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#everyone is so fucking talented and i’m just so average that i want to cry my eyes out
nuppu-nuppu · 1 year
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Sorry for not being able to make good art anymore
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therk900 · 3 months
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🫧February TC Challenge (Day 1-29)🫧
1. Do you have more platonic or romantic feelings for them? Romantic feelings tbh
2. Have they ever physically touched you? Yes. A has lots of times, mainly through high fives or "accidental" knee touching! I have touched S's shoulder once. M and i have knocked hands a few times
3. Would you ever plan to pursue them when you graduate? (And when you’re legal) Maybe! Haven't completely decided yet
4. Do you know their birthday/zodiac sign? I know what zodiac sign S is since i know his birthday
5. Do you know their favourite colour? Nope
6. What do they teach? B taught English, M and S teaches science. S also teaches Italian.
7. Do you think you’re their favourite student? I have no clue. Hopefully i am!
8. Are they tall, short, or average height? S is tall. And i mean VERY tall. B is average...man height?? A is 5'11" and M is just a bit shorter than S. I think N is around the same height as M, maybe a cm taller
9. Do they have any pets? B did have a cat once, but it had to be put down when B was 16. M also had a couple pets
10. Do you ever plan to confess your feelings to them? (Careful with this one, they could possibly lose their job or get you in trouble) I don't know, maybe not. i don't want them to lose their jobs. maybe after i leave if i keep in touch with them
11. Do you know any of their talents? S is good at netball if that counts as a talent. N knows how to play the guitar and A knows how to play an instrument (i forget which one 😬)!
12. How often do you think of them? Most of the time
13. Have you told anybody irl about your crush? Yes. I have told my friend. She is the only one that knows
14. Be honest: Do you think you're in love? Happy Valentines Day everyone! To be completely honest, maybe! There are so many things that i've done with all of them that have stuck with me and still make me happy!
15. Do they motivate you to come to school? They motivate me all the time
16. Have you ever seen them cry? I haven’t, no
17. What kind of dynamic do you guys have? M is so fucking nice and caring towards me! He just treats me more differently then other students! A said to my mum personally that I’m his favourite student! He is fun to be around! S likes to joke around with me all the time, and we have this special bond and also treats me differently than other students! B used to be so caring towards me! N is like S!
18. Have they ever caught you staring? I'm pretty sure on multiple occasions
19. What was the most embarrassing thing you’ve done in front of them? (All of us have done some pretty embarrassing stuff, let’s be honest.) Falling in front of S multiple times (haha, i'm so clumsy) and crying in front of B 
20. Do they make you feel safe/loved? Yes
21. Have they ever rendered you speechless? Multiple times. It is a bit embarrassing when it happens. They help me to get my words out which is good
22. Are they a good teacher? They are amazing! Other students think so as well
23. Is there something they do that gives you the ick? No
24. Are you guys close? Well, kind of. With M, N and S, we are very close! A and i are quite close as well! B and i were close, but not as close as the rest.
25. Have you ever looked for their initial in those stupid TikToks that eight year olds make? I have a couple times. I just do it for fun
26. Have you ever dreamed about them? Plenty of times! I love each and ever one of them
27. Do you see yourself in a relationship with them? Kind of
28. Have you ever cried in front of them? I have cried in front of B and N once. S saw me just after I have cried which was embarrassing. M has seen me nearly cry. i was so close to crying in front of him, but i didn't.
29. How often do you speak to him/her? All the time 
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BOOKS
Hi all! Got COVID, took two weeks off of work, re-watched stranger things (and I HAVE THOUGHTS...though not what this post is about) and I read five books! (Which is what this post is about.) (okay...actually I read four and a half books and then just finished the fifth one) 
1) We Were Liars by E. Lockhart 
Honestly, I liked this! It was a solid start to my book binging. I was able to read it in a day while slightly feverish from COVID and I enjoyed that it kept me guessing and had me on my toes until the end. I also loved that for random reasons I won’t fully explain there were several personal connections that I have to the book/story/characters. I also feel like I know families like the Sinclairs so I COMPLETELY vibed with their whole generational trauma that they had going on. Would recommend, would probably not read again, solid start to the reading burst. 3.5/5
2) The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune
Listen...is this a good book? Yes. Did I enjoy reading it? Also yes. But was the majority of that experience just me waiting for Chauncey to come onto the page with this little fucking bellhop hat asking about pressing someones clothes or taking their coat or packing their bags? ummm...YES. Literally would die for Chauncey. I request a million spin offs that are just about him learning to be a bellhop in the future. If there are a million fans of Chauncey...I am one of them, if there is one fan...that fan is me...if there are no fans...I am DEAD from the cuteness overload of Chauncey. 4/5
3) The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab
TALENTED. BRILLIANT. INCREDIBLE. AMAZING. SHOW-STOPPING. SPECTACULAR. NEVER THE SAME. TOTALLY UNIQUE. COMPLETELY NOT EVER BEEN DONE BEFORE. Yeah basically I fucking loved this book. I wanted to know what happened and yet I never wanted it to end. I was crying, I was laughing, I was in love. I would read again and again and again. 5/5 
4) Verity by Colleen Hoover
Okay............here’s the thing. Is Colleen Hoover actually a good writer? So many people are obsessed with her books. I’m not the biggest romance person so I decided to start with one that was more of a thriller vibe and this book....this book is terrible. I am sorry for everyone who may be upset with me about this hot take. But the prose was awful, the dialogue was weird, the love story was FLAT (I literally did not believe that there was any chemistry or attraction between these people at all) and the ending was...so disappointing. I spent half of my time reading it thinking about how I could probably write it better. I mean sure there was a solid thirty pages towards the end where I wanted to know how things were going to end (that gets it half a point). But THEN she pulls out this twist in the last second that is soooooo unsatisfying in its resolution. I just....I can’t in good conscience recommend this book to other people. 0.5/5 
5) They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera 
Ugh...I wanted to love this book so so bad. It was significantly better from Varity, but I was expecting it to hit me like Addie LaRue or Cerulean Sea did and it just fell slightly flat. I did love the characters and how everything connected in the end and the message of the book, but I wanted it to be....more. I may have enjoyed it more if I’d read it faster? Like if I’d actually successfully binged it like the rest of the books I read over vacation. Anyway a solidly average book, would still recommend to others. 3.5/5 
And that’s a wrap!!! Really excited to read even more after finishing residency this summer so send recs my way plzzzzzz. 
may write a really unhinged post about my stranger things thoughts...might not...we will see haha 
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21.6.23
I wrote on here like 40 minutes ago. It’s 11 mins past midnight now.
I think, right now in this moment, I want to die. My chest feels a bit strange.
I think it’s because everything is so big. Mum and my relationship or lack thereof. Nan and grandad. I can’t even think about any of it.
I can’t even think about me. And my place in the world any more.
Maybe I’m making up everything I feel and all that’s happened. I just want to be someone else, somewhere else. Some other life.
I’m not going to do anything. We have too much going on. And I don’t want to fuck up my future if I survive it.
I used to feel like this constantly. But now it usually passes. Im being dramatic.
I wish I could call someone I could be honest with. I might just cry nonstop tonight. I want that real cathartic sob but I’m just doing small crying and that’s all that seems possible.
It’s summer so I don’t want to hurt myself and leave a mark. Im scared of pain too.
Life is hard.
I think A+I have gone off me. I think everyone has. I’m tolerated by them because we are colleagues.
I want something terrible to happen to me so I have a reason to feel so crap. An excuse for my being.
I don’t want to see anyone or do anything. I want to rot. I want to walk into the sea. I want to be hospitalised and have no one know.
I’d like someone to hit me round the head with a baseball bat and be done with it.
Life is hard because I am bad. I am ugly. I am boring. I am average. I am not special. My heart stopped racing when I typed that. The fluttery feeling in my chest went. Maybe that’s because I know it’s true. And that honesty with myself is freeing. Or maybe it’s because it isn’t true. I don’t know and I don’t care and it doesn’t matter.
I hate my name. I love it. I want to change it. It’s so recognisable. That’s why I love and hate it. People use it to perceive me. It means something to them and they have pictures and sounds and feelings in them when they hear it. I hate it. I hate that.
Shall I just stop existing? Shall I just allow the universe to take me? Take me rather than dad.
Can I be bothered to exist? Endless washing up and meal cooking and clothes washing and bed making and floor mopping and bin changing and fridge organising and shoe tying.
Nothing exceptional is going to happen to me. There I said it. I’m going to work a job until I die. I’ll be mediocre at it. Better than some, worse than others.
I won’t realise talent. I won’t actualise anything. I won’t be rich or famous or adored or revered. I am not destined for greatness.
Nothing exceptional happens to most people. Most people live boring, monochrome lives with a smattering of paint here and there. They marry someone who is good enough. Their house is good enough. Their bodies are good enough. Their clothes are good enough. Their lifestyle is good enough. Their sex is good enough. Their friendship is good enough. Their job is good enough. Good enough. Not in a good way. In a huh ok way. That’s life. That’s all I’m destined for. The exact same thing everyone else has. Nothing exceptional is ever going to happen to me.
Because I am not exceptional.
Fine. Fuck you. Fuck this. I am angry because it’s true. I am disappointed because it’s true.
Nothing great is coming my way. I will live a complacent, uneventful life. Like everyone else. Fuck life. I don’t want that. I want more.
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555swag · 1 year
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I have a higher iq than average, basically my mathematics skills are quite low but still average, my logic skills are a bit higher but average and my language skills are very much above average. cool. My parents as well as the school psychologist tell me “you’re smart” Idc if I’m smart, I hate school. Sitting there and studying, doing homework is awful, I’m wasting so many tears over it. My teachers also tell me “your grades aren’t bad” etc. Basically everyone thinks I’m smart, but school is draining me so much. I might be lazy or idk. Autism+laziness+no support is not rly nice tbh. Also what should I even study for? A future? How can I have a future with my E in maths, physics and P.E? I don’t think I can have a future, when school is too much to me, how am I supposed to ever make an effort for anything? They tell me I’m throwing my “talent” away but bro, I don’t care if I have my bechlor or doctor or whatever, I just wanna do what I like. Why do I need to suffer? My psyche is so instable, I’m making such an effort to keep my shit together and to be stable but school makes it so much harder. Sometimes I wish, I was stupid, then I could like go to some lower school by “im too stupid anyway” and nobody would have expectations. I’m gonna cry writing this, I’m so done, I feel like disappointing everyone when I’m dropping out next year, but man, I do not want to suffer anymore. P.E is torture, it is traumatizing and I feel like Imm being mentally abused in this subject. I may be overreacting, but this is a vent account after all. I am so done with all of this, I’m so terrified of my teachers and so scared and I feel so guilty that I don’t care about my grades anymore, but if I suffer, it’s only natural to stop caring. I’m so sorry for my parents, although they haven’t always been the nicest, I’m sorry I won’t make them proud. What am I to do though? Am i being selfish? nah and still. Okay, I’m shedding tears while holidays now, thinking about school. Fuck the motherfucking who made schoolsystem. Fuck you and your fuckinh cock
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rmpmw · 2 years
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Bono’s manager says Bono does all the work and I get all the money. Frankly I don’t have a problem with that arrangement.
Basically Paul McGuinness (above, right) is calling me a thief. It’s been all over the news. He gave a big speech at some conference in Cannes. See one story about it here. Money quote: “McGuinness challenged Steve Jobs, chief executive of Apple, to ‘apply his ingenuity’ to solving the music industry crisis. … `These are very clever people and a lot of fun to work with,’ McGuinness said about the technology and Internet community in Silicon Valley. `But they’ve been extremely socially irresponsible.'”
You can see the full text of his speech here.
Now look. I know Paul McGuinness. I’ve done business with him. He loves to tell everyone the story of how we sat down and made a deal on the back of a napkin. In one version of it he says that when he followed up a few weeks later I tried to change the terms and give myself a bigger slice but he whipped out his napkin and I was busted.
Whatever. I have no recollection of any such meeting. I will tell you that Paul was out in the Valley recently sniffing around and taking meetings and trying to figure out how this whole Interwebs thing works and where the money goes. I will also tell you that the Irish have a term called “a cute hoor” and Paul is definitely a prime example. Note, for example, that he says it’s not that U2 wants more money — it’s that I am being socially irresponsible. My goodness. Really?
The fact is that by the age of twelve your average Northsider from Dublin has forgotten more ways to skin you on a deal than any of us regular folks will ever know. And this speech by Paul McGuinness is a classic Northsider ploy. They play the victim. They dance around crying poor and moaning about the dole and the famine and meanwhile they’re cleaning out your pockets. Luckily for us the whole thing is blowing up in their faces and they’re getting savaged in the blogosphere.
What Paul needs to understand is that bands, like companies, have a normal lifespan and that U2 has gone well past its sell-by date. That’s just the reality here. Because let’s be honest. The truth is that Bono isn’t much of a singer, and Edge isn’t much of a guitarist, and Larry and Adam stopped getting better on their instruments back in about 1983. So these are four guys with a little bit of talent who got extremely lucky and were extremely shrewd and have milked their modest abilities for well more than they were ever worth.
Fine. Good for them. I’m happy for them. But to say that Apple is taking advantage of them is just ridiculous. Do you have any idea how hard it is to set up a store like iTunes? Or to design and build iPods? Does Paul McGuinness know that? Does he realize how many hundreds or even thousands of people are involved in making that whole system work correctly, from end to end? All the progammers and designers and engineers? All the user interface people? Not to mention the business people who cut the deals and interface with the talent and keep all the contracts up to date?
All of those people have to eat. None of them is getting rich. Well, except me. And maybe a few top guys right underneath me. But basically you’ve got thousands of hardworking people just making an honest living keeping this whole Internet distribution model alive and running.
Then you’ve got four retards from Dublin and their manager. Because ask yourself this. How much work do you think really went into writing any of those songs? Take it from me, I’ve hung out with Bono and the other guys and I’ve seen them when they’re drunk and I’ve heard them tell the stories. “Sunday Bloody Sunday” was written in ninety minutes when they were fucking around in their little rehearsal space. Started out with a drum beat, then some bass, then Edge threw some bullshit plink-plink guitar on it and Bono started shouting whatever came into his head. “Boy” and “October” were all just old stuff they’d written when they were in high school.
The entire “Atom Bomb” album took about a month from start to finish. I know because I was there when they were slapping it together. But now they think they aren’t getting paid enough. Well, I’ve got an idea. Maybe U2 could just make their own Internet, with their own routers and operating system, and they could code up their own store, and build their own iPods, and keep all the money for themselves. I think I’ll call Paul McGuinness right now and suggest that.
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bonny-kookoo · 3 years
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Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞
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Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader
Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else
Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?
Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?
A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.
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On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.
He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.
Jungkook had made it.
Well, not quite.
Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.
"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.
And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.
"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.
"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.
"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.
Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.
You were so tiny next to him.
He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.
You were so cute.
You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.
"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.
"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.
If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.
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You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.
"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.
"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.
"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.
"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.
"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.
Jungkook really pays attention.
"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.
"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.
"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.
Not the time Y/N, not the time.
"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.
"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.
You don't know what to say.
He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.
When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.
He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.
"Good girl."
It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.
"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.
"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-
"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.
"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"
"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.
And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.
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It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.
Things are different between you two in general.
After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.
And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.
It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.
"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.
"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.
"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.
"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.
"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.
"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.
"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.
Almost.
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"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.
"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.
"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.
"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.
He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.
"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.
"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.
"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.
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It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.
You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.
He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.
"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.
"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.
"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.
He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.
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Jungkook is frustrated.
He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.
And not just hugging and holding hands.
It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.
As far as he knows, he had done everything right.
But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.
'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.
'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.
'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.
But its your answer that makes him fume.
'Good to know.'
"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.
"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.
"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.
"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.
"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.
"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.
'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'
"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.
"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.
In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.
"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.
"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.
"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.
"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.
Thank god you're staying the night.
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"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.
"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.
He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.
Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.
He's anything but.
He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.
There's no urgency in anything he does.
He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.
"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.
"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.
"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.
What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.
Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.
"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.
"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.
Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.
"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.
"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.
"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.
"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.
"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.
"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.
"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.
"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.
"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.
Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.
"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."
And he can't help but grin at you.
You really are the sweetest thing.
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You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.
"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.
"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.
"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.
"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.
Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.
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(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.
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darlingbudsofrae · 3 years
Text
Neil Josten Appreciation Post
Foxes Appreciation Series : 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 ||
Alright, let’s just start this by addressing the big elephant in the room: everyone loves Neil Josten. EVERYONE.
If you don’t, you’re lying. 
Okay, first up- I’m glad this is getting addressed more on AFTG tumblr but Neil is literally so much smarter than the fandom gives him credit for.
Like yes, he’s a little dumdum on the social aspect of things (you could argue he kind of has a low EQ but also not really, I would argue that later)
but that doesn’t dismiss that he is smart af and that he can kill you and make it look natural if he wants.
For example, he literally outrun and hid from the mafia for years. Like, that in itself is an obvious point but we often forget that he did this at a very young age.
Like, he was presumably what? 16?? (when Mary kicked the bucket?) And kid was already playing hide and seek pretty well with a freaking mafia.
He does not get enough credit for this.
The survival skills it takes- the mental strength to survive as a runaway and technically he’s also homeless- at freaking 16, that’s just insane.
Also, let’s not mention the fact that it takes skills to forge official papers and all that.
We also do not talk enough about Neil and how he freaking have to relearn an entirely new position just to play exy.
I don’t think most remember that he’s actually a backliner, but have to play as a striker because it was the only available position in that local high school he attended in Millport, and that was how Kevin saw him so he was recruited as a striker.
We also additionally do not talk enough about how Kevin “literal and figurative Son of Exy” Day found potential for court in Neil “I’m a backliner but I’m playing striker because it’s the only thing available and I’m an exy junkie” Josten who only played it for like a year or less. 
Like yeah, Kevin said he needs more training but it’s not even Neil’s official position. 
The talent on this man- I cannot, he is such an icon. 
Aside from his great survival skills and being literally great at picking things up- he’s also like freaking academically smart.
Like that also doesn’t get enough credit- I mean, he does math for fun.
Frankly, I think if you did Kumon or if you had an awesome teacher you could also do math for fun (I know I did) but this should be noted with the fact that he didn’t have proper schooling.
He went on a run at a really young age so there is no way he received formal education.
Which means he is naturally like really smart.
He’s also a polyglot. And the languages he has under his belt are all freaking difficult to learn- like, no kidding: French, German, and he can assumingly speak intermediate Spanish, and we don’t even have an idea if this is all the languages he can speak.
Also, he and Andrew learns how to speak Russian, right? Like, that’s crazy.
The brain on this man and the power that he has- my son, I am so proud.
I mean, for all we know- there’s more than that and the fact that he’s like 18 at TFC screams supremacy.
This is where I argue about his EQ but Neil is crazy perceptive.
It took him like freaking 3 seconds to figure out the team dynamics the foxes have, and how to work against it.
He later figured out how to make it all mesh together.
Like the way he do things isn’t conventional but reading him analyze his team despite his lack of empathy really makes me shudder.
Like, this kid is so freaking smart. I remember reading his thought process for the very first time and being like, okay- I definitely did not think about that.
The main problem with his EQ though is that he doesn’t know how to process positive stuff when he’s involved, but when he’s the outsider- his perspective is so amazing.
