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ryusuisloveinterest · 6 months

Note

Hello! I came back with another request!

I was wondering if you could please write something, with " I feel safer with you" kind of moment, please?

I would like to request this for Ryusui, kohaku ( girls need more love here) and ukyo, please?

Thank you!

welcome back anon! I think I went for what you’re asking for but if you don’t like it then feel free to let me know! Ngl they’re kinda long lol. I hope you enjoy 💕

I feel safer when I’m with you🩷

Ryusui: New America City Arc

“You’re staying here.” Ryusui demands you. You scowl. “Why?? I can help you sail the ship! I can keep Watch! There’s so many things I can do just let me come with y-“ This is the first time you’ve ever seen Ryusui so serious. Sure he was always focused and determined on something, but he never had such a solemn face. “(Y/n)…” he says as he drags you by the arm, leading you to the Perseus. “Please Ryusui…let me come with you.” “No…” This is when you lost it. “Why Ryusui?! This isn’t fair. We’ve been through everything together and now-“ “I want you to be safe ok?!!” Ryusui would never raise his voice at you. Ryusui’s voice has never trembled before. Ryusui’s eyes have never been filled with tears about to spill over. Ryusui has never desired something more in his whole life. “S-Stanley is going to come after us. He’s not gonna just slap our wrists and move on. No… he’s gonna come at us guns drawn and take every single one of us until he’s satisfied…” His eyes lock onto yours, desperation in them. “I can’t let you be put in that kind of danger. You have to be safe, I have to KNOW you have to be safe…” The water starts to fall out of his eyes. “We don’t have time for this, I have to get you to the Perseus before-“ He was shocked at the sudden soft lips onto his and the small hands that touched his face. He wraps his muscular arms around your waist and pull you closer to his body. As your lips slowly part, you softly smile at him. “Oh Ryusui, I’m never going to be safe unless I’m with you…” He’s stunned, confused on what you mean. “Remember, before the whole petrification, when you were at my place during a thunderstorm. The one that was on the news for weeks?” He nods. “I was doing the laundry, and you were building one of your model ships. I was almost done with the towels when the lights went out. Of course I started panicking, I’ve never not been scared of blackouts.” You chuckle, thinking of the memory. “I just sat on the couch, trembling, when I feel my favorite blanket wrapped around me.” Your mind travels back to that very day. You both remember every little detail from the cologne Ryusui was wearing to the conversations the both of you had to distract you. “As soon as you wrapped me in your arms, I felt a weight being lifted off my chest. I wasn’t afraid anymore, and it’s all because of you.” He reaches his hand out, tangling it in a few strands of your hair. “Please my love, if you want me to be safe then let me come with you…” He pauses, contemplating on what to do. “Fine, but let’s hurry.”

Kohaku: After Perseus is finished

The Perseus was finally done. Everyone celebrated for only a short while since Ryusui began calling names. One after the other, Ryusui calls name after name. “To help with ship maintenance, (y/n)!” You’re shocked at first that the Kingdom of Science wants you on their journey, but you except the offer with a small nod and walk onto the ship. Everyone greets you and welcomes you on board, well tried to. Kohaku snatched you up immediately, basically throwing you in the air because of how excited you are that you’re coming. “Thank goodness you’re here (y/n)! I thought I would have to separate from you!” You can’t help but blush and giggle at her reaction. After everyone boards and Ginro does his swimming to the boat thing you all head out to Treasure Island.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soon night falls and you and Kohaku are the first on night watch. You both stand hand and hand as you lean on the sides of Perseus. The smell of the ocean sets the romantic mood as the stars provide some light for the both of you. Kohaku rests her head on your shoulder, letting out a small sigh. “I’m really happy you’re here (y/n), really. To be completely honest I thought you would stay behind. You’ve never really be the one to venture out.” You let out a laugh. “Well, you could say I wanted to stay close to a certain someone.” This made Kohaku giggle. “Besides, I was curious. To see more than just the island we live on.” Kohaku smiled softly while holding your hand a little tighter. “But…aren’t you even a little scared? About leaving your home?” You were shocked at her sudden vulnerability. The strong lioness showing her fear and worry. You squeeze her hand back. “Hey, we’ll be fine. Everything is going to be fine. As long as we have each other, there’s nothing to worry about.” She smiles at you, then gives you a small kiss on the cheek. You laugh to yourself. “Plus, I don’t have to worry about being mauled by a bear or something, I have Ishigami Village’s strongest warrior with me, I never have to worry with you around Kohaku!” Kohaku laughs at this, and if you’d look hard enough then you could notice the small blush forming on her face. “Thanks (y/n), I’m glad I can always count on you…” She takes a small step towards you before sharing a delicate kiss.

Ukyo: Stone Wars

You were sitting outside of Tsukasa’s cave, waiting for the meeting between Tsukasa, Hyoga, and Ukyo to end. As you were about done picking the random flowers that found their way through the rock, you see Hyoga angrily stomp pass you. You look in the cave as Tsukasa and Ukyo walk out. “(Y/n).” Tsukasa says as he nods at you, walking to a quiet place to think. Ukyo sighs as he walks over to you, grabbing both your hands and kissing them. “Tough meeting?” You whisper. He nods. “Let’s get you some food then you can tell me all about it yeah?” “I’d love that.” He smiles as you both walk hand and hand to your shared hut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night eventually falls as you and Ukyo cuddled close together for warmth. “What’s on your mind Ukyo? You’ve been acting strange ever since your meeting with Tsukasa and Hyoga.” Ukyo barries his face in your neck, breathing softly. “Hyoga was telling Tsukasa that we should only revive the strongest while Tsukasa believes only the young should survive.” He buries his head deeper, taking in your scent. You rub his ear, making his face heat up. “And how do you feel about that? Do you agree with letting a few live and the rest die?” You already knew the answer, but you had to hear it from his mouth. Ukyo holds you tighter when you feel your neck become wet with his tears. “N-no one should die, w-why do we have to d-decide who lives or dies? It’s not right!” You cup his face and wipe his tears. “That’s not all you want to tell me, is it?” He stares up at you, hesitant. He touches your hand and kisses it. “I found a phone.” A phone? In the stone world? How? “On the other side was the Kingdom of science…” Yes, Tsukasa’s current enemy. “Their leader, Senku, said if I could help them, they’ll prevent anymore bloodshed and stop the destruction of the statues…” Hes scared to tell you more, but he holds you tighter. “What else Ukyo?” “I cant, the more you know, the more likely Tsukasa could harm you. I have to keep you safe..!” You grab his face making him look at you. “Listen to me, I’m here with you. No matter what we face we’ll do it together. And as for my safety, I know that I’m safe when I’m with you!” This causes Ukyo’s tears to fall out again. He looks down and takes a breath. “I agreed. I dont want anyone else to die…” You squeeze his hand and kiss his hand. “Then no one else will. We’ll make sure if it. Together…”

#dr stone #dcst #dr stone headcanons #ryusui nanami #ryusui nanami headcanons #ryusui nanami x reader #ryusui x reader #Kohaku headcanons #Kohaku x reader #ukyo saionji headcanons #ukyo saionji x reader #ukyo saionji #dr stone x reader

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iam93percentstardust · 3 years

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Hey, I hope you're had a very pleasant birthday and birthday month! If the prompte are still open: Can you do Stony with Tony finally and sorta randomly confessing his love to Steve and Steve only then realizing that what he feels for Tony is romantic love as well?

Hello! Sure thing! Quick note: there’s a change between present and past tense for a flashback, for anyone who doesn’t like that kind of thing

As always, everything I write is also on ao3

“I love you,” Tony says, and Steve doesn’t quite know what to do about that.

He won’t say that he’s thought about it before because he hasn’t. But he won’t say that he’s never thought about it either—because he has, occasionally, glanced at Tony’s ass outlined by his perfectly tailored pants and appreciated the sight, and he has, once or twice, wondered what Tony’s warm, sparkling eyes would look like when hazy with pleasure. But a quick, glancing thought that he immediately moves on from is not the same as being attracted enough to Tony to think about asking him out or anything past that.

And now that he’s faced with that question, he doesn’t know what to say. Is he supposed to thank Tony? Is he supposed to acknowledge his feelings and say that he doesn’t feel the same way? Is he just supposed to ignore what Tony said? This is why he has so much trouble with his dates—he never knows how to act in a way that isn’t awkward. No wonder Natasha recently declared him hopeless after he came back from his last date covered in her sticky drink because he accidentally called her a dame.

“I love you,” Tony says and Steve doesn’t know what to do about that, but as it turns out, he doesn’t have to do anything, because Tony nods immediately afterward, says, “Good talk,” and turns and walks away like he wasn’t expecting an answer—or at least, not one that he would like.

Steve doesn’t know what to do about that either.

“Do you think I’m in love with Tony?” he asks Natasha later that day when they’re relaxing on the couch while some mindless sitcom plays in the background.

Natasha blinks at him and then caps the nail polish she was using and puts it on the coffee table. “Do you think you’re in love with Tony?” she asks carefully.

He frowns at her. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I should just tell you what to think.”

He sighs and takes another sip from his Coke, only to realize that it’s empty. Yeah, that describes his life pretty well. “I’m gonna get another one,” he says, standing up. “Do you want something?”

She shakes her head. It’s not until he’s in the kitchen, grabbing another Coke from the fridge, before she asks, “What brought this on?”

Steve thinks about the vulnerable look on Tony’s face as he said those three words. He probably wouldn’t like it if Steve told Natasha what they’d discussed. Or, well, he’d probably act like it was fine but he’d secretly feel hurt and might put the workshop into blackout mode again. Steve hates it when the workshop is in blackout mode. He doesn’t like that he can’t get to Tony when he’s feeling so terrible that he has to shut himself away. He wants to be there to support him, and he hates it when he’s the one who makes Tony feel like he has to close off the workshop.

“Nothing,” he tells Natasha.

She gets up to come into the kitchen, where she eyes him for a moment and then declares, “Tony finally told you, didn’t he?”

How does she always know?

“How do you always know?”

She smiles enigmatically. “I always know,” she says in that mysterious tone.

Steve glares at her. “Tony told you, didn’t he?”

“Maybe he did and maybe he didn’t.”

“One of these days, you’re going to have to admit that you two are friends.”

“Hmm,” she agrees. “But not today.” She hesitates, watching as Steve starts preparing a ham sandwich. “So Tony told you he loves you and you said?”

“Nothing,” Steve says with a shrug. “JARVIS, do you think it would be a good idea if I took this to Tony?”

“Sir has not expressed an explicit desire to keep you out of the workshop but I believe he would not appreciate you down there at the moment.”

Steve sighs. “Great. Could you send U up here to bring this sandwich down?”

“Of course, Captain Rogers.”

With that taken care of, Steve turns back to Natasha, following her back out to the living room. “I didn’t say anything because Tony didn’t give me the chance. He just took off.”

Natasha is quiet, studying him for a long moment. He knows what she’s thinking, since it’s probably the same thing he thought: that Tony was too afraid to hear the answer to give Steve the chance to respond. Eventually, she asks, “So how do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says honestly. “I can’t say I’ve ever thought about Tony like that before but—we act kinda coupley, don’t we?”

Before Natasha can respond, the previously bright sky outside goes dark. There’s a bright lightning bolt right outside the window, followed by the crash of thunder and then a loud rushing sound. It dissipates after a moment, the sky lightening again.

“Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS says, “Thor has returned to the tower.”

The Steve and Tony story goes something like this: instead of going on his planned road trip, Steve returned to the tower the day after the Chitauri invasion to offer his apologies to Tony about what he said on the helicarrier. Somehow—and he’s not sure how, even to this day—he found himself getting wrapped up in the tower repairs with a room of his own on one of the lower floors. And by the time those were done, Tony had apparently also redone some of the apartments near the penthouse as a headquarters for the Avengers. Steve hadn’t been lacking for options after the battle (the Army, in particular, wanted him back) but he’d moved into the tower permanently instead.

He and Tony had clashed a few times in those early days but once Bruce came back from wrapping up his affairs in India and Natasha and Clint left SHIELD to join them, they settled into a bit of a truce.

And over the semi-regular movie nights and the training spars and the late-night conversations after they both couldn’t sleep, that truce became a friendship and before Steve quite realized it, Tony had become one of his best friends. Slowly, Steve found himself being pulled out of the shell he’d withdrawn into after waking in this new century. Tony dragged him to lunch at new and exciting places, places that Steve could never have even dreamed of when he was growing up. They planned missions and training days together. Steve had even gotten adept enough at handling the press with Tony to feel confident accepting interview requests with him.

He hadn’t realized though that Tony had taken it as something more serious though. And now that he does know, he’s not sure what to do about it.

He eventually goes to Bruce, since Pepper is busy dealing with a business merger and Colonel Rhodes is out of town in some undisclosed location (though Steve is certain that Tony knows where). Bruce’s lab isn’t quite the wonderland of light and holograms that Tony’s is, but it’s still impressive to someone who grew up with nothing. Tony makes sure that Bruce has all the latest equipment so the lab is a gleaming marvel of sleek instruments with silver and white colors everywhere. It doesn’t look like the most soothing environment but the speakers pipe out some sort of piano music that Steve vaguely recognizes and there’s a teapot on one counter, keeping whatever Bruce is drinking warm.

Bruce is currently examining something under a microscope. Steve can make out what looks like a purple smear on the slide from where he’s standing in the doorway, but that’s it. Bruce doesn’t seem to have noticed him yet, even though JARVIS announced him, so he waits patiently until Bruce has rolled away from the microscope.

“Bruce, you got a second?” he asks quietly.

“Hey, when did you get here?” Bruce asks, offering him a tired smile. He waves Steve over to the teapot and offers him a cup.

“Just a couple minutes ago. I didn’t mind waiting,” Steve assures him. “What’s the blend?”

“Lavender and chocolate.”

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind a cup.” Bruce hands him the steaming mug. Steve has to add the sugar himself (only Tony knows how he prefers his tea).

“What brings you to my lab? Tony’s downstairs today,” Bruce says, fixing a cup of his own.

“I’m not looking for Tony. Not yet anyway,” Steve corrects. “I did want to talk about him though.” He hesitates and then decides to take the plunge. “Has Tony ever said anything to you about—ah—”

“About his feelings?” Bruce asks knowledgeably. “It’s come up a few times.”

Steve takes that to mean that it’s come up fairly frequently. Tony does like to overshare sometimes and trying to figure out what he’ll overshare about and what he’ll clam up about is about as accurate as trying to make one of Clint’s trick shots. “He told me today,” he begins carefully. “But he didn’t let me say anything.”

“Well, he wouldn’t,” Bruce says, like that’s perfectly reasonable and not absolutely surprising to Steve. He must see the confusion in Steve’s face because he adds, “He only just figured it out a few days ago himself, even though he’s been talking about you for months. I don’t think he was expecting you to feel the same way as him right after he realized it.”

“But why would he say it then?”

Bruce takes off his glasses, holding them in front of him as he thinks. “Tony—he’s got a weird relationship with love. He told me once that he thought he’d lost the chance to tell Pepper he loved her, first in Afghanistan and then with the palladium poisoning.”

“His parents,” Steve realizes. “He didn’t get to tell them either.”

“Exactly,” Bruce says, pointing at him with the glasses. “He doesn’t like to wait. So even though he knows you don’t feel the same way, he felt it was important to tell you.”

“What, in case I die tomorrow?”

“Or if he does.” Bruce must catch the stricken expression on Steve’s face as he smiles gently. “It’s not just about getting the feeling off his chest for Tony. It’s about making sure that you know you’re loved too.”

“Oh,” Steve says softly.

Normally, he would go down to the workshop to think about something that’s puzzling him but he doesn’t want to bother Tony right now. Instead, he goes to his second-favorite room in the entire tower: the library. The library was designed specifically by Tony for Steve after he mentioned how much he liked the tablet Tony had given him but how he missed paper books too. He hadn’t been angling for a library out of the conversation but Tony, generous to a fault, had immediately gotten to work on one.

It’s a beautiful room, completely incongruous with the sleek modern style of the rest of the tower, but perfect despite that. It takes up an entire two floors of the tower with balconies, a spiral staircase, and several sliding ladders for Clint to reenact a scene from some movie that Steve hasn’t gotten around to watching yet. Tony had done the room in dark wood with enough windows to make it feel light and airy instead of cramped. There are little nooks hidden among the shelves and a few window seats for anyone who wants to gaze out over the New York skyline while they read.

It’s perfect, made all the more so because Tony designed it for him.

“Steve, you should have realized how Tony felt sooner,” he mutters to himself as he settles on one of the cushy armchairs with his sketchbook. But how could he have? According to Bruce, Tony hadn’t even known how he felt until a few days ago.

He sketches as he thinks, no subject in mind until he looks down to find that he’s roughly sketched out Tony at his workbench, arguing with DUM-E over something silly. Steve smiles fondly down at the drawing, rubbing his thumb over the curve of Tony’s cheek. He remembers this argument. It had been a couple weeks ago. Tony had asked DUM-E to bring him a wrench and instead, DUM-E had brought him two screwdrivers, three hammers, and a level before finally bringing the wrench. It had made Steve laugh, which had just encouraged DUM-E. Tony had acted frustrated but he knows Tony well enough to know that Tony had been secretly proud about DUM-E’s personality, both for DUM-E and for himself. After all, as Tony said, any monkey could design an AI. It took skill to design one with character.

In his sketch, he’s drawn something of that conflict in Tony’s face—the frustration in the downward turn of his mouth but the pride in the twinkle in his eyes—and it only makes him more beautiful.

“Beautiful,” Steve repeats, awed at the thought. Tony is beautiful, when he’s tinkering, when he’s flying, even when he’s going toe-to-toe with Steve over something stupid (usually Tony’s self-sacrificial tendencies).

He flips through the book, taking in each drawing: Natasha, Tony, Clint, Thor, Tony, Bruce, Tony, Tony, Tony. “Yeah,” he murmurs, looking back down at the drawing he just finished again. He thinks he’s got it figured out.

He stands, tucking his sketchbook under his arm. “JARVIS, do you think Tony would mind talking to me now? I’ve got something important to tell him.”

JARVIS is quiet for a moment, then says, “Sir would be happy to see you.”

He makes his way downstairs, thinking about what he’s going to say, but as soon as he sees Tony—wonderful, beautiful, perfect Tony—playing with one of those incredible holograms he designed, the words fly from his mind and he blurts out, “I’m not in love with you.”

And then he winces. Yeah, okay, so he’s a bit of a disaster.

Tony looks hurt for a moment, but it’s quickly covered up with dramatic offense. Before Tony can make one of his infamous quips that’ll just make light of the situation, Steve crosses the workshop and pulls Tony’s hands into his, rubbing them gently with his thumbs.

“I’m not in love with you,” he repeats. “But I think I could be soon. I’m not where you’re at yet—my brain isn’t nearly as quick as yours, Tony, of course you’re a step ahead of me here too. But Tony, you’re on almost every single page of my sketchbook. We go on what we might as well call dates together. We talk for hours. I know you almost as well as I know myself. I’m not in love with you yet but I think I’m only a couple dates away from it, so you should take me out, and we’ll see how fast I can catch up.”

Tony is smiling by the end of his little speech. “How are you always so good at that?” he asks.

“I was born like this,” Steve says seriously, only to crack a grin when Tony laughs.

“No you weren’t,” Tony argues. “You were born small and spiteful.”

“And full of good speeches. But no one wanted to listen to a little guy like me so I had to bottle them up to use on you.” He pauses and looks down at Tony. “Um, not to pressure you, but does a date sound good?”

Tony thinks about it for a moment. “Depends. Where are you going to take me?”

“Oh, am I taking you? You’re the billionaire, shouldn’t you be treating me?”

Tony’s eyes darken as he purrs, “Only if you’re very nice.”

Steve shivers. He hadn’t really thought about how it would feel to have the full Tony Stark Seduction TechniqueTM turned on him, but he’s thinking about it now and it is absolutely delightful. “What if I’m not nice at all?” he whispers, hands tightening on Tony’s.

Tony’s smile turns downright filthy and he leans up to brush a kiss over Steve’s cheek. “Hmm, I’ll think of something,” he murmurs into Steve’s ear.

He’s not going to act like a caveman and take Tony to bed. He’s not. He’s going to—“Sal’s!” he blurts out, immediately regretting it when Tony takes a step away, brow wrinkling confusedly. It’s really cute. Steve wants to kiss it away.

“What?”

“Sal’s,” Steve says again. “Best burgers in Brooklyn. I want to take you there.”

Tony smiles again. “Sounds like a date.”

#alle writes #stevetony #alle answers #if you like please consider reblogging #Anonymous

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sdr2lovemail · 3 years

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I just noticed that you are alive again! So um.. I've been thinking for QUITE a while of a relationship Ultimate Impostor x Ultimate Leader (in the killing game ig?), idk why. If the requests are closed feel free to ignore this. Thank you!

You could say that I am a fan of Imposter's work. Even tho there is not a lot of content about them out there I still love them dearly.

