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wystericwoes · 5 months ago

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Stress relief-

Even pros need coping mechanisms.

Pro Hero Bakugo x Reader

Warnings: Sex, Cursing, catching feelings but in denial, being used for sex but not really, there will be a part 2

Mostly GN reader but a lot of fem references... especially in the smut part

While mistakes weren’t often, even Bakugo was still human. And when he fucked up, the whole office felt the ripple effect of his fury.

His friend and by happenstance, neighbor Denki, would sometimes stop on by for a visit or for a hero collaboration; and happened to walk in on one of these moments.

“Yo! Katsu-“

He narrowly dodged a stapler flung past his head.

“DAMMIT! SHIT!”

He took in the scene in front of him. Interns and secretary’s hiding out of Dynamights rampage followed by a path of office supply themed destruction.

He rushed up to him to try and calm him down before he accidentally injured someone and got a lawsuit.

“Woah! Dude! What’s going on?”

“THAT SLIPPERY FUCKER GOT AWAY!”

“Uh… who??”

“THAT SLIMY SWAMP RAT LIZARD VILLAIN THATS BEEN RUNNING AROUND!”

Denki managed to slightly grab him by the shoulders and pull him into a private break room to separate him from the innocent bystanders, closing the door and blocking the handle.

“Dude you gotta chill out! You’re gonna hurt someone!”

It had been a long road for Bakugo and his anger issues. He had come a long way since his youth, and Denki had witnessed most of the growth first hand. And he knew how dangerous he could be when he got like this.

He took a deep breath beneath furrowed brows and aggressively plopped into a seat.

Denki sat across from him, sliding him a bottle of water.

“Alright you wanna tell me what happened?”

Bakugo chugged the bottle before slamming it onto the ground.

“This stupid fucking bank robber keeps terrorizing MY NEIGHBORHOOD and he’s been getting away every single time! I feel fucking useless! And all because of his stupid reptile bullshit quirk! How can I can I ever be number one if I can’t take down a SINGLE PETTY CRIMINAL ON MY BLOCK?!”

Denki took a deep sigh.

“Look man, I get it, but you’re taking it out on your agency and they don’t deserve it.”

Bakugo slouched back and crossed his arms, brows furrowed and teeth grit.

“You gotta find some kind of stress relief before you kill someone dude! You have any hobbies?”

“Work is my hobby. And I somehow still keep fucking up at it!”

“Well I mean something outside of work- when I get over stressed from work I always just go fuck around.”

“You’re a sleaze bag.”

“Look I’m just saying, when was the last time you got laid?”

He sat in contemplation for a dull moment… Bakugo was no virgin, but no playboy either. He just never really had the time or interest. He didn’t like people, and most everyone knew him at this point. Too many gold diggers or secret journalists trying to make him into a marketable tabloid.

“See there’s your issue. You gotta go get out there dude!”

He tched.

“I don’t have the time.”

“Katsuki. We both know that’s bullshit.” He grinned

“I’m just not into anyone right now.”

Denki dragged out a long groan. “Ughhhhh! Please don’t tell me you’re still limiting yourself with your stupidly high standards.”

“All I want is someone who’s hot and has a head on their fucking shoulders. If I wanted to fuck a brainless meaningless hole I’d get a sex doll.”

“So you’re seriously trying to tell me that there’s not a single woman you’ve found pretty and had interesting conversation with?”

He went back into thought. And to his frustration, someone did pop up. The cute little tea shop owner he started to become a regular too a few months ago.

It was so secluded and special, and so precious compared to the rest of the shit hole of a part of town that it was in.

He found it completely on accident, following a string of crimes which led him questioning the locals.

When he entered the secret oasis where that bell rung as he stepped foot in pushing the door open, he was almost awestruck. It was no bigger than a single room, but it was so beautifully laid out and decorated. You could tell that whoever owned it really loved it, like it was their pride and joy. Plants strewn across the walls and little vases on each table, you could tell they were all thoughtfully and meticulously taken care of. The water fresh, the leaves healthy. Atop the windows were hanging glass decorations, causing rainbows to speckle across the walls of strewn art and paintings. It looked magical, he could spend all day in here.

“O-oh hello!!” You rushed out a door behind the counter, messily tying your apron.

“I wasn’t expecting customers this early on a Tuesday haha… what can I get for you?”

He was dumbfounded. Between the lighting framing your face and the scenery around him, he felt so at peace.

“I-“

He found himself almost speechless. He felt like he walked into a magic secret garden, walked through a door to a different world. Especially with how ugly the outside was. Guess you could only afford to live in the poor part of town.

“I’ll uh… take a coffee.”

You tied your hair back swiftly as you worked your way to the espresso machine.

“Alrighty!” You began working your way around the station and whipping something up.

He looked around a little more before settling into a chair and watched as you worked behind the counter. It wasn’t until he saw you pouring something into a cup that he realized he never told you specifically what to make.

He almost spoke up until you started strutting over with a cup of something that smelled amazing towards his way.

“I took a lucky guess. Go ahead and try!”

You placed it in front of him and watched intently as he reluctantly smelled the mystery drink, and took a sip.

His eyes slightly widened, and he downed the whole thing in one go, not even caring that it burned.

“Careful that’s still hot-!”

But he was done before you could protest.

“Are you okay?!”

“…I’ll take another.” He embarrassingly wiped his mouth and looked away.

You sighed in relief and then started laughing.

“You scared me! How did you not get hurt?”

“How did you make a drink so damn good without knowing me?”

He sounded almost accusatory.

“Ah..! Well…” you shyly looked away.

“You a stalker or somethin’?”

“What! No!! I just got a good read on you. Do… you want me to share?”

He looked at you blankly, his signal of approval to continue, but his piercing gaze made you nervous.

“Okay see I noticed that when you came in up you looked in a hurry so I decided to make something that wouldn’t take too long… Then when you just said ‘coffee’ I knew you didn’t have anything particular in mind. Which either meant you didn’t know yet or didn’t actually come in here for coffee… so I knew it had to be something simple. But you didn’t seem quite like the type to just like plain black coffee, weirdly enough, I figured you were more complex than that! But I also could tell you wouldn’t want something overly sweet. So I went with a dark chocolate mocha extra half shot of espresso, for a semisweet yet strong mix, and then I added a touch of cinnamon for some subtle spice and extra flavor…’

You nervously fiddled with the hem of your apron. You knew it was unprofessional and risky to make something without someone asking.

“Well fuck me…”

It was just surprise after surprise. He had even forgotten why he had come in here.

“So… you said you want another?”

And thus begun his frequent ship to your small business. He went in at least twice a week, and he always tipped twice whatever he paid. You two had so many conversations and funny stories shared between the two of you. It became a part of his routine, one that was private and special to him. You were so tucked away and secret; it was like he had you all to himself. No one else worked there, and he hardly saw any other customers. And even when he did, you always gave him special treatment. You’d chat at his table, let him try new pastries, sit and listen to him talk about his day for much longer than you should. Yet somehow… he had never considered sleeping with you.

In his own daze remembering you, he forgot his idiot friend was there, smugly grinning with raised brows.

“Sounds like you thought of someone…”

“Shut up! What the hell are you even doing here?! Go back to your own damn building!”

“So I was right!!”

“Fuck off!!!” He threw the finger as Denki walked out laughing triumphantly.

Fucking idiot. What does he know? He didn’t see you like that anyway. It wasn’t like he didn’t think you weren’t attractive… he just didn’t think you deserved to be nothing but a one night stand. But also… he did have a point.

He took a deep frustrated sigh as he rubbed the crease of his brows.

“…fuck it.”

You were counting the cash in your register as that familiar sound of the bell dung.

“Sorry we’re cl- oh!”

You looked up to see it was just Dynamight.

“It’s just you! Haha… sorry, I close early because of the crime recently. Come on in! Just your usual?”

“I’m not here to order anything.”

