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astrojoong · 4 years ago

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Hongjoong - Migraine Comfort

Hongjoong x Reader

Genre: Comfort, Fluff

Length: Bullet Pointed, sort of a Reaction

Warnings: Mentions of pain? nausea?

AN: okay so this was originally going to be a full blown drabble, BUT I am very depressed and can’t seem to complete it, so I think I’m going to be posting them as bullet points/reactions for rn and then I’ll plan on fleshing them out and probably posting them to ao3. I say them bc this is part of a bunch of comfort fics that I’m writing, one prompt per member, one fic for each member! anyways lmk what ya’ll think!

Ok so you and Joong have been dating for a while

They very recently ended promotions for a comeback and were BEAT

so when Joong texted you letting you know that they had their first free day in a while you were Excited to say the least

Work had been rough the past week and you really missed Joong during promotions

and to a lesser extent, the boys

you arrive like a bit past one, just like you said you would, and were disappointed but not surprised, to find that half of the members were still asleep

At least Joong was up, that's all you could ask for tbh

Because you missed the boys as well as Your Boy, you and the awake members (read: Hwa, Yeo, and Jongho) decide to watch a movie together.

You all settle in the living room, getting all comfy and cuddly to watch a movie together

It starts off calm.

but

BUT

it is Ateez

even when the other members start to make their way into the living room around the end of the first movie and the start of the second, it doesn’t get crazy YET

but it was only a matter of time

you think it started with Wooyoung’s questions and commentary during the start of the second movie, but its hard to say how exactly you got to this point

u and joong are still on the couch, u leaning against him with his arms around your shoulder, holding you to him while he rests his chin gently on your head

yeo is on the other end of the couch and all three of you are watch the Shit Show go down

The innocent act of eating popcorn while watching a movie has devolved into a full blown battle of spitting kernels and flicking popcorn at one another

Its woosan on one side, yungi on the other

Seonghwa was in the middle, acting as both a shield and a target as he attempted to get the boys to ceasefire in the hopes of mitigating an already disastrous mess

jongho had abandoned the chaos in favor of napping in his room now that it was free of any distractions

as amusing as all this was, you were a little distracted.

you were getting a headache

well, at this point, you HAD a headache

you weren’t sure when exactly it had started but at this point you Certainly felt it

you hadn’t been too concerned, thinking it was probably just a tension headache since you had been all tensed up for the past month due to work

but now

now you were feeling nauseous

which is a Bad sign

as nonchalantly as you can, you extract yourself from joong shooting him an apologetic look and make ur way to the bathroom

the farther u got from the cacophony, the less nauseous you became

which gave u a Theory

a theory that you tested when you entered the restroom and didn't turn on the light

just as you suspected

your headache ebbed just a touch and the nausea lessened

it was a migraine

you had a little experience with migraines before, you knew yours didn’t present with an aura so you never got a warning before one hit

you were thankful to have gotten yourself to a dark, quiet room before it hit full stride, which it was doing right now

all you could really do was curl up in a ball on the cool tiles and softly groan in pain

which is exactly how joong found you

when you had gotten up originally he noticed you seemed a little off but decided to say nothing and planning on seeing how you looked when you returned, maybe checking in then

after a couple minutes you could hear your phone chime, recognizing Hongjoong’s assigned text tone, but you were in far too much pain to do anything

plus you knew how painful the light from your phone would be

so after a few more minutes, with his text remaining unseen, he came to check up on you himself

he knocks on the door and all you can really do is moan pitifully in response

which does NOT comfort the poor boy

he was already worried before but now you sound like you’re in pain

when he opens the door you wince and retract from the light and now the faint sound of the rest of the boys’ distant antics

noticing your reaction, he crouches down to softly push some of your hair out of your face and stroke it lovingly

his voice gets really soft and he asks what's wrong

you explain the best you can which is really just whimpering the word migraine at him

he sighs and gives your head a few gentle pats before saying “wait here” in the same, soft tone, and standing up

he gently closes the door behind him

through the door you can hear him use his “Leader Voice” as he speaks to the members

you aren’t really aware enough to catch any specific words, all u know is that you’re for sure glad that the noise had died down a considerable amount

some time later

it could’ve been anywhere from 3 to 10 minutes, you aren’t really in a place to note the passage of time, joong returns.

as he slowly opens the door, you brace yourself, but it doesn’t hurt like it had before

he had the lights in the hall way turned off

joong helps you up off of the floor and guides you toward him and hwa’s shared room

there he has the lights off and the curtains drawn

on his bedside table there are two icepacks, a glass of water and a bottle of over the counter pain meds waiting for you

he helps you sit down and hands you the water and deposits two pills into your palm

you were getting ready to settle down when you heard wooyoung’s voice cut through the silence, yelling about something that mingi had done

you wince and the gentle expression falls from joongs face, morphing into “Leader Mode” as he quickly but quietly left the room to scold Wooyoung, but not before placing a gentle peck on your temple before disappearing

He returns with a remorseful looking woo who softly apologizes from the door, you silently wave off his apology and in return shoot him a finger heart with as much playful energy as you can muster

he returns the gesture as Joong turns back from talking to Seonghwa, who also apparently had followed him back.

you shoot hongjoong the best questioning look you can and he whispers back that Hwa will be making sure the rest of the boys keep the dorm quiet until you feel better

he tucks you into bed, placing ice packs on your forehead and neck respectively

he pulls up a chair next to his bed and softly strokes your hair and whispers soothing words to you until you are finally able to fall asleep

ok tbh this is my first time ever writing so like... hopefully it wasn’t Total Shit, im not Super happy w it but we all have to start somewhere so whatever. also! hopefully this is a somewhat accurate description of a migraine! I’ve only had about four in my life and they were all essentially the same as what the reader has. So I have limited experience and research to go off of but hopefully it was sufficient enough. Anyways pls let me know what you thought, or if you have a request (no promises tho lmao) or ideas. I’m pretty much open to anything.

thank you for reading!!

