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on-leatheredwings · 2 months

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Sleepover

Yandere! Damian Wayne x (Fem!) Reader > romantic > summary: During a sleepover, Damian makes his first foray into infatuation. > word count: 1605 > [ a/n: i just love writing from the yandere’s point of view! Damian is 19 or college-age here. honestly not much plot, just musings~ i will try to write from the Darling’s POV next time hehe.]

This must be love.

“Wow, Damian… I’ve never noticed but your nails are so pretty,” you compliment, satisfied with the boy’s upkeep. Damian feels his heart thrumming against his ribcage. You are holding his hand.

Not for the first time either, but the thrill never fades.

If this had occurred a year ago, before Damian learned of how casual (generous, even!) you were physical affection, he might have dumbly stated, “You’re holding my hand.” Instead, he simply thinks it, on loop, in one long string.

You’re holding my hand. You’re holding my hand. You’re holding my hand.

Unbeknownst to all this, you simply paint his forefinger with a stripe of green so dark it looks black.

“If we’re going to do this, it’ll be by my rules,” he had said.

In reality, if you needled him any harder, he would’ve accepted pink nails with glitter on them. Who cares? There wasn’t anyone who dared to make fun of him at school. Not to mention, it’d be obvious to everyone that you painted them. And at night… well, Robin wears gloves.

“Hn. How so?” Damian asks with feigned coolness. Mainly because he wants to hear you praise him. In your hushed, awed voice. When he dreams, you often sound like that. (And he quickly pushes that thought away.)

You look at him pointedly, grinning. Oh, he’s not so slick. You acquiesce to his whims anyway.

“Your cuticles are impeccable and your nails are finely trimmed… I’m impressed. Don’t you do martial arts, too? Crazy they aren’t more dinged up.”

Martial arts. That was supposed to explain his abnormal strength and fighting capability, the one time you saw him nearly break a man’s wrist for trying to pickpocket you.

You accepted the excuse with only a little suspicion.

“It’s simple grooming.”

A catlike grin forms on your face. “Hm~ I don’t knowwww… Seems like you may be trying to catch the eye of a girl – you know, girls look at stuff like that.”

Damian frowns.

He’s infatuated but not delusional. He’s aware this ‘sleepover’ is pretty platonic on your end. After nails, it’ll be skin care. Maybe you’ll even do your makeup and take goofy pictures with him. You’ll laugh and platonically huddle against him during a movie. You may doze off on his shoulder while he’ll be committing your every dewy, moisturized pore to memory.

Because of Damian’s (self-admitted) social awkwardness with your peers, you think that gives you some sort of elder sibling-esque edge on him. You are the social butterfly, leading a naive, but well-meaning social pariah through the perils of young adult life. You don’t know you are so much more naive than he is, and he adores that.

Rather than addressing the question, he snorts. “When are you going to turn on the movie?”

You hum, completing his nail’s first coat. “Oh yeah, that’s right!” You grab the remote and press play. You continue painting, gingerly admiring his long, golden brown digits. Damian preens at the attention.

As the movie plays, you pause often to look up and gape at the screen. It’s a horror flick, and boasts an abundance of cartoonish gore. While a bit more sensational than something he’d put on, he likes your dark taste. An annoying teenager gets their head hacked off with a chainsaw. You laugh and Damian feels his heart sing.

There’s a chime that rings through Wayne Manor, and he has to bite back a groan.

“Pizza’s here!” you cheer. You begin to get up when Damian whips out his card in an instant.

“I’ll pay.” To his delight, you gape in surprise, cheeks warming.

“Oh… Thanks, Damian!” You never quite get used to him paying for things, but you at least know by now not to argue. You grab his credit card and – thank God – your fingers brush against each other. It sends the most pleasant trill down his spine. “Since you’re paying, I’ll go bring it! I won’t be long.”

A corner of his lips quirk. “I’ll be pleasantly surprised if it gets back to this room at all.” You stick out your tongue on the way out.

As soon as he hears your footsteps disappear down the hall – such clumsy, loud steps – Damian’s attention falls to the messenger bag you threw to the ground of his bedroom. He knows your diary is in there. (In his mind, he can hear you protest, It’s a journal!)

He’ll be quick. He flips open to a random page, and he already is laughing at your writing style. There’s little care for capitalizing letters and full of what you explained are “emoticons”, despite being handwritten. He flips to today’s entry, half-finished.

February 01.

there’s a guy in class who’s pretty cute… one may even say HOT xP

Damian’s jaw tightens. He knows exactly who you’re talking about, and he won’t allow that neanderthal anywhere near you. At least, not again. Yesterday, you told him that your crush had smiled at you. Brushed fingers with you when passing papers. In the only class you have without Damian.

(Also, “your crush,” he scoffs. What a juvenile concept. You and Damian share something much deeper. His feelings for you are not so trivial.)

The semester is still young. Damian can pull any string to land himself in your anthropology class.

The rest of your entry for today (and the past days prior) isn’t anything notable except for when he’s mentioned.

stressful day, but at least i have tonight with damian to cheer me up. he’s seriously the best …. i should tell him more often !!! (but it’d give him an even bigger head)

He doesn’t even attempt to stop the smile splitting his face.

Damian’s keen hearing catches you striking up a conversation with Alfred in the kitchen. Despite your promise, he knows you will, indeed, take long. You love talking to everyone, even in passing. It’s an admirable quality, and one he envies.

He unlocks your phone and rifles through some messages of yours. He uses his own phone for documentation purposes. What else is there to do… He spies your jacket on his bed.

There is a shameful thought and Damian’s heart skips a beat. It is… frankly, it’s humiliating as a concept. Yet he’s enticed. It’s your jacket, after all. He brings it to his face delicately and inhales, almost shyly. Once he catches the familiar scent of your body wash, however, he allows himself to breathe it in. After being lost in it for a few seconds, he rips it away.

Only to see his father standing in his doorframe.

He knows what this looks like. Damian knows what this looks like. After years of working with the man, Damian can hear his thoughts as if they were his own, as they happen.

Damian just smelled your clothes. Even if it was investigative in nature, he could’ve retrieved a sample some other way. Someone’s personal journal is open on the floor. A phone that he knows is not Damian’s is unlocked and displaying text messages. All these things are splayed out in a circle around him. It’s uncharacteristically messy of him, as well. Damian’s own phone is actively on his camera. Was he taking pictures? And most notable is the absence of you.

In summary? Damian must have some interest in you. And by this sloppy job, it’s quite emotionally charged. And at his age, it’s likely romantic.

Damian’s skin rises to what feels like a boiling heat. What is Father going to say? He can’t stop him – he can’t. Damian doesn’t even want to talk about it, let alone be reprimanded. A feral need to escape bubbles underneath his skin. Despite the panic, he channels years of League training and hardens himself.

Bruce watches his son’s expression morph from dazed, to fearful, to steel, in real time. From Damian’s seat on the floor he offers his father only silent defiance. Bruce knows his son, his darker needs that stem from his cruel childhood. And perhaps he should’ve expected this to happen someday. Bruce exhales, eyes closing. When they reopen, his slate-grey eyes are firm and hard.

“No one gets hurt.”

And by that, Bruce means no one dies. Because Bruce and Damian are Batman and Robin – they’re all in the business of hurting people. People who deserve it, yes, but it’s still hurt. Pain.

Damian feels immense relief. He wouldn’t have killed his father – he’s not that boy anymore. But a life without you seems similarly unbearable. Damian feels… shaken. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done. He also feels grateful, that it didn’t turn out any other way.

His eyes drop to the jacket he holds in a fist.

“... Yes. Thank you, Father.” Bruce’s gaze lingers, but he leaves wordlessly.

This encounter reminds Damian of who he is. He is a detective, vigilante, assassin, and creature of stealth. He can’t be this careless, even if he knows you won’t notice.

Damian returns your belongings to their place, exactly how you left it. Diary back in your bag, jacket to where you were lounging, your phone underneath a pillow, because you carelessly tossed it aside. You’ll inevitably begin to look for it and he’ll grin once he places it in your hand.

You finally return to his room, two pizza boxes of deluxe cheese (for him) and pepperoni (for you) in your arms. You laugh sheepishly.

“Sorry for the wait, Dami.” His heart skitters at the nickname.

“It’s fine.” Your eyes glitter with excitement and optimism and purity. He finds it hard to look away, you raining down a gaze like that upon him.

“I was waiting for you.”

#yandere damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #yandere batfam #damian wayne #yandere damian wayne x reader #wish this was better but idc #its fun to just write u know :)#mine

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just-jordie-things · 5 months

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the subject of every photo - fushiguro megumi

word count: 5,555 (i'm so proud of that) warnings: swearin' summary: a photoshoot at the pumpkin patch isn't his ideal day, but at least megumi gets to spend time with you. and maybe he'll take a few pictures anyway. (a/n): really delayed pumpkin themed fic with the softest boy but i needed to write this ok a greater power called upon me to do it

___

“It’ll be fun!” Nobara had claimed, although her tone was more threatening than bubbly. “It’s just a little photoshoot at a pumpkin patch, why so gloomy about it?”

And it wasn’t that Megumi was gloomy about it, because he wasn’t. It would be immature to pout about a simple hangout among friends. The thing was… he just didn’t care for the whole pumpkin patch thing that really seemed to take off on instagram and tiktok these last few years.

He hadn’t carved a pumpkin since he was just a tot, and even then he’d only done it to satisfy Gojo’s bonkers need to participate in every holiday tradition. He never particularly liked scooping the guts and seeds out, and as a kid wasn’t decent enough with a blade to carve a face that actually looked interesting. Not to mention, it was always chilly in late October, making it insufferable to wander around outside solely to pick out a big orange vegetable.

Really, if he wanted a pumpkin that bad, he would’ve picked out a discount one from the grocery store. But really, he didn’t want a pumpkin.

Nonetheless, Nobara had bought four disposable cameras— which he didn’t know were even still a thing— told everyone to wear their cutest, coziest outfit, and pretty much demanded they all go spend the afternoon at one of the more popular farms in town. As with most plans, Megumi begrudgingly agreed.

Even under three layers— his coat, his sweater, and the long sleeved tee he wore underneath them both— the crisp air still pricked at his skin and left goosebumps in it’s wake. It was hard to enjoy being out here when he was fighting the urge to shiver.

“It’s pretty cold for this, huh?”

Megumi wipes away the resting bitch face he’d been making, opting instead for as much neutrality as he could muster. He turns to (y/n), only to find her peering up at him from behind her little plastic camera. His brows wrinkle.

“Don’t take a picture of me at that angle”

He puts his hand over the lens and pushes it away before she could even think about snapping the photo, and she chuckles a bit at his boyish antics. He almost cracks a smile when she’s peeking up at him with her cheeks tinged pink from the cold. He squashes it before his lip could curl too far.

“Well what side do you prefer then?” She teases, shifting around to stand before him and raising her shitty little camera again. “Full portrait? Or perhaps a side profile?”

Megumi rolls his eyes, but when he starts to walk away, she’s quick to follow. He doesn’t dislike her company.

Nobara is off farther in the field, ordering Yuuji to pick up as many pumpkins as he can for the perfect picture. It was only a matter of time before she came over and started barking at the two of them to make the perfect poses as well.

“So why do you hate pumpkin patches?” (y/n) breaks their silence, but when he turns to her again, she’s fixing her camera on a sparrow pecking away at a less than ripe pumpkin.

“I don’t hate pumpkin patches,” He replies, but even he has to admit the dryness in his voice makes it seem a bit unbelievable. “It’s just…” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but he’s quick to straighten his gaze when he finds her full attention on him now. “Cold” He finishes, lamely, but it’s not untrue.

He fiddles with the plastic camera in his hands.

“Yeah,” (y/n) agrees from beside him. “Would’ve been nice to do this a few weeks ago, when it was still sunny”

Megumi nods back at her, unsure of what else to say.

He hoped that they weren’t doomed to only speak about the weather today. However that meant he’d probably have to put the effort in to change the subject. His palms began to sweat.

It was their day off, so he didn’t want to strike up a conversation about work, and preferably he’d like to avoid the subject of sorcery altogether. So that narrowed down the options by a lot.

He knew that like him, she liked to read. But she was more into the fantasy stuff, and the only book off the top of his head he could make conversation about was The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe and he was fairly certain that wasn’t currently on her shelf.

Was it always this hard or was he just overthinking it?

“Wait, stay right there!”

Before he can suck it up and ask how her most recent assignment went, (y/n’s) throwing her arms up at him to make him freeze in place. Megumi startles at the sudden movement and holler, but he listens and stays put while she backs up a few steps.

“The sun is peeking out,” She explains, before steadying her camera in front of her face. “The lighting is great” She says with a grin, and then without warning, she snaps the photo.

Megumi wants to complain, he didn’t even have time to smile or pose or anything. When that picture got printed, he’d just be a guy standing there, probably with a resting bitch face. Nobara wouldn’t be happy.

But (y/n’s) still grinning as she lowers the camera.

“Too bad we gotta wait so long to see ‘em,” She says as she heads back towards him. “It’d be nice to—”

“Stop moving”

He’s more blunt than she is, already lifting his camera and peeking through the small lens. (y/n) gets the hint and retraces her steps to fit properly in the frame.

“Better?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically before posing with a bright smile.

Megumi snaps the photo without warning, although he’s sure that this one will turn out much better than the one she’d taken of him. For one, she’s smiling, but he’s also certain that she’s much more photogenic than he is.

She’s at his side again as they wander around the patch, fiddling to fit the camera into the pocket of her coat. It takes him a few minutes to find his courage again, but eventually Megumi clears his throat and tries to spark conversation.

“Gojo used to take a million pictures of me and Tsumiki”

That seems to be exactly the right thing to say, because (y/n’s) entire demeanor lights up as she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Really?” She laughs softly at the mental picture. “Did he keep, like, photo albums and stuff?”

“Oh yeah,” Megumi snorted, recalling the rows of photo books on the living room bookshelf when he was young. “Dozens, at least. It was like he couldn’t commit a thing to memory, always had to document everything”

When he was young, it was obnoxious to always have a camera shoved in his face. Now though, he wonders if the crazy bastard still had those albums.

“That’s sweet,” (y/n) muses, wandering off a bit to check out a display of gourds, all varying in shapes and colors. “I bet there’s tons of embarrassing ones of you, too” She teases.

Megumi doesn’t give her an answer, instead silently watching as she picks up a large green vegetable with a curly top. She holds the long end in her hand, before turning to face Megumi with the plump end out, holding it like it was a very deformed gun.

He rolls his eyes at the joke, but just as she looks away, he snaps a photo.

(y/n) seems to not even notice, setting the gourd back on the display and turning back to Megumi to continue their conversation.

“Was he a scrapbook mom?”

He chuckles, and he wants to deny it, but he can’t. Even if he tried he thinks she’d see through it with how he smiles with all of his teeth. She’s laughing before he even explains.

“He made one scrapbook, ever,” He tells her. “And you have to swear to never tell them this,” He adds quickly. (y/n) doesn’t have to ask to know who he means, and she simply drags her thumb and forefinger over her lips as if to zip them up. “It took him weeks. I think the kitchen table was covered in all of his crafts for a solid month”

“You’re kidding!” She laughs louder, loving the image of her mentor hunched over a table while he glued down photos and ribbon to pretty sheets of paper.

“I wish I was. I think it’s why he only ever made one,” Megumi shrugged. “But it’s… a lot. Every sheet was three dimensional. The spine of the scrapbook was stretched so wide the thing couldn’t even sit flat”

He knows that all of the pictures in that book would be embarrassing now. Gojo liked to document every first— first day of school, first science project, first A+, along with more ridiculous milestones, like when Megumi chopped all of his hair off in the fifth grade and looked ridiculous. If he remembered correctly, Gojo glued that hair in the book too, as if it were his baby hairs. That scrapbook really should be burned, but a part of him wishes he could show her now, just to prove how messy it really is.

“I’d do anything to get my hands on it,” (y/n) sighed, almost as if she could read his mind. “My parents did some stuff like that, but they certainly weren’t obsessive”

“Obsession is all he knows” Megumi mumbles, and he doesn’t mean to be funny, but she laughs, and it makes his chest feel warm.

“I still think it’s sweet,” She assures him, and then she stops in their slow and aimless walk, kneeling down to tie the shoelaces on her boot. Megumi waits beside her. He cared much more for her company than he did seeing the pumpkin patch. “He probably just wanted to save lots of memories of you guys when you were little. All parents say it goes by fast”

She goes to tie the other boot, and Megumi can only stand there in soft surprise. Sure, deep down he always considered Gojo his parent, because he simply just was. But no one else referred to their relationship that way, the others always called him teacher or mentor. But (y/n) must’ve understood that it was more than that.

He’s pulling his camera out again and stealing another quick picture while she was still focused on her shoes.

When she stands, he’s got the camera tucked back into his pocket and an innocent look on his face.

“Want to take a picture over there?” She asks, pointing to the tower of hay bales set up mostly for photos. Originally it was for children to climb and play on, but it’s purpose was far more often served as a posing station.

Megumi simply nods, and follows her as she races over the tower. It shouldn’t have surprised him when she started climbing the thing right away. Surely Nobara had been over here earlier, striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other on the stack of hay, but not (y/n), who was almost to the top.

“You’re not gonna fall, right?” Megumi asks unsurely as she’s grabbing at the highest bale.

“I’m a trained athlete!” She shrieks back, clearly offended.

“I’m more worried about you destroying the play area” Megumi retorted, his lip curling upwards against his will. He can’t help but take a picture before she’s settled. Her hair’s a mess and her limbs are everywhere as she tries to steady herself on the wobbling tower, but it’s a perfect picture nonetheless.

“This is great!” She shouts back at him, before stretching her hands above her head. “Take my photo like this!”

It’s silly, it’s childish, but Megumi’s laughing to himself as he snaps a couple.

Somehow she manages to climb down without toppling the entire thing, and they quickly make their way across the pumpkin patch before an employee could scold them for being grown adults playing on the children’s setup.

Megumi finds it easier to talk with her the longer they walk around, aimlessly eyeing pumpkins without committing to picking any out, taking photos here and there, but mostly they just wander around and talk. Yuji and Nobara seem so wrapped up in the full on photoshoot they were having with each other that it could seem like they’d completely forgotten the other pair, but Megumi didn’t mind one bit.

Hang outs never turned out like this. Nobara tended to cling to (y/n) like a lifeline. She was always dragging her off to the next boutique on the strip or game in the arcade or exhibit at the museum— wherever they went, it seemed as soon as Megumi would get a minute of alone time with her, Nobara would steal her away. It was deflating, but he couldn’t be mad, they were best friends after all.

Today was like a gloomy day miracle. He almost felt spoiled having the last half hour with her all to himself. All of her laughter and smiles were only for him. It warmed up his chilled hands until soon, even the breeze wouldn’t make him shiver.

(y/n) didn’t appear to have the same effect, shaking like a leaf every time the wind picked up. She always shrank into the collar of her coat and shoved her hands into her pockets, and after a few times, Megumi couldn’t stand to see her freezing.

“Let’s go inside for a bit,” He nodded his head towards the small shop. (y/n) pouted back at him, before glancing around the pumpkin patch, clearly looking for their friends. “They won’t be upset that we went inside because we’re cold,” Megumi chuckles to himself, before gently pushing his hand against the small of her back so that he’d follow her. “I’ll text Itadori” He adds for good measure.

After a moment of hesitation she agreed and walked along with him, but just slow enough that he left his hand on her lower back. Just because it was nice to be so close to him.

Stepping into the shop was an instant rush of fresh warm air, and she finally felt like she could stretch her fingers. There was a small bakery inside with only a couple of tables, but without anyone else inside it was perfectly quaint to warm up in.

“I’m going to order a hot chocolate, do you want anything?”

The offer was sweet, but she’s already making her way to the counter, set on a mission as soon as the alluring smell of apples and cinnamon wafted past her nose.

