#someone should probably take the art app away from me .
Text
instructions unclear, my microwave exploded :(((
[image descriptions: the first image is a screenshot of a Tumblr reblog by VikingPilot that says "I am not microwaveable please do not put me in the microwave please please please please", with no spaces between words so it's all one word. the second image is a simple doodle of Viking over a photo of an open microwave, so he's sitting in the microwave, with cartoonish lightning, explosions, and smoke coming from the microwave. end IDs]
#.lyr#mcyt#vikingpilot#someone should probably take the art app away from me .#dominion smp#almost forgot to maintag this one ! look at him (threat)
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s two in the morning, Cellbit is sulking his way back home from yet another attempt at the Federation’s air vent system, and it’s snowing. Christmas is in a week and a half; Richarlyson’s present, a pack of those fancy art markers that cost twice what Cellbit makes in an hour, is in Cellbit’s backpack nestled between a packet of stolen documents and a handgun. He’s tired, he wants to go home, and-
“Stop.”
It’s quiet, a hoarse whisper from a nearby dark shady alley. But Cellbit stops because it’s a kid.
Dying, he hears. Cucurucho, dyingdyingdyingdying-
Cautiously, he looks around. Empty streets, snow piling up in inches. Fucking cold, ice flying in the air. It’s gonna be a nasty storm, so he should really be getting home. But-
But it smells like blood.
So Cellbit hikes his bag up on his shoulder and steps out of the storm and into the alley, and he almost steps on a tiny dying hero.
“Oh,” he softly says, his body losing all its tension as he takes the kid’s broken appearance in. “Hello.”
The kid glares up at him. He’s… small. Just a bit bigger than Richarlyson, maybe. Standard Junior Hero uniform, mask over his eyes and nose, and a lot of blood.
“Stop staring,” the kid huffs. His teeth are chattering, and his lips are blue from the cold. “Just call the Feds for me.”
“Oh, sure,” Cellbit lies. He shuffles to the kid’s side to try and block out the worst of the wind, and then he crouches just a little, just enough to try and see what the damage is. But the kid scowls and curls in on himself, wincing as he moves.
Ribs, then. Cellbit recognizes that flinch, he’s seen it on enough of his victims.
Wounds are fresh, fresh enough for the kid to still be alive, anyway. Torso wounds suck. Easy to give, harder to make lethal.
Cellbit sighs and pulls out his phone. “Which one are you?”
He doesn’t have the Federation’s app downloaded (because fuck that), so he texts Forever instead; he’s the mayor, he’s gotta have some kind of Federation of Heroes Hotline going on. He’s probably awake. If not, well. Maybe the police can actually do something useful for once.
The kid’s chest puffs out despite the pain, and he says, “I’m Thorn, duh.”
He’s a child, that’s what he is. And he’s a fucking terrified one- Cellbit doesn’t need to use his ability to feel the fear coming off of him in waves. Because he’s a little boy who probably hasn’t seen his parents in years and he’s all alone in a storm dying and the villain who did this to him is still out there waiting.
Forever texts back: ‘🤬🤬🤬’
So he’s told the Feds, who probably have an evac team on the way. Because this is the leader of the most recent Junior Hero graduating class, and it’d be bad PR to let him die alone in a ditch somewhere in the city.
But, well… he’s a kid.
So Cellbit slides his phone back into his pocket and presses the back of his hand against Thorn’s cheek. Thorn hisses- fucking hisses- and tries to scoot away, but he can’t get too far with whatever injuries he’s got.
“Calma,” Cellbit says, letting his ability do its work, “I’m just checking for a fever. My son gets them all the time, I know exactly what I’m looking for.”
And, yeah, Thorn’s feverish. More importantly, though, he’s calm. His heartbeat evens out, and so does his breathing.
Thorn stares up at Cellbit in shock. “You’re a dad? No way!”
What the fuck?
“Of course I’m a dad!” Cellbit protests. “Look at me!”
He drops his hand from Thorn’s face and gestures towards his t-shirt, hand-painted by Richarlyson and reading, “World’s Okayest Dad”.
Thorn is not impressed. “You look homeless.”
And technically Cellbit is, but he isn’t just going to say that! Not to someone who’s technically his enemy.
So he huffs and crosses his arms and plays at being dramatic. (He’s got plenty of experience after dealing with Forever for so long.)
“Whatever,” he sulks. “You’re the one in a stinky alley. At least I have a shower.”
The kid’s lips twitch into a very hesitant little smile. Mission accomplished.
“Yeah, but you don’t use it,” he counters.
It’s a shame Richarlyson hates the Federation almost as much as he hates showers, because he and Thorn would probably get along pretty well. (Maybe Forever can set up a play date…)
Cellbit makes a show of smelling his jacket- clean, freshly washed. He makes a face, anyway, and Thorn giggles, and it’s kinda hard to hate the enemy when they’re made up of literal children.
“I never said I do my laundry,” Cellbit sniffs. “Do I look like I have that kind of money?”
“No!”
“Hey!”
The kid laughs, head thrown back. And then he grimaces and doubles over, eyes briefly squeezing shut.
Cellbit takes another look around the alley. Nobody’s there but the two of them, which makes sense. What kind of villain would stick around after supposedly killing the Federation’s Junior Hero poster child?
With a sigh, he settles down into the snow next to Thorn with his back against the chilly wall.
“You called them, right?” Thorn asks.
“I did better than that. I texted the mayor.”
Thorn snorts. “The mayor doesn’t have any friends, pendejo. He’s too busy being the mayor.”
Ouch.
“I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”
“Tell him that I’m gonna beat him up, too.”
“What?” Cellbit gasps exaggeratedly. “Why would you want to do that? He’s the mayor.”
“He’s stupid. He wants to put the Junior Hero Program into schools so all the babies can join it.”
Thorn frowns. He’s not scared, Cellbit made sure of that, but he’s worried. A bit different, and unfortunately out of Cellbit’s wheelhouse.
“My son wants to join,” he says.
Thorn shakes his head. “Well, get him out of it. It’s not worth it, man. Too much homework.”
“I thought you were gonna tell me it’s too dangerous.”
“Nah, it’s pretty chill.” (Now that’s a lie.) “I spend most of my time doing paperwork.”
Cellbit frowns sympathetically. “Yuck.”
Thorn sticks his tongue out. “Yuck.”
And it keeps snowing. The colder it gets, the closer Thorn gets until he’s pressed up against Cellbit’s arm shivering. Hesitantly, slowly, Cellbit puts that arm around Thorn’s shoulders and lets him try and huddle for warmth as best he can.
“You’re a weirdo,” Thorn mutters.
“I’ve met weirder.”
“Nuh-uh.”
Cellbit rolls his eyes. Yeah, he and Richarlyson would be very good friends.
It’s quiet, and then:
“Can you make me scared again?”
Cellbit’s heart stops. “What?”
Thorn turns his head to give him an unimpressed look. “I’m not stupid. I won’t tell anybody, but it’d be weird if they show up and I’m super chill, you know?”
“But-”
“I’m a hero, man. Nothing scares me.”
He’s also a child.
Cellbit gives him back his fear, anyway, this time with a simple worried head-pat. Thorn grumbles and leans away from the touch, but he got what he wanted.
Cucurucho, Cellbit hears, and, for once, he agrees.
Tires from down the road. That’ll be the Feds.
“You’re a brave kid,” he says. He squeezes Thorn’s shoulder with an assuring smile. “Stay safe, okay?”
He stands, and he helps Thorn up as well.
“Whatever,” Thorn grunts. He swallows the pain and stands up straight and tall as the Federation’s van pulls in front of the alley and slows to a halt.
Cellbit watches Thorn get helped into the van, and he watches the van drive away, and he stands there in that alleyway until he’s cold enough to become a Cellbicicle.
Then, and only then, he looks down at the single red rose poking out of the snow where the kid had been sitting.
(Rumor has it Thorn only grows roses in honor of his parents, reportedly both deceased. Cellbit doesn’t know if that’s true or not, but he leaves the rose be, anyway.)
256 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm sick and tired of social media, but I can't stop myself from logging in to Twitter and looking at toxic discourse. I still don't know what's wrong with me...
When it comes to curbing a social media obsession, will-power alone often isn't enough and there is nothing wrong with you for struggling with that.
As much as I love the internet and the social media found amongst it, most social media websites are intentionally designed to be addictive.
But IMO social media is still worth engaging with as long as the media that keeps you coming back is something that makes you happy.
But with Twitter in particular, I've noticed that, more and more, that is no longer the case. When it reaches that point, you should
0. Identify when it reaches the point of obsession. Of realizing that a hub of your free time has gone from something you enjoy engaging with to one that is involuntarily stealing your attention and making you unhappy.
When you do inevitably notice this, there are a number of steps you should take, either short term just to redirect your focus or long-term if you're committing to a full exitus like I have been.
1. Uninstall the app from your phone. No good can come from having the source of your problems in your pocket and 1 button press away. AT BARE MINIMUM remove the shortcut from your phone's background. It is more confrontational to delegate your primary Twitter access as something you can only see on your main computer.
At least there, any time you spend on Twitter is directly proportional to the time you could spend doing literally anything else. This should automatically make you care less about it since now competes with everything else you could possibly want/need to so and it can no longer permeate the between-spaces of your day as much.
If you're like me and the main reason you keep your Twitter account at all is to keep up with notifications...
1b. Stop ALL forms of non-essential posting INCLUDING RETWEETS of things you like. After being conditioned for years as the guy who retweets every Orin post he sees, this has been a slow unlearning process, but for every single post you make - even if it's just sharing someone else's art - is an open prompt that gives you more reason to return.
Copy a link and share it in a discord server if you MUST, but any time you open the website and see a number next to the notification tab, it is a validation that you have reason to keep coming back.
If limiting it to your main computer isn't enough...
2. Completely log out. You know what's even more confrontational than needing to already be in your recreational space? A big ass screen plastered with the website's branding that requires you to manually enter your information.
If your browser has your login info saved, remove that shit. Your mission is to make signing into your account as inconvenient as possible.
Doing this much has historically been enough to keep me away most of the time, but some people may need to go farther...
3. Change your password. Create a completely incomprehensible and string of characters and store it somewhere inconvenient, but in a place you will never lose it. This is where things can get a bit risky, but if you truly and utterly misplace your password, you got a recovery email and 2FA for a reason.
And if forcing yourself to jump through all of these hoops isn't enough, you may just have to face that it's time to
4. Delete your account. Look, if you are struggling to control yourself to a point where you can STILL notice your usage habits are out of your own control - even after jumping through every single one of these hoops - this is an extreme problem and the time for cautious self-created barriers is probably over.
If you truly and utterly can't fight off the urge to return to a platform that you can confidently recognize as being harmful to your well-being, then the only thing left to do is to give yourself nowhere to return to.
Take a day to archive any personal favorite posts or bookmarks, and wipe the slate clean. Twitter may very well continue existing but you can at least ensure your own space within it does not.
Just as your addiction can be fed by the press of a single button, so too can it be cut off. Social media is given value through the connections you make over it. Although you technically CAN just create a new account, it will never be the same as your old one and that gives way you less to return to.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Writing advice that I find actually helpful
(As if there’s not already enough writing advice on this goddamn app) but hopefully this advice will encourage rather than scare you!
Write what you enjoy! Seems simple right? But I see so many people online try to accomodate everyone’s preferences at once which is just not possible! Some people prefer 1st person and others prefer 3rd person. It’s impossible to please both! Writing what you enjoy is so important because writing is a low-retention activity. What do I mean by this? A lot of people get a new idea for a story and get super excited about it (as you should!) and immediately start thinking of cover art and titles, but a few chapters in it starts to become hard and eventually you give up on the project. If this is you, please do not feel bad! This is not to shame anyone! Writing is HARD and it is a marathon. Especially if you’re writing a novel. I (currently, never say never) do not have what it takes to write a chaptered work which is why I made the executive decision to stick to one shots. When the going gets tough (and it will get tough) the one thing that will keep you going is writing what you enjoy. Even if you think no one else will like it I promise there is someone out there who will. Don’t try to write what’s already popular and well-loved. Write what YOU love and I guarantee others will love it too. Writers (including me) often get discouraged when they see people comment preferences in books that don’t line up with what they are writing. And while it doesn’t hurt to have external input from a friend or beta reader, your enjoyment must come first. Not vibing with what they suggest? Then disregard it! (Obligatory disclaimer that this doesn’t apply to sensitivity readers and offensive portrayals.)
Look at the advice behind the advice. Wtf am I on about? A lot of writing ‘rules’ are not hard and fast and a very context dependent. Take show don’t tell for an example. What is the rationale behind showing rather than telling? What you want to achieve is immersion—people being enthralled by your story to the point where they forget they’re even reading. For most fiction writers that is the ideal result! If you tell too much it takes the reader out of the book and they become very aware that they are reading words on a page (and they will probably get bored). But on the flip side if you show too much the reader will be screaming at you to get to the bloody point and that’s not a great outcome either. This is where having a beta reader, even if it’s someone who has never written before, is really helpful. They can read your work and point out any scenes where they were taken out of the story. Alternatively, put the draft away for a few weeks and come back to it with fresh eyes and see if you can spot any issues. That’s just one example, but always keep in mind the advice behind the advice. You want to keep your reader immersed in the story, turning pages, and getting invested in your characters. There are tools to help you get there, but every story is different so there is no magic formula. Don’t get bogged down by the minutia, but focus on the ‘why’ behind the advice.
Read your dialogue aloud. I cannot emphasis this enough. Yes you will cringe at first. Yes you will think it sounds stupid. But the best way to practise writing realistic dialogue is to put it into practice and see if it actually sounds plausible. Even better if you can act it out. Practice all of those action tags so you notice when someone raises their eyebrow five times in one page. And on action tags: I’ve noticed a trend. We went from being told in school to only use strong, creative dialogue tags (he shrieked, she bellowed), to being told to mostly use said, to being told to ditch dialogue tags in favour of action tags. So we end up with paragraphs like this:
~
“It was Fred’s idea.” Amy crossed her arms.
“I don’t care. The answer is still no.” John frowned in a way that told Amy this was final.
“Whatever.” Amy rolled her eyes.
“Teenagers.” John rubbed his brow.
~
Don’t worry, I’m guilty of this too. But the problem is, the more action tags you use the less the reader pays attention to them. My advice is to use them when you would be likely to notice someone’s body language in real life. I don’t pay attention to every time someone shifts their weight or rubs their nose (idk maybe you do? Can’t speak for everyone I suppose). Use action tags when you want to convey emotion or characterisation that is important or possibly unexpected to the reader. Perhaps one character said something that triggered a strong emotion in a non-POV character, but we don’t know why yet. The same goes for dialogue tags, use them when you need the reader to pay attention to them. Ditch them or use ‘x said’ when you want to move on quickly. Again, this is a judgment call not a hard and fast rule and it will improve with practice.
4. Write proactive characters. Proactive characters have something they want and something they fear. Proactive characters take active steps to pursue what they want or avoid (or face) what they fear. They can and should react to their circumstances, but they also have to make decisions and do things of their own volition. Even better is when the want and the fear come into direct conflict. That is where most of the character growth occurs. Take (imo) one of the best written characters for TV ever, Tommy Shelby from Peaky Blinders. His want is to expand his business empire and take out his enemies, his fear is his loved ones getting caught in the crossfire. These things come into direct conflict all the time and Tommy has to make proactive decisions on how to proceed. What are the risks? What contingencies and backup plans does he have? When does his bide his time and when does he strike? Who does he ally himself with? These are all proactive decisions he makes that are driven by his want and his fear. That’s what makes him such a compelling and beloved character, even when he does terrible violent things. Characters fall flat when their wants and fears aren’t clear, or their actions aren’t driven by them. And this absolutely applies to lower stakes plots as well. Maybe the want is a sense of community and the fear is a fear of rejection. If you nail this then you’ll be like 90% of the way to creating a beloved, compelling character.
If you made it this far congratulations wow that got long hey, and if you found literally anything about this helpful please tell me I crave the attention lol 🫶
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello! I found you through one of your art tutorials and absolutely loved it, it's really inspired me to try it. I was just wondering, not being familiar with digital art, what set up/ app/ tools do you use (or recommend)? do I need a fancy tablet? thank you :)
I'm so glad to hear it! I hope wherever your drawing journey takes you, that you will keep having fun along the way :)
I am always glad to show my setup!
Let's start with the hardware!
Nowadays, I use a Wacom Cintiq 16, which I purchased this year for around $800 CAD.
This device very much on the fancy side but as someone who has done digital art for 20+ years, it has helped me complete my works in a much shorter amount of time. The Cintiq surface allows me to draw directly on the screen.
Before that, I used a tablet - the Wacom Intuos v4 S, which I received as a gift from my Dad. It held up for 10+ years and was still working excellently when I gave it away for my Mom to use. :) In 2009 I believe it was priced around $250 CAD.
The surface was a lot more matte when I purchased it and has since gotten shinier from all the abrasion and usage and skin contact. I remember it had a protective transparent sheet which I tore off on the first day of use. LOL
My desktop PC is i7 processor @ 3.20 GHz with Windows 10 64bit, 16gb, with a NVIDIA GeForce GTX 1060 video card. Monitor is 24". Notably I use my PC for other activities such as gaming.
Now let's talk about drawing programs!
My software of choice is PaintToolSai v2! It is very lightweight and has a smaller toolset compared to Photoshop or Clip Studio.
I favor it because I feel that it has a better response to pen input, which helps create higher quality lines. It is very stable and performs very well - I don't think I've ever had any crashes while using v2, which is still in development. The smaller price point helps. The current price is 5500JPY, which should be around $50 CAD these days? The price was lower when I purchased it years and years back, and I was able to upgrade to v2 without any additional cost.
As for what I recommend for a beginner? I admit, it's a little hard for me to say - the landscape of digital painting has changed so much over the past ten years that so many new tools and software have come out while I was still using Sai and my Intuos!