And yes I died for a minute but have risen from the grave to continue my writing career. I hope you enjoy what I have written my friend because I absolutely love it.

⚔Mod Peko⚔

Spoilers for chapter 1

The Ultimate Imposter disguised as Byakuya Togami and the Ultimate Leader butt heads but also kinda wanna kiss each other

Teenagers and a killing game are bound to fall into chaos. Teenagers, a killing game, and no supervision will cause more chaos. That’s why they need a leader. Someone strong and brave to guide them. However two ultimates wanting to be that leader, teenagers, a killing game, and no supervision will cause even more chaos.

Breakfast was a usually calm time. Everyone just wanted to eat and get on with finding a way off this forced school trip. However there were some mornings where everyone seemed to be full of energy. Akane and Nekomaru were engaged in a fierce 1v1 training session. Chairs, tables, and food flying throughout the air from the power of their moves. The restaurant was in total disarray and with your talent of being a leader you must do something to calm the crowd. Standing up you set your arms behind your back and call out to your classmates.

“Everyone! This is-”

“Sit down, common folk. You will all cease this foolish behavior and stop wasting food.”

“Huh?”

At the mention of wasting food Akane quickly stops her fighting. She then pulls up a table and chair from the mess of the restaurant and begins to chow down. You look at where the voice came from and see Twogami sitting at a table with a plate. Just because this guy is loaded he thinks he can be a better leader than you? Oh you will just have a quick word with him to set the record straight. With quick strides you tap him on the shoulder giving him your best stern look. This look helped you strike the feeling of order into people. But Twogami doesn’t look impressed at all?! No you can’t let him see you falter. Standing up straighter than ever you begin to speak.

‘Hey what’s the big idea? I’m the Ultimate leader. I don’t need your help guiding our class.” You told him with a grim expression. Twogami gave you a look over before setting down his fork. He wipes his mouth off with a napkin before standing to face you. His intimidation factor was off the charts. Can money buy such a scary aura?! After adjusting his glasses he begins to speak with a sigh.

“Listen I, Byakuya Twogami, am much better suited to be in charge. You may have your impeccable wits and title but that is nothing compared to being next in the Togami line. Now are we done here? I would like to finish my food”

Not even giving you a chance to respond he goes right back to eating. Even with your ultimate status this guy intimidates you a lot. But you will not be backing down. He thinks he’s so high and mighty you’ll show him high and mighty.

The days feel like they’re getting heavier. Monokuma’s annoying voice rings in your ears. There’s no way you’d believe that memory loss garbage….And even if you did, you had to stay strong for everyone. Twogami’s party did nothing to calm the tense feeling in the air. You decided you were going to check this abandoned building from top to bottom before anyone steps foot inside.

You do not see Nagito when you first step in. Maybe he’s cleaning somewhere else. Teruteru was said to be in the kitchen. Entering the main room of the building you see Twogami rifling through what looks to be a metal case. Hearing the floors creak under your weight he looks over. Upon seeing you he sends a glare.

“And what are you doing here? I don’t remember you having to prepare anything.” There was a doubtful tone to his voice. Twogami was trying to let this party go off without a hitch. And he wasn’t going to let some commoner ruin his plans. Though behind the rich boy costume Imposter did feel kinda bad. They felt like they were trampling all over your pride with their Byakuya act. However this was their ultimate. And as Twogami….No. Just as themself, if that even existed, they will keep their classmates safe. Even if they have to hurt some feelings.

“As a leader it is my duty to keep everyone in order and assure maximum safety. I plan to do a total sweep of the place before the party.” And like he did to you, you did not give him a chance to answer. You quickly turn around and exit out into the hallway missing the look of awe on Twogami’s face. Walking past the fire door you come up to the kitchen. Before you can reach for the door it swings open revealing Nagito. Strange….If Teruteru was already in the kitchen there was no need for Nagito to be in there. The lucky student passed by with a smile yet spoke no words towards you. Also strange. Nagito usually said something when passing. He deemed it rude not to say hello to an ultimate.

Entering the kitchen you see Teruteru at the counter. He doesn’t seem to notice you coming in. The usual smile on his face is replaced with a look of fear and he’s shaking like a leaf. Stepping closer seems to have caught his attention as he jumps. The look of fear is swiftly changed into a smile yet he’s still shaking. Teruteru then grabs a knife and begins chopping at some vegetables. Seems as if he’s trying to make it seem like he was simply taking a break.

“W-Why hello there. Heh, what could I do for you?” He’s shaken up quite a bit. Not a single flirty remark in that sentence and Teruteru sure did like to tease about your strong authority. You stand tall and look down at the chef. He visibly shrinks back. Looking him dead in the eye you start to command him.

“You will tell me what you have discussed with Nagito Komaeda.”

This caused Teruteru to tense up. Setting down the knife he grabs a comb from his pocket and begins to bring it through his hair. Though there isn’t a hair out of place on his pompadour. Appears to be a nervous habit.

“I uh….I have no idea what you mean mon ami~. We were simply discussing plans for the upcoming party.” Teruteru had tried to come off as collected but you knew better. He wasn’t making eye contact and he was constantly fidgeting. Nagito told him something and you were going to find out what.

“Teruteru Hanamura! I command you to tell me what Nagito had told you. Simple party plans would not have such an impact on your demeanor.”

This seemed to have caused a reaction in him. He began to blubber as words poured out of his mouth like a dam cracking under pressure.

“He came in here and told me that he had plans to murder someone at the party with the knife he had hidden under one of the tables in the dining room. He planned to overload the breaker in here with irons in the storage room to cause a blackout so he could grab the knife and kill someone during the party. I-I begun to form my own plan of stopping him….by….killing him?” The last part of his word vomit stuck with Teruteru. He would’ve had someone’s blood on his hands and would send the rest of his class to their own demise. “Oh my god I was going to kill him!” Teruteru then sinks to his knees before you.

Your face softens as you see the mess of a chef on the ground. Nagito was planning a murder? Why would he share this information with Teruteru? Dropping down to his level you set a careful hand on Teruteru’s back. “Listen. I’m going to go grab Twogami and you’re going to tell him what happened. And we’ll come up with a solution.” You normally wouldn’t call for backup, but as this was his party you felt he had the right to know.

You cautiously leave the kitchen and begin to look for the blond. Not able to find him in the building you exit to the hotel grounds. Noticing the while suit and blonde hair you call out to him and ask for him to come back. Leading him to the kitchen where Teruteru still sits slumped on the ground he listens to what you already know.

A look of disgust crosses Twogami’s face before he sets off to the main room. After announcing your departure to Teruteru, you follow him. Nagito is there setting up tables and dusting the furniture. He was about to offer the two of you a cheerful greeting but is cut off by your demand for him to exit the grounds. Not wanting to upset an ultimate that is clearly in higher ranks than he is, Nagito does not question it. He leaves the abandoned building to rest in his cottage to wait for permission to be allowed back in.

Looking under the tables you find the knife that Teruteru had mentioned. Grabbing it proceeds to coat your hand in wet paint. So Nagito had just planted this. But what’s the paint for?

“Set the knife in the duralumin case I brought on the left. I am currently using it to store anything I deem unsafe.”

You let out a scoff before setting the knife in the case. He sure does love bossing people around even in dire situations. Well….I guess that’s your talent so you can’t really speak. After doing a check of the rest of the tables, Twogami walks up to you with something in his hand. It’s a handkerchief with the Togami family crest. Imposter spent many hours perfecting the stitching of the symbol. You give him a confused look about the offering. Seeing the expression he rolls his eyes.

“Close your mouth before flies start to swarm. This is to wipe your hand off. I don’t need paint smears ruining the image of my party.”

“What? I can’t wipe paint on something as expensive as that. That handkerchief probably cost more than my house. I’ll just go wash it in the bathroom.”

Upset by your stubborn nature, Twogami grabs your wrist and begins to wipe the paint off himself. After your hand is clean he drops the cloth into your hand. “I expect that to be washed before it’s returned to me. Now I have some important matters to discuss.”

Stuffing the handkerchief into your pocket you give Twogami your full attention.

“I have decided that after this little incident we need to up the security. I would ask Nekomaru but I wish to keep this between us. Letting the public know that two people were planning a murder would cause chaos. When it’s time for the party you will help me conduct body searches. I’d like for you to keep an eye on the party with me to make sure no suspicious activity is at play.”

While normally you would make a fuss about him bossing you around with people’s lives at stake it was simply not the time for that. Nodding once he finishes speaking, you and Twogami complete one last look of the place before the party starts.

It’s time for the party and the two of you are set up outside of the abandoned building. After checking everyone and confiscating anything deemed dangerous, the party is in full swing. Everything is going smoothly. 11:30 was nearing and at the corner of your eye you see Nagito inch closer to the table. Knowing you shut the irons off you pay this no mind. There’s no way he’d try to pull anything when everyone can see him. A quick look of confusion crosses his face as the lights are still on. The confused expression is swapped for one of despair. There’s a creepy smile on his face and his eyes are clouded. Even if the blackout did not occur Nagito can still pull through with his plan.

He suddenly flips the table cloth over and goes to reach for his knife. Everyone at the party has eyes on him. Before he can fully register that his knife is in fact missing Nagito is pushed to the ground. His arms are pressed against his back and his face is squished into the floor. Multiple confused cries echo throughout the dining hall. Nagito recognized this tactic. After hours upon hours of researching the ultimates he’s sharing a class with he could easily tell that this was your work.

Twogami with Nekomaru in tow walks over to you and the detained lucky student. An agitated expression is on the heir’s face. He looks down at Nagito.

“You dare to think that I would let your plan continue? [Name] and I knew about your scheme and were quick to put a stop to it. And the fact that you would try to pull through with it in broad light is despicable.”

Anger, disgust, and confusion are present in the crowd of your classmates. Trying to make sense of it all Akane speaks up.

“I’m so friggin’ confused. What plan did Nagito have? Need me to beat him up for ya?”

You were quick to diminish the violent thought. “No, that will not be necessary as he has already been disarmed.”

“Nagito had planned out a murder.”

Twogami’s words caused a commotion in the dining hall. After hearing the noise from the kitchen, Teruteru cautiously enters the room fearing the worst. Though a feeling of relief washed over him after seeing Nagito on the ground.

Nekomaru lets out a strangled noise. His teeth are clenched and his fists tightened.

“You were going to murder one of your classmates? THAT’S INEXCUSABLE! Please [Name] allow me to detain him somewhere away from everyone. SOMEONE LIKE HIM CANNOT WALK FREEEEE!”

Looking over to Twogami as if silently discussing what to do he sends you a nod. Removing Nagito from your grasp he is quickly put into Nekomaru’s. The coach is quick to remove him from the premises. With a sigh Twogami faces your classmates. Pushing his glasses up he begins to apologise.

“I am sorry you all had to see that. And I am sorry that my exquisite party must draw to a close here. Exit the building and head to your cottage for the night.”

Though shaken, everyone proceeds to leave in groups. No one wants to walk back alone fearing that someone will try something. With just you and Twogami left he turns to face you.

“That was quite impressive. What you did back there was helpful in getting Nagito detained. I believe that we should come to an agreement. Yes we are fine separately but together I feel that we could do an outstanding job at keeping everyone safe.”

Twogami extended a chubby hand out for you to shake. This handshake would seal the two of you into a partnership. One of which would keep your class safe. Looking from his hand to his face then back to his hand you sit there in thought. This could be a wonderful idea. With two people working together that’s like double the safety. With a smile you shake his hand giving it a tight squeeze.

“I think I’d like that Twogami! From here on out the two of us are now Jabberwock Island’s health and safety committee.”

#ultimate imposter x reader #danganronpa x reader #imposter x reader #byakuya twogami x reader #ultimate imposter #byakuya twogami #super danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa #danganronpa imagine #sdr2 x reader #sdr2 #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa imagines #x reader #insert an original name here #Jabberwock Island Health and Safety Committee

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lilyblyss · 3 years

Note

I see you ain’t got anon on it’s like sliding into an ex without a condom and hoping for the best anyway I only have one request and it’s quite simple gimme yandere older brother Nanami being controlling and just a general big ol’ creep, perhaps drugging his lil sister and dabbling in a bit of somnophilia.

Aksvskbf that's me, your toxic ex dragging you back to me LOL

TW// 18+, Fem-reader, incest, yandere older brother, controlling Nanami, some degradation, drugging, dubcon, semi-public sex, car sex, implied somnophilia at the end

Speaking of dragging you back, yandere older brother Nanami has a habit of letting you do what you want, only to see how far you go before you're inevitably dragged back to his side. Every choice you make is only because he lets you, and even then he has a say in almost everything you do. You're going to a friend's house? Keep your phone charged and on at all times so he can track you if you're out too late. You need to go to the mall to get some new clothes? He's going too, he can't have you picking out clothes that'll show off everything that's his to the public. And yes, he's going to sit in the dressing room while you change, even if he has to sneak past security. He wants to see how the fabric fills you out, after all, he'll deem it appropriate or not depending on how hard he gets seeing you in it.

And you try to convince yourself this a normal thing an older brother would do for their sister. At least, he's told you that multiple times. "I'm just a little protective" he admits. So, even when he sits at the foot of your bed, watching you intensely with your hand between your thighs with your fingers massaging your clit, you try not to feel too embarrassed. He'd already explained to you that he wanted to make sure you were doing it right. "My little sister deserves the best, after all." He was taking his time out of the day to help you too, so the least you could do was spread yourself to him, let him eat you out like a starved man, and cream on his tongue. It was the only thing really keeping him from fucking you raw, so really, he was doing you a favor.

His controlling behavior never really bothered you until one of your friends invite you to a party that Nanami is definitely going to attend because his friends are there. Even when you begged and pleaded, saying you would stay by his side if that meant you could go, he refused flat out. He simply couldn't fathom why you would want to go. Get dressed up in one of the pretty cocktail dresses that was specifically for his eyes, and get drunk with people he didn't care for?

Your friend convinced you to sneak out, though, and that was your first of many mistakes that night. Another was that you let your friend convince you to wear that lovely, olive green body-con dress that Nanami looks to see you in when you're alone. It hugs your curves in all the right way, compliments your skin tone, and even has a little boob window to show a little cleavage and make you feel sexy. Nanami likes it especially because it feels nice under his hands whenever he feels you up.

You don't think being at the party is a bad idea until after you're there for an hour, and your mind is starting to fuzz because of all that alcohol. You bump into one of Nanami's friends, a man with pretty blue eyes and hair as strikingly white as lightning, and his eyes widened upon recognizing you. He immediately drags you to where Nanami is, and even in the dim atmosphere and fading LED lights, you can tell he's pissed. His angry face has almost never been directed at you before, even still you can admiring how nice looks in his casual blazer, white shirt, and pants.

You sit by his side with your head down and his hand on the back of your neck while he talks to his friends before they all scatter, leaving you and Nanami alone at the table. Before they're gone for good, one with long black hair brings two drinks for you before sending you a wink.

"Kento-nii, I—"

"I told you to stay home, Y/N. Was I not clear when I said it?"

"You were. I'm sorry I didn't listen."

Your voice was meek, Nanami had to strain to hear it over the club's music and he's never been more aroused than he was at this moment. Your complacent obedience railed him on as well as your subtle sway from the alcohol.

His hand moved from the back of your neck, moving to cup your cheek to make you look at him, and you subconsciously nuzzled your cheek against his palm. You didn't mean anything by it, you were just reacting to his warmth, you weren't expecting to make him angry, but it did. His hand quickly wrapped around your throat, making you choke a little when he leaned closer to you.

"Do you honestly think you can get out of punishment by being cute? One night away from me and you've already turned into that much of a whore?"

Without listening to what you had to say, he reached into his pocket with his other hand, keeping a loose yet firm grip on your neck. He pulled out a small plastic bag with what looked like pink vitamins, taking one and forcing it against your tongue. He pushes one of the drinks into your hands and commands you to drink it.

The hard liquor goes down rough, making you cough and Nanami is quick to make sure you've swollen it and the pill. Fingers pushed into your mouth, nearly choking you on his fingers. It doesn't take long for the pill to have its effect, leaving you panting and pathetically aroused against Nanami's shoulder. You whine against his shirt, mouthing pleads as your thighs rub against each other. When Nanami first forces his fingers between your thighs, you try to resist, embarrassed by the indecency of the situation. However, once his thumb presses against the wetness of your entrance and drags up to your clit, you're completely wrapped around his finger.

He pushes your skirt up, the fingers thrusting into you with surprising roughness hidden under the table. Despite your initial unwillingness, you spread your legs for Nanami, hooking on against his knee so he could press his long, thick fingers into you. It's only after the first orgasm that your eyes blur, hand clenching Nanami's shirt falling limp against your lap, and Nanami fixes your skirt, places his blazer on your shoulders, and leads you out of the club and to his car. It's a nice slick black little thing, sitting all alone in an empty parking lot.

Your feet drag against the pavement as Nanami pulls you along. Despite his tight grip on your side, you feel like he's walking too fast, and that you can hardly keep up. You don't know if it's because your knees are knocking together from your orgasm, or if it's the alcohol, or if it's because your vision keeps trying to blackout. All you know is that your body is tired and heavy and so so hot and craving your brother's touch.

He opens the passenger seat only to adjust the seat, closing it before your heavy body can fall into it. For you, he opens the back door, and lays you across the back seat. You try to scoot up so your legs aren't hanging out the door, hoping to take a nap before getting home, and trying to make up your bad behavior by not giving your brother any more trouble.

"Aht aht, where are you going?" He says, hooking his hands under your knees and pulling you back towards him. You let out a surly moan when your cunt presses against the hardness of his jeans.

"Kento-nii... home..." You slur out, weakly trying to claw your way to the other side of the car. Through your blurred vision, you can see Nanami remove his shirt, throwing it on the floor and hurriedly pulling his pants down enough to pull his cock out.

"No. If you want to be disobedient and come out acting like a slut, it's only fair I treat you accordingly."

He thrusts into you, bottoming out with one press of his hips. One of your hands weakly swipes at him before dully falling against your forehead, missing him entirely. Despite it being the first time you've taken his dick, he starts at a fast, rough pace. Your limbs jerk at each hard thrusts, but your body's too tired to even move to stop him. All you can really do is try to curve your loud moans, not wanting to risk getting caught.

"You think someone else would take you to their home and fuck you? No, they'd fuck you wherever. You wouldn't even have the luxury of their car, but lucky for you, your brother's so nice." He reaches forward and remove your hand from your head to make you look at him. "I was trying to protect you from being some random one-night slut for some random boy at the bar, and you don't listen."

You try to apologize again, but your tongue is like bricks in your mouth, and all you can get out are small sounds of confused distress at his words. Your body's so hot and his fast strokes are both helping and making you crave more. With the little strength you pull together, you try to at least angle your hips so the head of his cock presses against your g-spot. He doesn't let you, keeping his hands tight on your hips to keep you from moving, not relenting even when pitiful whimpers flowed from your throat. The tears that form and fall from your eyes do nothing but edge him on more.

"What? What's wrong? Kento-nii is just showing you how anyone else would treat you. You should be thanking him for teaching you this lesson." He sticks one of his thumbs in your mouth, swirling it around your drying tongue when you proved too unresponsive to do it yourself. "You see how useless you are after being roofied? Just anyone could take advantage of you. You're lucky I was here instead."

You choke out a moan when his thumb presses against your clit, but the only reaction he got was a slight twitch in your hips. It's almost as if he'd said a trigger word that fully activated the drug, sapping all your energy to the point you couldn't even moan anymore. Your vision was starting to blackout and you could no longer help the temptation to succumb.

Nanami smirked as your eyes rolled back before finally closing. He leaned over you, and you could vaguely register his teeth against your throat, but even that wasn't enough to keep you conscious.

"I was hoping you could stay conscious through your punishment, but don't worry, baby. You'll learn your lesson whether you're awake or not."

When you wake the next day, you're completely naked and alone in Nanami's bed, covered with bites and hickeys, and a Nanami's prominent handprint is burned onto your thighs. There's throbbing between your legs and every movement is accompanied by a pained moan.

Nanami walks in just as you've wrestled yourself into one of his t-shirts. His hands are gentle as they caress your aching body, dancing up your skin before softly cupping your cheeks and sweetly kissing your lips. Everything is such a stark difference from the other night, you can't help but melt into his gasp.

"I hoped you learned your lesson yesterday, Princess. You know I hate treating you so roughly."

"Yes, Kento-nii."

After all, Nanami knows best.

#tw somnophilia #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon #tw: incest #nanami kento #jjk #nanami kento smut #nanami supremacy #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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sugarylawliet · 3 years

Text

bells (L lawliet x reader)

> warnings: ANGSTTT, major death note spoilers

> i know i altered the rain scene a bit and combined it with the monster speech but i thought it fit nicely okay let me live 😫

It wasn’t easy, working as part of the kira case. You knew that better than anyone. You knew that when you begged L to let you join the task force, and by the sorrowful look in his eyes in response to your request, he knew it too. What he also knew, though, was that you wouldn’t give up. No matter how many times he warned you of the dangers, “Y/N your heart could stop any minute,” “Y/N you’d have to say goodbye to your normal life,” “Y/N this puts us both in danger and i can’t lose you,” he knew all too well you would never let up. You would just persist on begging and begging, because you’re just like him. Stubborn. That’s just the thing he loved about you, but also the part of himself perhaps he hated the most. And so, he let you join the task force.