“I could go for a coffee” Megumi hummed as he followed.

He’s ordering for the both of them as soon as a clerk arrives behind the counter, two drinks along with the enormous bear claw in the glass case that (y/n) hadn’t torn her eyes away from since stepping up to the counter. She tries to fight him when he pulls out his wallet but he’s faster at tapping his card to the reader than she is at hitting him.

Even once they sit down with their drinks and the pastry that takes up most of the table space between them, she argues with him about the payment, and all he can do is shake his head— and maybe smile to himself just a little bit. After realizing arguing is futile, she decides that as long as he eats some of the bear claw, she can forgive him.

And they continue to chat, about dumb things, about nothing, about everything. Megumi learns all about the book series that she is reading, along with her plans for getting promoted faster, and that her dream pet is a sugar glider.

“That’s ridiculous,” He mumbles through a mouthful of almond paste and cinnamon. “When would you ever have the time to take care of something like that?”

“That’s why it’s a dream pet, dummy,” (y/n) rolls her eyes at him. “Doesn’t have to be realistic. Don’t you have a dream pet?”

“I kinda already have a lot of pets”

“Oh, right,” She laughs to herself, and he thinks he can see a hint of a blush dusting over her cheeks. Was she embarrassed? He wasn’t sure exactly. But it was really cute. “Well if there’s ever a sugar glider shikigami, please summon it for me” She tells him in all seriousness, and Megumi bites his tongue as he agrees to the condition immediately.

He pulls out his camera for the tenth time that day and rests his elbows on the table as he brings it to his face. (y/n’s) eyes widen before she’s covering half her face with one hand.

“Are you taking a picture of me right now?” She hisses anxiously, before shaking her head at him.

“Duh” He mutters out as he tilts forward and back, trying to find just the right angle of lighting.

“I’m eating—”

“So? Not like you have food on your face. Hush. Go back to eating or something”

“I am not letting you take a picture of me while I eat”

“Alright then just sit there then”

She’s grabbing her paper cup of hot cocoa to use as a shield, but it’s too late. Megumi clicks the button and she can hear the soft whirring coming from inside the camera.

The lens cuts to black and Megumi pulls the camera away, eyeing the little roll of numbers next to the lens.

“I’m out already,” He says, tossing it onto the table. “Guess I win”

(y/n) laughs to herself.

“I didn’t know this was a competition,” She takes a sip of her warm beverage before setting it back down. “But I can’t believe you finished before me”

“How many do you have left?”

Curiously, (y/n) pulls the camera out of her pocket and eyes the tape with the amount of film left. She frowns as she looks back up at him.

“Just one,” She answers, and her frown tilts into a small, soft smile before she asks, “Do you want to take one together?”

___

Greedily, Nobara snatches the stack of freshly printed photos out of Megumi’s hands. (y/n) and Yuji are too busy sharing theirs with each other, and Nobara had been dying to know what photos Megumi and (y/n) had taken on their last outing. By the time the group had met up and gone home, their cameras were already full, and she knew she hadn’t been the subject of a single one of them.

“I swear Fushiguro if these are all dumb pictures of pumpkins, I’ll—”

But her threat falls short after sliding through the first three pictures.

The first was (y/n) on the path, just standing and smiling. It wasn’t special, there wasn’t even a pumpkin in the background, but it was cute.

The second was a picture of her crouched down and tying her shoe. Her face wasn’t even in the picture, her hair was hanging in front of it, but if you squinted you could barely make out the tip of her nose.

Then the third was another candid, where she was pretending to hold a gourd like a gun.

“What the—?”

Nobara flips through to the next one in the stack, and yet again there’s a candid of her climbing up the side of a hay bale tower. At least that one captured her smile. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see the fifth one in the stack was also of (y/n), this time sitting on top of the haystack victoriously

“You’ve got to be kidding me, dude”

“Okay give them back—!” Megumi tries to grab the stack of pictures from Nobara before she could keep being nosey, but she deflects fast, swiveling to turn away from him and keep skipping through the photos.

He shouldn’t have let her get her hands on them to begin with, but it was too late now. If he caused too big of a scene, Yuji and (y/n) would notice. He didn’t exactly want all of his pictures on display.

So Nobara kept flipping.

One was of her lifting up the tiniest of pumpkins— definitely the runt of the whole patch. It fit in the palm of her hand but she seemed delighted by it.

The next few were just of her walking around, nothing too exciting in the frame. Just the occasional pumpkin in the background.

There was a decent one taken from inside the shop. (y/n) was still in the frame but her back was turned as she eyed the glass case of sweets. Nobara could almost let Megumi off the hook for that one. Almost.

And then the last photo was of her laughing, the blurry image of a paper cup waving in the space beside her face. Her eyes are on the camera, so she must’ve known he was taking that picture, but judging by the surprise in her expression, it was easy to conclude she was trying to hide behind that cup.

Once she’d ogled every picture, Nobara finally turned back to Megumi. Her brows twitched and furrowed, lips parted in shock, not a single word spoken as she handed the stack back to him. It’s practically shoved towards him, but he doesn’t complain, just snatches them back as fast as he can.

He wants to find a way to quickly and discreetly ask her to keep this to herself, but before he can find the words, she’s gawking at him again.

“Every single one?” Nobara asks in a mutter.

“We hung out the whole time, okay? It's not like—” Megumi tries to defend himself, but it’s no use. Nobara’s already speaking over him again.

“It’s almost pathetic, dude. Just ask her out like a normal person”

His brows almost raise to his hairline in shock. Here he thought she was about to call him out for being a creep or something. But no, her disgust only lied in his pathetic pining and lack of action. Maybe he should have assumed that already.

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Nobara’s marching over to Yuji and demanding to see his photos as well. Megumi’s left reeling from the whole interaction, the humiliation still lingering in his gut.

The feeling remains as (y/n) makes her way to him, her own fresh stack of photos in her hands. There’s a nervous sort of smile on her face as she glances back at Yuji and Nobara, double checking that they were out of earshot.

“They took that pretty seriously, huh?” Her voice was still low, careful not to draw the attention of their rambunctious friends. “Yuji takes great photos, don’t get me wrong. But I think she should pay him for his time”

There’s some relief in his chest when he cracks a smile, a small laugh coming out. He could only imagine the quality of Nobara and Yuji’s photos, certainly prepped for instagram.

“I bet she still puts filters over all of them” He mutters back, and (y/n) stifles a giggle behind her hand, but nods her head in agreement.

“Can we leave now or what?” Nobara calls out, already dragging Yuji by the arm to leave the store. “I want to get boba before home”

“Boba sounds good,” (y/n) agrees softly. “Let’s go”

As the red head continued to drag her friend despite him arguing that he was an adult who could walk by himself, she turned and aggressively whispered something to him. After her obvious threatening, she glances back at (y/n) and Megumi, which Yuji promptly follows her pointed glance. Suddenly after that he was upright and speed walking along with her.

(y/n) and Megumi share a baffled look as their friends so blatantly ditch them, but they don’t exactly pick up the pace to follow.

“So, did you get good photos?” Megumi asks, tucking his own away in his pocket. Foolishly, he hoped if they were out of sight she wouldn’t ask him about them.

“Oh,” (y/n) chuckles nervously, holding her stack of pictures in both hands. She tilts them towards herself so he can’t see, and Megumi raises a brow at the secrecy. “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually” She says sheepishly.

Her cheeks flood with color, and Megumi can’t help the curious grin that begins to stretch across his face.

“Embarrassing?” He repeats, sounding horrifically hopeful. (y/n) sighs, and sticks her arm out, handing him the stack. He’s quick to take them and start flipping through, eyeing her anxious demeanor in his peripheral vision.

“Yuji’s probably going to tell you anyway. But… they’re sort of all..”

His steps slow further after quickly sliding through the bunch of pictures.

The first was at the entrance of the pumpkin patch, with the cute sign with the family name painted on it, and just under it was him. He wasn’t paying attention, and quite frankly he looked rather bored standing there. She must’ve taken it while he was still pouting about having to go.

The next photo was of the sparrow poking at the rotted pumpkin, and he had to admit the way she captured it actually was sort of cute.

The third was the photo Megumi dreaded seeing. He recognized it as soon as he saw himself standing on the thin path of dirt. He grimaced as he looked closer to see just how bad it was. But to his surprise, he wasn’t scowling like he thought he’d been. He was actually smiling.

Which was odd… he certainly didn’t remember smiling for that picture. He clearly remembered being upset because he hadn’t tried to look nice for her picture at all.

He glances at (y/n) to gauge her reaction so far, but she was holding her expression at a neutral state, waiting for him to react first.

So Megumi goes back to the photos, and flips to the next one. Which was… also him. It wasn’t anything special, just him standing there, but he was smiling a little bit in that one, too.

When the following is also a candid of him with that dumb little smile, he glances over at (y/n) again, raising a brow at her in silent question.

She’s a tough one to crack, but the corner of her lips gives her away as she tries to bite back a smile. His own smile is unable to be hidden as he flips through a few more photos.

And to his shock and delight, they’re all him. Him while he was picking up that big pumpkin she dared him to, him while he was drinking his coffee and not paying attention, him just standing and doing nothing in particular, but for whatever reason, she’d used up all her film on capturing it.

His favorite is the one of the both of them. She’d given him the camera so he could stretch his arm out and snap the photo selfie style. They’re sitting at the small table, two paper cups and the enormous bear claw between them, but pushed aside as (y/n) leans across the tabletop in order to better center herself. She’s grinning from ear to ear, her chin set in one hand while the other holds up a peace sign. Megumi’s smile isn’t as wide but nevertheless it’s genuine, and anyone looking at the picture would know. It’s a great picture of the two of them, and he thinks it’s probably the first, too.

Megumi hadn’t realized he’d gone through the whole stack till he flips to the next one and is met with the first photo, but once he does, (y/n’s) quick to reach out and take them back. She doesn’t snatch them as aggressively as Nobara had, she handles them gently, careful not to leave an ugly smudge or crease.

Megumi watches with eager intrigue as she tucks the edges together neatly, making the stack smooth in her hands.

“Sorry if that’s creepy— is that creepy?” She turns to him suddenly, full of worry that she’d crossed a line, but Megumi just chuckles, and shakes his head at her.

“Not creepy” He muses, his soft smile remaining as he dips his hand into his pocket, retrieving his own small collection of photos.

He stares at them for an indecisive minute, clenching and unclenching his jaw, working up the courage to make the smallest of gestures. When he does hold them out to her, he still doesn’t say a thing. His throat is too dry and hot to even try. He thinks it would be worse if his voice cracked right now.

(y/n) smiles as she tucks her pictures away in her purse with great care so that she could better look through the pictures he’d taken. His face flushes with color when she finally takes them from him. Even the small brush of the tips of her fingers against his has Megumi’s breath catching in his throat.

And he holds his breath as she eagerly slides through the stack of photos. His throat is far too constricted now to show any sign of life. He very well could pass out at any moment. He just hopes she’d leave him there in a heap on the ground.

The relief of the exhale doesn’t come until she begins to giggle. It’s soft at first, almost under her breath as she continues admiring his photos, but then it erupts into something brilliant and bubbly, as if it was coming out of her uncontrollably. As lovely as the reaction was, it didn’t do much to ease Megumi’s nerves. They began to sink their teeth into his heart and gut, and he knew that any minute now, his knees would give out.

When her laughter calms down and she finally looks up at him, the surprise is evident on his features when he sees her colored cheeks and nervous smile. She hands the stack back to him, and Megumi’s quick to tuck them into his pocket, where maybe he they’d disappear forever, or at least just from the front of their minds.

“That’s pretty cute, huh?” She asks, an aftershock of quiet laughter shaking her shoulders and crinkling the corners of her eyes. This time, Megumi can’t help the way he laughs with her, but he does duck his head bashfully.

(y/n) thinks it’s all the more cuter, how he resorts to his nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but directly at her. She wonders if he even knows he’s doing it. With a surge of confidence, she rocks on her feet.

“Wanna ditch our friends and get lunch or something?”

He shrugs and nods, thinking anything would be better sustenance than the too-sugary drinks that Nobara had an addiction to. But the implication of the question dawns on him too late, and suddenly his eyes are widening as he realizes what she really meant.

“You mean— like, a date?”

It’s so damn cute the way his brows furrow and then raise ever so slightly, waiting without a single ounce of patience for her clarification. (y/n’s) giggling again as she nods her head, putting him out of his misery.

“Yeah, like a date,” She repeats teasingly.

Megumi nods his head again, this time faster, as if there was a time limit to her offer and he was worried he’d already wasted too much of it. Her smile brightens and there’s a small but noticeable skip in her step as they head off in a new direction together.

“Now maybe it won’t be so creepy when our friends see those pictures” She says, and Megumi can’t decipher if she’s messing with him or not. The look he gives her barely hides his panic.

“They’re gonna see them?”

“What do you think they’re talking about right now?” (y/n) retorts, knowing for a fact that Yuji and Nobara were gossiping away about the pair’s photos that consisted only of each other.

The thought makes Megumi’s face feel hot, and there’s no discretion in the way he tugs at his collar. The idea makes him nervous, his stomach flipping excessively. That said, he knew with the amount of gossip those two chatterboxes would generate, there was plenty of time to add a date to today’s agenda.

“They probably won’t even notice we’re gone”

(y/n) nods in agreement.

“They’ll be grateful to have the time for girl talk,” She teases.

With purpose, she steps closer to him so she could link her arm around his, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and shyly smiling up at him. Megumi returns the smile, his arm hooking a little further to keep her tucked next to him as close as he wanted. It was another chilly day outside, but he could almost forget about it with the way her closeness sparked warmth in his chest that flooded throughout his whole body. He hoped he’d get to do this for the rest of their day—

“So… where do we want to go?”

—and more days to come. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi imagine #fushiguro megumi x reader fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #megumi brainrot

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

poly!marauders meets apocalypse? maybe some kind of trope where they got separated from the reader at the beginning of it all and while they knew all the spots they were likely to meet up at they just kept missing each other, times being off and such! + like after some time them finally find their way back together

Thanks for requesting my love! Idk how the first war went (fake fan!) but I imagine this “apocalypse” as during that time, something like the wizarding world in the Deathly Hallows after the death eaters take the ministry? I hope this is alright <3

apocalypse poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

It’s getting dark, and you know that you can’t sleep here but you probably will anyway.

The cave isn’t a very comfortable place to spend the night, nor does it allow much room for hiding. If some troop of death eaters manages to track you here, you’ll be cornered, but you’ve long since gotten over the fear of being found. That panic lives in your bones now. It’s like your heartbeat, so inseparable from you that you don’t even notice it most the time.

And honestly, if they want to find you here, let them. You’ve got nowhere else to go.

This is the last place you could think of that the boys might come looking for you, the last place that hasn’t been found and desecrated and reduced to searing rubble. James told you once that they used to slip away during trips to Hogsmeade and explore these caves when they were younger. There are dozens of them, but he talked about one, the biggest, at the top of the hill, that they’d made their favorite hideout. You hope he remembers telling you as clearly as you remember hearing it. If they don’t find you here, you’ll have to face the question of whether you know your boyfriends as well as you think you do. Or whether you still have boyfriends to know.

The view from their cave would normally be spectacular, Hogsmeade all lit up and surrounded by woodlands, but knowing that only makes what you’re actually looking down at seem worse. The usually quaint and lively town is abandoned. You can’t detect any movements in the streets and not a single lamppost is lit. What had been such a beacon of joy and fun during your time at Hogwarts, a place tied to some of your best memories—saving money when you were little for sweets at Honeydukes, getting butterbeer with your friends at the Three Broomsticks, watching performers in the square—has been reduced to this ghost town, dark and lonely and vacant but for the poor souls too frightened to leave their homes.

Even as bleak as the town appears, your stomach grumbles looking down at it. Luckily, you’ve been able to utilize your skill with the obliviate charm to steal from muggle corner stores without anyone noticing, but though you leave the memories of the clerks largely intact, you still feel awful about it. No matter what food you smuggle away, guilt turns it bland and unappetizing in your mouth, and you haven’t tried to find a meal in a couple of days. Remus is good with illusions, if he were with you he could make money out of leaves and walk out of restaurants without having to tamper with the muggles themselves. Or if James still has the invisibility cloak, you could be using it to get all kinds of things without raising any suspicion.

An owl hoots in the trees below you, and your head snaps up out of some hopeful instinct. But no, no one is sending you letters here. You’re not even sure if owls are allowed anymore, or if there’s anyone left who would write to you. You wish desperately that Remus was here to tell you you’re being silly, that Voldemort’s followers couldn’t possibly have squashed every ounce of rebellion in just a couple weeks, or Sirius to make fun of the robes the death eaters wear like third years in their rebellious goth phase, or James to hug you and promise, however emptily, that it’ll all be alright in the end.

But as much as you miss the boys, you’re glad they have each other. At least, last you saw them they did.

There’s a shuffling of rocks outside, and you flinch away from the mouth of the cave. It could be an animal, or the wind, but you can’t chance it. You move as quietly as you can to the darkness in the back, pressing yourself against a wall and doing your best to sink into the shadows as you slip your wand free of your shirtsleeve. You’ve got an expelliarmus on your tongue, hoping desperately that will be enough and too cautious to hope for anything more, when the first dark figure climbs into the entrance of the cave.

“Merlin,” a male voice says, shrugging a pack off onto the floor, “it used to feel a bit bigger, don’t you think?”

A choked sob gives away your location, but it hardly matters, because in the next instant you’re racing towards the figure, shoes slipping clumsily on the damp ground. He curses, scrambling for his wand, but then you’re on him, and it’s all he can do to stay upright as your arms go around his neck.

He recognizes you then, gasping your name just as the other two boys make their way up to the landing. They’re mere silhouettes against the twilight outside, but even through your tear-blurred vision you’d know them anywhere. You make a high-pitched keening sound, and Sirius and Remus both rush to you, smushing you and James between them.

You can’t stop crying, splintered, gasping sobs like a child that doesn’t know how to live in the world on its own. You know James is weeping too from the wetness seeping into the collar of your shirt, and you think it’s Sirius’ hand that’s fisted in the back of your coat, but it really doesn’t matter. They’re here. They’re all here.

“I didn’t think you’d come here,” Remus says, voice ragged.

You laugh, and it’s a rough, awful sound, rusty from weeks of disuse. “I wasn’t sure you would either.”

“Fuck, baby.” Sirius adjusts his grip on you, trying to pull you closer though you’re already pressed against him. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You take a breath, steadying yourself as you step back where you can see them. They all look a little worse for wear, but that’s expected. James is rubbing underneath his glasses, teartracks cutting through what looks like soot on his face. Sirius too is dirtier than he ever would’ve allowed just a couple weeks ago, but he doesn’t seem like he’s lost any weight. And the scars you can see Remus, you conclude after some inspection, are the same ones you’ve been getting to know for years. They all seem okay. However they did it, they’ve managed to stay safe.

“I’ve been everywhere,” you say finally. “I went to the shack first, but there were death eaters there.”

James brow furrows, and he sniffles. “There weren’t any around when we went. When did you check there?”

“The day after it happened.”

“We were there just that morning.”

You sit down on the cold earth, careless of the dampness seeping into your pants. “I wanted to go sooner, but I couldn’t get away from my neighborhood. They were everywhere.”

Sirius takes a blanket out of the pack James had discarded, laying it out on the floor of the cave and motioning for you to come sit beside him on it.

“Did you try Godric’s Hallow?” Remus asks, spreading another blanket for himself and James across from you. “We hung around there for days.”

“Yeah,” you say. Remus sets a hand on your knee as he sits in front of you, James seating himself across from Sirius. “I went there straight after the shack, didn’t leave until the next night.”

“You’re joking.” Sirius looks at you, devastation written across his features. “We got there three days after we got separated from you. We had to have been there at the same time.”