“Oh… is everything okay?”

“It’s fine.”

He seemed colder than usual; and it made you nervous. An awkward silence followed by prolonged eye contact, until he slowly walked up to the counter where you were counting, causing you to freeze.

“Do you wanna go out sometime?”

“F-fuck!!” The pro hero was buried between your thighs on his king sized bed, gripping your hips like his life depended on it.

You bit your hand as the other tried not to grab to harshly in his hair.

“Hah… hah…. I- Bakugo…mmngh!”

You squeezed your thighs around him after your second orgasm of the night, pitifully moaning and whimpering as he lapped everything you had to give up.

He came up and pulled your hand from your mouth.

“Why do you keep trying to stay quiet? It’s just the two of us.”

“I’m just… hah… embarrassed..”

You didn’t know how to feel having sex with one of your regulars after one date.. how were you going to go to work and look him in the eyes after this?? Have you no decorum?

“I’m just.. worried that you’ll stop coming to my shop after this…”

He gave you a perplexed look.

“The hell you talkin’ about?”

“W-well now that we’ve…”

“You think I was just trying to fuck you or somethin?? Like I’m some kind of fuck boy?”

He looked angry.

“No! I just… it seems kinda hard to stay professional with a customer after doing this.”

“You’re a fucking idiot if you think I’m gonna stop coming to your shop just cause we slept together once.”

He crawled upwards to you and held your face.

“I just worry-“

He pulled you in for a kiss to shut you up. It was messy but coordinated, you heard a grunt in the back of his throat as his hardened cock pressed against between your legs.

“You worry to much, you’re stressing me out. Just relax.”

You moaned as he pulled away and nodded. Totally at his mercy.

“Are you ready?” He slid his boxers down.

“Fuck yes.”

He smirked,

“That’s the first I’ve heard you curse.”

Before you could protest he kissed you again. It was sloppy, and full of yearning. He rubbed his cock between your folds, letting the tip rest at your entrance for a brief moment as he pulled his face back and grabbed your hips.

You couldn’t bite back your moans as he slid himself into you. A perfect fucking fit, the stretch burned in such a good way, and hearing his pants as his rested inside you for a brief moment, just basking in the moment.

He moved one hand back to your though and pushed it back, letting himself get a good look of himself fully inside you.

He cursed under his breath. you reached down to rub your clit but he grabbed your wrist and placed it above your head, moving his other hand to do it for you.

“You think I can’t do this?”

He started slowly rubbing circles into you with the rythym of careful thrusts. Each one was experimental, testing the waters of what you could handle.

You two were so in sync it drove you crazy. You subtly thrusted your hips into him, feeling his pubes tickle you each time he bottomed out. He was darker blonde down there, following a gorgeous happy trail that made you drool.

He released his grip from your wrist and held onto your hips so he could steadily increase his pace.

“F-fuck… Bakugo….!”

“Call me fucking… hng… Katsuki.”

You fluttered around him when he said that, making him bite his lip.

“Don’t… fucking do that…”

“Sorry Katsuki..”

Oh you knew what you were doing. And it was taking him all his willpower to not fuck you as hard as he could right now.

He put his hand over your mouth which made you whimper, he decided to fuck you hard but slow, and each time he thrusted you moaned.

You bit his hand, he hissed in pain and watched as you moved it down to your throat.

“Didn’t take you for, a brat.”

“Mm… didn’t take you… as a- sadist-! Ah!” He started going faster with his pace.

“So you wanted this then huh? Acting all fucking innocent..”

He started squeezing on the sides causing you to go lightheaded in the best way.

“For so… hah!! Long! Mng… I’m still surprised you chose me..!”

“Don’t talk like a fucking- idiot- hnn.. youre fucking sexy”

“Mmn! You’re so fucking.. hot.. Katsu…”

He growled at the nickname, whether it was intentional or not.

“Don’t hold back… I can… I can take it.”

You moaned into his ear, knowing he wasn’t going all out yet.

Cursing under his breath he switched both his hands underneath your thighs and put your legs over his shoulders, and he did what you asked. He didn’t hold back.

You couldn’t even think straight. You couldn’t form a coherent thought, it was nothing except him fucking you ruthlessly. His tip kissed your cervix causing a good pain, reaching the deepest parts of you.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! F-fuck!”

Your moans were endless. Blending in seamlessly with his grunts and pants. He wasn’t very vocal, but you enjoyed his sounds nonetheless.

The sounds were filithy, you could feel your wetness leaking out onto his sheets and every noise between the two of you. Nothing else existed outside this moment.

You were in a pleasurable trance that was suddenly cut off as he flipped you over onto your stomach; pinning your wrists behind your back as he fucked you even harder from behind.

The sight of your ass smacking against him and your hands pinned against your back drove him fucking wild. He reached his head down and started biting on your shoulders to hold himself back, your whimper from the pain only made it worse though.

“Mm! Ah! Ah! K-katsu..ki!!”

He growled in frustration, feeling an odd sense of possessiveness every time you said his name.

“M’ gonna mark you up, and fuck you so good you’ll never forget it…”

He started leaving a crude trail of hickeys and bite marks across your shoulders and neck.

“Mmn! Kat- Katsuki…l-let me…-!”

You started to roll over, wanting to see his face, he caught on and picked you up turning you around without leaving inside you, placing you on his lap as he sat upright against the headboard.

“Think you can fuckin ride me baby?”

You whimpered at the name, placing your hands on his shoulders as you started to move up and down. Your pace was no where near as controlled and fast as Katsukis, but neither of you were complaining.

You started to get faster and faster as you felt his dick press up against your sweet spot, desperately chasing that sensation. He could see what you were trying to do as he started or fuck himself up into you, getting a hold of your hips and taking charge.

“Couldn’t take it huh?”

“Sh-shut up… you didn’t give me a chance!”

“I saw how needy you were getting. Just let me take control yeah?”

You dropped your face into his neck, biting the nape to suppress your moans as he started fucking you faster.

You stayed like that for a moment before you started to get close and moved your fingers to rub against your clit, once again he shoved your hand away and took it over.

“What did I hah.. say… before?”

You only moaned in response, gripping one hand onto the nape of his neck and the other onto his chest like you were scared of falling.

He wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you in closer, rubbing frantic yet gentle circles on your clit while repeatedly hitting your g-spot.

“K-katsu…ki! I can’t.. I-I’m gonna…!”

He fucked you as fast as he could so he would cum at the same time as you.

“Do it…”

He groaned one last time in your ear and it sent you over the edge, he fucked you through your orgasm until your body was shaking, and then he bottomed out one last time.

“F-fuck…!” He moaned out as you felt his dick twitch as he finished inside you.

Both of you sat there still, the adrenaline winding down as you both breathed heavily, basking in the afterglow and silence for a moment before you pulled him closer into an intimate hug.

The silence was comfortable, and part of you both wish you never had to leave.

“Mm.. could go t’ sleep like this..”

“Could you now?”

“Mhm.” Your body fell limp into his.

“We should probably use the bathroom first.”

“Mm. Probably.”

“Mm… Yes. Cmon”

You groaned as he pulled out slowly, all the slick between the two of you pooling into a sinfully delicious mix under you.

You squealed as he lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom bridal style.

“H-hey!”

“Im not letting you get a UTI. Go piss and then we’ll hop in the shower. I hate sleeping in sweat.”

“Ugh you’re no fun.”

You reluctantly left his arms to go use the toilet, knowing he was right.

You rested asleep on his chest, as he gazed at the ceiling, listening to the lull of cars outside the window and the sound of your rhythmic breathing. He had one arm lazily strewn over your back, and the other under his head.

He looked down at your sleeping form, and felt something unfamiliar within him… something sentimental, caring, protective.

He slowly and carefully rolled down the sheet to reveal the marks he left on your body and smirked. Closing his eyes and drifting off.