#hongjoong fluff #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez x gender neutral reader #hongjoong x gender neutral reader #ateez x gn reader #hongjoong x gn reader #ateez x gn!reader #hongjoong x gn!reader #hongjoong comfort #ateez comfort #ateez reactions #hongjoong reaction #im tagging it reaction bc it fits that category #at least better than a drabble i think #hongjoong migraine #i am Soft and would like a pretty boy to take care of me #is that so much to ask

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ellstersmash · 4 years ago

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fic writer ao3 questionnaire thingy

tagged by @bearlytolerant and @ejunkiet for this 💙 thx buddies

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

79,572

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

these are all solavellan which I guess is not surprising... but to be fair, my mass effect fics just missed the cut

three (modern!au WIP that could technically be finished where I left it but needs a rewrite bc i started it before i learned how to make more thoughtful choices)

nothing on my tongue (collection of playlist-inspired <500 word vignettes that sort of work as a whole story)

awake, alive (two-shot ? about not-kissing in the rain. *smacks the roof* this bad boy can fit so much romantic and sexual tension in it)

the naughty list (a very smutty christmas fic, and another two-shot)

waking up (post-trespasser prompt fill about kissin your not-ex-boyfriend to help him see how dumb he's being)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes, I do. commenting can be intimidating when you don't know the writer, so in that case it feels disrespectful not to even acknowledge the effort. same with extensive comments. and oftentimes the commenter brings up questions or points out interesting moments that you can then have mo re of a conversation about.

honestly comments aren't about the compliments (though those are always nice to hear), they're about the connection. I wrote this, you read it. we both want to feel seen. consider my response an acknowledgement of our connection.

5. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

principles, which is just a one-shot so the whole thing is angsty, but it definitely ends even less happily than nomt...

6. What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

probably three, but since the last chapter is technically not the ending... I think to the water (smutty dragon age OCxOC indulgence) takes it! it is also, coincidentally, some of my tightest writing.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've written?

i do not. i don't generally love reading or writing them tbh

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

nope, but there's always tomorrow!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i sure do, but uh what kind? the um... the quick and snappy kind where you hope to squeeze at least a little heat out of those 600 words? idfk

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i am aware of

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

not that i am aware of

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

not that i am awa- wait, yes! i collaborated with my past self on not to keep, a shenko fake-dating one-shot that I wrote most of in 2017!! lol ok but like with other people, no.

13. What's your all-time favorite ship?

well that's not a fair question to ask. how about top three: mayo, solathi, and bethistair

14. What's a WIP that you want to finish, but don't think you ever will?

i mean there's always some hope, but.. arlathan!au. 🥀rip

15. What are your writing strengths?

being concise: i try to be efficient with my word choice, and cram a lot of characterization/meaning into a handful of words

i think i hit a decent balance of description, action, dialogue, and interiority?

giving certain sentences that satisfying cadence

im good at beginnings. fuck endings tho

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

dialogue. im a lot better than i used to be, but still struggle with it

i don't understand smut and it doesn't understand me

my stamina is shit!!! which is why i write small things and that works fine but when i occasionally want to write something long (beach fic my love) i get overwhelmed and discouraged.

im just.. not that creative lmao this head is empty

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i do not do it, but all the best to ppl who do ig. hopefully someone knows how to do it well... once i read a longfic that did this sort of a lot and the translations were all in the chapter end notes on ao3 and it was such a PAIN to scroll down then find my place again

but i just don't do it bc im lazy :}

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

newsies lmao (which came out when i was 3! never been on time to a fandom in my life ✌🏻😌)

19. What's your favorite fic you've ever written?

uhhhhh well right now i am most satisfied with anybody's hands (pre-relationship mayo), but like the writing of be gentle with me (also mayo), but am most proud of nothing on my tongue. idk which would be considered my favorite.

idk who hasn't been tagged yet but @thevikingwoman, @boshtet-juggler, @kittlesandbugs, @ladymdc, and @writer-ish, if you've done this will you pls tag me in it so i can see?? and the rest of yall if you got this far and have stuff on ao3 i am BEGGING you to say i tagged you pls i do not even care if we're mutuals or not

#ellster speaks #fic writer tag game #gotta say it bugs me there's no 20 #these are the same ppl that leave the volume at 11 huh

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forsakenoathkeeper · 4 years ago

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I Am Alive (chapter 8/?)

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Please support me on AO3 & thanks for reading ♥

"Looks like we're gonna have to bring the plastic detective," Gavin said sourly, removing his phone from his ear.

Connor had been looking through hours and hours of security camera footage all morning. Somehow, he still managed to hear Gavin insult him from across the room.

Seeing as he didn't need to sleep, Connor was one of the first detectives to arrive in the morning, almost every morning. Detective Reed rarely failed to come in shortly after him. Judging by the dark lines in the skin beneath his eyes and redness in his sclera, Connor assumed he suffered from insomnia.

"Just sittin' there, doin' nothing?" Gavin asked, suddenly standing by Connor's desk. He crossed his arms, looking down at the android with contempt.

Connor had been staring at a blank computer screen, finding it much faster and easier to just use his internal interface than the computer. He also operated at much faster speeds than desktops.

He was aware of how comical it appeared, sitting there and looking at nothing; but, most were aware of his internal processes and didn't bother him about the strangeness of his behavior.

Connor had found footage of Robert pulling himself out of the harbor, the time stamp suggesting it was a few hours after their encounter. He had not managed to catch any more footage of him since. He also was on the lookout for the assailants that had attacked androids at the protests yesterday. Unsurprisingly, they were also laying low.

It was a massive city and there was a lot of ground to cover.

"I am going through security camera footage," Connor answered plainly, looking up at Gavin from his seat.

"Ahuh," Gavin replied, clearly not giving a damn. "Got a crime scene with a dead android. Heading over now. Don't fucking keep me waiting."

Connor didn't bother asking for any info, knowing full well he wouldn't get any. As Gavin walked away, Connor checked the case logs in the police database. Luckily, it was already there. The first responding officers had documented it fairly well.

Twenty-one minutes ago, officers responded to a 911 call that an armed assailant had broken into a small manufacturing plant on the north side of the city. The facility created specialized computer chips. They were most commonly used for android motherboards; however, they were also used in some security monitoring systems.

At a quick glance, Connor could see all the victims were androids. They were employees for the morning shift. When he searched the company's records, he could see they had hired the androids as proper employees a few months ago.

One android was dead and three others had been injured. There was one human involved, another employee and a witness, unharmed.

An important report was missing. Despite the fact that three androids had been attacked, no emergency medical services had been called to the scene. Unfortunately, it wasn't entirely surprising. There weren't clear medical services for androids. Not yet.

The clinic you worked at was outsourced from one of the big contributors to Cyberlife's stocks. It was, essentially, the company's way of carefully moving their funds from Cyberlife production to healthcare for androids. Eventually, it was going to start paying for itself, and it served as a great way to protect their public image.

The police needed medical services to document the case, sure; but, Connor was also bothered by the injustice here. Fowler wasn't in yet to approve of his idea. So, the android decided to make the call himself.