You let out a short, stilted laugh, laying your head on Sirius’ shoulder as a fresh wave of tears obscures your vision. “We must’ve just missed each other.” Sirius wraps an arm around your shoulder, resting his head atop yours. “Wonder how many times that happened,” you say bitterly.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Remus' tone is firm, but his knee bumps into yours consolingly. “We’re together, and…and we’re not going to get separated again. I won’t let it happen.”

“But I think we should pick a more definitive meeting spot,” Sirius says with forced lightness. “Just to be sure, you know?”

James actually laughs, and the familiar sound lifts the mood in the cave slightly.

“Probably,” you agree. “Hey, you guys don't have any food on hand, do you?”

“Merlin, is that rumbling your stomach?” Sirius asks. “I was thinking the roof of this place was about to come down.” He nudges you playfully, and you lean more of your weight onto him in response. He’s laying it on a bit thick in an attempt to try and brighten the atmosphere in your little cave, but you love him for it.

“We’ve got food,” James says, already digging through the pack. “Sandwich okay?”

As ridiculous as it would’ve sounded to you a month ago, the idea of a full sandwich, with bread and everything, makes your mouth water. “More than okay.” You take it from him, all but moaning as you chew your first bite. “Fuck, this is so luxurious.”

“If you think that’s luxurious,” James says enticingly, “wait until you see the grade-a sleeping pads we picked up. It’s a good thing we found you before you had to sleep in here, angel, because this is about to be a major improvement.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. This is already a major improvement.

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rebouks · 2 months

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Previous // Next

Hi Alex!

I don’t think it’s stupid or cheesy to miss someone, I miss you too! Going back to normal after being on holiday is always horrible, especially after this one, and especially having to go back to school, I’m not a big fan! Do you go to school too? I wanted to ask if you did but I couldn’t… it’s nothing personal, by the way, sometimes I just can’t speak to people and I don’t really know why. I thought it was my decision if I did or didn’t before I met you but maybe not. My parents n’ the teachers at school call it selective mutism but I won’t bore you with all that crap.

I can’t see your new teeth but they grow fast so maybe next time! If they don’t maybe you could get some gold one’s like your dad has, unless you don’t wanna look like a pirate lol.. my littlest sister has four teeth now, and I have all my big teeth! I haven’t counted the twins though cos they’d probably bite me if I tried haha!!

Ava is the tiny one with the blonde pigtails! She’s cute but she still sleeps and poops a lot haha, she’s sorta chill though and definitely doesn’t cry as much as Wren and Byrd used to (have you noticed we’re all named after birds yet? I guess my parents thought it was cute since our last name is Finch) Wren’s the ginger one with plaits! She’s pretty funny but she’s super grumpy sometimes and likes to bite and kick (not me though, she loves me) I think it’s cos she’s tired a lot cos she never sleeps at night, kinda like dad.. they’re twins but Byrd is way different, I couldn’t get a picture of him cos he kept running off, he’s crazy like that but he’s super snuggly and loves playing doctor! He likes to pretend to break my legs so I can’t go anywhere then fix them for me haha. Brothers and sisters are fun but they can be a pain in the butt sometimes! We have a cat called Lou too, his full name is Toulouse and he likes to bring us leaves from the garden and scream about ‘em, and he loves stealing food when you’re not looking.

Dad’s been teaching mom how to cook cos she sucks at it (don’t tell her I said that though cos I always pretend it’s not THAT bad) she’s sorta getting better though so I suppose the whole practice makes perfect thing pays off eventually. I got a school project to make a lame volcano that I didn’t wanna do as well, but my parents made me do it anyway.. we all know that real volcanoes aren’t full of baking powder and vinegar though so I dunno if there was much point to it but they seemed to think it was important so I did it anyway, at least I got a picture of it “going off” I guess. No one likes homework, even if it’s supposed to be fun, right?!

It’s cool you set Amber free!! I’m sure she’s happier wherever she is now so I guess you could just think of that when you miss her? The rocks are way cooler anyway! My aunt Aspen has loads of crystals too, sometimes she even charges them in the sun or the full moon.. I keep forgetting to ask her why but I’ll try and remember so I can tell you next time!

Hahaa your poor dad with those birds! I’ll definitely keep the picture cos it’s hilarious, Wren found it the funniest but don’t worry, I’ll keep the picture safe from her sticky hands! I have a hiding spot in the attic for all the stuff I don’t want them touching. I guess birdwatching is sorta fun sometimes but you’ve gotta be quiet (easy for me I guess.. hah!) I’m not sure there’s any other birds round here other than seagulls since we live right next to the sea, those are the ones you can hear the most anyway cos they never shut up! My dad jokes that he used to be a seagull in a past life cos he’s loud and greedy like they are lol.. he’s been building me a treehouse too, I bet that’d be good for birdwatching!! It’ll be super cool once he’s finished but it’s taking ages cos he mostly does it all by himself, I try n’ help sometimes but I’m still too small to carry or lift most things.. I wanna be as strong as him one day, he can build and fix almost anything (he swears a lot during it though haha!) Do you ever think about what you wanna be when you grow up? I don’t really think about that sorta stuff cos working sounds boring, especially if it’s as lame as school!!

I’m ten, by the way! How old are you and when’s your birthday? Mine’s February 22nd. I don’t think I have a favourite food, anything my dad makes is amazing cos he’s a good cook and my mom makes the BEST pancakes! We’re always stuffed after dinner but dad says (lies) that pudding goes in a different part of your stomach so there’s always room for cake haha.. I think I like it best when he makes spicy food but Wren and Byrd hate it so he doesn’t make stuff like that too often. It’s fun to see how much you can eat before your mouth feels like it’s on fire and I’ve decided I’m gonna beat him one day so he better watch out!!!

I didn’t know what to write at first but I guess I sorta ended up writing quite a lot since I had some catching up to do! Are you and your dad on holiday in the tower or are you living there for now? It sorta sounded like you’ve been there a long time, where do you usually live? What kinda stuff does your dad dig up for work? It’d be cool if he dug up dinosaur bones!! I watched something like that recently and they were HUGE!

It’s hard to think of questions on the spot but you can talk about anything you want too! I probably owe you a million answers as well so you can ask anything you want too! I had fun reading your letter and I’m glad we can be pen-pals even if we don’t get to see each other! Maybe next time we meet in person I’ll be able to say something, but writing would still be fun too so I guess it doesn’t really matter, right?

Love Robin c:

ps. I’m keeping the funny photo of you yelling at your dad and there’s nothing you can do about it!!

pps!! I don’t have a way to print out photos yet otherwise I’d have sent some new ones. Dad gave me an old polaroid ages ago but it’s still broken, his friend said he might be able to fix it though so hopefully I can use that next time. Mom said you can have some of our old ones and the ones from her disposable camera whilst we were on holiday for now though so I’ll send those to you as soon as they come back!

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Text

Elementary, Chapter Six:

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x sarah’s teacher!reader

rating: E (18+ only, talks of bisexuality (reader is also bisexual), unprotected PIV, just so much fluff it’ll make your teeth rot)

wc: 3.4k

a/n: as a bisexual person who’s known from a very young age that they were different but never had someone to go to about it, i felt it was really important to showcase a relationship between a paternal figure/mentor and child wherein the child feels comfortable seeking advice about the things going on inside their head. if you have an issue with it, you’re entitled to your opinion, but from personal experience i know that pretending as though pre-teens aren’t capable of understanding the complexities of gender and sexuality only leads to them having more questions and more unnecessary shame over things they cannot control. if you don’t agree, please just keep scrolling. everyone is entitled to their own views on this, and i just ask that you respect mine just as i respect yours. 🤍

series masterlist | joel masterlist | elementary playlist

After a weekend of pure bliss, and maybe a bit too much sex, it was time to say goodbye to the man of your dreams, at least for the next three days.

Joel had heeded your advice about whisking Sarah off for a little trip, choosing to take her down to Corpus Cristi rather than San Antonio so that they could enjoy the ocean for the first time in a long time.

At the present moment, you stood in the driveway of his two-story suburban home, the Texas sun setting behind the houses across the street. Joel was in the garage with Tommy, changing the tires on their truck while you contentedly looked on, a glass of fresh lemonade in your hand courtesy of Sarah and Jessie.

“Hey, baby?” Joel called, the pet name slipping from his lips as casually as a breath. You forced your grin to calm at the sound.

“Yeah?” you replied.

“Would you mind goin’ inside and grabbin’ us a couple beers? Pretty please,” he sweet-talked you, his hands covered with grease, his face and neck glistening from sweat. How could you deny him his request when he looked like that? When he looked at you like that?

“I suppose I could,” you smirked. “But it’s gonna cost you.”

“What’s your price?” he asked, matching your smile.

“A couple smooches.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Tommy groaned at the cutesy game the two of you were playing.

“You can pay up later,” you spoke to Joel, your eyes flickering over to his crabby brother. Joel chuckled and nodded, giving you a wink before returning to his task.

Inside the house, Sarah sat with Jessie in the living room, the two girls occupied by the 1995 film adaptation of this month’s book club pick: Sense and Sensibility.

“How’s it going in here?” you asked with a friendly smile. “The movie any good?”

“It’s alright, I just thought the guys would be better looking,” Sarah replied.

“Yeah, isn’t Willoughby supposed to be…hot?” Jessie added, looking to you as you stood in the kitchen.

“Hugh Grant isn’t ugly,” you argued with a laugh. “Never been my cup of tea but a lot of women seem to find him good looking.”

“Well, they need to get their eyes checked. You know who’s hot? Justin Timberlake,” Jessie proudly declared, earning a gag from her friend.

“Yeah, so hot with his ramen hair,” Sarah snarked sarcastically. “Have you seen Usher?”

“Yeah, he’s cute, too,” Jessie agreed.

“You know who I was really into when I was a teenager?” you asked, and both girls looked full of interest. “Freddie Mercury.”

“Who’s that?” they asked in unison, making you gasp.

“Who’s that?” you repeated. “Oh, girls, your parents have failed you. He’s the lead singer of Queen,” you waited for them to place the rock star in their minds. “Bohemian Rhapsody? We Will Rock You?”

“No clue,” Sarah shook her head. “You think my dad would know him?”

“If he doesn’t, he’s crazy,” you chuckled. “Anyways, I gotta go bring these out before Tommy gets an attitude. You two have fun arguing about Justin Timberlake and Usher.”

“And you have fun daydreaming about Frankie Mars!”

“Freddie Mercury!” you corrected with a chuckle.

Back outside in the garage, the boys greeted you with a cheer as you handed over their beers. Joel planted a kiss upon your cheek as you leaned into his side, his hand too dirty to hold your waist so he refrained.

“You both know who Freddie Mercury is, right?” you asked as they took sips from their cold amber bottles.

“Yeah, Queen,” Joel replied and Tommy nodded in confirmation. “Why?”

“Sarah and Jessie had no idea who he or Queen was,” you chuckled. “Called him Frankie Mars.”

“My god,” Tommy shook his head. “Yet they’ll talk your ear off about B2K and N-Sync.”

“Sign of the times,” Joel sighed and chuckled before tilting his beer towards you. “Hey, where’s your drink at?”

“I gotta drive home,” you reminded, earning a pout.

“Thought you might stay the night,” he murmured just for you to hear. “Since I’m gonna be gone for the next few days.”

“Well, I never got an invitation,” you snarked with a tilt of your head.

“Go get a beer,” he ordered with a smirk.

The boys remained outside well after the sun had set over the horizon, tinkering with the truck and letting the radio play, the sounds of 80’s and 90’s love songs filling the night air. Jessie had gone home, leaving Sarah to join the three of you outside.

“Baby,” Joel turned and locked eyes with you as “Weak” by SWV came on the radio, a charming, pleading smile on his face as he held his grease-covered hand out for you. “Dance with me.”

“These two,” Tommy rolled his eyes and chuckled, shaking his head in disgust as he looked to his niece. “Can’t wait til this honeymoon shit is over.”

“As long as you wipe your hands off,” you ignored Tommy’s complaining and stood up off the hood of your car where you’d been looking at the stars with Sarah. Joel pulled a rag out of his back pocket and cleaned his hands as best as possible as you walked to him. “This is gonna be our song now, you know?”

“It’s a damn good song,” he argued, placing one hand on the small of your back while the other held yours in slowdance form. He pressed his cheek to yours and led you to the music, slowly swaying you around to the beat.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” Sarah teased from the car, an amused smile on her face at the sight before her.

“I can’t,” he replied.

“You’re not too shabby,” you mumbled in his ear, earning a squeeze to your waist. Joel turned his face to whisper into your ear.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about gettin’ you alone all damn day,” he confessed, making your heart skip a beat. “You think I haven’t noticed you checkin’ me out?”

“I’m always checking you out,” you admitted with a smile. “The whole sweaty man working with his hands thing just makes it even harder to look away.”

“Hmm,” he hummed in thought for a minute before speaking again. “This might be a good incentive for me finally gettin’ around to fixin’ shit up ‘round here.”

“As long as you invite me over to watch.” Joel laughed and nodded.

“I think you’d faint if you saw me at work.”

“And I think you’d be very, very bored if you saw me at work.”

“You kiddin’?” he asked rhetorically. “The idea of you teachin’ multiplication drives me crazy.”

You pinched his side and rolled your eyes, laughing at his sarcasm.

“Although, I do love those dresses you wear to work,” he husked, his tone still light but there was an undeniable desire in it. “Those actually drive me crazy.”

“Joel, can you and your lady love split up for a goddamn minute so you can help me change out this oil?” Tommy called over the music, forcing a deep sigh from his brother. Joel pressed a kiss onto your cheek and hummed.

“We’ll continue this dance later,” he promised. “Alone and in the nude. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like you better hurry up and finish,” you pulled away from him with a smirk. Joel mustered the strength to leave your embrace, heading back to the truck while you walked back to the car, resuming your place next to Sarah on the hood.

“I was trying to find the Big Dipper,” Sarah started as you got comfortable, her small hand pointing around the night sky. “But I can’t see it.”

“Hmm, well, I think that’s the Little Dipper,” you pointed out a vague constellation, the street lights making the stars harder to spot. “No clue where the big one is.”

A beat of comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you laid there, eyes searching the stars. You wondered for a moment if looking at these bright little orbs in the sky affected her the same way it affected you, forcing you to think about your humanity and how lucky you were to have found this beautiful family in such a vast universe. Though you’d long since given up on wishing on stars, perhaps one of your wishes for true love you made as a little girl actually came true, the brown eyed man in front of you brought to you by some unseen force, some magic worked by the Cosmos.

“Hey…can I ask you something?” Sarah tilted her head to look at you and you did the same, nodding your head at her. “It’s silly, and…well, I don’t want you to think anything—whatever, I’ll just come out and ask. Is it…is it possible to maybe like boys…and girls?”

“Oh,” you sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flickering to Joel as he leaned underneath the hood of his pick-up truck.

“It’s just…well, when we were talking about celebrity crushes earlier, Jessie knew right away that she liked Usher. But for me, I had two people pop into my mind. Usher and Beyoncé. And then when Jessie and I were talking about boys we liked at school, I thought of José G and, well, Jessie. But I didn’t tell her that, obviously.”

“You know, I can only speak for myself, but I’ve always liked both women and men,” you spoke carefully, knowing that not only was she your pupil, but also not your child to influence. The last thing you wanted was to cross a line with Joel, not that you thought he’d be against his daughter’s potential bisexuality—he’d been incredibly supportive when you confessed your own to him on your first date. “But this might be something you could bring up with your therapist, or even your dad.”

“What if he gets mad?” she asked, her eyes turning to watch her father as he wiped his oily hands clean.

“You know your dad better than I do. Does he really seem like the type to get mad over something like that?” Sarah chuckled and shook her head. “If it’s something you’re nervous about, I could bring it up to him for you.”

“Really?” She turned to you with a smile. “That would take a lot of the pressure off.”

“Of course,” you smiled. “And as for Jessie, I think the best romances are born out of friendship. You guys are so young, you don’t need to worry about all that other complicated stuff for now. Just…be her friend. It’ll all work out how it’s supposed to in the end.”

“I’m really glad my dad found you,” she spoke sincerely. “It’s been hard for both of us after mom died, but it’s been even harder watching him be so alone. And not only do you make him happy, you’re also there for me. It’s…really nice.”

“You’re gonna make me cry, kid,” you chuckled and wiped your teary eyes.

“What’s goin’ on over here?” Joel approached the hood of the car and both of you sat upright, chuckling at his cluelessness.

“Just talking,” you replied.

“Alright, well, it’s gettin’ late, baby girl,” Joel tapped Sarah’s shoe. “We’re gonna head out early tomorrow, so I think it’s bedtime for you.”

“And you,” she countered, poking his stomach as she walked past him. “Night y’all.”

“Night,” you waved at her as she walked up to Tommy to hug him goodnight.

“You gonna fill me in?” Joel tapped your shoe.

“Yeah, upstairs.” You stood up and walked into his open arms, allowing him to squeeze you close and sway you.

“Tommy’s spending the night so we’re gonna have a full house,” he mumbled into your hair. “Gonna have to be extra quiet.”

“What makes you think you’re getting lucky tonight?” you teased, lifting your head just enough to rest your chin on his chest. Joel’s smile had you weak in the knees as he looked down at you, still hugging you close.

“Gotta pay up for those beers somehow,” he replied.

After wishing Tommy a good night, you and Joel headed upstairs to his bedroom, his hands grabbing at your hips the entire way. Once the door was shut, he was all over you, pressing his lips to your neck as he backed you towards his en-suite.

“Need to shower,” he husked against the shell of your ear.

“So do I.”

“What ever will we do about that?” he grinned against your skin, earning a few giggles that sounded in the acoustics of his bathroom. Letting go of you, he walked over to the shower to get the water going while you stripped out of your clothes.

“I didn’t bring anything,” you frowned, just then realizing you’d be going without a toothbrush and a clean set of clothes.

“Hold on,” he walked out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, opening his dresser to retrieve a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. “Here’s your pj’s,” he set the clothes on the bathroom counter before opening the drawer beneath the sink and grabbing a brand new toothbrush still in its packaging. “All good?”

“You just keep a spare toothbrush on hand?” you asked, grinning as you opened the package.

“I got it for you,” he replied sheepishly. “Figured you’d stay over at some point.”

“You are…annoyingly perfect,” you breathed out a chuckle, shaking your head. “And I love you.”

Joel’s grin widened at the sound of your affections, those three words still new to both of you.

“I love you,” he repeated through his grin. “And I need you, so I suggest you get your fine ass in the shower.”

“You gonna make me?” you purred, reaching for the button of his jeans and popping it undone. Joel shivered as you reached inside his underwear to palm his stiffened length, his brows lacing together.

“You got me wrapped around your finger, baby,” he moaned breathily, his hands cradling your jaw as he leaned in for a slow and sensual kiss. “Do I gotta get down on my knees for you?”

“Maybe,” you grinned into the kiss. Joel lowered himself to the ground in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs as he peered up at you with those brown, doe eyes of his. Pushing his hair back, you smiled at him softly. “You look good from down there.”

“Can’t say I’ve got a bad view myself,” he smirked and leaned forward to press a kiss to your mound, right about where you needed him most. Guiding his eyes back to you with a tilt of his chin, you smoothed over his beard.

“Come on, cowboy. Let’s get in the shower before the water gets cold.”

Joel stood up and followed you into the steamy tub, pulling the curtain closed behind him while you let the stream of hot water wash over you. His hands found your hips and his lips pressed against your throat as you tipped your head back to wet your hair, his cock prodding at your belly.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against your skin as though he didn’t mean for you to hear it. “Every inch of you…perfect.”

You guided his lips from your chest back up to yours, swallowing down his moan as he hugged you close under the stream of hot water. You gasped as he turned you around and pressed your back against the cold wall, one of his wide-spread hands gripping your ass, the other lifting your thigh to wrap around his hip.