Now almost a year into the investigation, the large band of japanese police and american FBI agents dwindled down to a dedicated few, those who were willing to put their lives on the line to find kira. That few was you, L, Light Yagami, Cheif Yagami, Matsuda, Aizawa, and of course Watari. Misa tagged along too, living in the task force headquarters with everyone else though you weren’t sure exactly why. Maybe L kept her around because he couldn’t let go of the idea that she was the second kira. Stubborn. Though you didn’t agree with his theory, it wasn’t so bad having another girl around HQ.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen Ryuzaki around?” Light asked, walking into the main room placing a hand on your shoulder as you sat eyes glued to the surveillance footage you were to go over.

“Hmm, no actually. Haven’t seen him anywhere. Why, what’s up?” You turned around to face Light, the short nail of your thumb trapped between your front teeth; a habit you picked up from L.

“I don’t know it’s just... weird,” Light removes his hand to rub the back of his neck, “Usually Ryuzaki is always here going over something for the kira case, honestly it’s like the man never sleeps!” He lets out a laugh, and you smile too. It was hard to resist Light’s charm, he just had that effect on people. So charismatic, he couldn’t possibly be kira. Could he? “I guess it’s just strange not to see him anywhere.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll look for him, I could use a break anyways.” You push yourself away from the desk, standing up from your chair to stretch with a groan before heading up the stairs- you had an idea of where he might be.

“Let me know when you find him, I’ve got some case stuff I want his opinion on.”

“Yes sir officer Yagami!” You did a soldier salute in his direction mockingly.

“Don’t call me that,” Light laughed with a wide smile and narrow eyes, a bright laugh that filled the echoey room. You smiled warmly. He wasn’t kira.

_____________

You push open the heavy metal door leading to the roof top of the tall building HQ was located at, your eyes meeting with a slouched figure drenched in rain water. You had a feeling he might be here.

“L!” You called, walking out into the heavy rainfall to collect him. What the hell was he doing out here? He paid no attention to your calls, only continuing to gaze outward at the buildings below.

“L! L, what are you doing out here? You’ll get sick, come on!” You approached him, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention.

“I hear the bells, Y/N,” L took in a deep breath, taking his time to inhale the scent of fresh rain water and cold crisp city air. His dark eyes were clouded with thought, though you couldn’t tell which thoughts.

“What are you talking about? C’mon, let’s get inside.”

“Y/N love, I fear we may be parting ways soon.”

“Huh?”

“I believe I may have bitten off more than I can chew, Y/N. I’ve encountered a monster. A monster who always tells lies. Lying monsters are a real nuisance, you know? They’re much more cunning than other monsters. They pose as humans even though they have no understanding of the human heart; they eat even though they've never experienced hunger; they study even though they have no interest in academics; they seek friendship even though they do not know how to love. I’ve encountered this monster and, well, I’m afraid I might be eaten by it. Because in truth,” He takes in another thoughtful breath, pushing his raven hair dripping with water away from his forehead, “I am that monster.”

Amongst the hard rain pattering against steel, the scattered cracks of thunder, the sound of your own heavy breaths, it all felt silent. So silent it hurt. You couldn’t breath, sure you felt yourself taking in breaths but it wasn’t enough. Your lungs felt cold and wet. It was like L stole your language capabilities, like he reduced you to a little kid who only used their vocal chords to cry. You wanted to cry. You wanted to say ‘L, what do you mean?’ but in your chest you knew what he meant. Because you heard the bells too.

“L,” You began,

“Lawliet.”

“Hm?”

“Lawliet,” He turned to face you, running his hands down your arms before taking your hands, enclosing your fingers in his, “That’s my real name. Lawliet.”

You blinked hard. Were you choking? Suffocating? “We’ll be alright,” You smiled, letting out a stiff breath, “You didn’t get the name ‘best detective in the world’ for nothing, right?”

L lightly moves a hand to the back of your head and places a soft kiss to your lips. You kiss back, tasting the remnants of buttercream and black coffee on his chapped lips. You rake his dark hair through your fingers before he pulls away all too soon.

“Mhm. Let’s go inside love, you’ll get sick.” He hummed.

_____________

Your eyes flutter open, hand instinctively floating to the space next to you expecting to find L, but all you felt was the smooth linen of hotel bed sheets fuzzy with loose balls of thread and cotton. You groan, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you turn on your phone. Almost 9 AM? That’s late. Why wouldn’t L wake you?

You make your way down the stairs into the main HQ room, where the whole crew was gathered around a table studying the black notebook they collected from the yatsuba case. L, though, sat at his same chair, staring intensely at seemingly nothing, biting on his thumb nail.

“Ryuzaki, what’s the meaning of all this?” Matsuda asks raising his voice, “You’ve somehow gotten approval from another country to use the notebook for an execution?!”

“Watari, excellent work, thank you.” L ignores him completely. “First things first, please make arrangements to transport the notebook immediately.”

“Ryuzaki-” Light this time, “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m gonna try out the notebook for you.”

The task force all let out an audible gasp, including you.

“Ah, Y/N, you’re awake. I let you sleep in, I hope you don’t mind. You needed rest.”

“Wh- Ryuzaki, are you crazy? We know the notebook’s power is real, we’ve seen it before, how else do you think kira operates?!” You dismissed.

“And besides, who’s gonna write the name? If someone starts writing in the notebook, they’ll have to obey the 13 day rule and keep writing names forever!” Matsuda adds.

“It’s already been worked out, the person who will be writing names is a criminal scheduled to be executed in just over 13 days. If he’s still alive 13 days after writing the name, he’ll be pardoned from execution.”

You move closer to L, sitting in your usual seat next to him and take his hand, “But still...to sacrifice a life?-”

“We’re very close!” L yells, raising his fingers to rest at his temples, dropping his hand from yours. You look down at your feet. “If we work this out, the entire case will be solved.”

The flash of red from the monitors before you pulls your attention back up, the room illuminating a cherry hue like the toppings from L’s cake. An alarm begins to blare in your ear, sending your heart rate up as you jump from your chair. Matsuda holds on to your shoulder, concern painted all over his face. Jeez, he looks more scared than you. That’s Matsuda for you.

“What’s going on?! A blackout?!”

L sat calmly at his chair like nothing was wrong. You knew he wasn’t calm. He wasn’t chewing on his thumb. He was staring up at the red flashing monitor with a furrowed brow, his eyes full of deniel. Worry. L Lawliet, worrying. Who would have guessed.

The red hue of the computer screens flashed white all at once, one sentence displayed in black letters: All Data Deletion.

“Watari!” L cried. You had never seen him like this.

“Data deletion? What the hell is going on?!” Chief Yagami yelled impatiently.

“I told Watari that he should erase all information in the event that something were to happen to him.”

“If something were to happen... you don’t think?...”

“Where is the shinigami?!” L yelled.

You all frantically searched around the room, mumbles of “Where’d it go?” and “I don’t see it” filled the air. Tears brimmed your eyes as you scanned every corner of the room. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening.

“Everyone,” L called, “The shinigami-” He cut himself off, inhaling a quick sharp breath with wide eyes. He was still. No, no, no, no, no please this wasn’t happening. His metal spoon dropped to the floor with a loud clatter before he himself fell onto the cold tiling.

“Ryuzaki!” Light dove for him, cradling him in his arms as he lay silently struggling for air. You rushed over as well, sitting on the other side of him. You grasped his hand and brought it to your heart. “L, L, Lawliet, you’re fine, it’s okay stop it! This isn’t funny, STOP!” You yelled at him through voice cracks, struggling to swallow back sobs. He only stared back with wide eyes. Could he even see you? You brushed his thick ebony hair behind his ears and leaned in close. You could feel his shallow breathing on your nose. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re alright, right? We’re gonna be alright?” You begged of him. Did you expect him to respond?

Slowly, almost with hesitance to admit defeat, his eyes fluttered closed. No, god this wasn’t real. You were dreaming. “L! L stop it! Wake up, please just wake up. You can’t leave me here just wake up please!” You sobbed into his chest. It wasn’t moving. All the nights you fell asleep to the rhythm of his chest moving up and down with his breaths and his heartbeat following along- it was all gone. this was nothing like that. He was gone. And so you cried harder. Your throat hurt- sore from the sobbing and screaming. It was all you could do.

“Y/N...” Aizawa placed his hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, I’m sorry. it’s time to go.”

“Nuh-uh” You hummed through cries. You couldn’t bring yourself to say no. L would want it. But you weren’t letting him go. You weren’t giving up like that. Stubborn.

Aizawa crouched next to you. “I know...” He whispered. “You have to let go.”

You shook your head, you pleaded, begged for him to not take him. You needed him. But Aizawa was stronger than you. He walked around you, picking up L bridal style and taking him out of the room.

“No, no, please, Aizawa please! I need him, please,” You reached for L’s limp hand, but it only lifelessly fell from your grasp as Aizawa walked away.

You helplessly begged for L back, still crying tirelessly on the cold floor. For Aizawa to just let you hold him; keep him. Please, he’s fine, just let me have him, I’ll take care of him, please, I just need him. But nobody listened. It hurt. You almost thought you were next to have a heart attack because it hurt. And no matter how long you laid there crying, shaking, you didn’t stop. It didn’t stop hurting. Because you were stubborn. Just like him.

#im so sorry for the angst LOL #l lawliet x reader #L lawliet #L death note #ryuzaki #death note x reader #death note #light yagami #anime #anime x reader #death note oneshot

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imissjoongsmullet · 4 years

Text

Something Better (1/2)

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: fluff/angst (will lead to smut eventually because hi hello it’s me writing about Chan)

Summary: You and Chan have been best friends since before you can remember but now that you’re in college, things start to feel strange, especially with the way he acts when it comes to your boyfriend.

Read part 2

Warnings: part 1 of 2 (probably), cutesy friendship stuff, lots of stupid banter, bit of suggestive conversations, a good dash of angst, Changbin as your boyfriend (do you need a warning for that lol), oh and though this one is pretty clean, there will be smut in later chapters.

Word Count: 2k

Author’s Note: Ok so I’m going to try to keep this to 2 chapters but I can’t promise anything. Anyone who follows me knows I tend to get carried away it’s a thing... Also, yes, this is such a cliché trope but BOY DO I LOVE IT! Thanks again for the request. I had a great time writing this!

►

Five minutes to four. Almost there. The old man at the front of the auditorium had been droning on about the history of bleebidiblah wherever for the past two hours and you were very much ready for it all to end and for the weekend to begin. You heard a pencil drop beside you and turned to see your friend pick it back up and place it between his upper lip and nose.

“Looking great,” you whispered, fighting back a smile.

“I know,” he snickered, making the thing drop into his lap for the dozenth time that class.

Chan was kind of an idiot. But he was also kind of your best friend. You’d grown up in the same neighborhood and had been inseparable since kindergarten. He was the first person you’d went to when you’d found out Santa wasn’t real, the first person you’d ever sneaked out of the house to go to a party with and the first person you’d ever gotten blackout drunk with; not to mention he was the only one who knew about your irrational fear of oven toasters. He knew everything about you and you knew everything about him. You were a team, tied together so much so, that you’d even decided to follow each other to the same college.

“Hey,” he nudged your shoulder, “how about we go downtown tonight and celebrate the weekend? I heard it’s prolonged happy hour at GB’s.”

The twinkle in his eyes made you want to say yes; it was a very tempting offer. “Can’t,” you replied eventually, scrunching up your nose at him.

“Come on, why not?” said Chan, leaning in and shaking your thigh, “we can go to karaoke after and you can crash at my place. I bought so many Doritos and they’re not gonna eat themselves.”

You bit your lip. “I kind of promised Changbin I’d go over tonight.” You already knew what was coming.

“Again?” he exclaimed a bit too loudly, drawing the attention of some of the other students, “you stayed over like three times this week already.” He sagged in his chair, rolling his eyes at you.

“Don’t be a child,” you retorted shoving him lightly.

That put some of his smile back in place. “You know, I think this Changbin guy isn’t the one for you,” said Chan, pretending to look pensive, “he’s got shifty looking eyes… and his nose is too big.”

You couldn’t keep from chuckling. Dipping down in your chair out of sight of your teacher, you turned to your friend. “You’re so full of shit, what does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe he’s having evil, shifty, big-nosed plans and you don’t even know it.”

“Your nose is big too, you know?” you said, pinching his nose.

He slapped your hand away and pinched you back, which made you cry out so loud the teacher went silent, eyes in your direction. Your cheeks flushed hot but just as you were about to apologize to the entire auditorium, the bell rang, pushing everyone around you into motion.

“Oops,” said Chan, eyes full of mischief as he rose from his chair along with everyone else.

You packed your things and followed him, kicking at his heels pettily.

“Seriously though, all the staying over,” Chan went on once you were out in the packed hallway, “sure he isn’t tiring you out?” The wicked grin on his face told you exactly what he meant.

“Chan, I swear if you don’t shut up,” you started but he interrupted fast.

“I just mean, you’re a studious girl,” he explained, grabbing your shoulders and rubbing them, “you can’t have a shifty-eyed boy like him distract you from your super important studies with sexy times.”

“And you taking me out to GB’s is helping me with my studies how exactly?”

“At least I’m not trying to put my dick in you every single night.”

“Chan!” you yelled out, looking around frantically at all the other students within earshot of your conversation.

“Aww,” Chan chuckled, hugging you closer, putting his lips near your ear, “you’re so cute when you’re all flustered.”

You were extremely happy he was behind you and couldn’t see the look on your face because you were even redder than before, staring eyes-wide into space. For as close and you and Chan were, you couldn’t help but feel shy whenever he mentioned sexual stuff around you. Not that you weren’t a sexual person; you just didn’t really know how to act around him when it came to those things. It didn’t help that you felt him all over you now, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand right up.

“Listen,” you said, shrugging out of his grip and trying to compose yourself, “how about we hang out tomorrow night? I’m sure the drinks will be just as toxic and delicious then.”

He came up next to you. “Fine, but you’re buying,” he said, “you’ve been leaving me lonely far too much. I demand compensation.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Fine.”

[I’ll be there in 10]

You hurriedly typed as you left Changbin’s place. You were meeting Chan for coffee. You were supposed to work on an assignment together that afternoon but you felt more than a little distracted after the previous night hadn’t ended up as fun as you’d hoped. You didn’t even really remember how it had started but you and Changbin had gotten into an argument that had lasted for most of the night. It wasn’t anything heartbreaking; it was just frustrating that your relationship wasn’t going the way you’d imagined it. And now you’d have to face Chan and pretend everything was okay because you were far too prideful to give him the satisfaction of saying ‘I told you so’.

He was waiting at your typical spot in the back of the café, his notebook ready on the table. You were happily surprised to find him jotting things down as you walked up. When you sat down, however, you realized he’d just been doodling obscenities in the margins of his book.

“Good afternoon,” you said, closing his book and grabbing the coffee he’d ordered for you.

You felt his eyes on you as you sipped the burning hot drink. You were just waiting for it at this point.

“So,” he started, amusement dripping down his face, “how was last night?”

“Shut up,” you countered, opening up your own book and looking anywhere but at him.

You and Chan were used to working together. Chan always had problems focusing and you were always there to give him the kick in the ass he needed to get the work done. On the other hand, Chan was the one coming up with the most creative ideas for your projects so, despite your differences, you worked quite well off of each other.

For a while, things were fine: Chan was on his second coffee and the ideas flowed generously; you just had to write them down and turn them into usable content. Things were nice and light as they should be. You took a break and ordered waffles, enjoying them without any mention of Changbin; it was great. You talked about concerts you were excited to go to together in the coming months, showed each other movie trailers of stuff you really wanted to watch together and you laughed at the absolute dumbest things. You thought perhaps it was the caffeine that was making you both so silly.

Unfortunately, after that initial boost of energy, came the inevitable crash.

By the time Chan was picking at the ice at the bottom of his empty third coffee, things were started to shift. You were trying to finish up the assignment but it was clear Chan was starting to get burnt out. Gradually, conversation trickled away from the project at hand and into less productive territory.

“What is it you like about him?” he asked, staring zombie-like into his cup.

“Not now, Chan,” you sighed, eyes on your laptop screen. You felt his fingers at your side, poking lazily.

“No, come on,” he said, voice sleepy, “I wanna know.”

You stopped typing and took a deep breath.

“He’s—” you started, trying to think of something while your head replayed how you’d argued the night before.

Chan let out a chuckle. “Yeah, he sounds great.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you groaned, a little harsher than you’d meant it, “let’s just get this done.”

But Chan didn’t let up. Your inability to define your love for Changbin had apparently made him very eager to tease you and it was getting harder and harder to ignore him.

“I bet he sleeps with his socks on,” he said, sipping his empty drink loudly, “weirdo.”

“Chan please.”

“Tell me he doesn’t.”

“Chan.”

“He totally does, doesn’t he!”

“Chan I swear if you don’t shut up I’m gonna kick you where it really hurts!”

“Fine,” he said, still laughing, putting up his hands in defense, “jeez, I was just having fun.” Then he came closer and, entirely oblivious, wrapped his arms around you tight. “No more coffee for you, it makes you mean.” He gave your temple a quick kiss and, chuckling, got up from his seat.

“Gotta pee, this coffee is going right through me, be right back.”

It occurred to you, as you watched him walk off, how odd your relationship with Chan was. Or maybe Chan was just an odd person? Or maybe he was simply acting oddly recently? You tried to shrug off the confusing thoughts and instead opened up your phone. The last text from Changbin was right at the top. You clicked it and smiled, rereading the sweet message he’d sent you the day before. You should probably make up with him soon, you decided.

After another half hour of half-assed adjustments, you and Chan finally called it a day.

“If you could input your slides right after mine, I’ll do the touch ups and bring it all to class,” you said, staring at your laptop screen, “we should probably go over it together the day before though.”

Chan’s face was in his arms on the table, looking drowsy. “Yeah, sounds good,” he mumbled, “I’ll type them out by Monday, we’ve got most of the stuff down already, it shouldn’t be hard.”

“Good,” you nodded, finally letting yourself sit back and relax. You closed your eyes in a long yawn as you stretched out your arms. When you opened them again Chan was looking at you.

“Tired huh?” he said, his lips curling up into a knowing smirk.

You stared back at your friend blankly. “You know what? Yes, I am actually. I stayed up most of the night.”

His eyebrows rose up in surprise but he didn’t speak.

“And that’s all I’m gonna say on the matter so can we please wrap this up now?” you added, “I think I should go see Changbin later tonight cause— well, we just have some things to discuss.”

“Wait, hold up,” said Chan, straightening up beside you and, finally, all laughter was wiped from his face, “I thought we were going out tonight.”

The memory of your promise hit you, throwing a small dose of guilt over your head. “I’m sorry, Chan, really. I just got some things to do—”

“Some things to do?” he interrupted, now definitely irritated, “you’re gonna ditch your best friend for some mediocre sex?”

“Chan that’s not what this is,” you started but you knew you’d set him off and there was no going back.

“Whatever,” he snapped, “it’s fine I’ll call some people who actually wanna hang out—”

“Chan—” you tried, shocked at the rapidity with which his mood had switched.

“—instead of someone who’ll leave me for the first boy to give her the least bit of attention—”

“Hey!” you said, getting up from your seat, heating up from the sting of his words.

Chan got up as well, the look in his eyes pained. “I said it’s fine,” he repeated, placing some money on the table and walking out.

(part 2)

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petersasteria · 3 years

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧? - 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Pairing: Manservant!Haz Osterfield x CEO!Single mom!Reader

HO Masterlist || Ultimate Masterlist || Inspired by the Disney request from a while back

DISCLAIMER: *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either products or the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After being unsuccessful in getting acting jobs, Harrison looks for a job to pay his bills. You’re a spoiled rich kid who abruptly becomes the CEO of your family’s company after your parents decided to retire early.

Special thanks to @fancyxholland for the banner 🤍

2,323 words

“Haz, what’re you doing?” Tom, Harrison’s best friend asked him. Tom Holland has been best friends with Harrison since they were 15. Both of them were aspiring actors, but they’re both struggling to get the parts that they want. Eventually, Harrison decided to find a real job. Thus, looking through the ad section on the newspaper.

“I’m looking for a job.” He shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal, really. He just wants to help his mum in paying the bills and since his acting career is dormant, he figured it’d be best to pursue something realistic and something quick.

Tom looked at him dumbfounded. He was in shock. Tom never thought Harrison, his best mate, would actually look for a job. “Um.. why? You have an audition to prepare for.” Tom pointed out.

“So?” Harrison said, not looking up from the newspaper.