...

Connor was already gone by the time you woke up.

Funny enough, he still managed to wake you up.

You hummed groggily into the phone, not bothering to check who it was before answering.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you would still be asleep," Connor's voice said politely on the other end.

You yawned into the phone. "Hm? Oh, Connor... You beat my alarm by, like, five minutes. Don't worry about it," you replied hoarsely, rolling onto your other side.

"There's been an incident," Connor began, suddenly sounding quite serious. His tone was enough to wake you up.

"Some androids were injured; but, no paramedics were called for... obvious reasons." Connor didn't sound mad, bless his heart. But, you could sense some frustration. "Would you mind accompanying me on this? I must warn you, it will lead to involvement in this case: paperwork, and likely testimonies."

"Yeah, of course, Connor," you said into the phone, rolling back over to swing your legs over the edge of the bed. "Text me the address?"

"Will do. I haven't arrived yet. I'll meet you there. I'm sorry, there's no food. I haven't had the time to go to the store for-..."

Connor trailed off when he heard you laughing quietly in the background.

"I'm sorry. I was just imagining you at the grocery store," you chuckled. While you didn't mean to laugh, it was hard not to. The image you conjured in your mind was Connor looking very out of place in a grocery store. He probably would only bring home raw vegetables and bottled water.

"I know what dietary needs humans have," Connor replied, almost defensive.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," you laughed softly. "Don't worry about it. I can just pick something up along the way."

"I hadn't considered, before I asked, if this unexpected time off would be approved by your employer?" Connor asked.

"Oh, they'll have a field day with this one. No IMS called to an assault. I should be asking you if YOU are gonna get in trouble."

"We need medical reports for the case; so, it isn't entirely in my own self-interest," Connor answered in his usual, calm tone. He sounded robotic at times; but, you had grown to recognize that as his own nature. He was a dedicated detective after all. In your privacy, he wore his heart on his sleeve. But, right now, he was on the force. It was all business.

"Alright. Meet ya' there-" You stole a glance at your messages and noticed the address. "Geez, north side of town? Oh - that's a factory, isn't it?"

"AlphaBio," Connor answered simply.

Naturally, you recognized that name, having a small stash of their chips at the clinic.

"You don't think it's related to the protests?" you asked. It was less of a question and more of a suggestion.

"It is... likely," Connor replied, sounding a little hesitant to answer you.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised... I'm'a let you go so I can get changed."

"I will see you soon - oh - and, good morning," Connor said warmly. You could practically hear the smile on his face.

You giggled, "good morning, Connor. See you soon," before hanging up.

...

Connor had failed to mention it was the crime scene for a homicide. Although, he was, specifically, a homicide detective; so, it really shouldn't have surprised you.

The first responders had separated the three damaged androids from the body and sanctioned off that part of the crime scene to everyone but the detectives.

You had been there for almost an hour and had yet to see Connor.

Two of the androids were AP700 models. They were almost exact twins, except one had blue eyes and the other had brown eyes. The third android was a BL100 model. She had her factory issued hair swapped with something short, boyish, and ebony black.

All of them had suffered defensive wounds. The detectives made it very clear you weren't to be given any insight to their testimonies. It was understandable. They wanted to verify that your findings matched their statements without preconceived notions.

Luckily, most of their wounds were superficial. The worse injury of the batch was one of the AP700's had severe nerve damage on his inner, right elbow, cutting off movement to his forearm and fingers. It was an easy fix, and he seemed grateful.

The BL100 was hesitant to let you touch her, not that you were the least bit offended or surprised. You knew what she was designed for, and she knew that you knew. It was only after she saw you handle the other two androids with respect that she felt comfortable enough to let you help her.

As you treated their damages, you documented them with a tablet one of the officers had given you. It was a little difficult, considering their documentation was designed for humans. Somehow, you managed to make it work.

You had been there for a little over two hours before you finally saw Connor. He had actually caught you off guard. You were seated at a small, fold out desk, tapping away on the DPD tablet when you saw someone suddenly approach in the corner of your eye. They set a water bottle at the edge of the desk.

Your eyes shifted to his torso first. Oh. He was wearing his nice coat today, and a matching, black tie.

"Thank you," you uttered, a small smile forming on your lips. You didn't maneuver too far from the tablet, going over your work carefully to make sure everything was properly notated. Considering it was documentation for human wounds, you had to put extra care into it.

"Hey, Robocop!" Detective Reed called out suddenly, before the android could say anything to you.

Connor knew he was talking about him, and wanted to ignore him; but, they were at a crime scene and this was important. He couldn't ignore him right now.

He shifted his eyes from you and over to the other detective. You froze up at the word 'Robocop', somehow doubting it was intended to be a word of endearment.

When Gavin saw that Connor was looking, he continued. "This computer is having issues. I figured it was your cousin or something. So, you should be able to fix it, yeah?"

All at once, blood rushed to your face and rage started to rise in you like smoke in a chimney.

Everyone in the room heard Gavin's remark: Hank, on the other side of the room, going over the case details with the first responding officers, another detective who had been dusting for prints along every entryway, a total of four police officers, and the CSI operator sitting at the desk next to Gavin.

If Connor was annoyed, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.

The android approached the detective. "Androids are far more complicated than desktop computers," he said calmly, keeping his eyes focused on Gavin. He wasn't just calm: he was polite. "I won't be of much help, I'm afraid."

The person seated in front of the computer, a member of their computer division, looked uncomfortable enough to commit seppuku right then and there.

"Do the hand thing," Gavin suggested, lifting his hand for a moment and waving it like he was talking to a child. "You know - probe it."

"I can only probe androids," Connor answered, plainly, as if unbothered by the ridiculousness of it all.

"It's fine. I can recover the data-" the crime scene investigator tried to mediate. It was clear that Gavin wasn't listening to him.

"Ohhh - right - right," Gavin replied, drawing out his words in mock understanding. "Poor girlfriend," he added on with a chuckle.

Did he just suggest-...?

Something in you snapped. You carefully set down the tablet, pushed your chair back, and marched over to the detective.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" you called out to the detective, not caring if everyone in this god-damned room was watching.

The smug bastard turned around, eyeing you. You stepped right up to him, fearless, fire in your eyes. You could tell Connor was looking at you; but, most of your vision was being taken in by this asshole, leaving you unable to make out Connor's expression.

"Ugh - shit," Hank muttered to himself. He approached, deciding to intervene before things got ugly.

"A real cop," Gavin sneered at you. "-and you are here as a formality. Don't push your luck."