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha x reader #smut #mha fanfiction #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha

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underwatertreadmill · 8 months ago

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mahowaga · 14 days ago

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THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT FOR THE BEAU IDÉAL OF IDIOCY | N.K. — INTERLUDE III

SUMMARY: you're supposed to be in the stands, eating snacks and talking strategy with your friends, enjoying watching the three champions battle for the triwizard cup. you're not supposed to be entangled in what seems to be your own personal (hell) triwizard tournament.

PAIRING: ravenclaw!nanami kento x hufflepuff!fem!reader | best boy gojo satoru, insufferable asshole fushiguro toji GENRE: hp x jjk au, (friends who are) idiots to lovers, romance, fluff, crack, profanity PLAYLIST: the course of true love never did run smooth WC: 6.4k WARNINGS: one (1) assault via vinegar, insinuations of being a playboy, very poor attempts at humor

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— INTERLUDE III: THE SEQUEL OF FUSHIGURO AND THE ONSLAUGHT OF MISFORTUNE (CONDIMENTS) THAT INEVITABLY FOLLOWS

(Once again, you extend your utmost gratitude to Fushiguro Toji for being the sole sponsor behind the upcoming grand event that is you and Kento. That doesn’t mean you want to see the former’s face ever again - not if you can help it. Unfortunately for you, the both of you attend the same school and are forced to attend several classes together, making your dreams of pretending there isn’t a magical asshole named Toji roaming around completely unachievable. Still, you like to think that several attempts were made on your part despite the odds of success being nil.)

Yet another class in Classroom 4F drags on for what seems like an entire day, but Kento helpfully reminds you that it’s only been fifty-five minutes, you still have five more minutes, and it’s still very early in the morning. You groan in your seat and rub at your bleary eyes. You’re barely awake - Haibara had to smack you upside the head to get you to open your eyes during breakfast. (Whoever decided that History of Magic is a great idea to be the first class of the day on Mondays deserves to be waterboarded.)

The only pro about today’s class is that Kento is sitting next to you, your shoulders brushing together, neither wanting to move away, content with the warmth being shared. It makes you sneak glances at him every minute - the way his soft blonde hair shines in the fractured beams of sunlight from the glass window, the sharp curve of his jaw, the way his lips are pursed in concentration as he listens to the professor drone on about the history of Gringotts.

When you look at him for the tenth time in two minutes, he’s already looking at you with his lips curled into a smile. You panic, trying to justify yourself while also attempting to look away as nonchalantly as possible - the end product: babbling incoherently as you look from side to side, sweat beading at your temples.

Kento, for his part, simply seems amused. In fact, there’s something incredibly soft about the way he’s looking at you right now that makes your heart ache. It’s something that’s been there ever since that night you kissed his cheek by the barrels (or maybe it’s been there for a while and you’ve just overlooked it, because that would mean it was real and not in your imagination).

You give up on trying to explain why you’re drooling over him during class and bend your head at a ninety degree angle, staring intently at your textbook. The words make no sense to you (because, really, who’s paying attention to the history behind the wizarding bank?) but it’s a welcome oasis of letters to distract from the burning gaze of the boy next to you.

“Is there something on my face?” he whispers, poking you with his quill.

You jolt, and your face flushes as a result, but you’re used to it now. You’ve accepted that you’re always going to blush when he’s around you. It’s simply his charm. (And your big fat crush on him-)

“What? No,” you hiss back, elbowing him. You hope he doesn’t notice your red cheeks. That would be extremely embarrassing. Actually, you hope the professor doesn’t notice it either, because that would be way worse. (The professor would ask, What about Gringotts makes you blush? and you would melt into a puddle of shame and adrenaline.)

He chuckles quietly, then turns back to the blackboard at the front of the class just as the professor waves his wand to wipe the board clean. (About time.)

As class is dismissed, you stack your books and nestle them into the crook of your elbow. Kento’s doing the same thing, although he’s somehow more efficient than you are. (He’s so perfect.)

He glances at the clock on the wall, sighing. “I’ve got to go get some stuff ready for the Ball,” he says, regret knotted in his tone. His eyes lock with yours. “I’ll see you later?”

You bite your lip. If you hadn’t already mentally prepared yourself for this conversation last night you would’ve already hyperventilated and collapsed onto the ground. Actually, with the way he’s looking at you right now, you’re worried your preparation is for naught. His eyes always have a way of disarming you, of wiping your memories clean, of overriding any common sense you might (not) have.

Stay strong.

You nod, a little too quickly. If Haibara hadn’t forced you to eat breakfast it would’ve caused you to get dizzy. That could’ve been terrible.

“Of course,” you reply. “Same time and place?”

This makes him smile. “Yeah.” He leans close and whispers, “Don’t get stuck in any stairs,” before pecking you on your cheek.

Oh, you feel like you’re about to short-circuit. You feel like you’ve just touched a live wire. Is this how he felt the other night? If it is, well then, you’ll have to do it more often. Hell, you wouldn’t mind if he does it more often.

He’s bold.

You want to shudder, not from disgust - absolutely not, but from the electric shock of his soft lips on your cheek. (You look like a cherry tomato, you just know it.)

If Kento notices you glitching, he doesn’t mention it (thank goodness). He simply touches your arm with a smile and makes his way to the exit, leaving you standing there with a warm heart that’s pumping at a million miles an hour, probably close to exploding, and a lingering thought that your theory is right and he does like you. You really weren’t making things up. You have solid proof.

You’re not delusional!

Once you’ve pulled yourself together (only externally - internally your thoughts are scattered, the stubborn one at the forefront being that Nanami Kento just kissed you on the cheek and asked to see you later when there’s really no reason for you to have to meet at the music room anymore unless it’s to dilly-dally like you’ve been doing the past few days instead of practicing the waltz) you leave the now empty classroom and start to make your way to the Hufflepuff common room. You haven’t got any more classes until later this evening, so you’re probably going to do the logical thing and, what, study? No, actually. You’re going to take a nice long nap at the dorms.

Alas, you’ve drawn the short end of the stick today when it comes to luck.

Someone falls into step beside you as soon as you exit the classroom. A single glance to your right reveals a tall, lanky figure that’s more leg than anything else and a tuft of distinct unkempt snowy-white hair that only one student in the entirety of Hogwarts has - Gojo Satoru. (Was this guy literally just idling outside the classroom, waiting for you to come out? He must really want something from you. Not to mention that he’s probably the reason people put up No Loitering signage.)

You don’t say anything. Maybe if you ignore Slytherin’s prized seeker he’ll go away. After all, whenever Satoru seeks (haha, get it?) someone out, it’s usually for some mischief that you are both bound to get in trouble for. You are not about to be coerced by Satoru into graffitiing a play on words of a student’s name on the walls again.

You’d learned your lesson last time.

For context, Satoru had pushed a can of white spray paint into your hands back in Year Three and had told you to help him ‘decorate’ the walls of the Entrance Hall. (It did not help that Satoru was insanely charismatic and you were twelve years old and looking for attention from boys.) You’d only realized halfway through adding the highlights to the letters he’d written that he was making fun of none other than Fushiguro Toji. According to Satoru, Toji had made fun of him - something about him being a blue-eyed freak - and so, naturally, the latter decided to humiliate Toji’s insufferable self while roping you, a friendly and innocent Hufflepuff, into being his accomplice. (Why he decided you were perfect for the job you’ll never find out.) To cut a long story short, word on the streets was that Toji’s guilty pleasure was fish and chips and, well, that’s how Fishiguro (and) Tochips was birthed.

Yeah, not your finest moment, although at the time, Satoru’s bright smile drowned out the ringing horror in your chest - what would Toji would do if he figured out it was you guys? (He never found out. That secret will be kept under lock and key until the day you die.)

But anyways, don’t you see? That’s all the more reason to keep Satoru at arm’s length. And if that’s not reason enough, you have another cause for not engaging with the notorious troublemaker.