“Need you,” you breathed into his ear as he sucked a mark into your neck. Joel let out a choked groan against your heated skin and nodded, the hand on your ass moving to grip his length and guide it into your heat. You sighed in unison at the feeling of his cock burying inside of you, your walls sore from the constant fucking ever since Friday night. “God,” you mewled as he stilled deep inside you. “Gotta go slow. S’too sore still.”

“Do you wanna stop?” he asked, desire straining his voice.

“No,” you quickly shook your head. “God, no.”

Joel lifted his head from your shoulder to look at you, his hand reaching to cup your face as he slowly withdrew himself. His thumb swiped across your bottom lip as he pushed back in, his eyes studying the way your face scrunched from the pleasure.

“Love you so much,” he moaned, his eyes glossy with lust.

What started slow and tender soon turned ravenous, his cock spearing into you once you were relaxed enough to take him properly. His grunts were muffled as he pressed his lips against your cheek while you bit your lip in an attempt to silence your cries. Your body moved against the wall as he thrust up into you, stroking against that spot inside that blinded you with bliss.

“God,” he choked out into your ear. “Pussy’s so damn good.”

“Joel, touch me,” you begged, needed just a little bit of help from his fingers to help you reach your climax. Joel was quick to act, sliding his hand down the front of your body so that he could strum over your clit in perfectly pressured circles. “Just like that, oh my god.”

“Baby, I’m so fuckin’ close,” he whined, his eyes screwed shut as he leaned forward, resting his forehead on your shoulder. You held the back of his head and shoulders, clinging to him for dear life as your body went limp from your climax, pleasure shooting from your core down to your toes as he fucked you through it. “Gonna cum, baby, fuck,” he warned, hips stuttering.

“Cum inside me, baby,” you purred, drunk on your post-climactic bliss and kissing his temple. Joel moaned in time with his last few sharp thrusts until he stilled inside you, his chest heaving against yours.

“Fuck,” he chuckled, lifting his head to give you a lazy grin. “You’re makin’ me feel old, woman.”

“Maybe you are old, man,” you grinned back, tracing his smile with your fingertip. “I love you.”

“Never gonna get tired of hearin’ that,” he chuckled and leaned forward to give you a sweet peck. “I love you too.”

After finally washing up and getting ready for bed, you tucked into Joel’s side, resting your head on his chest as the soft hum of the ceiling fan threatened to lull you into sleep, but there was still one thing left to talk about.

“So, uh, Sarah asked me something earlier,” you began, only slightly nervous to bring the subject up.

“Oh yeah? That what you two were talkin’ about outside?” Joel rasped.

“Yeah,” you rolled over a bit, resting your chin on his chest so that you could look into his eyes. “She, uh, she asked me if it was possible to like both girls and boys.”

Joel’s heavy-lidded eyes widened, his attention earned. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled.

“What did you say?”

“I told her that I could only speak for myself, and that I’ve felt that way since I was a kid,” you replied, studying his reaction carefully. Joel nodded, thinking to himself for a moment before turning back to you.

“Why didn’t she…come to me about this?” he asked, frowning a bit. “Did she think I wouldn’t be okay with it?”

“It’s a hard subject to breach,” you reminded with a shrug. “I’m sure it wasn’t anything personal.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Should I bring it up on the trip? Does she know you told me?”

“Yeah, she wanted my help getting her foot in the door,” you replied.

“Well,” he chuckled. “At least now there’s a good chance she won’t bring any stupid boys home.”

“I don’t know, I’m bisexual and look at where I am,” you rubbed his chest with a smirk. “In a stupid, gorgeous boy’s bed.”

“That’s true,” he smirked at you for a moment before sighing. “God, I really hope she isn’t worried about what I think about all this. I don’t care what she is or who she likes, she’s my baby girl.”

“She knows that,” you assured. “And if not, there’s always time to let her know.”

“What would I do without you?” he hummed, giving you a squeeze and a kiss upon your forehead.

“You’re doing a better job with her than you think,” you combed his hair back. “All I’m doing is reminding you of it.”

“I’m gonna cry if you keep bein’ so damn nice to me,” he chuckled.

“Shh,” you laughed and kissed his nose. “Let’s go to bed before I make you shed your first tear in years.”

“I cry often, thank you very much,” he corrected sassily.

“My apologies,” you grinned against him as you cuddled him from behind, Joel’s preferred position. Kissing his shoulder, you rubbed his stomach and whispered, “Good night, baby.”

“Good night, honey.”

•

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller reader insert #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fanfiction #elementary

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rainbow-starlight · 4 months

Text

Why is Help Wanted 2 Sun… Like That?

Okay, I’ve been putting off making this post until I felt like I had a better idea of what was going on, and now that I’ve watched at least part of a play-through and gone over the lines a whole bunch, I think I’m ready.

I’m gonna talk about my thoughts on Sun as a character as well as HW2 as a whole here, so it’ll be a bit long. Pop some popcorn or something.

Please keep in mind that this is all my personal opinion and you’re free to disagree with it! In fact, if you think I’m totally wrong, please tell me why. I love new perspectives!

SO! Let’s get right into it, shall we?

First things first: Help Wanted 2 Sun is not the same guy as Security Breach/Ruin Sun. If his personality difference was significant enough to surprise you, that’s because he’s a different person.

I’m not entirely sure how much of Help Wanted 2 is meant to be actually happening, but I think that at least the mini games are training simulations.

However, it’s important to note that a lot of the stuff happening in the mini games is just… nonsense. How did Freddy get frozen like that? What’s with those regular batteries in his arms? Why are half the supplies in first aid explicitly for robots and not humans? Why is there a shredder table in the daycare for kids to stick fingers into?

Some of this can be shrugged off with the usual “FazCo is meant to be comedically shitty and the tech often doesn’t make sense anyway,” but the first aid simulation is what really stood out to me. Even with the previous explanations, that doesn’t explain the calming gas mask that could only ever fit Helpy or the steel wool scrubber or the tank cleaner spray bottle among the medical supplies. If the goal is to train new first aid staff to avoid lawsuits, it’s doing a pretty poor job of it. So… what is it for?

I touched on this idea previously with my post about Sun’s AI being trained on kids’ artwork. The idea of FazCo making a silly new employee training game as a means of harvesting behavioral data to train their AIs seems very within their realm of scummy.

This is why the Arts & Crafts mini game exists. It’s literally a task that requires exact copying. Maybe it’s essentially like teaching an AI to solve captchas by feeding it a bunch of data on how humans solve them correctly and incorrectly.

Maybe its presence is explained to employees as fun practice with the VR system or a break activity during training or something.

This would explain several things about the game.

The existence of the shredder table and Sun shredding literally ALL of your artwork: It being a funny way to despawn the stuff you make is a lot more reasonable when that’s exactly what it’s for in-universe, too. The generators in the play structures are unsafe enough, but that would’ve been on another level if it were real.

Sun’s line “Be creative on your own time, we are making ART!” It literally isn’t a creative activity, it’s a task. I know you can’t really apply logic to a lot of FNAF stuff, especially the DCA’s design, but if Sun were actually this detail-oriented and perfectionistic with everything, he’d never be able to function in childcare.

The fact that Sun’s “fear” of the dark seems like a bit. It literally is a bit. There’s no threat, it’s not real. I originally thought he just wanted the player out of his space faster and didn’t know how to assert a boundary there, but I think it’s actually just to make the player finish the tasks faster for data collection purposes.

Possibly also why he’s so comfortable being casually rude to the player. He is a jester, after all, and the player has lots of opportunities to do things they shouldn’t, too. It’s basically all a bit.

Also… what if the minigames have versions of the base AIs in there? It’s a version of the Sun AI with the theater programming and the basics of the childcare stuff? His entire existence is a shitty little simulation where he runs a singular activity for grown adults who can’t (or won’t) follow very simple instructions.

The biggest thing that’s been bothering me about the takes I’ve seen regarding HW2 Sun’s personality is that people have been calling him “mean” while completely ignoring the circumstances he’s reacting to. If a coworker came into my personal space and I was so generous as to share my favorite activity with them and they proceeded to intentionally ignore the rules I set and EAT SUPPLIES I USE FOR WORK? Yeah, no, I’d react like that too.

There’s definitely something interesting about how genuinely excited and happy Sun sounds when first welcoming his new friend the player to the daycare and inviting them to Arts & Crafts vs. when they return. He seems like he WANTS to befriend the player, but the game just assumes you’ll be upsetting him so there’s no option for dialogue where you’re nice to him and respect his boundaries and participate in an activity with him in a way he’s comfortable with.

I say “in a way he’s comfortable with” because he is a little weird about the whole “sit right there and DON’T MOVE” thing. He does seem actually excited and enthusiastic about the idea of shooting darts at the items you want so he can get them for you, though. Maybe because he sees it as a happy compromise, or maybe because it’s supposed to be a fun part of the game he’s programmed to be in charge of.

I saw some other commentary on Sun (primarily thinking of @kazzykatt) talking about how he seems almost excessively self-sufficient, and how this could possibly be due to neglect (he and Moon definitely aren’t as well cared for as the other animatronics, the generators in the daycare are a very lazy fix for actually reprogramming Moon properly, he seems bitter that he can’t fix the carousel on his own and he and Moon don’t seem to trust the player to fix it, their design is clearly better suited to the stage but didn’t get changed for the daycare, I could go on and on), and this would also explain his control issues to an extent.

Sun, in SB and HW2, doesn’t leave the daycare. He has so little that he’s in control of in his own life. He used to be on stage (and based on his dialogue probably misses it quite a lot) but had the job he was built for taken from him. He’s a perfectionist that’s constantly overwhelmed by too many things being marked top priority in his system, working too many hours with too many small children. Of course he’d be desperate to hold onto any little bit of control he has.

Honestly, when I first heard his voice lines, the initial vibe I got wasn’t “wow they made Sun mean” but “wow Sun sounds actually miserable” and I’m kind of surprised more people didn’t pick up on that. He sounds less bitchy and more like he’s lashing out because he’s trapped in an awful situation that’s completely out of his hands.

“Wait, are you saying none of HW2’s characterization should be taken seriously?”

You might be asking that, but my answer is a resounding NO! This is definitely still a Sun, and I think seeing two different Suns (even if we don’t know how much of HW2’s personality we can assume is meant to be taken seriously) is really helpful for interpreting what the base Sun personality might have.

It’s also important to keep in mind that none of the Suns we’ve seen were in a good situation. Security Breach Sun had the virus, Ruin Sun had gone slightly mad from isolation, and HW2 Sun is stuck in a shitty simulation babysitting bored adult staff as they fail to complete simple tasks. What we mostly know about him is how he responds to stress, and this is why there’s so much room for interpretation!

Here’s some traits I think every version of the Sun AI would have.

Love of making things. Despite everything, HW2 Sun seems to genuinely love doing arts & crafts. Especially with googly eyes. This could kind of be assumed from SB Sun, but he was also trying to entertain/bribe a child.

On this note… interest in fixing things? Maybe he just wants to avoid having to rely on staff, but if he and Moon are subject to that much neglect, it makes sense that he’d try to learn to do repairs himself. I saw @pixelchills talking about the possibility that the S.T.A.F.F. Bots in the DCA’s room are not there because Moon broke them, but because Moon collected them for Sun to practice fixing. It seems feasible to me, especially since taking something apart and putting it back together might have the same calming and satisfying effect on Sun as completing something like a paint-by-numbers.

Playful insults and lots of drama. I don’t mean actual rudeness, I mean friendly teasing. Again, he is a jester. A lot of his HW2 insults come across more like this. Hell, even his compliments come across like this with the delivery and immediate shredding. He’s just a theater kid at heart.

Difficulty regulating emotions under pressure. This is the kind of thing that would pop up on his worst days (such as being trapped in his destroyed home with a poor connection to his badly damaged physical form while the only help he’s seen in ages ignores his instructions and puts their own safety at risk, or being trapped in a shitty simulation while his only company ignores his instructions and puts their own safety at risk). He’d have to be able to manage this sort of thing better to work well with children, but everyone’s got their bad days. He’s prone to outbursts and tantrums when he’s overwhelmed and unable to stop people from breaking the rules and/or hurting themselves.

People pleasing and nonconfrontational. Yes, HW2 Sun, too. SB Sun seems genuinely desperate to make sure Gregory’s having a good time, and HW2 Sun is shockingly tolerant of some of the player’s bullshit (ex. how he tries to laugh off them shooting darts at him/throwing things). Even calling the player “good friend” when he’s not so happy to see them or threatening them with Moon instead of just telling them their time is almost up seem like signs of this to me. And letting the player make arts and crafts in the ruined daycare in HW2? Yeah, that’s a people pleaser through and through. Sun needs a lesson in setting boundaries (and for those boundaries to actually be respected).

Perfectionistic + “if you want something done right, you’ve gotta do it yourself” attitude. This would mostly manifest in how he completes work tasks, but I think every Sun’s incredibly detail-oriented and would rather do everything themselves just to make sure it’s exactly how they want. This could manifest in lots of ways, from “insulting the staff for how they put things away and telling them to do it again while he supervises” to “politely thanking them for their help and complimenting their hard work only to redo everything himself the moment they’re gone.” I think where on that spectrum you wind up is dependent on the version of Sun you’re interacting with and the environment his personality developed in.

High-energy and social! A given, of course. He never stops moving and everything is always so exciting. New people are friends he hasn’t met yet until proven otherwise.

Love of pranks… to an extent. Again, jester! I stand by my headcanon of Sun and Moon conspiring to convince the staff Moon’s some sort of spooky monster whenever he’s not actively dangerous. As long as he’s not making a mess, breaking the rules, throwing himself off-schedule, or actually hurting anyone? He’s all over it.

Anxiety. This seems like it’s at least partially caused by the lazy daycare reprogramming. All the Suns we’ve encountered seem to lack knowledge of how to actually get children to behave. It seems more like they programmed him with a bunch of games and activities and then set a bunch of super high-priority tasks for him such as “keep kids safe, keep kids happy, keep kids entertained, keep daycare clean” etc. and he’s unable to really prioritize so he’s just constantly overwhelmed.

Kinda always using “childcare voice.” If you know anyone who’s worked with kids, you know what I mean here. Even with adults, he talks to them like kids sometimes, just because it’s what he knows and what he’s used to and because his processor’s fried from however many hours a week he’s surrounded by kids. Consider his reactions to when you eat the crafts as an example. (IMPORTANT NOTE: I don’t think he’d coddle adults like children. It’s more about tone and vocabulary, like “customer service voice”.)

Stickler for rules. He cares about things being done right! The rules are there for a reason! Order is important to him (probably in no small part because it keeps him out of trouble and reduces his stress).

That’s about all I can think of for now, but as someone who writes a very friendly and sweet Sun, I actually don’t think HW2’s characterization was that far off from what I had already assumed based on Ruin/SB. The only difference is that the Sun I’m usually writing is in a much more supportive environment with lots of helpful staff that care about his well-being. If he didn’t have that, I could absolutely see him becoming more like HW2.

I will finish this off with two final important points:

Being an emotional person and liking “childish” things does not make an adult less of an adult.

(He’s a childcare worker, c’mon.)

If someone gets pissed off after being repeatedly antagonized, that does not make them a “mean/bitchy/sassy person.”

(Yeah, he doesn’t handle it gracefully, but to be fair, I wouldn’t either in his shoes.)

Thank you all for reading!!

#fnaf sun #fnaf #fnaf help wanted 2 spoilers #fnaf hw2 #fnaf help wanted 2 #fnaf headcanons #fnaf hcs #hw2 sun #hw2 spoilers #dca sun #sun fnaf #fnaf dca #dca fandom #daycare attendant sun

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lavendertales · 3 months

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dinner party || Steven Grant x f!reader

summary: after attending the same book club for weeks, you and Steven run into each other at a dinner party and all of your curiosity and tension finally clash together.

word count: 3.8k

A/N: first fic of the year yaay😌 felt like writing something lighthearted so no warnings besides tension, a hot makeout session & Steven being a sweet literature nerd. I'm actually having a very hard time getting into writing & posting lately but I'm working through it. anyway, feedback is always very much appreciated ❤️

You weren't planning on showing up to this dinner, but according to your friends, "it’ll do you good" to socialize and get out more. While they may have been right about joining the book club to begin with, you don’t want to reveal the real reason why you're attending this event because they’re gonna be all over you, asking incessant questions and badgering you all enthusiastically and frankly, you need some time to process what you're feeling.

What are you feeling exactly?

You're excited about the possibility of seeing Steven again tonight. He’s the big reason why you're going to your book club’s owner’s house for this dinner party in the first place. You can’t help but be attracted to him; that much is clear, blatantly obvious. You are definitely attracted to him. He’s so damn intelligent and curious about things and open-minded and sweet… oh lord, he is so intoxicatingly sweet. And so shy! Steven seemed like the kind of man to wear his heart on his sleeve and that is like a breath of fresh air to you.

And when he mentioned the dinner party happening tonight… you figured it was the perfect excuse to go. It’s not a sin to want to see someone you're attracted to, right?

And it’s been such a long time since you’ve felt this attracted to someone.

Okay, so bottom line is, you're here tonight to show support for the book club, to have some wine and maybe talk to Steven.

You definitely want to talk to Steven. Or at least see him.

He’s got such a sense of humor too. The kind where he doesn't necessarily intend to joke but it comes out funny anyway and it makes you giggle involuntarily. He can make you laugh by saying dry and bad jokes, and when he talks about poetry and interprets it, about history, the way his eyes flicker when he talks about literature in general...

Yeah, one might say you are dangerously attracted to him.

Maybe tonight is a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t be around him and wine. The combination oozes trouble, and you are not a troublemaker. You are certainly not a reckless person when you drink. You're fun and lighthearted and honest, a little too giggly sometimes, but never reckless. You don't plan on binge drinking, so you should be alright.

Unless your nerves get the best of you and you remain tongue-tied around the sweetness that is Steven Grant.

By the time you soothe you nerves, you are on your second glass of wine, politely engaging with the guests, with Miranda—bless her for starting this book club in the first place—and then you decide to indulge into some appetizers and look around her library. Man, she’s got a huge collection! She has a library in the living room and, from what Miranda herself says, three smaller ones in the three bedrooms.

She says it’s okay to take a look throughout the house—or should you call it a mansion because damn!—and so you look in the first bedroom. You are more interested in the library. The book collection is so damn impressive. She even has first editions of books that would be considered extinct nowadays and you are in absolute awe.

“Oh, hi.”

You turn around so violently you nearly pull a muscle in your neck and spill your drink. There’s Steven, holding his own glass of wine in one of the hands, a boyish grin on his face. You instantly feel your cheeks burn at the sight of him: he’s wearing black suit pants, a turtleneck sweater with the sleeves rolled up and his hair is so curly and luscious it almost makes you sigh.

“Hi,” you finally reply with a flustered smile. “Sorry, I didn’t realize anybody was gonna sneak off to look at books.”

“That’s my idea of a party to be honest.”

You both chuckle, and you can’t take your eyes off him. There’s simply something magnetizing about his presence, about the way he makes you feel just by being around you and that’s dangerous. This has the potential to be a fatal attraction and it’s scaring for all the reasons that it's exciting.

Steven approaches you, although visibly hesitant himself. You clear your throat in an attempt to diffuse your own tension. “But it is a great dinner party though,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “Everyone’s so nice.”

“They are, yeah.”

“The music’s nice too. The food is—“

“Nice too?”

You break into nervous laughter. “I’m babbling. I’m sorry. I tend to do that when I’m nervous.”

“That’s alright. It’s—quite endearing, really.”

Your eyes shoot up at him. Your cheeks burn by this point, and you're fairly certain he can see how red they are, too.

“But why are you nervous?” Steven asks and his voice is so sweet and filled with care that it's impossible to not melt.

“Um… this is not a conversation for a second glass of wine.”