But if you start shopping around, there are some things that may factor into your decision. Please note that I will be speaking as someone who uses mainly desktop systems and tablets for digital art.
Price: The price of a good-quality drawing tablet can range from the $100s to the $1000s. If you are a beginner, you may not experience the benefits of a professional-standard tablet right away, so it's ok to start small! For software, there are quite a few free options to get you started, such as Medibang or Krita. If you have an iPad, Procreate is available on the store for $9.99, though you may need to invest in a stylus.
System Specs: If you have a laptop or a PC, be sure to double check your specs to make sure it can support the hardware and software of your choice! The requirements are less stringent than gaming, so at least i3 with 8gb RAM will work! You will also need to make sure you have enough storage space to hold large files. I've read that the sweet spot for storage is 128GB. If you are a beginner, you probably won't hit the limit in a short amount of time - just be aware that file sizes for digital art can reach 100s of MB depending on size and complexity.
Pressure Sensitivity: This is a measure of how sensitive your tablet is to pressure changes so that you can vary between solid/translucent and thin/thick lines as you are drawing. The recommendation for newcomers is 1,024 levels. Any less, and the experience may be lacking and the results less than satisfying.
Display Size: Tablet size can vary! Wacom Tablets in particular come in Small, Medium and Large. Make sure it can fit on your working space! I've had no problems creating art work using the smallest size, though it has caused a bit of wrist strain.
A monitor/display screen of at least HD quality with a resolution of at least 300dp is recommended! Screen size will also affect your experience. So, similar with gaming, consider what might be most comfortable for you!
Learning Curve: If you are drawing on a screenless tablet for the first time, then it may take some time to get used to the feeling of drawing the tablet surface while keeping your eyes on the monitor. Don't be discouraged if you're not getting the same results as you would using pen and paper! It will definitely feel different, but with time and practice you will gradually get accustomed to it.
Each software comes with its own toolset - some larger than others! For complex programs like Clip Studio and Photoshop, the number of features and the level of customization available can be overwhelming! That said, most software programs for digital art come with a standard set of basic tools, such as Brush, Select, Straight Line, Erase, Zoom, Copy + Paste, Undo etc. So it is perfectly feasible to get started using a complex program, familiarize yourself with the basics, and try some of the more advanced features once you get confident.
(Meanwhile, I am terrified of Clip Studio's seemingly endless features whenever I open it and usually find myself running back to Sai for safety lolol)
Public Opinion: Take caution when watching Youtube reviews, as artists (especially popular ones) are known to accept company sponsorships. Ask around if you can, take a look at the best, worst, and average customer reviews, and check out a public discussion like Reddit where opinions may differ! Take note of the good and bad experiences. And, where invited, ask artists like or not-like me. :)
I should note this far that I'm not sponsored by anyone or anything. ;;;; I swear on my Mom I'm not a Wacom plant. (That said I will gladly continue to sing my praises of PaintToolSai for free. It is an excellent program and please consider supporting the smaller devs!)
That's it! ...I think? I'm almost certain that there are at least one or two things that I've neglected to mention, but so far, those are the points I can think of, so I hope you find it useful. :)
Each digital art journey is different, and so your mileage may vary with the factors above! I do hope that as you get started with creating stuff digitally, that you have a fun and enjoyable experience.
I also invite other people to share their opinions, agreements, and disagreements to the points above! Especially if there is anything important that I may have missed. I hope this is helpful and thank you again everyone for your positive comments on my tutorials. :')
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
So another fun fact about my Byakuya/Sakura fankid Kenji, he has a love interest named Zuri. Drawn by
Also wrote a short thing about Kenji bringing her home to meet his parents. Wanted to try and flesh her out a bit.
“He’s bringing a girl with him?”
Sakura nodded in confirmation as she brewed herself and Byakuya a cup of piping hot coffee. His black as he always took it and herself with a hefty scoop of protein powder she stirred in.
“Yes, remember Kenji mentioned he met someone?” Sakura reminded as she brought over his mug and handed it to him. Blowing on hers briefly before taking a small sip of that caffeinated goodness. “I believe her name was Zuri?” she added after swallowing a mouthful.
“I know that,” Byakuya answered flatly. “Did…he mentioned how they met?” he questioned.
Sakura tapped her chin in thought. “I recall he mentioned they met at a library.” to which Byakuya immediately scoffed.
“Is that what he told you?”
“Yes, why?”
“They met on a dating app.”
“And how would you know that?” Sakura raised an eyebrow as Byakuya tensed and looked away.
“I may have… hired someone to look into her,” he confessed.
“Make no mistake, I am upset our son was dishonest. But considering your first reaction to him entering a relationship was that of all things I can understand Kenji’s secrecy.” her eyes narrowed at her husband.
“You can’t fault me for that.” his grip tighten on his cup of coffee. “And he has the Togami name. I wouldn’t put it pass anyone to try and take advantage of that for their agenda.
Try as she might, not even Sakura had enough willpower to hold back a sigh before needing a second sip of her protein coffee.
“Byakuya, I understand you are apprehensive about Zuri...” her frown deepen. “But Kenji is flying from med school back to Japan to stay with us for a while and is bringing someone very near and dear to him with him, I want to enjoy our son’s company after not having him in the estate for so long. I would suggest you do the same.”
It was both a warning and a suggestion. While Sakura was proud of her son for following his dreams and working towards pursuing a career in the medical field, she greatly miss his presence ever since she and Byakuya became empty nesters. She refused to let Byakuya’s skepticism sour his temporary return.
“Fine…” he muttered.
Sakura wasn’t fully convinced.
….
With the golden gates to the estate in sight, Kenji slipped a bookmark between the pages of Gerald’s Game by Stephan King and tucked the novel into his bag.
“We’re here,” he announced as the gates opened and immediately turned to his girlfriend. “Zuri, I am aware you are probably sick of hearing this. But I should warn you-“
“Darling, I’m not at all intimidated by your parents.” she laughed lightly.
“It’s not my mother I’m concerned about.” he frowned. “It’s my father…”
“Kenji, if you think your father scares me you’ll be a foolish, foolish man.” her lips curled into a big smile. “I wouldn’t be wearing heels this high if I was fearful of him. Best to look him in the eyes than be looked down on, no?”
Zuri was confident, she always was. Kenji wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or not right now. He liked that about her but combined with her ruthless ambition, even he wasn’t entirely sure how her and his father’s personalities would clash.
The limousine pulled up to his parents estate. Admittedly Kenji would have been content with a taxi, but his father insisted he send them the company limo to drive them there.
“We’re here, sir.” the chauffeur announced before stepping out of the vehicle to open the door for them.
One of the many maids under his father’s employment immediately took their luggage and went on ahead with Kenji and Zuri following behind. At the entrance stood both of his parents, eagerly awaiting his temporary return.
“You’re finally here.” his mother wasted no time walking up to him and giving him a big hug. “And you must be Zuri,” she said once she let go of Kenji and turned her attention to her. “Kenji told us so much about you.”
“Good things I hope.” Zuri laughed before digging into her purse and retrieved a bottle of wine. “I come bearing gifts. I hope this will suffice. I was told you favoured red.”
“You shouldn’t have.” she took the bottle. “But thank you.”
Kenji braced himself as his father stepped forward, his sky blues meeting with Zuri’s deep browns.
“And you must be Kenji’s father, a pleasure to meet you,” Zuri said, extending her hand to shake. “I’ve heard so much.”
“Likewise,” his eyes cast their usual judgemental gaze onto her, yet Zuri had no problem looking him straight in them. Not even flinching as he shook her hand, giving it one of his signature firm business grip. “I’ll show you inside.” he went on ahead with Zuri following.
Kenji let out a sigh and glanced at his mother.
“I told you not to say she was a model.”
“It slipped out! And I just said she done some modelling before…” his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. “I might not have a girlfriend by the end of this, will I?”
“We’re see.” she smiled reassuringly and ruffled his hair.
….
“My, what a lovely manor.” Zuri complimented, her louis vuitton heels clacking against the floor as she walked down the hall of Byakuya’s estate. “The fenestration and use of the windows is very elegant. And the symmetry and curvilinear fluidity? I’m impressed.”
Fenestration? Curvilinear? Who was she trying to impress? It took more than a few sizeable words to leave an impression on Byakuya. His mouth remained in a straight line, frown deepening.
“What are you an architect?” that came out ruder than he meant, earning him the painful blunt blow of Sakura’s elbow to his side. “Oof!” he rubbed his side, looking at Sakura who shot him a glare that clearly said ‘be nice for once.’
Luckily Zuri didn’t notice or the very least pretended not to. She just smile and laughed politely.
“Oh no, but my mother is. I suppose I just picked up a few things over the years.” Zuri explained.
“What does your father do?” Sakura inquired.
“He works in oil maintenance. The kind that provides divers and engineers to repair rigs.” Zuri’s smile drop as she rolled her eyes and dug through her designer purse. “Speaking of which…” she pulled out a notebook and pen. “Forgive me, but my father is a bit of a fan of yours. Saw one of your matches when he was travelling abroad and was hooked. He’s been nagging at me to get him an autograph.”
“It’s fine. If it’s an autograph your father wants it’s an autograph he’ll get.” Sakura took the paper and pen. “What’s his name?”
“Nathaniel,” Zuri answered as Sakura scribbled out an autograph and handed the notebook and pen back to her. “Thank you, he’ll be thrilled to bits.”
They ascended up the staircase and made their way down the hallway.
“The staff brought your bags to your room. Why don’t you two unpack and meet us in the lounge?“ Sakura suggested.
“Will do, thanks, mom,” Kenji said, entering the room with Zuri, leaving just Byakuya and Sakura.
“Did you say room as in singular?” Byakuya felt his eye twitch as they ventured further down the hall.
“He’s an adult, Byakuya.” Sakura reminded. “Fretting over it served no purpose. We taught him to be prepared and responsible.” she dismissed.
She was right, but that didn’t mean Byakuya had to be pleased about it. He simply crossed his arms and huffed as they wandered to the lounge where they got situated on a couch. The staff had prepared drinks and a charcuterie board for them to graze at while he and Sakura waited for Kenji and Zuri.
Fortunately, they didn’t take long and joined them shortly.
“So…did you have a safe flight?” Byakuya began, while he was apprehensive about regarding his son’s love life, he genuinely was pleased Kenji was back home. He and Sakura kept themselves busy with work and other activities, but like all empty nesters Kenji not only leaving home but the country made for a more difficult adjustment than he would like to admit.
“We did, got held up at customs but aside from that everything was fine,” Kenji responded, to which Byakuya just scoffed.
“I told you, you should have just taken the private jet. Could have avoided that altogether.” fighting off the urge to add ‘and be home faster’.
“It’s fine, Dad. It’s honestly it’s a hassle getting that sorted out. Besides I wanted to surprise you two when I showed you when I mentioned the ticket home when we video chatted.” he smiled, helping himself to a few grapes.
“I’m glad you’re, regardless of our transportation. Even with all the video chats, phone calls and text messages. It’s just not the same without you here.” Sakura sighed sadly.
“Sorry, but is that a chess table?” Zuri inquired, eyes locked on the set on the other side of the room.
“It is,” Byakuya answered bluntly.
“Fancy a game?” Zuri asked, not even awaiting a response as she stood up. “I should warn you I’m very good.”
That huge confident grin plastered on her face was the most single irritating thing to Byakuya right now. But for the sake of his wife and son, he would comply with Zuri’s demands.
“Fine, I’ll humour you,” he responded flatly, face in his all too common unimpressed scowl.
“White or black?” Zuri asked. “Do you have a preference for chess colour?”
“I don’t care. You pick.” he dismissed the trivial thought of colour preference with a wave of his hand.
“Fine by me, I’m rather partial to white.” she sat herself down and began setting up the pieces.
“So, what exactly do you do?” oh how he loathed small talk, but according to Sakura it was a requirement.
“I’ve done some modelling, but I attend classes. All online, I travel a lot,” she explained, moving her pawn forward. “Although I strive to be the brains behind the industry.”
“Do you now.” his eyes narrowed as he moved his piece.
“Your poker face is atrocious,” Zuri remarked.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s abundantly clear you aren’t fond of my relationship with Kenji,” she commented, moving her white knight across the black-and-white board. “Nor the fact you don’t intimate me. I can tell it aggravates you immensely.” she grinned. “I appreciate the effort though.”
Byakuya said nothing for a moment, simply taking his turn and staring her down. Zuri wasn’t the first overly self-assured person he came across in his lifetime. He faced cocky businessmen twice his age as a high schooler and left them a blubbering mess.
“I won’t deny that I’m not aware of the privilege that comes with being involved with Kenji.” Zuri began. “The Togami name is the embodiment of power-“
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he warned.
“It wasn’t, merely a statement of fact.” Zuri countered, moving her bishop. “I don’t fault you at all for any doubts about my intentions with Kenji.”
“And what exactly are your intentions?” it was an old and cliche question, but it was only one worth asking at the moment.
“I assure you they are entirely pure. Kenji isn’t some pawn in my path to success. I’m perfectly capable of that on my own.” Zuri explained as Byakuya took one of her pawns. “I happen to be very fond of him, you and your wife raised a fine young man.” Try as he might, Byakuya could not hold back the prideful feeling in his chest at that statement. “Kenji’s a good man, comes off as stoic but cares a lot, far more than the men and women I’ve been involved with.”
“I think he gets it from his mother.”
Zuri moved her chess piece before leaning back in her seat, head high with a victorious smile on her face.
“Checkmate.”
Byakuya blinked, staring at the board in disbelief. Impossible, they just started playing!
“I warned you, didn’t I?” she taunted. “I’m very good.”
….
Try as he might, Kenji couldn’t help but glance back at his father and girlfriend every few seconds while trying to hold a conversation about college with his mother. The chess table was far enough so he couldn’t hear anything.
He tensed watching the two stand up and… shake hands? Wasn’t what he expecting, but logically speaking it seemed to be the best outcome. He tried not to stare as they returned over.
“I do have some connections in the fashion industry.” his father explained. “I would be more than happy to provide a reference when needed.”
“Why thank you.” Zuri smiled and glanced at Kenji. “Did you show them the pictures from our trip to see my parents?”
“No, I think the photos are still in my bag.”
“I’ll go get them. You absolutely have to see my mother’s latest projects.” with that being said Zuri gave Kenji a quick kiss on his cheek before turning on her heels and going off to go fetch them.
“Hm… I like her,” he commented, earning a perturbed look from both Kenji and his mother. “What? I can be nice.“
#Sakura Ogami#sakura oogami#Byakuya Togami#danganronpa#Sakuya#Kenji#Zuri#my fics#rarepair#rare pair#rare pairs#fankids#fan kids
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
I took a break from dating for a while. Honestly, I intended the break to be indefinite. I haven’t had very great experiences in my love life, a part of me was ready to just give up and put it on the back burner. But I decided to give it one last go. On my own terms. This is what I can up with.
Give it one more chance - on your terms and conditions
Try the dating apps one more time. Focus on the people you have really good conversations with. Don’t be afraid to be weird or “too much”. These people are just practice and play. Even if it takes a long time or never works out. Use it to your advantage.
Fulfill your need for connection and intimacy 🫂
Get what you need out of it - connection. Authenticity. Conversation. Learn about yourself. Learn about other people. Build yourself up. Try things out.
Be honest
Be upfront with them. Let them know that you’re not interested in meeting right away. You want to talk to them first. Tell them that you need a reason to meet in person, you won’t meet just anyone.
🪞 Make them put in some effort - if it doesn’t click then it doesn’t click and you can both move on
Make them work for it a little, see who you vibe with the most. Make them wait. So that when it finally happens - you could end up with a good friend if not a lover.
If it still doesn’t work out then you don’t need to force it.
A person I vibe with will also need that internal connection.
Being intentional ✨ 🌟
This way you are meeting people and being intentional about it. Still left up to fate to a certain extent but following your intuition and authenticity.
What I’ve learned
I’ve learned that I’m not interested in meeting unless we can have some good conversation first. I’m looking for someone I vibe with. If they say they do better in person, yeah that’s probably true, but I don’t have a lot of free time to meet up so it won’t work. Again - it’s not about perfection, it’s about effort.
A lover boy who loves loving and a lover girl who loves being loved ♥️����💕
A guy head over heels for you wouldn’t think twice about making you pay or plan. They’ll just be happy for you to be there and do whatever they can to make it so that you want to stay around. If they don’t feel like that then you’re not the one for them or they don’t have enough fire for you.
Be slow and intentional
I need to move very slowly. If they are not okay with that then we wouldn’t be compatible anyways.
I’m not looking to fool around. I’m looking for someone stable and fun.
Planning Dates
*I do not have a lot of free time or energy that I am willing to give away. It should be worth it. I should be excited or it’s not worth it.
And when you do decide you want to meet them - don’t just meet for coffee. Make it an activity. Something you can get something out of. Like flower picking or apple picking, seeing the ice caves, try a new restaurant, go see a movie you have a common interest in, go to build a bear, take a painting class, a cooking class, a city event, an art gallery, Toads, Lagoon, fair or festival, arcade, have them show you a good time. If they don’t have the time or money or interest to make that happen. Then they can’t afford you.
It’s not about money or being perfect - it’s about effort. One man’s “sure” is another man’s “yes please”.
💡
You can go through a hundred guys and it’ll be worth it if you find just one that you can have a good talk with. No rush, no pressure, no expectations,just vibing. Friends.
My Intentions - for my own clarity and the universe 🌌
“Look, I’m gonna be straightforward with you. I’m not looking for a long term relationship, I’m not looking for a relationship. I move slowly and if you’re not up for that then we’re probably not compatible anyways. I don’t care how many other girls or people you see because I’m not looking to waste your time or mine. If we were to decide to be exclusive that would change things but I’m not looking to lock you down. I’m looking for someone I vibe with. Even if we just end up as friends, or end on good terms that would be ideal. But my time is very limited, so if I’m serious, I’ll decide to meet you. It better be worth it.”