"Connor is a real cop," you practically snarled at the guy. "He deserves just as much respect as anyone else."

"That's enough," Hank said lowly, directed at both you and the detective.

The lieutenant looked around, eyes briefly scanning everyone in the room. "This isn't a high school locker room. Get back to work," he hollered. He was loud and commanding. His words didn't fall on deaf ears.

Except, you and Detective Reed were still locked in a death glare.

You wanted to punch him. You hadn't felt the desire to do that since college, when you had to share crowded hallways with smug assholes who thought they owned the world.

Somehow, you had a feeling, the detective could sense that.

"Unless you wanna get arrested for assaulting a police officer, honey, I suggest you back down," he threatened, craning his neck a little to get closer to you.

The android felt his internal temperature rise at the word 'honey'. He didn't care if Gavin called him 'plastic detective', 'robocop', or whatever else came to mind. But, that, directed at you, specifically, bothered him.

Connor could see how tense you were, staring Gavin down with the kind of burning rage he had seen in you once before, directed at himself when he attempted to prevent you from salvaging supplies from a truck in the middle of a firefighter.

He wasn't sure if you would actually hit Detective Reed; but, he couldn't take that chance. There was a high probability that Detective Reed would go through with his threat. You didn't have a criminal record, and Connor didn't want you to end up with one, especially because of him.

The android moved in and slid his arm around your waist. He pulled you into him and away from Gavin, turning his back to the detective. With his legs moving, you had no choice but to shuffle your own feet to keep up with him, practically being dragged away. You flailed awkwardly, but Connor kept you up.

"Don't," Connor requested. You glared at the detective over Connor's shoulder.

Gavin seemed pleased with that. "I would listen to your vibrator, sweetheart," he called out to you smugly, starting to step away. "Might do ya' some good!"

"You don't fucking know when to quit," Hank snarled, his hand roughly falling onto Gavin's shoulder, giving him a push away from you.

"Take your own advice, fuckhead!" you almost shouted over Connor's shoulder. "Maybe if you got laid every once in a while, you wouldn't be such a piece of s-"

"Please don't," Connor interrupted you, stepping in the way so that he took up most of your field of view.

"Connor, don't you fucking-" you hissed at him.

"He's not worth it," Connor warned, eyes narrowing slightly at you. Well, that was new. He actually looked a little angry with you.

"Like fuck he isn't. That bastard deserves to be punched in his stupid bitch-ass fa-"

"I don't want you to get in trouble," he insisted, shaking you a little.

You clenched your jaw, glaring at the android's stupid, handsome face. That bastard disrespected him. You had no doubt that it wasn't the first time, and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

"I like when you get angry," Connor commented with a small grin. He didn't say it, but you couldn't hear it being followed with, 'cute'. He seemed enamored in that moment, and he was, captivated by how passionate you were in his defense, even if it didn't exactly make sense to him.

"...maybe I should punch you instead," you grumbled, trying not to be completely smitten with him.

Connor removed his arm from your waist and stepped back a little, giving you space. You let go of his shoulders and fixed your scrub top, which had been bunched up a little after he grabbed you.

"Well-" you stammered, feeling a little flustered. You couldn't help it. You liked it when he was like this. Connor wanted to be protective, but he also wanted to give you freedom, and it clashed so beautifully in him.

"Y-yeah, well, he fucking had it coming and - and you should'a just let me-..." You sighed heavily. Of course he shouldn't have just let you do whatever.

But, still-

-you were frustrated.

"-you're in the doghouse, mister," you proclaimed quietly, sounding barely serious at all, and poked a finger into Connor's shoulder.

The android stared at you, perplexed.

The dog... house?

As you stepped away and returned to the desk, Connor searched the internet for the meaning of that. From his findings: it seemed to be a word primarily used between couples and meant that someone was in trouble for angering the other, and held the connotation that the one in said 'doghouse' would not be bedding with the one they had angered.

Connor fixed his tie in place of his pride.

He couldn't say he didn't understand why you would be upset with him. What he had done to you was degrading, wasn't it? He had manhandled you, in front of everyone.

He despised Detective Reed, if he was being perfectly honest. It was something he had struggled with; but, it was inevitable that he would meet people whom he simply could never get along with.

He could make sense of being disliked for being an android; he had heard many, many reasons ranging from past traumas to selfish insecurities. But, Detective Reed sought out ways to degrade him whenever the moment convenienced him.

It didn't exactly help that Connor had left him passed out in the evidence room some odd months ago. That likely left a huge dent in his ego. Of course, Connor didn't bring it up because he didn't care.

Connor had yet to hear the detective actually call him by his name. If he was being perfectly honest, 'robocop' was somehow the most flattering of the bunch.

Detective Reed seemed to enjoy relating him to every piece of computer equipment in the office. Connor knew this was to remind him that he wasn't human: he was a machine, a computer wrapped in plastic.

-and, he enjoyed emasculating Connor.

The android didn't care of the extent of Detective Reed's knowledge of his genitalia or whether or not he was capable of pleasing you sexually; but, you cared?

Maybe, while he was in the 'doghouse', he could try to make sense of it.

...

"It's almost midnight. What the hell are you still doing here, Connor?" Hank barked at him.

Connor looked up at his desk, uttering, "I could ask you the same thing, detective..."

Hank was holding his coffee mug in one hand, a folder in the other. He laughed, mumbling, "smartass", as he sat back down at his desk.

The android sighed out your name, "-said I'm in the 'doghouse'. I assumed that meant she wanted space."

Hank let out a bellowing laugh that almost startled the android. He nearly split his coffee, too. After Hank calmed his laughter and looked at him again, and caught that childish frown on Connor's face, he started laughing again.

"Trust me, son-" Hank coughed, still trying to calm his laughter. "She doesn't want space. She wants you to go home and apologize."

Connor looked at Hank like he was analyzing. He hadn't looked at Hank like that in a long time.

"I see..." he uttered, sounding quite embarrassed.

"It's about the thing Gavin said, huh?" Hank added on. "You not having a huge ego is good for you and all, but - of course she was gonna defend you because well - you know."

Hank waved his hand at Connor, not explicitly wanting to say what he was thinking.

"But," Hank continued, "you did the right thing: stopping her before she did something stupid. She knows that, which is why ya' need'ta go home and apologize anyway. Women are... like that."

Hank paused and took a sip of his coffee, hissing in response to how hot it was; however, that didn't stop him from immediately going in for another drink.

The android pondered over the lieutenant's words quickly.