“So?” Tom mocked and rolled his eyes. “It means you have no time to look for a job. You have to run your lines, memorize them, and internalize. Maybe get into character like a method actor or something, I don’t know! So, you can’t look for a job.”

“Joke’s on you because I just found one!” Harrison smiled and took off the cap of the marker with his teeth. He encircled the ad for working at a restobar as a waiter. He covered the marker again and put it on the table. He stood up from his seat and quickly went to his room to prepare his resume.

Tom quickly followed him and asked, “Aren’t you going to tell me what job you’re planning to apply for?”

“A waiter.” Harrison said simply as he typed away on his laptop.

Tom raised his eyebrows and nodded, “Okay. Well, good luck.”

“You should find a job too, Tom. We’re 20 for fuck’s sake. We’ve been auditioning for roles since we were 15 and nothing seems to be happening. Let’s just get a job, mate.” Harrison sighed in defeat.

“Fine.” Tom said, crossing his arms. “But let me just get through this audition I have tomorrow and then I’ll look for a job straight after that. I’m starting to go broke anyway and I’ll honestly panic if butterflies come out of my wallet instead of money.”

“Same.” Harrison laughed.

Harrison got the job. The restobar was desperate for people, so Harrison convinced Tom to apply there too and Tom got in as well. Now, they’re both working there.

The restobar was always busy and the customers tipped generously. It was great for Harrison and Tom. The restobar was more packed in the evening and during the day, families would have lunch there. The food was delicious and the staff is very accommodating. The restobar only had two floors and at the back, was the outdoor area where people could eat and have a cigarette. It was also there that jamming sessions would happen every night. It was awesome.

It’s late in the afternoon and Harrison was wiping a table clean after clearing the dishes. Tom was currently sitting on the bar stool at the bar counter while watching the news. At this hour, the restobar was low on customers and that gave the whole staff time to relax a bit.

Tom rubbed the drowsiness from his eyes and blinked when he saw the news about you; Y/N Y/L/N. Tom read the headline and his eyes widened. He turned to Charles, the bartender, and said, “Hey mate, could you turn it up a bit? Thank you.”

Charles turned up the volume a little causing all of the staff to pay attention to the news. Harrison, who just finished cleaning the table, was carrying the plastic box they put the plates in when he joined in to watch the news. He stood next to where Tom was sitting as the reporter rambled about you being the newest CEO of Y/L/N Inc.

Tom snorted, “Was it just last week that Y/N was found blackout drunk somewhere?”

“Yeah.” Charles laughed. “One of my mates told me that they saw her smoking weed once.”

Harrison looked at the two of them and shook his head, “That’s not very CEO-like, innit?”

“Sounds like a spoiled rich kid to me.” Jessica, the hostess, said. “If you Google her name, you’ll find endless articles about her lavish vacations and she’s profligate.”

“What does profligate even mean?” Tom asked as he turned to Jessica.

“It means she’s extravagant; she spends her money a lot on useless things.” Chazia explained and Tom nodded, satisfied with the answer.

“She’s filthy rich, though. She recently bought a small house in the Hamptons as a birthday gift for herself.” Elouise chimed in as she scrolled through her phone after Googling Y/N.

“These rich people will never learn, I swear. They think stuff is just handed to them because they’re rich. They’re all the same.” Hritz shook her head in annoyance.

“She’d never marry a poor bloke that’s for sure.” Luke said with a chuckle. “What a shame, though. She’s hot.”

“True.” Charles nodded in agreement.

“I mean, we shouldn’t judge her. What Elouise is seeing on Google right now are assumptions and one side of the story which means everything the tabloids say about her are just the side of the people who make those articles. We don’t know her story. For all we know, she doesn’t want to be a CEO. And while I agree that she’s spoiled, we should keep in mind that she was born into a rich family and she had no choice to be born into that family. With that being said, we should just let her be.” Harrison said before going to the kitchen to drop off the box of dirty plates.

“What’s up with him?” Charles asked Tom.

Tom shrugged and got out of the bar stool to check on Harrison. Tom entered the kitchen just as Harrison was about to go back out in the main area.

“Are you okay?” Tom asked and Harrison nodded. “Then what was all that rant about? Are you secretly Y/N?” He joked causing Harrison to break into a smile and chuckle.

“Nah. If I were Y/N, I wouldn’t be here right now.” Harrison said. “I’m okay, though. I really am. It’s just that I feel kind of bad for her, y’know? Everyone’s always watching her every move and judging her for it. She’s young too; she’s our age! She’s 20 and she’s a CEO already. I personally think that the reason why she’s being so reckless and extravagant is because she knew about her fate. She knew that she’ll be a CEO and that’s why she’s already living her life to the extreme. Because she knows that when she’s a CEO already, she won’t have time for anything else, not even herself.”

“I guess you’re right.” Tom trailed off.

“Of course I am. When was I ever wrong?” Harrison asked.

“When you dated Lea Berry. You were wrong about her.” Tom laughed and Harrison rolled his eyes at the mention of his ex.

“Yeah, fuck off.” Harrison shook his head and left the kitchen as Tom followed while laughing his ass off.

Being born into a rich family was definitely a blessing. You were an only child and growing up, you got everything you wanted. As you grew, you realized that it was rather lonely living in a mansion. Your only best friend was your personal maid, Angela and she was as old as your mum. Angela played with you everyday and she took care of you. While your parents loved you very much, they were never really around often. You were like Richie Rich basically. Maybe that’s why you loved that movie so much.

Your education was very… fancy. You studied at an international school for your whole life and you decided that you didn’t want to go to university because you didn’t know what you wanted to do. Your parents supported your decision and because of that, they’ve decided to retire early and leave the company to you. Now, you’re the youngest CEO.

In terms of your love life, you only had flings. Relationships weren’t your thing. In fact, your relationship with your first boyfriend only lasted for two months. After that, you had endless flings here and there. You also do one night stands because it was easy. You kept safe, though. Protection is always important.

Your friends were really nice people. They weren’t snobs and you adored that about them. You loved the fact that you were associated with people like them. They would give to charities often and they would do outreach programs in third world countries. Sometimes, you’d tag along if your parents aren’t dragging you to a boring fancy event.

You and your friends would go to different countries just to get drunk and forget about your rich kid lives. All of you loved running away from what society expected of you. Like every normal person, you loved letting loose. That’s why it pisses you off when people call you out for going out a lot because you’re a normal person like them.

“Y/N, darling, I hope you’re ready to take over.” Your mum told you. She was excited for you to replace your father in the business. She’s been waiting for it ever since you were born. Your father was kind of bittersweet because he wasn’t ready to step down yet, but at the same time he knew he had to let go at some point.

“Just promise me you’ll take care of the business.” You dad smiled sadly. You eagerly nodded and said, “I won’t let you down, dad. I’ll do my best.”

“I trust you, sweetheart.” Your dad hugged you and kissed the top of your head. He pulled away and you bid your parents goodbye. You looked around your dad’s old office as you watched your maids pick up box after box of your dad’s stuff. One maid grabbed the picture frame on your dad’s desk and you were able to catch a glimpse of the photo. It was a family picture.

“You can leave that here.” You told the maid and she put back the photo before packing up the last box and leaving you all alone.

You took a deep breath and sat down on your dad’s chair. You exhaled through your mouth and grabbed the picture frame. It was an old photo of you and your parents. You could remember that day like it was yesterday.

You and your parents were in New York for your dad’s business trip. You were only seven years old and it was your first time abroad. Of course, you didn’t want to stay in the office at all. You wanted to explore. So, you and your mum walked around the city and you arrived at Central Park.

Your mum bought you a hotdog and for some reason that made you really happy. About thirty minutes later, your dad joined both of you. All three of you played tag and somehow your dad ended up giving you a piggyback ride whilst your mum stood beside your dad, throwing her head back in laughter.

A college student who was studying photography was nearby and captured the moment. They approached the three of you and instead of getting angry for taking your picture without permission, your dad bought it from them. Now, that picture stays in his office.

It’s been years and your dad didn’t have the heart to replace the wholesome family picture. To him, he’ll always remember you as his little girl who loved adventure and meeting new people.

You rummaged through the drawers and saw an unopened envelope that had your name on it. You brows furrowed in confusion as you grabbed and opened it.

To my little girl,

The time has come for you to replace me and I can’t believe that time came early. I have to remind myself that you’re not little anymore, but I know you’re still the same girl I raised and darling, I raised you right. Your mother and I raised you right.

I won’t lie… this job is hard and tiring, but I know you’ll be able to push through. You’re strong and smart and tough. I trust that you’ll make the right decisions and I’m confident that our company is in good hands. One day there’ll come a time when you’ll step down and pass it on to your child and I’ll be gone by then. Just know that when the time comes, you did an excellent job.

My father wasn’t there for me when I needed him because he passed on and I had no one because my mother was busy taking care of my younger siblings. What I’m trying to say is that I’m here for you whenever you need me. Call me anytime.

Love, dad

Your heart warmed at your dad’s letter as you put it on top of your desk. You shook off your nerves, got up from your seat and walked out of your office. You stood outside your office and watched the staff as they did their job. You cleared your throat and said, “Excuse me? May I have your attention please?”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at you. You gave them a nervous smile and said, “Hi everyone! As you may know, my father has decided to retire early. I’m his daughter, Y/N, and I will be replacing him. I’m not like my father and I know all of you loved him, but I’ll do my best and hopefully, we can all get along.”

Everyone just stared at you until one person spoke up, “You have some big shoes to fill in, sweetheart. Big shoes.”

You nodded and coughed awkwardly, “Alright, back to work people.”

This was going to be harder than you thought.

* * * *

After I post this, I’m removing everyone on my taglist and I’m making a new one. It’s 2021 and I gotta renew that shit. New year, new taglist.

𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @silencetheslaves @imeanlifesabitshit @joyleenl @hjoficrecs @blueleatherbag @poguesholland @harryismysunflower @lonikje @lizzyosterfield @turtoix @badreputationlove @starlight-starks @swiftmind @sovereignparker @pearce14 @justanamesstuff @chewymoustachio @cocoamoonmalfoy @hotforharrison @euphorichxlland @givebuckyhisplumsnow

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @justasmisunderstoodasloki @allyz @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual @theonly1outof-a-billion @piscesparker @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @pearly-pisces @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess @beequeen8020 @justafangirlduh @sarcasticallywitty15

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield series #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield #haz osterfield series #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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kpopcotton · 4 years

Text

Warm ~ Yang Jeongin

a/n ~ another request !! thank you again, and i’m so so sorry for the wait !! • Prompt: cuddles with best boy jeongin • Genre: fluff, college student!au • Warning(s): none • Reader Gender: gender neutral • Word Count: 1.6k

it had been a rough week, to say the least, your courses deciding to lay the work on thick. you barely had any free time between your class schedule, your job, and your assignments. there was a collective six hours of sleep over the span of the seven days under your belt, and you were practically living off energy drinks and junk food at that point. sadly, your friends had a mostly free schedule, meaning they could hang out. jeongin, being the saint that he is, gladly provided you with updates on the adventures through texts and the occasional meme so you wouldn’t feel left out or out of the loop when the time came for you to rejoin them in their ventures.

luckily, you finally could, the last of your assignments completed and submitted, however, exploring the city at night with friends was the last thing on your mind. all you wanted to do was switch your laptop over to Netflix, find a boring show, cuddle up in bed, and pass out. it seemed like the most pleasurable thing in the world.

you texted jeongin your excitement and plans, him sharing the same sentiment which put a smile on your face. you texted him good night and he wished you “sweet dreams” before you stood up to get ready for bed. with your head full of comforting thoughts and the promise of a quiet night in, you decided to hop in the shower to wash away the stress that had come with your studies. you had started to rinse the conditioner out of your hair when you heard the front door open. three familiar and distinct voices filling your dorm room. your roommate, jisung, was home. with company.

a steady thrum of annoyance started to pump your heart instead of contentment. you have nothing against your roommate, being as he usually is so sweet and considerate, but dealing with his so-called group “3racha”, was not in your plans for the night. you do remember a rushed text that had quite a few misspellings from him saying he might be home late, yet he failed to mention bringing his friends, chan, and changbin with him.

you dried your hair as best you could, departing from the shower and glowering at yourself in the mirror when you heard their laughter, before you wrapped yourself in a towel and left the bathroom. you bumped right into chan upon stepping out, his ears turning red as he took in your appearance, he tried to stutter something about not knowing you were home. you didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed, more tired than anything, so you just muttered something to ease his nerves and continued to the living room where you knew the other two would be.

“han jisung,” you whine, causing said boy to look up from his phone on the couch with a confused expression, though even in your sleepy haze you noticed the fear in his eyes.

“you’re still up?” is his response. you roll your eyes and instantly tug at his ear. changbin’s laugh burst from him, watching jisung struggle.

“you didn’t tell me some friends were coming over,” you say with clenched teeth, a fake smile pulling at your lips. you aren’t sure if jisung heard you over his own whining, but you weren’t sure if you cared.

“‘m sorry, y/n! believe me! i meant to text you! i coulda swore i did! h-have mercy!” jisung manages to pry your hand off his ear and hold it in between his own as he looks up at you with pleading eyes. “they’ll only be over for a little bit! chan wants to go over a new idea of a song!”

“hey, don’t throw me under the bus!” chan suddenly speaks up from the hallway, his ears still red. “i swear han was the one to suggest his place! if i’d known you were home, i would have declined!”

you appreciate the honesty, but you notice jisung doesn’t. his eyes are wide and staring straight at chan, trying to tell him an earful without saying it out loud. you breathe out a chuckle, adjusting your towel with a sigh. “it’s okay, just -- just please keep it down, i really need sleep.”

“yeah, no worries!” chan says instantly, smiling shyly.

“you can count on us,” changbin smiles as well. “you won’t even notice we’re here!”

“i better not,” you laugh, though your tone is more directed at jisung as you look him in the eye. “and you owe me dinner, han jisung.”

==≎==

you realize you shouldn’t have trusted 3racha when they said they would be quiet. they’re three lively boys for goodness sake, they have enough energy to power a small town during a blackout. you had to give them credit, though, you could tell for the first hour they were trying to stay quiet for you. perhaps they thought you had fallen asleep, that maybe they could be louder as the night progressed because it seemed like they hadn’t calmed down for at least thirty minutes. you wished you had fallen asleep when they were quieter, but there was always something loud to wake you up just as you were on the cusp on falling into dreamland.

you had given up all hope of falling asleep in your dorm, the only thing your exhausted mind could think of was to call jeongin in hopes that he would save you. before you could process what you did, he was already picking up the call.

“y/n? shouldn’t you be sleeping? i thought you were done with your assignments?” he sounded worried, and there was something that told you he hadn’t gone to bed yet. you felt slightly thankful for that.

“i am. but -- but guess who’s staying at my apartment?” you cringe at the sound of your voice, but power through it when you hear your best friend’s faint laugh on the other end of the line. from somewhere in the house, you hear jisung yell something.

“3racha?”

“3racha.” you could feel a smile start to grow on your face, glad jeongin knew exactly what was going on.

“want to come over?”

“i thought you’d never ask.”

==≎==

you luckily lived in the same building as jeongin, him living on a higher floor than yours, which made the trip so much easier for someone as sleep-deprived as you. your eyes were barely open as you made your way to the elevator, pressing the button to his floor and then the one to close the doors faster. you decided to lean against the wall with your eyes closed for the duration of the ride upwards, it already being so much more soothing than your dorm with its soft music. the gentle ding notifying you that you had reached the floor almost didn’t wake you, however, the doors opening and a soft call of your name did.

your heart melts when you open your eyes to see jeongin waiting for you outside the elevator. he has a sweet smile as he holds out a hand for you, which you gladly take. you walk yourself into his embrace as a hello. he’s dressed in a big pink hoodie and grey joggers that engulf you in his scent and warmth.

“you were waiting for me?” you mumble into the fabric covering his shoulder.

“of course,” he laughs, the thought funny before he can even get it out. “who would wake you up if you fell asleep along the way?”

“good point,” you smile, your arms tightening around his waist.

“i mean -- uh -- hyunjin and his boyfriend are sleeping too, so i also didn’t want you to knock on the door and, you know, wake them up,” he adds sheepishly, you feel his arm reach up to rub at his neck. you simply nod against him. “let’s head inside, it’s cold out here.”

you’re barely there mentally when jeongin pulls away from you, you register his warmth leaving from against you and his hand slipping back into yours as he leads you to his door. he punches in his lock code and opens it for you, his hands occupied by both holding the door open and leading your worn frame inside. he lets you go for only a moment to do his best to silently close his door before he wraps you in a blanket he prepared and leads you to his room.

his laptop is open on his desk showing a history article and you take notice of the multiple tabs he has open. there are a few papers scattered on his desk as well. you feel a sinking pressure in your chest when you realize you probably won’t be getting the cuddles you were sleepily hoping for. jeongin sits you on his bed and notices a soft pout on your lips with a smile.

“don’t worry, that’s,” he gestures to his laptop. “not due for another week. i was getting a head start. let me save everything and we can cuddle, okay?”

you nod, your spirits instantly lifted, and lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling and watching the shadows dance across the surface. soon, the room is bathed in darkness and jeongin’s warmth returns to you in his bed. he awkwardly slides into place next to you, moving his comforter to lay over the both of you.

once he stops moving, you know he’s waiting for you to cuddle up to him. you instantly leave the blanket he gave you behind for his arms and you can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves you when his arms wrap around you and pull you close. all you can feel is the softness of his clothes, his body heat, and the rise and fall of his chest and it is the most amazing thing you’ve felt all week.

“thank you,” you sigh dreamily, snuggling your face into his hoodie. you barely register his response, your sleepless nights catching up to you faster than a muscle car on a race track, and you let yourself sink into the peaceful sleep your best friend brings you.

#i'm actually proud of myself #i really enjoyed writing this #i hope you enjoy it :)))#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids x stay #stray kids x you #stray kids x male reader #yang jeongin x reader #i.n. stray kids #i.n scenarios #yang jeongin #bang chan #seo changbin #han jisung #hwang hyunjin

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wthzoe · 4 years

Text

chapter 6 - love can make the world go round

'cause in a world where everybody Hates a happy ending story It's a wonder love can make the world go 'round’

series masterlist - here

previous | next

a/n: i was hesitating to post this because i saw other people deciding not to post anything for blackout tuesday(?) but i really wanted to update for those who were waiting. was this a bad idea after all? is it too insensitive? also, i honestly don’t know if this chapter’s written well as i’m not in the best condition emotionally but as i said, i wanted to update. i promised i’ll get better soon and i’ll deliver better updates. i hope u still enjoy this :)

A week has passed since Kuroo’s last encounter with you and every single day had been hell for the male. Every passing second tortured him with the feeling of missing you. He longed to see your face, hear your voice, make you laugh, play with the boys and the sorts. How he wished everything went back to the way it was but instead he had to face the reality of living the rest of his days without you.

He drove to school as usual, went through classes as usual, practice volleyball as usual then go home as usual. This was how everything was like for him before meeting you but he couldn’t believe how empty it felt.

He shut the door behind him and sigh, planning to sleep immediately just so the next day would come quicker. Drying his hair with a towel, he walks out to the kitchen to grab a can of soda. Just as he raised the can to take a sip, he heard a series of knocks on the door. Confused, he opened the door ever so slightly before fully swinging it open.

The past week was filled with what seemed to be never-ending tears. Though you didn’t show the boys how utterly down you were, they felt that something was wrong with their Mama. You hadn’t gone to school but you did go to work. The three were also wondering where Kuroo was but they never tried to ask in fear of making you even sadder.

Everything felt so empty for you. You felt guilty to admit it to yourself but even being with your boys didn’t make you feel any better. You thought that you were hiding your emotions well. Forcing yourself to smile when one of the boys talk to you and playing with them like you always do. Unfortunately for you, the boys were smarter than they seem, especially Kazuo.

That night you were so focused on trying to act normal that you didn’t notice Kazuo call his brothers before huddling up with them, whispering something among themselves. Next thing you knew was Masao tugging at your apron while the other two were behind him.

“Yes, baby?”

“Mama, we want to go to Kuroo.”

You choked on your own spit when you heard his request. You were about to turn it down when you saw how determined his expression was, as if this was something he absolutely had to do. That goes for the two as well. You sighed defeatedly. How could you say no to those faces? You also thought that it wouldn’t hurt to make up with him, even though there was no fight in the first place.

“Okay. But only if you promise to behave.” They all yelled a ‘yes!’ in chorus.

So, there you were, standing in front of Kuroo’s door, totally not gaping at his muscles. His hair laid flat on his head, dripping wet while a towel hangs loosely from his right shoulder. He seemed like he’d just taken a shower which explains why he was topless.

“Did we come at a bad time?”

He stared at you for at least another minute. “(Y/N)?”

“I mean, yeah? Who else could I b-“ You were cut off by him suddenly pulling you towards him. Heat rushed to your cheeks as soon as you felt his muscular body hugging you. “K-Kuroo?”