Leonie’s List of Stuff to Try
- [ ] Daily goal. Use all of your likes on Hinge each day to get the widest range possible
- [ ] Be intentional and selective. Only like the profiles that genuinely vibe with you
- [ ] You should be excited. If they don’t get you excited, they don’t have what you need
- [ ] Revamp your profile to reflect your new era and intentions: don’t have much free time, looking for someone I vibe with, slow burn
- [ ] Deep conversations. Only meet with a guy that you have had deep and honest conversations with, and what I mean is - if it doesn’t excite you then you don’t know them well enough. Goal: move one conversation to snap or text.
- [ ] Do a personal brand dating profile photo shoot: wear your favorite outfits, take photos at your favorite places, with your favorite things, your hobbies, your favorite people, food, be silly, be yourself. Show yourself and your intentions. You’re not looking to build a harem, you’re looking for someone who is intrigued by you, someone who will value you as a person, not just a body.”
“You can plan it all but let me know what it is beforehand so I don’t get kidnapped and so I can dress appropriately. Or I can pick what I want to do and you can set it all up. You can’t afford to show a girl a good time? You can’t afford a girlfriend. You see, I’m looking for someone at my level or above. Because I don’t need you to make me happy. I make myself happy already. I take care of myself. I have everything I need. I want you to make me happier. “ ~anything less is not worth my time and energy
⏰ Time budget : once every other weekend or whenever I feel like
I’m a time-budgeter. You want my time? A total stranger. Why should I? Make it worth it. If you don’t care then I don’t care. Simple as that.
0 notes
Text
Danielle Verboski Realtor
There is now real estate for sale in Old Lyme, Connecticut, in the best spot. Old Lyme is in the county of New London. Most likely, there is an Old Lyme in each of the 50 states. The lake is only a short walk away from here. This is the time of year when a lot of people choose to stay in one of the many cabins that are close to the beach. During the summer, cottages can be rented by the week or by the month. Give them what they want if they ask for it realtors in old lyme ct Because Lyme Street is the main business street in the hamlet, the area around it was chosen to be part of the town's historic district. A lot of people are retired ship captains whose ships used to explore the water near them. These brand-new homes are different from all the others in the area. The city was chosen to host the event in large part because it has a lively arts scene and a well-known museum. The name probably comes from Lyme Regis, a famous English beach resort. The town is in England, in Lyme Regis.
The Lyme Art Association and the company offices of Callaway Cars are both in Old Lyme, Connecticut. The Florence Griswold Museum is also there. One of the many businesses and groups that call Old Lyme, Connecticut home is the Florence Griswold Museum. Another is the Lyme Art Association. The house that Florence Griswold used to live in in Old Lyme, Connecticut is now owned by several different companies. They could live in the same town. Old Lyme is where Sennheiser's US headquarters are based right now. Lyme, Connecticut, also known as "Old Lyme," is where the first cases of Lyme disease were found. People who lived in Old Lyme were the first to notice how quickly the sickness spread.
In Old Lyme, there are both business and residential areas. Places and areas like South Lyme, Laysville, Black Hall, and Soundview are among those that are included. You could take one of these day trips from the area. You have a lot of good options. In 2010, there were 7,603 people living in the town as a whole. In 2010, quantitative counts were done.
In the Connecticut town of Old Lyme, there are a number of new homes for sale.
You might only need to email the IDX Broker API one more time and update the IMPress app for IDX Broker before you try again. Your past attempts had no effect at all.
Could you tell me what's wrong with my home state of Connecticut, which is known as the "Constitution State"? If you need help, please tell Daniel what's going on. You need to talk to him right away. Please call or email us as soon as possible if you want to buy or sell a house that we have listed. People have strong opinions about how much homes are worth right now.
Find a group of top-notch Old Lyme, CT real estate agents.
Do you need a real estate person in or near Old Lyme, Connecticut, that you can trust? If this sounds like you, it might help to find people who feel the same way. Danielle Verboski is the person to talk to about everything you need to know about the Connecticut home market. A Connecticut real estate agent named Danielle Verboski knows a lot about the market and is dedicated to teaching her clients about it and the home-buying process. It doesn't matter what the housing market is like; Danielle is determined to find her clients the right homes. It's impressive that outsiders have confirmed what she has done. There are a lot of great things about Old Lyme, Connecticut, that real estate agent Danielle Verboski knows a lot about. The best person to talk to about making the most of the tools is Danielle. She knows a lot about the field because she has worked in it for a long time and in many different jobs. In addition, she knows all of the services in the area very well. Should you decide to buy or sell a home, you need someone like Danielle on your side. This is a good sign because she seems reliable and aware about her job. She has these qualities that make her someone who could be a good friend soon. This knowledge can help you whether you're buying a home for the first time or planning to sell the one you already own. You should keep going even if you feel like there's no way out.
Old Lyme only has one real estate agent, and her name is Danielle Verboski. Quite simply, this is because Old Lyme is made up of several smaller towns. Her clients can now be sure that she will give them the best service possible during the whole process of buying or selling a house. Since then, she has become well-known in the business as an expert who can help both buyers and owners of homes. She can help her clients because she knows what's new in the field. No matter what kind of home features you want, Danielle will try her best to find you the right one. She might be a good tour guide because of her background. You can ask her for anything. Danielle will handle the specifics, so you don't need to. To help you make a smart choice, she will look into the selling price and the property's suitability for your needs. She will also make sure you have everything you need to keep the house clean.
If you need a real estate agent in Old Lyme, Connecticut, Danielle Verboski is the only name you need to know. There are many things that Danielle Verboski brings to her job. Danielle always does her best on a project. She will do everything she can to help you as a committed real estate agent. Don't buy or sell a house right away; give this some thought first. Danielle Verboski can help you with any real estate questions you have in the Old Lyme, Connecticut area.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Book Review #44 of 2023--
The Combat Codes by Alexander Darwin. Rating: 1.75 stars.
Read from April 12th to 16th.
Before I get into the review, a quick thank you to both NetGalley and the publishers over at Orbit for giving me access to this ARC in exchange for an honest review. The Combat Codes is a Sci-Fi Martial Arts novel about Murray, an ex-Grievar Knight who used to fight for his country in combat meant to erase war. Two Knights would fight in The Circle in order to decide which side would win the land dispute, the negotiations, or whatever the government was trying to gain. The ex-fighter and current Scout, Murray, has always stuck to The Codes, but finds that the higher ups have only strayed further and further away from the old ways. The Combat Codes seems to be a book that was originally a self-published novel that has since been picked up by a publisher. The new version of The Combat Codes comes out on June 12th and is available for pre-order now.
I struggled with the decision to keep reading or to DNF this one pretty early on. As in, two chapters in I knew this wasn’t going to be a book for me. But I’ve only ever DNF’d one ARC so I stuck with it. I’m surprised I managed to read it as quickly as I did simply because I was on vacation. So any time we were on the subway or waiting for a game to start I would open the app and get to reading. Not because I was invested or interested in where the story was going. I just wanted to get it read so I could move on to something I would actually enjoy. So, part of this rating is going to be on me for not DNF’ing the book when I probably should have.
There was a lot I didn’t enjoy so I’m going to make a list here instead of a giant paragraph:
1.) The world building-- I have never read a book where the world building is so thin. I found it so hard to picture the settings or understand how the science fiction aspects worked. I can tell that the author can picture it all in his head really well, but my god is it not presented for the reader at all.
2.) The characters-- Everyone here was so flat--even our two main characters Murray and Cego. I didn’t connect with any of them emotionally because it’s hard to connect with characters that feel like cardboard cut outs.
3.) The outcomes-- While reading, I seemed to always know the direction any fight or plot point was going to take and, while I don’t always consider it a bad thing, it was a pretty well-worn path this story trod. The little guy always won or if he was going to lose it was in order to make some strategic move in order to get the outcome he wanted. It was unrealistic and not in a way where I could suspend my disbelief.
I liked the premise of this story so much and put in different hands it could have been excellent. I never want to be too harsh on an author and I never want to seem like I have nothing good to say for someone’s hard work. It’s just hard when you slog your way through a pretty long book to come out feeling like you had a bad time. Do I think there’s an audience for this book? Of course. There is always an audience for a book. I think this one would be good for readers who love action, fight sequences, and conspiracies. I could see this series going into some really great places as well. I think this is just not for me.
#the combat codes#Alexander darwin#netgalley#orbit#books read in 2023#2023 reading challenge#goodreads challenge#goodreads#booklr#bookblr#bookstagram#bookish#books#martial arts#science fiction#sci-fi
0 notes
Text
02/05/2023
Time passes.
Yesterday i had one of the best saturdays i can remember for a long time. I went out to meet my crazy brit friend downtown. we met up at noon. we first went to get a lobster roll cause i’ve been craving one. then we walked over to “the club”, a social club that he’s a part of. it’s funny he used to talk about it when we worked together and i always wondered what the deal was about it. it’s super cool. if i was even close to being downtown i’d want to join as it was quite nice. very posh and i guess fancy lol.
we hang up our coats then proceed upstairs. first he showed me the library, a great big room full of plush leather couches with foot rests, a large fireplace with a couch, some desks. the walls are floor to ceiling books. the east windows face out where you can see the art institute, the bean, the lake. there were a few people in there quietly reading.
so then we go to like “living room” type place that literally has 4 huge flat screen tvs with couches and tables. a little further down there are like dining tables and chairs and a bar. we take a seat near the windows. there’s a menu and we have a few drinks and chat and laugh the day away. he’s super good at guessing people’s ages and i am not lol. there is no payment here, you just write down your membership number and you get charged later. super posh lol. my drink was some sort of basically chocolate/espresso martini. crazy brit gets a drink called the “thirst trap” lol that’s made with gin. Gin and i have a bad past so that’s a no for me lol.
we get feeling a little bit chilly and unfortunately the fireplace in the area we are in isn’t working. so, he asked the staff if they could possibly light the one in the library. we bring our drinks there and sit in front of a grand fireplace. the library is thankfully empty. he goes through the “matches” i have on my dating app and we message a few. when i say “we” i guess it was he messaging as me. it was fun and we had a hilarious time there. until a curmudgeon of a lady came it at some point and we didn’t even notice cause our backs are to the rest of the room. we were there first laughing our faces off and talking about who would die first in the apocalypse when we hear a “HEY! There are plenty of other places to drink your cocktails” from way across the room. Ew, what a biatch am i right? She apparently was thinking we should have known she had walked in. ugh her rudeness bothers me even today. what about a “hey! i dunno if you saw me come in but can you please keep it down?”
Anyways after that we leave and then walk down aways. he goes, have you ever been at the bar at the palmer house? Uh no? ok then let’s go. we sit at the bar there and i’m just drinking water at this point and he has a couple more drinks. but then i get hungry so i get a bbq chicken flatbread pizza. we observe and talk about and talk to the people all around us and have a great time.
he is like my designated hype person. every time i talk or hang out with him i feel like i can do anything. i don’t feel quite as broken. we go through old pictures and he tells me “i always thought you were a costume person” LOL. the whole day i didn’t pay for a dime except my parking. well i know he makes a ton more than i do, lol, i so i guess it’s fine. like probably double, so he can afford it lol.
but it was a super fun day of talking and laughing and day drinking and i would love to have that again lol. i would love to meet and actually date someone i could have just as much fun with and laugh with.
for example one of the people i’m texting.... i sent him a picture of the roaring fire and said I’m at hogwarts casino. and he said, oh i’ve never been there, where is that? and we answered Platform 9 and 3/4s. and he said In IL? and we responded Kings Crossing. i felt quasi mean, but we were joking this whole time and this guy has no idea. which means he has possibly never watched harry potter? or just not the brightest lightbulb in the tool shed? i don’t know. i guess i could just say i don’t know if i’d be laughing my face off with him talking about life and the ridiculous.
partner that with the fact that he doesn’t really engage in any conversation or answer or ask any questions besides “when can we meet?” like why do you even want to meet me, dude, you have no idea if we have anything in common or would get along whatsoever. i’ve offered to chat on the phone a couple times and he never does. i mentioned that today and he called while i was driving, but i swear to you the phone rang just like 3 times. probably not even long enough to go to voice mail.
i dunno, i guess i should just pay attention to those red flags and disengage from that guy.
anyways by the time i head back to my car at the parking garage it’s almost 8 pm. lol. got home by 830 and in bed by 9 or so like my usual oldy moldy self. day drinking is fun! LOL. for some reason i thought drinking was only late at night (which would totally disrupt my sleep schedule lol). so it was great to remember that this is an option!
oh yes, work is a tire fire. the tire fire that continues on. i really need to go over my resume and find something else.
last week one evening i spoke on the phone with leo for an hour talking about relationships and trying to cheer her up. another night i spoke to cancer and asked her what traits she thought were good for me to search for in another person. so i guess it’s nice to be keeping in touch with friends and be there for each other
0 notes
Text
I... should go back on Instagram.
I haven't been on there since January of last year actually. My absence from there wasn't entirely because of J.G., but it was at a point where I was getting short-tempered with people breaking promises and arrangements with me, so I kind of rage-quit I.G. after something happened and stopped talking to people for all of 2022 with the except of two people IRL.
Beyond them, I haven't really been talking to anybody on a conversational/platonic level on a daily basis.
And I think it's starting to show - if just a little bit.
And I admit, I don't want to go back on I.G. because I'm resentful, mistrustful and bitter now and I'm still thinking about how people have "wronged" me even on very minute levels. And I can further admit that my attitude has been, "I don't want to talk to these other people until I can talk to J.G. again - because they're the only person I've really wanted to talk to this whole entire time."
That's really shitty of me to do considering some of those "other" people theoretically had a better relationship than what I had with J.G., if in a geographic proximity than a temporal proximity (I've known J.G. longer than some of those people but I live closer to those people than to J.G.).
(Emphasis on "had a relationship" because... I essentially ghosted a whole collective of people: once again proving that I've stooped to J.G. master fuckwad level.)
So yeah. I should go back and apologize, even if at the same time I don't really want to talk to some people, but I know that I should try to normally talk to people again (and I guess social media is a valid form of social connection and I talked a lot more on I.G. than Twitter or even Tumblr anymore).
And something else that has bugged me during this dark night of the soul is that I'm second guessing myself on a lot of things. Like, was I ever "in normal" love with J.G., or was it infatuation? Since being ghosted, is my reaction to that event - constantly thinking of J.G., wishing I was talking to them, being with them, etc. - also infatuation, or is it me trying to fill in the vacuum of a person whom I liked and cared for suddenly vanishing with no closure?
I guess another motive for me to go back on I.G. is because... I'm sincerely trying to move on and be with some else, or at least be with someone long enough so I can forget about J.G. ,even if I have to force myself. Again, I found the missing business card from the guy I met at the museum event, and their art account is on I.G. so... I should try, right?
I do feel like I'm betraying some part of myself by doing this, because being me - a perpetual overthinker - I thought from the start that me catching feelings for J.G. was me just being infatuated with them, so I actually went cold turkey from I.G. and J.G. for an entire summer in 2020 (I did tell them I was taking a hiatus from social media - even if they didn't think anything of it (probably didn't), I wanted to think they would be concerned that I was gone for a long stretch of time). Not only that, BUT I WENT ON DATES WITH PEOPLE - and this was after the fact that I started to gravitate toward J.G., an established friend, after a fall/winter season of repeated failures on dating apps with rando dudes from my home area. So I think that was a sincere attempt to distinguish if I was infatuated with J.G. or if I really wanted to be with them.
But maybe I'm wrong, so in both situations, I just need to force myself to be with someone, talk with someone, even lay with someone, if just so I won't end up like some soap opera anti-heroine.
Maybe I'll hit it off with this guy right away and he'll just sweep me off my feet.
Or maybe not... but maybe they'll at least be respectful of me. I guess that's all I can ask for at this point.
I dunno. I guess I just have to try or something.
1 note
·
View note
Text
untouchable | vii
Atsumu x Reader
desc: in which an accidental run-in with pro volleyball player, Atsumu Miya, at a 7/11 leads to a strangers-to-lovers situation… but the catch is, you have no idea that he’s famous.
warnings: slight language, anxiety
wc: 3.2k
part 6 ⚬ part 7 ⚬ part 8 (coming soon)
untouchable m.list
—
“Here ya go.”
Osamu sets down a small cup of water, letting it clink against the bar’s granite surface. There’s no ice in it, but you can tell by the condensation on the glass that it’s cold. Osamu tosses a plastic straw toward you and it lands conveniently right next to your cup.
Throwing him a quick smile, you reach to take a sip but pause when you hear the click and gentle hiss of a drink can.
You’d know that sound anywhere.
It’s a reminder of street vending machines and roadside shops. Of summer walks on hot pebbled pathways and after-class escapades with old high-school friends.
But, just to be sure, you glance over to study the object in the hands of the man next to you.
Yes, you confirm, Miya Atsumu has indeed brought a can of green tea into his brother’s restaurant. And, yes, you are quite amused.
You choke down the rising laughter in your chest, though you can’t hide the small smile creeping onto your lips. This is the dorkiest thing you think you’ve ever seen on a not-date before.
“Where the hell were you hiding that?” You tilt your head, leaning toward him to get a closer look at the drink.
“You’ll see.” Completely unfazed, he reaches for his coat, which hangs on the back of the chair, and digs into the pocket…
And, if what you’re seeing is true, he’s just fished out a second can. The paper covering the aluminum has a pink, floral print and reads, “Matcha-” but his thumb covers the rest of the lettering.
“What? Did you want one?” Atsumu tilts his head and places the can next to your water glass.
You stare at it, curious about two things.
The first thing being his massive fucking pockets. They must be something of a void for him to fit two whole cans in the same pouch. Well, it’s more like you assume they were contained in a single pocket. Otherwise, you would’ve noticed a sloshing, aluminum object bumping up against your side as you two walked arm-in-arm.
The second thing that struck you is that he actually thought to bring two. Did he plan on drinking both? Was it originally for his brother? Or did he intend to offer you one right from the start?