"Thanks, Hank," Connor said, hastily removing himself from his desk. It was the first time he left the office without tucking his chair back in.

#connor x reader #deviant connor #deviant connor x reader #dbh fanfic #rk800 x reader #rk800 smut #connor smut

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masterjedilenawrites · 4 years ago

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Blueberries and Cowboys: Chapter 1

A choose-your-own-adventure style fic. First, 2 platonic chapters for set-up/build-up. And then, the story will split into 2 paths depending on your romantic pairing preference: You and Thrawn, or You and Eli.

Set Up: You are an outcast at the Imperial Academy, which means your only options for friends are the tall and stoic Chiss Mitth'raw'nuruodo and his translator from Wild Space Eli Vanto. The three of you get along, for the most part... Thrawn is obsessed with acing all the exams, Eli is desperate to show up his classmates, and you... well, you just want to feel like you belong somewhere. And hiding beneath it all are your unspoken feelings, longing to be realized, but fearful of ruining the balance of your trio's friendship....

Chapter Masterlist

Chapter 1: The Problem

Pairing: None yet, just a nice friendship trio

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of bullying

Length: 2k

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

You wound down the hallways of the building with a scowl on your face. You would never grow used to this ridiculously long walk, from your first class of the day to the next, so conveniently located on complete opposite sides of the facility. Whoever had designed your schedule this year was either an utter imbecile or had done so on purpose, just to tick you off. At this point in your education here at the Imperial Academy, you knew either scenario was equally likely. You weren't exactly liked by the staff or your peers, and there were plenty of idiots to go around.

The one saving grace of your journey was that you would eventually cross paths with the only two friends you had managed to make in this elitist hell-hole: Eli Vanto and Mitth'raw'nuruodo.

Eli would be the first, his class letting out just a few corridors away from yours. He was leaning against an alcove in the wall just out of the way of passing traffic, his usual spot. When you rounded the corner, he pushed off and fell into step beside you.

"What happened?" you asked, having noticed he was scowling as well. His resting face usually made him look like a sad puppy, so for him to have such a prominent frown this early in the morning, something really upsetting must have happened.

"Lost the debate," he grumbled.

Ah, you'd forgotten he had that today. You and Thrawn had helped him practice for weeks, covering every possible argument and rebuttal from his opponent on the assigned topic. He had it in the bag, or so you'd all thought.

"What? How? Don't tell me you got stage-fright."

He glared over at you. "No, I wasn't nervous or anything. I did everything perfect. But all Arden had to do was throw in a few snide remarks about my accent and that got the whole class turned in his favor."

Eli started biting down on one of his nails in frustration. You frowned along with him. That was a variable none of you had accounted for while practicing.

"Is Arden the pimply-faced guy?"

"Yeah."

"Hate him," you muttered.

"Yeah."

The two of you paused at the doors of a lift, waiting for the previous occupants to exit before filing in yourselves and punching the button for the next level up. Eli was still chewing on his nails.

"Stop," you exclaimed, swatting his hand away from his mouth. "I told you that's a bad habit."

"Oh yeah, what's this then?" He grabbed one of your hands and twisted it around so you could see the splotches of chipped polish on your nails.

You jerked your hand away and held it defensively against your chest. "There's only so much I can do with this insane caseload, okay? I haven't had time to think about my nails."

"Then why'd you paint 'em in the first place?" he said with a bit of a laugh. Well, at least his mood was improving, even if it was at your expense.

You swatted at him just as the lift doors opened. "Maybe I want to try feeling pretty sometimes, not like some zombie student."

You both were keenly aware that the cadets waiting to board the lift had backed up significantly as you passed, despite not having been in your way at all. They were all whispering too, and by the tone, it was probably not about very nice things. It was always like that, wherever you went. Even if they didn't know your reputations of being from wild, "backwater" planets, they need only hear one of you speak to know you were different. And in these Core worlds, different was inferior.

"You know you don't have to follow our course map, right?" Eli spoke up again, once you'd put some distance between the lift of sneering cadets. "Me, I don't have a choice. Thrawn's determined to graduate in as little time as possible, and I'm the sorry sucker who has to follow 'im. I'd run far away from the guy if I were you. Enjoy your freedom."

Eli complained about the last member of your trio, Thrawn, at least six times a day. And half of those complaints ended with him telling you to make a break for it. You knew he didn't mean any of it; the two of you had spent the last holiday break at a bar, and in his drunkenness, Eli had confessed to being secretly grateful for having met the Chiss. He only complained to cope with the stress.

And you... well, you weren't really sure why they let you hang around. They'd both easily become your closest friends, but you weren't always sure where you stood with them. Maybe they did like your company. Or maybe they just felt sorry for you. They were both friendly enough, allowing you to join them on Thrawn's "fast track" out of the Academy. But you had a feeling that as soon as you all graduated, they'd leave you behind and move on to whatever mission the Emperor had planned for Thrawn in the Navy.

You tried not to think about it too much.

Speaking of your friend, Mitth'raw'nuruodo emerged from a classroom doorway just a few paces ahead. Right on time, as always. His specialized "tactical statistics" class ended several minutes ago, but he had learned to carefully time your path so he wouldn't have to stand awkwardly in the hall waiting. It was for the best; you and Eli may sometimes draw unwanted attention, but poor Thrawn always stood out like a very big, very blue sore thumb.

"We have a problem," he stated, coming up on your other side. You never had to ask Thrawn what was wrong; if he had a problem worth sharing, you would hear about it.

"Hallway problem or 'fresher problem?" asked Eli.

You'd all agreed long ago there were some topics of conversation best had out of earshot from any passerby. And since most scurried out of the refresher whenever Thrawn went in, that became the only suitable place for such conversations, if it couldn't wait until your dorms at the end of the day.

"Refresher," Thrawn said. He looked down at you. "You'll be late for your class."

You shrugged. "If it's important...."

"It is."

You trusted him; he wasn't the type to make up drama or blow things out of proportion. The three of you picked up the pace, turning right instead of the usual left, and slipping into the men's bathroom. Thankfully it was already empty. Eli turned the lock just in case.

Thrawn wasted no time diving into the particulars. "I have come to learn our flight instructor, Commander Burdick, intends to sabotage my simulation tests next month. He is acquainted with Admissions Supervisor Aberdeen and understands that a failing mark will require a remedial course before being allowed back into the program. This would set my graduation back several months."

That was a problem. The flight course was one of the longer ones, and mandatory, and you were all so close to finally being through with it. Just one more round of simulation tests and then an actual flight around Coruscant.