Like again, he kind of lacks empathy but the way he understands things and is just so sharp is just noteworthy.
I’d argue he doesn’t understand social cues and “modern teen things” but he isn’t so completely clueless on the social aspect in general as to not manipulate an entire team of misfits with issues to work together.
He’s literally the key to unity in AFTG. Even Dan says so.
Also, the way he puts things into play- like he’s a master manipulator, and I love that for him.
We do not talk enough about manipulative Neil, like I just really love manipulative characters in general so much- especially if they’re just owning it. 
I mean, he freaking manipulated Andrew and Aaron into therapy. Kind of evil but also wow. (just a sidenote, please don’t force people into therapy lol)
Going completely dark for a second, Neil also has a freaking high pain tolerance.
The amount of horrible things he went through in the books were just so sad and the fact that he just kind of moves on from it? That’s just completely oh my gods.
My poor summer child, even if you can kill me at any given time, let me just hug you for a second with consent.
Everyone also gives shit about Neil’s fashion choices and granted it is said he kind of bags the homeless looks but the fact that he values utility above all else-
Yes, we stan a resourceful king. 
Lowkey though, am I the only one who appreciate Neil’s average style?
Speaking of style- I love the way Neil narrates. Like, the way he doesn’t give much attention to how the character looks- it’s just so realistic?
Because if I’m talking to a person in real life, there is no way I am noting how his blue polo makes him kind of casual but clean-cut and how his brown eyes is as warm as my morning coffee. Like, who even does that?
The thing with Neil’s narration is that it’s just so authentic- like it easily engages the readers and the way he gives importance to every thing the same way, it really makes it easier for the reader to discern things objectively, y’know what I mean?
He just has that quality in a main character and narrator- he’s laidback and sarcastic but not trying too hard, and he’s just really easy to love.
Like, I normally don’t like narrators/main characters in books because I favor a side character more or just because they’re annoying, but Neil Josten is legit lovable. 
At the same time, he’s also a really well-written character. Like, for all the technicalities I point out in AFTG, Neil is an asshole. He’s not perfect and I don’t 100% love everything that he does and I love that.
He’s a flawed character but he gives you something to root for- and I just really want to appreciate his characterization for a second. Most books make their characters’ flaws not even their fault to put a check to the flawed character but at the same time still have that perfect character. Eeww, no- give me real flaws to work with.
He’s one of the realest protagonists I ever read.
Like people give him shit for wanting to hide but also choosing to play a nationwide-discerned sport on an infamous collegiate team but for me it’s kind of realistic.
Because I think we, as human beings, also do things we love too much regardless of logic. I don’t know, like it’s kind of funny the way Neil is written but I honestly didn’t see him joining Palmetto as a loophole.
Like, just think of all those successful people who hid their identities via pseudonym or other necessary means to do things they weren’t expected to do or weren’t allowed to do.
For me, his character was really just looking for excuses to play his favorite sport a second longer and if anything, that’s just kind of sad.
But also, his dedication and love to exy is really admirable- like I never understood it but the way he literally does everything to stay on the court for a second longer just makes me want to root for him.
On a random note, Neil may not have an eidetic memory like Andrew’s but the way he memorize most phone numbers by heart? 
Bruh, I don’t even have my phone number memorized and I freaking have it for two years now. 
He also memorizes every twists and turns at every trip, every exits at a room he enters, and most people’s tics upon the first meeting, and other things and that’s just crazy perceptive but also really crazy on another level.
Also, we don’t get much ace/demi representation and out of the few I’ve consumed, demi Neil Josten validates me. He’s legit my favorite character that belongs in the ace spec in books.
I just really love Neil’s character so much- he’s just so amazing.
One thing I always appreciate about Neil Josten is that while he’s not a total angel (sadly), the way he loves the foxes- like he legit tried to mend the team and make sure everyone is going to be okay before walking straight to his death- like I’m with Andrew on this one, what a fucking martyr. Why are you like this and why am I crying?
Neil Josten is by all means not soft, that much is established, but the way he’s just still as precious and must be protected at all costs-
"You know, I get it," Neil said. "Being raised as a superstar must be really, really difficult for you. Always a commodity, never a human being, not a single person in your family thinking you're worth a damn off the court—yeah, sounds rough. Kevin and I talk about your intricate and endless daddy issues all the time."
I love him, your honor- where can I file this adoption papers and do I have anything else to sign?
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baecvlt · 3 years
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Hello hello! I looove your work! I was wondering if I could requests Kazuichi taking his best friend(or lover! Just thought friend would make it more interesting) on a late night car ride to test some adjustments he made to it, could end up with some steamy car sex? Hopefully this made sense! I've been craving this kind of fic
Car Sex: Kazuichi Soda x Reader
a/n: It’d be an honor to write this. Hope you enjoy! ALso VERY WELL ESTABLISHED FRIENDSHIP HERE + projecting my interests onto reader because I get selfish AND I feel like Kaz listens to rock/alt/indie music. K byeee. ALSO READER IS FEM, pls specify next time
It was a Friday night, you were out for dinner with your best friend, Kazuichi Soda. You were glad to finally get out the house. It got lonely, plus you got to catch up with him and see him personally. He offered to pay for your meal, you allowed it since this time you were tight on money. As he paid, you notice he was excited about something.
“I know this is so last minute,” he began,“But I was wondering if you’d come back to the shop with me”
You nodded, but remained curious. “Of course, I’ll go, but why?”. He leaned toward you and he was excited. His leg was shaking and hands slightly shaking. “I’m finally finished with my car!,” he cheered,“I want you to be the very first to join me for a test drive!”. You smiled. Kazuichi had been working on this car since high school. He almost gave up on it too, so you were happy he never gave up on it. “Of course I’ll go!,” you told him, just as cheerful as he was. You both has walked to the restaurant, now walked back to the shop.
His family was there, closing the shop up. You obviously greeted them. He walked right past them and to the garage. A sheet was on top of the car. Once you were in the room, he walked towards it. He grabbed the sheet, doing a small countdown. “3..2..1-”. He yanked the sheets off, revealing a new and improved car. “So, what do ya think?”. You were excited with him now. “Jesus, the paint job on this is amazing!,” you said to him. “‘May have taken me my whole high school and half my college experience to finish it, but it was worth it!”.
“Totally”
“What do ya say? Should we take it out for a spin”
“You don’t have to ask me twice”
He cheered quietly, opening the passenger door for you and hopping into the driver’s side. He opened the garage door, pulling out of the driveway. He had only driven down the street and you saw how nervous he was. You grabbed his hand, he gasped when you did. “Hey, I’m sure the car is fine, don’t stress out”. He smiled, putting his arm around you. You relaxed laying back. You drove around for about half an hour, going up some hill to a mountain. “Where are we going?,” you asked him.
“We’re gonna look at the stars”
“Ooo, nice”
He parked by the edge of the mountain. It was weird because no other cars were to be seen. Usually there were. “By the way, I wanna show you the coolest thing here,” he said, opening the glove compartment. He took out a CD, Slowdive's 1993 album Souvlaki, and revealed he had a working stereo. "Holy shit, it works?," you were excited. He nodded, popping in the CD. "I love Slowdive," you mumbled. He smiled, chuckling a little.
"I know. You were listening to it the day we met"
"Oh! I was...Yeah, I remember you came up to me that day. You were so awkward"
"Right? God, I feel like I acted like a douche"
"You were like,'Hey, we shouldn't be able to hear your music'"
"Yeah, yeah. Then you were all,'Oh, sorry!'. Then, I was like,'Don't worry, but anyway, Slowdive, huh?'"
You both laughed. "God, I felt that you were trying to hit on me that moment," You told him,"But you're just...you're really nice". Smiling, he shook his head. "Do you miss high school?," he asked. You thought about it for a moment. Did you? "You know what," you began,"Partially". He was confused. "What do you mean?".
"Well, we all had good times in high school. We had good friends, all those memories. We've kinda drifted away, but that's why I partially miss it"
"So why don't you?"
"I felt like I didn't belong"
He looked at you sympathetically. "You all had an established talent. I didn't," you told him,"Sometimes, I still wish I hadn't gone". Hearing you say so saddened him. "But you're good at a lot," he said,"You were better than everyone there". "You're just saying--".
"No! I swear, you are talented at a lot. It was just never put into one thing. You aren't alone either. Hajime never had an exact talent, Nagito won a lottery...you belonged there just as anybody else. You are a Jack of All Trades—"
"—Master of None."
"NO! You are the master of all!"
You smiled. "I care so much about you. I'm really glad we met. I just know that if we hadn't met my life wouldn't be the way it is now...," he said,"So, please, never say that again! You belonged there". You lay back in your seat, trying not to cry. For the first time in forever you felt like you had a place in the world, it felt weird, but not bad. You weren't used to feeling important. "Are you even happy with your life?". He looked at his thumbs when you asked him that. You were afraid of his answer, you didn't know why, but you were.
"There are somethings I wish I didn't have to deal with, but when I think about you, I realize that it's all worth dealing with...and that makes me the happiest man in the world"
"Kaz..."
He said your name, his voice low when he did. It interrupted anything you wanted to say next and your thoughts were racing. "I..I—". He sighed. You knew whatever he had to say next was not easy for him to spit out. "You know how important this car is was for me, it took up my entire high school year to work on. I know I had fun doing it, but I didn’t build it for me,” he sputtered and you could tell he was nervous,“I made this car so that...so that I'd have something to impress you with the day I had the courage to tell you how I really feel about you. I love you and I have for so long. I don't see myself being with anyone else and I wanted you to think of me as the coolest guy you'd ever met and now you probably think I'm a chump–"
You launched yourself towards him, attacking his lips and you felt his skin radiating. He felt as if he had been kissed by an angel. "I love you too, Kaz," you whispered. You really did. Crawling onto his lap, you pushed his hair back. "I wish it hadn't taken you so long to tell me," you added, frowning,"We could have done all these cute high school couple things, then moved onto adult couple things". He kissed you this time, his hands on your hips as you nibbled his bottom lip. He managed to move you both to the passenger side in order to prevent your back setting the horn off. He stopped for a minute.
"'Adult couple things'?"
"Yeah"
"Well, we're adults now, aren't we? And who says we're too old to do what high schoolers do"
"You're not wrong either...but are you interested in doing adult things with me?"
He blushed and looked away for a minute,"I, uh- I've never done it before. I was waiting do it with someone who loves me, y'know? But- you love me, right?". You laughed, nodding. He laughed too, shaking his head as he reached up your skirt, his calloused and rough hands rubbing your thighs. "Hoh-okay, you asked for it". He leaned forwards to kiss you, grabbing the waistband of your panties as his tongue entered your mouth. He pulled them down, allowing you to remove the rest by making his seat go further back. You kicked them off, going to unzip his jeans and pull those down too along with his boxers. He was already rock hard and made you throb just looking as his cock. It was slightly above average in both length and girth, but what did you expect from a dork like him?
You took off your entire skirt before climbing right back into his lap right after pulling them down, he smirked and lowly praised you: "Good girl". He kissed you a little more before he grabbed his cock, ready to guide it inside you. "You ready?". You were shaking, but uttered a soft,"Yes...". Before he could, the Slowdive song you were listening to when you first met started playing and you knew this was meant to happen. You melted when he heard it too. It means it meant something to him and it meant as much to him as it meant to you. "You remember this song, baby?". He pressed light kisses on your forehead as you nodded. You felt his tip at your entrance and you whined. "W-Wait! Kaz, please be careful," you begged. He nodded and kissed you again. "I'll be soft," he reassured you,"Besides, I want to take my time with you. Okay?". You took a breath and relaxed.
"Okay"
"Uh, wait- I should probably ask. Did you wanna do this laying down? I don't think it's fair if you're on top during our first. Plus, I don't want your back to hurt"
"Y-Yeah, my back was starting to ache a little"
He nodded, putting the seat all the way back, now mimicking a bed. You switched positions, spreading your legs for him. He put the volume on the stereo almost all the way up before picking your legs up. He positioned himself again, pushing in just the tip. You gasped quietly, breaking into a very sweet moan as he pushed in all the way, groaning lustfully. He repeatedly pushed in: deep, but slow. He only felt his erection grow harder seeing you blush. Your little moans and soft whimpers when he'd hit that one spot you thought only you would be able to reach made him twitch inside you. He tried to keep his composure, but your walls constantly pumping him made it almost impossible. He leaned forward, desperately trying to kiss you. You could've melted right then and there, seeing how this man made love to you. "I-I love you..," he whispered against your lips. God, he was so cute too.
"I love you too, Kaz, but this is a little too slow now"
"Please, tell me what you need"
"I want you fuck me harder"
"Whatever you say, princess"
His thrusts went from "slow and deep" to "abrupt and very deep". "Like that?". You kissed him in response, grabbing his hair and pushing his head to you. His hips snapped inside you, making it harder to control your breathing. At this point, the windows as fogged up, making the air around you hot. He grabbed your breast, massaging them. You did him the favor of unbuttoning your blouse. You grabbing his hand and slipped it under your bra. "They're so pretty and warm," he mumbled. You could tell he didn't want you to hear that from how low he said it, but you heard it well. He pulled your bra down to your torso, ducking his head down to be able to suck on your breasts a little. "K-Kaz! I'm really sensitive there!". He didn't respond, so entertained by your boobs, knowing playing with them made you feel good.
Your stomach was in knots and it was hard to hold anything anymore.
It took one really hard thrust, making you squirt. He didn't even know it could do that. You didn't cum all the way through, making it uncomfortable now. You felt like you were being edged. "Kaz, it doesn't feel good anymore".
"Do we stop?"
"No, no! Just...I need to cum"
"I'll get you there"
His hands went back to your hips, slamming into you fast and deep. Your body trembled, shaking as he hit your sweet spot again and again and again. "Is this okay?," his voice husky as he was nearing his orgasm too. You nodded, whining. "I-It feel so good..please don't stop," you cried,"It's so good!..". He went faster, grunting softly. You were near crying, about to release. "Are you gonna cum?". He was just as impatient as you were.
"I'm cumming, I-I'm cumming"
"I can't last anymore. C-Can I cum inside?"
"Please, baby"
He groaned you name, shooting his load in you. You knew it was a lot too, feeling it when you moved. He pulled out, laying on the other seat lazily. You were still so turned on, pumping your two fingers in and out of you, securing his cum inside you. "Good girl". You picked your braw up to cover your chest since it was getting cold. "You look so pretty," he added. You were blushing as he helped you with your clothes. Naturally, you helped him with his. "I hope this is a good time to ask, but...". "Yes?"
"I want you to be my girlfriend"
"I'm so glad you do. Yes, Kazuichi, I'll be your girlfriend!"
"Yes! Fuck Yes! Oh god, I'm so happy!"
You kissed his cheek, making him become even more giddy as he wrapped his arm around you and drove you to his home. Kissing on his bed, he hugged you tightly afterward as you shushed him to sleep.
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arhvste · 3 years
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❝ my assumptions based on your fav hq character ❞
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these are all in good fun and not serious at all, please don’t get upset by them, my opinion doesn’t mean shit bby :,)
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HINATA SHOYO
-> a soft bitch with a big heart. you want others to do well and you love positive attention. you do however, get overworked by emotion and sometimes get played because of how nice you are. judge people a little harsher and don’t be shy to put a bitch back in their place, you got this
KAGEYAMA TOBIO
-> we get it youre a bad bitch but sometimes it comes across like you’re still going through your angsty teen phase. stop that, you’ll get permenant wrinkles if you keep it up. let yourself live a little freely and don’t be shy to leave your comfort zone more often. and stop getting sad over the smallest things okay?
TSUKISHIMA KEI
-> horrible taste in men and you have a degradation kink. you wanna be called a little slut in the bedroom but would cry if you were called it anywhere else. you’re very kind people but you’re constantly putting yourself down and thinking you deserve shit over nothing. be kinder to yourself
YAMAGUCHI TADASHI
-> you’re the supportive friend people go to when they need a pick-me-up however, you let yourself get walked over from time to time and it’s not fair on you. don’t be shy to kick a bitch and show them who’s can be the alpha >:) you’re a bad bitch with a big heart and you’re academically stable
NISHINOYA YŪ
-> shush, indoor voices please! it’s okay! we know you’re here you don’t need to shout! you’re probably between 4’0-5’3 and preach personality over looks which is fine because as everyone should. you’re insecure around others and feel the need to have a bigger presence to feel more confident. it’s okay though, i think you’re really hot and you should let yourself feel more comfortable with people you actually like more often.
TANAKA RYŪNOSUKE
-> loyal as fuck and dependable. you’re the bitch people know they can come to should they ever need it. you’re popular and you own every hallway you strut through. you let the feeling of dejection get to you though and worry about how you’re perceived by the people you’re surrounded by especially if there’s a potential love interest in your orbit. calm down and be yourself more, it’s their loss if they don’t fall for you anyway.
ASAHI AZUMANE
-> stop letting people talk over you! you’re that bitch so why the hell do you let people overpower you? you’re hot and you know you’re capable but you wallow up in self doubt and get upset over nothing. remind yourself that you’re hot, loved and talented more often because you need it.
SUGAWARA KOUSHI
-> you’re deceptive and it’s not always a bad thing. you’re good at switching up your personality and probably act fake to certain people which is fair enough. you can be a bit of a bitch sometimes but you’re hot and funny so you get away with it. learn to break down your barriers a little more though because when people start seeing your act they’ll become untrusting around you.
DAICHI SAWAMURA
-> OKAY daddy issues pack it up now. no i’m kidding but you’re attracted to mentally stable people with good morals. someone that will take care of you and be there for you. try to be more self reliant and independent though.
OIKAWA TOORU
-> we know you’re hot okay? you don’t need to post thrist traps on snapchat at 2AM every night we get it! you’re a little whiny and bratty but that’s a given. you’re a burnt out gifted child and you were probably in top classes or top league for a sport between ages 8-14 before you started becoming more average. that’s fine too though, just remember you have talents that lie elsewhere you just have to find them.
IWAIZUMI HAJIME
-> daddy issues 0.2. you’re bossy and demanding but fair. you judge others accordingly and have a good sense of who’s a good person and who’s not. you need to be more open with people and let more people in though. you’re protective of yourself and don’t let your walls down so easily. soften them and let others in more.
MATSUKAWA ISSEI
-> you’re just here for a good time and a good railing that’s all i have to say.
HANAMAKKI TAKEHIRO
-> you’re the bitch that has to listen to the mattsun stans last hook up. you’re hot too, go have a good time.
KUROO TETSURŌ
-> you’re extremely hot and i would absolutely make out with you right here right now. no i’m kidding. i’m not but anyways, you have mommy issues and you need to get over it. you also need to stop being so analytical of people because some people don’t like being read and you step over peoples boundaries sometimes. control yourself you feral thing.
KOZUME KENMA
-> ah yes. everyone’s favourite ‘i have issues but i don’t want to deal with them, so i’ll be a whore online instead’. that’s a half joke but seriously, you’re doing fine bby you don’t even need to worry. nobodies judging you and even if they are they’re way uglier and dumber than you. even still you should be friendlier to those around you and let your guard down a little more.