You do happen to like this brand of tea.
Atsumu leans back into his chair, tossing an arm over the back of the seat. “My friend tells me it’s good for digestion,” he explains and takes a sip.
“My digestion is just fine, thanks. You can keep it.”
Your eyes crease in mirth. He has some interesting friends, that’s for sure. And why does he care about digestion? He’s fit and muscular and... is he constipated or something?
Yeah, that’s not something you should ask about.
“I’m gonna try not to imagine what else you could be hiding in those pockets,” you say, twisting your face in concern and pinching your eyebrows together.
Atsumu grimaces, shifting in his seat. “Did ya have to say it like that?”
“I think I have every right to say it like that. You could be a freak for all I know.”
“Um, I think it’s entirely possible that you’re the freak here.” He shoots right back at you through mock-judgmental eyes.
Your jaw drops in amused surprise. You shove his arm playfully, but his balance hardly wavers. He grins in response, golden eyes glimmering. Your hand lingers briefly as you mimic his smile, but you notice and drop it quickly.
“Gettin’ comfortable now aren’t we?”
A faint flush dances across your skin. Maybe you were being a little touchy… but flirting hasn’t been this fun in so long. Anyway, he was the one who had you walking arm-in-arm with him earlier.
That thought alone makes your heart jump.
You look away, grasping the straw in your glass and twirling it around. “You got all comfy first,” is all you can huff out.
“Well, yeah.” Atsumu places an elbow on the table and props his chin up with his hand, “I mean, this is a date isn’t it?” He takes another sip of his drink, acting as though what he said wasn’t headline news.
Huh?
So apparently this whole not-a-date but possibly-a-date situation had an obvious answer… to Atsumu that is. It still felt about as clear as rocket science to you though.
“Is it?” The words flow from your lips before you can stop them.
He blinks. “Hm.”
You swallow, “Is this a date?”
He gestures a hand at the two of you, “I mean... I thought it was.”
Well, yes. You’re both sitting across from each other. Neither of you knows the other well. Atsumu had taken you to his brother’s restaurant.
Everything that’s happened in the past hour screams, “date.”
And, yet, it’s all too strange.
Suddenly the wooden barstool is much less comfortable. You readjust, crossing your dangling legs. You can hear every uneven as it leaves your body - hopefully his ears aren’t too keen.
Did you really change the atmosphere with just a few words?
Should you have assumed that this was a date from the beginning? But you were protecting yourself…
Thank God Osamu is in the back right now. You don’t think you could handle someone else (especially your date’s brother) hearing this conversation. The embarrassment would be way too real.
“But if you’re not okay with it bein’ a date, then that’s okay.” Atsumu is quick to speak, straightening up in his chair. “I probably forgot to clarify…” He searches your gaze for any change in reaction.
Yeah, he’s probably not adept at these sorts of situations. But neither are you.
There’s a noticeable tint to his cheeks. You’re sure it must burn because your own face has already burst into flames. Great, you’ve made him feel like he’s screwed up.
Atsumu mumbles a quiet “shit” under his breath, which would’ve found funny if it weren’t for your own pounding heartbeat.
Dammit, how can you salvage this? You might as well be fanning a flame at this point. If you weren’t careful, you could burn this entire opportunity to the ground.
“Ah, that’s not what I mean,” You respond, waving your hands out in front of you, “I just- I don’t know, you never said anything about it being a date over text, so I just assumed it wasn’t. Not that I would mind it being one...”
If you keep talking, the words will only get more muddled. You clamp your mouth shut so as to not say anything ridiculous.
Suddenly, the blank wall opposite the blonde is very interesting. Maybe if you survive the next 5 minutes you’ll suggest that ‘Samu add some art pieces to soften the stark white paint. It might also make avoiding eye-contact a little easier.
Despite not wanting to face him, you can’t exactly ignore the man sitting an arm’s length away from you. You glance back to him, bracing yourself for a face wrought with confusion.
But Atsumu looks… amused? Relieved? The lines of worry on his forehead have smoothed back out.
Well, whatever emotion he’s conveying, it’s better than the ones you saw earlier.
“Alright, then how about you tell me whether you want this to be a date or not?”
You bite your lip in thought. Partly because a male has just respectfully asked you if you’d like to go on a date (a date you’re already on.) That, in itself, is a rare sight indeed.
But mostly because he actually wants to go on a date with you.
Did you really meet him only a month ago? Was he ever a stranger to you?
He’s a little too friendly for that. But friendly isn’t the right word. Atsumu is understanding. And simple… but in a good way. Things are smooth like velvet when you’re around him.
You, who’s been shit out of luck over the past few years. You, who had to frantically accept a less than ideal job after moving away from your entire support system. You, who tried to abate loneliness with blind dates and Tinder matches... but only ever ended up shoving breadsticks in a bag before escaping through the backdoor of a mediocre restaurant.
After all the tears and life changes and dating apps and heartbreak, you finally have a choice that you can make by yourself without any serious repercussions.
And it’s a simple yes or no question.
“I’m gonna say, yeah. This is a date.”
A grin that could light up the city of Tokyo spreads across his face. You don’t know why he’s so happy, but it’s making your heart do somersaults in your chest.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” He grabs his drink, taking another sip.
Even you can feel the earnest smile on your face reaching your eyes.
“So, can I ask ya somethin’?”
You sit up in silent anticipation. “Uh… sure.”
Atsumu clears his throat, looks away from you and runs a hand through the waves of his hair. Given Atsumu’s display of nerves, someone watching from the outside might think that this man was either about to break up with you or propose marriage.
Thank God it couldn’t be either of those things. But your hands clasp at your thighs anxiously anyway.
“Why’d you want to see me again?”
You find yourself holding your breath, letting his question sink in.
It’s a good question. An important question. Why exactly are you here? With him?
You’re usually better about setting your intentions before you dive into something new. Plotting out big decisions has saved your ass a multitude of times.
But this opportunity fell into your lap at the most peculiar of times.
In all honesty, you didn’t give his request too much thought. Hell, you didn’t even ask him if he’d give you time to think about your decision.
Thinking back, you really should’ve been way more careful… but you’re already here.
You lean back into your chair and meet his gaze head-on.
“Do you want an honest answer? Or would you rather me make something up?” You ask, a glimmer in your eye.
“Oh, yeah I love bein’ lied to, go right ahead.” He throws you a look through squinted eyes.
You laugh, “I’m assuming that’s sarcasm.”
“And you’d be right.” Atsumu’s chin sinks back into his hand, awaiting your honest answer.
You give yourself a moment to breathe, leaning back into your chair and relaxing your body.
It’s best to keep things brief - you’d hate to overwhelm him with your own life. And something tells you he has his own complicated shit to deal with.
“I’ve had a rough few years here and my social life is about as interesting as a brick right now.” You glance over to him, “Plus you seemed a little weird. But fun.”
This is all true. But there’s so much more you’d like to say.
Stuff like,
“You’re so easy to be around.”
“Your voice is comforting.”
“I’ve felt like shit but you’ve given me something good to think about.”
“I feel a little less lonely lately and I think it’s because of you.”
But you know that would be overstepping some major boundaries. You’d play it cool and keep your thoughts to yourself for now.
“A bit blunt, but I’ll take it.” He quirks an eyebrow.
“Hey, you’re pretty blunt yourself.” You fake a frown, but can’t suppress your smile for long.
“Okay, sure, I’m not the most tactful… but you should’ve seen me in high school.” He sighs, eyes growing fuzzy with memories.
But he’s quick to snap back to the present.
You snort. “I bet you were a hoot.”
Osamu’s voice rings from the back, “He was a lot more than that.”
So he was listening in, your cheeks burn a little at the thought.
“Oi, shaddup, ‘Samu.” He lifts his head, calling back with a playful growl in his voice.
“I have video evidence, don’t tempt me to share it,” Osamu warns, but he gets back to business.
Your eyebrows raise. Now that’d be fun to see.
He notices your curiosity but is quick to furrow his brows. “Oh, no, no. I want you to get to know me, but not that well,” Atsumu says, slightly perturbed.
“Not yet, at least.” He adds, after a few seconds.
Your eyes soften.
That makes sense.
Although, you hadn’t even expected him to show you the videos. You’d just wanted to tease him a little since that seems to be something he’s very comfortable with. You like that it’s a “not yet” instead of a “never,” though.
But instead of continuing this part of the conversation, you divert to asking his question back to him.
“Well, I think it’s your turn to tell me why you asked me out.”
And you swear you must’ve just said something ridiculous because he looks hilariously surprised. Like a deer in headlights. A jammed highway of car-headlights with the brights on full blast.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess that he hadn’t even thought about it. That or he didn’t want to tell you.
Either way, you deserve to know at least this much. You wait with your hands placed patiently in your lap and a trained indifference in your eyes.
—
Okay, so maybe he’s not the sharpest crayon in the box.
Atsumu knows he has a good reason for asking you out… he really does.
But it wasn’t the kind of reason one could eloquently verbalize. I mean, shit, what does Atsumu do that is eloquent?
It was more of a gut feeling than anything else.
But he’s sure if he told you that he wanted to date you based on “instinct” that you’d laugh and promptly flee the restaurant like a prison escapee jumping the walls holding them captive.
He pulls himself together because he’s sure you can sense his discomfort. He’s never been great at disguising his emotions - he’d only ever learned to mask them with nonchalance and angry outbursts… and that’s a no-go when it comes to the press. Atsumu had to drop those reactions like a hotcake.
“I…” he swallows but gives a wry smile, “Y’see… I live a bit of a complicated life.”
He scans your face like he’s searching for his next words within your eyes. But you’re must be a blank page because they don’t come to him.
“Okay, now, don’t go telling me you’re wanted for some sort of federal crime.” You tease him as your lips brush against your straw, lightening the atmosphere in the process.
Atsumu’s lips open to let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in. “Ah, ya got me. That’s exactly what I was gonna say.” He responds dryly.
“That’s so sad. And I really thought this was going well, too.” You hum and take a sip of water.
He clears his throat, loosening his shoulder with a stretch. For someone who’s lived most of his adult life in the limelight, he hasn’t had to talk about it much. People either know he’s famous or they don’t.
You’re so kind. You listen well. There’s something about you that he’s magnetized by. Something that continuously draws him back in.
So if you were to learn about his life and see him differently? It would be a door slamming into his face, sealing his fate to be a really fucking lonesome bachelor. Which is a funny concept until you are the lonely bachelor.
So what exactly is he supposed to tell you?
Out of habit, his hand reaches for his hair… but he freezes before he can run his fingers through it.
Because the words are coming to him like a lone flower petal drifting to the ground. Soft and solemn.
He asked you out because his chest hasn’t ached like this in so long.
The warmth you’ve brought him in such a short time flares inside of him; why should those flames to die down anytime soon?
Because when’s the last time he spoke with somebody new and felt so normal? He’d never craved simple conversation back in high school. Even in his early 20’s, he’d just been searching for quick flings and easy getaways - those were easy to manage and feelings almost never got involved.
But being with you is like honey to hot, bitter tea. Like chowing down on a hot meal when he’s hungry.
No, it’s not easy to explain, but your presence is somehow satiating to his soul. Osamu even said that he’s been “less of a dick” since he started talking with you, so that must count for something.
You don’t need to know all of that. That’d be really weird. But if you were already being honest with him (even if you hadn’t spilled your entire life’s story) then he can be honest with you.
But with this groundbreaking realization comes the hard part. Saying it out loud. And while he’s sometimes smooth in terms of flirting, he’s absolute shit at explaining himself.
The words come out slow and awkward. “I’ve been havin’ a hard time with… people.”
Okay, that’s not at all what he meant to say.
There are a million things you could’ve gleaned from that useless sentence. ‘I have a hard time with people?’ I mean, if that didn’t sound like a red flag, then what does?
“Oh, really?” Your eyes are wide and thoughtful and he swears he sees a glint of amusement flash through them.
Shit, this would be harder than he thought.
“Well, dating in particular, but that’s because my life is out of wack.” He presses on, but it only comes out worse.
Maybe he should’ve taken that communications class back in high school. It would’ve saved his ass in his interviews and, more importantly, here.
You nod along, folding your arms. “Mhmm.”
It’s both unfair and such a relief that you’re finding his verbal blunders funny.
“Okay, gimme a minute, this is comin’ out all wrong.”
“Take your time,” you smile and your eyes crinkle. “I’ll be here all night.”
But is it possible to soften what he’s about to say? To give you something to chew on rather than a bunch of information to choke on?
Being candid with you is the only fair way to do this. If he isn’t straightforward with you, you could end up getting hurt. Even being with you here at his brother’s restaurant is a risk — he should’ve thought through that decision better too. Not that he visits his brother there in person much, but it’s still not a gamble he likes to make.
Anyway, what’s done is done. He’s just got to tell you.
Atsumu sits up, resting his clenched fists on his thighs and knitting his brows together.
“Listen, I’m not sure how to tell you this…”
You shift in your seat, mouth closed and eyes fixed on his. There’s a tension in your posture, but he tries not to let it deter him.
“But I’m...”
—
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#miya atsumu#atsumu#atsumu x reader#will tag those on the tag list soon!#sorry for any grammatical issues - i'm up late and i can't see well... rly need a beta reader tbh#but i think i weeded out most mistakes?#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagines#atsumu scenarios#atsumu imagines#miya twins#osamu miya#hq x reader#untouchable series
322 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sonny Carisi ~ It Reminded Me of You
the inspiration for this was literally a Ben & Jerry's ad on my facebook
Not spon but B&J if you wanna sponsor me hit me up
ada!Sonny x Detective!Reader
A non-covid world
all errors are my own v sorry
words: 1365
It felt like weeks since you’d actually spent quality time with Sonny. You didn’t even have to be doing anything you could just sit next to him while he sat on his phone for hours just as long as you were actually with him, that’s all you cared about. It was so much easier when you were both working as detectives, sure you were working and being professional but you were just with him more often than not.
Now that he’s an ADA however, it feels like your schedules just never line up. And yes of course you still get to work with him it’s just not the same level.
You texted Sonny earlier in the day to see how his workload was going, hoping he’d be home at a reasonable hour. It was Friday and you had the full weekend off, not even on call. Liv even promised the only way you’d get called in was if it was a matter of national security. She’d seen how down and exhausted you had been lately and she wasn’t having it - Mama Benson will not let anything happen to her people.
When Sonny replied saying he’d managed to plead out his most pressing cases and that he see you at his place for an actual home-cooked meal and a weekend of doing nothing, you felt yourself burst with happiness.
You were packing up your stuff for the night saying goodbye to Kat and Amanda as they walked out when your phone rang.
A dopey grin spread across your face like always and Fin rolled his eyes, heading into Liv’s office.
“Hey Handsome, I’m just packing up my stuff should be at yours within the hour”
“Doll-“ you knew that tone, you knew it was gonna be bad, something had come up “I’m so sorry Hadid just handed me about 8 files that all are being arraigned on Monday, I’m gonna have to put a rain check on that meal” it wasn’t just going to be a rain check on the meal though, you knew Sonny and you knew he was going to work over the weekend. He put so much pressure on himself to make sure he did well and got the justice the victims deserved that he would exhaust himself on his only weekend off in about 3 months.
Tears welled in your eyes, you looked to the ceiling and blinked them away, determined not to let any fall.
Taking a deep breath to steady your voice before replying, “it’s okay Son really, work is more important”
“Nothing is more important than you Doll” you smiled sadly at his words
“I love you Sonny, it’s okay there will be more dinners and lazy weekends”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course bub, I love you” you reassured him.
“I love you too Doll, I’ll be home as early as I can”
Home.
It wasn’t official but you had basically been living at his apartment lately in an attempt to see each other a little more.
You hung up the phone, throwing it a little aggressively on your desk as Fin and Liv came out of her office. With tears still in your eyes, you sat down and looked up at the two of them.
“y/n...” Olivia started, she knew your plans with Sonny had fallen through, she always just knew.
“Don’t Liv. Please. Because if you say anything I’m gonna cry and I won’t be able to stop” you sighed your voice cracking slightly
“Do you wanna go for a drink? I’m sure phoebe won’t mind” Fin smiled sadly
“N-no” you cleared your throat “no I’m fine I’ll just get some more paperwork done here. You go home”
“Nope, you are not staying here. Go home y/n, get some rest” Liv pulled you up from your best wrapping an arm around you
“Sometimes I just wish he was still here” you whispered
“I know... me too...” Liv sighed
You said goodbye to Fin and Liv out the front of the precinct, reassuring them both that you were in fact okay and grabbed a cab back to Sonny’s apartment.
“Actually just let me out here… Thanks” you smiled to the driver, handing over the money and jumping out of the cab and walking straight into the 7/11.
You walked around the small 7/11 store trying to decide what you wanted. At this point you didn’t really feel like anything, you just wanted Sonny. You spotted the ice cream and well if you weren’t going to get to spend the night with Sonny at least you could spend it with Ben & Jerry. You took your time scanning the different flavours, a very important decision.
Cookie dough...Strawberry cheesecake...Chunky Monkey...
Then your eyes saw it. You grabbed the pint of ice cream and paid, quickly walking up to Sonny’s apartment.
Sonny rubbed his face in exhaustion and sadness. It felt like he hadn’t made any progress in the past hour on any of the cases he had been handed just before he was about to head out the door. He’d had such a plan for the weekend. Tonight he was going to cook your favourite meal and spend the night on the couch watching whatever stupid romcom you could find on Netflix. He planned to take you out on Saturday, walks in the park and maybe the art gallery and then Sunday, his favourite day, he was going to let you sleep in as long as you wanted and make you your favourite breakfast in bed and spend the day doing absolutely nothing. He was going to turn your phones off and spend the day lying in bed, order in any food you guys wanted because it was going to be the last day of just the two of you for probably a while. And now it was all gone to shit because of these cases in front of him.