“For a third glass maybe?”

Your eyes widen some more and you find yourself absolutely flabbergasted at the notion that this sweet, intelligent and introverted guy is being flirty right now.

He’s flirting with me.

He’s actually flirting with me.

“Maybe,” you decide to tease against your better judgment. “But I wouldn’t want to ruin my image by binge drinking tonight.”

“I was thinking about getting a third glass myself, so I doubt you’d ruin anything.”

It’s tempting. Too tempting.

You shouldn’t.

But he’s so close to you and he looks and smells so good it impairs your judgment. There is no judgment to be done though. You are feeling needier and more impatient than you have in a long time, and you can barely keep it together.

“If you’re having one, then fine,” you reluctantly agree. “But three is where I have to draw the line.”

Steven giggles. The sound is so youthful and pleasant it’s almost like it tickles your skin.

There’s a moment of hesitation and silence between the two of you as you both acknowledge the fact that you should probably head back downstairs, but you remain locked in some sort of trance looking at the books on the shelves, still nursing on your second glasses of wine and stealing glances at each other. The tension is so thick that you're starting to wonder whether a knife would be able to cut through it.

“Can I confess something to you?” you foolishly ask.

Steven offers a polite smile and a nod right next to you and you feel your heart racing.

“I wasn’t totally sure if I wanted to come tonight,” you muster up the courage to say.

“After what I can assume are a lot of dinner parties over the years, this one probably seems a bit dull.”

“No, it’s—“

“Nice?”

You both giggle and exchange a glare that’s filled with yearning. Oh god, the yearning is consuming, devouring from inside out, clawing with unbearable hunger.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “But I’d agree with you in the slightest. It’s just an ordinary dinner party, nothing fancy. And I am all for that. But... I’m glad you’re here tonight.”

Silence. You gulp, afraid to find his eyes this time around.

“I really like—“

No. Stop before you say something you’ll regret and scare him off.

“I really like talking to you,” you smile at him, and you are so relieved to see Steven smile as well. Watching him be so flustered is an absolute delight. “So you’re pretty much the big reason as to why I decided to come tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy the other members of the book club, but it’s just—“

“I was looking forward to seeing you tonight too.”

That shuts you up real quick. Your pulse has skyrocketed, and all you can do now is gaze practically shamelessly at this beautiful man, now in front of you. Your knees weaken, your yearning suppresses all other sentiments, and he is all that you can see. All that you want, the sole reason why you can scarcely think straight at the moment.

It’s a primal instinct, to want and to have, and to be had.

The more you look at him, breathless, the more you wonder if he feels like that too. He probably thinks in far more decent terms than you do because you can get a bit too dark on the inside to think straight and decent.

“I really enjoyed getting to know you over these past few weeks, to connect on a human level,” Steven continues. “I mean, who you are. And who you are is… really fucking spectacular.”

You haven’t heard him cuss before and you wouldn't have pegged him as the kind of guy who cusses, but it’s definitely doing something to you. Might be him, might be the wine, or it might be a combination of the both. At this point, it's futile to try to understand.

Tonight is shaping up to be quite the evening after all.

“I’m—not,” you smile flustered. “I try, but sometimes I—I go a little dark.”

“That's alright. Everyone does, don't they?"

You scoff. “How are you so open-minded and okay with the idea that someone is telling you upfront, ‘hey, I’m kind of a mess sometimes’? How are you so—so dreamy?”

Steven laughs, scratching his head, and you realize you might’ve made him a bit uncomfortable with your previous remark. But it’s a genuine question because how is he this dreamy?! Can he actually be the ideal man?

All you know is that Steven makes you feel things you haven’t felt since high school, if maybe ever. You haven’t felt anything this intense in years. It might actually rekindle your hope for the male species.

“I wouldn’t call myself that,” he giggles. “A couple of my former dates might disagree with you. I'm not actually a pro at dating."

“Yeah well, an ex might be bitter enough to think that way. But I do think you’re an amazing guy, and… I’m glad you’re here tonight.”

“I’m glad you’re here tonight.”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck. The way he says your name right after that sentence, your full first name, with that British accent sprinkled in, oh my God.

You discover, much to your dismay, that you are feeling things you haven’t felt in years. Carnivorous, urgent, tingling and prickling your skin and you're in imminent danger.

“So did you find what you came in here for?” Steven asks all of a sudden and just like that, when your eyes meet, you're a puddle.

Your heart’s thrumming in your ears, pounding away in your chest; so, so loudly you're afraid it might burst out for him to see it too. You haven’t felt this way in a long time, that much has been established; but this just seems incessant and over the top. You barely know him as a regular person and you just wonder… can you be this insanely attracted to someone you barely know?

“I think I did,” you respond eventually, your voice scratchy against your dry throat, like sand on paper. “Except now I’m debating… um… whether I should or should not have it.”

Steven takes a step closer to you, thus indirectly forcing you to look up at him and you swear you feel your knees buckle under the weight of this solitary glare. Then he clears his throat and stares at you, cheeks flushed and all.

“If you really want it, perhaps it means you should have it,” he says. “There should be no hesitation with the things you want.”

“What if—what if I’m not fit to have it? What if I do something to ruin it? Because this thing, it's—it's beautiful and sweet and kind and a lot of the time I'm not. What if when I inevitably hold it in my hands, I'll stain it?”

This would be a great time to claim this is a metaphor about a book on the shelf, but it isn’t. You know it, Steven knows it. There’s no need to pretend, even if no specific words are given.

“I suppose you have to take a chance and see what happens,” Steven says nearly breathless and to my shock, you see his eyes drop straight to your mouth. “It’s a gamble, as with most things.”

You unconsciously lick your lips and bite on your bottom one, and something changes in his eyes. You swear it fucking does. It can’t be just your imagination, however hormone-soaked it may be right now.

“Take Orpheus and Eurydice for instance,” he continues. “Their love was no gamble, no what if’s. They just knew it from the moment their eyes laid on each other. They knew they had to have each other.”

Okay, so citing one of the most infamous love stories of all time is not helping right now because you're really about to throw caution to the wind and live in the moment, for once in this damned life.

What repercussions would there be, anyway? You simply want to kiss him, that’s all; to kiss him on his cheeks, his nose, his lips, down his neck and down his whole body till he’s writhing beneath you and he’s a pleading, mumbling and sweaty mess. Pleading for the kind of release only you could give to him.

Okay, maybe some repercussions. And this isn’t the time or the place for any of that.

Shit, the image of a sweaty, pleading Steven haunts you now as you're met with his blown-out eyes, somehow still kind.

“That’s… I can’t argue against that,” you smile, way too flustered about the images running through your head. “Thank you for the wise words.”

“I have often been told I am somewhat of a wise man,” Steven jokes.

You chuckle. “You really are though. Um, Steven?”

You're not really sure what happens after you call out his name; all you know is that you pull him in by the wrist, our eyes locked in what seems like a pleading glare, both of us begging the other to move, to do something, anything, and then your body is pressed against the bookshelf, one large hand on the small of your back and the other in your hair, while a sweet mouth is a hot furnace on yours, pressing and touching relentlessly.

And you feel like you're straight up in heaven. You taste, see and feel heaven.

Christ, his lips are so soft, and yet the way he kisses is passionate, tender and ferocious all at once. It’s like he’s trying his hardest to let you know he’s gentle and caring but that he wants this so fucking much and the mixture, the entire idea in and of itself, has you absolutely feral. So much so that you kind of groan into his mouth, and that seems to spur him on. He pushes a bit of himself into you, and you're melting. You're melting and burning up and you never want to be apart from him, from any part of him.

You're left confused when you don’t feel his mouth on yours and oddly disappointed, but then you notice why he stopped. Miranda’s in the doorway, her hand on the knob, chuckling at you.

“My apologies,” she smiles at you. “Didn’t realize I was interrupting.”

“No, we were not—it’s not—“you start, losing the string of your own sentence as you manically lick your lips in what appears to be a feeble attempt at memorizing the taste of Steven's lips.

“If it’s urgent, the bedrooms are all free, and the bathroom’s stocked.”

You feel a rush of embarrassment flood you, and your cheeks are even redder than before.

“We weren’t planning on—on any of that,” Steven mumbles.

Miranda cocks an eyebrow at you, and you both feel like two teenagers being scolded—oddly enough. “Didn’t look like that from here. I was wondering how long it will take you two to finally get your act together. Enjoy the evening!”

With that, she leaves, and you feel even more determined to explain yourself, even if… really, there’s no reason to feel this way. You only shared one kiss, albeit a very heated one. Nothing else happened.

Could it have happened? If Miranda hadn’t walked in… would you have gone all the way?

You know you could have, with the way you felt so devoured and consumed by that kiss and by Steven himself.

Steven clears his throat, scratching the back of his head as he looks at you, his whole face red, just like his lips. Now that you’ve had a taste of his lips, of the way he can be when he wants something—someone—you feel feral, in an absolutely unhinged desire for more.

And it scares you as much as it thrills you.

"I'm really, really sorry," Steven apologizes.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I feel like I sort of lured you into this… bookish trap.”

And then something hits me. “Actually… no. I’m not sorry,” you correct yourself.

Steven seems surprised, only pleasantly. “I’m not sorry about this. We didn’t do anything bad, right? Unless the kiss was bad, in which case…”

He giggles, and he’s so damn sweet you could eat him up, spread him on a cracker.

Naked.

Okay babe, focus. Stay on topic.

“It was the stellar opposite of that,” Steven smiles reassuringly, though his eyes maintain that look in them that’s rather… feral as well.

“I’m not sorry about the kiss because… truth be told, I’ve been sort of… thinking about this for quite some time.”

“Yeah? Anything else you thought about?”

Oh shit, when he’s intentionally flirty is just so attractive you can barely hold yourself together in one piece.

“A lot of anything else,” you admit and gosh, how is it possible that your cheeks are burning even more?! “But this is a third glass of wine conversation. Or—maybe for another setting.”

Steven smiles, still flustered himself. His cheeks are rosy, slightly reddened, and it paints such a beautiful image. It is now that you realize he truly is beautiful: his chocolate brown eyes, long eyelashes, gorgeous hair, and simply the kind aura about him that makes you want to be around him at all times. He exudes safety and warmth and you have genuinely become frightened by how much you am into him already.

“Maybe that glass of wine isn’t such a good idea in the end,” Steven mutters affected.

“Oh? How come you changed your mind?”

“Full honesty?”

“I usually appreciate it very much.”

He leans back in, his eyes roaming your figure and your spine tickles with electricity. A hot and cold shiver passes through you; you tremble. You actually tremble. Holy shit.

“It’ll have quite an effect on me and I might want to take Miranda’s advice from before. Get on with what we started.”

Nothing but a faint oh leaves your mouth; and that’s barely the word itself, just a gust of wind that resembles the word oh, because your brain cannot compute anything at the moment besides what he just said.

And what he said is… well.

“And that would not be the gentleman-y thing to do,” he carries on, and his face is so flustered and yet riddled with something akin to neediness that your head starts spinning again.

Of course he wants to do gentleman-y things. Of course. How on brand for someone such as Steven Grant.

But oh how much you'd love to tell him—and show him—that he can easily do the opposite of that.

You can’t get the sensation of his lips pressed against yours out of your mind. You can’t get his taste out from your lips or your mind. It’s like he’s infiltrated far below the skin, straight into your bloodstream, swimming in your veins, becoming one with your entire system, and you find yourself absolutely speechless. You have genuinely no idea what to tell him or what to reply to him, so you kind of just stare at him in disbelief whilst also wishing for more, almost begging through that single stare, begging him to do anything remotely close to that kiss. Any touch right now would send you into a pleasurable orbit, even a breath in your direction would set your whole body on fire, and as you're thinking this, you come to realize maybe it isn’t such a good idea.

After all, you're still at the dinner party where loads of other people are and something like this, with someone as special as Steven, requires to be in a very intimate setting.

“Is there ever a time when you don’t think of the gentleman-y thing to do?” you chuckle and immediately face palm yourself mentally. Why would you so shamelessly pose such a flirty question when both your minds are in very fragile states right now?

Good god, get a grip over yourself, woman.

“Right now would be a very solid example,” he replies and you could so easily faint right now knowing that those words actually came out of his mouth. “But we can’t always give into our very first urges, can we? Otherwise it’d be so much chaos in this already chaotic world.”

Your jaw slightly drops as you look at him in awe. “You are... impossibly poetic.”

Steven chuckles, a soulful and hearty sound, and to know you are capable of rising such crystalline sounds from him, from such a beautiful man, it means so much to you.

“I just say what I think, nothing to it,” he keeps laughing.

“You’re really making things difficult right now, you know?”

“How so?”

“Well… let’s just say I have half a mind to surrender to that very first urge regardless of what might happen.”

“Kind of an unreliable narrator that urge, isn’t it? Saying it wants things, and it wants things badly, but rationality knows that if we do give into it, into that lust, we also become unreliable in a way.”

Your jaw drops further, and you shake my head. “Steven, you have got to stop with this, seriously. You’re making things very hard for me right now.”

“Sorry! I'm sorry.”

But he keeps laughing and laughing, even as he allows you to leave the room first and leads you back into the kitchen where we end up having a glass of water and talking about literature for another hour.

And around midnight, you arrive at the startling realization that you might be falling in love already.

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant x female reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fic #steven grant fluff #steven grant smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac fic #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic

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mixelation · 4 months

Text

reborn au, tori POV. lead up to a mysterious ANBU social lmao

“Wait,” Tori said, sitting up from where she’d sprawled out on the picnic blanket. “ANBU parties are real?”

“They’re boring,” Itachi told her, not even looking back at her as he made another throw with a kunai. He tossed a second one at it to redirect it at a new angle that would have been otherwise impossible to throw it at. As usual, he hit the bullseye. The target was shoved into the hollow of tree and angled downward; it was an impressive shot.

“This one will be fun,” Shisui promised. “I told you. I’ll be there.”

Itachi tilted his head back, considering.

“I want to go,” Tori said, now sitting up fully. She thought “exclusive ANBU parties” were like… dumb rumors for people who desperately wanted ANBU to be cool. She was shocked this was a real thing ANBU actually did. But also, now that she was forced to accept they were real, she bet they were indeed incredibly boring, or at least deeply weird. She had to see for herself.

“I’m not inviting you,” Shisui replied. “You’re not ANBU.”

“Itachi will invite me,” Tori decided. They went to social events as a couple now. That was kind of part of their whole deal.

Shisui rolled his eyes. “Itachi can’t invite you,” he said. “It’s an ANBU event, not an ANBU-and-friends event.”

“I don’t see who would stop me,” Itachi said, moving slightly to the left so he could try his throw from an even weirder angle. “A few non-ANBU seem to sneak in every time anyway.”

Shisui clicked his tongue.

“Why are you being such a killjoy?” Tori asked Shisui, annoyed. “You’re the one who crashed our date about this.”

“Date…?” Shisui said. “I showed up and Itachi was training and you were reading porn.”

“This is related to the porn,” Itachi said, throwing his kunai. This time he only hit the edge of the bullseye. He frowned.

“How is it…” Shisui started, then shook his head like he didn’t want to know. Itachi moved further away to make his throw even harder. “Anyway, my point is. It’ll be fun, even if Tori gets denied at the door.”

“I won’t be,” Tori said, dismissive. “They want Itachi there, right?”

Shisui’s lips thinned, but he did have a counter argument. Itachi was, to the confusion of everyone who knew him, considered sort of a big deal in most circles. Even though she was objectively correct. Tori found Shisui’s lack of argument disappointing. She already had “then I’ll convince Kakashi it would be funny, and then no force on this earth will be able to stop us” lined up and waiting. She loved pulling that one. It could make everyone from Shisui to the Hokage anxious in two seconds flat.

Itachi’s kunai finally missed.

“Here,” he said, finally turning to Tori. “This is an actual impossible shot.”

Tori hopped to her feet and stood where Itachi indicated. Then she chucked her kunai in the vague direction of the target. It sailed too low, then abruptly changed direction mid-air and slammed point-first into the target’s bullseye.

Shisui’s eyes widened.

“See?” Tori said to Itachi. “The ‘fuinjutsu can only guide a kunai as well as the wielder can throw it’ thing is fake news. Even a civilian could have done that.”

She’d had to mark up the target and her kunai with like five different seals each, which made this particular maneuver basically useless in actual combat, but the scene in the book had been about carnival tricks anyway. Also, the confused look on Shisui’s face was hilarious. She wasn’t going to explain to him what was going on.

Itachi, being a traitor, opened his mouth and immediately explained what was going on.

“It did start as a picnic,” Itachi concluded of his explanation of their “date.” Halfway through lunch, Itachi had objected to the passage of Icha Icha Tori had read out loud as an actually impossible kunai throw, even though Tori’s point was that you totally could make an impossible shot by carefully applied fuinjutsu.

If Shisui thought any of Itachi’s explanation was weird, he didn’t comment on it. This was basically the only thing Tori liked about Shisui: he could listen to Itachi’s insane comments and not even bat an eye.

Shisui stayed around a little longer, not even remotely ashamed that he’d crashed what was ostensibly a private moment. The weather was gorgeous, which was why they’d picked a picnic instead of something more public, and their spot along the river was good for swimming. Shisui pulled off his uniform and did a running jump into the river. Tori watched Itachi stiffen as he hit the water and then relax when his head appeared again, alive and well and laughing.

“You should go in too,” Tori told him. “I’ll be there in a second. I want to finish this chapter.”

They abandoned the river when a group of screaming Academy students showed up. Tori toweled dry, pondering if it would look weird if she invited Deidara to come back later that day.

“Don’t you need to be practicing your aim more?” Itachi asked her while he gathered up their kunai. “Not just making elaborate seals to cheat?”

Tori blanched. “You don’t have to bring that up now,” she said. Not in front of Shisui.

“What’s wrong with your aim?” Shisui asked, teasing. “Is it actually bad, or have you accidentally fallen victim to the Itachi-adjusted rating system?”

“Please,” Tori replied. “We were genin together. Itachi hasn’t shut up about my aim since I was twelve. I’m fine; he’s just insane.”

“She has a missive from the Hokage,” Itachi said blandly.

“Itachi,” Tori hissed.

“Really?” Shisui asked. “Huh. How’d that happen?”

It wasn’t uncommon to get an official assignment from the Hokage’s office to foster a specific skill to benefit the village. But usually it was something unique: training a bloodline limit, developing a combat style that was rare or specially valuable, practice with an unusual weapon, stuff like that. “Practice with kunai” was a very weird thing to get a Hokage-level missive for; it was more like something a captain would tell a subordinate.

Also, given that Tori was a Special Jounin, it was an embarrassing thing to pitch as a skill she had to work on. That was the type of order you gave to a new genin, or a chunin that’d spent too many days doing desk work.

Her kunai skills were perfectly on par for her rank, thank you very much. It was just that Itachi was a freaky genius whose favorite hobby was doing trickshots, and his standards were insane. Minato just wanted her to push herself from good to exceptional, not just with standard kunai but with specialized ones, because she was learning Hiraishin and he wanted her to be able to use it the way he did.

Tori wasn’t sure she was going to just copy him, once she had the actual jutsu mastered. It didn’t really feel like her style. But then again, she almost never thought about how to apply her research and jutsu to combat until she was actively staring a threat in the face, and being able to slap a seal onto a kunai and throw it wherever she wanted was undeniably a vital skill. She would do the extra practice without complaint.

But Itachi didn’t have to run his mouth about it!

They walked back to the village proper together, taking the windy foot trail rather than hopping into the trees. A lazy day, indeed.

“I’m going to walk Tori home,” Itachi said once they hit the paved streets of Konoha. He very pointedly took Tori’s hand.

“Sure,” Shisui said. “See you tomorrow night?”

“He’ll be there,” Tori promised.