YAKU MORISUKE
-> you’re like a little dog. yappy and lively. you’re also very trustworthy and i would tell you my deepest and darkest secrets and feel safe about it. you’re strong willed and put others in their place at ease. you do however, need to be a little more selfish and put yourself first at times. selflessness is great but it’s okay to put yourself first sometimes and you need to do that more often.
LEV HAIBA
-> you’re literally so hot and i’d be begging for your attention. you’re also slightly oblivious and have probably had several people crush on you at once but you’ve ignored them all unintentionally. you need to believe in yourself more and remind yourself that you’re that bitch. you’re capable of amazing things you just need to realise it yourself a little more
BOKUTO KOUTARŌ
-> okay mx mood swings you need to stop acting out over nothing. you’re gorgeous don’t get me wrong but dropping your slice of bread on the floor isn’t the end of the world. get over smaller things quicker and become more aware of your surroundings. you have a really good set of close friends and you’re friendly to everyone around you. you’re very very loved but you need to stop getting caught up over pointless things.
AKAASHI KEIJI
-> you’ve probably been called ‘boring’ before but that’s far from the truth. you make snide comments and you’re witty. you’re one of the most mentally stable people and you don’t get upset over petty argument or fights. you do howver nit pick at situations and get too critical. stop that because you only annoy yourself more and put yourself in a bad mood.
SHINSUKE KITA
-> you scare the shit out of me but in a good way. i’d be scared to talk to you because you’re so perfect? you do tend to come across as unapproachable though but that’s not your fault. smile a little more and don’t be afraid to laugh a little louder. your laugh is so pretty anyway so don’t be shy to let yourself loose a little more
ARAN OJIRO
-> you’re the type of person people think about for weeks after seeing you at the airport you’re that hot. you’re reliable and loved by many. you’ve got a good spirit and you’re mentally balanced. you need to stop overworking yourself though and stop getting too worried for other people in their place. you’ve already got enough on your plate so stop taking other peoples problems when you already have your own.
MIYA ATSUMU
-> you’re a bitch. no i have more to say. you’re misunderstood. you come across as a shitty person but that’s just because you’re passionate and hard at communicating in a way that’s not so blunt. you’re petty and dislikable at first but after a couple of conversations, people find out there’s so much more to you. you’re funny, hot and talented. just remember to work on holding back on the blunt statements a little more.
MIYA OSAMU
-> 2nd best kinda vibes. you ARE the pretty best friend but people always ignore that because you’re kinda overshadowed by others around you. you’re like a diamond in the rough and valuable to those lucky enough to find you and get to know you. don’t put yourself down so much and show others you can be independent and unique because that’s exactly what you are
SUNA RINTARŌ
-> you’re hot and that’s it. you’re probably the type of person to not show up to classes but still manage to pass every exam with ease. you’re almost too cool to approach and people probably think you’re bitching about them when they see you on your phone. what they don’t know is that you’re really looking at pictures of cows that have been washed and blowdried. you probably own a pink princess cowboy hat and your instagram is probably everyone’s pinterest board. just stop slacking off though because you can achieve so much more.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI
-> you’re powerful and elegant. you’re very level headed and go about problems the efficient way. you hate time wasters and don’t let people make you their bitch. you probably have a slight god complex but that’s okay because when you’re as hot as you are, it’s understandable. stop being so uptight and sensitive about things though. be kinder to your mind and let go of the things not worth holding a grudge against.
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general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @tsumue @peteunderoos @tsukkisbean @saturnfarie @dear-kozume @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @dai-tsukki-desu @angrylittleriri @dearestmegumi @kuxredere @warakou @iss6s @lovinnoya @sophiashortcake @wompwomphq @waitforitillwritemywayout @webworld @brokeasshoee @sunasbabie @rowley-with-ackerman @mjoork @trifliz @curiouslilbeast @ineedsomefoodpls @hp-hogwartsexpress
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snellyfish · 3 years
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May I ask..... what is in your post game V3? I dunno how to ask this without sounding weird.
HM!!!!!!!!! GOOD QUESTION;;
I mostly only have braincells for Kiyo and Angie so not a lot of my thoughts are straying from that unfortunately LMAO, I was able to branch off a bit answering this though so thank you for indirectly helping me develop more!!
But I like to think it's the same scenario as the second game where it was all just a simulation. I know what I fantasize about is a VR AU and that "postgame" tends to refer to the survivors but literally none of my favorites survived so reality can be whatever I want: postgame Shinnaga is so canon it's unreal!! I'm sure there's probably a VR fic for them somewhere out there in the world, I wouldn't know because I suck at reading fhdjfk, but I would love to write my own someday HEH
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They'd all wake up one by one as they die and end up all in the same facility where they're taken care of by the Danganronpa team, unable to leave until they’re well again due to the contracts they signed prior to playing-- Meaning Angie wakes up, Tenko wakes up a few hours later, Kiyo another few hours later, etc. Angie jumps back pretty quick from things so she'd be already VERY excited to see Kiyo*  after watching the trial, mostly because Angie like immediately caught onto what his sister really was to him (HINT: CONTROLLING AND AWFUL) and yelling at her screen saying "GOD WILL SMITE YOU ALL FOR PICKING ON THE WEAK" at everyone just calling him some incestuous freak during the trial. Angie does have genuinely incredible intuition (thanks god!) so she looks past the fact he murdered her Scarily Fast. Everyone would definitely mistrust and hate Angie even more as she tries to preach to them afterwards about Kiyo and how they need to forgive him since he’s a victim and God (most important opinion) already forgave him, but no one ever listened to her anyway especially postgame so it’s all in vain 😔
*whom might take a bit to wake up and fully acclimate again because...idk this man was boiled alive that's kinda Fucked I think all the executed would take longer to wake up because they went through more lengthy + traumatic deaths I guess? This just means even more time for Angie to sit on her thoughts about what happened to her+Kiyo yuh yuh
Everyone becomes a mix of their pregame selves and the identities they were given, they'd end up being mediocre/average (sometimes bad) at what their handpicked talent was but a lot of them still keep up doing it until they DO become good again. A very small amount of them try to replicate their killing game outfits and kinda live off the high of being what they once were and accomplished in their fake memories, like Miu and Himiko. (this also makes me think about Irumeno a bit more 👀) Pretty much every single one of them in pregame saw themselves as nothing, being disposable enough to be in a killing game (even if it turns out to be virtual), so the new identities would overpower the mix for the most part since they’re the more intensified and dramaticized personality--IF THAT MAKES ANY SENSE LOL.
--Angie absolutely never stopped her art and has a less intense view on Religion, since garnering more experiences in life she’s just be less intense in general I'd think; more open with her emotions in that she'd actually cry, but still very manic and bubbly and optimistic nonetheless. After getting help (mostly from Kiyo who deals with the same thing), Angie is able to differentiate her thoughts and desires from “God”’s thoughts and desires, YEA she still has a funky little friend in her head. She's not AS pushy especially not with her equally traumatized fellow killing game participants but she still absolutely gets her moments of intensity and assertiveness now and then if she thinks something God is telling her is absolute truth and for the betterment of everyone: she is still Angie afterall, truly believing everyone would be much happier with her God in their lives but having enough self-restraint to know everyone will just push her away further if she tries to help them in that regard. She has her moments of desperation but most everyone’s too far gone from her already.
--Korekiyo is such a complicated one--I do like to think of pregame Kiyo as transfem/nonbinary and that would partially stick into his postgame identity in some way...killing game Kiyo was Just A Dude but after becoming the mix of the two identities he'd be VERY confused, especially with the influence of his (simulated) sister's influence. (genderfluid time? :)) He'd have varying degrees of when his...sister...alter...thing...comes out, or is present in his head in any regard, she'd be gone or slowly disappearing from his mind for months at a time and he'd initially be extremely unstable about it because he feels extremely isolated and lost when he can’t talk to her, but he's got Angie by his side so he becomes significantly less stressed about it over time, learning to cope with it. Eventually he finds himself no longer dependent on sister and...has to learn a SECOND time to not be unhealthily dependent; on Angie this time. (funky little idea I’ve been wanting to draw/write about sometime...hnnrngm) They’re both miracle workers when it comes to each other’s mental health it’s kinda insane. Of course, after realizing that Sister never really existed, he harbors near-immediate guilt for having murdered Angie and Tenko once he’s alone with his thoughts, not being puppeteered by sister, realizing everything he ever did he did for HER and realizing how fucked it all was pretty quickly--he does crave interacting with his victims in a positive and healing light but he’s sort of traumatized by it all to the point he is TERRIFIED when they’re around him at first.
--Tenko ends up EVEN MORE protective and grudgeful after she wakes up, trying to shield everyone and everything from most of the blackened, absolutely makes Kiyo manage to feel like even worse shit when he's got 1 extremely supportive and loving woman he killed and 1 extremely spiteful woman he killed who might legitimately murder him in return if he’s not careful. Tenko never makes amends with Angie and becomes close with Himiko (who's close with Gonta despite Tenko's wishes (she hates him for killing Miu, local woman)), managing to keep Himiko far far away from Angie, not only for "stealing" Himiko in the Student Council but also for the fact Angie's glued to Kiyo's side--making her the second least trustworthy person to Tenko..
--Himiko is very traumatized after the game due to surviving all the way til the end, likely making her (along with Shuichi+Maki) very disillusioned and lost--unable to decipher anything from fiction or reality--it takes a long time for Himiko to really “accept” anything; tried to cling to both Tenko and Angie but ends up just stuck on Tenko, mourning the loss of her friendship with Angie while doing so. Himiko would probably be shoved away from Gonta at first as well, but Tenko felt a lot more confident in Gonta so after a long while of her aggressively trying to teach him manners and keeping an emotional deathgrip on him whenever he wants to interact with Himiko, they’d end up close friends again. Still thinking about Irumeno-- Also with the whole ~~Survivor Delusions~~ thing, I think that helps play into Himiko’s attachment and insistence to keep up her old magician identity, because she has a very hard time trying to tell what’s real n fake ykno, and it takes her a while to realize she doesn’t have her talent anymore; absolutely ending in tearful breakdowns and unending determination to find herself again by forcibly trying to improve and push herself to her limits.
For the most part Kiyo and Angie are outcasted from everyone else, a lot of that being due to Tenko's preaching but...also everyone just doesn't understand what actually happened to Kiyo and they are all deathly worried about Angie, but not enough to get themselves involved; they're scared of Angie too, afterall, not as much as they're scared of Kiyo but ykno-- They think her naivety and determination to “fix him” is going to get her murdered again, every day they’re just counting down the minutes until it happens again. (spoiler alert: it doesn’t)
I could ABSOLUTELY go off more but I really have to end this at some point so fhdsjkfds--
TLDR;; Angie (and God alter) forgive Kiyo almost immediately. Sister alter likes to disappear sometimes making Kiyo sad and unfortunately dependent on Angie. Both Kiyo + Angie help each other heal and recover from their issues. Tenko hates both Kiyo + Angie with a passion and protectively forbids Himiko from seeing either of them. Himiko is close friends with Tenko and Gonta and Maybe More with Miu.
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maira-writes-shit · 3 years
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Salt, saltier, Yahaba and Shirabu
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Haikyuu Yahaba Shigeru and Shirabu Kenjirou friendship
Fluff, mild angst, Yahashira childhood friends
Yahaba and Shirabu met when they were 8.Some may ask: How did that happen? Well this is the story:
Both of them had been dragged to a business dinner by their parents...
Shigeru’s parents were business people. That’s just what they were.Everything they did, they did it for business.
They got married for tax benefits and to combine their companies. Sure they did love each other but that wasn’t the main reason they got married.
They got children for image. They used them to seem closer to the „average family“, to try and seem more trust worthy and kind.
So that’s what he was here for.“And this is our son Shigeru.“,his mother said with a fake smile on her thin lips. She was talking to a small woman with copper hair. Something suddenly moved behind her legs and Yahaba tried to get a glance.
The woman took a step back and a boy with the same copper hair as the woman became visible.
He was a little bit shorter than Shigeru, had chocolate brown eyes and a pale complexion.
“Well this is Kenjirou!“, Shigeru’s mother put out her hand, she had to crouch down a little do to her wearing the heels that her son always wonder how she could even walk in, the boy -Kenjirou- took her hand and nodded to her.
The two women walked away chatting with equally fake smiles and cheerful voices, leaving their sons on their own.
The awkward silence between stretched out for multiple minutes until Kenjirou sighed.
“I’m Kenjirou Shirabu...“
“Well I know that.“, Shigeru whispered looking away.
“Hey jerk! I’m trying to talk to you!“ „Well you're not succeeding!“ „You’re talking to me, right?!“
Shigeru opened his mouth but shut it again.
He was right
The taller pouted.
“Why are you like this?“
“I’m trying to not fuck this up for my parents.“ at that Shigeru looked up at Kenjirou.
„What do you mean?“ „We just moved here and my dad says he needs friends under the other higher ups...“...“I’m Shigeru Yahaba. You’re the first other kid I’ve seen here.“
“Really?“ „Yeah. I only come along for the image.“„Well I guess we will probably have to cross paths a few more times so-“, Kenjirou extended a hand with a sly look on his face „-We should probably get along.“
Start
They were 11.
They had ended up on the same middle school.
Easy to say:The teachers both hated and loved them.
Both were smart and talented people and they knew it. And they abused it.
They didn’t pay attention in class and would always make snarky remarks only loud enough for each other to hear because they knew they could keep up.
Fun
They were 12.
“You know...I think I wanna join the volleyball club.“
Kenjirou looked up from his homework a bit startled.
“Huh?“ „I mean every time we play in gym class I just have so much fun and it makes me feel good! You know?“
Do I know? Yes I do know.
“I feel like I have the control yet at the same time I can play in a team!“
“I want to join too!“ „Really?!“ „Yeah! We can play together!“
Friendship
They were 14.
Sweat was dripping down Shigeru’s face.
24:23 for the other team...it seems useless...
The silver haired boy turns his face to his best friend.
I can’t do it. It’s too much.
Those thoughts wash away as soon as he sees him.
He was determined.
That’s what he admired the most about Kenjirou...he didn’t give up.
Shigeru was weak alone. All it took was a B on a test to send him spiraling but Kenjirou was always there.Kenjirou was his setter and Shigeru was his spiker.
They were feared for being able to know exactly what the other was thinking.
They were a threat.
Shigeru couldn’t do it on his own...but he wasn’t on his own.
Kenjirou was there and he was looking at Shigeru with that look of determination that always made him go though with all the shit they thought of.
They won.
Determination
They were 14.
This wasn’t normal.
He shouldn’t feel like this.
But he did.
Chikara Ennoshita.
The brown haired boy had been his and Shigeru’s friend since the start of middle school. He was smart, determined, kind and he was able to handle the combined salt level of both Shigeru and Kenjirou.
He had been his first real friend after Shigeru.
And now here he was...having a crush on him.
That’s all it was though: a crush. Still...he was a guy...This wasn’t right.
“Kenjirou? You ok?“
The copper haired boy jumped a bit at his best friends voice. He looked up and-“Shigeru I think im gay-“
Why did I say that? I never planned on telling anyone! Let alone Shigeru...what will he think of me now-?
“Same.“
“Wait what?“
“Well I’m not completely gay- I do also like girls...so bi? Maybe even pan or something...I don’t know yet.“
„Wait you aren’t surprised?“ „Shirababe...nothing about you staring at Chikas ass is subtle. Turn the horny down child!“ „I AM OLDER THAN YOU!“
“NO YOURE NOT! WELL AT LEAST NOT MENTALLY!“, Shigeru threw a pillow into Kenjirou‘s face.
The shorter got hit right in the face and let out a dramatic gasp while throwing the pillow right back.
“STOP WITH YOUR MENTAL SHIT, ASSHOLE!“
Acceptance
They were almost 16.
“Wait what?“
“I said I’m going to apply for Shiratorizawa.“
“But-we said we would got to Seijoh together!“
“Well there is still the possibility of me failing the exam because we both know I won’t get a sports scholarship.“
“Oh who are you kidding!? You are going to pass that exam with flying colors!“
“Well thank you.“
„KENJIROU YOU PROMISED!“
“I WAS LIKE 13!“
“YOU SAID- You said you won’t leave me alone...“
“Oh boo hoo! Little baby Yahaba can’t take being alone!“
Yahaba? He had never called me that...
“Well that may have to do with the fact that you always need to show me that your better than me in everything, Shirabu!“They stared each other down.
Sure they had had fights over the years but nothing quite like this.
There was so much to lose.
But also so much to gain.
I can’t do it. It’s too much.
Shigeru walked away.
Fear
They were 16.
Kenjirou had made it to Shiratorizawa.
He looked down at his test results with a grain of salt though.
He had passed with flying colors...just like he had said...
They hadn’t talked since their fight. They had graduated without a word to each other and now they were separated.
Shigeru got his test scores back some time ago, he would go to Seijoh after summer break.
Ennoshita would go to a different school as well.
Kenjirou‘s Heart hurt a bit at That thought as well. Not only was Chikara his only other real friend but Kenjirou also still had his stupid crush on him.
Kenjirou Shirabu was sitting in his room alone.
He was alone.
He had forgotten what that felt like.
Ever since that faithful day 8 years ago Shigeru- no Yahaba- had always been there somehow. Kenjirou had always seen him or texted him in some way and even when they were fighting he would always have Chikara to talk to.
But now both of them were gone.
Empty
They were 16.
Everything reminded them that the other wasn’t there.
It hurt.It hurt worse than when Yahaba got rejected by the girl he liked.
It hurt worse than Shirabu being beaten in his favorite subject.
It hurt more than the punches exchanged when they fought over something so seemingly little now that they forgot what it was.
How do you feel after the person you spent half your life with leaves?
Broken
Lost
Alone
They were 16.
„Yaha-Chan we Are playing a practice match today and I want to put you in.“
The dyed brown haired teen turned around a bit startled.
“But Oikawa-san I’m not even that good! I just started really playing this position! I can’t possibly-“ „Trust yourself more Yaha-chan!“
Yeah as if that’s so easy...Kenjirou was my setter and I was his spiker...I honestly just wanted to try this position but-
“I can see you overthinking Yaha-chan!“, Shigeru’s senpai snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts.
„You are a great setter Yahaba. Don’t forget that.“
The younger looked up from the ground.Instead of the usual sing songy voice of Oikawa those words were said with a kind yet very stern voice.
He cracked a little smile.
Change
They were 16.
Winning.
That was what he did all of this for.
Winning.
So this was being part of a real team, huh?
He only stood on the court for a few minutes but here he was...screaming, laughing and hugging his teammates.
The last time I was this happy I was with Shigeru-
The copper haired boy turned around to the other side of the net.
There he was.
Yahaba Shigeru was crouching over a third year crying on the floor.He went around giving everyone water bottles.
He hadn’t played.
He had sat on the bench observing and filling up water bottles.
Anger rose in Kenjirou. How could they not let him play? There was definitely more than one of the third year spikers that was way worse than Shigeru!
Why won’t they let him play?
Or did he choose to not play?
Did they think they could win against Shiratorizawa and then use him as a secret weapon?
What was up with him?
He was slapped on the back by his senpai, their setter Semi Eita.
One eye contact was all Semi need to check up on him...
One eye contact and he could feel himself falling.
He wanted to tell Shigeru.
Longing
They were 16.
Loss.
That was the worst part about this.