Sonny loved being an ADA but right now he wished he never left the NYPD. Groaning as his phone pinged with a message he looked at it. It was Liv.
I know you are busy but please go home to girlfriend and get some rest, she needs you
Sonny frowned and typed out his reply
is she okay?
she just misses you Sonny and knowing you, you miss her too
how’d you know i was even still here?
The reply was just a screenshot of Liv’s find my friend's app. Sonny let out a laugh and sent back a heart before packing up his stuff and heading home.
When Sonny finally walked through the door of his apartment it was just before 10pm. Much earlier than you’d expected him. You shot up from the couch when you heard someone at the front door.
“Hey Doll” Sonny smiled putting his briefcase down at the door and shrugging his suit jacket off, letting it fall to the floor without a care in the world
“Sonny!” you ran to him and all but jumped in his arms. It felt silly but you really had missed him.
“I’m sorry Doll” he mumbled into your hair
“what for?”
“for messing up our plans, I feel like I just keep cancelling everything” he sighed
“hey” you pulled back from the hug and cupped his face making him look at you “do not feel bad. I understand, your job is important. Hell, how many times have I been called away? This is just how it is, but I’d rather only spend 5 minutes with you than a lifetime with someone else”
“I love you so much doll” Sonny blushed brushing his lips against yours “I’ll have to work a bit tomorrow but I’ll get everything done and then it’s just you and me all day Sunday” he held his pinky up to you “pinky promise” you grinned wrapping your finger around his. Sonny kissed your hand before leading you over to the couch. “now who replaced me tonight?”
“Chris Evans” you grinned flopping down onto the chair. Sonny reached for the ice cream on the coffee table “oh, and Ben and Jerry”
“Cannoli flavoured?”
“It reminded me of you” you whispered, snuggling into his side.
#law and order svu imagines#law and order svu fanfic#sonny carisi x reader#sonny carisi fanfiction#sonny carisi x you#sonny carisi imagine
137 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stranger || Bakugou x Reader || { Anon Request } || Stalking
TW: Cursing || Stalking || Threats of violence || Implied desire for Non-Con (not from Bakugou tho)
Word Count: 5.5K
It started after the Sport Festival.
A DM that had been sent to your private social media account - a friend from your old school named Honoka. You hadn’t spoken to her since starting UA - and the moment you saw the notification, you felt guilty that this was how she had to reach out to you. She had been so proud of you when you got accepted, she almost started crying, hugging you tightly and telling you as much. She asked you to keep in contact in High School. You had promised her you would.
You had been so busy, it was hard keeping promises.
Honoka: Hey! I saw you on the TV - you were amazing! I can’t believe they wouldn’t let you pass onto the finals. Good thing though - you would have gone against that asshole.
Honoka: Not that you couldn’t have handled it!
It should have tipped you off that one of the quieter kids of school would have used such language, but it didn’t. It had been a few months since starting high school and people have changed faster. You didn’t think much about it aside from replying before your train pulled into the station. You might miss your stop and be late to school.
You were always punctual and refused to have something as stupid as that go against your record.
You waited until you were off the train, standing on the steps before sending a quick message.
Thanks! It was really terrifying. But I lost fair and square. Besides, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t make it to the finals. So I guess it’s okay. :)
You decided not to humor her comment about Bakugou. While it drew a hot, angry tie around your neck, part of you understood. Honoka wasn’t alone in thinking he was...less than pleasant. It had been a point of contention, something that bothered you both that day and since. People were just wrong about him. She didn’t know him like Class 1-A did. A few short clips from some televised sports festival didn’t do him nearly the justice he was deserved.
You didn’t have enough time to put your phone back in your jacket pocket when it buzzed again.
Honoka: Still.
Honoka: You were so strong. We all think they should have made an exception for you.
Honoka: We should meet up sometime. Gtg! Text me after school to set up a time!
You wanted to question it but you didn’t.
You really should have questioned it.
King Explosion Murder was a perfectly good name.
Miss Midnight just doesn’t understand art.
The conversation had been going on for a hour. It was the longest that you and Bakugou had texted. You had moved from a group text to your own private thread. He didn’t text you like normal boys did - no pictures, no emojis, no stupid memes he had found. It was...conversation, one that hadn’t been as hard to keep going as you thought. you tried to distract yourself with school work while he replied, but found it hard not to keep your attention on your screen as the text bubble flashed.
Bakugou: It was better than “Deku”.
Well Deku was less violent
Bakugou: AND IT WAS STILL BETTER
Bakugou: THAN FUCKING DEKU’S
Honoka: You still up?
You stopped. Honoka? Why on earth was she texting you...oh shit. You groaned, rubbing your eyes and kicking yourself for forgetting to text her back like she had asked. You had been so wrapped up texting Bakugou since getting home that it just completely slipped your mind. Though, to be fair, most things slipped your mind around him.
You opened your chat with her, trying to figure out how to apologize without seeming like too much of an asshole.
Hey, yeah, sorry.
I started talking to one of my classmates and totally forgot.
My bad, dood.
Once again, she replied quickly.
Honoka: Who were you talking to?
There was a small part of you that wanted to ask her why it was her business, but you bit your tongue. She probably didn’t mean anything by it and some residual bitterness from her comment this morning was probably lingering. You took a deep breath.
Bakugou.
We workshopped hero names today. His got shot down by our teacher.
It was so sad. 🤣🤣🤣
Honoka: Why are you talking to him?
It wasn’t a question, not really. It was a statement. Like you talking to Bakugou was taboo, you could practically hear her grasping her pearls. You shouldn’t have had to explain to her why you were talking anyone, let alone him, and it bothered you that she felt she was owed that right. That she even dare ask the question. Your brow furrowed as you sat up in bed.
What do you mean?
Honoka: Why are you talking to him? He seems like an dick
Honoka: And isn’t good for you.
Honoka: You need to focus on being the best hero you can be.
Honoka: He seems like he would only drag you down.
Rage filled your stomach. Your hands were shaking as you tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. She had never acted this way before...right? She had always been so nice and meek and unassuming and...
You were confused, finding yourself chewing on your lip as you tried to make sense of what the hell you were seeing.
He’s my friend. I really like him.
Look, he’s not as mean as he appears on TV. He’s actually a really good guy. And he’s really smart and he’s going to be a better hero than even me some day.
So I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk about him like that.
The chat bubble popped up. Then disappeared. Then popped up. And disappeared again.
It’s funny - you had never felt so threatened by someone not answering. But as the bubble flashed for a final time, something told you that you had fucked up.
Honoka was always quiet, yes, but she was also amazingly sweet. She cried when you were little kids at the ending scene in All Dog’s Go to Heaven, always scrounged up change to donate to someone on the street looking for food, and volunteered every weekend to help with the younger students struggling in studies. She hadn’t been born with a mean bone in her body.
But by the end of the week, you were certain the person messaging you wasn’t the same Honoka you knew. She had changed - and not for the better. Not in the slightest. She was growing more insistent that you talk to her - every night. And if you didn’t?
The calls were incessant. One after the other until you finally had to shut your ringer off. And the voicemails - she never spoke. Just let it sit for a moment before hanging up. And you were grateful for it - you didn’t want to talk to her. Every chance she got, she showered you with praise and adoration while slinging hate at all your friends in 1-A. But no one got it like Bakugou did.
Honoka: Stop talking to him.
It’s not any of your damn business who I’m talking to.
Honoka: If you don’t stop talking to him, I’ll tell him what a whore you were in Middle School.
The water of your bath was scalding, but that didn’t stop you from shaking. Why was she doing this to you? Why was she so adamant about making your life miserable? This wasn’t Honoka - not even in the slightest.
I’m blocking you. Leave me alone.
Don’t talk to me anymore.
No matter what, he was pure evil to Honoka. He was disgusting, arrogant, rude, a monster, a villain hiding in sheep's clothing and would do nothing but drag you down. He would hurt you, she said.
Honoka: Go ahead. I’ll just make other accounts.
She was as good as her word. At least that hadn’t changed.
Your classmates were starting to take notice. After the first few accounts were blocked, she started using a calling app to randomly call you - only to hang up the moment you answered. Sometimes it was once a night, supplemented with texts about what a no good, lying whore you were. About how you were just some slut who’s opening you legs for the first guy who gave you any attention.
Honoka: Fucking skank.
Honoka: You’re so fucking worthless.
Honoka: You fucking him? Is that it? Is that why you want to defend him so bad?
Honoka: He’s probably fucking every other girl in your class.
Other times, the calls were every hour on the hour. It had gotten so bad, that you started sleeping in later and later.
You raced through the empty halls, trying to will time to back up. You had slept in, missing your first train. When you got on the second one, you fell back asleep until the stop after yours. The only thing you could do was get off and just run to school as fast as you could. Class had started 20 minutes ago. This had never happened before - in your whole life. You were always meticulous about getting to class early.
You were a good student. A good person. You were.
“Well, look who decided to join us.” Mr. Aizawa didn’t even bother to hide the annoyance in his voice. It made it all the more terrible
You wanted to cry. You felt the eyes of everyone in your class fall on you. It made your skin squirm, your stomach flip. You wanted to turn around and just...run home. To crawl into your bed and...
You bowed low, your head almost hitting the floor. “I’m so sorry I’m late, sir! It won’t happen again!”
“Be sure that it doesn’t.” His glare hardened. “We’ll talk after class about your punishment.”
Punishment. Shit. You couldn’t speak, resigning to solemnly nodding as you making the walk of shame to your seat, collapsing down. You had to take a minute, to steady your breath. To try and collect yourself. At least at school, you had an excuse not to answer her texts. To ignore her and pretend like she wasn’t out there being fucking crazy. School was safe. School was free from it all.
Almost by habit, you turned and looked over at Bakugou. A small part of you was praying that he was looking at you. That his glare would ground you in a way only it knew how. But when your eyes met...the only thing you felt was misery.
You fucking him? Is that it?
Your heart raced, panic flooded your nerves, and all you wanted to do was run. Get away from everyone and just...just go to sleep. You just wanted to sleep. But Honoka wasn’t allowing that. You couldn’t stop thinking about half of the things she said while the other half had been resting heavily in your stomach, making you sick. She was stealing everything from you.
You’re a fucking slut opening her legs for the first guy who gives you attention. And of course it had to be that fucking dog.
No...no you couldn’t look at him for too long, afraid that he would know. Terrorized as you were, you couldn’t run the risk of him finding out. Because...what if she messaged him first? What if she told him all of her lies and...what if he believed her?
No. No, that couldn’t happen.
You pulled away from his stare, folding in on yourself. Just get out your books. Focus on class and get out your books. Your phone dinged and your blood ran cold. You dreaded even looking at it, but as you tugged out your notebook, the piece of plastic fell, resting against the back of your bag. It was as if some higher power was damning you to be always aware of the vitriol Honoka was spewing in your direction. The lock screen shone bright: 21 missed texts, 44 missed calls. But the most recent message sent horror down your spine.
Honoka: Naughty girl, sleeping in late for school.
You slipped out of the lunch room and made your way down the hall. You were going to put an end to this - once and for all. You didn’t know what game Honoka was playing at, but whatever it was, you were fucking done. She was starting to seep into every facet of your life and it was ending now. Right then, in that hallway.
When you got a safe distance away from the double doors, to ensure no one could hear you when you started screaming, you searched through your contacts for her number. When you finally found it however...
God, just looking at her name made you sick. The fact her contact picture was of you and her, eating ice cream at a beach, grinning and giving the camera a peace sign, posing as only 12 year old girls knew how, it drove a knife into your chest, twisting it even deeper the longer you stared at it. She was making your life a living hell. It wasn’t right, it didn’t make any fucking sense. Why was she doing this to you? Did you do something to her? Were you cruel in your last interaction? Did you make a joke that went so poorly that she decided the only way to get back at you was to ruin your entire life? To push you so close to the edge that...
She going out of her way to make your life a living hell and for what?
Well, no better time like the present to find out.
Your thumb slammed down on the dial button. Each ring was like nails on chalk board.
Her voice was even worse.
She said your name so surprised, before crying it out in joy. “Oh my god, it’s been so long!”
Well...that...wasn’t...true?
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Honoka went silent on the other end of the phone. “Uh...are you okay?”
“You’ve been harassing me since the festival and you’re just going to act like-”
“Wait...what?”
“The thousands of texts!? The millions of calls!?”
She didn’t answer. You couldn’t help the grin that spread over your face. You fucking got her. You caught her in her bullshit lie and she didn’t have anything to say for it. You hated to admit it, but part of you was excited to hear how she was going to explain it way. How she was going to break down and finally you could tell her off and it was going to stop and you could get a good night’s sleep and maybe your mom could make your favorite curry and you would be able to eat it and not throw it up later and -
“I haven’t been texting you.”
Well...you couldn’t have said you were expecting that. You stopped, staring at your feet. “I...what?”
“I...haven’t been calling you. Or texting you.” She said, her voice - that ever familiar voice - filled with worry.
...of course she would be worried. She was always so fucking nice.
“Yes you have!!” You shouted, gritting your teeth.
She said your name, so softly and so calmly, “No. I haven’t. I promise you, I haven’t. Are you okay? Is everything alright?”
The phone vibrated in your fingers and the screen lit up once more. Another unknown number was calling you. You didn’t hesitate and for the first time since this all began you answered the her-him-they-it.
“What!?” You screamed, pressing the phone to your ear. You strained to hear, to try and find out who was doing this to you. “What do you want!? Why are you doing this to me!? Leave me alone!!!”
...click!
The dial tone felt like a death sentence.
The hallway shrunk and expanded, growing larger and darker - like the mouth of the beast, it was going to swallow you whole. You pressed your phone to your forehead, slumped to the floor and realized...you were crying. No, not just crying. You were sobbing, each one wracking your body and shaking your bones. Shit...shit, shit, shit. You just wanted to go back to the way things were. You wanted it to stop, wanted whoever was doing this to leave you alone and -
Your phone buzzed again. Another message.
Another sob rocked your body, but you found the strength to turn it back into view.
UNKNOWN NUMBER :: [ MULTIMEDIA MESSAGE ]
Your fingers trembled so hard you almost dropped the phone. You didn’t want to look at whatever it was. Whoever was doing to you was fucking sick, was deranged and psychotic and out of their mind and...you had to do something about it. Maybe you could tell a teacher? But what could they do about it? Up security? Just for you? No, it was entirely out of the question. You couldn’t go to the police - since who ever this was hadn’t physically done anything to harm you.
You were on your own.
You opened the message.
It was your house. The sun was setting. Then another. This one was early in the morning. Then another. And another. Another another another another another another another another another different angles, different times of day...but all focused on one spot.
Your bedroom. Sometimes it was empty, but other times you were in shot. Sometimes working on homework, sometimes sitting with your cat on the window sill, other times pulling your shirt above your head, reaching behind your back for your bra and...
UNKOWN NUMBER : Stop ignoring me.
Your phone clattered to the floor as you gripped your hair, trying to steady your breathing. In two three fours, Out two three fours. In two three fours, Out two three-
“Hey.”
The scream was involuntary, as was backing against the lockers so hard that you slammed your head against them. Bakugou recoiled, staring at you, his eyes wide with surprise. It didn’t last long, quickly overtaken by gritted teeth and snarls. “The hell is your-”
He must have noticed the tears, the absolute panic on your face. The silence fell over the two of you, the echo of your scream now long gone. You wished you were. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t face the shame of what was happening. How could you explain it.
“You alright?”
You pulled your legs up to you chest, hugging them tightly. “No,” You replied.
Bakugou was never one for consolations. So you were almost surprised when all he made his way over to where you were sitting and sat down beside you. You flinched, only a little, but it didn’t seem to bother him none. He shoved his hands in his pockets, but didn’t say a word, his bright red eyes focused out the window across from you. You...were grateful. For the first time in almost two weeks, you didn’t feel entirely vulnerable. Like everything was crumbling down around you. And in this small moment of peace, you felt horribly exhausted. Your mind ached, your body was sore, your eyes were so red and...and...
You rested against his shoulder and he didn’t make a move to stop you. It was like Bakugou was putting himself between you and...whoever was stalking you.
Stalking you. You had a stalker.
You sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I’m sorry.” You offered.
“For what?” He barked.
“For crying.”
He didn’t answer for a moment, “Tch. Yeah, well...maybe suck it the hell up. Whatever it is, it’s not a big deal.”
Not a big...you turned to look at him, eyes narrowing. “Not a big deal...?”
He looked at you, a bored and disgruntled expression on his face. “Yeah.”
“It’s kind of a big fucking deal.”
“Oh yeah? Well then what the hell is it?”
“Whoa, it’s that kid who just won the Sports Festival!”
“Oh, wow! He’s so much scarier in person!”
“Do you think he would be mad if I asked for an autograph?”
“Yeah! Look at his mug - he’s obviously pissed off about something!”
Bakugou had stayed late, even through your detention, to walk you home. It was nearly dark now as you walked side by side down your street. The sun was struggling to peak over the row of houses and a purple ink had settled over the top of the sky.
It was taking everything in you not to apologize...again. He didn’t need to be dragged into your mess. But...shit, it wasn’t like you weren’t ecstatic that he offered to walk you home back in the hallway. He was a terrifying presence, unstoppable. As he stalked down the road towards your house, a scowl on his face as his eyes peered around every corner, it hit you that you felt safer now than you had the past few weeks.
“Hey.” You picked up the pace, making sure to stay close. “Thank you again. I just-”
“Ugh, stop thanking me!” He glared at you.
“I’m just-” You sighed and gripped your bag straps. “I...I don’t see the point of you walking me home. Not...that I don’t appreciate it, I just...won’t that make him mad?”
Bakugou scoffed. “That’s the point, you idiot.”
Sometimes, you thought you almost understood him. But then he blew up Rome and screamed at you to start over tomorrow morning. You stared at him in confusion though ultimately decided you didn’t have the energy to argue. You were just...thankful that he was here.