“I missed you. So much.” Your heart swelled upon hearing his words.

“Me, too.”

Kuroo spent the rest of the night playing with the boys while you watch them with a smile on your face. You’ve never seen the boys this happy except for when they’re with Kuroo. It made you lowkey jealous yet happy at the same time. Nothing could ever make you happier than seeing your little angels happy.

Soon enough they were sleeping in your arms, having played too much. Kuroo offered to carry Kazuo and Masao while you carry Takeo. The short walk to your apartment was silent but not awkward. It was comfortable. When the boys were tucked into their beds you both stand back, watching over them. Seeing them sleep with smile on their faces left a warm feeling in your heart. Out of nowhere Kuroo grabs your hand.

“I have something to tell you.” You tilt your head, silently telling him to go on. “I like you. No, scratch that. I love you.”

You were sure your face turned into the brightest shade of red. Thankfully the room was dark so maybe he didn’t see. You wanted to say ‘I love you, too’ right then and there and make the two of you official but the extra-ness inside you wouldn’t allow this to be how you two start.

“I’ll get back to you on that. Is that alright?” Kuroo pulled you into a tight hug once again.

“It’s more than alright.”

You thought about how to make things official between the two of you over the weekend. None of your ideas satisfied you, though. To say you were stressed was an understatement.

The weekend passed by quickly and before you knew it you were in front of the university. The fear you felt was overwhelming. The thought of having to walk through those dreaded hallways scared you to your core. You were just about to turn around and leave but Kuroo grabbed you by your backpak before you could even take a step.

“It’s gonna be alright. I’m here for you, okay?” Your heart calmed down unbelievably fast when you heard his words.

You took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Pretending to be okay during classes was easy but it would’ve been easier if Bokuto, Akaashi and Kuroo were there with you. Especially Kuroo. Unfortunately, they have a match later on so instead of attending classes, they went straight to the gym to practice before leaving. Now that you thought about it, you’ve never seen your friends play. You pull out your phone to text Kuroo.

To: Tetsu

at what time is ur game?

You were about to set your phone down, not expecting him to reply so quickly.

From: Tetsu

around 3, depends on the previous match tho. y?

To: Tetsu

i’ll bring the boys to watch

From then on you couldn’t stop watching the clock right above the whiteboard. Other people would’ve thought you were listening intently to the professor but no. You were waiting for the clock to strike two. When it did and the professor dismissed the class, you were out in no time.

Your boss and the triplets’ teacher were surprised when they received your call but were glad that you seemed better than you were for the past week. Walking into the arena, you were surprised to see so many people there. You thought only the professional games got this much supporters but now you see even college ones do, too.

You quickly find a seat then settled down before looking for Kuroo. Soon enough you spot him practicing his serves. Just as you were about to call him you heard some girls from behind you.

“Triplets? Geez.”

“Wow, she’s so brave bringing them along.”

You felt your mood drop upon hearing their words. You didn’t want your boys to hear such words and hurt them so you glance at them. Thankfully, they were too busy watching Kuroo, Bokuto and Akaashi warm up. Seeing them enjoying their time made you feel better.

The sound of the whistle was heard throughout the arena, signaling the players to go to their respective positions. You see Kuroo look around, probably looking for you and the boys so you help him by waving your arm. He smiled as soon as he spotted you, giving your boys an enthusiastic wave.

“Boys, Tetsu is waving at you, look. Cheer him on.”

You expected them to shout at least a ‘good luck’ but instead, “Go, Papa!”

Your eyes widen at their cheer. Both you and Kuroo were not expecting it, seeing how both of you turned bright red. You felt stares burning through the back of your head, probably from the girls earlier, causing your heart to beat even faster.

Unbeknownst to you, Kuroo had just gained even more reason to win. He can’t afford to lose now knowing he had the four of you cheering for him.

“Oh? Papa, eh?” Bokuto teased from behind him.

“Shut up, Bo.”

With that, the match started. Kuroo almost scored as much as Bokuto did due to the unbelievable amount of motivation he got from you and the boys. For some reason, winning seemed to be ten times easier with you being there for him.

When the match ended, he immediately went to where you were. You smiled at him as he approaches, about to give him a hug when the boys beat you to it.

“So cool!” Kazuo exclaimed as Kuroo picked him and Takeo up.

Meanwhile, you pick up Masao. “Teach me!” He chimed.

“Me, too!”

“Boys, hush. Give him a break.”

Kuroo chuckled before whispering something in their ears. Masao, being left out, tilted his head.

“Mama?”

“Yes, Takeo?” The three of them glanced at each other before he speaks again. “Can Tetsu become papa?”

You choked on your own spit. Déjà vu. You struggled to find the right words to stay, becoming more aware of the people who could hear your conversation.

“Takeo, I-“

“I don’t mind being their papa.” For the second time that day, you turned bright red. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down then smile.

“Me, too.” You walk closer to him, giving him a peck once you were close enough. “Be their papa?”

“Of course.” Kuroo answered before reconnecting your lips.

“Eww!” The boys exclaimed, causing the two of you to separate. You both laugh at them then went home to have your first official family night together.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo imagines #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro imagines #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou imagine #kuroo tetsurou imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu au #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu #with a smile series

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 19

Grief | Survivors Guilt

Ao3

-o-o-o-o-

It's a cold autumn night when Tim enters the manor. There's been an early snowfall this year, one that has Tim shrugging off his winters coat and hanging it up beside the manor's front door along with his gloves.

He looks around the foyer, thankful to immediately spot Alfred walking towards him from the familiar hallway leading towards the study. However, any kind of good mood Tim was in from being back at the manor for the first time in what was probably close to a month leaves when Alfred gets close enough for him to see the little, worrying details.

He's not wearing a suit or tie. Just dress pants and a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. There's spots of red on Alfred's sleeves... and a rag is held in his wrinkled hands, stained with blotchy pink spots.

And Tim suddenly remembers why he's here.

"Hi, Alfred," Tim greets as Alfred finally finishes approaching. He looks haggard. Likes he's been up all night. He probably has been.

"Master Tim," Alfred says, offering a small smile. "I apologise for not greeting you earlier. I trust the travel wasn't unpleasant?"

Tim shakes his head. Roads were scary slippery, but because the snow is still fresh and the time’s approaching dawn, there wasn't much traffic to make Tim's drive from the penthouse towards Bristol too horrible. "It was fine. And you don't need to apologise… I'm sure you've been busy. Where is…?"

Alfred sighs, his hands running through the rag without much purpose. Alfred's shaken. Tim heard it was bad, but he didn't think it was this bad.

"Masters Dick and Bruce are both downstairs with Doctor Thompkins. Master Dick has yet to wake, but considering we've just finished surgery, I don't expect him to be awake in the near future."

"How bad is he?"

Alfred sighs and moves so he drapes the blood stained rag over his wrists. "Major head trauma is the worst of it. Some broken ribs, a snapped wrist, mostly bruises and cuts. Doctor Thompkins is hopeful that he'll make a full recovery in time."

"And… Damian?"

Damian was there right? He was a part of this whole catastrophe? Nightwing and Robin were supposed to be on a team up. With a sinking stomach, Tim realizes Damian must have watched Two-Face repeat his ever so famous beating of Nightwing tonight.

Tim hopes Harvey Dent and his stupid grudges stay in Arkham for a very long time this time around. If Tim sees him any time soon, Tim's not sure he'll be able to pull his punches as much as he should.

Alfred's voice pulls Tim out from his thoughts. "Master Damian is… outside. Near the Graveyard. I was just about to check up on him, it's rather cold out..."

"Know what?" Tim says. "I'll get him. You look like you could use a nap."

Alfred's face softens. "If you're sure… then I will begin making some hot chocolate for the two of you to warm up."

"Thanks, Alf," Tim replies, a genuine smile rebelliously appearing on his lips.

After he shoves himself back in his jacket and gloves, he's sure he’s prepared for how cold it is outside in the October air.

Immediately, he's pelted by a harsh, gray colored wind speckled with small, glittery flakes of snow. The snow is wet, immediately melting when it touches his coat, and just managing to glaze the grass, but regardless of that it's still cold.

What's Damian doing at the Graveyard at this time with this weather?

The trek towards the Wayne Graveyard is mostly uneventful besides a few slip ups on the stone path. He almost falls on his ass once, but by the time he sees the gate towards the family graveyard, he's relatively unharmed.

The moment Tim walks past the gates, his eyes immediately fly towards the back of the plot where a giant angelic statue stands, her face shrouded with a hood and her hands brought up in prayer.

Jason Todd's grave, Tim feels, has always been a part of Tim's life. Because his life never really began until Robin, didn't it. Which is… depressing to say but he can't really call the years spent practically alone with his emotionally distant parents anything close to a life. Tim decides to head that way. If Damian is sitting at any grave, it's probably near the ones dug recently, and not the old, weathered ones filled with names belonging to Wayne's no one actually really knows about.

Ya know, no one knows about until they’re revealed to have been a part of some super secret old-timey cult or something.

He's probably at Martha and Thomas's graves, wondering what it would be like to have known them. The most experience he has with grandparents is Ra's Al Ghul, and, well, no one wants that guy as a grandfather.

However, when Tim finally sees the form of a small teen squatting besides a grave, it's one that's no longer… valid. But one that keeps it's gravestone anyway, the dates scratched off.

Tim feels something try to crawl into his throat to choke him.

Of course the grave Damian's visiting is Dick's.

Tim immediately decides to make his approach more cautious than what he was initially planning. He can't… really think of a time where he's seen Damian sit at this grave, even while they thought Dick was actually dead. Tim was… off with the Teen Titans and if he remembers correctly Damian wasn't even in the country for long after he came back to life. Bruce got amnesia and for quite a long time, it was only Alfred and Bruce in the manor, living in a carefully constructed illusion that Bruce wasn't Batman and had never taken kids into his home.

Tim wonders when Damian found out Dick "died". How did he react? Did anyone even try to reach out to tell him gently, or did he find out on his own?

"Hey," Tim greets softly, lowering himself down to Damian's level in front of the fake grave. He sits on the balls of his feet and curls his arms over his knees before he turns to really get a good look at Damian.

The kid huffs in response, just staring ahead of him like the gravestone was the most interesting thing in the entire world. His cheeks and nose are red, a stark contrast to his normally dark complexion. His green eyes shine vividly too beneath his sopping wet black bangs. Tim wonders if he's been crying. However, he doesn't dare ask.

"Alfred's making hot chocolate," Tim continues, really feeling out of his league now. He doesn't know what to do. He's never had to confront a clearly vulnerable Damian before. "I don't think we should keep him waiting."

Damian blinks slowly, his gaze finally leaving the gravestone to flicker towards Tim.

And if eyes were the windows to the soul, then Damian's eyes have always been barred for as long Tim's known him. Barred and locked and shielded by blackout curtains. Now though? They're a stained glass window, shattered and hanging by twisted metal framework thanks to a rock that has been thrown through.

Tim can't recall ever seeing Damian like this before. It makes him ponder what really happened tonight. If Dick's injuries were simply because of an unfortunate Two-Face run in. Bruce called Tim over to help go over evidence, but now Tim gets the feeling the real reason he's been requested is because Damian's hurting in his own way too, and Bruce doesn't know how to deal with it.

Not that Tim knows how to deal with it either. The only person that really knows Damian inside and out is the very person who's just finished fighting for his life thanks to a brutal beat down via a psychopath armed with a wooden baseball bat. Again.

"Timothy…" Damian finally speaks, and Tim suddenly feels a chill enter his bones that's not from the wind. "What is Robin's purpose?"

Tim swallows, forcing surprise to stay off his face. Where has this come from?

"What do you mean?" Tim asks slowly.

"Tt." Damian turns back towards the gravestone, his usual sound of annoyance sounding half-hearted and incredibly tired. "Just answer."

And it must show how wrong this all feels because Tim doesn't even get the urge to roll his eyes at the demand. He lets out a breath that turns into a visible vapor the moment it leaves his mouth.

"I guess… it's different for everyone. There's no… job requirement when it comes to Robin. What it means can change on who wears the suit. As long as you wear the colors and fight alongside Batman, then you're Robin."

Damian frowns. "I was told Robin is supposed to be Batman's partner. Robin is supposed to watch Batman's back and protect him."

"Who told you that?" Tim asks before he could stop himself. Damian gives him an unimpressed look. "Oh. Lots of people, huh? Um… I guess protecting Batman is a big part of Robin. I know… that's the reason I became Robin. To save Bruce from his own darkness."

"Then… I am truly an awful Robin."

The words are so shocking that it takes Tim a second to realize a single drop of clear liquid that wasn't snow has dropped down Damian's cheek.

"Richard died while I was gone," Damian continues, water in his voice. "Even if his death was really a ploy to go undercover… he still got captured and tortured. I wasn't… there to protect him. And now, all I could do was stand uselessly while Dent…"

Damian brings a hand to his cheek to wipe the next tear that tries to fall. The sleeve of his jacket folds up around his wrists to reveal rope burns that definitely look like they sting.

Tim thinks he has a clearer picture now. Damian was definitely there, tied down and held back as Two-Face beat Nightwing to a bloody pulp.

Tim is so caught up trying to imagine what Damian is feeling, that he almost misses what's said next.

"If Robin is supposed to protect Batman, then… then it should have been me."

"No," Tim turns so he's facing Damian more head on. More tears drip down his cheeks and Damian looks done with trying to wipe them away. He's looking at the gravestone like he's the one who put it there. That the only reason it's there in the first place is because he wasn't there to stop it. "No, you're not allowed to say that. I take it back, Robin isn't meant to protect Batman-"

"You just said-"

"I was wrong, okay?"

Damian opens his mouth, then closes it.

Tim has to take a moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. "Look… Damian… you're a kid. It's never a kids job to protect the guardian. It's their job to protect you."

"That's the issue, Timothy, he was protecting me." Damian wipes his eyes furiously, his cheeks growing redder but not because of the cold. "Two-Face wanted me, but Richard tricked Two-Face into letting him take my place. Richard died because of me, and stayed away because of me, and now he's- he's hurt because of me-"

"Stop it," Tim snaps. He can feel his heart beating so quickly. His stomach feels like it's in knots. Damian snaps his jaw shut with a tiny, barely choked off whimper that almost has Tim wanting to stand up, go to Gotham, and show Two-Face what a baseball bat looks like from the other end of the beating. "Just… stop. It's… none of this is your fault. And if Dick heard you saying things like this… that it should be you… he'd tell you the same stuff.

"You didn't do anything wrong Damian. Sometimes… Batman gets hurt. But you can't hold yourself responsible for that. Sometimes Dick gets hurt to protect you… us, and we can't blame ourselves for that. Dick did what he thought was right, and it's our job now to make sure he gets better. Okay?"

Damian's silent. Sniffs. From the cold or from tears, Tim doesn't ask.

He wakes in the chilling silence of the Wayne Graveyard until Damian finally jerks his head in a tiny, ridged nod. "I… understand."

"Good." Tim then rises to his feet and grabs Damian's bicep, dragging his little brother up with him. Damian stiffens at first, but eventually complies. Soon, Tim has his arm wrapped around Damian's shoulders. Damian sniffs again and wipes his eyes.

"You said… Alfred was making hot chocolate?" He asks, and Tim smiles.

"He sure is. You think we can convince him to put in marshmallows this time?"

Damian puts on a watered-down thoughtful face. Then nods. "I'm sure if we work together, we can also get cookies."

"Sounds like a plan, gremlin."

"Tt."

"Oh, don't give me that look. You like the nickname."

"I do not."

“Yes you do. Look! You're smiling!"

"You're seeing things, Timothy."

#damian wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #robin #red robin dc #drake #nightwing #fic #fanfiction #jin writes #whumptober2020 #no.19 #grief #survivors guilt #dc #dc comics #batman comics

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

A Little Brother’s Warning: Ryan Michaelson

This was a request from @burtlederp! Hope it’s what you were looking to read :)

Tagging the Danny crew: @bleeding-demon-teeth, @spiffythespook, @finder-of-rings, @whumpywhumper, @pumpkinthefangirl, @special-spicy-chicken, @whale-whumps

CW: Not much. Some reference to the events of So Broken and Not Broken, so you’ll need to read those before it makes much sense, probably. Discussion of violence.

"The American healthcare system can stop panicking now," Ryan Michaelson announces as he pulls aside the hospital bed's curtain with a flourish and holds up the small, surprisingly heavy black rectangle in his free hand. "The money is here."

Then he pauses, making a face at what he sees.

“You’re definitely not my brother.”

“N-No, thank God,” Nate replies, voice dry as a desert. He’s sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed and still has his jeans on from earlier, although Ryan notes with a lurch in his stomach that he can see dark spatters of blood soaked into them. Instead of a shirt he’s wearing one of those tie-in-the-back hospital gowns, pale blue and printed with tiny little flowers. “We can’t all h-h-have the misfortune.”

“I think you mean the epic good luck, thanks... besides, your weird-ass relationship with my brother would be much creepier.” Ryan recovers easily from the moment of surprise - expecting to see his tall, long-limbed brother and a shock of red hair and instead getting the shorter, more muscular, dark-haired Nate Vandrum.

“In, indeed.” Nate sighs and looks down at his hands. They’re heavily bandaged, the both of them, and Ryan swallows a little. “D-D-Danny is g-getting… he needed st-stitches on one of th-the cuts. He’ll b-b-be back in a bit.”

"And you?"

Nate shrugs. "I c-cut one hand. My b-b-bad hand is b… bruised, m-m-mostly, but I scraped the kn-knuckles, so they wrapped it up, t-too."

Ryan fights a sense of nervousness at walking into a place where Danny should be and finding him not there, shaking that off quickly enough as he pulls up one of those awful hospital chairs, designed to look like they’re padded but it still feels like you’re sitting on bumpy stone nothing anyway.

The last time he was in a hospital, Danny had pneumonia and it had been an absolute nightmare trying to deal with his terrors and trauma while Nate huddled in the waiting room, rubbing his hands together, utterly unable to do a fucking thing until Danny was sedated.

This time, Ryan walked into a room to find Nate Vandrum the patient, sitting perfectly still in a way that unsettles him. It makes him think of those nature documentaries with predators that just lie in wait. Nate is calm, placid even, his green eyes dark and fathomless.

Somehow, Ryan feels even less prepared for this.

He drops into the chair, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “So… on the phone, uh, you said you guys got attacked by someone? You weren’t… super up for giving me details at the time, so…”

Nate rolls his eyes - just barely - and Ryan fights a smile at the simple sign that he’s human. There are days Nate Vandrum feels more like a bit of stone or a robot following his brother around the world. “I w-w-was busy,” He says, not quite flat.

“Are you busy now?” He keeps the irritation out of his voice… but only just.

Nate glances down and over at him, and then sighs. His fingers twitch where they stick out from the bandages and he winces, a little. “I g-g-guess not. Someone… t-triggered Danny, at th-th-the bookstore.”

Ryan nods, slowly, hands folded over his stomach where he slumps gracefully into the chair - or at least does the best he can to slump, as the chair’s hard wooden back and awful pastel padded backing fights him every step of the way. “He triggers a lot. Less often now, and I don’t think at the bookstore in forever…”

“N-No, Michaelson,” Nate says, shaking his head. Ryan looks back up at him, noticing for maybe the first time how tired Nate looks. There are shadows under his eyes, around the bottoms of his cheekbones. He looks older than he is, and Ryan’s mocked him for it relentlessly before even knowing that he shouldn’t, but he can’t see anything to mock in that face right now. “This g-guy… triggered him on p-purpose.”

Ryan feels his heart still, for just a second, before it beats again. “On purpose? What… what do you mean, on purpose?”

Nate slumps over a little, shoulders hunching, resting his elbows on his thighs. “His n-n-name-... the guy th-that hurt D-Danny… is C-C-Connor M… Manning. He’s a p-prison guard at… at B-B-... at his p-p-prison.” He swallows, rubs at his face with one hand, and Ryan understands all at once - like cold water washing down his back - just why Nate looks so old sometimes.

It’d age anyone fast, to keep so much locked inside themselves for so long.

“Did he… he drove all this way?” Ryan’s voice drops into something closer to a whisper. “Just to, to get Danny fucked up? Did that-... that motherfucker tell him to?”

There is a rage that stirs in him at the thought, the buried anger that usually only comes out when he’s blackout drunk. He feels it inside him, pressing against the confines of his skin. His left hip starts to warm up oddly, like someone is holding a heating pad to it for too long.

“I d-d-don’t know y-yet. The cops t-t-took him in. Danny was s-s-sitting on a couch, I just… I just w-walked away for a second, Michaelson, it’s… just a second.” There was guilt on Nate’s face and in his voice, and some petty childish little voice in Ryan wanted to snap back you shouldn’t have, what were you thinking but the thing was… that was his mother’s voice. That was how she talked to Danny, about Ryan.

And he’d be damned if he was going to turn into Corrine today.

“I know,” He says instead and his voice is softer than he even meant it to be, and Nate looks up, surprised, to meet his eyes.