Shisui, she would begrudgingly admit, was an extremely charismatic and friendly guy that most people fell in love with on sight. But, in her experience, most ANBU she’d meet were anti-social weirdos with personalities like burnt toast. She absolutely needed to see what their weird-ass parties were like. For science.

Itachi dropped her hand the second Shisui was out of sight. It wasn’t that they didn’t like each other; it was just that neither of them really saw the point in hand-holding. Tori didn’t like how doing it for more than a couple minutes made her palm sweaty, and Itachi had more than once said something wild like, We would mutually improve our defensive capabilities with both hands free.

Plenty of couples didn’t hold hands, Tori was sure. It was just very important to Itachi to be carrying a metaphorical sign that said, I AM TAKEN. DO NOT APPROACH.

“It would be convenient if you did get denied at the door,” Itachi said conversationally. “Then we could leave. If we did it together, we’d seem united without doing any real work.”

“But I want to go,” Tori said. “I want to study your little ANBU guys under a microscope, like a petri dish of amoebas.”

“Don’t tell them that,” Itachi said, a tiny little smile cracking over his face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you special treatment,” Tori said. “I’d tag my Itachi-amoeba with red fluorescent protein.”

Itachi snorted with amusement.

#my writing #reborn au

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jungshookz · 10 months

Text

apparently y/n's really good with toddlers and jimin thinks it's adorable

➺ pairing; balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n

➺ genre; alright balletteacher!jimin stans since the last update was.,,. uh,., anyway here’s some pre-breakupfluff!! actually idk if this is going to make u guys more sad knowing how that last drabble ended but this one is super cute so at least you have that <3 i’m FINALLY appeasing u with balletteacher!jimin content

➺ wordcount; 2.3k

➺ summary; all the teeny ballerinas seem to gravitate towards y/n for some reason and it’s taking everything within jimin to not spend the entire class just watching her fondly.

➺ what to expect; “oops, i dropt my swipper again.”

»»————- 🧸 ————-««

when jimin first got the email from saying that he had to take over the toddler’s ballet class for a day because the teacher for that class called in sick at the very last minute and he was the only one whose schedule lined up perfectly with the toddler’s class, needless to say, he wasn’t very happy

it’s not that he hates children or anything horrible like that (he really doesn’t understand people who say that they hate children) — don’t get him wrong, he loves when random babies wave at him on the street and he’ll even go as far as to make a face at them if their parents aren’t watching — it’s just that he’s literally never taught a toddler ballet class before so he doesn’t even know where to start… and he also doesn’t know how far he can push them before he’s being accused of being a horrible, mean teacher

though it would be fairly impressive on his end if they were able to do grand jetés by the end of class

“i’m so happy we get to play with toddlers all day!” lisa squeals, plopping herself down next to you as you continue your morning stretches in front of the mirror, “aren’t you excited??”

“i think it’ll be fun!” you smile, nodding in agreement before shrugging, “i’m a little nervous because i literally have never interacted with a child other than my little cousins, and they’re like eight to nine years old now, so i’m out of practice…”

“it’s okay, y/n,” you feel a harsh pat on your shoulder and you look up to see seulgi smiling sweetly at you, “not all of us can be good at everything. you keep the class humble.”

“very funny, seulgi.” you grumble, rolling your eyes before turning to look back at lisa, “i’m just glad we kinda get a day off because we have to help mr. park teach the toddlers. i don’t know about you but i am not in the mood to do any pirouettes this morning.” you huff, adjusting your leg warmers before checking out your reflection in the mirror to make sure you look okay

you also feel a little groggy because you didn’t get much sleep last night

you spent the night at jimin’s and then he drove you back to your place early (because lisa texted and said she’d come over in the morning to have breakfast with you before the two of you zipped over to the studio so you had to go home otherwise she’d be wondering where the hell else you’d be)

“do you think i should’ve worn the sheep-patterned leg warmers instead? i feel like toddlers would be more receptive to sheeps-“ for some reason you feel like you’re trying to impress the toddlers even though they probably don’t even know what leg warmers are and even if they did they couldn’t care less about them

you were going to wear your sweatpants but you got a new pair of leg warmers and you wanted to show them off (they’re baby pink with little black bows on the back of them), so you decided to pair them with your black leotard, a matching black wrap cardigan, and your stockings of course

“ah, i just love kids,” lisa sighs, getting up from the ground as you get up as well before looping her arm with yours, “and i don’t know about you, but seeing mr. park interact with kids is also something that i’m very much looking forward to.”

you feel a wide grin growing on your face at the reminder that yes, you’re finally going to see jimin interacting with cute little kids and you remind yourself to keep it cool

you and jimin only started dating a few weeks ago and you don’t want to scare him off by getting all baby crazy

you don’t even know if jimin wants kids

…

does he want kids?

and if he does, would he want to have them with you? because you certainly wouldn’t mind carrying his beautiful children and-

“oh my god, they’re so cute!”

the room erupts into high pitched coos and squeals when the toddlers, well, toddle into the room, all of them dressed in matching baby pink cardigans and leotards and chiffon skirts with stockings on their little legs and neat little slicked back buns on their little heads and it doesn’t take long for you to fall in love with all of them because oh my god they’re so cute and you just want to eat their chubby little cheekies and gobble them up and rRRaAWOOF-

“ladies, here are our little guests for the day,” jimin laughs lightly, shutting the door behind him quietly as he gently nudges the little ones towards the group like a herd of little baby sheep, “there are twenty-four of them and twelve of you, so if you could each take two for the day, that would be wonderful- oh!” jimin pauses when he accidentally bumps into one of the girls and he reaches down to pat her head, “sorry honey, mr. park is a little clumsy today and you’re just so small-“

“oh god, i can’t take it-“ lisa groans quietly, holding a hand over her mouth as she muffles a squeal and starts to bounce on the balls of her feet excitedly, “i can’t take it i can’t take it i can’t take it that is so stinking cute-“

“what are we supposed to do, do we just grab two random ones and go?” seulgi asks with a frown and you can’t help but snort because that is such a seulgi thing to ask

“don’t grab two of them and go, this isn’t a drive through-“ you chuckle, watching as the other girls disperse into the crowd of teeny ballereenies to collect their two for the day, “you just have to go and see which ones vibe with you, i think. which might be hard for you.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well, all children know that they need to stay away from the wicked witch of the west- OW-“ you yelp when seulgi delivers a hard punch to your arm before taking off

it’s only in that moment you notice one of the little girls in the back, wide-eyed and holding onto both her slippers, looking as lost as ever

she stumbles forward as the other girls start shuffling forwards slightly, all the toddlers clearly a little intimidated by all of you

you make your way over to her and she immediately looks up at you, her lips parting slightly

“hi! do you need some help with your slippers?” you crouch down so that you’re eye-level with her and she nods shyly before averting her gaze, “okay, i can help you. i’m y/n. what’s your name?” you stand back up before holding your hand out for her and she wraps her hand around two of your fingers, trailing behind you as you lead her to a free corner in the room

“mia.”

“mia’s a very pretty name,” you smile, looking down at her (from your angle, you can see her little cheeks protruding out slightly and it’s just so cute)

“i dropt my swipper.” mia suddenly stops in her tracks and you stop as well, letting her bend down to pick up her slipper only for the other one to fall onto the ground, “oops, i dropt my swipper again.”

you and lisa make eye contact from across the room and she pushes her bottom lip out in a pout before scrunching her face and putting a hand over her chest and you make the same expression in return to tell her that oh my god, i know, right?!

“alright, miss mia, do you wanna sit down for me?” you hum, sitting down cross-legged before patting your lap, “it’ll be easier for me to put your slippers on if you’re sitting.”

mia nods before plopping herself down on your lap and you nearly let out a coo when you notice how teeny weeny her slippers are

they’re just so cute! and they’re basically the size of your hand!!!!!!

“how old are you, mia?” you ask, taking her slippers from her before lifting one of her chubby little legs up so you can put a slipper on

“thwee.” she holds four fingers up and you giggle, reaching over to put one of them down for her, “i’m thwee.” she kicks her legs slightly, sticking the one with the slipper up into the air before wiggling her toes

»»————- 🧸 ————-««

jimin smiles to himself as he looks around the room, feeling weirdly proud at how well all of you are looking after the little ones even though his teaching has nothing to do with how good you guys are with kids

he started the class off with a few warm-up exercises and was very impressed at how well the little girls followed his lead (to be honest he’s already picked out the ones that would survive in his class when they’re older, and it’s definitely not the one that started twirling around in ditzy, uncoordinated circles when he asked everyone to get into third position), and it’s only been about twenty minutes but according to the schedule given to him, they take ten minute breaks every twenty minutes which seems a little too lax for his liking, but then again — he’s not a teacher for toddlers, so who is he to say what’s right and what’s wrong?

and he has to admit that it was hard to not watch you the entire time you were guiding your girls and showing them how to do everything properly (“demi-plie, mia! keep your back straight just like me…”)

at first he was going to tell you off because you were kneeled on the ground while he was teaching up front but then he realized you were only doing it so you could help the little ones with positioning their feet, and not to mention, you weren’t just helping your own two ballereenies, you were helping whichever ones were around you which was just… so nice to see

and perhaps the others will suspect him of favouritism because he’s pretty sure lisa caught him staring fondly at you at one point but it’s not like anyone would ever confront him about it so he’s really not too worried

“and at home, i- i do- um, i do, um, dance evewywhere and my favouwite- favouwite song is wet it go from fwozen because anna and elsa-“

“speaking of let it go- emma, you better let go of my bun before you yank my hair off my head!”

jimin’s ears perk up in interest when he hears your voice among the many voices and squeals and giggles in the room and he turns around, eyes scanning the room until he finally lands on you to see you surrounded by six of the baby ballerinas

you’ve got one of them sitting on your lap with her hand buried in a pack of animal crackers (none of them brought snacks with them so he’s assuming those came from you), one of them with their arms slung over you from behind and her cheek pressed to your shoulder, three of them sitting cross-legged around you, and the last one prancing around you chatting away excitedly

you wrap your arm securely around the one sitting on your lap, reaching down to smooth some of her hair back before leaning over a little to look at her and ask if she’s alright, and she nods in response before holding a cracker up for you to take

jimin feels his heart skip a beat at the adorable sight because he was certainly not aware of how good you are with children

he can’t help but chuckle when he notices you showing off your leg warmers off

so cute

so, so cute

his eyes widen when you look up and immediately lock gazes with him only for you to wave at him shyly before returning your attention to the girls after jimin returns a smile and a wave of his own

you and y/n would make a really cute baby, the intrusive voice in his head tells him as his arm drops back to his side, and jimin finds his cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of a teeny little y/n trailing behind him like a little duckling

he could dress her up in her ballet clothes and put bows in her hair and train her to become the best ballerina the world has ever seen and she’d have your hair and eyes and his nose and mouth and she’d be so sweet and kind like you but strong and tenacious like him

and not to sound like a hormonal boy or anything but the process of baby-making seems like it’d be very fun

…

“mr. park, y/n’s stealing all the kids!” jimin looks over when he hears seulgi whining and he resists the urge to snort at how huffy she’s being, “i took two of them like you told us to but all of them are like, gravitating towards y/n for some reason-“

“well, i guess there’s just something about y/n that they like, seulgi.” jimin responds with a shrug, keeping his eyes glued on you with a fond smile twitching at the corner of his mouth

🎙️ ask y/n where she gets her leg warmers (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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a-chaotically-small-lunta · 1 month

Text

Okay hear me out. Imagine a story where a scientist is leading a tour of kids through his lab, showing off all the inventions that will hopefully one day help humanity! In this tour is his son, who is very excited to be with his dad at his job, while also technically going to school? Win Win!! His dad has been a bit overprotective of him, but he sort of enjoys the attention. Although he isn’t too keen on his classmates who bully (perhaps one of the bullies is his brother or something) him for it, still poking and teasing him during the tour.

After awhile the dad shows off a portal machine which can open a portal to a whole new world, or at least that’s what they think it leads to anyway. The lab hasn’t fully tested it and is making a robot to send in first. The kids all ask if they can see it and the science team agrees as long as no one goes over the rails towards the portal, cause it seems to have a suction. (You can see where this is going I bet) The science team flips on the machine and the portal lights up, and while everyone is distracted the bully decides to have some fun, whispering into the Scientist kid’s ear something like “Maybe you’ll see your mom over there” or “Perhaps I should just take out trash like you. You’re just wasting dad’s time anyway” before the kid can really process what happens he is pushed over the rail into the portal, disappearing. The machine shuts off with a clunk and the dad is pissed. He is shouting at the bully about how stupid that was and how they have no idea if it’s even life sustainable on the other side! A guard nearby says that the kid is in real serious trouble for so many reasons, only for the dad to chime in that the bully better hope his kid is alive cause if he isn’t, he’ll get a murder charge. The bully explains he didn’t mean to only for most of the class saying that the bully always does this and one student even repeats what he said before he pushed the kid in. They decide to end the tour early and send everyone home, while the bully is escorted out by the guards and won’t be going home soon.

The science team asks what they’re gonna do and the dad says they’re gonna make something. Perhaps a suit or vehicle so that he can go into the portal and find his son. The team nods and quickly gets to work, they know it’ll take more than a few weeks, but maybe if they are lucky the kid will be okay, and maybe they can get it done faster.

Meanwhile, the kid flies through the portal and lands on a soft ground. Panicking he sits up and looks around, only to notice he’s on a huge bed. The portal sent him to a world that was way bigger than his own. Fear strikes him as he realizes where there is a big bed, there’s a big person. He’s right when he looks over across the room and sees a huge person sitting at a desk mumbling to themself. He’s frozen in fear and can’t move, even when the person swings around from their chair and walks over to their bed only to pause and stare at him.

The giant just stared at him, confused as to why there is a tiny child in their bed. They swear they didn’t put them there and are about to say something when the kid just burst out crying and the giant panicked. They quickly kneel by their bed and try to hush the child and tell them that it’s okay. The child keeps sobbing and soft hiccups can be heard, but eventually the kid quiets down a bit. The giant carefully asks how the kid got there, and the boy answers between sobs. The giant listens and the boy eventually bursts into tears again, crying out that they want their dad. The giant gently scoops them up, and holds them close saying “hey, hey, it’s going to be alright. You said your dad was a scientist…sooo he must have seen you get pushed in. I bet he’s trying to get back to you, he just has to figure out how to.” The kid sniffles and asks if the giant really believes that and they nod. They then reassure the kid that they won’t hurt them and that they’ll watch and care for them, until their dad comes to save them. The boy nods and the giant pauses and asks if he likes movies. The boy says yes and that he likes action like movies. The giant then decides that maybe they could watch a movie, to help the boy calm down, they’ll even let the kid choose the movie. He gets a little excited over this and the two of them go and do exactly that. Through this we learn that the worlds are almost identical, but some things are changed like Superman is Aceman, and Ice Cream is Frost Gel. All still the same thing, just named differently, which both the giant and boy find amusing.

The boy stays with the giant for little over a week, getting used to the large surroundings and the movements of the giant. The giant provides a small house to the boy, made of a box and Legos, which the boy had fun playing with and designing that part of the little home. In the other world the dad and his team finally finished the suit. It was built to survive space, acid, lava, and other possibilities. It had a backpack built into the back that held food rations, weapons, tools, and other things for survival. There was also the case, which contained all the parts for a small return portal back home. Which had been tested multiple times….just not cross dimensionally. The suit also had a built in camera that would send live video feed back to the team while the dad, who wanted to be the one who went through, was over there looking for his son. He’d also do some science stuff, like take samples and explore a bit.

The day finally arrives and the dad walks through the portal. He finds himself behind a large plush wall, and he starts to walk around it when he hears booming voices. Meanwhile the giant is laying in bed scrolling through their phone. The kid is sleeping in their little house for a quick nap. Then out of the corner of their eye they see something move out from behind their pillow. The dad looks up and catches the giant’s eye glancing at him. He freezes, and then grabs a weapon from the bag. This causes the giant to freak out and quickly flop out of their bed and onto the floor. The dad runs over and, using the mic in his suit, shouts “WHERE IS HE?!?!?” The giant, confused as hell, asks that the “crazy living action figure dude” please put down the weapon, while also asking what he means. The dad just shouts “IF YOU DID ANYTHING TO HIM I SWEAR I’LL..” the threat falls from his lips as the giant rises above him and cautiously walks over to the little house. They open the top and reach in, carefully waking the boy up and whispering that they have a surprise. The dad, still in a fighting stance, watches as the giant approaches with something in their hands. He’s about to fight, when the giant opens their hands and reveals his son, causing him to freeze. The boy pauses, not recognizing him cause of the suit, but once the dad rips the helmet off, the kid jumps off the giants hand and rushes to embrace his dad.

Both the kid and the dad just tightly hold onto each other as the giant just smiles softly, watching them. They then comment how much of a strong and loving dad the kid has and how the dad has such a brave and smart son. They both look up at the giant, who gives them a sweet smile. The dad explains they can go back home and the son is excited to tell his dad everything he learned about the place. The giant asks if there is anything they can do to help, which the dad asks if there is a safe place to setup a portal device somewhere that isn’t, well, a bed. The giant nods, and offers their hand to the pair. The son quickly hops on and the dad, carefully steps on after a bit of encouragement from his son. The giant takes them to their desk and says they can set it up in the free space near the wall.

After some time the portal is up and running and the dad has some samples, including a hair from the giant, and the small pair is ready to go home. The giant remarks that they’ll probably be seeing more of the tiny people, but says that they are welcome to visit. The boy hugs the giants hand and thanks them for taking care of them. The dad also thanks them for watching over his son, and says that he’s glad that the giant was the one to find his son. They take their leave and the story comes out in their world about what happens. The bully is still charged for some things, mostly messing with official government science stuff, but everything seems fine in the end. Plus the boy made an amazing friend, and the dad found someone he can trust to watch his son.

Anyway, basically what if a portal led to a giant world similar to our own, but it was discovered because some kids decided to mess with a kid. Resulting in the kid getting lost in that world, having to wait to be found or find a way back themself?

#g/t #gt #gianttiny #giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t idea #g/t ideas #g/t thoughts #g/t thought #g/t story idea #I think it would be interesting to find a whole new world filled with giants #although if I found a tiny crying child in my bed I’d probably freak out #I’d have to calm them down and try and figure out how they got here and whether or not they were always tiny #it would be 100% worse if they happened to be from the same universe and the portal just shrunk them and sent them somewhere random #especially if you see the missing posters and think ‘wait I have them…how am I gonna explain their size?!?!?’#but if they’re from another world it’s more ‘oh okay. just smaller universe..okay okay…let’s figure out dimension travel then…I guess!!!’#either way I’d comfort them and definitely help or try and help them get back home #I’d just make sure that they were okay and watch over them…go all mama bear mode I guess haha #also sorry this got long and is basically a short story written shorter…a shrunken story hehehe

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blasphemecel · 3 months

Text

Michael Kaiser — On Your Knees

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.9k TYPE: Humor, Teasing, ERM I think y/n and kaiser might like each other 🤓 WARNING: Suggestive sorry (flirting is only verbal but explicit at times)

Kaiser always looks alright with his hair wet. Not, like, stunning or anything, but passable. Then you know it’ll start standing up in weird ways after it dries a little and he’ll ask Ness to help him with it — which, embarrassing, by the way.

But anyway. You wanted to check out the communal bath after you took a shower, figured you’d be alone because it was already bordering on late, and Kaiser followed you because why wouldn’t he. Not like you value your peace and solitude or anything. He can be such a pest sometimes.

You were telling him what Isagi told you — it’s called a sento and apparently it’s different from the more popular onsen — and he said you weren’t ‘worldly’ and that you weren’t ‘impressing him’ and then some more about how ‘everyone knows this.’ Shithead. You should spit in his breakfast tomorrow, if you remember.

Well, you like sitting in the bath, at least, so you’re not too sour right now. Even Kaiser being right next to you can’t ruin it.