“This is me.” Your house was a small thing, nestled on the corner and surrounded by a garden that was meticulously maintained by your mom while you were at school and your father was at work. Sometimes the pictures had her in the shot, busy at work. Your lips thinned as you stared up at the second story window, Your white curtains lay still and your cat stared down at you, like she knew something was wrong. Like she knew...that things were amiss.
Well...Bakugou came all this way and the guy didn’t have the guts to show himself. As you had figured, you had completely wasted his time. It wasn’t like he was going to move in just to be your watchful protector. You didn’t want to think that maybe he was just patiently waiting until you were alone but...
“Do you want to come in for something to drink. It’s the least I could...”
Bakugou wasn’t looking at you. His attention was focused entirely over your shoulder. You blinked, taken aback by the cold, dead glare on his face. The way his eyes seemed to burn with...rage? Unbridled anger? Nothing seemed to do whatever it was justice. “You’ve been following us since the train station!” He yelled out. “Why don’t you stop being a fucking coward and come out of hiding!!”
…someone...had been following you?
You could see the reflection of someone in his eyes. With a shaking breath, you turned to look at who he was talking to.
You weren’t sure what you expected. But throughout the day, you had come up with an image in your mind of what your stalker had looked like. He would be the perfect embodiment of the horror you had suffered though, that was for certain. A Cheshire grin, wild unkempt hair, vacant, glossy eyes, maybe a knife or something - anything to solidify himself as the monster who had been making your life miserable. But...he wasn’t. As you got a good look at him, you realized that he looked relatively...normal. And for some reason, that thought alone made you sick.
He was about your age - maybe a bit older - in a school uniform you didn’t recognize. His hair was dark, pulled back and pushed behind his ears. His chin was dusted with facial hair and his eyes were darting between you and Bakugou. He had been standing by the cross walk and tried to pretend to be shocked that Bakugou was even addressing him.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t pull that bull with me.” Bakugou stepped around you, making his way towards him. “I saw you get off the train with us. You made every turn we did. Always stayed one step behind where you thought we couldn’t see you.”
The kid only got a word out before Bakugou gripped him by his shirt and slammed him up against the wall of the neighboring house. “Please!” The kid yelled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Bakugou!” Your legs finally remembered they could move. You bolted over to where he was standing, looking between the two of them. “Bakugou maybe it isn’t him! Maybe he-”
“Show us your phone then if you don’t have anything to hide!” He lifted him up and slammed him back against the bricks.
“I don’t have to show you anything, you fucking lunatic!”
You don’t think you had ever seen him on this street. You don’t think you had seen him ever but-
“HEY!” The boy tried to stop Bakugou from reaching into his pocket. But it was no use.
You caught it was ease, “Try the day of the sports festival for the password.” Was all he said.
This was fucking insane. What if this kid wasn’t the stalker? What if he was just some random guy who was meeting a friend. You looked back and forth between the two of them - Bakugou, hair wild and death in his eyes, and this guy who looked down at him with fear and...
...oh...
You swiped up, entering the date as instructed.
It unlocked.
And you were met with a pretty lain layout. Some photo editing apps, Youtube, a few games, and...
Texting and Calling apps. Your blood ran cold as you opened the first one up. Texts apon texts, all to the same unlisted number. Your unlisted number. You went to the photo gallery and there they were. The pictures of your house. Some of them were zoomed in and cropped to only show you. You wanted to be sick. You wanted to-
“I can explain!”
“What the fuck,” You breathed, scrolling through the pictures. Not just of your house, but of you - walking home from school, of hanging out with your friends, of you shopping. And that’s when you saw the edited versions.
Fuck. Oh Shit Fuck.
“I was only trying to help you!!” He cried, scratching at Bakugou’s wrist, making his skin bleed. “I only want what’s best for us!”
“I think I’m going to be sick.” You covered your mouth, trying to think of what to do next. Should you call the police? Your parents!? What do you do now?
His eyes fell on Bakugou, practically snarling. “I knew he would do something like this!! I knew he would try to make me look like some psycho, but I’m not. I know how he would treat you! He’s a rabid fucking dog, a mongrel! I couldn’t let him treat you the same way! I couldn’t! I’m just trying to protect you! But you wouldn’t fucking listen!! So I thought if maybe you and I could talk you would understand! You would see what I’m-”
“ARGH!”
Your body tensed as the smell of burnt stone and ash filled the air. You looked up and half expected his head to be blown clean off. But it was still attached, only now he looked terrified as he stared down at Bakugou. You followed his gaze, saw the look of pure, unadulterated rage. His hand had connected to the wall beside the man’s head, smoke dancing up and around them. And he was shaking. Oh, god, how hard Bakugou was shaking.
He spoke low, deep in his chest. “Listen close, you freak. You’re going to leave her alone from this point forward - you got that? If I find out you’re even thinking about her, I’ll kill you myself!!”
The world fell silent. No one said a word until. Your stalker was crying now, shaking as he nodded, quickly, mumbling apology after apology. You couldn’t find the words to say, but your heart. God, your heart was beating so hard in your chest as you stared at Bakugou. He...he was...
Oh.
The window in the house behind you slid open. An older man leaned out the window, his wife nervously peering over his shoulder. The looked to the source of the commotion before standing up straight, fumbling as the smoke continued to rise from the spot Bakugou...well...destroyed. “Hey!! If you don’t get off my property, I’m calling the cops!”
...the police.
...
The police.
Oh god, you had his phone. You could prove he had been stalking you!!! You perked up, smiling for the first time in weeks, “Yes! Yes, please, call the police!”
The man stared at you, confusion on his face. “....what?”
The weight of the situation only grew heavier when the police searched the contents of the guy’s backpack.
Rope. A knife. Some cloth. A box of condoms. And a jar of a clear, sickly sweet smelling liquid. You heard one of the officers say what it was, though you were sure you weren’t supposed to hear. But you did, and so did your parents. Your mom nearly broke down for the third time that evening as your father swore under his breath.
Homemade chloroform.
His name was Eito Moto - a second year at another High School near your home. You would find out later that the stalking had started long before the Sports Festival - ever since he started working at the coffee shop you and your mom would go to every Sunday for breakfast. Your neighbors, the ones who actually called the police, had seen him hanging around sometimes but didn’t think much off it.
They thought he had just been a fan.
They decided not to press charges against Bakugou for putting a hole in their fence. “Given the circumstances,” The man said, “I think I would have done the same thing.”
You had to go to the police station to file a report and request a restraining order. It took well into the morning hours, where you mainly spent your time talking to different police officers, retelling the same story, going over evidence, assuring them you didn’t know this guy so you had no clue why he thought you two had been dating for months.
They sent Bakugou home, your parents offering him their thanks and promises they would find a better, proper way to think him for essentially saving your life.
By the time you fell into a crumpled heap on your bed, it was 2 in the morning. It had been so long since you felt...okay. Your stalker was in police custody for now, you could at least rest easy tonight. You gripped your pillows, tugging them up and over your head to block out what meager light filtered in through the hallway. No more late night calls. No more insistent texts telling you what a no good whore you were. You were okay.
Everything was going to be okay.
Bzzzz.
...oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
You peeked out from under your pillow, trying to calm your racing heart. It couldn’t be him, you thought. He was in jail, so they wouldn’t let him call you - right? They wouldn’t let him do that, even if they did give him one call. With shaking fingers, you reached out and plucked your phone from your end table.
Bakugou is calling!
Oh....oh thank god.
You couldn’t press accept fast enough. You sighed, resting back against your pillows. “Hey.”
“Is that bastard in jail?”
A laugh, a good honest laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s in jail. Dad and mom are gonna to talk to a lawyer tomorrow about our options.”
“Did you get a restraining order?”
You nodded. “Yeah. That’s what took so long and why we have to go to court. They gave me an emergency one so...” You blew out a puff of air, watching as a lock of your hair jumped up and fell back into place. “At least there’s that.”
“You should have talked to me about this sooner.” It was softer than you anticipated, less of a bite than he normally had.
You knew you should have. You should have told someone but...it felt so...pointless? Like it wouldn’t have mattered. But, you had to give credit where credit was due. “I wish I would have.”
He didn’t respond. You had expected he would have started yelling at you, about hiding it from everyone. Chastised you for being so stupid and letting it go on for as long as it had. But no, he stayed quiet. You could imagine him laying in bed, staring up at his ceiling, and wondered what he was thinking about. What he wanted to say.
You rolled over onto your side. “Hey, Bakugou?”
“What.”
“Thank you.”
There was a long pause before he let out a soft noise.
“Don’t be stupid. I was only doing what I had to do.”
Stalkers are fucking scary, yah know. I had to listen to some voicemails left by stalkers to get the vibe down right - and I still don’t think Eito sounded perfect but hey. At least one blessing in that: I’ve never been stalked.
#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugou#bnha#bnha x reader#katuski bakugou#bakugou x you#bakugou x reader#bakugo#x reader#mha imagines#mha bakugou#mha bakugo x reader#mha#mha x reader#tw: stalking#tw: noncon mention#if you need anything else tagged#let me know!
303 notes
·
View notes
Text
My take on NCT at Hogwarts
what is it with me and being active on this god forsaken app all of a sudden... anyways, i know that we've thrown jk rowling in the garbage but listen i can't just throw away my whole childhood for one stupid rich white cis woman. also i have no idea what's going on with the neos but when do i ever? alright here we go
taeil: he's giving me frustrated hufflepuff, like he really wished to be in gryffindoor but it didn't work out. think he'd be a halfblood and have a pet toad. likes to visit hagrid for tea sometimes. simps over some bad bitch in slytherin, really thinks she's into him too, everyone tells him she's way out of his league. broke his wand twice already trying to open a can of sardines
taeyong: also strong hufflepuff energy. he's the keeper and captain of their quidditch team and a prefect too, picked purely cause he's good with kids. walks around without his scarf in the cold winter because he wrapped it around ten's neck one morning and nagged on him for not taking care of his health properly, never got the scarf back and doesn't mind. i feel like snape would intimidate the crap out of him, like he would not be able to stay calm during his classes rip. he'd be adored by all the other teachers though, especially flitwick who believes he's really gifted in charms
johnny: a gryffindoor pureblood and keeper and captain of the quidditch team. always the one who tries to talk things out with mcgonnagall when they pull some stupid shit and get caught, never successful. has the marauders map and likes to throw underground raves in hidden rooms and tunnels. buddies with peeves and the house elves. buddies with everyone actually. and regardless of liking him like that or not, every girl in school has fantasized of fucking him in the quidditch locker room showers ooooop-
yuta: omg the heartbreaker of the school. a halfblood slytherin prefect and beater. snape's favourite student, like he gets whatever he wants from that man without trying. everyone is lowkey into him cause of his hot and mysterious vibe and there are so many rumours about his sex life circulating around, but no one actually knows if he's seeing someone. people also speculate he's a metamorphmagus but no lol he just dies his hair a lot. has a pet cat who's mean to everyone except him and mark. likes to explore the forbidden forest cause he's a weirdo
doyoung: a ravenclaw pureblood who hates quidditch, only shows up for taeyong's matches and nags him afterwards if hufflepuff loses. he's the headboy and happily uses his title to threaten haechan. hates divination with a passion and idolizes mcgonnagal, as he should. knows everyone's bussiness in the whole damn castle, never starts drama but almost always ends it. used to tutor some younger students but they quickly realised he's a mini mcgonnagall and zoomed straight outta there. snape lowkey wishes he was in slytherin but don't tell anyone
kun: gryffindoor headboy, probably the calmest person in that entire house and the only one who can kinda control the chaos. if yangyang or hendery annoy him too much he'll give them the wrong password on purpose, mcgonnagal has this unspoken respect for him for that reason. feels really bad for the house elves and wants to help them as much as he can. known as the dad or daddy of gryffindoor, depending on who you ask hehehehe
ten: the artsiest ravenclaw but fucking terrible at riddles, so he's always stuck at the door unless someone let's him inside lmao. is super into divination but purely for the aesthetic. never wears his uniform properly, always wears taeyong's scarf and lots of witchy jewelry. started a dance club in the room of requirement, loves hogwarts halloween with his whole heart. set a classroom on fire once and managed to sneak away undetected. always hooks up with someone at johnny's parties
jaehyun: the fucking fratboy of gryffindoor. he's a halfblood and a chaser on the quidditch team. left so many girls on read oh my god. sneaks alcohol and weed into school, coorganizes parties with johnny, yuta and mark. people think he's this hot bad boy or some shit, lol no bitch he's a dumbass don't waste your energy on a doofus like him, have you heard his laugh he sounds like a 45 year old man. mcgonnagall doesn't trust him at all, always looks at him with shifty eyes. the fat lady flirts with him everytime he approaches the commonroom door
winwin: on the snobby pureblood side of slytherin, like he gives off really judgy vibes. is in ten's dance club, there's a rumor going around that he's an animagus 'cause he moves gracefully like a cat or smth, but he isn't he's just really talented. spends most of his time in the owlery petting birds. the bloody baron freaks him out, most of the ghosts do. tried to be a big brother figure to renjun and chenle but they bullied his ass like crazy so he dropped them like hot potatoes
jungwoo: the most confident gryffindoor y'all. he's a muggleborn and a chaser. has the cutest pet owl, is really into care of magical creatures. snape hates him because he's too "sunny" of a person. wild at parties but looks fine in the morning somehow. the biggest flirt you'll ever meet and has so many bitches wrapped around his little finger lol, there's a rumor going around that he's real beast in bed. awesome at dueling, uses his cute airhead shtick to apsolutely destroy people. can you tell i love his pisces ass?
lucas: a hufflepuff halfblood and beater. wannabe fuckboy but can't because he cares too much lol, those muscles are made of feelings dawg. hits on every girl he sees and is almost always successful 'cause we're weak for cute and sweet himbos. is the biggest show off on the quidditch field and has his own fan club. really into care for magical creatures, like literally wants to befriend every single one of them, hagrid has to pull his ass away from them before he gets hurt rip
mark: a gryffindoor prodigy, a muggleborn and a chaser. the most stressed prefect you've ever seen. mcgonnagall has a soft spot for him and everyone knows it. snape dislikes him but respects him because he's fucking brilliant at potions. a lot of people like him and are into him but he doesn't know how to respond to them lol socially awkward king. plans parties with johnny yuta jaehyun and ten, is always roped into the dreamies schemes against his will. no one can fucking tell if him and haechan are on good terms cause they're at each other's throats all the time, but slobber all over each other like crazy when they get drunk
xiaojun: the most emotional ravenclaw. a halfblood and a prefect. he dated a girl for a long time and she broke his heart, moped about it in the prefect's bathroom for ages. lowkey believes she cheated on him with yuta but isn't sure, is extra weary around him though. says he's done with love but then simps over a new girl every two weeks smh. no one understands how he's such good friends with hendery and yangyang, like the combination of the two of them is a recipe for disaster. whenever they rope him into their bullshit, he always manages to drop their asses in the perfect time and doesn't get caught. many portaits are jealous of him 'cause he has better bone structure then them lol
hendery: the best definition of a gryffindoor. comes from a rich pureblood family, is a beater on the quidditch team. he's the life of the party, man. out of all the students he hates, he is the one snape hates the MOST and he's so proud of that. a really fast runner so he never ends up in detention 'cause it's just too hard to catch him. buddies with the ghosts and hagrid. tries really hard to impress girls, it only works half of the time when he's not being too intense
yangyang: also a gryffindoor pureblood, tried out for the chaser position but didn't make it, is still bitter about it. has a really fucked up owl that always messes up his letters. constantly in detention, like he's cleaned that entire castle by himself 43 times already. also in ten's dance club, also really good at dueling when he actually tries. really into muggle culture, explores it in his free time and shows everyone cool, new music he found all the time. gives kun daily headaches cause he's way too energetic in the morning
shotaro: imma say he's a hufflepuff but don't quote me on that cause i don't know him that well. he seems like he'd have lots of friends though and would be in ten's dance club
sungchan: don't know him well either so i'll just say gryffindoor??
renjun: i'm torn between ravenclaw and slytherin, gonna go with slytherin for him. he's a halfblood and a prefect, also uses his title to threaten haechan. loves defence against the dark arts anď herbology, might become a healer someday. gets tricked by the moving staircases all the fucking time, ends up at madam pomfrey's way more than he likes to admit. likes the slytherin aesthetic but can't stand the evil stereotypes. most people think him and chenle are brothers, wants to strangle chenle when he plays into it. once told the bloody baron to fuck off, no one dares get on his bad side since that day
jeno: pureblood hufflepuff prefect and a chaser. he's the cute, athletic guy everyone has a crush on. is on snape's good side 'cause he likes cleaning up his brewing station after finishing the task the lession is about. is the best flyer in the entire school and has the best chance of getting scouted in the future, everyone knows it but if you mention it to him he blushes like crazy. i feel like he's been in many fwb situations but they all ended well because he's a gentleman
haechan: a slytherin through and through. halfblood and seeker on the quidditch team. thought he was gonna be prefect and was hella pissed he wasn't chosen, i mean hello you're a snake who would want to give a snake authority goddamn it. also always complains during quidditch matches, calls everything a foul just 'cause he wants to win. puts up this persona of the mischevious slytherin boy but it falls flat on it's ass because he's peeves's favourite target
jaemin: a muggleborn hufflepuff, because of that reason he's sworn to himself he'll take care of jisung like a mother. a chaser on the quidditch team. such a sweetheart my gosh, like that dude is always so happy, unless he hasn't drunk his 6 cups of coffee. speaking of, mcgonnagall and pomfrey worry for his health like crazy but won't admit it. excells at care for magical creatures and charms, horrible at ancient runes like he didn't think there'd be so much math involved. girls are also crazy into him but he's such an introvert, the thought of someone wanting to be around him so much scares him. still flirts with everything that breathes lol
chenle: a slytherin and a pureblood, from one of those rich old families. because of that people expect him to be a lil brat, turns out to be the coolest guy you'll ever meet. he's friends with everyone regardless of house, a chaser on the quidditch team, known as the one who scores the most points in a game. he's great at defence against the dark arts and transfiguration, is thinking about becoming an auror 'cause that dude fears nothing i'm telling you. was made a prefect instead of haechan, rubs it in his face like crazy, but ultimately just let's people get away with stupid shit like "haha nice one, respect". memorized all the secret passageways of the castle in his head, helps johnny, mark, ten and jaehyun with their parties. pisses off filch like no other, was in detention all the time with yangyang until they realised how terrible it is when the two of them are in close contact lol so he gets let off the hook all the time. also fucking flirts with everything that breathes, the biggest fucking tease like you never know what he means smh
jisung: jaemin's muggleborn hufflepuff son, though most people are surprised he isn't in gryffindoor 'cause god the reckless shit that boy pulls... always late to breakfast with his uniforn all messy. people think he's very innocent but like his bestfriend is chenle, so how pure could he be. he's a seeker on the quidditch team, goes extra hard during hufflepuff-slytherin matches 'cause he wants to knock haechan off his high horse. blushes like crazy whenever he sees a cute girl which only gives chenle more reason to tease him 'cause he's a lil bitch like that. is the star of ten's dance club but has tripped and fallen down multiple flights of stairs, this kid's a walking paradox
to conclude:
gryffindoor: johnny, kun, jaehyun, jungwoo, mark, hendery, yangyang, sungchan
hufflepuff: taeil, taeyong, lucas, jeno, jaemin, shotaro, jisung
ravenclaw: doyoung, ten, xiaojun
slytherin: yuta, winwin, renjun, haechan, chenle
#nct#nct 127#nct dream#hogwarts#nct imagines#nct scenarios#taeil#taeyong#johnny#yuta#doyoung#kun#nct ten#jaehyun#winwin#jungwoo#lucas#yukhei#mark lee#hendery#xiaojun#yangyang#shotaro#sungchan#renjun#jeno#jaemin#haechan#chenle#jisung
316 notes
·
View notes
Text
Respectful Cannibalism
Summary: Watching mystery movie with a bunch of detective was a bad idea
A/n: While this is part 3 to my Space Case series, you’re not required to read Art Gallery Smile or Cosmonauts to understand the context to this. The only note I do have is that Dick and Steph are friends with Reader much to Tim’s everlasting horror. Special thanks to @littleredwing89 and @glorified-red for proof reading this mess.
Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff and a confusing amount of batkids in one scene.
Main Masterlist
Tim Drake Masterlist
Tim coughs, loud and ragged into the speaker. You find yourself wincing at the phone tucked against your ear. Tim sounds like he’s dying or, at the very least, he’s on his way there.
“I’m so-”
“Fucking tired of saying sorry that you decided to go skinny dipping in Gotham Harbor? Yeah. Great, I’m sick of hearing it too. Glad, we’re on the same page, Space Cadet.” You exasperate, pulling on your jeans violently enough for Tim to hear the angry shuffling of fabric.
“Skinny dipping?” Tim huffs, a fond smile playing on his lips as he drinks in the timber of your voice. Even when you were absolutely exasperated, your voice was still soothing or maybe he just misses your company. God, he’s such a sap.
You shake your head in disbelief. That was his take away? “Yes, Timmy, Buck-ass skinny dipping,” you laugh, coming out derisive and sharp. Tim groans this time filled with guilt. The first few sounds of another ‘I’m sorry’ form in the back of his throat as he runs his hand through his bed head. For once, you’re thankful that you’re nowhere near Tim because you are one apology away from decking him and you’re pretty sure that that’s a terrible thing to do to a sick person, especially one with no brain cells to spare.
“I- You were really looking forward to this (Y/n), don’t try to deny it.” You weren’t going to. He was right. You were looking forward to this date. You were impossibly, unreasonably giddy over the prospect of going to the planetarium with Tim this afternoon. WITH Tim. Sure, you’re pretty down about it but you were the tiniest bit more concerned about the fact that your boyfriend had water in his lungs and almost died of hypothermia for a hot second. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping that worry and murder radiate off of you in equal measure. “I was also looking forward to my letter from Hogwarts,” you sneer, pausing dramatically to look at your watch, “and it’s been roughly a decade.” You hear Tim swallow and the hairs on your neck bristle in petty satisfaction.
Tim chortles, a lively sound that startles you, then coughs but the sound comes out somehow sounding doubtful and teasing. Embarrassment flares up in you. “You were too!” you protest, hackles drawn to full height. A short breathy laugh leaves Tim and you feel the flush on your face ease into something softer and more rounded. All the sharpness in your veins dissipates as the flash of fondness for that stupid laugh takes over. You can imagine him warm under the covers smiling at the phone at your blunder. “Please, (y/n), my hopes were dashed when I was 4 and still not in the Jedi order.”
“Bullshit, you were never a child,” you snort, sharpening the grin on your face into something vicious. “I refuse to believe you were ever a child! You probably sprang out of a textbook fully formed- Wait, I’m getting off-topic. ” Tim hums innocently and you narrow your eyes at the phone, hoping he can feel the ‘I am revoking your breathing privileges’ look. “You always are.” Tim says before falling into a coughing fit.
“Sorry, Cosmo, I just keep getting lost in your eyes,” you whisper, pitching your voice rich and caramel smooth. There’s a sound on the other line. Tim is babbling you realize. You hear a shuffle of fabric and a body rising. Tim sucks in a breath, red-faced and caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. He can practically see the cocky grin playing on your face, the light of the sun reflecting as golden flecks in your eyes. “You can’t even see them!” Tim stammers, glowering at you through the phone. You cackle at him as if sensing the venomous look he’s giving you. “You can barely open them!” Tim rolls his, very much, open eyes, falling back into an unnecessarily large pile of pillows that Alfred insisted was necessary for bed rest with a loud ‘fwoof’. “Yes, I can,” Tim mumbles, sounding young for once. You do your level best to smother a grin on your face. “I’m just really drowsy from the chamomile tea Alfie gave me.” You stop dead in your tracks, one hand half in your coat the other on the doorknob. You blink. “You’re at the Manor?”
Tim pauses, making a frustrated noise. He shouldn’t have said that. “Dick and B… insisted.” This draws another one of your sharp laughs. He says insisted as if it was ever negotiable. “Did they ‘insist’ before or after they blow-dried and hung you out to dry?” Tim squawks and you hear shuffling again. Tim tries to remember why he doesn’t hate you. “Tell me again how you found out about me getting sick? Steph? Cass?”
“Hmmmmmm, Dick.”
“THAT TRAITOR”
“Funny way to pronounce older brother,” you hum smug. You can feel Tim glaring daggers at you. “You-”
“There’s a home theater, yeah?”
Tim pauses, this time longer. “I don’t like where this is going.”
“Answer the question, Space Case.”
He sighs. “Yes.”
“Great! It’s a date then,” you say, mentally preparing a route to the Manor from the vague directions Steph told you once. You could just use the maps app-
“NO!” You freeze. Tim flinches at the volume of his own voice. He whispers an indiscernible ‘I’m sorry’. You turn it over in your mind before speaking. “No?” You ask, trying your best to sound hurt instead of amused. Maybe you should have pitched your voice higher, more shaky. “Look, Tim, I-” Tim heaves a loud sigh. “-(Y/n), you’re fine-” Well, you aren’t, you think. You bite your tongue, physically to make sure you don’t say anything unnecessary. “-It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s- It’s just my siblings...” Tim knows that his siblings have been talking about you.
“Timmy, I can take whatever shovel talk they can give me,” you say with the confidence of someone who has never been dangled over the edge of a roof top. Ok, to be fair, YOU had nothing to worry about. Tim, on the other hand, was going to get roasted alive. Maybe he can persuade you into not- Tim hears the tell tale sputtering of your bike’s engine and he feels his blood pressure spike. The engine genuinely sounds like a death rattle.
“You’ll get sick.”
You swear and he hears another sputter of the engine. “You’ll get sick,” he croaks again, louder this time hopefully over the dying engine. Maybe if your engine dies right now, he’ll be spared from a slow agonizing death via siblings. “Relax Cosmo, I have the strongest ward against whatever you got,” you say, giving the engine a light kick. Tim hears a few metallic clunks then the engine stutters to life. Tim looks up past the ceiling trying to glare at whatever cosmic being resurrected your engine.
“Which is...”
“Being broke. It does wonders for your health.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Tim says, shifting burying his head against the too soft pillows. The soft fabric makes his eyes feel heavy. He yawns. He hears the sputter or your laugh. It’s hard to tell from the sudden drowsiness making his head swim.
“I promise I’ll explain to your typical rich kid ass when I get there, Tim.”
“That’s not how it works,” Tim slurs, face pressed into a pillow.
You laugh, he’s sure this time.
“I’m-” Tim’s mind unfocuses and the words you say garble together ”-Tim. ”
Tim blinks, mouth moving to ask you to repeat that but the last thing he hears is a soft click.
On the bright side, it would just be him and Alfred at the manor.
_________________________________________________________
Batmanisfake: I heard (y/n)'s coming over😶
Nightwingingit:👀 How do you even know that?
Batmanisfake: What are you? A cop?
Nightwingingit: say that again but slowly 🙄
Batmanisfake: ...
Damian: He bugged Drake's phone. For blackmail purposes, of course.
Nightwingingit: JASON
The Cool One: Shush Dick! He's onto something
Batmanisfake: Thank you
The Adult: I for once had nothing to do with it😌
Theactualbatman: I'm assuming we're all coming home tonight?
The Cool One: I'll bring popcorn
Damian: Nonsense Pennyworth will likely have some prepared
The Cool One:😭 We really do not deserve that man
Nightwingingit: Definitely
thesaneone: We're recording Tim's face when he sees us, right?
Batmanisfake: From all angles
The Adult: You're all horrible
Batmanisfake: Please like you're not hacking into the cameras as we speak, Babs
The Adult: You have no proof👀
_________________________________________________________
Tim’s head felt thick and gooey like one of Alfred’s custards. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s in a fish tank. There’s a sickly Chlorine smell clogging his nostrils; it smells powdery and sterile and reminds him vaguely of aspirin. Tim blinks. His eyes hurt; they feel puffy and sore and hot. His vision is further obscured by a thick layer of fleece blankets Alfred had piled high over him. He shuts his eyes still feeling too overwhelmed by the low light coming from the window.
Tim thinks he hears his window open with a soft click. Tim quiets his breathing. His hearing is too muddled to process anything beyond it. There’s a soft thud of heavy boots in the room; it’s imperceptible and dreamlike the way it reaches his ears that it has him shifting under the covers trying his best to discern the sound. A dozen lighter footsteps follow it and he can sense 6 shapeless bodies hovering over him.
“Should we wake him up?” asks a voice that vaguely sounds like Cass.
There’s a shuffling sound. Leather, he thinks. “Wait, lemme take a picture.”
“Red, why? It’s not like you can blackmail him with pictures of him sleeping.”
“Because, flashlight, I need proof that Timbo sleeps. ”
“Because?”
“Ok, how many times have you seen him asleep?”
“Uh...”
“Exactly!”
Tim hears a laugh that distinctly sounds like Dick. “Does it count if Alfie drugged him?”
“Maybe?” Steph says, shrugging.
“It doesn’t, Brown.”
“Damn it.”
“Does that mean B doesn’t sleep?”
“Nope.”
Maybe if Tim keeps sleeping, they’ll go away on their own. Tim wraps the sheets tightly around himself, hoping the large stack of fleece would be enough to muffle his siblings.
“I’m pretty sure I have dibs on waking him for opening the window for you shits.”
“Red, anyone could have opened that,” Duke laughs, stepping slightly behind Cass, who at the moment was paying more attention to the moving pile of fabric. Maybe if Tim stays really still she’ll turn her attention to something else.
“Cass and Dickface would have just broken it.‘
“I would not!”
“Sorry, Cass, you would.”
“Steph, whose side are you on?”
“Why is no one defending me?” Dick sighs.
“No one cares, Dickface. And Blondie’s clearly playing for the right team-” Steph cackles. “-none of you have any finesse.”
“Not all of us can be drama queens, Todd.”
“You’re like the third to the last person I wanna hear this from.”
“Third? You’re ranking us now? Who gave you the right?”
“Alfred,” Jason deadpans, “And yeah. Bruce and Dick are first and second.”
“Hey!”
“Can it Mr. Pretty Man Down.”
“That was one-”
“What rank am I?”
“uh … fifth.”
“Fifth?!”
“Sorry, Blondie, Cass has you beat with that ballet kick thingy.”
“Ok, yeah I can accept that. What about Babs?”
“What about Babs? The woman can kick my ass six ways to Sunday. ”
Tim’s head throbs all over. There are soft pin pricks pressing on the sole of his left foot; his leg jerks involuntarily. He wants to scream. Tim swears under his breath. A gloved hand pries the covers away from Tim’s face. Tim squints his eyes open only to be greeted by Dick’s kind, but still very punchable, face. Tim takes a long rasp, pinching his features in a mix of annoyance and despair. “Why are you-” Cough! “-here?”
There’s a slight quirk to Dick’s smile.“They wanted to meet (y/n),” Dick explains in a sweeping theatrical motion of his hand across the room directing Tim’s attention to the expressions on his sibling’s expressions which were all a variation of devious scheming.
“How did-” cough. “- you even know-” cough. “-(y/n) was coming?” Tim asks, shooting up from his pile of pillows causing a couple of blankets to topple to the floor to the ground. Tim’s lightheaded. He suddenly feels a shift in his balance, a feeling of vertigo. He nearly topples to the ground, his blood not quite catching up to his movements, when feels hands wrap around his shoulders. “Woah there Baby Bird, slowdown.”
“Answer-” Cough!
“It was Todd.”
“You mutant sperm!”
“Jay, aren’t we all mutant sperm?” Steph laughs, slinging one arm over an irate Damian’s shoulders and another over a fuming Jason’s shoulders. Tim groans, sounding pained. “How much do I need to pay each of you to get all of you to go away?”
“A lifetime of IOUs,” Dick says, casually.
“NO!”
“All of your share in W.E.,” Duke says, laughing. Steph elbows him lightly, also laughing. “You’re shooting prelow there, Slick,” Steph teases. Duke shrugs still grinning. “Gotta keep it realistic, yanno?” Steph and Duke keep bickering.
“Drake, kindly, pay with your life.”
Tim scrunches his nose. “I’m already on my deathbed, you know, dying. What else do you want from me?”
“A more agonizing death.”
Jason grins, tilting his chin. “C’mon, Timbo, we can help with your little impromptu date.” Tim groans, placing his face in his hands. “Please just help me dig my own grave.”
“What would be the fun in that, Timbo?”
“For you or for me?”
“Come on, Tim, it’ll be fine,” Cass says, clearly not believing the words herself. All seven of them dissolve into another round bickering. Damian, Jason, and Steph hellbent on giving Tim an aneurysm. Duke and Cass playing at being neutral; Duke leaning on Tim’s side but laughing way too hard at Steph’s well placed jabs; Cass is only mildly siding with Tim to spite Jason. Why this time? Tim has no clue.
The string of banter is broken up by the echoing the doorbell. Tim’s heart seizes as they all fall silent, enraptured by the odd sound of a doorbell filling the hallowed halls of Wayne Manor. The chiming of bells ends with the creaking of the large oak doors in the front of the manor.
Before Tim’s sluggish brain could even formulate a thought, all of his siblings are all bounding towards the door, bouncing off the walls and flipping over obstacles. Tim scrambles, lagging, after the hoard of vigilantes barrelling towards you. Tim tries to shout after his siblings but his voice is drowned out by raucous laughter and bickering.
You stand at the door, head haloed by the pale afternoon light as the sky catches fire, flecks of snow sparkling in your hair. You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as you sheepishly thank Alfred as he takes your coat.
Tim struggles to breathe an he genuinely doesn’t know if it’s because of his lungs, you, or the fact that of all his siblings, Babs was the one who got there first and Tim genuinely doesn’t know if Babs is there to hold off the gaggle of vigilantes or to scare you off. From the jovial grin wrinkling your features, Tim’s pretty sure Babs just gave you some blackmail material instead of putting you through the ringer- an equally scary outcome. For your part, you don’t look even slightly phased by the fact that Babs is in a wheelchair or even by the way she’s clearly sizing you up. All of this rolls off of you with an easy motion of your shoulders as you answer her questions in the most frustratingly oblique way based off of Babs’s expression. Tim can’t help the curve on his lip as you blatantly dodge another of Babs’s questions with a smile. You spot him, winking, and the tips of Tim’s ears flush.
Your cocky demeanor fades when a gaggle of batbrats crowd you; nervousness creeps into your form, ironing out your posture into something unnatural and defensive. “Is this a bad time?” You ask through a tight lipped smile. Babs glares at them but doesn’t make any effort to hide the satisfaction at your shaken demeanor. “Don’t mind them, Sweetie,” Babs says, patting your back and guiding you away from the gaggle. You shuffle awkwardly, trying to coax your spine back into a more natural curve.
“(Y/n)!” Tim manages between gasps for air. Making a person with non functioning lungs run has to be some sort of human rights violation. His voice is louder than he anticipated. He realizes, but the apprehension in his body flits away when you beam at him-a wide cheeky smile that has his body vibrating with delight. He made you smile like that, Tim thinks, heart swelling almost enough to soften the impact of the next few words. “Hey, Duckie!” you chirp tilting your face in a cute lopsided smile.
“Duckie?” Jason sniggers.
Duke’s face passess from confusion, realization, then amusement in a matter of three seconds.“Duckie? As in ‘quack quack’?” Duke asks, pretending to still be dumbstruck.
“Yes, Duckie, Tommy Terrific,” you say, the lopsided smile curving into a playful grin. The dumb nicknames earn you a loud, surprisingly nonthreatening, approving laugh from Jason who then says “We’ll keep those nicknames in mind” which just drags pained looks from both Tim and Duke. Dick and Damian on the other hand look absolutely delighted.