Honey-colored eyes (where are you from? Well-meaning people used to ask, and when Ryan would say Northern California, just like you they’d snort and then ask, with an awful subtle emphasis, no, no, where is your family from?) meet the dark, deep green.

Nate looks at him, a little stunned, and then his eyes drop back to his bandaged hands. “H-he, uh. Melody came and g-g-got me-”

“Melody? Oh, the one with pink hair. I like her. She’s an absolute doll. I went on a few dates with her a couple months back, but then, you know, Remy and I started talking more and…” He trails off. Nate’s face hasn’t changed, but somehow… Ryan catches himself anyway. “Sorry. You keep talking. I want to know.”

“Right. I d-d-don’t know what h-happened, and D-Danny’s not talking, or doesn’t kn-know… I’m not s-s-sure which. M-Melody told me Danny had l-left with some… some g-g-guy, and he looked… empty.”

Ryan nods, slowly. It’s his turn to look down at his hands. He knows the exact look Nate is describing - the vacancy in Danny’s face when he’s lost in the woods, every expression an effort laced with terrified resignation. Hunched over, making himself small, covering the parts he thinks will be hurt next. “Good of her to get you,” He offers, and Nate nods slowly.

“Right. I th-thanked her, I just-”

“I’ll thank her, too,” Ryan says, not quite a whisper.

“Good. She c-c-came with me, and we were looking ar, around but I c-c-couldn’t-... I was, was so s-s-sure for a second that I’d l-l-luh…” Nate’s voice began to shake and he puts his hands up over his face, hissing through his teeth at the pain, but he doesn’t drop them, he only presses harder, until he can calm his voice.

Ryan only watches.

“I was s-sure I’d l-lost him,” Nate finally finishes. “That we w-w-wouldn’t find him, that someone had t-t-taken him but without m-me this time, I c-couldn’t be th-there to help h-him survive it…”

Ryan swallows, hard, and sits slowly forward. When he reaches out to put a hand to Nate’s knee, the older man jumps, dropping his hands to stare wide-eyed at Ryan. “Hey. I, uh. I know what it’s like to lose him. I get you.”

Nate nods, very slowly, and then says, “When I f-f-found him, M-Manning was… c-c-cutting his, ah, B-Bram’s name for him into his st-stomach.”

Red.

The heat in his hip again, the bristling, boiling, coiled-up anger that Ryan wants so badly to find some outlet for. He can feel the hissing of it in the back of his mind, the simple fact that he could have ended that asshole that had hurt his brother, if it weren’t for the sense of being constricted, held in, trapped in some way he couldn’t name. By obligation, maybe, by who he was. Even if he deserved it, a Michaelson committing cold-blooded murder… “He was what?”

Nate stares at him. “Cutting h-his… p-puppy name into him. D-Danny was… he was in th-th-the woods. He, he was… Red.”

“That… that motherfucking son of a goddamn bitch.” Ryan takes in a deep, shaking breath, aware as he does that he can hear his own voice like it’s echoing around inside his skull.

There’s a long silence before Nate’s eyes begin to widen. “R-Ryan?”

Ryan can see every detail in his skin, every single pore, the individual black hairs on his head - hints of gray, here and there, just like Danny has a little silver. They said it was from the stress, the trauma, the years of it.

Ryan can feel, he can hear the song of blood rushing through Nate’s veins as his heart speeds up, begins to pound. He’s just so fucking alive, Nathaniel John Vandrum is so alive, and suddenly Ryan thinks that most people are just so small.

So small and so full of rivers of blood and they can lie circles around the green green land but they age fast and die in the end.

Where the fuck did that thought come from?

Nate ducks his head, looks at Ryan through his hair, the way he does when he’s frightened and trying to appease - what Ryan thinks of as his Looking at Denner face. His voice shakes again, and he’s so human. “Ryan, please let go of me-... your, your eyes-”

Ryan blinks and looks down to realize he has his hand closed around Nate’s bad knee so tightly his fingernails are digging in and fuck, he needs to clip them like yesterday, they’re nearly long enough to go right through the heavy denim fabric.

He yanks his hand back quickly. “Shit, Nate, I’m sorry, I… I just-... he was cutting Red into him?”

Nate nods, silent, his eyes moving from Ryan’s face to his hands and back to his face again. There’s a wary nervousness on his face that hadn’t been there before, and he shakes himself all over. “I s-s-saw him and I asked him what he was d-d-doing and th… the next thing I know, I’m b-b-beating the d-d-daylights out of him and D-D-Danny was t-t-telling me to, to stop.”

Ryan considers this, trying to press back his anger. Someone had hurt Danny… again. Life kept kicking his older brother while he was down, again and again, and Ryan only ever stood by and watched, absolutely unable to do a damn thing. He’s been complicit in every single awful thing his mother and father had ever done, he couldn’t help when Danny went missing, he had to stand in a different room while Danny filmed his testimony because it hurt, so badly, to not be able to help.

And now… this.

In this case, he’d been at the gym when Danny was triggered and absconded with, he’d been on a fucking weight machine because it was fucking arms day when some asshole was cutting his brother up, carving that motherfucker’s stupid fucking dog name into him-

“R-R-Ryan… please, your, y-y-your eyes,” Nate says, very low, the soft submissive voice he’d only used once with Ryan before, when Ryan’s hands were about to go around his neck and Nate had started seeing things, hallucinating him as Denner and his stupid dead sister.

Nate, hands bloody and bandaged from beating the shit out of someone who had hurt Danny, is scared of him.

Ryan snaps himself out of it, pressing one hand lightly on his hip. He can’t remember exactly when it started, but he ached there all the time now when he got really, really angry… Maybe just a blood pressure thing.

“Y-your eyes g-glow when you’re ah, angry,” Nate whispers, and Ryan blinks at him. He feels a little worn out, all of a sudden, and slumps back the way he had been before.

“What?” He rubs at his temple with the palm of one hand, a headache starting to inch its way in. Dehydrated, he thinks - he hadn’t had enough water today, and he’d been at the gym when he got the call and probably hasn’t had anything since...

“Y-y-your eyes gl… glowed… You g-g-glow when you’re ah, angry. Just l-like him.”

“No, I don’t.” Ryan frowns, unsettled by the open fear in Nate’s face. Scared of him - and, no matter what he felt about Nate, he didn’t want the older man to be scared of him. “Look, you’re seeing shit, like you said. You had a freakout, you did a really good thing, you’re just coming down from it. Danny sees shit all the fucking time.”

“I’m n-not Danny,” Nate says, but he looks uncertain, now. Second-guessing himself. “I t-t-take my pills, I see Dr. Rosa, I haven’t h-had a visual one s-s-since…”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t have one today. When’s the last time someone actually attacked Danny?”

Nate doesn’t answer, but his green eyes have turned inward, and Ryan sighs, wondering how long he’ll have to sit with his brother’s boyfriend pretending to get along. There’s a long silence punctuated only by the ticking of a clock hanging off the wall over by the hospital room’s TV. Ryan can hear nurses chatting down the hall, the squeaky sound of someone rolling an IV with a bad wheel.

Somewhere, they are sewing his brother up - and Ryan quirks a hint of a bitter smile. “Hey, I should tell you something, Vandrum.”

Nate rakes a hand back through his hair - then hisses at the flash of pain.

Ryan barely hides his laugh. “Oh, no, you won’t have access to your all-time favorite nervous habit. You’re going to be a fucking mess, huh?”

Nate drops his hand, slowly, and glances down at Ryan with that same unsettled expression. Any other day, he’d snap back, have some retort, and they’d both leave feeling like they either won or at least held up their end of things fairly well.

Today…

Ryan eventually sighs. “Hey. Look. Before I’m any more of an asshole than I already am-”

“Too late,” Nate says dryly, miraculously without stuttering through the words.

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious.” Ryan rolls his eyes, and Nate cracks a smile - faint and barely there, but he sees it. Both of them slowly begin to relax. “I wanted to say… um… thanks. For going after him, for… for stopping the guy. For busting the shit out of your already-busted hand to defend my brother. All of it. I’m.. sorry I wasn’t there, to back you up.”

“You’re s-s-sorry you weren’t th-there? On our d-d-date with us?” Nate raises an eyebrow - just the one, all by itself, and it’s a skill Ryan would kill to master.

“... fuck off, you know what I mean. At least you admit you’re dating now, you gave him a ring and still didn’t admit-”

“I l-love him.” Nate cut him off, voice suddenly firm and stronger than it had been before. “Ah. We s-said it today... I l-love him.”

Ryan is silent, staring at him, and then says in a low voice, “Well I should fucking hope so, Vandrum, because otherwise you’ve been mooching off my brother’s total adoration for you for a year now. Why are you telling me something I already know?”

“Y-you knew?”

“Of course I knew. I can read people, my brother best of all, and he was in love with you a long time before I had to look at your fucking face every day while I’m trying to eat breakfast.” Ryan sighs and pulls his credit card back out, fiddles with it. It’s plain black, with the faintest shimmer if you turn it the right way under the light. He’d been so proud of himself when Dad gave him his first card attached to the family account.

What’s… what’s the limit on this, Dad?

The limit is ‘don’t do anything stupid’.

The silence draws out between them, but it’s a little more companionable than it had been before. Finally, Nate shifts around a little, and Ryan glances over at him, then at the TV, playing some kind of mindless house-hunting show. I think the last time I was in a hospital and someone wasn’t watching HGTV I was ten and it was when Danny fell out of the tree.

“Look…” Ryan clears his throat when his voice catches, tries again. “Look. I want to say something to you about this bullshit you have going with my brother. You buying him that ring, and all that.”

Nate looks at him, and something in his jaw sets. “I w-w-won’t apologize for the r-ring, Michaelson. He d-d-deserves something to r, remind him.”

Looking at Nate’s face, Ryan is reminded of the cold, hostile mask he had worn at trial, self-protective, an attempt to keep Abraham Denner from seeing him get upset. Nate had said more than once Denner fed on it, and Ryan had to admit, he did seem to leave every day energized when everyone else was exhausted.

“I’m not asking you to apologize for the ring, jackass. I wanted to say…” He flips the card over, looks at his name printed on the back. “I just… don’t fuck it up.”

“What?” Nate blinks - this is clearly not what he expects to hear.

“Don’t fuck it up. My brother’s whole life, everyone around him wants somebody else more than him… except for me, I guess. He’s my only brother and the only one I want, anyway. But… everybody else. Mom, Dad, his boyfriends in high school and college… everyone decides they want someone else, and they fuck right off, and the universe kicks my brother in the balls once again.”

“M-Michaelson, I don’t intend-”

“Shut up and listen. I get that you two… that you figured each other out or something, up there.” Ryan waves one hand in the air, as though Canada were a mile in the air instead of several hundred miles north. “I get it. But he’s my big brother, and he’s kind of my little brother, too, now, after everything that happened to him…” He swallows, and leans forward, catching Nate’s eyes and holding them.

“Vandrum, if you fuck this up - if you hurt him, if you add one more kick to the balls for my big and little brother… please trust me that some asshole in an alley is the least of your problems. If you break his heart, I will fucking murder you.”

Nate stares at him, and then starts to laugh, leaning slowly over. He has a low, deep laugh that breaks out of him, as though he works so hard to keep it inside that he’s sort of forgotten the sound. “I h-h-haven’t been given this s-speech since I was, ah, y-y-younger than y-you. And last t-time it was his father, and h-he had a sh, shotgun.”

“I don’t have guns - not on me, anyway - but I do have the amazing superpower of being a little brother who waited four fucking years to see Danny smile again.” Ryan shrugs, holding his hands out with palms to the ceiling in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “I mean it, Vandrum. Thanks for saving him today, and… for saving him before, too, I guess. But if you fuck up and hurt him, I will definitely make your death slow and painful.”

Nate smiles at him, the scar at one corner of his mouth pulling it just slightly to the side. After a second he holds out one bandaged hand, leaning over, and Ryan meets it - not shaking, he’s too hurt for that. They touch palms, a bare brush of fingers, and call that enough. “Deal.”

“I will murder you.”

“G-Got it.”

“Very, very slowly.”

“Y-Yes, you s-s-said that.”

“With a really confusing murder weapon so the cops never know what killed you.”

“Right.”

They sit there smiling at each other until Danny comes back, pushed in a wheelchair that he looks almost comically too tall to actually sit in.

Ryan turns to look at his brother, relieved just to see the clear blue eyes. The scarring around his face, his neck, his hands and arms… all of it to Ryan is just part of who Danny is, now. He never bats an eyelash at it, it all means Danny lived, that he came home.

Nate Vandrum set a fire - and Nate Vandrum beat a guy half to death in an alleyway - and Ryan had to admit… he was maybe 10% less of an asshole than Ryan told everyone he was.

“Hey, Ryan,” Danny says, with a lopsided smile. “You came to drive us home?”

“I came to pay your medical bills, you doof.” Ryan says, rolling his eyes. Then he looks up at the nurse, flashing her his most brilliant smile. She blushes, just a little, and he reads across her face an easy enough story of how quickly she would give him her number if he asked.

Too bad, he thinks. Remy’s been calling again, and… he’ll skip the opportunity, this time. Maybe next time, though.

“Is there someone from billing I could talk to?” Ryan asks her, and watches her tuck a bit of hair behind her ear with a smile.

“You’re his brother?” She asks, head tilting his slightly.

Ryan laughs. “Yes. I’m Ryan Michaelson. I’m also the money.”

#Daniel michaelson's story #whump #trauma recovery whump #siblings #brothers #original fiction #caretaker #caretakers #recovering whumpee #hospital #medical whump #not really #but still #little brother shenanigans #threatening the boyfriend: a time honored family tradition

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twiceblackvelvet · 4 years

Note

Can I request a angst/fluff scenario where reader and jisoo have broken up but reader gets drunk and confesses their love for her 🥺

A/N; i left this quite open-ended because i may expand on this in the future, hope you don’t mind anon. enjoy!

It’s been three weeks now since your entire world came crashing down. Not that you’ve even noticed. Time stopped existing when the feeling of life having no meaning anymore took over your mind.

For the last year, you dedicated your time, effort and love to someone who you thought you’d be with for the rest of your life. Thus, now you’re no longer able to do that, the thought of moving on feels like the universe’s way of having a joke at your expense.

You’ll never be able to find someone as loving, beautiful, strong, kind, funny and considerate as Jisoo. Yet, you managed to throw it all away in the blink of an eye over a silly accusation. An accusation that shouldn’t have even fallen from your mouth. One that Jisoo just can’t seem to forgive you for.

After a day full of practicing new choreography for her next comeback, Jisoo decided to unwind by heading out to a bar with the rest of her members, she dropped you a quick text telling you not to bother waiting up for her and yet you still did. When she finally made it back to the dorm your built-up frustrations over how little you’ve gotten to see each other lately as well as your own insecurities just got the better of you in the heat of the moment.

The next thing you remember is being told to leave. You’d seemingly blacked out in a haze of anger. The image of Jisoo’s cold eyes soaked in her own tears as she tells you the relationship is over has been tormenting you ever since.

You later found out from Jennie, who you bombarded with texts after Jisoo blocked your number, that you’d accused her of cheating with their choreographer. Every bit of trust between you both shattered into a million pieces and there’s no way you can glue them all back together.

Every night since has been spent wallowing in self-pity, scrolling through pictures of you both and mentally abusing yourself for being the world’s biggest idiot.

Tonight, however, you have to put on the biggest and fakest smile humanly possible. In your depressed state, you’d completely blanked on the fact that it’s your best friend’s birthday and that she’s organized a party for herself. You tried repeatedly to get out of going but she too is fed up with your moping and convinced you that having fun is exactly what you need.

So, here you are. The middle of a nightclub, music pulsating through several speakers placed on every wall and yet you’re still unable to drown out thoughts of Jisoo.

“Cone on, liven up a bit. Here, have a drink!” A woman you don’t recognize whatsoever places a drink down in front of you and stumbles off towards another table.

Usually, you wouldn’t be so silly as to accept a drink from a stranger, but you’ve passed the point of caring whether you end up spiked or not. For a split second, you even hope this already drunk woman has added something extra to your drink solely so you can stop all of your thoughts and feelings for longer than five seconds.

One drink quickly turns to two drinks and then soon enough you’re in the same state as the woman who initially handed you the first. Your balance has gone flying out of the window as the ground has seemingly turned to jelly. Well, either that or your legs.

“I think you’ve had enough, babe. Why don’t we get you home?” You try to focus your eyes to see which face this voice belongs to but you’re unable to see clearly as three of the same person appears before you instead. Everything around you is hazy and the dizziness is not helping. Before you can answer your mind goes blank and you once again blackout.

Someone above must be on your side as luckily your awaken when a taxi driver shakes your body and tells you that you’ve arrived home. You quickly stumble out of the car as to not hold them up any longer but you soon realize that the building before you is not your home.

Without thinking, you stumble up to the front door and ring the bell. You try to stand up straight and look presentable, but in actuality, you look like someone has hit you with a bus.

The door slowly opens and you’re pulled inside by a clearly frustrated Jennie.

“What are you doing here?” Her question is answered without words when she smells the alcohol on your breath and takes in your disheveled appearance. “Oh god, you’ve been drinking. Come on, let’s go back outside, I’ll get you-” She’s unable to finish her sentence as she notices your eyes boring past her face to something behind her.

“It’s fine Jennie, I can handle this.”

Hearing Jisoo’s voice for the first time in three weeks makes your insides burn deeply with need. Every inch of your body is begging you to run to her, wrap her up in your arms and never leave her side again. Despite your intoxicated state, your mind tells you not to do what is your first instinct and to instead allow her to guide you slowly to her room without speaking a word to each other.

Once inside the room that you’d previously spent many nights curled up beside the woman in front of you, your eyes allow the flood gates to open and no matter how hard you try the tears won’t stop falling. Jisoo simply stares on at you with the same cold expression as the day you left, her hands are fidgeting with the hem of her oversized sweater and her feet don’t quite know whether to carry her body to be beside you or stay rooted firmly to the ground.

“Why did you come here? I can see that you’re drunk but… why here?”

Your mind hadn’t allowed you previously to think about how you ended up here. But now, the only thing coming to the forefront of your mind is that you love her. You love Jisoo with every fiber of your being. You love the way her eyes shine whenever she smiles. You love the way her skin is so soft and flawless. You love the way her first instinct in a scary situation is to lighten the mood with one of her silly jokes. But most importantly, you love that her heart is so pure and ready to offer care to anyone who needs it. Yet, you decided to break said heart just as easily as she had trusted you to look after it.

“I’m sorry, I should leave.” You stand up albeit slightly unsteadily and begin to head back towards the door you just entered but her hand grasps tightly around your wrist and drags you back to your seated position.

“No, you came here for a reason tonight, I want to know why.” Her voice is harsh now and your ears sting slightly having never heard this tone previously.

There are so many racing thoughts inside your head now. You know you don’t deserve forgiveness. You know you don’t deserve this opportunity to explain yourself. You know that no matter what you say here you’ll never be able to stop the feeling of self-loathing nor take away Jisoo’s anguish. Yet, you try.

“I’m not sure, honestly. I went out with some friends and I guess I drank a lot more than I should have and now I’m here.” The first expression you see is a disappointment, clearly unhappy with your answer Jisoo sighs and sits down in front of you with her arms and legs crossed. “I really didn’t intend to come here, I just… I guess in my mind I just felt like I needed to be with you. Now that I think about it, I realize how selfish that makes me. I get myself into a state like this and my first instinct is to come running back to you to look after me.”

Word vomit has seemingly taken over your brain as you’re unable to stop yourself from letting words spill from your mouth without thinking them through, this time, they’re not accusing Jisoo of things you know she’d never in her life do. Instead, they’re confessing what’s inside your heart once more.

“I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean much and that you have every right to be mad at me, never forgive me or even throw me out right now. But I need you to know that truly, I am so sorry. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and I know you’d never do anything to hurt me or our relationship. You have been so honest, loyal and caring every single day and I just… I got so frustrated with not getting to see you or having to cancel plans because your studio time went longer than it was supposed to. You were right beside me at times and I still missed you.”

Your entire body begins to shake now that you’ve started to open up. Jisoo notices this and slowly sits beside you and entwines your fingers together as she looks up at you through eyes rimmed with tears.

“I couldn’t stop thinking that maybe you’d grown bored of me or that you’d found someone else. I know it sounds stupid but I started to tell myself every single day that you were going to leave me thinking it would prepare me for it. Instead, it turned me into this jealous monster who couldn’t handle hearing about any other person being around you. I got so lost inside my own head that I ended up destroying us completely.”

Jisoo pulls you into a gentle hug as she runs her hand across your back. Your thoughts are still telling you that you’re undeserving of all of this. That she’s being too kind by comforting you after you ripped her heart out of her chest all due to your own insecurities. She still remains silent and allows you to finish what you’ve started.