Nanami Kento.

You like Kento. He likes you. He’s also the Head Boy. If you get yourself into some woeful predicament you’ll be dragged down to the Headmaster’s office, where all the faculty staff and the Head Boy and Girl have gathered, and look him in the eye and fess up. That’s a nightmare that you’re locking away into the recesses of your mind, because you’re afraid you’ll manifest it into reality if you stress about it continuously, and right now, you cannot take any risks.

“Are you ignoring me, Captain?”

You stop walking and turn to him. He’s looking at you with that lazy grin of his, enjoying just how vigilant you are whenever he’s around. “No, but I’m not in the mood for whatever plan you’ve cooked up in that brain of yours,” you huff, before turning on your heel with a roll of your eyes. (He’d better take the hint and stop following you.)

Newsflash: he doesn’t.

He jogs to catch up to you, though he doesn’t need to - two strides and he’d be ahead of you with those long spider-like legs. “Come on,” he drawls, “don’t be like that. I’m here in peace.”

A scoff escapes your lips. “In peace, huh?” you ask, skeptical. “What, did you come to ask me about our next match?”

He grins. “You think Slytherin’s going to lose?”

You shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye. Typical Satoru. “Cocky as ever, I see,” you mutter.

“I’m the seeker for a reason,” he says with a shrug, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I’ve got a spotless record.”

You groan. He’s always so self-assured with himself that it grates on your nerves most days. And yet, you can’t find it in you to dislike him the way you do with Toji.

“Sure,” you say, nodding in agreement. You descend the stairs to the kitchens, mindful of the Forbidden Step, and Satoru is right behind you. “Except for the two times we beat you with points even after you caught the snitch.”

He frowns. “We don’t talk about that.”

You both pause on the stairs, your hand on the banister for balance, and look at each other for a full five seconds in utter seriousness before bursting into a fit of laughter.

Continuing your commute to the common room, you gather yourself, though a smile is playing on your lips at how audacious he is. It’s one of the things you’ve always liked about Satoru. He’s entertaining in all the right ways, even if he can be a gremlin of sorts sometimes.

“So. What do you want?” you ask.

He’s silent for a moment, a step behind you so that you can’t immediately see what his face looks like. If Satoru is quiet, it means he really is being serious. You’re curious as to what could actually make him think twice about his words.

When you reach the end of the staircase a few minutes later, he still hasn’t told you what’s on his mind. You turn around, your interest reasonably piqued, and raise a brow in anticipation.

He slaps that carefree smile onto his face, his eyes like twin reflecting pools of his emotions, though you wish you knew him well enough to tell what he’s thinking.

“Well, Captain,” he says slowly, inching towards you, a hand on the back of his neck, his eyes darting hither and thither, anywhere but on yours.

Did he do something?

“I was wondering if you’d like to go to the Yule Ball with me.”

You feel like all the wind has been knocked out of you. Gojo Satoru’s asking you to the Ball? Did he take a bet or something?

You tilt your head to the side, doubt suddenly filling the cavities inside your body. You blink at him wordlessly, unsure of what he’s just said, if you’re imagining things, if you heard him properly-

Satoru holds his hands out in a placating gesture. “Don’t make it a thing,” he says, wincing at your reaction, or lack thereof. “Like, come on. The two most talented quidditch players going together? It’ll have everyone’s jaws on the ground. Plus, after the last two games - you versus Gryffindor and us versus Ravenclaw, the other schools are bound to have their eyes on us.”

He’s asking you because he wants to be a part of a power couple.

Can’t say you blame him. It is tempting. Still, you’re not convinced that this is what Gojo Satoru wants with you. Knowing him, there’s got to be a twist to this somewhere.

He notices your knitted brows and narrowed eyes. You don’t get to voice your concern before he’s back in action.

“It’s not because of Fushiguro.” He presses his lips into a thin line at the name, shaking his head. “He rejected tons of others besides you and you know it. Do you see me asking them out?”

“You did ask that girl from Beauxbatons-”

He waves you off. “That’s different,” he hisses, a blush creeping up his neck. “She wasn’t one of Toji’s targets.” He takes a deep breath and places his hands on your shoulders. “Look, we could make a statement and hey, maybe because of our performances on the field they’ll put in a good word for us to get into the national team.”

Oh, to get into the national team. You’ve dreamt about it ever since you picked up a broomstick in Year One. The thought of being a national player is so enticing to you that you almost give in to Satoru’s plea. He’s the first person you’ve ever told about wanting to become a professional at quidditch. (Coincidentally, this was during your graffiti artist era with him, which you now realize was also kind of a bonding activity between the two of you.) You’re touched that he remembers, given his reputation of being frivolous.

You exhale heavily. “You are insufferable,” you whine. He’s like the snake who tempted Eve, dangling opportunity and hope in front of you, waiting for you to bite.

Satoru seems pleased with your statement and steps back, removing his hands and crossing them against his chest instead. “Love to hear it,” he says, smiling. “Now, be my date?”

Great. Rejecting him is going to be tough. (Is this what it’s like to be Toji?)

You shake your head and give him an awkward lop-sided smile. As alluring as his offer is, you already have a date whom you are completely head-over-heels for. (Although, now that you think about it, Kento would absolutely tell you to go with Satoru if it meant bagging a potential spot in the national team, but you’re not going to do that, obviously.)

“I can’t, Satoru.” You have to force it out - the mere thought of letting him down is eating at you inside, but you can’t just ditch Kento. Not when Kento had already asked you (it’s up for debate) to be his date ages ago. Not to mention the fact that you genuinely do want to go to the Yule Ball with him and it’s that singular thought that’s what has been motivating you to get through your classes for the past few weeks.

You hold your breath and brace yourself for Satoru’s inevitable puppy-dog eyes and droopy demeanor - maybe even a stray tear - but it doesn’t come.

Instead, he looks incredibly excited. “You already have a date?” he asks brightly, leaning forward, his blue eyes shining. He’s in no way as distraught as you expected him to be. (You’re disappointed - just a little. Maybe one day you’ll experience what it feels like to be a heartbreaker. A heartthrob. But not today, and definitely not with Satoru, apparently.) He’s pulled a complete one-eighty on you. In fact, he seems like he’s ready to tease you. (Could your luck get any worse?)

There’s no getting out of this. But at least Satoru is taking the rejection well, right? You’d rather have him pry about who your date is than see him have a meltdown in the kitchen corridor. A win is a win.

You sigh deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Come on, who is it?” Satoru pushes. He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. (Where does he get all his energy from? Changing his mood that fast cannot be an easy feat.)

You go to answer him, feeling your cheeks burning, but before you can get a single word out you’re cut off by someone who isn’t Satoru.

“Yeah, who?”

You and Satoru exchange a glance before turning around slowly, brows furrowed.

Your heart drops when your eyes catch on the unwelcome intruder, and it feels similar to the way you freeze when someone accidentally knocks a glass vase off of a table and it shatters into a million shards on the white tile.

“Fushiguro?” you both say at the same time.

(“Listen,” you want to say, mimicking the exact intonation Toji had used on you that day at the Great Hall when you’d (foolishly) asked him out to the Yule Ball, “I don’t know what makes you think you can just, I don’t know, walk up to me and start talking, but I think you should walk away while I’m still being nice.”

Oh, the thought of repeating his words right back to him; it fills you with such exhilaration that for one fleeting moment you almost give in to your urges - but you don’t do anything of the sort, even if seeing his face twist into an expression of utter consternation at your audacity is incredibly tempting.

This is solely because you value your life and the very intact two hundred-and-six bones in your body. Fushiguro Toji is no stranger to whipping out his wand and casting a hex on some poor soul. You would hate to be the poor soul in question, considering how many lovely things you’ve got going for yourself currently.

Plus, you’re not very sure Kento would want to attend the ball with a date whose legs have been turned to jelly.)