“(Y/n), tell them about the other nicknames,” Steph says, grinning savagely. Your eyes widen and you wrinkle your nose, mouth twitching from side to side, trying to pretend away the heat rising from your cheeks. “Not on your life, Stephie.”
“Aaaaaw! Not even for lil ol’ me?” Dick pouts, throwing his arms around you. The familiarity of the action has Tim bristling. “Pleeeeeaaase,” Dick whines; a smile hidden in your hair, “not even for Alfred’s cookies?” You make a noise caught between a laugh and a groan. “Hmmmm… maybe? Throw in some candy.”
“Deal.”
Tim blinks. “You’d betray me for sugar?”
“Cus I ain’t getting any while you’re sick,” you cackle, grinning along with Dick who looks way too pleased with the outcome of the conversation. Tim desperately wants to melt into the floor. Looking at all his siblings who are eagerly awaiting for the litany of nicknames, Tim cuts in. “Let’s just go watch that film.”
“What are we watching?” Cass asks, leaning to look over your shoulder, clearly shoving Dick out of the way. Dick does his best to not budge.
“What do you mean ‘we’?”
“We are under a communist regime, Timbo. We’re all watching it together,” Jason says, slinging Tim over his shoulder.
“Have a heart, Drake. We only want to spend family time together,” Damian says, somehow still looking imperious even from where Tim is dangling. A dull ache starts spreading across Tim’s like his skull is being squeezed.
“Hope you guys like Clue,” you say, fishing it out of your cornucopia of unhealthy junk food. “I figured you detectives would like a good mystery.” Dick snorts taking the disc from you and reading over the contents efficiently. “Bet you I can get the ending even before any of you.”
“No, you won’t,” Jason barks, setting off a long winded argument about who the best detective is.
“Didn’t you say you would eat me if I spoiled another mystery movie for you? Are you planning to eat my entire family?” Tim croaks quietly. You scrunch your nose, twitching your mouth four times to the left and four and a half times to the right. “Technically, what I said was ‘I’ll respectfully go back to juvie for cannibalism if you spoil another movie that night’,” you hiss low, trying not to draw attention to your conversation. Unfortunately for you, his siblings have good hearing.
“And this is different how?” Tim asks, this time not bothering to control his volume.
“You’ll never figure out the ending,” You say smiling innocently. Tim rolls his eyes and huffs a ‘we’ll see’. It doesn’t wipe the smile off of your face.
As it turns out, the Wayne Manor theater is less of a theater and more of a bean bag storage closet with a large screen. Jason tosses Tim unceremoniously into one of the random bean bags in front of the couch before gracefully pirouetting into the couch. You chuckle and continue your search for something to put your Bluray in, just now realizing that you should have probably just asked for their Netflix password or something. Alfred appears out of nowhere handing Jason and Cass each a bowl of buttery popcorn and scolding Jason about manhandling his brother in front of a guest. Jason looks unrepentant. No surprises there. With a swat on the back of Jason’s head, Alfred turns to you, gloved hands extended out to you. “I can take that."
“Oh… Uh thanks- Thank you,” you stammer. To your left, Tim snickers and your hand slip, somehow the blanket Babs handed you finds its way to Tim’s face. “Shut up, Ducktective. He’s practically your grandpa and I kinda wanna make a good impression,” you hiss, cheeks warming. Tim coughs, a little dumbfounded. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that you were nervous about this.
Tim checks if his brain is on straight before speaking. “Relax, you haven’t physically assaulted me or any of my family yet so you’re immediately at the top of Alfie’s list.” You open your mouth to speak then curl it into a frown, looking appalled and concerned. Apparently, his brain wasn't on as straight as Tim thought. "Am I going to have to fight your exes? At some point?"
"No!"
"Yes!" Steph says, handing you a red bean bag. Tim scowls at Steph as he watches the color drain from your face. She just shrugs and goes off to annoy Dick.
“Mr. Boddy?” Damian asks incredulously, reading the box summary again. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” you laugh, setting your bean bag next to the one Jason dropped Tim in. Damian rolls his eyes. “This is a stupid movie. Do people really consume this drivel?”
You scrunch your nose but don’t put too much heart into glaring. Thankfully, color is now returning to your face. “The movie hasn’t even started yet!”
“Relax (y/n), the tiny mutant sperm is just playing elitist,” Steph says, plopping next to Jason and eyeing his bowlful of buttery popcorn.
“As long as it isn’t as bad as the Happening-”
“Dude, you live in a city with Poison Ivy. That thing is pretty much a documentary,” Duke says hesitantly taking the spot between Steph and Cass.
"Please, for the love of Alfie, please, talk about something else," Dick whines, plopping a bean bag next to Tim. Jason’s face twists in confusions before his eyes light up and untwists into an expression with amusement. "Is it because of the-" Dick hits him square in the face with a pillow, all the while screeching "Think of the children!"
"Where, Dickface?" Jason ask, prompting Dick to point(jazz hands) at Damian who rolls his eyes. Jason does the same, looking younger than the toughened exterior suggested. "That's a gremlin, Dickface. Not a child."
"He is-"
"SHUSH! The movie is starting!"
You giggle, curling into Tim's side and placing your head in the crook of his neck where you usually like to put it. Tim's insides shiver from the contact and his hands automatically coil around you, pressing his nose into your hair.
"Jeez, her melons are big," Babs says flatly taking another handful of Dick's popcorn from Damian. Cass snorts and Tim feels embarrassment creep into his skin. He flicks his eyes to you, only to find you smiling into his side.
"They're almost as big as Dick's," you chuckle.
"Nah, Jason is bigger," Cass pipes.
You eye Jason openly which makes the large man cross his arms over his chest. "Huh, you're right," you note with more confusion than anything.
"Bruce has moobs too!" Jason protests, red-faced.
"Son, why?"
The chatter falls silent when the figure at the edge of the room settles itself into the large leather recliner in one corner of the room. You squint your eyes to distinguish its features from the rest of the shadows in the room; only to be greeted by the solemn features of Bruce Wayne. Your breath catches and you feel your skin jump twenty feet in the air. Everyone else in the room seems to have about the same reaction even as he pulls a lever to raise the foot rest. You all follow his movements with interest.
“Is Bruce trying to relax?” Duke whispers to Cass who shrugs in response. Steph rolls her eyes, reaching over Duke to try and snatch some popcorn from Jason who just raises his bowl higher. “Shhhhh, Duke, let the B man try to play human,” she says, snatching at the popcorn til the bowl just falls on Jason’s head.
“He’s trying I guess.” This draws a startled chuckle out of you that you try to press in Tim’s neck. The vibrations against his skin has him shivering.
“B, are you ok?” Dick asks. This makes Bruce’s features move in a slightly concerned fashion which in Bruce speak is very concerned. “Yes, why?”
“Ooooh, no reason, old man.” He turns to Babs. “Yeah that’s not Bruce. Five bucks says it’s a robot.” Babs snickers, grabbing a ten from her purse. “Ten says it’s an alien.” You twist to look at them, taking out a twenty. “Twenty says it’s just Mr.Wayne.” Jason sneers at you, taking your money. “You clearly don’t know the old man.”
“Can we please just watch this film in peace?” Bruce groans, running a hand over his face, finally looking more like the long suffering single dad of eight kids that he should be. Babs looks over her shoulder, slinging Bruce an absolutely disbelieving look. “Do you even know your children?”
“Yes, father, have you even watched us bond?” Damian asks, using his free hand to do air quotes for the word ‘bond’ while using the other to try and swipe some popcorn from Cass. It doesn’t work.
“That definitely isn’t Bruce,” Dick hisses, trying to shield his own bowl of popcorn from an irate Damian.
“SHHHHHH! I can’t hear the movie!”
“It’s definitely the butler,” Dick declares. Damian scowls, throwing a pillow at him which Dick catches with ease. “Grayson, the movie has barely started.”
“It’s definitely the butler. It’s gotta be. It’s always the butler.”
“That’s very offensive to Alfred, Dick,” Cass says, grinning. Alfred sniffs poshly in his own recliner. Dick recoils but Jason piles on. “Very classist of you, Dickiebird.”
Duke snorts. “Nah, I think he’s just saying it because Tim Curry was Pennywise the Clown.”
“Why would you trust a clown?”
“Oh my god, why are you guys comparing Alfred to a clown?”
“We are not!”
“This conversation is a trainwreck,” Tim groans into your hair. “Dunno, Tim, it sounds like a success,” you laugh, pressing closer. His eyes flick between you and his siblings. “You planned this.” You look up at him, failing to flatten a smile. “Nope.”
“I say it’s Ms. Scarlett,” Bruce says, rubbing his chin contemplatively.
“You’re just saying that cus she reminds you of Selina,” Tim huff, grinning and you’re half tempted to pinch his cheeks. Bruce cuts him a scathing look that has you shrinking; the grin on Tim’s face just broadens which just makes the playful scowl on Bruce’s face deepen. “Need I remind you who pays for the internet?”
“Alfred?” Tim asks, innocently.
“Careful Tim, B man might actually do it. Hell, he’ll probably do it if he finds out what you did last Thursday.”
“Do you mean the explosion on Fifth?” you ask, turning to Steph. Steph gives you a firm nod; in the corner of your eye, you can see Bruce arching a brow. Tim gapes at you looking absolutely gutted. “What happened to snitches get stitches?” Tim protests.
You shrug, grinning. “Sorry, Duckie, I stand by my cookie dealer. Who do you think sneaks Duke and me cheetos in Western Civilization? I stand by my fellow barbarian.”
“You know Duke?”
“I pay him to-”
“Shhhhh!”
“You guys are talking too!”
“At least, it’s movie related!” Damian hisses.
You throw up your hands with an exaggerated flail. “Fine!”
“I say it’s the shifty looking lady,” Jason declares, reaching over Duke and Steph to try and snatch some popcorn from Cass. You wonder why Jason doesn’t just snatch some from Alfred since he’s closer. You try to ask Tim but he just shakes his head at you. “Ms.Peacock?” Cass asks, shoving Jason’s face away with butter covered fingers. Duke tries to snatch a few kernels in the confusion only to get his hand swatted. “I think he means Mrs. White,” he says, waving his hand. “Yeah that one.”
“It’s the butler! It’s always butler!” Dick protests.
“I will fucking riot if it’s the butler!” Steph shoots back.
“It can’t be the butler.”
“Why not, Dami? He has motive.”
Damian rolls his eyes.“Gordon, why are you siding with Grayson?-” Babs opens her mouth to answer but Damain continues before she can get another syllable out “-nevermind. He doesn’t have as much motive as the rest of them. Besides, does he really look competent enough to hold a gun left alone with a knife?”
Tim raises his chin from your head. “Demon Spawn, your standards for butlers is too high. Alfred is-”
“You say this like you have plenty of references.”
“Oh, Tommy Terrific, Duckie here is a posh bastard,” Jason sneers ruffling Tim’s hair. From the way, some of his hairs stick up you could guess that he still had some butter in his hand. Tim makes a face of disgust; you try your best to help him with his hair. “Jay, you say that but you’re like Mr. I need the correct type of wood for my bookshelves,” Steph laughs. “Just because I’m not a slob like the rest of you walking disasters doesn’t mean I’m posh.”
“Yes, it does. You lived here. Yanno with Alfie,” Dick says, pulling out another pack of snacks he’d managed to snag from your bag. You’re not gonna ask at this point. Tim gives you a look which roughly translates to ‘I am very sorry for my trainwreck of a family’. You snort at him before turning towards his sibling. “I mean look at Cass. She’s still feral.” If looks could kill, the look Cass give you would melt your bones. Thankfully, Damian opens his mouth. “They’re all feral.” You have a sense that you’ve also been insulted. You hear Babs to your right laugh derisively. “You say this like you’re any less feral than the rest of us.”
“I am-”
“Are any of you still watching the movie?” Bruce asks and for the second time that night, your body tries to divorce your soul. You had almost forgotten that yes, you are watching Clue with the fucking Batman. You shift in your seat suddenly feeling a twinge of nervousness. Before the discomfort could nestle in you, Jason speaks up. “No, Bruce, we’re just watching Cass vacuum the popcorn into her stomach. What do you think?”
“You guys didn’t ask,” Cass says through a mouthful of popcorn knowing full well that’s a lie.
“How can any of you be watching it? All you’ve done is talk over the dialogue.” You almost laugh at how exasperated he sounds. Beside you, Tim just snickers and shakes his head.
Damian just looks at his father from his bean bag next to Dick. “Father, we can talk and listen. ” Dick, like the mature adult that he is, slaps his knee laughing. “I don’t think B is capable of that.”
“PREACH” was followed by a chorus of AMENs.
"Alfred, what have I done to turn my children against me?" Bruce asks, tiredly leaning back into his recliner.
"Master Bruce, how would you like me to list it?"
"Alfred not you too," Bruce groans, putting his hands in his eyes.
"Yeah! Alfie's on our side!" Jason cheers.
"Quite."
"Alfie is always the sensible one," Cass chuckles sensibly between bites. You hear varying noises of agreement and Bruce ages from suave debonair to extremely tired single dad.
"I assume Alfred is actually the boss here."
"Yeah, Bruce is actually on the bottom of the food chain here," Tim says. You tilt your head in contemplation. "Yanno that makes Batman so much less scary."
"B-man's just a giant softie," Steph chirps, slinging her legs over Duke and Cass's laps narrowly missing the nearly empty bowl of popcorn.
Dick turns to you winking. "Yeah, just give him the puppy eyes and he'll get you anything you want in 2 seconds flat."
"Dick…"
"It's true!"
"Even a carnival?"
"Can we please just watch the movie?" Bruce says, in an almost pleading voice.
"I wouldn't hold my breath, old man," Jason chuckles, earning a glare from both Bruce and Damian. "It's not like you know how to shut up, Todd."
"Sorry, I don’t speak gremlin."
"That's bull Jay!"
"MOVIE IS STILL GOING ON! SHUT YOUR CAKE HOLES."
“I TOLD YOU IT WAS THE BUTLER.”
“Yes, yes, it has been publiced and noted, Birdie,” you giggle into Tim’s side, shaking your head. He wraps his arm around you, pressing a kiss into your hair, winking at you. “Does it count?” Tim asks over his shoulder. A look passes between him and Cass. “I don’t think so,” she says grinning.
“It so does! It’s one of the endings,” Dick protests vehemently. Jason’s mouth flattens then curls into a grin. “By that logic, the old man is right too.”
Dick thinks for a moment, tapping his chin. “Well, we can’t have that.”
“Why not?” Bruce protests.
"I'm still sticking with the butler. I'm sorry this is the only logical conclusion."
"He wasn't even an actual butler you butter brain!" Steph protests, throwing a pillow at Dick.
"I'm sorry but can we address why you're all mounting a mutiny against me?"
"Teenage rebellion!" Dick answers.
"Chum, you're not even a teenager."
"Father's right. At most, Grayson is five years old," Damian pipes from beside Dick seemingly unaffected by his brother's pout.
"Alfred, you're going to have to check my blood pressure before patrol."
"Quite, sir."
“They’re all so dramatic just like you said,” you whisper into Tim’s shoulder.
“I AM NOT DRAMATIC”
“Ah, yes, because the pretty man pose is so pragmatic.” Damian deadpan.
"That was one time, you assholes!"
"Hey, what else did Timmy say?"
"Well he- Oh wait!" You fish out your phone and Tim snacthes it away faster than you can blink. "No-" cough "-you don't." Cough.
Jason snatches it from him, snickering at the photo of Tim kissing you on the cheek. You're pretty sure Tim has a matching photo with you kissing him on the cheek. "Nice lockscreen, (y/n)."
"Oh, you should see the homescreen!"
"No. Please don't. You might need eye bleach."
"Relax Space Cadet, it’s not that one."
"Ohohoho, what didn't you want big daddy bats to see? Haaa, Timbo?"
Tim turns every shade of red before settling on fire hydrant red. "None of your business!"
Bruce clears his throat, looking at a stupidly expensive watch. “It’s time.” Dick springs up, stretching and showing off. “Is it really that time already?” Steph asks in almost a whine. Duke and Cass take the opportunity to shove her off and sadly, she lands with a loud thud and a mangled curse. You wince but laugh unsympathetically which simply earns you a face full of dust covered popcorn. You frown at her and she grins at you as Jason hauls her up by her hoodie. “C’mon Blondie. Let’s leave the love birds alone.”
“It’s not like they’re actually gonna be alone. Alfie’s here. So is Babs.”
“I’m going back to my place. You people give me a headache.”
“You say that like you weren’t having fun,” Dick teases, walking after her.
“I’ll be down in the cave if you need me,” Alfred says waving at both of you. “Will do, Alf,” Tim yawns, nuzzling into your hair.
Cass pops her head back in. “Make sure Tim doesn’t do anything stupid,” She calls back. You grin, bright and wolfish. “Don’t worry! He can’t do me while he’s sick.” You hear Bruce choke in the hall and you just know that you’ll mentally kick yourself for that later. Luckily for you, Tim physically kicks you now. “What the hell?!” Cough. “Sorry, got caught in the moment.” You huff, trying to look a little sorry. Tim just glares more. “You’re not even close to sorry.”
“Ok. Yeah.”
“I have no idea why I love you sometimes.”
“My amazing personality?”
“Sure.”
“Love you too, Tim,” you chirp, kissing him. Tim’s lips feel hot after the quick peck and he pulls you closer. “I love you but I was pretty sure my family was gonna eat you alive.”
“They would have done it,” you hum, pausing before adding, “respectfully.”
Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red
#tim drake imagines#tim drake x reader#Tim Drake#batfamily x reader#batfam#reader insert#dc fanfiction#dc reader insert#bruce wayne#Alfred Pennyworth#dick grayson#Damian Wayne#Jason Todd#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#duke thomas#batman#batfamily headcanon#batboys
169 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
karenfordonte
Caring For Donte
reaperren
Boran
star--wolf
Bluehost Review 2022
universitariodeprimido-blog
Sem título
aascensionn
Lee