Losing.Shigeru was on his bed looking up at the ceiling, like he and Kenjirou used to do when they told story’s till 2am.
His phone pinged.
Bangsie:
“Heh“, Shigeru smiled. He had forgotten to reset the nickname.
What does he want though? Rub his win under my nose? Tell me how much better than me he is again?
He picked up his phone anyways.
Bangsie: Shigeru we need to talk...same place
Same place.
Shigeru knew what he meant by that.
When his older brother was younger their parents had bought him a little treehouse at the outskirts of the woods not far from the Shirabu residents.
They would go there when Shigeru‘s little brother was being noisy, they wanted to get away or they just didn’t feel safe enough at home.
The Fake brunette sighed and put on his shoes.
Fixing
They were 16.
He came.
They sat in silence.
Until The copper haired boy broke the silence: „I’m sorry.“
„I know I made a promise and I knew what it meant to you but-“„No no I get it! Shiratorizawa fits your needs as a person and for your future more...I was being selfish.“
“But you had all right to be! Your brother left you behind and he was the only one there for you, I did the same!“
“Don’t fucking blame yourself for my problems!“
They stared at each other down for a good minute until they broke and they ended up hugging and crying.
The next hours were spent catching up.
Shigeru learned about Kenjirou’s crush on his upperclassman Semi.
Kenjirou learned about a guy named Kyoutani that absolutely drove Shigeru crazy and now even quit.
He also learned that Shigeru had switched to being a setter.
The night ended like many nights in the treehouse ended: with them curled up in blankets falling asleep on each other.
Home
They were 17.
I need to get better. I need to work harder. I can’t stop-
„Yahaba!“
The ball dropped on the other side of the court and he turned around to see his spiky haired senpai Iwaizumi.
“You are overworking yourself, Yahaba...“ „Oh I’m sorry I didn’t-“ „Oh no you know exactly what you’re doing! I already have one of you dumbasses!“, he looked at Oikawa, standing in the door talking to a few fan girls.
“Don’t freak out too much, ok?“, he sounded concerned...
“I’ll try, Iwaizumi-san!“
Shigeru hurried out of the locker room.
He was late to his and Kenjirou’s weekly movie night!
While he was mentally crossing all the things in his bag off a list as to not forget what to bring the boy ran into someone...and crashed to the ground.
“Hey watch were your going!“ the guy he bumped into only gave a little growl as answer.Kyoutani.
Of course it was Kyoutani.
“You’re good...“ came a little murmur from besides him where Kyoutani had apparently set off into the same way as him home.
Shigeru raised an eyebrow.
“You’re a good Player...“ Shigeru shoot around at that.
“Wh-what? You t-think I’m a g-good player?“
“I mean yeah...“Shigeru could feel a flush creep up his cheeks.
Wait what? Im supposed to hate him! He quit the team! But...
Diffrents
They were 17.
“This arm has to be a bit higher.“
Kenjirou was maybe having a so called gay panic.
Semi was too close. He was also correcting his form and touching him in all these places- Kenjirou couldn’t do this.
He threw the ball into the air, jumped and smashed that ball to the ground.
“Not so bad-Not so bad! But there is still some things you need to work on.“
“Well I wanna see you do a jump serve.“, he whispered.“As you wish, Shirabu my highness.“ The older said with a little bow before he got up to serve.
Kenjirou refuses to admit that his heart danced a little cha cha cha when Semi said his name.
The ash blond threw the ball up into the air, the perfect hight, he took two large steps and leaped into the air and finally his hand made contact with he ball and hit the ground with a beautiful thudh.
Kenjirou stood in awe for a few minutes before he excused himself to the bathroom.
Beauty
They were 17.
The ball dropped.
They lost.
Again.
Shiritorizawa won.
Again.
Again
They were 17.
They were sitting in the treehouse again.
„You guys played really well you know...“The copper haired boy looked over at his best friend and found the tear rolling down his face.
Neither one of them have ever been good at putting their feelings into words so all Kenjirou did was hold him.
Hold him while he crys.
Emotions
They were 17.
Karasuno.
Every point was a battle for power.
Yahaba got to play again...
He got to feel the ball in his hands again...
He made points!
He let the ball drop...This was his fault.
He thought he could be better, he thought he could finally face off against Kenjirou but no.
He was still weak.That’s all he was.
Weak
They were 17.
“This will be our first practice match with you as captain Shirabu.“, Kenjirou’s Coach looked at him. „You can do it.“
The new captain smiled and walked behind his team again.
“Hello and welcome at Seijoh!“ a familiar voice said. Kenjirou smiled.
“It’s a pleasure to win agains you.“
“Hahaha win? Yeah sure! We will stomp you to dust, Shirabu.“
“Game on, Yahaba.“
“Well what do we have here?, a singsongy voice said from behind Shigeru.
Oikawa Tooru
To be continued
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vikingpoteto · 4 years
Text
middle children must unionize
read on ao3 ______________________
my contributior for @batfam-big-bang
Summary: Jason realizes no one is taking care of Tim - not even Tim himself. He decides to do something about it.
Notes: I can't stress enough how grateful I am for joining this event. First of all, stan the mods. Stan my beta reader team, @timmydrakewings, @stormleviosa and @sun-lit-roses. Stan my artist team @houser-of-stories, @reese-haleth and @anicomicqueen To all of these amazing talented people that, for whatever reason chose to help me with this story, I can't stress enough how grateful I am. ________________________
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Jason doesn’t keep in touch with the Bats after Bruce’s gone.
Batwoman only trusts him as far as she can throw him. Dick is not easy to avoid, but Jason keeps their contact to a minimum nonetheless. Ninja girl doesn’t speak with him. Replacement… Well. Jason does have a weird professional relationship with the kid. As professional as you can get with someone you tried to kill. Barbara will probably never forgive him for making Dick cry so many times. Brat girl will probably never forgive him for trying to kill Replacement. The other one, whatever his name is, is low-key/high-key terrified of Jason. As for the gremlin... Well, he’s like 10? 11? Jason doesn’t hang out with children, not even assassin ones.
So yeah. Not on friendly terms with anyone in the Wayne family.
However he is an instigator at heart and, while whatever they’re doing in the Batcave is none of his business, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t finish one of his rare visits by stirring things up a bit.
Dick usually makes sure he doesn’t do anything too outrageous, but a distraction comes in the form of Gremlin, who shows up demanding to know why Dick is late for their training session or whatever. The brat sends Jason a scathing look but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge him. Dick only smiles patiently and waves Jason goodbye, leaving Replacement unsupervised. Before heading out, Jason approaches Replacement, who’s sitting by the batcomputer.
“So,” he starts. Jason notices when the kid flinches a little. Your regular guy wouldn’t, but Jason was once a bat too. “How does it feel to be replaced, Replacement?”
Replacement’s shoulders go stiff for half a second.
When he turns to face Jason, however, his expression is empty.
“Predictable,” he says.
Jason quirks an eyebrow up. “Meaning?”
“I was only a Robin because I was, how can I put this, a coworker?” Replacement turns his eyes back to the computer and starts typing. “It was a no-strings-attached sort of deal. Bound to end at some point.”
That’s… new.
“You’re legally adopted into the Wayne family,” Jason hears himself reminding him.
“Yeah, ain’t that a pickle,” Replacement laughs. “Can you guess who forced Bruce to do that? My money was on Dick, but now I think it was probably Babs or Alfred.”
Jason stares, unsure what to make of that. Before he decides, the kid stands up.
"I have always been a patch job, so being dismissed is to be expected. I'm just overstaying my welcome at this point."
“You can get dismissed? I thought this was an until-your-untimely-death sort of gig.”
That was not how Jason expected this conversation to go, like, at all. He had never seen Replacement looking so… worn out? Lifeless?
“I don’t know, man,” Tim frowns as though he made himself confused. “God, I’m sleepy. See you around, I guess.”
And Jason watches him leave the cave with his shoulders hunched and an empty stare. Dick and Gremlin are so preoccupied with their sparring session that they don’t seem to notice. Jason sticks around for a few more seconds, stunned, before he realizes what he’s doing. He goes home.
Jason can’t stop thinking about what the kid said.
It’s not that he didn’t think something of the sorts, especially when he was angriest at Bruce. He had thought about how Batman trained his children to be soldiers and, like soldiers, they could be easily replaced. After all, what was one more problem child joining their broken family? What’s another deadly brat being thrown at some creeps wearing literal clown costumes?
He did think of them as Bruce’s kids though.
Not that Batman had any expertise in healthy parenting techniques, but Jason didn’t have any healthy son experiences to compare so it didn’t matter much. They were Batkids for the better and mostly for the worse, and if something happened to them, well, the crusade must go on.
He never thought of Robin as someone that could be sent home out of the blue, like your average GC Pig. A disgrace to the family? Sure. See, kids, we don’t talk about cousin Jason. He got himself killed and came back all crooked. That’s what happens if you kill murderers or forget to brush your teeth. Still, the idea of being dismissed for no reason never occurred to Jason. It was absurd, because, as far as Jason knew, his replacement was the perfect little soldier. Why would he walk away?
Dick fought with Bruce. Jason… well. You know. Brat girl had to move cities or whatever? Or she died, but got better? Jason doesn’t really know anything about the chick. Either way, he knows she became Batgirl soon after. Tim, however, had nothing stopping him from staying masked. Why would Replacement talk about being Robin as if it was a summer job?
Does that mean that the wimpy kid Jason has been bullying was really that cold and detached?
He thinks about it until his head hurts and he starts remembering times with Bruce and Dick and Alfred and suddenly he doesn’t want to think about it anymore.
It’s a good thing Jason is good at compartmentalizing, because that’s what he does. He pushes thoughts of Batman and Robin to the depths of his mind and forgets about it.
He doesn’t find out until weeks later.
He’s not visiting the manor because he wants to. It’s just that there is this stupid encrypted information he needs for a case and he isn’t exactly tech savvy. He doesn’t think Barbara would do him a solid - she’s still ignoring him for… whatever. He doesn’t even know. Probably something about hurting Dick’s pwecious feewings or eating the last cookie Alfred made. Either way, Jason first tries contacting Replacement directly. Only when the kid doesn’t pick up he forces himself to go to the cult headquarters.
He needs that data, dammit, and whoever called programming logic, was out of their damn mind. If true, execute commands 1, 2 and IV, it said. If what was true? Jason read and read and still didn’t get what it was referring to. And why would someone name the commands regular numbers then just… throw a fucking roman number? Just to spice things up? Whoever wrote that damn code should get a bullet in the foot.
“Jay!” Dick grins at him, although he looks unamused by the fact that Jason is coming in through a window on the second floor. “You do remember that we have a door, don’t you?”
“I like to keep ‘em guessing,” Jason says. “Which room is the kid’s? I have a job for him.”
Dick tilts his head to the side, confused. “Damian is at school?”
And then there’s that. A lot to unpack. First, Jason is deeply offended that Dick thinks he would ever go there after Gremlin, the child that likes to criticize Jason's  skills despite the fact that a) Jason was trained by Damian's father and then b)Jason was trained by Damian's mother. Second, Damian Wayne. Going to Gotham Academy. Does he wear the uniform? Does he have homework or does he threaten the teachers with a sword until they quit? Did anyone explain to him the concept of playing tag before he murders a bunch of 9 year olds? Jason has so many questions. If only he had time.
“I said the kid . The human one, not the imp.”
“Oh.” Dick seems taken aback. “Oh, he... Jason, Tim isn’t in Gotham. You didn’t know?”
Jason groans. “Are you kidding me? You annoyed him into leaving the planet with his alien friends again, didn’t you?”
“No, he… I actually don’t know where he is now.”
Jason blinks in surprise. So Dick didn’t pick Bruce’s habit of microchipping his kids?
“What do you mean you don’t know? How do you lose a whole Robin? The uniform is basically a traffic cone.”
Dick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Jason had seen Bruce do just that so many times he forgets for a moment whatever stupid joke he was about to make. When did his older brother become the dad?
“He left a while ago. He barely spent any time here at the manor after I gave Robin to Damian, so…”
Jason freezes. After I gave Robin to Damian, he says. Being dismissed is to be expected, the kid said weeks ago.
“Dick. What the fuck did you do?”
Dick looks surprised at the raw anger in Jason’s voice, even though he shouldn’t fucking be. Jason remembers the distant voice on that day. He did think that was oddly cold for Replacement, even if he was a calculating nerd. Except that wasn’t him being cold. That was him lying to himself.
Jason would know. He spent most of his childhood telling himself he didn’t need a loving father. A good part of his teenage years telling everyone that would hear that he didn’t care at all that Bruce kept holding him to the standards of the perfect son that went away. It’s a lot easier to pretend you didn’t care because it makes it hurt less when things are taken away. Jason was a fucking pro at that technique, so much he wonders how the hell he didn’t notice earlier.
“I did what I had to do,” Dick says, defensively. The way he does when he’s second guessing himself, but still in denial about it. “Tim’s a hero of his own right and he’s capable enough that…”
“That you fucking fired him?” Jason barks.
“Damian needs Robin, Jason! He’s just so lost and being Robin gave him a sense of purpose, allowed him to actually be a child.”
“No shit Gremlin is a child! What about Replacement? He’s, what, 15?”
“He’s 17, how do you not know your own brother’s age?”
“Whatever! He’s just a teen and you basically just told him to fuck off.”
Dick sighs. “Look, I tried to help Tim. Tim’s friends tried to help Tim. But he’s a mature person and he wanted some time for himself.”
Ain’t that a familiar song. A good dose of leave me the fuck alone while still wearing a goddamn bat on his chest and making sure to make enough noise to draw attention. He doesn’t like how close it hits to home, how Dick, who’s supposed to be the best of them, ends up being just as shit as recognizing emotions as any other Bat. Jason laughs without any humor.
Incensed, Dick’s jaw sets in challenge as he adds: “I trust Tim and I respected his choice to leave on his own mission, because he knows what’s right for him.”
“Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night,” Jason says. “You’re right. Give the demon what he needs. Replacement is a grown ass adult because you respect him so much .”
“Jason, I didn’t say that…”
“He was never a kid here, Dick, even I know that. You all keep throwing shit at him, messes for him to fix ‘cause it’s fine, it’s little Timmy, he’s so fucking capable, he can take it. Have you ever considered that he was always an adult because you all are the fucking children?”
I have always been a patch job sounds awfully similar to I’m here because he got lonely after you left.
But apparently Dick is done exercising his brotherly patience and Jason hit a nerve.
“What do you know about him? You never bothered to talk to him, to spend time with him. You don’t know shit about Tim.”
Jason scoffs. Dick’s face grows unevenly red.
“You don’t, Jason! You were busy trying to kill him. Remember that bonding experience? Must have been fun for him. Having the hero he grew up admiring trying to murder him?”
Jason throws the first punch. Dick easily dodges, the motherfucker, the damn superior Robin.
Screw it, Jason thinks as they start yet another classic Robin Brawl that would only end when Ninja Girl mysteriously dropped from the ceiling and kicked both of their asses.
Jason doesn’t hear from the cave for a while. His phone gets a weird virus, so he guesses Oracle heard he pushed Dick down the stairs. He just tosses the whole thing away and decides that screw his stupid case with the weird code, screw detective work. The biggest detectives aren’t around anymore. He'll just call Kory and convince her to help torch the place up and hopefully the new Batman and Robin will have to deal with the aftermath.
The next time Jason hears from his brothers, it’s a frantic call from Dick that makes Jason’s blood turn into ice: freaking Ra’s Al Ghul is in Gotham doing his whole Head of the Demon thing. He grabs his bike and he’s still on the comms with Dick as he heads to the manor because Alfred is in there.
“What did Gremlin do?” he asks.
“Nothing,” Dick answers and Jason can barely hear him over the wind. He’s probably swinging around Gotham as he speaks. “It was Tim. Tim’s back and Ra’s is after him and everyone he cares about.”
Fuck. This is the kid Dick trusted to go out alone on a self-discovery journey or whatever. Jason wonders what the hell he had been up to get that much unwanted attention.
In the end, everything works out, kind of. No one on their side dies, but Tim does get thrown out of a window. Of a very, very, veeery tall building. Jason still thinks he got off too easy. As smart as he is, Tim shouldn’t have survived a run in with Ra’s.
Jason is curious enough about it to stay in the cave after the fact. He and Dick sit near Tim’s bed while Leslie works her magic. Dick doesn’t take his eyes from his little brother’s pale face for even a second.
“We almost lost him,” he whispers at some point. “Again, we… I almost lost him.”
“But you didn’t,” Jason says, voice flat. “You saved him.”
Dick bites his lower lip hard enough to break the skin. Jason punches his shoulder to snap him out of it.
“Jay, about last time…”
“Ugh, don’t apologize, you freak. Why can’t you just bottle up your emotions and pretend nothing happened like the rest of this stupid family?”
That makes Dick give him a weak smile. If not for the bottling up part, for the part in which Jason admits they’re a family.
“You were… well, not right. I still think Tim shouldn’t be treated like a sidekick anymore,” Dick continues, despite Jason’s disgusted noises. “But he shouldn’t be left alone either. No one in this family should.”
Jason pretends to be gagging long enough that Dick gives up on trying to be a sensible adult and returns to silently watching over his brother.
After that, it’s a matter of stalling and by stalling he ends up watching the other Bats. He finds from Alfred that Ninja Girl isn’t looming over Tim’s bed because she’s in Hong Kong. Brat girl comes and goes the whole night and Jason doesn’t understand why she can’t simply sit down and wait as a pile of nerves like Dick is doing. At some point, she reads the morning newspaper and starts making so much fuss the one Jason doesn’t know the name - Dave? Dylan? - takes her upstairs to calm her down. Damian is nowhere to be found
In the end, Jason manages to be there when Replacement wakes up. Everyone is busy celebrating, too elated that Replacement is fine, so much they forget Jason is still lurking around. No one sees when his face goes pale and he feels like he’s going to puke.
“How did you know I was going to catch you?” Dick asks.
Tim gives him a tired smile. “You’re my brother, Dick. I knew you’d save me.”
Fuck.
Fuck. It’s like looking into a goddamn mirror, except Tim is so much better at this than Jason ever was. So much that he might even be fooling himself.
But he can’t fool Jason. Dick wants to believe in the best of them, he wants them all to be sane and safe and happy - as much as a Bat can be, at least - but Jason is more of a realist. He knows no one can plan that far ahead. He knows Tim went to a meeting with the Head of the Demon fully aware that he would most likely be carried out in a coffin. Considering Dick’s misstep from a couple months earlier and the fact that Tim had already assigned him and Damian a task, Batman was the last person Tim was expecting to show up.
Of course Dick would save him, any of them. Despite his issues with Bruce, Jason had his hero worship towards his brother restored pretty fast. Dick, the golden boy, the perfect son, loved him no matter what and Jason loved him back. Knew now that Dick had love enough to go around for all of them - all of them. But did Tim know that?
Tim finished his little mission, wrapped it all pretty with a bow, making sure no one kicked the bucket. Except for himself. Timothy Drake-Wayne was the contingency plan for Batman’s contingency plan, but he didn’t care enough to make a plan for himself.  
Bruce is gone. Dick is painfully blind. The Drakes are dead. Alfred has his hands full. The Behemoths or the Little League, or whatever the hell the super kids call themselves now, were just that. Kids. Jason curses to himself, because, if no one else will watch out for Replacement, it’s none of his fucking business.