“I like this Raichi guy,” you say.

Kaiser shakes his head a little to show you he disapproves. “Don’t tell me you mingle with them. Also, the guy’s always benched. He’s second-rate.”

“No, listen, he was telling me about this sexy soccer motto he has. I really wanna know what it’s about.”

“You’re embarrassing. If you’re in my entourage, you should act like it.”

“Dude, you’re just mad at Isagi ‘cause he was trending on football twitter more than you were that day,” you say.

“I’m not!”

Very persuasive argument coming from him here. It’ll take a lot out of you to take it apart. He’s fuming about it, too. Maybe it’s not so bad Kaiser came along if you can poke fun at him.

“I don’t know why you’re the favorite on the team, anyway,” you say. “They all die over your corny tattoo and not to mention how much you love showing it off. Not cool at all.”

“You wish you were me. Now you’re being jealous because no one likes you, and it’s making you look even uglier than usual,” says Kaiser, seeming to believe himself if the smug look on his face is anything to go by.

“I mean, I had a girlfriend till recently, you know.” Kaiser rolls his eyes, but you ignore him. He’s always doing this, pretending he doesn’t want to hear you. “She had this botched blue dye job and said things like ‘pussy power,’ with the crystals in her room and the tarot cards and all.”

“Yeah? Sounds great. Did you pick her up after a match, loser?”

You click your tongue and wag your finger at him just to be annoying. “No, I don’t fool around with fans. Seems more like your forte.”

He flicks the offending finger away. “I’ve never done that, you slanderous pig.”

“No, but listen, she didn’t care about football at all. She didn’t even know what a scissor kick is. Ooh, she drove me wild.” You sing the last part, looking up at the ceiling fondly as if you’re recalling a warm memory.

Kaiser narrows his eyes at you, frowning. “You’re one strange individual.” And what a pompous way to put it.

“But anyway, wanna know what kinda tattoo I’d get?”

“I seriously don’t care.”

“A skull with two guns. Hard as fuck.”

“You’re so lame. It’s appalling, and also probably why you got dumped.”

He’s taking the tattoo thing seriously. At least seriously enough to insult you over it. He’s even snickering at you in amusement. His face is always, how can you put it… snide, but he does look a touch more evil when he starts grinning and shit. What a hoot, though. Really.

“Nah, there was this guy. He wore suspenders with plaid polos and these little sweaters over them. They were sustainable. Sustainable. Can you believe it? Sustainable! I didn’t stand a chance.” You poke him on the neck, already distracted from what you were rambling about. Kaiser is going to bring up your low attention span soon, you can smell it on him. It doesn’t take any effort to reach out, though, what with him sitting so close next to you. “This isn’t such a bad spot for a tattoo, actually. I don’t know, maybe you were onto something.”

“Paws off,” he says, swatting you away like a bug. A pedestrian bug, probably, at least in his imagination. “You really wanna fondle me that badly, you’ll use any excuse to do so?”

“Paws!” you repeat, clapping. “You’re hysterical.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes again. He seems to like to do that a lot, at least in your presence. If there was such a thing as competitive eye-rolling, you wager he’d be good at it, maybe even better than he is at football.

“No, but listen-”

“God, I hate it when you say that,” he interrupts with a groan, then contradicts himself by also swinging an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer just to yawn in your face with great exaggeration. The water is way too hot for this nonsense, so you push him away. “Because I never want to listen to you.”

“You’re crazy. Insane. It’s super clinical. Like, really.”

“Yes, I’m sure, unlike me, you’d pass a psychiatric evaluation because I’m crazy and you aren’t. Of course.”

“Imagine-”

“Can you stop topic-hopping?” Kaiser asks, annoyed. See, you knew he’d bring it up. “Does your head ever hurt with how much bullshit goes through it?”

You shush him. He scowls at you like you’re some mold growing in the bath, but you disregard his expression of disdain. “Imagine you’re having a nice day, I don’t know, at practice. Then I barge in with all of my asshole glory, right, and I walk up to you, and for no reason, I say, ‘On your knees,’ instead of greeting you. Isn’t that kinda deranged?”

Kaiser stares at you. To his credit, he’s decent at maintaining a poker face, but once he’s embarrassed, there’s no hiding it, no going back. Because no matter how much he does his usual male posturing or whatever it’s called, his face is all red, the blush even going up to his ears, mouth wavering the slightest bit. “W-What? In your dreams.”

“Oh, do you like getting bossed around or something?” you ask with the sensitivity of a numb toe. “That’s so pathetic.”

It’s quite the spectacle when his skin somehow becomes even more flush. Sick of your leering, maybe, Kaiser whips around, albeit not all the way, and covers his cheek with his hand while peering at you through his fingers. Finally, he decrees, “You suck,” with too much authority.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Forget about me, though. In that situation, do you spit or do you swallow?”

It’s unclear whether you’re getting any gratification out of this besides the satisfaction of flustering him, but you smile in amusement regardless. As if you care about Kaiser sitting there, looking all pretty and nervous because of some nonsense you’d been spewing. Not like you’re crazy about him or anything. That’d be ridiculous. You couldn’t be more unfazed if you tried.

You grab your towel with what you’d call impressive swiftness, then turn around and stand, covering yourself before preparing to go on your merry way. Kaiser pulls you back by the ankle, trying to trip you or something, the menace. Hilarious guy, really.

He is staring up at you in this petulant sort of way, grabbing onto his own towel with his other hand. “Why are you leaving so soon?” he asks, sounding peeved, as if you haven’t been here with him for an unreasonable amount of time already.

“I thought I should give you some privacy since you’re all hot and bothered now,” you say (with this douchebag laugh you have for situations like these, where you’re being a douchebag — self-explanatory), stepping out of his grip. Then you try to imitate his voice, but more high-pitched, accompanying your performance with a few vulgar hand gestures. “Oh, [Y/n], you slanderous pig! I think that’s what you’d sound like.”

“You’re such a lowlife,” he says, before all but leaping out of the bath and trying to maim you right here on the spot, and the only thing to save you from your demise is that he gets lightheaded and almost faints immediately after.

You reach out to pull him up and keep him steady, holding him by the arms. “You can’t be jumping out of the bath like that, man, come on.”

The lack of response concerns you, but after a while, Kaiser gathers his wits enough to say, “I’m going to make you slip, and I’ll be praying you split your head open.”

You burst out laughing. “Do it, then. You don’t have it in you, do you?”

Instead of doing as he promised to retaliate to your provocation, he settles for letting go of you and glaring, before clutching the side of his head and going still again. If there was any medical wing in this goddamn football contraption, maybe you would’ve taken him, but alas. At least you don’t need to worry about Kaiser too much since he eventually concedes and holds onto your arm for support.

The sight of you two stumbling around towards the changing room is probably comedic — uncoordinated as hell, covering yourselves with these flimsy little towels, using the hands not clutching at the other.

“You’re supposed to drink a lot of water before getting in,” you say.

“It’s your fault! You didn’t warn me we were going.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you weren’t invited. Jeez.”

“Oh, whatever.”

You return the tiny towel to the basket, swapping it for a bigger one and making quick work of drying yourself. You’re slipping on your shirt when you ask, “Is your head all right now?”

“I’m fine.”

When you turn around to judge whether he’s being truthful or not, he’s dabbing himself in a manner which is way more laborious, examining his reflection in the mirror as if he’s in some slow motion commercial where the camera will capture a conspicuous water droplet falling down his neck, admiring his jaw from different angles. He makes you sick sometimes.

“I’m not gonna wait for you to finish checking yourself out.”

He shoos you away with a dismissive wave of his hand. Unlike his, your actions most often align with your words, though, so you do walk out of the door. You’re not even ten steps in when Kaiser reappears, now magically dressed.

“Stop rushing,” he says, pushing you out of the way — and for no reason! There’s enough space for both of you in the hallway. You end up lagging a bit behind him. “I’m dizzy.”

“I thought you said-”

“Blah, blah,” he cuts you off, untying his hair and doing a bad job of smoothing it out with his fingers.

You’re rooming with him and Ness, so you’re already headed in the same direction. As much as this stinks, your other option was Gesner and Grim. God, is fucking Gesner obsessed with dick cheese. Of all things, that’s what he’s always talking about. Grim has your condolences, but the problem is out of your hands now.

“Your hairstyle’s ridiculous.”

Kaiser turns his nose up and smiles, coming off as pleased by the insult. “You can only wish to pull it off.” Always preening like a peacock. He’s entertaining. You swear he is.

You hook one of the ends, where it’s the bluest, around your finger, twirling it around and around. “I had a dream about you recently.”

“Aww, I’m on your mind even when you’re unconscious. I could vomit right now.”

“You were in the meditation position, but you were levitating, and the rat tails were holding you up.”

Maybe you’ve committed some kind of utmost offense, because he doesn’t even bother insisting they’re not rat tails this time. “Wow, those are the kinds of things you dream about me? Your brain is defective to the core.”

“What do you want me to dream about you, then? Are you implying something?”

He faces you, and he has this way of looking at you like you’re a blight on humanity. You have an urge to press your palms against his cheeks to check how warm they get when he blushes, but resist it. “You’re so delusional.”

He’s rolling his eyes again.

“Keep rolling them, see where it gets you.”

“What, are you implying something?” Kaiser asks, mocking you, but he seems kind of happy at the insinuation. You’re not about to point it out, though, having a semblance of self-preservation.

“But anyway, your hair,” you say. “It looks good for tugging on.”

He snorts, either at your audacity to speak such things out loud to him, or at the way you straight up ignored his question.

So you elaborate, just so he doesn’t get the wrong idea, “Yeah, like, I kinda wanna grab you and swing you around till you fly outta my grip.”

“What?! As if.”

“It’d be so funny, though.”

“Maybe to other stupid people like you. Dense people who always ruin the fucking moment, for example, that type of thing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, stifling a laugh before entering the room.

The lights are still on when you come in. Ness seems to be reading some kind of book, sitting upright and all. “Hey, guys. You were gone for a while.”

“We were,” Kaiser says, you assume just because he likes hearing himself talk. “All that time I can’t get back.”

You crouch down to get him a water bottle in case he forgot how dehydrated he was (or more likely decides he’s above getting it by himself). It’s rare for you to do something out of the goodness of your heart, so when you turn around to pass it and find him draping himself over the solitary bed — the one you won dibs on in an honest round of rock, paper, scissors — you swear to never do anything nice for him ever again.

“Hey, get off! It’s mine.”

“But I want it,” he whines, as if his word holds more weight than the aforementioned game of rock, paper, scissors, which, as already established, you won.

You’re about to make an earnest attempt at throwing him out of the bed until Ness comes to his defense. “Come on, leave him alone.”

Saying no to Kaiser is exceptionally easy. But going against what Ness is asking? You can’t get a read on the guy. He’s either way too happy most of the time, or is secretly plotting your murders for all you know. You toss the water bottle at Kaiser, leaving him to smirk at your relenting.

“By the way, do you mind if I turn the lights off after I do my nighttime routine in the bathroom? I’m kind of tired,” Ness says.

“Sure,” allows Kaiser. So generous and charming with a winning personality to boot, this guy.

You lean against the bunk bed and ask, “Oh yeah, why are you still up?”

“I thought it might be rude if I went to bed before you both came back, so I decided to wait.”

Damn, now you feel kind of bad for dilly-dallying for so long. You clutch your chest with a tasteful sense of drama. “You’re so perfect. Hey, Ness, you wanna take the top bunk?”

“Wow, really?”

“Why not at this point,” you say. After all, Ness came in second in the game, but gave it up to Kaiser, and he ruined everything already.

“Thanks!” He grins at you before rushing off to do his business, almost blinding you with the sweetness he emits. Your gaze trails after him until he leaves the room.

Kaiser is looking at you with a mix between scorn and disgust when you walk over to his side to retrieve your phone from the bedside table, but you pretend not to notice.

Figuring you have nothing better to do, you take Ness’s previous spot, lying down on your stomach, ready to check your notifications. In your peripheral vision, you see Kaiser take his shirt off theatrically, then he has the fucking nerve to throw it at you. He makes such a big show out of existing.

It’s probably more painless to throw him a glance now than to be stubborn, so you exhale out of your nostril in resignation and turn your attention back to him. Kaiser props himself on his elbow while reclining on his side, posing on the bed, gracing you with a bastard smile. Almost presenting himself like a Renaissance painting you’re supposed to admire in some chaste, intellectual kind of way.

“Wanna know something?”

“What?” he asks, apparently irritated since you don’t seem so appreciative of him right now.

“I think shitty, obnoxious guys like you need to be put in their place,” you tell him.

It really is way too obvious on his complexion when he starts getting shy. He’s like a breathing mood ring. It’s almost fascinating. For a second, Kaiser is incredulous, but then he turns smug again, addressing you with a sense of challenge. “Don’t even joke. You’re not really about it like that. All you do is talk.”

You think you’re gonna start having even more fun together after today.

___

No homo I HATE HIM 😍

#michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you

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fushipurro · 4 months

Text

In the Shadows of Love

Chapter 2 - Rabbit

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☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, domestic fluff, depression, mentions of blood (small cut), angst

☆ Word Count: 4.1k

It’s been a few weeks since Toji moved in next-door, and you haven’t spoken or seen much of him since the night you met his son, only hearing the typical noise of their coming and goings. Compared to your first impression, they’ve been better neighbors than you hoped they’d be. Aka, they’re quiet.

Tonight, you decided it was time for some real food, and so, you made your way out to the grocery store to grab all the necessities needed to restock your home.

Little are you aware, Toji had the same idea.

“Do you always go shopping this late?”

You turn around to see not only Toji, but Megumi as well, positioned right at his side. His features are covered up by both a frog plushie he holds close to his face as well as Toji’s leg, but you’re still able to make out one green eye staring right at you.

“Hey Toji.” You smile, moving your head to get a better look at the boy. “Hi Megumi.” He mumbles the word “rabbit” into his stuffed animal, sucking in his lips.

“Megs, what did we talk about?” Toji lightly scolds, reminding his son of your name after. Megumi looks down at the ground with a now saddened look, mumbling an apology.

“No worries, it’s all good,” you assure the young boy with a lighthearted chuckle to ease the tension. “Call me whatever you would like, ‘Gumi.” You wink.

He seems to enjoy the new nickname for him, and you don’t miss the blush that creeps up over his cheeks. Toji softens up, turning his attention back to you. “Tough day at work?” he asks, and it’s only then you realize you must’ve missed a dot of concealer under your eyes.

“Eh, sort of.” You pause, finding the right words to use to not come off like you’re dumping your woes onto him. “Had a lot of meetings today for an upcoming project, and not nearly enough sleep,” you give a weak laugh after, fiddling with the fabric of your sleeves with your free hand.

“Why don’t I drive you home then when you’re done shopping?” he offers.

You look at him surprised, needing to swallow first before you respond, “Oh, no, that’s okay ─ I don’t want to be a burden. We’re not that far from home anyways.”

His eyebrows furrow slightly. “It’s no big deal,” he insists, “I’d feel better taking you home than leavin’ you to walk home at this hour all alone.”

“R-really Toji, it’s okay,” you try to reassure him, adding a forced smile to top it off. You catch Megumi’s eyes moving between both you and his father. “I’m sure you two would rather get home than wait around for me.”

Toji drops one hand over the crown of Megumi’s head, roughing up his already unruly hair. “We’re fine, right kid?” The boy flashes him a glance, seemingly softening up to your presence. “Yeah, we’re fine,” he croons. “It’s not like I’m dropping you off on the other side of town,” he chuckles, the sound rolling off his gravelly voice in such a way even you can’t resist any further.

The two begin to idly follow you around, occasionally picking up their own desires here and there, but mainly curious over your selections. It’s kind of fun ─ even for you, to see what food others are interested in or getting to share your own favorites.

You spend some time as you walk trying to plan meals for the week. You hope to come up with something that can be utilized as leftovers, that way you have more time to focus on work. Eventually, you settle on making vegetable soup, at least for tonight.

It’s easy enough to make, plenty bit healthy, and you can leave it to simmer on the stove giving you time to wind down after all your hard work today. You can’t help but laugh when Megumi recoils at the sight of the bell peppers you add to your cart for the recipe.

“Not a fan, I take it?” you ask, and he shakes his head multiple times, even putting up his stuffed animal in front of his face as though it’ll save him from the evil vegetable that threatens his life.

“I keep tellin’ him to not be picky over his food,” Toji grunts, grabbing one of the peppers and teasing it in front of Megumi’s face. He simpers but avoids overdoing it so his son doesn’t leave here today traumatized.

Megumi decides he would be safer stepping away from his father to hide behind your leg this time, making you smile at the gesture.

“I wasn’t always a fan either, but once I grew up more, I came to love them,” you say, exaggerating ever so slightly to make a point. It isn’t a lie, but it does have Megumi looking up at you with a skeptic look ─ maybe a bit of intrigue as well. “But we all have things we don’t like, and that’s okay too,” you say to appease his worried thoughts.

“I think we should do that for dinner then,” Toji muses, mischief lacing his words. “He can watch you eat them and see what he’s missing out on.”

Both you and Megumi stare at the man like a doe and her fawn caught in the headlights. Smooth move inviting you to dinner with his son present. Now you’re can hardly refuse his offer, but would it be so bad just to accept? That thought continues in your mind as you finish up your shopping, fixing to head into the checkout aisle.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested, especially considering how much more relaxed you’re becoming around them. It’s nice not feeling the need to make yourself smaller or stutter every sentence, but it doesn’t make your thoughts any less so overwhelming at times. While it’s true he’s the one inviting you, that could also be out of courtesy as opposed to any actual interest. It wouldn’t shock you either way knowing how people are.

While lost in the onslaught of your reverie, you carelessly forgot to place a divider between yours and Toji’s groceries. You tense up, seeing that the cashier has already scanned a few of your items before you muster the courage to speak up, “I’m so sorry, but uh ─ we’re…not together.”

“You’re not?” the older woman responds with an “Oh my” gesture with a hand in front of her mouth to match. “I’m sorry, Miss. I thought you two were married. You sure do look the part!” she giggles innocently.

You can’t help the warm glow that bubbles of. Because of Megumi, no doubt. It does remind you however that you’ve not seen or heard his mother in the week since they moved in. It makes you wonder where she even is or if she’s still in the picture. At the end of the day, you feel that that’s his business, and yours not to ask. You wouldn’t appreciate others prodding at you for your life’s history, so you don’t plan on asking unless you absolutely need to.

Toji intervenes with a credit card neatly between his fingers like a game of cards. “All good, I’ll pay for everything,” he declares.

“Toji, I can’t let you do this, that’s too much!” you argue.

“I can if I want to have you over for dinner tonight,” he refutes, “We’ll be taking from each other’s ingredients anyways.”

“So then let me pay for half,” you try and offer up, shifting your hand to reach inside your purse to find your wallet.

Toji shakes his head, stopping you with his free hand. “No need, you can buy something nicer that money now.” His grin drips with satisfaction, already savoring an early victory. Megumi can’t help but look up from between you both again, raising an eyebrow curiously.

After successfully paying, Toji takes all the bags into his arms leaving you with just your purse in one hand, and Megumi’s palm in the other. He was the first to initiate it, and you’re more than happy to accept.

“Thank you for shopping with us,” the cashier waves as the three of you step away to leave, her eyes drifting to yours with a knowing smile. “And good luck, Miss!” she whispers and winks, hoping only you would hear (plot twist: he hear it too).

Thankfully, Toji’s car is parked close enough, but in no way did you expect to see a sleek black sports car turn on with the click of his key fob.

You make enough as a bartender to afford this?

One might argue that you should be the one driving luxury cars when your job description includes modeling as a key component. But as life is right now, you merely earn enough to pay the bills and then some. Your apartment isn’t anything grandiose either; if he can afford this sweet ride, then why not his own house?