Eli was groaning by the door. "You've gotta be kidding."

"I am not," said Thrawn in a measured voice. He knew it was just an expression, but you knew it was one of his pet peeves.

Eli wasn't listening, instead kicking at the tiled floor and mumbling about how this was so typical and why can't we just be left alone.

You turned to Thrawn. "Just you?"

"The ill will seems to be mostly directed toward me. Supervisor Aberdeen does not appreciate the special provisions that have been afforded me on behalf of the Emperor, and has coerced Commander Burdick to indulge in his spitefulness. However, I would not put it past them to also have plans for either of you, as well. They are aware of our... connection."

You were certain he was about to say friendship but changed his mind. Did he not know the word for it? Was he too embarrassed to admit it? Or did he truly not see you or Eli as anything more than connections?

"Okay, but..." Eli was still processing things. "How? What's their plan?"

"I purposefully said the Commander intended to sabotage the tests. He does not yet have a plan."

"So... we stop 'im," said Eli.

"Or," you countered, a mischievous smirk playing about your lips. "We don't."

Eli merely blinked at you, but Thrawn was very interested. "Go on," he encouraged.

"If we learn what the plan is, or maybe even give him a plan of our own, then we can let it play out and ensure he gets in trouble for it."

Thrawn rubbed his chin as he considered. You knew he'd soon slip into his usual routine of pacing and muttering in unknown languages, which could take a while and make you even later for your class. You cleared your throat, drawing his two red eyes back to yours.

"Surely a Commanding Officer wouldn't dare do anything to sabotage you directly," you offered. "He'll either look for some help or pin it on someone else, in case there's an investigation."

Thrawn rubbed his chin again. "You think we should influence the Commander on who to pick to be his... what do you call it, ensipki?"

"Scapegoat," Eli said quickly. It was becoming second nature for him to translate what was left of the holes in Thrawn's understanding of Basic.

"Right, and then we can expose the deception just before the tests," you said. "Before there's time to come up with another plan."

Thrawn's eyes narrowed in thought. "A decent idea, but it would require the education of one of our fellow cadets to be jeopardized. It should not be our first plan."

"But if he's going to use one of them anyway..." you started to protest.

"Then we should seek to expose his connection to that person as well. This is an instructor who is not serving the best interest of several of his students. He should be the only one blamed."

You weren't going to let his logic win this time. As far as you could tell, this was a perfect opportunity to get revenge on your obnoxious classmates. "It's going to be a lot easier to take issue up with the Board against a student than an instructor. We can try to expose both people, but if we can't, then at least we can nail one of them. It's called a scapegoat for a reason."

Eli spoke up before Thrawn could respond, throwing you a meaningful look. "Arden's in his class. Different time, same instructor."

"Who is this Arden?" asked Thrawn.

"The racist asshole who unfairly stole Eli's grade on the debate today," you said. You'd picked your words deliberately, and it did the trick.

"Very well. We have our scapegoat," said Thrawn.

You winked at Eli and he hid a smile.

"So," Thrawn continued, fully invested now. "We will need to push Arden toward the Commander as a viable accomplice. We will need to gain insight into the details of their plan. And then we will need to ensure those details are brought to light at the right moment."

The three of you looked among each other. This was probably the tenth plan this year alone that you'd all devised to take care of some kind of "problem." Just last week Thrawn had discovered misinformation in one of your textbooks that took the three of you on a field trip to the lower levels of Coruscant to find a con-artist who'd sold a quarter-hundred counterfeit materials to the Academy library. You'd only had the weekend to catch up on all the rest of your homework, and here you all were again, ready to jump into another scheme.

You had suggested the idea, so you were already grinning and ready to go. Thrawn had just put together a to-do list, and you could almost see the gears in his head continuing to spin as he determined more points to the plan.

The deciding vote was Eli. Though he often complained about not having a choice, you and Thrawn rarely forced him to do anything and were always respectful if he had a differing opinion. This time, you had a feeling he'd be on board.

He set his hands on his hips and smirked. "Disgracing a shitty classmate and a shitty teacher in order to save our grades? Let's do it."

Next Chapter: The Plan >

#star wars #thrawn #eli vanto #thrawn x reader #eli vanto x reader #choose your own adventure #friendship #romance #mitth'raw'nuruodo

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snacc-noir · 4 years ago

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Unseal and Reveal pt2

Ao3

Part 1

Adapted from this post

Summary:

Adrien asks Marinette to fake date him after his father finds a pink ‘love note’ containing just her name on it

— but it was really the emergency note Ladybug gave him in case he needed to know her identity

Adrien has screwed up.

But before anything begins, he’d like to make it very clear that he’s only ever had good intentions, believable smiles, and incredible lying ability – no matter what his friends say (“You once told Alya you had a great dentist so Marinette wouldn’t be suspicious”), because he’s kept the fact he’s Chat Noir under wraps and no one has been the wiser.

Then again, Chat Noir is stylish, handsome, incredibly dressed, insanely hilarious, im(pecc)ably ripped, totally—

Yeah, so Adrien just can’t live up to that (If it came down to it, he’d totally fall in love with himself if circumstances allowed.), and thus his identity is pretty secure , unlike his self-esteem on a good day.

Specifically, today.

Because he has screwed up.

So yes, he’s somehow the best and worst liar ever, which probably likens to how it isn’t his secret identity that he Accidentally (three underlines for ‘accidentally’) reveals, but, uh, someone else’s.

Ladybug’s.

He knows Ladybug’s identity.

But hey! Hey— remember, her idea. It was never him who suggested the ‘let’s write our names on letters in case we need to know in an emergency’, as that was definitely her.

He’s screwed everything up, but it was definitely her.

“Did you know? ”

“Duh,” his kwami’s gravel voice says, “I know everything.”

Adrien’s hands are rousing his hair so much at this point he might expose himself as Chat Noir if anyone went by his lean windows. “You knew this whole time!? That Ladybug is– That she’s– That—”

All air escapes him in a corrupt elongated syllable. He flops on his Extra King size bed with silk sheets and fluffed pillows, almost knocking his model agency’s branded hydro-flask onto the desk adjacent with three exorbitant monitor screens. Oh, how difficult his life is.

“You’re so pathetic.”

He is.

“This is hilarious.”

It is not.

‘“What am I supposed to do, Plagg?! Call her? ‘Hey love of my life, it’s me Adrien, but you also know me as Chat Noir. I accidentally found out your identity and long story short, my household thinks we’re dating and wants you over for dinner. Are you up for fake-dating and not killing me, please?”