It’s not.
However…
Jason doesn’t know how to put his not-plan in action. He can’t exactly walk up to Tim and say hey, I think we’re not so different, you and I, so I’m worried for your safety. I know I tried to kill you, but that like... two years ago, get over it. Let’s be friends.
Before he figures it out, he hears that Bruce is back. The real Bruce.
He doesn’t know how to feel about it, so he decides to put some distance between him and the family one more time as he takes some weeks to process. He goes out of town to hang out with his friends. He is done with Gotham bullshit for a while.
Unfortunately, Jason finds himself facing his worst enemy: the damn encrypted data.
He hates that dealers now do their thing through the internet. Who the fuck buys marijuana online? Where is the poetry in that? The class of being friends with the sketchy guy that lives around the corner and hangs out with you while you smoke? If they’re gonna sell oregano online to rich white kids, fine, but they’re selling heavy stuff to people that live in his territory and there is a thing bigger than just drugs, if Jason’s hunch is right. He could confirm it by cracking the numbers he stole from their stupidly unguarded computers.
Except the encryption is too complicated for him to access the files.
Well, isn’t that the perfect excuse to take a visit to the kid’s apartment.
Because that is the situation right now. The kid is emancipated, controlling Wayne Enterprises and living by his damn self. There is so much to unpack that Jason wants to throw away the whole suitcase.
He should probably do just that, or at least that’s what he thinks when he climbs to Tim’s balcony (in his head, he hears Dick’s voice going what do you hate about front doors, man?) and he is immediately pushed to the ground.
He is wearing his helmet, sure, but it doesn’t make it less painful when someone fucking stomps on his head, forcing his face against the floor.
“Fuck,” is all Jason thinks of saying.
He then kicks his assailant in the shin and is satisfied when they tumble backwards. Unfortunately for him, they - she - doesn’t fall over the railing, she just stays away long enough to give him time to stand.
A bald girl wearing a distasteful crop top glares daggers at him. She is already back on her fighting stance - one that looks way too familiar for Jason’s taste - ready to strike. And strike she does.
Her movements are similar to Jason’s - fast, strong, unpredictable, unfair - but she has the advantage of being more slender and having more freedom of movement in the small space. All Jason can do is defend himself and not get tossed over the edge. Who the fuck is this girl? Why is she attacking him? Doesn’t she know he is the freaking Red Hood? He just wanted the damn-
“What on Earth are you guys doing on my balcony?”
The girl freezes. Jason does not. He lands a punch straight on her nose and she falls backwards, her mouth opening in pain even if no sound comes out.
“What the hell, Hood!”
Tim rushes to the girl’s side.
“What the hell Hood?” Jason parrots, indignant. “I just got here and she attacked me!”
Tim frowns and turns to the girl. “Is that true?”
Instead of answering, the girl holds her bloody nose and glares at him. She uses her free hand to show Tim four fingers. Tim sighs.
“I know it’s the fourth time you’ve had your nose broken,” Tim gives her a wry smile. “But the three other times you had it coming. And maybe even this time. Why did you attack Red Hood?”
She makes the gesture of someone walking with two fingers then points at Tim’s balcony door. Jason doesn’t know a lot of ASL, but those don’t seem to be the same signs Cassandra uses.
“She attacked me because she thought I was trying to break in?” He asks. “You have a bodyguard now?”
Tim stands and holds out his hand to the girl. She begrudgingly takes it and lets him pull her to her feet. “Why don’t we all go inside before someone notices the Red Hood on my balcony?”
Jason grumbles in annoyance but does make his way in. Tim is right behind him and Jason can’t help but think he’s acting as a shield in case the girl wants revenge for her nose.
“Come here, Pru, I’ll get something cold for your nose.”
Jason takes a look around. As they cross the living room, he notices it looks like a shiny rich person apartment you’d see in a magazine. Jason wasn’t sure what he expected of Tim’s new crib, and he knows the kid just moved in, but the fact that the place looks like a hospital’s reception makes him feel some sort of way.
Fortunately, the kitchen is a bit better. Not much, but it’s something. There are papers spread across the table, dirty glasses in the sink, a mug full of black steaming tea, Tim’s laptop open on top of a pile of books, and there are pictures on the fridge. Jason remembers vaguely Dick mentioning that one of the kids had a thing for photography and another liked drawing. He has to assume Tim is the photographer as he takes a good look at them: one of Brat girl’s grinning face with a big heart magnet, one of Tim and Cassandra sharing the same reading chair, one of Bruce in one of those fancy sweaters he used to wear at home, one of Dick and Cassandra doing handstands, one of a red head kid, behind him Tim, a muscular girl and an even more muscular guy. Jason doesn’t need to be a detective to figure those, even without the uniforms, are Impulse, Wonder Girl and Superboy.
“So,” Tim starts. He hands the girl a pack of frozen peas and shrugs at her dirty look. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Without ceremony, the girl takes a seat by the table and tries to steal a glance at Tim’s laptop. He casually closes it and smiles at her. She scoffs.
“First, you explain the bodyguard,” Jason says, gesturing to the girl.
“Right. Where are my manners? Pru, this is Red Hood. Hood, this is Prudence.”
He doesn’t turn to her so she can read his lips or use gestures to speak, so Jason figures she isn’t deaf, only mute. Maybe it’s something like Cassandra?
“Really? Prudence? That’s ironic. ”
She shows Jason her middle finger. Definitely not deaf then.
Unlike Prudence, Jason doesn’t make himself at home. When he crosses his arms and doesn’t say anything for a minute more, Tim reads his silence correctly and adds, “We’re working together for a while and there are a lot of people that want us dead, so you’ll have to forgive her. She saw a suspicious guy trying to get into my place and she assumed the worst.”
Jason quirks an eyebrow. Tim can’t see his expression behind the helmet, but he sighs nonetheless.
“Come on. She couldn’t know I sometimes work with the Red Hood too.”
I sometimes work with. Ouch. Jason supposes that’s fair, though. Tim hasn’t exactly been informed of Jason’s newfound empathy or his protective streak.
“How did you know where I live, by the way?” Tim asks.
“Alfred told me you moved,” Jason says. “I got your address from Cassandra.”
Tim’s brows disappear under his messy fringe. “Really?”
Jason nods. “Took a lot of convincing before she believed I didn’t want to kill you in your sleep.”
At that, Tim snorts. He’s still grinning when he asks, “What did you want it for then?”
“Tech support,” he says as he fishes a small flash drive from his pocket. “I was hoping you could crack some files for me.”
Tim takes it and nods. “I’ll check it out. I’ll send the results to you as soon as I have them. Anything else?”
Again… ouch. Apparently imprudent girl is welcome to kick back and hang out, but Jason is just a fellow associate that came to hand in an assignment and promptly piss off.
Then Jason realizes that that was exactly what their relationship was like before Tim went around the world to fight Ra’s al Ghul. Damn.
Well. It’s not like he can take off his helmet and stick around when there is a stranger in there, especially when Tim carefully introduced him as the Red Hood instead of good ol’ Jason Todd. He just wanted to check on the kid and he did. No need to get all clingy. That’s Dick’s thing, not his.
It isn’t until much later that Jason realizes how pointless the visit was. He wanted to see if the kid was okay. He suspected he wasn’t, but it wasn’t like he had any idea of what to do about it.
Lucky for him, Tim looked a lot better than last time. Less dead eyed, more like he has some sort of purpose. The fact that Dick is included in his little photo collection must mean they made amends. Whether it was because Jason’s whooping Dick’s ass or in spite of it he’ll never know. Based on what he knows about Tim, the kid might have just worked everything out by himself and forgiven Dick on his own terms.
Despite his decision to take care of Tim from then on, Jason is definitely not great at it. He doesn't think he lost the rights to admonish Dick for not talking to his brother. The fact is Jason isn't great with words. He wants to help Tim through actions.
Still the question remains: how?
(And Tim emails him the files he needed 8 hours later and Jason worries that the kid didn’t sleep, which… great. This is just great.)
Less than two nights later, someone gets into Jason's frequency. He's about to head out for patrol when a creaking sound inside his helmet precedes a familiar voice slightly twisted by static.
"Red Hood, this is Red Robin. Do you copy?"
Right. He goes by Red Robin now.
"What you want, rep… kid?" Jason inwardly winces at his misstep.
There is a moment of confused silence before Tim mercifully decides not to ask what that was. "I'm pursuing a lead in your territory."
Jason hums. "What's it? I'll handle it."
"No!" Tim says too fast. "I mean… it's my case. I just thought you could take the night off? Please?"
This is supposed to be the smart Robin, right? He does know that Jason isn’t a complete moron, right?
“What’s in it for me?” Jason asks.
If this was Damian, he’d get a colorful death threat. If this was Dick, a winded speech on how brothers are supposed to have each other’s backs and he's just asking for a tiny favor, Jason, don’t make me make my ex-girlfriend hack into your phone and block Netflix again. Tim, however, knows that everything has a price and has an answer ready.
“You owe me for those files I decoded for you.”
Straight to the point. No bullshit. Jason is starting to really like this kid.
“Fair enough. You go follow your lead and I won’t murder you for being in my territory.”
“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Hood.”
Jason didn’t say anything about taking the night off, though.
Jason knows that, if he was working alone, Tim wouldn’t ask for permission. He would let himself in and out of Jason's territory assuming Jason wouldn’t even notice - he’d done it before as Robin, and Jason did notice but pretended not to. He can’t track Red Robin as easily, but the fact that he doesn’t want Red Hood around means there is something or someone he can’t control tagging along… and who’s the one person even Tim Drake can never control?
“Brat girl,” Jason mutters to himself, a cocky grin spreading on his face. One of his informants just confirmed he saw Batgirl driving whatever the fuck that is that capsule vehicle into an empty building just south of Jason’s place.
Oracle is probably out of town again, otherwise she wouldn’t allow her precious not-daughter to be messing around with Tim in Jason’s territory. But then, if most of the rumors are correct, even Barbara can’t quite control the new Batgirl.
He wonders what the duo are up to as he lets himself into the abandoned place through a hole in the ceiling. Red Hood walks on the rafters in the dark until he can hear familiar voices. He stops on his tracks when he notices that Red Robin and Batgirl aren’t alone. Wonder Girl and Impulse stick out like bright red sore thumbs against Gotham’s darkness.
Red Hood hears enough to know they’re planning on saving someone - one of Impulse’s friends? - from a local group connected to Black Mask. Their plan is solid, but it’s hardly a task herculean enough to warrant the presence of a speedster and an amazon. Red Robin makes it sound like it’s absolutely necessary nonetheless, assigning each of them a role that fits their powers and going over every little detail. It’s the first time Hood sees the kid in a position of leadership and he thinks it suits him. He seems extremely at ease.
Actually… that’s not quite it. He’s not as wary of the world as he is when he’s with the Batfamily. Not Batman’s perfect mini-detective, not Nightwing’s model little brother, not WE CEO. He’s still very much a hero, a Robin, but it’s possible to see he’s seventeen under the cowl. Even his posture changes, his shoulders relax and he allows himself to be… God, himself. That must be the first time Jason sees Tim completely in his element, no tension, no (metaphorical) masks.
Real Red Robin stays close to his friends. Very close. Hell, Impulse is almost sitting on his lap, his arm firmly wrapped around Red Robin’s waist as he points at some sort of map his wrist pad is showing. Batgirl is clinging to his other side, her chin resting on his shoulder using the excuse to see better what he’s showing. Hadn’t those two broken up?
Then Red Robin says something so softly not even Hood picks up. The other three teens get tense. Impulse nods and disappears in a gust of wind as his friends wait in silence.
Half a second later, something hits Hood’s back at a very alarming speed because of course Red Robin noticed someone listening and sent his speedster friend to get him. He curses while he falls, barely managing to roll fast enough to avoid serious knee damage when he lands.
“Jason!” Red Robin whines not unlike an embarrassed child crying out mom, not in front of my friends!
“Maybe check who’s spying on you before sending a child bullet careening into their back, will ya?” Jason complains.
Wonder Girl frowns. “Is that…”
“The Red Hood,” Batgirl confirms in a flat voice. “Yup.”
“Isn’t he a criminal?” Impulse asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.
A facepalming Red Robin groans. “He doesn’t do crime anymore.” Under Batgirl’s skeptical glare, he corrects, “He doesn’t do bad crimes anymore. What are you doing here, Hood? You said you were taking the night off!”
“I said I wouldn’t shoot you for being in my territory,” Hood corrects. “But I didn’t say anything about your super friends, because I didn’t think you’d be breaking so many rules in so little time. Really? Bringing metas to Gotham?”
Red Robin simply shrugs. “What Batman can’t see doesn’t hurt him.”
Batgirl snickers and Hood grins a little under his helmet.
“Little Timmy,” he gasps, resting his hand on his chest in mock shock.
“Shut up, why are you here?”
“What, you can’t tell me there is a case and expect me not to follow up.”
The other three kids look from Red Hood to Red Robin. It’s obvious that whatever Tim’s verdict is, they’re going to accept it. Even Stephanie. And she knows Jason (sort of).
“Fine,” Red Robin groans. “But no shooting anyone.”
“No promises.”
Wonder Girl and Impulse are obviously wondering whether they’re joking or not. Knowing they’re completely serious, Batgirl makes a face and pokes Red Robin’s cheek. He frowns at her and the two of them seem to have a conversation consisting of weird mouths and head shakes for a moment. Jason would know. He and Dick used to do that all the time. Finally, whatever face Red Robin is making convinces her and she lets out a defeated sigh.
“Well then, ladies,” Batgirl deadpans, “let’s get this bread.”
Despite Dick’s best efforts, Jason never quite fit in with the Titans. With Tim and Stephanie, however, he can work.
Breaking into one of Black Mask’s hideouts is a piece of cake, if not outright fun. He has to hand it to Stephanie. She is not as cunning as Barbara or as deadly as Cassandra, but the girl can blow up a marijuana deposit like no one else.
Sure, the smoke makes them at least 30% high—all of them except Impulse, whose metabolism won’t let him get intoxicated, to which… Just R.I.P. you funky little man, Jason really feels for him.
Even with the little diversion, there were still plenty of crooks to fight. Wonder Girl takes care of most of them on her own— amazons, man —and soon enough Impulse comes running, carrying a dark-skinned boy wearing power-dampening cuffs who keeps yelling at them in Spanish. At that, Red Robin announces they’re retreating.
Tim looks a lot more comfortable with his peers than he is with the Bats. Part of Jason wonders if he could’ve been like that. If he would have ended up differently if he had actually stayed with the Titans and made friends like Tim had. He tells himself not to go down that path, because he is who he is, he certainly doesn’t make friends in that teen sitcom way and you can’t change the past.
He is genuinely glad that Tim has those friends, though. He’s glad that he can feel that way despite the hint of jealousy.
As they leave a ruined hideout behind, Wonder Girl and Impulse are drowning Red Robin in hugs and cheering so loud one would forget they’re still in Gotham. Their friend laughs with them even with the stress of being so rambunctiously rescued. Batgirl slaps her arm around Hood’s shoulder and admires the Titans being loud as if congratulating themselves on the job done.
If all of them— all of them—are still smiling themselves silly as they leave, it’s only 50% because of the marijuana.
Jason quickly learns that Tim doesn’t like owing people. When Jason asked Tim to crack some encrypted documents, he just needed the damn files. He didn’t expect the kid to show up to tear down the place when Jason decided he had enough reason to dismantle the operation.
“What, you can’t tell me there is a case and expect me not to follow up,” Red Robin quips as he nudges a goon with his foot. The man groans, but doesn’t get up. Seemingly satisfied, Red Robin crouches down and starts cuffing the man to another by his side.
“Remind me to never ask for your help again,” Red Hood says.
Red Robin glowers. “I saved your ass from getting stabbed about three times.”
“I shot the kneecaps of four guys trying to murder you, so don’t expect me to thank you.”
They hear sirens. Red Robin stands. “Well, guess our job here is done.”
Hood nods. It’s been a while since he fought side by side with a fellow Bat, just him and another Robin and... it was nice. Roy and Kori are great partners and all, but they don’t have the same training a Robin does. They don’t get the specific maneuvers and the subtle secret signs. The fact that it had been so fun fighting side by side with Red Robin makes Jason feel like his not-plan of taking care of the kid was finally going somewhere.
Then Red Robin stretches his arm to grapple his way out of there and gasps.
“Red?”
“Uh…” He is now pressing his hand to his side.
“Is… is that blood?”
“Uhhhh…”
“Did you get stabbed and didn’t notice, you freaking idiot?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groans, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes over the cowl. “Why me?”
Red Hood sighs. “Relax, kid, it doesn’t look that deep.”
“I’m gonna have to call Batman,” Red Robin whines. “A’s gonna kill me.”
“Over a tiny stab wound? Don’t be a pussy, I’m sure you can stitch that yourself.”
“The stitches aren’t the problem, it’s just the medicine…” Red Robin says, making vague hand gestures. “I have no spleen.”
And then there’s that.
“I’m sorry. You what?”
Red Robin pulls a guilty face visible even under the cowl. Jason wouldn’t blame Alfred for killing him. He has no spleen and he just… decided it was a good idea to bring a staff to a gunfight at one of the grimiest places of Gotham.
Tim Drake-Wayne, everyone, smartest Robin to date.
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Jason, however, decides not to kill Tim for his stupidity. He recognizes that particular frown. It’s the I-messed-up-and-I-don’t-want-dad-to-find-out face.
The GCPD sirens are getting closer.
“I’ve got a big collection of antibiotics back at one of my safehouses,” he mentions casually. “I could patch you up so A doesn’t have to.”
Tim’s wide eyes are evident. Jason wonders if this is him being able to read the kid too well or if Tim straight up sucks at hiding his emotions. It’s probably a bit of both.  
“You know. As thanks for helping me.”
“I thought you wouldn’t thank me.”
“Don’t push it, kid.”
By now, they can see the red and blue police lights.
“Lead the way.”
He rolls his eyes and drags the kid to his bike. He really hopes the pigs didn’t see them, because it’s bad enough that a hero showed up to Red Hood’s bust, he doesn’t need any cops thinking that he kidnapped Red Robin or any shit like that.
“Are we going to the one behind the new theater or the one around crime alley?” Tim casually asks.
Jason freezes halfway through mounting his bike. “How the fuck do you know about those?”
“I know the location of all of your safehouses,” Tim admits.
“Batman knows about my safehouses?”
Tim quirks an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, I’m not Batman.”
...oh.
That’s… nice. Kind of. A confirmation that he can trust the kid to have his back.
“Smug nerd,” Jason mumbles.
Tim only chuckles in response. They set off to Jason’s place.
The rest of the night is peaceful. At least for a Bat’s standards. Jason helps Tim disinfect his wound and stitch it closed while Tim raids Jason’s medicine stash until he finds the ones he needs. Jason promises to hook him up with his supplier so he doesn’t have to rely so much on the cave. By the time they’re done, Tim’s lips are permanently curled upwards.