“I love you. I love you more than anything else in this world. I know that you probably don’t believe that or think that I have a funny way of showing it but it’s true. I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted and I’m scared that you always will be because I don’t deserve you. I want to be happy again but I can’t without you and I don’t want to let you forgive me at the same time. I love you so much that it’s killing me.”

With that, you remove yourself from the embrace Jisoo has pulled you into and grab your bag to leave. You’re not sure if it’s from pouring your heart and soul out or the after-effects of several tequila shots but exhaustion has finally hit and you need to get home.

“Wait.” Your entire body freezes in the doorway with Jisoo’s words. “Don’t I get a say in any of this? Or are you just going to walk out and pretend I don’t feel the exact same way about you?” Her own body suddenly presses against your back as she wraps her arms around your torso holding you in place. “You’re right. I shouldn’t forgive you, nor should I have to take care of you in a state like this. Yet, here I am, willing to listen to you tell me you love me, willing to let you explain yourself and after all of it is said and done, I can’t think of anything else more I would rather do than look after you and let all of this go.”

None of her words make sense to you, she’s speaking very clearly and close enough for you to hear it perfectly and yet you can’t comprehend what any of it means.

“I’m not saying that all of this is fixed nor do I know if it ever will be, but I’m willing to try and put the pieces back together if you are. I love you y/n. Despite everything, I still love you.”

#blackpink #blackpink scenarios #kim jisoo #jisoo scenarios #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios #kpop #angst #fluff

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anxresi · 4 years

Text

Chloe’s Last Straw

Synopsis:

Chloe is guilty of many things in her life. But not this. Never this. So when her mother says something unforgivable to a person she'd usually consider an enemy, it's up to her to put things right. Grab your popcorn folks, and get ready for a roasting. Written for Blackout Tuesday.

..............................

Caline Bustier sighed in exasperation, wondering how her once promising career as an educator had stuck her with this… the most ill-disciplined, out-of-control bunch of students she’d ever had to guide since her formative years as a kindergarten coordinator.

But even those young rapscallions had some level of respect for their elders, whereas the current batch of alleged ‘maturer’ teens…

They couldn’t even raise their heads for role-call in the morning.

“Max! Stop playing with that flying toy this second ! Mylene, Ivan… you can kiss each other during recess! Return to your desks now ! Nathanael! Put down those pencils and listen to me! Lila, I know you said you suffer from ADHD, but until I see a doctor’s note, I expect you to respond immediately when I call your name! Honestly, it’s like trying to herd cats! And where on Earth are…”

“I’m here! I’m here!!” As if in answer to her request, Adrien Agreste bustled in just then, out-of-breath and apparently with a ready-made excuse to explain his absence. “Dawn fashion shoot… then piano recital… early morning practice… stop me falling behind. A-Apologies Miss Bustier… you know how it is with my father…”

“Hmm, yes… I’m afraid I do .” The frowning teacher gave an understanding nod, for Gabriel Agreste’s huge expectations for his son often led to constant late arrivals for his son. “I would say ‘try not to let it happen again’, but something tells me it’s out of my hands. Oh well, at least you haven’t missed any actual lesson time this week. Go and sit down, please. Now I wonder where…”

“ Argh ! S-Sorry Miss! Mom got sick… and usually she handles the morning deliveries… so I had to take a quick detour on my way here… and…” bang

At least, that’s the sound effect there would’ve been, if a stumbling Marinette Dupain-Cheng hadn’t been caught by Adrien on her inevitable descent to the floor. Right place, right time.

Still didn’t stop her blushing like a stoplight though.

“A-Adrien!! Gulp. H-Hi. ” The blunette gave a passable impression of a fish out of water.

“Hey there! F-Funny the places we run into each other, isn’t it?” Adrien seemed equally struck for what he wanted to say.

“ Ahem !” That was the sound of an impatient teacher, who obviously had no romance in her soul and was eager to restart the headcount. “If you two are quite finished with your impromptu act, you can save it for the talent show next month. Take your respective seats so we can get on. Wait…”

Glancing at Adrien And Marinette’s chairs had revealed something unprecedented in the recent history of this hallowed halls of education. In fact, so unbelievable was it, Miss Bustier had to rub her eyes twice just to make sure what she saw wasn’t just another product of her espresso-infused imagination.

For it would appear as though young Agreste and Dupain-Cheng, by some measure the most tardy pupils Caline Bustier had ever known, were not among the last ones to arrive that incredible day.

No, that dubious honor belonged to none other than the students the aforementioned pair shared a desk with, namely Nino Lahiffe and Alya Cesaire.

W-What the… the panicking teacher’s look of astonishment was completely forgivable, as both Marinette and Adrien made good their escape. I’ve never known anything like this to happen before. It’s most unlike them. I just hope they’re okay. Maybe, if they’re not here soon, I should ask the headmaster if…

Miss Bustier’s short soliloquy was interrupted by an unpleasant shrieking noise as a familiar pair strode in. The high-pitched noise made the hairs on her neck stand on end and shattered the formerly serene atmosphere of the classroom once and for all.

“ Dahling . You know I wouldn’t go back to New York without saying goodbye to my precious Coraline, don’t you sweetheart? I might be away for quite a while this time, even past Christmas, but you understand, right? If I’m not there to personally introduce my new range of spangly negligees to the world at Fashion Week, my competitors might steal my thunder! I might even be bumped off the front page of Vogue! And you remember what I’ve told you every day, since the blessed occasion you were born, whenever that was…”

“Yes, mother. ‘If you’re not somebody, then you’re nobody.’ I get it. But do you ‘get’: my name isn’t ‘Coraline’, it’s Chloe . Coraline is that so-called kids movie we saw years ago, the one that was so scary I nearly wet… you know what, n-never mind.”

The loud screech of Audrey Bourgeois’s voice was almost enough to give poor Miss Bustier a migraine, as if the prospect of trying to teach her disruptive daughter good manners wasn’t difficult enough. Why did this have to be the one day I forgot to bring my aspirin to class with me? Tell me, what did I do to deserve this? Did I walk under a ladder yesterday? Did I crack a mirror, or step on a gypsy’s foot by mistake? Please, if I am cursed for whatever reason, let me know how I can fix it. For the love of…

“Mrs Bourgeois! What an unple… u-unexpected pleasure!” The rapidly unraveling teacher put on her fakest, friendliest face to welcome the surprise guest. “How are you? When was the last time we met? I seem to recall it was at the salon…”

“What was that? Who is this strange person heckling me, dear?” Audrey pulled down her shades to stare closer, as Chloe whispered in her mom’s ear. “Oh yes, your public school educator. Still with the red hair I see, ugh . Yes, I remember… I told her to dye her roots blonde like me if she wanted a better job than the impossible task of instructing these degenerates. Because as we all know: ‘blondes have more fun’. Isn’t that right, Chlorine?”

Whether Chloe was still sore from Audrey getting her name wrong twice now, or just plain embarrassed by her female parent’s condescending behavior, who knows. She didn’t repeat her mother’s mantra again like last time though, and instead stood there nervously with her hands in her chino pockets, portraying quite an un-Chloe lack of confidence.

“Well anyway, if you simply must know Miss… Bustier, was it?” An uninterested Audrey inquired, proving the rumor true that her daughter’s name was the only one she regularly forgot. “I was just seeing my precious off, before catching the afternoon plane to uptown New York. It’s just wonderful there in the summer, with all the glitterati in attendance for the various functions. You really must try it, darling… oh sorry I forgot: on your meager salary, it might prove to be an impossible dream. Still, we can’t all be as ridiculously wealthy as me and my husband, can we?”

“Y-Yes, I suppose so.” Miss Bustier desperately kept her sentences as short as possible. She didn’t want the dreadful woman to stay there a second longer than absolutely necessary. “W-Well, I don’t want to keep you, if you have things you need to…”

“So, these are the local children you go to school with, dear?” Deciding she was tired with Miss Bustier’s ‘rambling’, a bored Audrey fixed a critical eye over the classroom. “Well, I must say, I’ve seen far better. A poor crop if ever there was one… why your father refused to let you be privately educated is beyond me. I suspect it’s because he wants to boost his election prospects by letting you ‘mingle with the common folk’, but is it really worth it? I hate to think the effect such distasteful surroundings must be having on your delicate young mind.”

Outraged gasps erupted from all around the room, and if Chloe could’ve jumped into a fifty-foot hole never to emerge, she likely would’ve done so with relish. Alas, this was not an option, and so once more the twitching girl was forced to deal with the consequences of her mother’s shameless arrogance and total lack of volume control.

But just as even the usually docile Miss Bustier was about to say something stronger to defend her visibly irritated students, the last two attendees emerged through the door, puffing and panting as they arrived at long last. Also noticeably, covered in what can only be described as black oil stains.

First up was Nino Lahiffe, who paused slightly to catch his breath and adjust his cap. Then came his girlfriend Alya Cesaire just behind, who despite being pretty exhausted herself, began to speak “N-Nino’s dad gave us a lift, but the car broke down. We had to help him fix it…”

Suddenly Audrey Bourgeois, obviously on a roll, glanced behind her with a pronounced sneer. Upon seeing the pair in question, her expression of disapproval grew even more pronounced…

And what she said next was truly shocking. Except, maybe not her.

“Who might these ‘people’ be, then? While I think it’s laudable you’ll let just about anyone into these types of schools Bustier, I hope you realize some individuals can’t be taught. Just look at those hopeless youths, for example. Obviously from a rough neighborhood, probably down to one parent each, deprived of everything to judge by their filthy clothing, and they can’t even be in class on time. Probably wasting their lives on the street listening to ‘wrap’ music, or whatever it’s called. As if this sort even need an education, in their future careers as minimum wage cleaners or drug-dealers. Really dear, you’d be better off kicking them out and investing in school uniforms instead…”

“ That’s enough !!”

Stunned faces all around. Jaws dropping to the floor. A few people on the verge of fainting, at the identity of the person who uttered those two screamed words.

It wasn’t Miss Bustier, who was prepared to declare her response by more physical means (a hard fist to the face of an unrepentant bigoted snob, if you must know).

Not Alya, who looked just about ready to burst into tears, being held by her apoplectic boyfriend in his arms (otherwise, he might’ve formed an unstoppable tag-team with his teacher to kick some serious a**).

The surprise shouter was none other than Chloe Bourgeois, who having finally been pushed to her absolute limit at her mother’s complete lack of respect for anyone besides her own reflection, had finally snapped.

And boy, was it something to behold.

“Mom, as I’m sure anyone who isn’t you would agree, I’ve put up with a lot over the years. The insults. The dirty looks. Long absences. Always getting my name wrong. Never telling me you love me. Raising me to think ‘sacking’ anyone who disagrees with you is permissible behavior. I can tolerate all this and more, but there is one thing where I must draw the line. You want to know what that is?”

“ Must we get into this now, dear? You know I like first pick of the best VIP seats…” There Mrs Bourgeois went again, thinking this was just another conversation where she could brush off her daughter’s genuine concerns.

Well, in this case, she was about to get ‘schooled’ (pun not intended).

“Well, I’m going to tell you anyway. It’s racism Mom, plain and simple, and I won’t stand for it! Whatever problems I might’ve had with Alya and Nino in the past, and believe me there’s been plenty, I’ve never treated them differently due to the color of their skin! How shallow can you get?! And coming from me, this is the biggest of big deals!”

It was as if someone had lit a fuse underneath Audrey’s designer shoes, as the formerly unflappable woman suddenly recoiled in shock. “W-What… well I never ! How could you say such terrible things to me, Chlorophyll? Why, if you weren’t my own flesh and blood, I’d sue you on the spot! I’ll have you know, some of my best workers are blac…”

“Yeah, ‘workers’. You just made my point for me. That’s all they are to you, aren’t they? I’ve seen the way you treat them differently to even our other staff, calling them ‘tanned’ and ‘colored’ right to their faces. They don’t say anything because they don’t want to lose their jobs, and shamefully neither do I because frankly, you scare me sometimes. Well, that ends this second . The instant you behave that way again, I’ll be on you like a ton of bricks. Also, do you wanna know something else?”

“H-Huh?” Audrey’s demeanor had abruptly switched from coolness personified to utter confusion. Being called out so blatantly in front of a bunch of ‘underprivileged ragamuffins’ by her petulant child was not on the itinerary today.

“I’ll spoil it for you again. Father hates your attitude even more than I do! Whenever you finish treating the staff like the dirt under your feet, he goes to each one in turn to apologize personally. As well as give them a few extra euros that month, as if that’ll make up for the abuse they have to suffer. But look who I’m talking to! The woman who thinks Chinese and Japanese people are practically the same! And people wonder where I got such a stupid idea from…”

‘I-I…” For the first time in her life, Mrs Bourgeois was completely lost for words. All she could do was stare dumbly and numbly at her irrepressible daughter, as the young girl finished her extended lecture with a flourish.

“Finally, I suppose I should let you know about the head cook at our hotel. You know, the one who you think makes the best meals around for Daddy and his clients at short notice? Or when you have to entertain people, and she puts on a spread that’ll put any other caterer in the city to shame? That’s Mrs Cesaire, the mother of Alya over there. How do you think she’s going to feel, when she hears you racially insulted her daughter so terribly in front of her entire class? I don’t know, but if I were you I’d check my food for signs of saliva for a while. Also, put your lawyers on stand-by, because I think it may be heading for court. And if you want to know who’s side I’ll be on, here’s a clue…”

At this juncture, Chloe put her mouth to her now trembling mother’s ear to whisper sharply:

“...It won’t be yours!”

That was all it took for Mrs Audrey Bourgeois to collapse on the floor, in such a comatose state that not even the strongest smelling salts around could revive her in the foreseeable future.

...Not that anyone really wanted to do that, of course. Even the school nurse balked at helping someone who’d been so vile to the innocent students there. So, in an unconscious heap on the floor she stayed.

In the end, she missed her flight and the free expensive champagne on offer. Oh dear. How sad. Never mind.

As for Chloe, having said her piece and blithely sauntered over to her seat next to Sabrina afterwards, she was most surprised by the deafening cheer that subsequently erupted, as well as the much better treatment she got for an entire week afterwards by everyone present (even from Marinette).

As unusual as her newfound popularity was though…

She could quite easily get used to it.

If only she could master this whole ‘being nice’ thing.

..............................

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Remember everyone, having White Privilege isn’t just about paying lip service to the concerns of minorities and posting black squares and hashtags one Tuesday to show you care…

It’s about using your advantageous platform all year round to speak up to defend those in need, whoever they are. After all. if activism was just listening to others whilst doing precisely nothing to change the world outside the confines of social media, how are we gonna change the world?

Food for thought. Hope you enjoyed the story, which (I hope) got the point across well enough. Whatever you think, let me know… and thanks for reading! :)

#chloe bourgeois #audrey bourgeois #Nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #adrien agreste #Miss Bustier #ladybug #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #blackout tuesday #blackouttuesday

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babywinkz · 3 years

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Back to School Sleep Tips : Help Your Child be ready (2021)

Alright, let me just start off here by saying, no judgment for what might have gone down in the last couple of months.

I know… I’m a child sleep consultant and you may think that I’m going to tell you off for the late bedtimes, inconsistent schedules, or any of the many naughty things that may have taken place over your summer holidays and during lock down.

But I get it. I really do.

I’m a mother myself and I know how precious these summer months are. You want to squeeze every minute of joy and togetherness you can from these glorious days. If it’s a choice between consistent bedtimes and staying up to watch as a family to watch Netflicks

That’s no choice at all.

So no matter what might have happened over the summer holidays and during lock down, all is forgiven. The mission now is to get your child back on track so that they can get back to sleep at a reasonable hour the day now they have gone back to school.

So I hope you’ll keep reading without fear of any finger wagging or talk of what you should have done differently.

I promise you, it’s not in here.

Set a Time For Bed and Stick to it

So first things first. What time should your kids be going to bed? Well, a lot of parents I work with are surprised to hear that I recommend somewhere between 7:00pm and 8:00pm at night.

They’re even more surprised when I tell them that I suggest they keep that bedtime until their child is about 12 years old.

There are two reasons why I think kids should be in bed, and by that I mean sleeping, by 8:00 at night.

1 – Kids Need SleepFirst, kids need at least 10 hours of sleep a night.

An extra hour or two on top of that is never a bad thing, but you obviously have to make those adjustments based on your own observations.

Regardless, if your toddler needs to be up by 7:00 A.M. in order to get ready for school, they should be asleep by 9:00 at the latest.

Factor in the time it takes them to get to sleep after they get into bed, plus the inevitable request for a glass of water or a totally silly insistence that they need to use the toilet half an hour after you close their door, and 8:00 is pretty much the latest they can get to bed and still get the sleep they need.

2 – Mummy and Daddy Time

Second, you, as a parent, and your partner if there’s one in the picture, need to exist child-free for a few hours a day. You need to be able to watch TV with swear words and sexual innuendo, to be able to eat some junk food without fear of being spotted, to just do grown-up things and to recharge those parenting batteries.

It’s vital to your relationship with your partner and with your kids.

Alright, so now that we know when to put our kids to bed, let’s move on to the significantly more difficult issue of how.

Don’t leave it to the last minute.

If they’ve been going to bed at around 9:00 for the better part of their holidays, try moving bedtime up by about 15 minutes every 4 days until you’re back to their normal bedtime.

If this requires a little deception on your part by adjusting the clocks in their room, you just go ahead and get deceptive. Sometimes the ends really do justify the means.

Establish a Bedtime Routine

If you had an effective bedtime routine before your summer holidays and the pandemic threw everything into upheaval, then try to re-implement it as much as possible.

Familiarity will definitely help your child settle back into the schedule quicker and with less resistance than trying out something new.

On the other hand, if this is your first go at implementing a bedtime routine, let me just stress how much easier a repetitive, predictable bedtime routine can make your life.

When your child’s body and brain start to associate things like baths, stories, brushing teeth, putting on PJs, all done in the same order at the same time every night, it cues up their melatonin production, making sleep come easier.

I seriously can’t recommend bedtime routines highly enough.

Use a Timer

Of course, things like baths and stories are super fun, so there is a tendency for your toddler to try and negotiate for more time in the bath, or one more story.

If you find yourself constantly having to play bad cop, a timer can be your best friend for keeping things on schedule, and as silly as it may sound, takes the blame off of you and puts it on the timer.

Mum can be reasoned with, but the timer is downright unwavering.

Turn of those screens

Along with the slack enforcement of bedtimes during the summer, we also tend to ease up on the rules surrounding TV, video games, or otherwise staring at screens in the hours leading up to bedtime.

After all, there’s no homework to be done, so maybe we can allow a little leeway for an extra episode of In The Night Garden or Peppa Pig

(Which, quite honestly, is as enticing for me as it is for my kids. )

The thing about screens, whether they’re phones, TVs, computers, or tablets, is that they put out a massive amount of blue light.

Our brains associate blue light with sunshine, and therefore daytime, so screens before bed can actually have the unwanted effect of firing your kid’s system back up when it should be powering down.

Try to avoid any screen time for at least two hours before bed.

TOP TIPS.

This also applies to adults, so if you’re having trouble falling asleep at night, try reading instead of watching TV before you turn in.

Turn to the dark side

And while we’re on the subject of light, for many of you living in the northern areas of the planet, you may notice that it doesn’t get dark until significantly later at 8:00pm, and the only thing that simulates sunlight better than a TV screen is actual sunlight.

If your child’s bedroom is still lit up like a Christmas tree when you’re putting them to bed, I suggest investing in a set of blackout blinds.

It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. You can get a six-pack of blinds on Amazon, or even something called non-adhesive window film, which is just plastic you can cut to size and slap up over the glass.

If you’re concerned about aesthetics and willing to spend the money, there are plenty of color options besides black that still block out the light. Whichever way you choose to do it, get that sunlight out of the bedroom.

It’ll make a world of difference, I promise you.

KEY INFORMATION.Having experienced some leniency regarding bedtime can suddenly transform your child into an astoundingly sharp lawyer.

Arguments for why they should be allowed to stay up later are likely to be heard for at least a few days and, potentially, the next eight or ten years. Luckily, parenting is not a democracy.

It is a glorious dictatorship where “Her Highness, the Momma,” makes all the rules.

Don’t give in to the pressure, because as I said earlier, this 8:00pm bedtime is going to be in place for several years. The sooner they accept that as the norm and their summertime hours as a special circumstance, the easier this whole bedtime thing will be for you and for them.

So there it is, folks! I hope you had yourselves a wonderful summer holiday, and that your children are safe and back in school or starting school again soon.

I promise you that, no matter what grade they’re headed into, nothing will help them go into the new school year with a better attitude and positive outlook than getting plenty of sleep.

And if this is your first experience with the kids out of the house since you became a mum, oh baby, let me tell you about the sweet days ahead. (Once you’ve gotten over the initial heartbreak, of course.)