You have to play this smart. Toji is like a ticking time bomb - you never know what will set him off. The fact that he’s in the kitchen corridor when the Slytherin common room is nowhere near here has to mean one of three things: A) he came here looking for you (unlikely), B) he came here looking for Satoru (likely) or C) he came here to visit the kitchens (you’re on the fence about this one - Toji doesn’t seem the type to socialize with house-elves).

Toji shrugs at the two of you. “You two seem surprised to see me.”

“Because we are.” Satoru is just as confused as you are, and he’s clinging to your arm - whether to protect you or himself, you aren’t sure, but his grip is like iron. You’re going to have his handprint tattooed onto your bicep for the next five days if he doesn’t let go immediately.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you look at the dark-haired boy standing in front of you, the very one who had called you a slur in front of the whole school weeks ago. You’re not even mad about him turning you down, or insulting your tie (deserved) or even feeling like you were clickbaited after your interaction with him during Potions. No, the one thing that fills you with rage is that he’d called you a Mudblood.

And now he has the gall to come down here and inquire about your date to the Ball after he’d so crassly made sure you knew he wasn’t in any way interested about anything regarding the likes of you.

Oh, the hypocrisy fills you with a rage that turns your vision into a swimming ocean of crimson.

Your right hand - the one Satoru is not currently hanging onto - clenches, but you keep your face passive. You’re not letting Toji know he’s getting to you.

His gaze is trained on you, those dark eyes resembling a black hole where all hope goes to die, and he crosses his arms, shifting his stance.

What does he want from me?

“What’s this I hear about you having a date?” he asks, jerking his head up in question.

You bite back a curse. Your blood is boiling, you’re seeing nothing but his face framed with red, and your hand is shaking violently, wanting permission to let loose and sock him in his pristine, pureblooded face.

Satoru cocks his head, plastering on an unbothered grin. (He’s still holding your arm like a damsel in distress.) “Where did you hear that from?” he asks, raising a brow. “Did you get your intel just now?”

Toji’s eyes snap to the white-haired boy, sneering. “Shut up, Gojo,” he hisses. His tone is so severe that both you and Satoru flinch. You’re surprised Satoru isn’t being more impudent towards his fellow Slytherin. Usually by now the former would have already roasted Toji to hell and back. He’s holding back.

“This is between me and the-”

“You heard right,” you say, cutting Toji off. If you could bare your teeth without looking like a baby trying to navigate the sensation of newly emerged teeth, you would - if only to add to your disdain towards him. “I have a date, okay? Why does it matter?”

It’s silent for a moment, and you think you’ve gained the upper hand. Satoru pats your arm comfortingly.

The corner of your lip twitches at Toji’s widened eyes, his raised brows. Maybe now he’ll realize how absolutely out of line he is and back off - he’ll remember the barrier he constructed between the two of you and find out why-

“Because you should be going with me.”

Satoru has a coughing fit and has to hit his chest with his fist. (He finally lets you go.)

You’re so appalled that you can’t even react properly. If your anger was a flower bud in your chest cavity, it blooms now, locking you in place while it spreads to every nook and cranny inside of you, warming you right to the core.

You didn’t want to have to do this, but you think you’re going to have to grab Fushiguro Toji by the collar and fling him into the Great Lake, because he cannot be serious right now. He has to be joking.

That’s right. This is all just some elaborate gag he’s cooked up to get you back for Kento taking points away from Slytherin. It has to be.

Your nose crinkles at the thought.

Satoru peers at you from the edge of your vision and then steps forward, holding his hands out to his classmate. “Slow down, Fushiguro. Are we forgetting the little show you put on back when she asked you out?”

Toji, who seems upset that you haven’t responded to him (or maybe he’s just upset that Satoru’s still talking after being told to shut up), exhales sharply. He shoves Satoru to the side, making the latter stumble on the marble floor and scoff indignantly. “Stay out of this, Gojo,” he growls, his hands turning to fists. “Go run along and charm the girls’s skirts off or something.”

You cringe at the implication and look at Satoru, who presses his lips into a thin line. His grin is gone. Toji must have hit a sore spot. (For what it’s worth, you’ve never really thought Satoru is as big of a player as Toji’s making it seem. You’ll tell him later.)

Seeing his smile vanish from his face, and Satoru’s lips are always perpetually lifted, you realize that you need to handle this once and for all. Toji should have kept his sights on you and you alone, but the fact that he went out of his way to insult your friend, too? You’re not letting it slide.

Justice will be served.

You glance to your left. The Hufflepuff common room is right there. The barrels are a couple of feet away.

A plan begins to form in your head. It’s admittedly not your best plan, and probably one that’s getting you sent to the Headmaster’s office, but it’s got a solid foundation and you know it’s going to work.

You take a deep breath and assess the situation:

Toji has asked you to the Yule Ball. (Asked is a stretch. He’s telling you.)

Toji has insinuated that all Satoru does is sleep around. (Unacceptable. And false.)

Toji is now stepping towards you, which is defeating everything he’s ever said about you - to quote him directly, ‘I hate interacting with your kind�� - and he’s rolling his neck and he’s leering at you and you’re almost positive he’s about to wring you by the neck if you don’t tell him you’re going to accept his kind invitation to the Ball.

You know what you have to do.

You steel yourself against the inevitable wave that will crash down upon you after you speak, cursing your gut for churning in protest and your legs for suddenly pretending you have no bones at all.

Here goes nothing.

“Satoru is right,” you say evenly, squaring your shoulders. Toji towers over you, meeting your gaze, and you notice an almost imperceptible shift in his face - doubt? Astonishment? “I’m not going with you. Not after what you said then, and definitely not what you’ve just said, either.”

He’s staring into your soul, searching for something you’re not sure he’s going to find. He must be looking for some form of deceit in your words, but little does he know that you don’t lie. Not anymore. You’re an honest Hufflepuff. (The changes Kento’s inspired in you are numerous, and this one in particular is a hard-hitter.)

His eyebrows draw together slightly, but he doesn’t let anything else show. He has great control over his expressions. You admire him for it. “Who are you going with?” he asks quietly, completely skipping over your reasoning as to why you don’t want to be his date.

You look at Satoru, who is leaning against the wall opposite to you. He raises his brows - still as nosy as ever.

“Fine,” you sigh. Since Toji wants to know so badly, you’ll tell him. Maybe then he’ll leave you alone. “I’m going with Kento. Now, please leave.”

You put your hand on Toji’s shoulder and push him back before turning on your heel and walking towards the entrance to the common room. You’re not going to wait around to see his reaction. (Plus, you need to get to the barrels to enact your plan for justness.)

You hear a scoff (Toji), followed by a laugh (Satoru).

“Nanami?” You’ve never heard the name spoken with such scorn. It irritates you, but you maintain your facade of indifference and keep your back turned.

Toji doesn’t let it go.

“Head Boy Nanami?” he asks again, lacing the words with such hatred that it makes the air around you thick and heavy with it, settling on your shoulders.

You hear a snicker from Satoru, followed by, “How many Nanamis do you know?”

Footsteps. His footsteps. Getting closer to you.

Your heart thumps in your chest, threatening to jump ship if this genius plan of yours fails.

No, it’ll work. He just needs to be in position.

You pivot just in time to see Toji inches away from you, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. You nearly jump at the closeness. This is some serious business to him, it seems.

Satoru quickly saunters over to your side, but not before poking Toji’s cheek and earning himself a snarl. (He’s lucky that’s all he got, too, because it could’ve been so much worse considering Toji’s already riled up about you being Kento’s date.)

You don’t understand this boy. You thought you’d caught a glimpse of the real him that day during Potions, but it looks like he really had just taken some of the liquid luck he’d brewed and was just unusually giddy. (For the longest time, you wanted to believe that that was really his true personality shining through, but it looks like the truth is just a hard pill to swallow.) So much for having faith in a guy.