When he starts shuffling awkwardly as if looking for a way to say goodbye, Jason nonchalantly announces where he can find clean towels and clothes, as if this is a thing they do everyday. Tim seems baffled, but thankfully he doesn’t call Jason’s bullshit and obediently heads to the bathroom. By the time he’s done, Jason is fixing a meal for the two of them and some stupid movie is on TV—never the news, god, Jason hates watching the news.
Like a skittish stray, Tim is unsure of what to do with himself at first, but he catches the cue fast enough. He sits on the couch all stiff and restless until something on the screen grabs his attention.
“You like Wendy the Werewolf Stalker?” Tim asks, eyes wide.
“Do I like fucking what?”
Jason just needed the background noise to avoid freaking out about  how weird he’s being right now. Apparently, that was the wrong answer. Tim launches a rant on how amazing Wendy is and half of it goes over Jason’s head. He just gets that apparently Tim and Superboy both have a crush on this werewolf hunting chick and they used to spend hours watching her instead of doing actual work at Titans Tower.
He also manages to actually eat the food Jason made, which is a win in Jason’s book.
It’s a nice night, overall.
It becomes, not a habit, but a thing. Tim sometimes shows up to one of Jason’s safehouses needing a stitch job or medicine. Jason doesn’t know how he nails which one Jason is at currently or if he just goes to every single one still bleeding until he finds Jason. Or even if he just lets himself in and takes care of his wounds without any help. If so, Jason wouldn’t blame him. He’d choose his crappy hideouts over Tim’s soulless apartment any day.
On the third time it happens, Tim isn’t hurt at all. He just wants to bitch about Vicki Vale stalking him and his supposed ex-fiancée that he's actually trying to date. Jason feeds him real food, as usual, and listens to what he has to say, as unusual. They end up on the couch watching A Nightmare on Elm Street, which, oddly enough, has Tim getting overly enthusiastic about going to bed because he’s curious about the magic behind Freddy Krueger. Jason tells him to let him know if any dream demons show up when he leaves Tim dozing off on the couch.
Tim starts texting Jason. At first, it’s all very professional. Messages like 1 of the stupid crooks in your territory almost killed robin yesterday do smth abt it followed by I don’t care that he’s a demon in a kevlar vest Hood you didn’t have to deal with nightwing crying afterwards!!! Then they slowly shift into something more casual on the lines of is dis u? An d attached a picture of Elizabeth Bennet wearing the red Power Ranger helmet which… What sort of context led to that meme being created?
Jason pretends not to care, but he preens with pride when Tim laughs at his dark jokes. Stupid gallows humor that would have made Bruce call an expensive therapist and Dick squirm in discomfort have the kid snorting coffee out of his nose.
It’s like they’re friends.
Part of him sometimes toys with the idea of them being normal kids —or as normal as you can be in Gotham—and he realizes that he would’ve made friends with Tim so fucking fast. Dick is the golden child and all of them would end up worshiping him and respecting him as their older brother, of course. Tim would be added to their family and Jason, not-murdered, regular problem-child Jason, would resist him at first, but he would soon see that he wasn't just an annoying nerd. He was a fun, annoying nerd. They would gang up on Dick, as younger brothers ought to do, and Jason would protect Tim from bullies and Tim would use his good son credit to get Jason out of trouble with Bruce.
This, however, may be as good as it gets for people with their fucked up upbringing. Jason already knew Tim wasn’t your regular spoiled rich boy and they bond over having shit childhoods even if they don’t talk about it.
All in all it feels nice to be looked up to. To have the kid come to him when he’s in trouble. To have someone looking at him with a shine in his eyes like the one Jason has when he looks at Dick. It makes Jason feel like he’s worth something. He sees Tim get comfortable with him after weeks of acting like a stray cat and he knows the kid feels the same. It’s a new feeling for both of them.
It’s like they’re really brothers.
Being part of the Red Robin fan club, Jason finds out, gives him good credit with the Bats.
Bruce and Dick are always going to be concerned about Jason’s slightly loose moral compass. Gremlin is always going to hate him because he’s a Gremlin. Barbara tolerates him at best.
Stephanie, however, shows up unannounced to one of Red Hood’s busts and laughs it off when he complains about Batgirl ruining his rep. She then invites Jason to watch a movie with her since they finished early. He thinks that’d be very weird, so he refuses. Unbothered, she says an airy “Maybe next time” before leaving.
He thinks a shadow once told him to come by the manor more often, almost giving him a heart attack. He thought Cassandra was in Hong Kong, for fuck’s sake; when did she come back?
One time he texts Tim for tech support and no one but the Signal shows up at Jason’s doorstep with a codebreaker and a list of instructions from Red Robin. Duke doesn’t look as wary of Jason as he once was and the two quickly fall into friendly banter, complaining about Tim’s nerdiness.
Jason knows if he asked Steph about it, he would never hear the end of it. Cass isn’t the easiest person to hold a conversation with. He guesses Duke is decent enough not to dwell on it, so he asks,
“Why are y’all suddenly okay with me?”
Duke quirks an eyebrow at him. Fortunately, he’s smart enough that Jason doesn’t need to explain further. “Tim trusts you,” he says simply. “Tim is the holder of the one brain cell of this family, so long we follow his cues, we’re golden.”
Jason doesn’t know what to say to that.
“Why, you don’t want us around?”
He mumbles something about it not being a big deal. Duke shrugs it off and changes the subject. Jason knows he’s doing it for his sake, because Duke might be the kindest person in their whole messed up family. Jason feels bad for refusing to learn his name for so long.
So it seems like two-thirds of the Batgirls and Signal were always less worried about Jason’s past than they were about his rivalry with Robin III.
And, fine, Jason does get a little jealous of that but he’s mature-ish enough to take what he can get. Plus Stephanie is funny as shit and it’s always fun to annoy Barbara by getting Batgirl involved in his fights, especially when Red Robin is around to back him up.
Everything is sort of nice now.
Sometimes, however, Jason wakes up in a cold sweat with the taste of copper in his mouth and a nightmare gunshot still ringing in his ears. He tried to kill Tim. He could’ve killed his little brother. He’s thankful for the times the nightmares come when Tim is sleeping over, because he can walk to the living room and check on the kid. Remind himself that Tim is alive and breathing under the old blankets and that he’s forgiven Jason. When he isn’t around, Jason is absolutely not above calling him in the middle of the night, making up a stupid case he needs Tim’s help with. For all his smarts, Tim never seems to realize Jason’s true motives.
Now that he thinks about it, he notices that Tim is on good terms with a lot of people that tried to kill him. Jason. Damian. That Prudence girl. He doesn’t find out the details, but he does hear something about Stephanie fucking him up and she’s now his best friend. Jason is more than a little concerned about that forgiving side of his.
Red Hood hates a lot of things. If he were to make a list, it’d take days to write it all down. He knows for sure that on the top of that list would be clowns. There is nothing he hates more than clowns.
Scarecrows are a close second, though.
Definitely close to a tie as he watches Red Robin stumble. “I think…” he mutters. “I think my rebreather is broken.”
“ Shit.”
Red Hood has to think fast. Fear gas is every-fucking-where and he lost sight of Scarecrow three canon-fodder crooks ago. He doesn’t have an extra rebreather, because he’s wearing his helmet and that does the job. He’s used to fighting alone. Not that having another rebreather would do them any good now that Red Robin has already breathed the nasty toxins.
In the end, Hood decides to take the defeat for what it is: a defeat. He throws a smoke bomb on the ground and grabs Red Robin by the waist, ignoring the startled squeak the boy lets out. They need to get out before Scarecrow’s goons realize what they’re doing.
“Stay with me,” Red Hood hisses. “Whatever you’re hearing or seeing, it’s not real.”
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They’re five minutes away from his nearest safehouse. It’d be faster to take one of their bikes, but he can’t risk it in case Tim starts hallucinating halfway there. They can make it there swinging, he can keep his brother out of danger.
“I’m fine,” Red Robin says. The way he’s limp in Hood’s hold, says otherwise.  “We’re going home. We’re safe.”
“We’re going home. Close your eyes. Focus on my voice.”
He does it.
“It’s just us now,” Hood reassures him. “We’re on the way to a safehouse where no one can find us and you can rest until the toxin is out of your system. Safe, easy.”
“Steph is fine, Bart is fine, Cassie is fine,” he chants, “Cass is fine, Alfred is fine, Dick is fine, Tam is fine, Pru is fine.”
He keeps listing people that are fine, because of course his fears are all about his friends being hurt. Surprisingly, Hood recognizes all of them. He’s heard Tim talking about all of them repeatedly and he knows their names and personalities, even if he doesn’t have all the faces to match. He isn’t surprised that his friends come first then their family.
“That’s right, kiddo,” Jason encourages. “Who else?”
“Dad..” Tim’s eyes shoot open. “Dad’s gonna kill me. Dad, Dad will know I’m Robin, he’s- He’s gonna take Robin away from me, I can’t- This is the first time I’m being useful.”
Fuck.
“Your dad isn’t here. And you’re not Robin, kid, you’re Red Robin,” Jason reminds him.
“That’s… that’s right. I failed him. I failed Dick, so…”
Double fuck.
“That’s bullshit,” Jason says, but it’s hard to keep the conversation going while he’s carrying Tim’s weight.
They’re two minutes away from safety before Tim starts struggling to get away from Jason. He doesn’t say anything else, which may be more concerning, he just grunts with the effort and squirms. Jason really hopes no one was paying attention enough to notice what looks like Red Hood kidnapping a terrified Red Robin.
“Shit- Stay put, Red, we’re almost home,” Jason says.
Tim’s breath catches and returns, erratic, and Jason can’t bear to look at his horrified face, he hates to see the utter fear that has his brother’s already pale complexion turn ashen, his lips pressed into a line so tight it has got to hurt. Jason starts listing the names of the people that are supposedly fine and that catches Tim’s attention long enough that Jason can swing straight to the fire escape of the abandoned building where he set his hideout.
He sets Tim on the dusty mattress on the corner in a hurry and tosses his helmet aside. He starts undoing Tim’s safety measures so he can remove his cowl. Unlike Jason, he doesn’t wear a domino mask beneath it and Jason makes a mental note of talking to Tim about that later.
“Almost there, Timbers,” Jason says. He rips off his own domino without caring about the sting, hoping a familiar face will help. “I’m here. Now, where do you keep your fear gas antidote? I know you carry some around.”
Tim unconsciously reaches for a particular capsule on his bandolier. That’s enough of an answer for Jason, who pushes his hand away not as gently as he should and reaches for the small vial inside.
“Jay,” Tim whines. “Jay, you’re okay, right?”
Jason blinks, confused. “Of course I’m okay, Timbers. I’m right here.”
And as he rushes to grab the first aid kit under the sink, Jason starts to freak out. This gas isn’t causing hallucinations as much as it’s making Tim feel paranoid, it seems. What if it’s a new formula? What if the antidote doesn’t work? What if Tim keeps having anxious thought after anxious thought, until his heart gives in and-
“Jay!” Tim calls, desperate. “Jay, we have to get Kon! He’s- He’s in danger.” He starts getting up.
“Nope!” Jason pushes him right back into the mattress. “Kon is fine, he’s invulnerable, remember? He’s probably doing superdouche stuff in Metropolis.”
“He’s not, he’s- He’s gonna kill himself, Jay!” There are tears welling up in his eyes and Jason feels like someone just punched him in the gut. After all the shit they went through, he had never seen Tim cry. “He’s gonna sacrifice himself to save everyone, I can’t lose him, please, I’ll do it instead. He’s- No! Please, don’t do it!”
There we go. There are the hallucinations they all know and hate. Tim stretches out his hand as if he’s reaching for an invisible Superboy, so Jason takes the opportunity to start rolling up his sleeve and cleaning the inside of his elbow. Lucky for him, he always has a sanitized syringe. Now he just needs Tim to stay still.
What if it doesn’t work? What if I make it worse?
“Kon El, no,” Tim gasps. “KON EL! CONNER!”
Jason had never seen Impulse going full speed. But he did meet Barry Allen back when he was Robin and he never forgot the deafening noise of someone breaking the barrier of sound. More familiar is the noise of his freaking wall exploding. Before Jason realizes, he’s being ripped away from his screaming brother. He hacks and struggles, but there isn’t a lot he can do when a kryptonian steel arm presses against his throat, effectively pinning him to the wall.
“Give me one reason not to kill you,” Superboy growls, his eyes already glowing red.
Jason would be impressed with the boy’s ability to look murderous if he wasn’t about to have his head melted. He struggles a little more. Superboy doesn’t even seem to notice. Jason then pathetically raises the syringe in his hand and manages to choke out:
“A-antidote.”
Superboy blinks once. His eyes return to the regular shade of blue. He blinks twice. His expression shows only confusion when he releases Jason, that promptly falls on his knees. Jason coughs, touching his throat as if to make sure it’s still intact. Damn clone.
“What happened to him?” Superboy demands.
Tim isn’t trying to get up anymore, but rather convulsing on the same spot, screaming wordlessly in horror, tears streaming freely down his pale cheeks.
Jason coughs some more before he’s able to say something. “A-ask that first next time, will you? It’s… it’s fear gas.”
“And, what, am I supposed to believe you were helping him?” Superboy snarls.
Jason groans. He doesn’t have time for this. Tim has his eyes firmly shut and every scream, every time his voice breaks, it feels like someone is slashing at Jason’s chest, robbing him of air almost as effectively as Superboy did.
“I was about to do that before you interrupted,” Jason shows him the syringe again. “What do you think?”
Superboy squints at him, unhappy with his response.
“We don’t have time for that,” Jason snarls. “At this point, he’s gonna have a heart attack. I need you to hold him still.”
Superboy bites his lip in hesitation but Tim screams his name again and he winces as if the sound is kryptonite for his ears. Finally, he nods and crouches down by the mattress.
“It’s okay, Rob,” he says. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.”
At that, Tim miraculously relaxes for a second. Jason kneels by his side again and holds the outstretched arm Superboy is keeping still.
“Don’t hurt him,” Jason warns. Judging by the look Superboy gives him, the only reason he’s not getting the laser eye treatment is because he’s the only one around capable of helping Tim.
“No,” Tim whines. “Not Jason…”
Jason freezes. Superboy’s eyes start to glow again.
“Not Jason, not again,” Tim continues, delirious, his expression twisting in pain. “Please, please, don’t, help him, HELP HIM!”
Jason stabs the needle into his pale skin and it’s a miracle that he does it right, because he is shaking. Fuck this. Fuck Scarecrow. It’s wrong, it’s horrible to hear Red Robin begging like that. He hates the way the kid startles with the needle. He’s thankful that Superboy makes sure Tim stays put, because he doesn’t think his trembling hands could do that now.
“It’s okay, Timbers,” Jason hears himself saying, “it’s over now.”
“Please,” Tim sobs again, “I- I’m gonna solve this.”
God. Jason grabs his hand. “You did enough, baby bird. You solved enough already.”
Tim whimpers, but finally starts relaxing. It seems like the antidote is working its magic and the boy falls right asleep.
Superboy refuses to leave, much to Jason’s chagrin. It doesn’t surprise him, though. Conner is Tim’s favorite conversation subject when he’s in a good mood and apparently the clone is ready to just fly to Gotham if he hears Tim’s voice.
“You know, metas aren’t allowed here,” Jason reminds him.
Superboy has been stomping back and forth around Tim’s mattress. He's so angry that Jason is worried he’ll break the floor any minute now, but he stops to give Jason the biggest, meanest glower of the night. He doesn’t look anything like the mental picture Tim painted of him. Even with his ripped skinny jeans and 90’s leather jacket and dumb earrings, Superboy looks absolutely murderous.
“I’m not going anywhere until I see that Tim’s fine,” he says.
Jason sighs.
“Why are we here?” Superboy snaps. “Why didn’t you call Alfred or… or Batman or…”
“Because we don’t do that,” Jason cuts him. “Red Robin is not Batman's sidekick. If we can solve shit without involving Batman, we don’t involve Batman.”
It’s their unspoken rule, Jason knows that since the first time they fought side by side - the first time they had a sleepover - and he brought Tim home to patch him up. They don’t call dad or their older bro if they’re in trouble, because that’ll lead to them being in more trouble. They simply watch out for each other as much as they can.
Superboy isn’t happy with that explanation, but, before he can murder Jason for real, Tim stirs.
Jason and Superboy are kneeling by his side at the same time, which says something, since Jason doesn't have superspeed.
“Timbers?” Jason calls.
“Jay…?” Tim mumbles and his voice is still a little raw from all the screaming. He blinks and his eyes set on his best friend. “Conner? What are you doing here?”
“You called,” Superboy says simply. “I told you all you had to do was call my name.”
“How’s the head?” Jason asks. “You're still smart, right? You can’t afford to lose your brain cells, Timbers, with your ugly face they’re all you have.”
Tim snorts. Then groans. “Fuck off, Jason, don’t make me laugh.”
Jason smiles at him and he doesn’t notice the weird look Superboy is giving them.
“Rob? Do you remember what happened?”
Tim starts to sit up and Superboy is faster than Jason in wrapping an arm around his shoulders to steady him. He helps Tim rest his back against the wall and the grateful look Tim gives him makes Jason frown a bit because he feels there is something there he’s missing.
“Hmmm… We were fighting Scarecrow,” Tim says. “Fear gas, broken rebreather...” He looks at Jason as if seeking for confirmation. When Jason nods, he continues, “Jay got me out of there and the rest is… Wait. Where is Scarecrow? Did he escape?”
“That should be the last of your worries, Timothy, you almost died of fear,” Superboy scolds.
Tim sighs. “Oh, to be a young vigilante in the XXI century… passing away of fright.”
Superboy doesn’t get it, judging by his expression, but Jason does and he laughs out loud. He doesn’t miss the way Tim’s lip quirk up.
“See, baby bird, this is why I wear a helmet and so should you,” Jason says.
“Okay, but have you considered that we’d look stupid if we were all the man in the iron mask?”
Jason raises an eyebrow. “God forbid a whole family fighting criminals in leather fursuits look stupid. We wouldn’t fucking want that.”
Tim laughs, even if his voice is still a little hoarse, and Jason is relieved.
He is so relieved to see his brother fine that he doesn’t pay attention to the fact that Superboy still has his arm around Tim’s shoulders. That Superboy’s eyes get all soft when Tim laughs. That Superboy looks a little hurt when he offers to fly Tim home, but Tim refuses, saying that he’d rather spend the rest of the night here.
“I mean, if that’s fine…?” He glances at Jason, reminding him of those first sleepovers, when he was still unsure whether he’d be welcome or not.
Jason is so done feeling or letting his brother feel like an outsider. “The mattress is big enough for both of us, I don’t see why you’d go back to your own apartment when you can just sleep on a perfectly good mattress on the floor.”
“Hm. Cool then,” Superboy says, but instead of flying out through the giant hole he made on the wall, he shifts his weight from one foot to another awkwardly, clearly stalling.
Both brothers notice it. Neither has a problem interpreting Superboy’s fidgeting. Jason finds it annoying, but Tim gives him a pleading look. Jason sighs.
“You can stay too, big guy, but you gonna have to sleep on the floor.”
Superboy’s face lights up and he definitely doesn’t look like he wanted to melt Jason’s head just a couple of minutes ago. He rambles that it’s all good, he just needs to text Ma Kent to let her know where he is and he’s used to sleeping on the floor of the barn with Krypto and the cows (Jason would find that more upsetting if he didn’t know there is a cow somewhere in the Wayne manor too and Damian sleeps in the cave with it all the time).