Jennifer L. Vriend, PhD Fiona D. Davidson, MA Penny V. Corkum, PhD Benjamin Rusak, PhD, FRSC Christine T. Chambers, PhD Elizabeth N. McLaughlin, PhD (2013) Manipulating Sleep Duration Alters Emo- tional Functioning and Cognitive Performance in Children – Journal of Pediatric Psychology, Volume 38, Issue 10, 1 November 2013, Pages 1058–1069, https://doi.org/10.1093/jpepsy/jst033 Mindell J, Lee C, Goh D, Leichman E, Rotella K (2017). Sleep and Social-Emotional Develop- ment in Infants and Toddlers. Journal of Clinical Child & Adolescent Psychology 46:2, 236-246, DOI: 10.1080/15374416.2016.1188701 Sleep efficiency (but not sleep duration) of healthy school-age children is associated with grades in math and languages – Gruber, Reut et al. Sleep Medicine , Volume 15 , Issue 12 , 1517 – 1525.

#Child sleep consultant #child healthy sleep habits #child

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izaswritings · 4 years

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all that’s left in the world | chapter nine

Title: all that’s left in the world—

Synopsis: —is me.

Neku’s been shot and Shibuya is threatening to go the same way as Shinjuku, but just because the first Game is over doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten how to play.

Or: Neku deals with a nightmare city and his most annoying (and mathematical) partner yet; Shiki and Joshua commit an escalating number of illegal moves, Beat and Eri hunt down a stray Reaper, and Rhyme watches and waits for the counter-attack. Shibuya refuses to go down easy.

Fandom: The World Ends With You | TWEWY

Warnings: cursing, murder and erasure mentions, and referenced character death via the Reaper’s Game. If there’s anything in the chapter you feel I missed, let me know and I’ll add it on here!

AO3 Link is here!

Previous chapters are here!

part nine: neku

It’s all gone. It’s all gone away. She took it all away.

I told her to stop, I asked her to stop—she won’t stop. Stop her. Please, someone stop her.

She’s going to take everything.

Neku is starting to lose patience.

It’s day two in this new nightmare game, and their progress has been… null, basically. Surprise surprise. The night was long and restless and Neku barely slept at all, too wound up and waiting and convinced, deep down, that any second now he’d blink and the day would change, time taken away, Day 2 start. But the blackout had never come, and now it is morning, and he feels like he’s been here years instead of only 24 hours, the timer on his hand ticked down to six days and counting.

He wakes up before Minamimoto, and watches the seconds fall away for a long time before he thinks to move. Six days. Six full days. Neku curls his hand into a fist. He knows he’s not going to kill Joshua. But then, what is Neku going to do?

He’s already lost a day. And yeah, sure he has six days left to make it count, but— but still. He feels ill. He watches the sky lighten outside of his window—the blood red shine in the clouds is lovely, fucking perfect, leave it to Coco to fuck up literally everything—and exhales very softly. Okay. Okay.

Day 2, here they go.

“Now might be a good time for another future vision,” he says to the girl whose voice has been haunting his head, only half joking. He’d heard echoes of her throughout the night—whispered mutterings and pleas, and flashes of a ruined road through a suburb. But once again, there’s no reply, though there’s a static buzz in his ears that feels kind of itchy. Neku sighs.

Minamimoto wakes up not long after, and they hit the roads before the city has fully lit up. The border is a no-go; all that’s left is to scour the town. The problem is—and yeah, it kind of horrifies Neku to realize it—but the problem is there’s nothing to do. They don’t know where they are. They don’t know where they’re going. There’s no missions or wall requests or shops or anything, and yeah, okay, it’s getting to him.

I can say this for Joshua’s Game, Neku thinks, bitterly, picking his way after Minamimoto—who has, once again, taken off without even checking if Neku was awake. The asshole. At least it was never boring.

He’s sort of annoyed he has to even admit that, honestly— even more annoyed to find he misses it. The daily missions had been terrifying, the shopping exasperating, the Support Reapers their own brand of trouble… but at least there had been something to do. A goal to fixate on, distractions to find, people to Reaper Creeper or whatever.

There’s none of that here. There’s nothing here. Just monsters, and empty buildings, and fucking Pi-Face, who has, somehow, in less than a day, stolen the title of “worst partner ever” right out of Joshua’s hands. Neku hadn’t thought it possible, but hey! Here they are!

He’s in a life-or-death deathtrap of a game, and he’s bored. Neku is aware of the irony.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, irritated with himself, and kicks hard at a rock in the road. They’re in some ruin of the main city shopping district—the numerous alleyways and big destroyed pavilion give it away, honestly—and while they’ve fought a few Noise, and run into another one of the possessed people again, all in all its almost mid-day and Neku is starting to get restless.

He tries not to think about what Minamimoto had said last night—or implied, anyway, but isn’t that basically the same thing? It’s not like… Neku doesn’t feel at home in the Game. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even miss it. Maybe it was the place where Neku found himself—maybe it was the place that really made him see the city, and the people around him—but Neku is glad the Game is over. He really is.

But that doesn’t change the fact that Minamimoto wasn’t entirely wrong. Because—and its sick, kind of, because Neku feels settled, here, for the first time in a while. The lightning in his hands, the power in his grasp—it soothes some restless drive Neku hadn’t even realized was there. It’s easier to stop jumping at shadows, because the danger is back and it is real, and it is terrible, it is the worst thing ever, because some part of Neku, beneath the terror and the anger and the frustration at doing all this again—some part of him is whispering, finally.

And no, that’s it, he’s got to stop thinking about this, full stop. Neku clenches his hands in and out of fists and sighs.

“This isn’t working,” Neku says, loudly, stopping on one street corner. Minamimoto… keeps walking. “Hey, Grim Heaper! This isn’t working. We have to figure something else out.”

Because god knows they aren’t getting anywhere with aimless wandering. They’ve already found the border of the city, their one achievement from yesterday— but they’re caged in here, so that’s a useless avenue too. Neku really doesn’t get it. Kill the Composer of Shibuya, but they can’t even get into Shibuya. He can’t tell if this is on purpose or if Coco just, like… forgot or something.

It’s probably on purpose. There’s probably something else going on. God forbid Neku ever gets shot by someone normal, who makes mistakes, like a reasonable person. No, no. He gets all the megalomaniacs, instead. And Joshua, whatever Joshua counts as.

And… Minamimoto is still walking. Holy shit.

“Hey!”

“Eight, nine, ten seconds wasted,” Minamimoto snaps back. “Useless radian. Who gives a digit what you think? It’s all figured out. Don’t become an unknown variable.”

Neku hates that he even knows what that means. It feels like some kind of insult, maybe? Neku was good at math in school. Numbers made sense, sort of. Leave it to damn Pi-Face to make it irritating, though. Ugh. “Figured out,” Neku repeats. “Figured out by who!? Look, asshole, we’re basically walking in circles. There’s nothing here!”

Walking in circles. Wait. Does that count as a math pun?

Neku is briefly distracted from rage by the urge to strangle himself. Never again. He will not be swayed. Joshua would never let him live it down.

(If he ever shows up again. If he even—)

“My calculations are flawless,” Minamimoto is saying, providing a wonderful distraction from the direction Neku’s thoughts were taking. Thank god. “Constants should just stay in line and act as they’re supposed to.”

“Great, wonderful, except I’m not a constant.” Neku resists the urge to throw up his hands. “Why are you even— we already established we’re not getting into Shibuya. What are you looking for?”

Minamimoto snorts. Neku narrows his eyes, and talks fast, before he can get insulted again. “And don’t tell me I don’t need to know. Are you a Reaper or not? Don’t you know how the Game works? We’re in a pact, asshole. Work with me here. Where are we going.”

Minamimoto makes a face, but he finally stops walking, and turns back around to consider Neku again. “What else? There’s only one possible solution.”

“Kill the Composer, yeah, but—”

“Think! The numbers add up. If we can’t get into Shibuya, you useless hectopascal, then we don’t need to. Easy math.”

Neku stalls, at that. Sure, he’d thought as much. But… it doesn’t make sense. Why would Joshua leave Shibuya? Why would he even need to? Unless he’s here for Neku, but… hah. Wishful thinking, right? Neku may be alive and well (or, he was), and that says a lot, but… it’s been a month since the Game. Two, three weeks since he spoke to Joshua, and invited him to the statue. And invited him again. And again.

Joshua never answered.

So, yeah. No. Maybe the math is making sense to Minamimoto, but it’s definitely not adding up for him.

But again: saying any of this to freaking Pi-Face is just, hah. Not happening. Neku shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away, ducking his chin to better hide his expression in his collar. “Why does it even matter?” he says, grudgingly curious. “Do you want to be Composer that bad?”

Minamimoto scoffs. “That’s a zetta stupid question. Why not?”

And that’s. Well. “Are you serious?” Neku snaps, suddenly irritated with the whole mess. Everything this guy did. The Taboo Noise, the explosions, everything. And his goddamn reasoning is “why not?” People had died. Reapers and Players alike— Sota, Nao, the support Reaper. It makes something curl tight and ugly in his chest, makes something else echo in his ears.

There are things from the Game that haunt him always, and this is one of them: Sota’s face, smiling pained but true. Even Joshua seemingly struck silent. The way Sota just seemed to… fade away. Gone in a matter of seconds, nothing left behind, as if he’d never been there at all.

You two survive. Get your old partner back. I hope all three of you… get back safe.

“Whatever.” Minamimoto turns away. “We’ve wasted enough time. If you’re done, I want to at least check out Shinjuku Park before—”

“No, I’m not done!” Neku yanks at his shoulder, spinning him around; the older teen is taller than him, sure, but Neku curls his fingers in that stupid collar and holds tight, something cold and angry singing through his veins. “For someone who likes math so much, you aren’t that fucking good at it!”

Where every other insult slips off, this is the one thing that seems to knock Minamimoto sideways. He gapes, for one instant, and then his mouth snaps shut, an angry flush darkening his cheeks. His eyes are bright with rage. “You—”

“Shut up,” Neku snaps, furious. “What is with you!? Do you get the Game or not? I’m not some part of your stupid equation! I’m not going to just agree and follow you because you say so!” He snarls, a little. “What is your plan? Do you even have one? Because if its ‘kill the Composer,’ again—”

Minamimoto grips at Neku’s wrist, almost in warning, nails digging into the skin of his hand. “My calculations are flawless! This opportunity—”

“Because you did so well at killing Josh the last three times you tried,” Neku says, flat. He lets go of Minamimoto’s collar, stepping back and away in disgust. “For flawless calculations, they sure didn’t work out right, did they?”

Minamimoto’s lips curl back from his teeth, the first open expression of rage Neku’s seen from him yet. “You—”

“Useless radian? Factoring hectopascal?” Neku crosses his arms, unimpressed. “Brain-dead binomial? Right. Okay. You haven’t done anything.”

Minamimoto looks wild around the eyes. “I did everything!” He opens his arms. “Reborn! I can never die! I—”

“You didn’t accomplish shit!” Neku retorts. “You know, except for killing a bunch of people. Congratulations. You’re a grade-A murderer with nothing to show for it.” He throws up his hands. “Shades may have brainwashed the whole damn city, but at least he had a reason! But, what, you just did all that for kicks? Because you could?” Neku lowers his hands, scoffing. “Get a new hobby, if you’re so bored.”

There’s a beat of silence. Minamimoto is grit-toothed and furious, but then something flashes over his face, and he almost seems to falter. His eyes narrow. His fingers curl, and his smile returns, almost a bare of teeth. “Josh, huh?” he says, coolly. “I guess you figured out your little partner’s identity after all.”

Neku lifts his chin, leaning back on his heels. “So what if I did?”

“Then you’re in the same boat as me.” His smile flashes to a grin, wide and fierce. “The Composer’s identity is jealously guarded. Past failures don’t matter. We eliminate him, or he eliminates us.”

Neku stares at him. “That’s… what? But I’ve known for—”

He cuts himself off. It’s too late. Minamimoto is staring at him. “What?” he says. The anger returns. This time he steps forward. “What did you say?”

Neku scowls back at him. If the Grim Heaper thinks he can play at being intimidating, he’s got another thing coming. Neku has vivid memories of this guy getting crushed under a car. The more time he talks with Minamimoto, the more said memory becomes a cheerful recollection. “I found out about Josh at the end of my third week,” he says, stiffly. Hell, he’d told Shiki and Beat and Rhyme, too. No one had stopped him. He hadn’t even known he wasn’t allowed, and nothing happened afterwards, either. Yet another thing to add on the exhausting list of shit Joshua’s done that Neku doesn’t know how to feel about, apparently. “It’s been, what, a month since then?”

“So you hid it—”

“Uh, no, he outed himself pretty obviously. He knows I know.” Neku places a hand on his hip, unimpressed. “Don’t ask me why, either. I don’t know why Joshua does anything, but at least he makes more sense than you.”

Some sense, anyway. The things Joshua says and the things he does, always at odds. But on some level, Neku understands Joshua better than he’s understood anyone, and even now, it still applies. Minamimoto, though. No. And it burns, really, because Neku is trying, he’s partnered with this guy and there must be a reason, there must be some way they can work together, but the more he interacts with him the angrier he is. Sota, Nao. Even Joshua, still, somewhere deep inside Neku’s head, the part that forgets Joshua was never dead at all, the part that’s stuck, always, on that moment—the hand shoving him away, and Joshua’s knowing smile.

Neku, I thought you couldn’t afford to lose.

“Tell me what you want,” Neku says. “Or you’re doing this on your own.”

Minamimoto scoffs. “I don’t need you.”

“Yeah, you do. Partners, remember? If I don’t fight, asshole, then neither can you.”

Silence. Minamimoto narrows his eyes. “…You’d be wide open for attack.”

“Sure.” Neku tilts his head. “But I got really good at running for my life, those three weeks in the Game. But what about you? Reapers, right?” He meets Minamimoto’s gaze and holds it. “Do you still remember what it’s like to live on the run?”

Minamimoto’s fingers curl and uncurl by his sides, restless fists. His expression is thunderous. Neku waits. “Talk,” he prompts, cold. “Otherwise, I’m out.”

His lip curls in a sneer, but in the end, Minamimoto looks away. There’s a pause. He hisses under his breath and then says, grudgingly, “You ever hear the Music?”

Neku blinks, a little thrown. It worked? Holy shit. “What music?”

“The Music,” Minamimoto says, with scornful emphasis. “The city. Shibuya’s eternal code.”

Neku presses his lips. “…Yeah,” he admits. “Only after leaving the Game, though.” His mouth twists, and he looks away, missing it suddenly and fiercely. He wishes he were home. “It’s… it’s really something.”

Minamimoto snorts. “Is it?” Neku snaps his head up, glaring, but Minamimoto isn’t looking at him, eyes distant, staring hard down into the ruined alleyways. “A month, huh? Maybe it’s changed, then.” He smiles, cold and hard. “It was wrong.”

Neku considers him, silently. Slowly, his arms uncross. His stance loosens. He waits, and he listens.

“It used to make sense,” Minamimoto mutters, sounding bitter. “Perfect equations, clear solutions… clean, precise, perfect. Like prime numbers. It stood on its own.” He shakes his head. “But whoever was crunching in the equation—ugh! It was infuriating! Those off-hand notations! Those useless digits! It messed up the whole operation!” His hands clench to fists by his sides.

“So, you decided to take over,” Neku says, neutrally. Despite himself, he understands. The Music—Shibuya’s song—he can’t imagine listening, and hearing it get distorted. The clamoring notes, the harmony, the unceasing melody… he’s not sure he’d, like, jump to murder, but… he’d want to fix it too, if he heard. If the melody started to break.

“One misplaced variable and the whole thing breaks down,” Minamimoto agrees. “QED. An equation that isn’t working has to be redone.”

“…Fine. Okay. I can get that.” Hell, it even fits. Hadn’t Shades—and even Joshua—said the same? The whole point of that nightmare three-week Game was to see if Shibuya could be saved. Shades had thought brainwashing was the solution; Joshua hadn’t seemed to think there would be a solution at all, though he must have changed his mind. And now Minamimoto— the final piece in the puzzle. New management, new rules, and new song.

And yet. “But Shibuya isn’t like that anymore. I mean, I don’t think so, anyway. And even if it was…” That melody. The sing-song harmony. “Everyone’s got their own world. Off-key notes are bound to happen. That’s just… that’s part of the song, too. It can’t always work out. People aren’t like that.” He smiles, a little. “Shibuya isn’t like that.”

“Hah!” Minamimoto says, looking amused and something like scornful. He reaches up again, as if to mess with his hat, and after a momentary pause rolls his eyes and settles his fingers in his hair instead, pushing back the stray strands. “Is that what you think? That’s no solution at all!”

Neku frowns, annoyed again. He leans back on his heels, shoving his hands back in his pockets. “Oh yeah? Then what’s your idea of Shibuya?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention?” Minamimoto opens his arms, cackling. “A new equation! A working component! Factor out the unneeded variables and reach the ultimate value, the true balance between the numbers!”

Neku narrows his eyes at that, thinking it over. “That’s…” Minamimoto is grinning. “No.”

Minamimoto blinks. His fingers curl, smile turning hard with challenge. “Oh?”

Neku crosses his arms, feeling tired all over again. “That’s not— that’s not how people work. You’re the same as Shades.”

“Megs didn’t have even half the vision—”

“Same concept, though, isn’t it?” Neku shakes his head. “People don’t—people don’t make sense, okay? Look, I get it. I used to think… walking those streets… it was all noise. It was all—messy and unplanned and chaotic and everyone had their world and I had mine and the moment those lines got crossed, it was just… so I get it.” He sighs. “But you’re wrong. I was wrong. Shibuya, other people… we can’t pretend to stay separate. We’re all a part of the same whole. We change ourselves and each other without meaning to. We knock into one another and make a mess, and find ourselves in the chaos.” Like CAT’s artwork murals. The symbols piled together, the noise condensed into a beautiful whole, a tapestry of art and music and math and fashion and dreams and—everything. Anything.

“Other people aren’t worthless,” Neku says. “Use whatever math term you want to insult me, but your attitude is just pissing me off. You aren’t the only one in the world, you know. Sorry, but it’s my home too.” He shrugs. “So, no. I don’t think it would have worked. Shibuya isn’t always going to make sense—to follow an equation or a plan.”

Minamimoto looks bored. “The typical nonsense of a radian.”

He should feel insulted, maybe? But all Neku can feel is tired. He turns away. “Whatever. I tried.” It figures, that for all the lessons Neku has learned, he’s not too good at teaching them. But that’s fine, too. Minamimoto’s worldview isn’t his problem— but Neku wonders, honestly, how long he’ll be able to keep that arrogant attitude, when the world as Neku knows it tends to run roughshod over the people who think they know everything.

He wonders, if the answer comes, if Minamimoto would even recognize it.

“You were right about Shibuya needing to change,” Neku says, finally, looking up at that churning gray sky. He can admit this much. But at the same time… Neku saw Shibuya change, little by little, those three weeks. Ai and Mina, making up; Sota and Nao, willing to lend a kind hand and kind ear for someone else’s sake; Ken Doi sticking to his principles; Makoto’s boss leaving Reaper Creeper and the honest advice he gave when he did. People didn’t change because someone new came in charge and told them what to do. Shibuya changed because its people talked to each other. Because they tried. And because someone else listened.

“But you wouldn’t have been able to change it.”

This time, Minamimoto doesn’t say anything.

Neku sighs. His headache has returned with a vengeance; it pounds behind his eyes like a heartbeat, like static crackling in his ears, the echo of another voice. He rubs at his temple, and turns to start walking. “…Never mind. Let’s just go.”

He gets five steps away before he realizes Minamimoto isn’t following. He turns back around. “Look—” Minamimoto has turned away, head tilted back, frowning as if in concentration. His fingers are tapping restless on his knee. “…What is it?”

Minamimoto waves a dismissive hand at him, looking distracted. “Zetta shut up for a sec. I need to…” He doesn’t finish the thought. His eyebrows knit. “Ugh, this place is messing with the parameters.”

Neku scowls at him, a little annoyed. That whole conversation, and what, he’s already dismissed it? Go figure. “What are you talking about?”

But Minamimoto doesn’t seem to hear him. He has one hand up, eyes sharp, like he’s listening to something in the air. He turns his back to Neku and walks three paces, and then his head snaps to the side, eyes widening. For a moment, he seems almost stunned.

Then his expression lightens. His eyes gleam. The smile returns, stretching wide and wild across Minamimoto’s face, and Neku feels a shiver crawl down his spine, the static in his head suddenly reaching crescendo. Whispers and echoes and a warning, breaking through his mind like glass.

Behind you.

The city is cold and white and empty around them. And it is silent. But far away, if he strains his ears, Neku almost thinks he can hear a second set of footsteps.

Minamimoto fixes his eyes into the distance, and laughs low and soft. “What are the odds?” he says, and the tattoo markings of the Taboo crawl up his arm. “Right on time. This mission is already over.”

Neku catches his breath. His head is pounding. “Who—”

“Who do you think, radian?” Minamimoto turns and smiles. “It’s the Composer.”

#twewy #the world ends with you #twewy fic #neku sakuraba #sho minamimoto #fic: all that's left in the world #iza fanfic

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