Toji continues to mumble about Kento as you inch closer to the barrels. You tune him out, but when he begins to get into the semantics of blood purity, you already know what’s coming.

A quick glance to your right and there’s the huge barrel embedded into the walls - the common room entrance. Your back is pressed against the dead end decorated with even more barrels - this is where you’ll tap in the code to open the door. Toji, your target, is standing right where you want him to be: right at the center of the door. The twin goblin heads that are carved into the wood, their mouths wide open in a roar, are parallel to him.

Satoru is standing next to you, silent, watching you closely. Somehow he can tell you’re up to something. At least he isn’t in the splash zone.

You reach for your wand - just in case things go south, and extend a fist towards the barrel directly next to you.

Toji is still having a tantrum of his own, but you know his eyes are on you because of the way he narrows his eyes at your drawn wand.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, taking a step closer.

No, he’s going to ruin everything if he moves from his position.

You swallow hard. Time to lie again. (May Helga Hufflepuff’s ghost forgive you.)

“Oh, I’m just going to open the door to the common room.” Technically, it’s true. “You don’t have to move.”

Toji’s too smart for that, but he gives you the benefit of the doubt and stays where he is.

Thanks a lot, buddy. That’s going to be your downfall.

You shoot Satoru a sly grin, and he immediately gets the message. He probably doesn’t know what you’re about to do, exactly, but he does get the memo loud and clear. (Silently communicated messages whilst in the vicinity of the common enemy will always be correctly received.)

You pretend to busy yourself with the barrels - you can’t set your scheme into motion with Toji staring at you like this, like he can see deep into your soul and read your mind and tell you what type of blood you have. A distraction is your best friend.

“Um.” You shift awkwardly, your wand still held out, though not directly at him anymore. It’s pointed more to his feet. At his designer shoes. (His parents must be loaded. How will they feel when their son soils his expensive shoes?) “To answer your question earlier, yes, I’m going to the Ball with Head Boy Kento. Is that a problem?”

This seems to upset him even more. You’re starting to wonder if he’s been jinxed to turn red with rage whenever Kento’s name is mentioned. (Is there even a spell for that? You have to learn it.)

He looks at you in disbelief and starts walking towards you. You gulp and laugh nervously, lifting your wand up to his chin and knocking rapidly on the barrel’s top, desperate. It is definitely not to the rhythm of ‘Helga Hufflepuff’.

“Nanami Kento is nothing but a Mudblo-”

He’s cut off by a stream of liquid shot straight to his face.

You gasp, covering your mouth with your free hand. Satoru mirrors you, but he starts laughing, grabbing onto your arm.

The goblins spit vinegar at Toji like a projectile, like a water fountain - like that one statue where the little boy is peeing, but at much more lethal speeds.

It shoots into his mouth just as he’s about to say Mudblood, turning the very word into nothing but angry gargles. (It sounded something like, “Mudblo-grglglglgl!”)

It’s going up his nose and into his eyes. (Personally, you think it’s a bit harsh to blind and choke people for trespassing into the Hufflepuff common room, but maybe that’s you being nice.) He’s flailing around, trying to shout your name and cuss you out at the same time. He can’t see where he’s going, and the goblins keep churning out the sour and pungent liquid because he keeps stumbling in the same spot, going in circles, still within the blast radius.

You shouldn’t laugh. You really shouldn’t, but Satoru is doubled over, tears streaming down his face, one hand on your forearm for balance, his other hand pointing.

“I- I can’t- breathe-” Satoru chokes, watching as Toji fumbles.

Toji’s trying to speak, to gather his dignity and give the both of you a proper reckoning, but it’s hard since he’s being waterboarded by a condiment, so all you hear is his footsteps on the wet floor and his croaking and gargling.

You can’t believe your plan worked. You have to give yourself a pat on the back for that one. A smile graces your face, but it’s quickly wiped out when the sharp smell of the vinegar starts to fill up the entire corridor. Someone is going to notice, and they’re going to come looking and they’re going to find you and Satoru having the time of your lives while a poor student drowns in a cooking ingredient.

Not a good look.

Your wand is still out. There’s no way you’re going up to Toji to move him out of his current spot, although that is exactly what you should do to get the goblins to stop.

No, you’re choosing to do something even dumber.

“Wingardium leviosa!” you shout, swishing and flicking your wand at the boy.

He shouts as he is lifted off of the floor, thrashing in defiance. Your spell casting and control could use some work, seeing as how he is shaking violently in the air, but at least it gets the stream of vinegar to stop.

Satoru is of no help. In fact, Toji being airlifted off of the ground is even funnier to him. He laughs so hard and with his entire body that he knocks your arm, making you drop your wand.

There’s only silence as Toji drops onto the floor with an oomph, the liquid splashing everywhere, even getting onto the two of you huddled by the barrels. His body dropping sounds as if someone threw their noodles (which weigh ten tonnes) into the boiling broth in a fit of rage.

You cringe. Satoru presses his lips together in an attempt to control himself.

“Is he…dead?” you ask, biting your finger.

This makes Satoru giggle uncontrollably. “I- heh, I shouldn’t laugh-”

You’re about to smack him upside the head, your heart beating at a hundred miles an hour. You can’t be known for murdering a student via vinegar. Death by condiment? That would be catastrophic.

As if to make things worse - to make your worries increase tenfold - the goblins start their spouting again.

Shit. Toji got dumped in the same spot.

You press a hand to your forehead.

Now Toji just groans and rolls over onto his stomach to shield himself from the waterfall of vinegar.

You lift a shoulder and look at Satoru, who is red in the face and crying. “Maybe we can just leave him here?”

He manages to stand up straight, holding onto your shoulder. “He’s like those statues at the center of those fountains.”

You cock your head. “Except he’s ass up, face down-”

“Instead of face up, ass down,” Satoru finishes.

The boy in question grunts and growls - at the two of you or his current predicament, you’re not sure. You don’t really want to know.

You see Satoru looking at you from the corner of your eye. You already know what he’s thinking about.

“Vineguro,” the two of you say in unison.

A moment goes by where you look at each other with a straight face before it shatters and you both double over and laugh, half-choking, half-chortling.

“We should go,” he manages to say in between breaths.

You nod, standing up, still laughing. You’re not going to be able to stop any time soon. You just got Fushiguro Toji doused in vinegar and then body slammed him into the ground. One might say justice has been served - for you, Satoru and Kento and anyone else who has ever been personally victimized by the vinegar-soaked young man.

You hurriedly knock on the barrels, and the correct combo causes the goblins to stop and for the door to open. You grab your wand from the floor and rush to the door.

As the door closes, you catch a glimpse of Satoru saluting you, then grabbing the hem of his robes like a runaway bride before disappearing down the corridor, and of Toji, rolling around sluggishly on the wet floor, groaning to himself.

The moment the doors fully close, shutting you out from the rest of the castle, you let out the biggest belly laugh known to man as you slide down the door, the adrenaline pumping through your veins enhancing the sheer comedy of it all.

Kento and Haibara will love this. You’ll also probably get in trouble along with Satoru (you’re the spray-painting duo after all) but at least Toji got what he deserved. That’s good enough for you.

(When you tell Haibara, as he lounges on the plush yellow bean bag in the centre of the common room, he laughs so hard you’re afraid he’s going to die of asphyxiation. And when you tell Kento that night, as you lie on the floor of the greenhouse, looking up at the stars, he looks at you with his pupils blown wide and you wonder if he’s thinking of writing you up and sending you straight to the Hogwarts Express. But then he chuckles softly and shifts closer, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a soft kiss to your head. He murmurs something so quietly that you’re unsure of what he said, but you swear it was something along the lines of, “That’s my girl.” You ignore the way your heart threatens to go into cardiac arrest.)

A/N: thank you for reading this chapter! i hope you enjoyed this one, it's probably my favorite so far! (art by elitamasan on X)

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abbysimsfun · 10 days ago

Text

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 159 (To Catch a Time Thief)

Days after the hearing, Felix came home annoyed. Passing Emit and Angela in the dining room, he found Lilith repairing the kitchen sink. "Lex Mattingly came into the office today."