His kwami skulls a camembert roll. “I’m down for that idea.”

Adrien pegs a sock.

“How are you so calm?”

“I shrugged in the face of dinosaur extinction. Your damsel in distress crisis – you’re the damsel, by the way – and ‘oohhh no, I’m so in love’ hullabaloo is nothing.”

Adrien’s frown deepens. “I don’t sound like that.”

“You do. Your voice goes like eee .”

“What? No it doesn’t”

“You’re right, it’s more like ahhh . ”

The heat in Adrien’s acid eyes smarten. He crosses his arms, huffing in a way he hasn’t since early childhood, and glares at his ceiling. “I’m done talking to you.”

He isn’t, of course, as there’s only one person in his life he can complain to about his array of #RelatableTeenBoy issues, like ditching your favourite topic of Physics one class to cater to a Giant Baby akuma (again) and being late due to lack of places to change into your skin-tight cat suit (you know; just those little things). And by Hawk Moth’s insufferable menacing he isn’t letting that outlet fall from under him. He needs to clear his thoughts, because believe him, there is a lot to sift, and it doesn’t help when part of this whole catastrophe has left him with the knowledge that—

“Marinette is Ladybug!”

Plagg has moved to Adrien’s three-panelled computer desk and is clicking through something. “I’m so glad you’ve caught up.”

“And if she’s Ladybug, that means,” he goes on, white overshirt sleeves now uneven as he animates his words with a pillow, “she was just saying to me – to Chat – she was in love with him to save her identity! And there’s another boy she’s in love with! And–! And I might know who it is!”

“Who?” Plagg asks, the volume juxtaposing his welder’s.

“I said 'might’.”

The keys click louder. “You mean because you know Ladybug in real life you could have met him before? Or you actually know him?”

“I don’t know! I just know that Marinette’s… She’s in love with another guy.” The earlier exhilaration drains and his chest feels hollow and soul-sucking. “Wait– I can’t ask her to be my fake-girlfriend!”

The destructive god scrolls through the itemised shopping cart to double-check his fromage orders without any fear of his owner noticing. Well you obviously don’t have a choice. Your dad wants her over for dinner. Besides, it’s Ladybug, remember? She’ll do anything to help a friend out.”

Ladybug.

Marinette.

Of course.

There are still many things that don’t add up (Multimouse: just how?) but of course.

He can’t risk his own identity and hers to his father. He must keep the façade up. And if that mean s falling on his knees in front of who unarguably should be the most glorified woman in the world, crying to her to please just be his fake – very much, but unfortunately fake – girlfriend.

He will.

He’ll do it right now.

“I can’t believe you chickened out.”

Walks to school, even with the cost of waking up earlier, are always more refreshing than drives in cold silence. The freedom here is less pale, and he can hiss at Plagg all he wants with only the dignity loss of onlookers noticing him crankily talking to himself.

“Oh wait, yes I can. Because you’re a coward~. ”

“I did not ‘chicken out’,” Adrien snaps. “And I’m no coward. I just— I need to speak to her in person instead. This way, she didn’t have to receive an unwanted call so late.”

“You mean six?”

He huffs. “Marinette needs all the sleep she can get.” He pokes the creature back into his overshirt. “She’s always so busy. Even you’ve seen her collapse in class. Wait—!”

The only one that waits is himself, columned with the line of trees ahead, locked in the interval of his soap opera as his audience darts for a shiny rock near a fire hydrant.

“Because she’s Ladybug too! Of course! Of course! This makes so much sense! She’s so tired and overworked! It’s no wonder she’s all over the place – in the best of ways, I mean, she’s literally adorable when she’s frantic. Wait, have I always thought that? Have I always seen Marinette as the cutest thing ever? Her spluttering is so endearing. And if she’s already so tired, I can’t make her fake date me, too! She’s already so stressed! I’d literally be the scum of the earth if I even dare—”

Plagg is staring at him with flat interest. Humbly aware of his judgement, Adrien swallows, letting the air untense and clams his hands – eager to narrate his animated allegory – in his pockets in strife to get a grip.

He sighs.

“What if I mess it up, Plagg?”

He inventories his new rock in Adrien’s satchel. A hymn of silence roots in the place of what should be a snide remark. But there is no fed-up comment, just a kwami wriggling under his overshirt out of sight and a solemn voice that issues from it,

“Kid, you’re partners. You work together. You forgive each other. You trust each other. And if Ladybug trusts you,” he sticks his head out a little more, “find it in you to trust yourself. You won’t mess this up if you put her and her identity’s safety first, which I know you will, because you love her and you’re a great hero.”

Adrenaline dampening, Adrien smiles.

“Thanks, Plagg.”

Marinette has never believed in bad luck until she met Chat Noir (fifty Mr Pigeon akumatisations this year with a feather allergy? The next lucky charm is going to be an Epi-pen) and for a while, she didn’t believe in good luck, even with being Ladybug.

But that was then. Back then, meaning like, ten minutes ago before she was invited to stay back after PE by Adrien.

Right now, though? Right now, she’s decided she’s going to hand-sew a bedazzled shirt embossed with, “Goddess of Luck” to wear while Ladybug on patrol (and on the back, a quote she woke up to on Instagram this morning: ‘“can also kick ass” – Adrien Agreste’ (she took ten screenshots when he posted that)), because Marinette has good luck.

“You’ll be doing me a huge favour,” the ass-kicking quoter says on an afternoon she has not planned to receive the most exciting request of her life.

And you know what she says?

You know what the stuttering girl who may as well trademark the word ‘GAH’ she falls that much, says?

You’ll never guess.

No really, you won’t.

Because turns out, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than just accomplished.

So what if she thrones the winning title of a Gabriel fashion comp? What even matters of being class president and an all-around likable person? Who takes notice of another fashion mogul inviting you to live in New York because of your talent? ––An invitation you had to decline because, you know, being Paris’ zero-pay superheroine has a sprinkle more of importance. And oh, did she mention she’s Ladybug? Because she’s Ladybug. A superhero.

But none of that matters right now.

“I’d be happy to help.”

Because she’s said yes.

She—Marinette McStutter Dupain-Cheng—has said yes with her mouth (not vague hand animations over blubbering nonsense) to Adrien, and although her muscles are locked with their key over the Eiffel tower (and the tiny detail that her thoughts are screaming so much she can’t hear a thing of his relief and numerous ‘thank you’s), she’s still said yes!

Screw every other accomplishment. She’s said yes to being Adrien’s fake girlfriend.