In the end, Tim bullies Jason into giving Superboy the thickest blanket he has around. He tries suggesting he should sleep in the blanket and let Jason and Superboy share the mattress, but shuts up mid sentence under their glares.
It’s probably the most awkward sleepover so far, but Tim grins at Jason, grateful, and turns his back to him to be able to talk to Superboy in hushed whispers.
Jason tunes out their conversation and focuses on the fact that he did it. He saved Tim. It doesn’t make up for the times he fucked up in the past, but it sure makes him feel better about the present. He’s also thankful that Tim stayed instead of going to his own place. Hearing your little brother scream in fear for your life isn’t something enjoyable and Jason is sure he would have nightmares about if it wasn’t for the fact that Tim was laying right there in front of him. It’s the sound of his brother’s muffled laughter, mixed with Superboy’s, that lulls him to sleep.
Jason should have noticed then. But he didn’t.
For an intelligent guy, Jason can be really stupid sometimes.
The thing is… Jason is smart. He’s not Tim Drake smart, but he’s still a good detective. He’s also fairly sociable. Or at least he used to be, before he, you know, died and went through all the trauma, etc. He is no Dick Grayson, but he can hold a good conversation, pick up the right social cues, all that crap.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t mess up sometimes.
You see, months go by. Red Hood and Red Robin don’t often go on the field together, after all it’d do a number to both of their reputations, but, when they do, one of them always ends up injured and the other carries him home. It’s like a curse, the universe telling them to stick to their off-patrol partnership. Then a couple of weeks go by and they miss the feeling of fighting side-by-side and there they go again.
Tim keeps showing up at Jason’s place whenever he feels like it and he even hangs around Jason’s visiting friends sometimes. Kori adores Tim from the first time she puts her eyes on him. Roy takes a little longer to warm up, but even he can’t resist the kid. Jason likes it. He likes having his brother around. He likes that they get on like a house on fire.
So much he forgets Tim is a master of hiding shit.
On the week nearing Tim’s 19th birthday, Jason goes to his apartment. He doesn’t realize until he’s halfway there that he hadn’t been to Tim’s place since the night he met Prudence, which is odd, because it’d been basically a year and a half. Still, Tim goes over to Jason’s place all the time. The fact that Jason doesn’t repay the favor has everything to do with the fact that Jason hates Tim’s magazine apartment and nothing else.
Right?
Instead of going for the door, Jason uses his signature move and just swings to the balcony. The door is unlocked - Jason really has to have a talk with Tim about security, they’re in Gotham, for fuck’s sake - and he lets himself in.
To Tim’s credit, the place looks more well lived in now. There are mismatched pillows on the couch, a forgotten mug and a couple of books on the coffee table. Jason recognizes his copy of The Count of Monte Cristo and makes an annoyed sound noticing Tim’s bookmarker is still somewhere in the middle of the book even if it’s been weeks since Jason let him borrow it.
“Tim?” Jason calls. It’s half past nine, a little early for vigilante standards, but…
He hears the sound of someone sputtering and coughing from the kitchen. There he is.
Jason heads there and finds Tim desperately grabbing paper towels to clean coffee he apparently just spilled on his bare chest.
“J-Jason!”
“Jumpy aren’t we?” Jason comments. “What’s up, baby bird?”
It’s clear that Tim had just woken up, judging by his messy hair and the fact that he’s wearing nothing but red sweatpants with Superman’s symbol all over. His mildly terrified expression is weird, though. Tim is usually slow in the morning, but not that easy to startle.
“What are you doing here?” Tim whispers, clearly panicking.
The fact that Jason never visits Tim’s place suddenly comes to his mind. The possibility of him not being welcome hits him and it’s surprisingly painful. He thought they were doing well, that the kid liked him. All this time, was he being arrogant?
As his brain scrambles for something to say, something to think, he notices a sound that he hadn’t registered before: the shower.
Suddenly Tim’s rapidly reddening cheeks and doe wide eyes gain a new meaning. Jason forgets the hurt and a sly smile stretches on his face.
“Oh my god. Oh god, this is priceless. Baby bird, do you have a lady guest from last night?”
Tim makes a weird choking sound and this is too good, Jason is too delighted, look at little Timmy go, already getting it. (Jason would’ve chosen different pants for the morning after, but alas.)
Then a voice calls out: “Sweetheart, are you okay?”
A male voice.
Tim’s face becomes three shades darker, now perfectly matching his pants. Jason’s grin is now frozen on his face, his eyes wide with the realization.
The shower stops.
“Tim?” The voice calls again.
“I’m fine, Kon!” Tim responds and his voice is surprisingly even, considering he looks like he’s having an aneurysm.
That’s a bat for you. Master of hiding their emotions.
Sort of.
Kon, Tim said. Jason realizes that Tim isn’t wearing Superman merch. The sweatpants are Superboy themed.
Jason still remembers Superboy’s protective streak all those months ago and the fact that he woke up to the two of them holding hands - at the time, he thought nothing of it, because it had been a stressful night and he didn’t blame either boy for wanting to make sure the other was okay - and he thinks of all the subsequent times Tim went on and on about Conner and how a couple of weeks ago Tim just stopped mentioning Conner altogether.
God, Jason is the worst detective ever.
Tim pushes Jason out of the kitchen and towards the living room, presumably farther from the bathroom where his boyfriend with super hearing was showering.
“Fuck,” Tim mutters, “ fuckfuckfuck… ”
And he looks and sounds so distraught that Jason loses all the eagerness to tease him, concern quickly replacing any initial surprise he might have been feeling.
“Look,” Tim murmurs, looking anywhere but at Jason’s eyes, “it’s not… we’re just…”
Tim scrambles for words and this is so unlike him - Tim always has a plan, always knows what to say - it takes a moment for Jason to catch up on why he’s a stuttering mess. Jason had been so excited to find out his little brother had a boyfriend he forgot he lived in a world where homophobia was a thing.
“Timbers, chill out.” Jason grabs Tim’s hands from where they’re still resting on his shoulders. “It’s just me.”
Tim dares raise his gaze to meet Jason’s and it hurts a bit to see still a little fear in his blue eyes. Jason gives him an encouraging grin.
“I can’t believe you officially bagged a kryptonian. Way to go, kid.”
His shoulders slouch in utter relief right before he starts blushing again. What a cute kid.
“You keep calling me kid. You’re not that older. And don’t say it like that,” Tim mumbles.
“Like what? Like you’re snogging Superboy?” Tim punches him on the shoulder and Jason laughs. “Now I know why you were in such a hurry to leave the manor, you wanted your own place to bring your boyfriend over…”
“That’s not why I left and who said anything about a boyfriend? Maybe this was just a one night stand.”
Jason gives him a condescending look. “Timbers, I might have not realized you’re gay, but I do know you. You’re a boyfriend kinda guy.”
Tim rolls his eyes and mumbles something about assuming shit. “I’m bi,” he says.
“Cool,” Jason says, a shit-eating grin never leaving his face.
“Fuck,” Tim groans and lets himself fall on the couch. “How do you de-escalate an emotional situation so fast?”
“It’s a Bat thing, and you know how to do it too. All of us are trained to avoid emotions like the plague.”
“I was not prepared to come out when I got up this morning,” Tim admits.
Humming, Jason finally realizes that Tim doesn’t want to skip the emotions for this one. He sighs. The things he does for his brothers.
“It’s not a big deal, though,” he says. “I mean, you’re happy right?”
“I’m never happy.”
“Don’t quote Zuko. You started the real talk. You don’t get to bat your way out of it now.”
A sigh. “I’m happy. Conner is… the best.”
Jason nods. “Then it’s all good. I’m sure all the others would say the same.”
“You can't tell them!” Tim snaps, his eyes suddenly wide with panic again. “Seriously, Jay, you can’t-”
“Calm down, kid,” Jason cuts him off. “When did I make a habit of spilling your secrets to the B-man? It's none of their business.” Tim visibly relaxes and Jason adds: “Actually… Want me to make your house Dick-proof?”
“...what?”
“I mean, not kryptonian dick, you’re clearly into that,” and he ignores it when Tim pops him on the back of the head. “I mean Dick Dick, our brother. I could set up a better security system so you don’t have to worry about one of your siblings walking into something scarring, especially the clingy one.”
“No security system can stop Dick’s clinginess.”
“How do you think I keep him off my place?”
That’s when their little pow wow gets interrupted by more kryptonian skin than Jason ever wanted to see as Conner walks in with nothing but the smallest of the towels wrapped around his waist.
“Babe, what is--” He notices Jason and slips on literally nothing, barely catching himself before falling on his ass. “ Shit- I mean, nothing, I mean, we were just binging Wendy!”
Jason doesn’t say anything, but he does give Tim a look that says it all. He wasn't judging earlier, but he is now. Tim gives him a look that definitely means shut up.
In the end, Jason stays for breakfast.
It’s only mildly awkward, because he and Tim fill the silence talking about the latest case Jason’s working on while Conner makes them pancakes. Judging by the fact that he’s getting the ingredients from a bunch of plastic bags, he must have brought all the food with him. If anything, Jason is grateful that he and Alfred are no longer the only people trying to get Tim to eat actual food.
When Tim turns to Conner for his opinion, leaving Jason to enjoy his coffee, Jason looks around and notices that there are new pictures on the fridge. There are some of those disgustingly cute pictures of Tim and Conner, their cheeks pressed together as they make weird faces for the camera. There is a picture of Conner by himself and, again disgustingly, he is smiling at the camera as though the most precious person in the world is behind it. Both pictures are held by a sun magnet. There is a new candid shot of Cassandra, one of Alfred-Alfred holding cat Alfred, a new one of Dick and even Damian is in there.
And, his heart stops for a second, because now there are pictures of Jason as well.
They’re carefully placed far from each other, but there are three different pictures. There is one of Jason wearing his Lord of the Rings shirt, eating cereal on the couch, a confused expression on his face. He remembers when Tim took that picture, because Tim waited until Jason had his mouth full before calling hey Jay? and snapping the picture right as Jason looked at him, his cheeks like a chipmunk's. The second picture is a candid of him smiling, leaning against the rail of some safehouse balcony. The shot was carefully framed to not show anything distinct of the surroundings, just Jason and Gotham’s sky.
The third one is a selfie. In it, Jason is asleep, his lips parted and face relaxed, his head resting on Tim’s shoulder. Tim has a shit eating grin on his lips as if there is nothing funnier to him than his giant older brother falling asleep on him in the middle of movie night. Tim had the decency of drawing a mustache on Jason’s face to decrease sappiness, but that effect is ruined by the fact that the picture is held by a magnet that was clearly Iron Man but Tim had painted it red to look like Jason’s hood.
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Jason had sworn off killing, at least for a little while.
But he would gladly kill again for his little brother.
As he gets ready to leave, he turns to Conner and deadpans, “I don’t have to tell you that I can and I will make kryptonite bullets, do I?”
“Jason!” Tim scolds.
“What? I’m the first of the family to find out. Least I can do is taje care of the shovel talk.”
“Stop threatening my boyfriend.”
Conner blushes profusely and mouths the word boyfriend with marvel and ugh. Just… ugh . Jason is happy that Tim is happy, but he and Conner are apparently that kind of couple and Jason wants to have none of it.
“So, first we kill Damian,” Jason starts.
“No,” Tim says.
“Aw, come on, you didn’t even consider it!”
Cassandra waits until they decide their plan of action (it’s probably going to be Tim’s) and keeps her expression carefully neutral as not to show which one of them she agrees with (Tim).
The thing, Jason realized, is that all of them have favorites in their family and knowing that makes it easier to tear them down. Dick can fuck off with his I love you all equally bullshit, because he clearly always favors Damian. Damian swings between Batdad’s little boy and Nightwing’s murder baby. Tim will easily lose focus whenever Steph is involved. Steph is oddly protective of Duke, for some reason. Cassandra is mostly neutral. She’s everyone’s favorite, including Bruce’s, but she’s also the deadliest of them all so she is no one’s weakness. She does, however, have a soft spot for Tim over any of her brothers. Since Jason became close friends with Tim, he entered Cassandra’s selective protection bubble and he’s now, by all definitions, untouchable.
Or at least that’s how he felt when she chose him for her team right after Tim.
“We kill Dick first,” Tim knocks down the little Nightwing action figure on the carpet. “Cass, you’re the only one who can take him down. Jay and I distract the others while you do the job. Damian will get personally offended by that and will grow reckless.” He knocks down the little imp figurine. “I can take care of him then. Steph will be hiding somewhere ready to strike. She is best in close range combat. Jay, I need you to take her down before she gets too close.” He pushes down the Barbie doll someone dressed as Batgirl, because apparently they couldn’t find blonde Batgirl merch and they were very offended. “Then we win.”
He may sound impressive, but the whole time he’s speaking he has his head resting on Cass’ lap and she is carding her fingers through his hair as a villain would do to their evil pet cat.
“Can’t I murder the demon brat?” Jason complains.
Tim glares at him - again, not very intimidating while he’s basically lying on his sister’s lap.
“You know Steph would wipe the floor with me. You’re the only one I can trust to get her.”
“Unless…” Jason turns around. “Du-”
“No.”
“Come on, I’ll give you ten bucks.”
“Jason, we’re all rich, you can’t buy me.” Duke doesn’t even raise his eyes from his book. “Plus last time I let y’all drag me into this shit, Steph knocked off one of my teeth with Tim’s staff.”
“If you hadn’t killed me, then she wouldn’t have taken revenge,” Tim argues.
“And yet you’re planning to kill Dick counting on the fact that Damian will try to avenge him.”
“Wet blanket,” Cassandra says.
Tim and Jason go into a giggling fit as Duke sputters, too indignant to put his thoughts into words.
In the end, Duke still doesn’t join them.
As they expected, the enemy was listening to their plan - Jason is sure Dick was against it, but Stephanie and Damian are definitely not above spying - nonetheless they still played their parts as expected: Steph and Damian tried protecting Dick first and foremost, but not even the two of them combined could take Cassandra. Not with Jason and Tim backing her up.
Cassandra knocks Dick down and sits on his back. The large yellow paint splash on his chest proves that he’s dead. Rather than being upset, Dick starts doing push ups with his sister there as the rest of his siblings and Steph fight to death.
Unfortunately, Damian wasn’t as angered by Dick’s demise as they expected and is still a good match for Tim. Until Tim gasps and goes Titus, don’t eat that! It was an obvious ploy, but still got Damian to let down his guard and whip his head around looking for his precious dog. Tim shoots him without hesitation and Damian goes on a rage soliloquy.
Jason would appreciate it if he wasn’t having such a hard time with Stephanie. Apparently Barbara has been feeding her steroids, because the girl is now as quick as a ninja. She hits Jason in the kneecaps with Tim’s staff - they’re not even in the same team this time, how the fuck did she get Tim’s staff??? - and shoots him point blank in the chest. And damn, that shit hurts. He bets it’s purple under his shirt too.
Steph is mid celebration when her victory whoop turns into a pained groan. Twin splotches of red and yellow bloom on her back as Cassandra and Tim lower their guns.
“Fuck,” Jason complains. “Couldn’t’ve done that before she killed me?”
“We win,” Cassandra says.
“Shouldn’t you be fighting to the death now?” Dick asks. Now that Cass is off his back, he’s lying on the side like one of your French girls. Jason wishes Cass would shoot him again.
“I would never betray Cass,” Tim says.
“We rule together.” She walks to him and stands on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead.
Tim grins a wicked grin because he knows he is Cassandra’s favorite and everyone can die mad about it.
Steph and Damian start shouting their complaints at the same time while Dick laughs his ass off. From his lawn chair, Duke is glaring at them as if he can’t believe he’s legally related to any of these weirdos.
His gaze meets Dick’s and his older brother looks absolutely elated with pride even though all of their siblings are yelling about paintball.
Jason simply smiles back.
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miraculous-mare · 4 years
Text
Firsts - Maribat March Day 1
I know I’m super late but this month is a mess for me. I’m doing my best to catch up, promise. This is a cute yet slightly angsty Marinette x Conner fit based on a text post by @incorrect-maribat. Friends to lovers and a ton of mutual pining.  I’ll link the post in the morning as I can’t find it now. 
@maribat-archive @maribat-march2020 
Warning: Alcohol consumption
***
It is statistically proven that, if one was to rank people’s attractiveness on an integer-based, numerical scale, the average score Marinette Dupain Cheng would receive from everyone on Planet Earth (and other planets, in both this and other dimensions), would be a 1000. Out of ten. 
Of course, this number is heavily skewed: Marinette, who considers herself to be a zero, is an outlier and should not be counted. 
Unfortunately (that is, for all real life applications of this metaphor) Marinette’s opinion of Marinette is the only one that does count. 
Which, Conner thinks, is why she is currently sitting on his kitchen counter after another failed date, clutching a near-empty bottle of wine in her hand and explaining to him, in great and undoubtedly false detail, exactly how unloveable she is. 
“But Mari,” he whines, not for the first time that night. “You can’t actually believe any of that crap. You’re gorgeous, incredibly talented, and I’ve seen you yeet super-powered aliens straight into walls! What’s not to love?”
“No, you don’t get it. It’s just…” she frowns and taps her fingers on the counter, as if trying to find the words. Conner notes that as the night goes on, and the bottle in her hand empties, her ramblings become less self-deprecating and more amusing. He wonders when the ladybug instincts will knock her out and he’ll have to carry her to bed, and thinks about having to sleep on the couch again.
Suddenly, Marinette sits straight up, almost knocking her head into the cabinet behind her. She brings her empty hand in front of her and waves it erratically, as of grasping for something invisible. 
“I got it! See, it’s like this.” Her sentences are heavily punctuated, and she fixes Conner with a heavy stare. “Objectively, I’m not that bad, it’s just that no one is into me. It’s like, I’m a snack, but no one is hungry!” At that last declaration she sits back, a wide smile lighting up her face. Conner can’t help but think of how beautiful she looks, perched wine-drunk in his apartment in the dead of night acting like she’d just dispensed priceless wisdom upon him. 
“Well, I for one am fucking starving,” he whispers under his breath, then quickly clamps a hand over his mouth. She can’t have heard that, he thinks, feeling his cheeks turning bright red. But when he dares to look up at her he sees her staring back at him, brows furrowed and face scrunched up. “No- Mari, I’m sorry, I was just kidding— hey, are you crying?”
She shook her head and took another swig from her wine bottle, but he could see the tears streaming down her face. In a flash, he was standing in front of her, pulling the bottle away from her face and cradling her arms in his. Shit. Conner hated watching Marinette cry, hated to see her reduced to a blubbering mess of blotched cheeks tears, hated to be responsible for it. “I’m so sorry Mari, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I- please tell me how to make it better.” 
She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she closes her eyes, trying to regain control. Conner can feel her body shake under his hands and has to resist the urge to pull her into a hug. She probably hates you right now, he thinks. What were you thinking? You can’t just hit on a girl when she’s vulnerable like that! He is about to launch into a fresh tirade of I’m sorry’s when she finally looks up, blue eyes watery. He expects her to yell at him. To pull him away from her and storm out of his apartment. He does not expect her to pull her arm back and slap him harshly on the chest. Superboy, invulnerable as he is, still flinches at the sudden contact.