"Who?"

"He runs the firm; everyone's boss. He came out to the Britechester office, and he'd heard about the custody case. Said 'You know I don't mind when my attorneys work pro bono, but they need to win one hundred per cent of their pro bono cases.' As if I don't feel bad enough."

"You did nothing wrong, Felix," she assured him. "You're going to figure out how to get a new hearing sooner than a year, but it's only been a few days, and now you've got a few days off. Do you want to help me with the sink? I swear the Watcher keeps breaking everything around the house just to get our skill up."

They were interrupted then by Emit, who'd come to the kitchen for a snack. Angela followed close behind him. "It's good to be handy if the device malfunctions while we're travelling. What do you say we eat and then get going?"

"What happens if it glitches when were in a time with no computers?" wondered Felix, as Lilith pulled a bowl of fruit salad from the fridge.

"Power down to save battery life and wait for someone to come find you."

"How do they find us if we power down?"

"You just have to hope they're headed to the same place you are."

Despite the danger, Felix and Lilith had committed to this mission, and arranged their schedules so they could afford to be out of reach for days, if necessary. They ate and changed into suits Emit had retrieved for them from the future - official time-travelling apparel that could withstand the effects of moving through dimensions, with reflective lights to deflect fellow space-riders.

Angela wished Emit good luck and offered him a romantic kiss. "For the road," she said.

"See you soon, Angie."

Lilith shared a quick look with her mother, Mary Sue, who waited anxiously for her daughter to activate the time travelling device.

"It'll be alright, Mom. We're going to be fine. Ash's invention is going to work."

Mary Sue smiled softly. "I hope you're right."

They linked arms behind their backs, with Emit's wristboard and Felix and Lilith's device calculating their departures. Angela and Mary Sue watched in awe as a few beeps and clicks filled the room, followed by a long whirr, like a gathering windstorm. But the air was still.

"Bring back a souvenir!" Angela said with a laugh.

"We can't do that," Emit reminded her. "It might change-"

He couldn't finish before a flash filled the room. Angela and Mary Sue blinked at the blinding white light, but when the room cleared, the time-travelling trio was gone.

"They really did it!"

Mary Sue sat down to read more about time travel, in hopes understanding it better might ease her worried mind.

"Just because they jumped doesn't mean they landed in the right place," Angela reminded her cautiously. "We won't know if they're safe until they get back."

Felix and Lilith couldn't explain what it felt like to travel through time. After the flash of light, in a blink they'd arrived at their destination. Oasis Springs - January 13, 2020. They looked down at their hands and feet - all parts of them were accounted for. Casino lights obscured the night sky and they looked around.

"There!" Emit shouted. "The time thief! She's running into the Fortuna Casino."

The thief looked back quickly before racing inside. Emit, Angela, and Felix gave chase, but the quick-footed thief blended into the garish interior.

They raced up stairs, past waitresses in showgirl-esque attire, searching wildly for the thief in black and white stripes. They spotted her racing up a grand staircase and the thief met their gaze, but then in another flash of light, she was gone.

"Where did she go?" cried Lilith.

"I don't know," said Emit. "I have to wait for her to drop something in time to get a signal."

"So what are we supposed to do here?"

"Well, we can't change anything, so don't talk to anyone you don't have to, don't tell anyone your real name, and don't do anything to get yourself noticed. We're here weeks before the start of the global pandemic that hit Simlandia this year, so we should be fine, health-wise."

They headed back downstairs, spotting a blonde waitress who looked somehow so familiar. Felix did the math in his head. "I think that's Nancy Landgraab," he said, leaning in close to Lilith to ensure she wouldn't overhear them.

"Ash's grandmother was a casino waitress in the desert? When?"

Emit looked around. "We jumped back in time forty years, so that's probably the answer to that question."

"It'd be nice if you could use that against the old witch somehow," Lilith mused, but Felix didn't have time to consider it before Emit's wristboard beeped again.

"The time thief's a real klepto. They've already dropped something else. July 14, 1920, outside the Laurel Library in Britechester."

"So we're jumping again?" Lilith's eyes lit up.

"Is it safe to jump there? It's only five years after my death - what if we run into someone who knew me?"

"Just remember, focus on the mission and try not to talk to anyone."

Felix' trepidation couldn't prevent them from jumping again - they'd already jumped back forty years, and they hadn't yet completed the mission.

The trio left the busy casino so no one would see them disappear, and in another flash of light they moved through space and time again. But when Felix and Lilith landed outside the Laurel Library in broad daylight, Emit wasn't with them.

"What happened?" cried Lilith. "Where did he go? Did we jump to the wrong time?"

They looked around the quiet university grounds, still somewhat deserted in the early morning light. Britechester hadn't changed much in a century and a half, but the few milling about the red-brick library let them know they'd made it to the 1920s.

Lilith's mouth hung open in awe, as several students looked at them strangely in their brightly-coloured travel suits. One woman with short blonde hair and a burgundy hat approached the library doors, looking casually in their direction. Felix gasped, at the same moment the blonde did a double take.

"Felix, what is it?"

"Felix Psyded, Esquire?" The blonde woman's voice rang like an alarm in his head. "If I'm not staring at your ghost, you best have a fine explanation for this!" ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

WCIF Poses & Casino Lot: Trio poses by Atashi77 aka the 'time-travelling pose'; young Nancy is posed with @tenyrasims Serving With a Smile posepack (which I've used before and still love!), and the casino is a fantastic lot by Katy555 on the Sims 4 Gallery, Fortunas Casino Royale. Really bright and elaborate inside and outside. Reminds me a little more of Monaco than Vegas, tbh!

To confirm any questions, yes that is young Nancy, because I downloaded Teen Nancy Landgraab by simsquared7 for this scene (and maybe more 👀)

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illusions11 · 2 months ago

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He’s acting like I didn’t just find him, now looking back at his tree sadly

I found him under this tree and he started to run away

#endos dni #anti endogenic #endos fuck off #lemonsystem #lemonsys #did system #actually did #pro endos fuck off #system punk #all hail oasis

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disillusioneddanny · 2 years ago

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Crackling Flames and Humming Electricity

Prompt courtesy of @stealingyourbones Jason gets his neck sliced by Bruce’s batarang. It irreversibly damaged his vocal cords.

Pros: He can still use ghost speak

Cons: None of his family knows ghost speak (as it’s sounds aren’t for living men to understand)

It had been an accident when it happened. That’s what Bruce had said anyway. He had been so focused on saving Joker from being killed by Red Hood that he hadn’t even realized what he had done to his son . That he had permanently disabled Jason in a way that could never be repaired.

The slice to his throat had destroyed his vocal chords. He hadn’t been able to say a single word in over a year now. After a year of vocal therapy, Jason had learned how to do these strange chirps and growls, these weird noises that didn’t seem to come from his throat at all but moreso his very being let out the noises. The only problem was that no one understood what he was saying.

Cass had been a blessing and had taken the time to teach Jason how to successfully sign. She had taken it on as her mission as the only other person in the family who was mute to make sure that Jason could effectively communicate.

He hadn’t been back at the manor since the accident, hadn’t been around Bruce since it happened. But each of his siblings had come to check on him, they checked in on him every so often and they had even managed to develop their own way of understanding the strange rumblings that came from Jason’s body that were now his only form of vocal communication.

A chirp meant that he was happy.

Two chirps was a yes.

A short growl was no.

A long snarling growl? He was pissed and you better leave him the fuck alone.

It wasn’t the best, but it worked when they spoke with him on comms. They couldn’t understand any of the other noises that came from Jason, the wails, the crackling of fire that somehow espaped him sometimes. A sound that could only be described as the sound of smoke itself slipping through the air. They were sounds that didn’t have names, there were no true words to describe the noises that would come from Jason at times.