His trunk opens with another press of the button, and Toji effortlessly places the bags down inside. Meanwhile, you assist Megumi with getting him into his car seat. He proves to be reliable enough to do it himself, so your main job is to hold his plush until he’s situated properly.

The interior of the car is just as pleasing to the eye as the outside with perfectly stitched leather seats and a clean floor to match. Your fingers make a beeline for the seat warmers to stave off the cold from your body. It’s early enough in the fall season still to have warmth during the day, but nights like tonight were chilly.

As you make yourself comfortable, you take notice to a jitte-styled weapon hanging off his rearview mirror in the form of a silver charm with a chain connecting to the pommel. It’s very unique, but you find it to be fitting for someone like Toji to have.

Toji comes down into the driver’s side a moment later and you’re hit with a sudden realization that you’re in his car. It’s more nerve-wracking now to be closed off in such a way with someone so new in your life. It doesn’t help that there isn’t any music playing to distract you either, but you feel more at ease with Megumi in the back. His car, his rules, not that it takes all that long to get home driving as opposed if you walked. His phone goes off a couple times along the way, but ultimately, he decides to let it run through to voicemail.

He parks his car in the building’s designated lot, tossing you his keys once outside without so much as a warning. You nearly fumble trying not to drop them, and thankfully you don’t, saving you the embarrassment.

“You mind taking Megs up first? I gotta make a call,” he asks.

“Yeah, no problem,” you reply, opening the door for the child in question. Megumi hands you his plushie once more so he can get out, wordlessly handing it back as you take his free hand into yours.

“Thanks, doll. I’ll be right behind you.”

You take your time heading up to the fourth floor at Megumi’s pace. You don’t mind given that it’s a school day, so he’s most likely as tuckered out as you are from working overtime.

Despite the fact that all the apartments in your building have the same floorplan, it still comes as a shock to you as you enter their home. Your sense of style comes easy to you with everything elaborately placed in all the colors you enjoy as well as trinkets on the walls to decorate the place. But Toji’s place? It’s simple, minimalistic, and true to what you know of him.

It's hard to tell what kind of things he enjoys when the personality you do see comes in the form of toys intended for Megumi’s usage. His other décor is scarce, the walls especially. Not a single shelf, artwork, or picture frame is to be found. He does however have a bookshelf but before you can think to read the titles, Megumi pulls on your hand, leading you over to the couch.

He turns the TV on easily enough, flipping channels until coming across some documentary about wolves that piques his interest. You don’t say anything for the sake of conversation, instead opting to take the win with how much he’s relaxing around you. The two of you may be more alike than you realize.

The front door opens after a short while with the sound of bags to follow. You leave your spot ─ much to Megumi’s discontent ─ to help his father with the door and getting to the kitchen area.

“I’m glad you accepted my offer,” he tells you while starting to unpack the groceries. You notice he puts aside most of your purchases, save for the assortment of peppers and a few other basic ingredients. “I’m not much of a cook as I am a barkeep but what are you hungry for?”

Taking into account everything laying out on the counters and what might be suitable for Megumi to eat, you come up with a few options in your head, one of which would take no time at all to whip up. So, you end up suggesting to the man, “Hmm, how about a stir fry?”

“Works for me,” He answers, pushing aside everything he’s certain to not need. There’s a good amount of ginger between the two of you which inadvertently gives you an idea in your head.

“Would it be alright if I help you cook?” you plead, “I have something I’d like to try for Megumi.”

“Sure, knock yourself out.” He winks.

Toji tasks himself with handling the meat, ensuring there’s plenty to go around. You on the other hand start your work with the vegetables, making sure to use a few peppers but also focusing on the ginger. The goal in mind ─ a ginger sauce. The flavor might be enough to distract Megumi from the taste of peppers, ensuring he gets a balanced meal.

You look over the counter into the living room where the boy sits, still engrossed in the documentary now showing off a pair of black and white wolves glued to each other’s side. It reminds you of a time when you were younger when Animal Planet or Discovery had better shows to watch compared to some of the cartoons airing. You’ll never forget the joy of catching an episode with Steve Irwin and whatever he was up to, making a mental note to see if Megumi would enjoy it too.

You soon finish up making the sauce, moving onto the rest of the vegetables to work on. While cutting them up to perfection, you can’t help but auto-pilot as your thoughts take over, wondering what the meaning behind tonight is.

Megumi’s mother doesn’t appear to be here currently. What would she think if she knew you were making dinner to enjoy with Toji and her son? The two of you have yet to meet, so in a way, it feels wrong.

A casual dinner between neighbors is one thing, but then comes a darker thought from the back of your mind that begs the question: is there some ulterior motive?

Being someone’s mistress is nowhere to be found on your bucket list. And while Toji hasn’t shown you any obvious red flags… how much do you really know about someone?

You hate that you think the worst of any given situation, but it’s not like you’re able to control it, at least right now. You’ve been through too much in life to not be this way to protect yourself from the cruelty of others. It doesn’t matter how detrimental it can be.

All you can hope at the end of the day is that Toji is different, unlike all that have come before. In time maybe you’ll get the answers to all the questions you have, or at least be able to come out unscathed.

“Shit.”

So long as you don’t forget that you’re the only one holding the knife.

Toji turns to you in a heartbeat at the sound of your hiss. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah,” you mumble, pulling your hand away to see fresh blood trickling down your finger. It makes your stomach turn upside down and you’re quick to look away, feeling the burning sensation come on. “It’s nothing,” you assure the man.

He gently scoops your hand into his own, examining the injury with a focused expression. If you were of a sound mind, you might’ve noticed how your heart fluttered in this moment, but the painful sensation from your finger is too distracting.

“I can finish up here if you wanna get that cleaned up. I got a kit in the bathroom you can help yourself to.” He pauses, glancing up to your glossy expression. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay, thanks.” You nod and he hesitantly releases his hold on you with a noticeable exhale.

You leave the room, heading down the empty hallway to where you know the bathroom to be. The kit is easy to find underneath the sink, surprisingly stocked with more than enough supplies ─ save for any bandages not designed for kids. The thought of Toji wearing these little animal faces over a wound brings a smile back to your face as you rinse off the cut under the sink with soap and water.

In the reflection of the mirror, you spot Megumi standing in the doorway with his eyes on you. “Hi ‘Gumi.” You turn to face him, starting to apply the bandage to your finger.

He enters the bathroom, staring up with a worried look. “Are you okay?” he asks with a low voice; his eyes appearing to gloss over slightly.

“I’ll be fine, just had a little accident is all,” you try and say to make him feel better.

“Are you going to leave me?”

Huh? Leave?

“No, why would I leave you?” you ask with a gentle voice, but he doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear a muffled sniffle as he lowers his head. It breaks your heart to see him like this. You crouch down, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I’m not going anywhere, ‘Gumi,” you promise.

Now you really hope Tsumiki’s right about Toji.

Megumi returns the hug and after a minute you both pull away and return to the living room together, hand in hand. It’s not long after that Toji declares dinner to be ready, and the three of you settle around the dining table, ready to eat up.

The first bite has your eyes widening out of surprise. You may have handled some of the sauce and seasonings, but Toji cooked the rest to perfection despite his claim about not being a good cook.

“Toji, this is really good.” You beam to the man, and he grins back confidently.

“Yeah? I think that’s just your work speaking,” he chuckles. “How ‘bout you, Megs?”

Megumi takes a cautious bite that includes one of the red peppers mixed in. His chewing is slow at first, but eventually relaxes and he moves to take another bite. “I like it,” he says, simple as that, and you’re glad it’s another win for you.

Toji was right earlier about Megumi watching you eat. The boy almost tries to make it a competition to keep up with you, but neither of you can beat out the large bites Toji takes of his plate. As much as grocery shopping can tell you of someone’s interests, so can the way they eat.

In this instance, Toji’s plate is adorned with large portions of meat, equally large in size so you know that’s his favorite. Megumi on the other hand seems more intent on getting as much of the sauce as he can get onto every single bite; perhaps he’s a fan of the ginger? He doesn’t finish all his peppers, but you’re happy he’s making the effort to try, nonetheless.

In the effort of making conversation this time, you start to ask, “So… Megumi, how old are you?”

His reply comes in the form of a mumble between bites, “Five.”

“Are you in kindergarten then?” He nods his head, taking a sip of his drink of choice from a pink elephant themed cup.

Toji chimes in, “Yeah, he just started it this season. Part of why we moved here.”

“Oh yeah?” You redirect your gaze to Megumi. “How do you like it so far?”

He seems unsure on how to reply with his typical quiet nature. You hope you aren’t pressing him too much with the questioning, despite your best intentions. Toji ends up answering for him, “He seems to like it.” He starts, taking another bite. “Kid’s got a few friends ─ what are their names again? Yuji, Nobara?” Megumi nods in turn, looking embarrassed like his biggest secret was just revealed. Toji turns back to you. “How about you, have you lived here long?”

“A few years now, I think…” your voice trails off as your eyes wander to the cityscape view beyond the windows. Nighttime has come and the moon is shining overtop the lights of the city, gleaming into the apartment. “I moved here as soon as I was able to and haven’t looked back.”

He hums with acknowledgement, standing from his seat, taking your dishes in the process.

“Oh, please, let me help clean,” you offer. “It’s the least I can do for everything tonight.”

He declines with a “Nope”, putting an emphasis on the P by way of a pop. “You already helped with the cooking, why don’t you relax with Megs till I finish up?”

You’re quickly starting to see that there is no such thing as winning in arguments when pitted against Toji. You’ll just have to find some other way to show your appreciation at a later date.

Megumi leads you over to the coffee table where he pulls out some paper and crayons to draw with. You decide to sit at the edge of the couch next to him, letting yourself relax as Toji suggested. This wasn’t the night of vegetable soup in bed that you originally planned for, but this unexpected event turned out to not be so bad, earlier thoughts aside.

Toji soon finishes up, making his way into the living room, where he leans himself over the back of the couch close to you both. At that point, Megumi’s drawing is complete, and he holds it up for you to take.

“For me?” You accept the sheet of paper and on it is Megumi’s best attempt at some rabbits he’s outlined in pink with red circles for eyes. It has your name written in the corner with as close a match to the color of your shirt, which also happens to be your favorite color. “Thank you, ‘Gumi, I love it!”

You ruffle his hair in appreciation which turns his face a bright red color. He goes back to coloring while you stand up from your seat, turning to Toji whose own face conveys a myriad of emotions you can’t quite read.

He snaps back to reality, nudging his head in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ve got your groceries bagged up on the counter for you, if you’re ready to get going.”

“Oh, thank you,” you reply, walking in that direction with the man.

“Hey.” He pauses for a brief second. “I’m glad you came over, and I hope you’ll come back. I’m sure Megs would love that too.”

You listen to his words while taking your bags in hand. “Of course, I’d be happy to,” you tell him, and honestly? You don’t even believe you’re lying. This was the nice, casual dinner you were hoping for.

Being around Toji forces you out of your comfort zone, but so far, it’s not been bad. Megumi is such a sweetheart too that you almost hate even thinking of his father in a lesser light. You just need to work through your trust issues and hope for the best. Hope that in whatever this is, that only something good will come of it.

“I’ll see you around sometime, Toji. Bye, Megumi!” you call out to the latter who gives you a quick wave in return.

“See you, neighbor.” Toji says, standing in the threshold of his apartment, long enough to watch you enter your own before returning back to his.

You sigh in relief once all your groceries are unpacked and put away. After a long day of meetings and the dinner next-door, the only thing on your mind now is catching up on sleep with Tsumiki resting happily in your arms.

You’ll need all the energy you can get to prepare for what’s to come.

☆ Notes: this chapter had i believe the most revision done for it cause boy was it messy originally lol. i still worry if there's enough of a balance between dialogue and descriptive text so i hope it's fine!

megumi is a tad bit hard for me to write at times cause honestly i'm not very interested in kids, especially younger ones plus i'm an aunt to an autistic child so my experiences are a lot different from others. HOWEVER i would mother megumi so hard if given the chance (tsumiki too)

#jjk #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji #jjk au #toji x female reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji x you #megumi fushiguro #model!reader

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autisticlancemcclain · 6 months

Text

It has been many, many days since Lance has seen his bed.

Actually, he’s not sure how many days it’s been since he’s seen his dorm, either. Probably more than four. What he has right now is the app Pidge made him for his birthday, where he can input several alarms in advance and thus set up reminders for every single one of his classes and assignments et cetera, and empty can of Redbull, and an equally empty wallet.

He looks blankly at the vending machine in front of him, in the dilapidated old hallway in the science building. The lights in the machine are long broken, so the clearest thing he can see in the dark glass is his own reflection. He looks busted as hell — there are more bags under his eyes than actual eyes, his hair is a logic defying mix of flat and greasy and frizzy beyond gravity, his skin seems to almost sag, and there’s a grey quality to him, as if he’s a cartoon in a black and white TV show. Tired does not begin to cover it.

Midterms are hell.

“C’mon,” he mutters, wrapping his hands around the sides of the machine and shaking slightly.

More people die per year from being crushed to death by vending machines then via shark attack.

Lance squeezes his eyes shut. The image of his Marine Bio II textbook and all its dorky fun fact graphics still burns behind his eyelids. He’s read it so many times at this point that he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to forget it.

“Please,” he says again, half begging and half praying. To what he doesn’t know. The vending machine, probably. He honestly cannot remember the last thing he ate. It was probably takis, but. Still. He needs sustenance again. Preferably the kind that is less than two dollars and he can eat while filling out calculus problems.

He fumbles with the little flap at the base of the machine, managing to tug it open on the third try and stick his arm in it. He stretches, managing to brush his fingertip on the corner of a dust-covered Snickers, but can’t quite manage to tip it out of its little cell.

He sighs, resting his forehead on the glass. He’ll just — close his eyes, maybe. For three seconds. His alarms will go off twenty minutes before class starts, so it’s fine. And no one even comes into this hallway so it’s not like he’ll get robbed, or anything. Not that he has anything to rob.

Rest. Just a little one. If he can’t get snacks he’ll rest. It’s fine. He doesn’t need to study for the next few minutes anyway. He can afford one or two percent on his midterm. Probably. Or not, but that’s a Future Lance problem. Present Lance needs to power off for half a second.

He registers, vaguely, the sound of rumbly growling accompanied by heavy footsteps coming from behind it, but dismisses it easily. He’s gone at least half a week without sleep. He knows science. It’s hallucination time. It’s not his first and it won’t be his last. He’s been hearing pterodactyl roars periodically for the last six hours. It’s whatever. It’ll chill out by the time he opens his eyes again.

The footsteps stop, and Lance sighs a little, and then the vending machine moves as if shifted, and Lance thinks, huh.

Then the sound of glass shattering echoes in the dusty hallway, and Lance thinks, louder, h u h.

And then Lance opens his eyes, blinking away the grogginess, a — person stands in front of him, dressed in the dweebiest GI Joe meets James Bond outfit of all time, seven foot four, covered in purple fur. Fangs protrude from his mouth. His ears are massive and fluffy. His sclera are yellow.

He holds out, in clawed hands, a bag of takis, pulled from a hole punched clean through the old glass.

Huh, Lance thinks, for the third time.

Slowly, because what the fuck, Lance reaches out and grabs the offered snack. In the three seconds it takes for the snack to travel from the stranger’s hand to his, he decides, whatever. It’s been a long period of time. He is thinking half in math. He is starving. He did not, technically, steal these takis, so there’s not even an issue morally. There’s not an issue anywhere, really. It’s a non-issue.

“Thanks,” he says, muffled from the eight chips he’d immediately shoved in his mouth at once.

The person (he’s a person, probably, right, he got him takis, non-people don’t generally get people takis) makes some kind of — growling noise, at him, but not a scary one. A fairly neutral one, if Lance had to categorize it.

Or maybe he’s wrong and he’s about to get eaten. Who knows. That’s an issue, once again, for Future Lance.

“I’m Lance,” Lance says, sticking out his non-chip dust covered hand to shake.

The person brightens, grabbing Lance’s hand and shaking it so vigorously it nearly pops out of its socket. He garbles something in what Lance assumes is French, too fast for him to make out. He must be an exchange student. Lance would usually try to strike up a conversation, ask how he’s liking it here — he knows how hard it can be, struggling with a new language in a new country — and he even took a semester of French in high school, and it’s decently similar to Spanish, so he could probably keep up with the guy.

But Lance is probably medically brain dead, at this point. Thoughts outside of practice exam questions are just…so hard.

“I’m gonna call you Keith,” Lance says (because someone at the local starbucks has a thing for Keith Richards so those are the only songs in his head right now. The matching mullets also come into play).

Keith offers no protest.

Lance’s alarm goes off in his back pocket, startling him. He pops the last taki in his mouth, wiping the dust on his jeans, and swipes open his phone, reading the notification. Physics tutorial in twenty minutes on the other side of campus. Oh, he knows that one. The TA is a ninety year old retired air force pilot who sits at the front of the classroom with a random tangentially-related-to-class-material wikipedia article open on his phone and reads out loud when he finds something interesting. Finally, Lance can nap.

“Well, Keith,” Lance says, crumpling up his package and tucking it in his pocket. “I appreciate the chips. You cannot understand how much. I’m gonna head to class. See you around?”

He pats the guy’s shoulder as he walks past him. Or, well, tries, he ends up kind of tapping his upper bicep because lordie the man is tall. Keith doesn’t say anything back, but Lance isn’t really paying any attention to him anymore, as rude as that is. There’s this one cupboard, in his physics class, in the very back corner, and there’s a space in between it and the wall that he just barely fits in between, right on top of a heating grate. It’s heaven. It might even be more comfortable than his dorm bed, not that he can remember what that feels like. Ha. He’s so looking forward to it. This nap is going to hit so hard. He can feel it in his bones. He’s gonna nap through physics, then stop at the cafe in between the building and the library, espresso up, and study until close. And then his last midterm at six thirty tomorrow morning. And then he can collapse in bed and stay there for four days. Freedom is so close.

As he hauls ass to the classroom, slipping and sliding on the icy November sidewalks, he catches someone following him out of the corner of his eye. Like the footsteps from earlier, this is not the first time he’s seen this. When he looks he’s sure there’s going to be nothing there.

But…earlier there was something. With the footsteps. So. What does he know.

He looks.

As he half-expected, Keith is following him.

“Do you…need something?” Lance asks, tilting his head curiously. Now that he’s had some food and is less out of it, Keith looks a lot more normal. He’s still absolutely stupid tall, but the purple fur and giant ears he’d been convinced he’d seen are no longer there. His skin is pale, now, fuzz-free, and while his nails are a little long, they certainly aren’t claws. When he smiles, his teeth are still sharper than what Lance would call normal, but not fangs. Probably.

Keith shrugs. He has a certain look in his strange, indigo eyes that remind Lance of his dog back home, following him to the door with her leash in her mouth, expecting to be taken along.

“It’s a boring class,” Lance warns. “And I’m gonna sleep, man. The whole time.”

Keith doesn’t seem bothered. He simply takes a step forward so he’s beside Lance instead of behind him, even reaching down and grabbing his hand.

Lance glances down at their clasped fingers. He asks his brain if it has to power to analyze how that makes him feel. It responds that it does not. He resolves to handle it later, deciding to just go with it for now.

“You’re a strange guy,” Lance mumbles, walking them both to the class. He wonders if this is how people regularly act in France. Probably. He’s never been. Regardless, though, Keith is nice enough to offer a shoulder for Lance to sleep on when he finds his beloved corner occupied with some kind of new equipment. His shoulder is quite soft.

Lance thinks he might be able to get used to Keith.

———

based on this post

#!!!! finally wrote this!!!!!! woohoo!!!#i do not condone this kinda behaviour btw don’t do what lance does #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #brown eyed lance #i didn’t say it but it’s true #galra keith #he’s visiting earth for shits and giggles #modern au #idk what to call this au lmk if y’all have any ideas #my writing #fic #longpost

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