“You can’t just say stuff like that Conner! It-it’s not fair.” She is sobbing again, her hand grabbing fistfuls of his t-shirt and her face buried in his chest. He stood frozen, stuck with his arms on either side of her, desperately wanting to wrap them around her but afraid she wouldn’t want him to. “Look, it’s just, I can never tell if you're kidding or not. One moment it’s like, you might actually be into me and the next you’re calling me your best friend again. And I know I’m  gonna wake up tomorrow and be super embarrassed for having this conversation with you but you know what? I really like you! And I… I really like this wine. This is really good wine.” At that, she pulls him closer and collapses into him, her body slumping into his. Slowly, Conner lets his arms find their way to her waist and wrap around her.
“Hey, Mari. I like you too, yeah? We-we can talk about this in the morning, okay? Let’s get you to bed.” He got nothing but a soft grumble in return, and he pulls her off the counter and carries her into his room. She clings to him like a koala, arms and legs wound tightly around his torso, and he tries not to let the overwhelming smell of cinnamon body wash and strawberry shampoo and Marinette Dupain Cheng overwhelm him. She’s drunk, she’s drunk, she’s drunk, he thinks over and over, she doesn’t know what she’s saying. Still, as he lays her down on his bed and pulls the covers over her, Conner can’t  help but hope they’ve unlocked something, can’t help but pray things might change between them.
He wishes her goodnight, still hovered over her half asleep form, and resolves to get her a glass of water and an Advil before he sets up the couch-bed. Yet, when he moves to stand, her hand grabs his arm and she holds him in place above her.
“Conner,” she whispers, her voice muffled by sleep and the covers. The dim light from the kitchen dances across her face, and Conner can’t help but stare at her glowing freckles. “Can you sleep here tonight?”
He’s caught off guard by her question. He’d always slept on the couch when she came over, no questions asked. “Are you sure, Mari? I don’t want to bother you, not when you’re alr—“
She doesn’t let him finish speaking, tugging on his arm to pull him down next to her. He doesn’t stop her. 
It’s only once they’ve pulled the covers over each other, and Marinette has wrapped Conner’s body around hers, that he lets himself hope she was serious. 
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mrspillow · 4 years
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Happy Birthday (Sting Eucliffe x Reader)
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The day had been normal, in fact so awfully normal that you couldn’t quite understand how that was possible. How the hell could just this one day be so boring and unexciting as you never thought it possibly could be when being part of a guild as Sabertooth?
In fact, it was the only day that you never thought to ever be normal.
Because it was your freaking birthday, the day that was undoubtedly thought to excite you the most.
You thought of it the second you opened your eyes in the morning and you weren’t able to pry that thought off your mind. Now, rest assured, normally you weren’t that excited for something that would happen either way and every year.
But still, this year was so very special for you because it was the first time in forever that you actually got to celebrate it with people whose company you enjoyed more than anything. Sure, there had been your parents and some friends you had during your childhood, but that had been it.
But now, that you finally – after such a long time of working hard on getting better and practicing with everything you got – finally, were a member of the infamous Sabertooth guild, you felt at peace. With Sting as a master, the guild had made nothing but progress and the people you would meet every morning in the guildhall were the people that you loved the most.
As fast as you could without being in a hurry, you got ready, ate something and went straight out the door and closed it behind you to get onto your way to the guild.
It was not a long way to go, but today, it felt even shorter than it was. Near your apartment went a river to downtown which you followed in a modest, but not slow tempo with a skip in your step one or two times. Brushing a blown-over strand of your (h/c) hair out of your face and behind your ear, you let your thoughts drift off.
Did they remember your birthday? You remembered the books you read where the protagonist was always surprised by the party the threw for him. Would they do the same for you? 
A grin appeared your face when you thought about the day of Yukino’s birthday. The moment the white-haired girl had entered the door to the guildhall, everyone had shouted a ‘Happy Birthday!’ at her, swinging confetti through the air and waving happily. Yukino had been so surprised and happy that she was even crying out of happiness.
You pushed yourself out of these daydreams when you neared the entrance that was wide open so that everyone could walk straight in. Taking in a short breath, you stopped for a short amount of time before getting in as well to start your day at Sabertooth.
One minute, two minutes, five minutes went by and nothing happened. 
Not a single person in this room made a move, uttered not even a word to show that they remembered your birthday. Confused, you stood in the middle of the hall, somewhere between hoping that just one of your guildmates would remember and feeling like all of the let you down and not even knew it.
Was it a bit childish of you to expect them to? Maybe.
Did it hurt like hell to know that even the people which you spent the whole day with forgot? Definitely.
Urging yourself to do more than just stand there like an idiot, you did only a few steps to the nearest table, taking a seat next to Sting, who barely nodded, welcoming you. Lector was busy sitting with Frosch and discussing the newest encounter with Charle while the other exceed was busy scratching over a paper with his colorful crayons, working on his masterpiece.
“Sooo… how’s it going?” You asked, taking a look at all of them “Something new?”
Stings eyebrows furrowed in an annoyed and bored manner, staring up at the ceiling as if there was something that would get him out of this.
“Nah”, he answered and moved his arms forward and over the table to stretch “Not a single thing.”
Rogue nodded in agreement while Yukino stayed silent, her dark eyes locked onto the surface of the wooden table with a gaze you could not quite place.
“Nothing”, you repeated shallowly and went silent. This day had started so well that you would have never thought it would turn out like this. 
Like a day so normal that nothing exciting ever happened.
Except for the ache that came from the tiny crack in your heart. Especially these people, the ones you spent most of your time with, laughing, joking and sometimes even crying together. It was like yesterday that you went in here for the first time in your life, stunned by the high ceiling of the building and the many members that swarmed around, taking jobs or a day out. You still know how unsure you were if they would even take you, an unexperienced wizard with only average talent and charisma that clearly needed some polishing.
And in this time, a certain blond took you by the hand, making you feel at home from the first day since. Sting had smiled at you, took that administration sheet out of your hand and pulled you back to the main hall where he had introduced you to all the members the guild had to offer. The White Dragon Slayer had not needed more than a day to get you to like him immediately.
And now the moment had come where you had to admit that none of those feelings of adoration or simple happiness about being with him would possibly be returned.
‘Don’t make such a fuss over something as simple and childish as a birthday, (Y/N).’ you told herself, ignoring the lump in your throat as far as possible. But even still, you felt betrayed. Ever since you were a young child your parents had told you that would someone care about you, they would remember everything that made you you.
All of them had asked for your birthday, more than once, and they seemed so mindful and caring. You had to admit that you had believed in at least some of them to remember the date. Yes, Sting had his moments where he’d forget the things, he wanted to do just seconds before, but in the most serious of times, he had never forgotten something about you.
Sighing, you stood up from the table, ignoring Rogue’s side glance at you and excusing yourself, saying you would take a job. No one offered to go with you, not even polite Yukino but you did not dare to ask one of them if they wanted out of fear the would turn you down.
Pressing your mouth shut to make sure no noise would leave those treacherous lips of yours, you went over to the Request Board, taking a random sheet of paper into your hands and walking straight to the entrance from which you had come just minutes ago.
“(Y/N)!”, a familiar voice shouted from behind you and made you turn around just to look into the sky-blue eyes aimed at you. His smile stretched from cheek to cheek as he waved at you and you waved back, feeling a little bit relieved.
“Promise you won’t do anything reckless, will you?”, he shouted as you left the guildhall to make your way to the carriages and out of town. 
Watching you disappear out of sight, Sting turned around to the group that was still seated at the table and he sighed and slumped back down onto the chair.
“She looked sad that nobody mentioned something”, Yukino threw in and made a guilty face, looking sideways.
“I know”, the blond answered and crossed his arms in front of his shoulders “But she will be even more excited when she sees the surprise when she comes back! I’m sure about that!”
Confidently he grinned at his friends as all of them got to work.
Oh god, it fucking hurt. That was now how it was supposed to go, definitely not.
Bringing your upper body against a nearby tree and leaning your head on the wet bark of the tree, sighing. Everything in your sight was still spinning and you felt like you were going to puke any second now.
When you had taken that job from the Request Board you had not looked onto the type of that request until you were at the carriages to know where you were going. It was a Quest like the ones you had already taken before but always with the help of someone else, most of the time Sting.
You had looked down onto the piece of paper, then shortly back to where the guild was down the road but you could not bring yourself to turn around and ask someone for help just because you weren’t able to take on a few thieves on your own.
From then on, you had been so motivated and self-confident in your powers. You had trained months, years and slowly you were gaining enough experience to do it on your own, like a wizard of Sabertooth.
But hell, had you underestimated those folks. Not only were there more than you had expected when the major of a nearby town had told you about their problem but also had them been equipped with weapons sharp enough to cut you even with only a small graze. And you had nobody to cover your back.
So, basically, it was clear that you would not be able to get out of this unscathed but the pounding in your leg was unbearable still. And frankly, you considered yourself quite lucky that you weren’t hurt that fatally but only with some broken bones and somewhere on the downside of a slope.
At first, it had been nothing more than the usual beating up of those thieves but the longer the fight continued the more tired you got until it was nothing more than a question of time that you were getting hurt.
You did not even notice one of the other thieves sneaking up from behind you until  he was pushing you down from the road and into the woods, rolling down with no way to stop until you crashed legs first against the stone that came nearly out of nowhere.
On the bright side of it, those thieves hadn’t bothered to look for you to take you down for real this time. Sadly though, your right leg seemed to have taken it worse because just turning your leg a bit felt like fire running through your veins.
When you finally sat up to look at your surroundings your eyes caught your bag only a few feet away so you snatched it quickly to look after the communication lacrima which you remembered you put in there.
Feeling the item you pulled it out only to reveal the cracks in the surface with no possibility that you could get it to work again to call someone – anyone.
Sighing, you closed your eyes and you thought crossed your mind. Sting would be so, so angry with you when he found out that you hadn’t asked anyone for help and failed the job. He would probably yell at you for being so stupid and right now you could only agree.
Shuffling a bit over the ground you tried to get both of your legs to at least do something that reminded of walking but as soon as it came to your right leg it failed miserably, leaving you on the ground.
“Great, just great”, you mumbled to yourself as you dusted some dirt from your clothes and stared at the sky, somewhat angry. If it went on like that, there was no other way but for you to wait for some passers-by or the guys from Sabertooth getting suspicious about your lack of return.
Even your surroundings seemed to be abandoned and so far away from the street that you doubted people would find you soon and there weren’t many options except getting help and waiting for help but the latter was perhaps the best idea in your kind of state.
And so, you started shouting occasionally, hoping that by some miracle, someone would find you.
You had been sitting at that stone for hours, shouting until your lungs burned, and your throat hurt but with the dwindling daylight, it became so cold that you just wanted to get away from here, as fast as possible. And so, you went on with shouting.
When the sun touched the horizon and filled the woods with a rainbow of red, orange, and purple you became quiet for a moment just to watch the spectacle until a familiar voice drew your attention.
“(Y/N)!”, someone shouted, voice echoing through the woods but nonetheless so clear that you did not doubt who it possibly could be. “Where are you?”
Taking in a breath and shouted from the top of your lungs you tried everything to not cry from the happiness of being found before you would spend the whole night in the woods, alone.
“I’m here!”, you answered, and steps became louder until the blond hair made your heart skip a beat. Sting came running down the slope, only stopping his running when he stood just in front of you, his chest heaving up and down.
The next thing you knew, the White Dragon Slayer was looking at you with those deep blue eyes but you did not found the expected anger in them. There was nothing but worry and relief that these orbs mirrored.
“I’ve been looking for you for hours!”, he started once he caught his breath, crossing the both of his arms in front of his chest and mustering you with such a serious gaze that you shuddered. His eyes traveled to your leg, clearly seeing how injured it was. He furrowed his brows.
“You promised me you weren’t going to be reckless!” he said, his voice coming out sharper than he had planned, but he couldn’t care less “You promised!”
“Sorry”, you whispered and gulped hard. Fumbling with your fingers you looked at the ground and away from the blond and wishing nothing more than that the ground would swallow you altogether.
Sting sighed and knelt beside you, suddenly feeling a calmness overcoming him and he smiled.
“I’m just happy that you’re okay” his look came back to your leg “Kind off, at least.”
Without even a further word, he scooped you up effortlessly. You squeaked from the sudden lift into the air and your hands clanged to his vest in fear of him letting you fall (not that he would ever do that, but you couldn’t be sure).
“And now”, he stated, “We’re going back to Sabertooth and we will get you a proper birthday party.”
“Wha…?”
“You didn’t really think we would forget, did you?”
Maybe today hadn’t been such a normal day after all but in all the good ways.
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appples · 4 years
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Oh, Cats (3/10)
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pairing: Aizawa x Reader (OC)
genre/warning: 18+
words: 1535
summary: An average girl with a cat quirk starting over in a new city, as typical as usual. Until it’s not. You drop into someone’s life unannounced and not necessarily wanted.
Classes were challenging at first. You had never had any kind of teaching position before, and it felt like you were learning the job on the fly. Not having a set class or homeroom designation, you floated between all the classes. Some more than others, depending on which teachers needed you. It was a new program the school was trying. Instead of giving you designated tasks, they allowed you to move around when required. Grading papers and exams were something you looked forward to in the first few weeks because it usually meant you weren't spending time with students. Most of them were great, a few difficult ones. Then there was a group of three friends in class 2-A and 2-B that you swore could already be working heroes. Although one of them tends to leave their clothes behind. That's not to say the students were terrible, but it was still weird having some people come to you looking for advice, answers, and authority. It didn't feel like very long ago that you were the same age as them.
Hands-on and physical classes tended not to ask for you often unless the teacher was behind on paperwork and had you finish it for them. UA was a school for heroes and heroes to be, but you had never had any sort of training or development of your quick. It made you sometimes wonder why they hired you if the average student was more powerful than you. Every day you tried your best to mask that lingering doubt, but there are some cracks you can't always seal up. Every once in a while, someone notices. Students never come right out and say anything, but you think their trust in you has diminished. On the other hand, some students seemed to look forward to the classes they shared with you. It might have something to do with Aizawa's teaching style compared to yours. However, you took your wins wherever you could get them.
Over time you got to know the students and noticed things particular to each student and how that affected them. The students who were falling behind were the most notable. A few of them had support-oriented quirks and struggled with how they would go out into the pro field, questioning their abilities and work ethic. Whenever they hurt, you hurt. After a particularly rough class with Aizawa, you found a student crying. Approaching them, you let them know that you were their biggest cheerleader, praising them for their successes and how much they have accomplished. They were having difficulty accepting it after hearing negative remarks for the last hour, so you sat with them until they were ready.
"You know, not everyone gets their start right away. A lot of great pros grew into it." You feigned a smile.
"I know, but that's what everyone says to someone who is falling behind." They looked far away at nothing. Your heart sank. There wasn't much you could say to them to try and convincer them otherwise.
"Well, I think you're doing great. Maybe it might help if you don't focus so much on Aizawa's criticism right now. Give yourself a breather to work on improving your skillset. The whole class knows him better than I do, so I can't speak with authority on that, but he does care for all of you. He can just…"
"Be an asshole?" the enquired. You snapped your fingers.
"That's it." It was the first time you had seen the student laugh in a while. Soon they rejoined the class exercise and enthusiastically participated in the activity. From there, the class went smoothly, allowing you to catch up on a few tasks from other teachers.
A shadow suddenly cast over you, blocking the light. Looking up, you saw Aizawa looming over with a rather nasty scowl.
"What are you telling my students to do?"
"Excuse me?" You loudly put your work away.
"I overheard you telling them that I was an asshole and to ignore my feedback." Standing up, you tried to close the gap between you too, but there was well over a half-foot difference in height.
"That is not what I said. I don't recall you standing there while we were speaking."
"So, you did say something."
"You really are kind of an asshole," you absolutely did not mean for that to come out. In an attempt to try and save face, you turned and walked away. What am I even doing? This is making things so much worse. I don't want to deal with this anymore. God, I wish I never ran into him before starting here. Or should I say, rammed into him? No, stop. Think of some kind of plan. Aizawa decided to follow you.
"Hey!" You kept walking. This was not the plan.
"Hey! Stop!" You didn't stop. Aizawa gruffly expressing his annoyance.
"No!" you shouted and kept walking. Without any hesitation, Aizawa released his capture weapon, sending it racing towards you and winding its way around your wrist, bringing you to an abrupt halt. Furious, you turned around and stomped your foot.
"I am finished talking with you now. Please, let me go."
"That's unfortunate because I'm not done yet." You struggled against the bindings to no avail. Aizawa was walking towards you, consumed with anger. "What do you think you're doing showing up and telling my students not to listen to me?"
"I didn't say that!" your frustration bubbling to the surface, "You're not listening to me."
"Then tell me again." The binding was digging into your arm, but he was not letting up for a minute. Standing uncomfortable close and looming over you, he stared you down.
"Some of the students… aren't as talented as the others. They're terrified that you're going to expel them, and their basic performance is starting to suffer. After class, sometimes a few of them come to talk to me because they're afraid of you and don't know how to reach their potential. They need someone to cheer them on once in a while. You can't just shout at them and threaten to expel them every week, expecting all your students to respond positively to that. At the end of the day, when they go home, they're still just kids."
"That doesn't mean anything. If students can't handle what I am teaching them, there is no way they will ever become a pro hero, and they should leave now."
"But not everyone works like that. Just because someone needs to be told 'good job' or 'I believe in you' in high school doesn't mean they will never grow and learn."
"Students at UA need to be ready now. They need to be prepared for the worst-case scenario at all times. Only they can rely on themselves. The consequences of not making sure they perform at this level are dire and irreversible. I'm sorry, I don't know how you would understand." Shock coursed through your body; you balled your hands into fists. "You're not a pro, and you don't understand what it takes to get there."
"Fine, maybe I don't, but these kids want to push themselves and succeed so badly. They know they can do it. It's just sometimes …sometimes I just want to help too, and that's my problem." Aizawa nodded and released the binding.
"In your own way, you do help. But please, don't get in the way of my teaching again." Your face burned with embarrassment as Aizawa looked down at you with that disappointed dad stare he's perfected. "It's not logical to tell the students opposing sets of information. In the end, it can become confusing and have detrimental consequences."
"I want to help more, in any way I can," you genuinely meant it. The students had quickly become a part of your extended family.
"Hmmm, I might have an idea. Both 3-A and 3-B have excelled in combat and rescue simulations, but they haven't had much practice taking down vigilantes or above-average criminals. You have enough skill to defend yourself but are just shy of dealing with attack damage. Maybe we can use you in a demonstration, and you can work with the students in groups. Something they haven't had much practice in is holding back enough so as not to injure the person of interest but to use enough force to take them down with no risk of escape." He ran his hand through his hair as he spoke. You could almost remember what it felt like when that was your hand.
"Okay, how about this. I will set up a series of drills over a week or two. You will be running the demo and taking each team aside and run through the drills and demo until you are captured and brought to me," You nodded in appreciation.
"Thank you, I do just want what's best for them."
"Don't ever undermine me in front of my class again." With that, he walked off, leaving you to realize what you just signed up to do. Oh fuck. When was the last time I exercised, high school? Your body felt incredibly soft, realizing that high school was almost ten years ago.
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