His family tried. Oh his siblings desperately tried to understand this new way of communication with their brother but none of it was effective. No one truly understood him anymore. Not even Cass could always understand what Jason was trying to explain in his broken sounds and strange chirps.

That had all changed one fateful day, though.

Jason had gone to pick up a coffee from the only functioning shop in Crime Alley. It had just opened a few weeks before and he had been meaning to try it out. Wanted to see the brave bastard willing to open up such a pretty coffee and tea shop in the middle of Crime Alley of places. Something had been tugging at Jason’s gut about the place, almost as though it was calling Jason here, like he needed to be at the coffe shop.

Seriously, though, as he inspected the layout, it looked like the kinda place to be opened in one of the fancier neighborhoods in Gotham, not Red Hood’s home.

Red Hood had managed to keep his operations running even after the accident. If anything, it had made his people even more loyal to him. Those closest even taking the time to learn sign language just so that they could communicate and translate. They had all seen the way he had tried to take down Joker, only for the fucking Batman attempt to murder him just to save the very man who tormented the people of Gotham. Of course, the people of Crime Alley were more commonly his victims, less likely to be noticed if they were murdered, less likely to be taken seriously.

So it had come as a personal offense to all of them when Red Hood had been nearly killed. They had all respected Red Hood even more after it had happened, realizing that not only had he gone against the bat, but he had done it and lived out of pure spite.

Jason slipped through the door of the shop, Phantom’s Oasis it was called and looked around. Dark black metal chairs and tables lined the walls, Boston ivy grew along the charcoal grey walls. Any parts that were not covered by ivy were covered by bookshelves overfilled with books. And while tables and chairs lined the walls, comfy, overstuffed chairs filled the corners with small coffee tables, the middle of the area sat large velvet green couches. It was like it was the perfect oasis for Jason.

He made it up to the back counter where a single employee stood cleaning the counter. He was young, probably just a year or two younger that Jason. He was tall and lanky with deep black hair pulled back in a pony tail, showing off the shaved sides of his head. Cosmic themed earrings hung from his lobes and cartilage and when the man glanced up, Jason was also surprised to find a ring on either nostril in the man’s nose along with a septum piercing. For all that his looks screamed edgy, though, he exuded nothing but safety and warmth. Something in Jason’s very being ached to be close to the man.

Unable to stop himself he released a soft sound, the sound of walls breaking under strong flames. The man’s head shot up and he smiled at Jason before releasing a sound of his own.

It was the sound of the stirrings of a storm. Hello, it said. How are you?

“You know what I’m saying?” Jason asked, only the words came out in the sound of a roaring flame, those of a bonfire finally growing higher and higher. He signed the words as well causing the barista to grin in response.

“Of course I do, we’re the same,” he explained through sounds of a building creaking against harsh winds.

A childlike peel rang from Jason’s mouth unable to stop himself. It was the laughter of a child who thought Robin was magic. The laughter of someone who had finally found someone who understood him.

“How?” Jason asked, tilting his head to the side, his heart racing.

The barista smiled and a single black painted finger nail beckoned him closer.

In English the man whispered in Jason’s ear once he approached. “Because just like you, I died wrong and came back wrong,” he murmured before he pulled away and took in Jason’s form. “It’s why you were drawn here.”

Smoke crackled in the air showing Jason’s curiosity, his confusion.

The barista smiled. “You don’t know what you are, do you?” after a shake of Jason’s head the man smiled. “Jason Todd, you are an extraordinary being that is both of life and death. A being that has lost more than he ever gained but continued on stubbornly, refusing to back down. You were called to Phantom’s Oasis because your core heard my ghost speak and like calls to like.”

Ghost speak? Is that what the sounds that escaped Jason were? A language of those who had died and come back wrong? Or didn’t come back at all judging by the name. The sound of fire crackling filled the empty coffee shop.

“I’m Danny, by the way. Now, what would you like to drink? I can make it real quick, close up shop and we can talk.”

The crackling of a sparkler escaped Jason’s being causing Danny’s noseto wrinkle in amusement. “You’ve got yoursel a fire core, huh?”

Pops and crackles slipped from Jason, showing his curiosity.

“Order first, then I’ll answer your questions,” Danny said in the form of the sounds of electricity crackling through the air.

Jason frowned and started to sign his order only for Danny to push his hands down. “Use your words,” he said quietly. “I’ll understand.” The sounds that came from Danny were reminiscent of an old generator turning on for the first time in years, the electricity hummed the words out for Jason to understand.

Rustling and crinkling of a fire’s flames going out sounded throughout the room. “Vanilla late with sweet cream,” it said to Danny.

The hum of white noise came through in response, telling him that Danny understood as he got to work. He waved a hand causing Jason to look back as the door to the shop locked itself.

“I’m a halfa,” Danny told him through the sizzling of lightning that had just hit the earth. “You are what feels like a revenant. Someone who died a brutal death and came back to seek revenge. You have someone we ectoplasmic entities call a core.”

Jason listened as Danny spoke in sounds of crackling electricity and quiet hums of white noise as he explained ghost cores to Jason. Ghost cores were their very being, they were created in result of the person’s death. In their examples, Danny had died by electocution, it was why his ghost speak sounded like electricity coursing in the air and lighting crackling angrily and wildly. He didn’t need Jason to confirm before he had said that the revenant had died in a fire of some sort. He explained that all ghosts had the basic chirps and growls for ghost speak but that the rest was specific to their cores as they were all different.

It wasn’t Jason making the noises that came out of him but his very core himself. For the first time in a year, though, Jason was finally able to speak to someone without sign, to use his words to explain what happened to him, the pain he had gone through when realizing that his father would rather kill him than let him get revenge. He had finally found someone who understood the ache of not being able to exact revenge on the person who had killed him.

For the first time in Jason’s life, he had finally found someone who understood. Danny had sat there drinking his own London Fog as he listened to Jason’s tell. Responding in chirps, whistles and a gentle hum of running appliances. He gave insight and advice, had even given Jason his number explaining that yes, they could use ghost speak over the phone as well.

He had never felt so seen in all of his life.

Maybe that explained why he kept coming back to the coffee shop. Every day he would come, order his coffee, using a language that just he and Danny knew and curled up on a couch and read for hours, feeling at peace in a way he hadn’t experienced since he had died.

Maybe it explained why he went out on a limb and asked Danny on a date, demanding that the halfa come over to his place for dinner.

Of course, Danny had only agreed if Jason promised to make the halfa’s favorite. The night had quickly ended with their cores singing for one another as their legs tangled together under the safety of Jason’s blankets.

Rustling and crackling of a candle flame sounded through the room as electricity hummed along with it, creating a symphony of white noise that Jason loved more than anything in the world. The noises provided a sense of comfort and safety unlike anything he had ever experienced. He wanted to drown in the sounds, drown in the sounds of Danny’s crackling electricity that whispered promises of happiness and safety. Just as the whispering flames of Jason’s core told Danny stories of love and promises of companionship, holding him close, wrapping around him in a warm comforting blanket.

The air crackled around Jason as he stood in the kitchen quietly making breakfast, revelling in the feeling of Danny surrounding him from all sides.

His fire chirped at the halfa in curiosity. One or two it asked him.

Two, electricity said with a charged hum, thin arms snaked around Jason’s waist.

“I think you’re going to have to invite me over more often,” lightning crackled, a crash exploding from Danny in a way that made Jason shiver in delight.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you leave,” fire roared, flames licking high in the air, causing wood to shatter and break under the heat. Danny just chuckled and kissed the side of his neck softly.

Electricity flowed from Danny along with a series of chirps, whistles and growls, telling Jason he had no problem with staying by Jason’s side.

#dead on main #dead on main ship #dis writes #dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #now with a full length multi chapter fic on my ao3 #lightning in a bottle #disillusioneddanny

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