Ladybug? Nah, that’s Mrs. Fake Agreste to you.

Good luck is real.

Okay but sure, ‘Fake girlfriend’ doesn’t exactly live up to ‘Very real girlfriend’, but being a fake isn’t that bad! She’s seen Lila do it every day for months – oh, hang on, no actually the term ‘fake’ has very negative and huge implications, then. However, in Marinette’s heavenly-blessed case, ‘fake’ means she’s doing a very big favour for a friend and is going to get more time with Adrien – just to name a few positives.

“Seriously Marinette, you have no idea how much this means to me. I can’t believe I’m so lucky to have a friend like you.”

‘Oh honey, I’m the lucky one. ’

“It’s– It’s no problem! Yeah! Really, I’ll come to dinner, no problem! It can’t be too hard. I can be your girlfriend! Eugh– Pretend girlfriend. It’s not hard being in love with you! I mean– Ugh!”

The monstrosity that is the never-shutting-up hole in her face is blocked off by frantic hands, stifling the last of her eloquent groan. But peering up, she realises she really has underestimated how much this means to Adrien, because he looks like he’s poised on a cliff of ecstasy ready to fall – eyes verdant, big, and lushed over with a hue of moisture that twinkles, and a smile so bright and toothy the sunlight hollowing out the remaining shade of the PE stadium glints off it.

In fact, her mess of a speech is such a compliment to Adrien that her locked-limbed body is suddenly engulfed by his. Startled in delightful senses of the word, she squeaks, and he quickly pulls away, face a few rose tones darker than before as his hands twitch at his side unsurely.

“Uhh, I guess we have to get planning.”

She watches in transfixed attraction as Adrien picks both their schoolbags up, finally blurting (without any squeak, she may add),

“Y–Yes. We do.”

(she didn’t say any stutter, so shut up.)

“Would your father let you come over right now since school’s almost finished?”

He casts a look to the exit thoughtfully. His flawless side-profile in high resolution before her, she sees the corner of his mouth quirk up in an unsettling familiar way, as if his whole charisma shifts to someone else’s.

They do need to plan; to run away together, where only they share this odd secret - a place alone together where they'll look each other eye-to-eye and practice their sonnets of love to construct a believable facade for his father-

“It’s more fun sneaking to my girlfriend’s house, isn’t it?”

That time, she squeaks.

And comes to the daunting realisation:

Marinette is screwed.

#I’ll add the @s in the replies cos I know people wanted a part 2 #it took me YONKS to effectively post this #also thanks again to the person who created the idea to let me do this #it’s kinda steered from the envelop theme and a full-fledged fake dating au I guess #miraculous ladybug #ml fic #adrienette #adrinette #identity reveal #original content #em writes

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anakinthetrashking · 5 years ago

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BnHA One-Shot Fic Recs (pt2)

I AM HERE! With more recs for you! The last post was all about DadMight, such a beautiful genre *wipes tear from eye* This time its DADZAWA! if you happen to follow me, you might know that i really really(really) love Aizawa. a lot. So im going to try to keep this to only 10 recs, but,, well,,,, we’ll see anyway leTS GO

Aches and Pains by Badwolf36 Rating: G Category: Gen ~2700 words Summary: In which Izuku isn't willing to admit how much pain he's in, and Mr. Aizawa is just as much of a softie for his students as he always is. I’m always SO WEAK to stories that deal with the very real consequences of breaking all of your bones. Poor Izuku. I enjoyed the details of how he’s feeling, the way that the reader’s awareness of his pain waxes and wanes along with Izuku’s (temporary distractions can only do so much, A+ for realism there). Also, soft Dadzawa while not mushy-ooc-Aizawa! Conclusion: I love this and also want Aizawa to make me hot cocoa when there’s storms and i cant sleep!! (sidenote, everytime i see this username my brain shorts out bc my old ff.net account was also Badwolf## lol)

My Neighbor Shouta-ro by Hound_of_Heaven Rating: G Category: Gen ~2,700 words Summary: Yamada Hizashi, on Christmas Eve of the year he turns 19, jokingly presents Aizawa Shouta, also 19, with a Totoro kigurumi. Everything that follows after is pure chance. Heeeeeeeeeck this is ADORABLE. I- You guys- this is so pure and so precious and so!! go read it, i died. such fluff.

constrained by my own mind (im not fine) by CamsthiSky (tumblr: @camsthisky ) Rating: G Category: Gen ~1,500 words Summary: Midoriya Izuku is a problem child, and for some reason, Aizawa Shouta cares too much to let him fend for himself when the kid is obviously dealing with something First of all this is written by one of my fav Batfam writers!!! I was so hype when i saw this posted and OF COURSE IT WAS JUST AS WONDERFUL IF NOT MORE SO THAN I EXPECTED!!!! A+++++ in character for both Izuku and Aizawa. Izuku is jumpy and anxious and stressed and i love it. That the way Izuku started out, and while i am eternally happy at how much his life and social reactions have already changed, stuff like that doesnt just disappear in even a year, so I love fics that address that and expound on all the progress that he would have to make behind the scenes. and having Aizawa as the catalyst to begin getting actual help? *chef’s kiss* This checks boxes and then proceeds to cover the page in checkmarks LOL

remember from here on in by aloneintherain (tumblr: @captainkirkk ) Rating: T Category: Gen ~8000 words warning: spoiler heavy from manga chp 215 Summary: Aizawa glances from All Might to Midoriya quickly. It sounds impossible—he’s never heard of a quirk that can be handed down like a family heirloom—but at the same time, it makes perfect sense. Midoriya’s inability to use his quirk at the start of the year. The strange, familial relationship between All Might and Midoriya. The slow malnourishment of All Might’s body, like his power was being siphoned away. “You’re …” Aizawa begins.“I’m All Might’s successor.” Midoriya’s proud but shaky voice rings clearly down the empty corridor. Aizawa finds out about One for All. Awwwwwwww yiiiiiiiissssssssss!!!!! reveal fic!!!! one of my all time fav tropes!!! Plus it expounds on some future theorys/possibilities(Spoilers!!!) and you get some great interactions between Izuku and Shinsou, and plenty of opportunities taken to wear out our already worn out catepillar-sensei. poor guy needs a break but would do anything for these kids. Incredible characterization, great feels!!

Those Hardest to Love Need it Most by DancingintheStorm Rating: T Category: Gen ~8,200 words Summary: Shouta gripped the phone tight enough to make the phone case groan. “So it’s true. Midoriya was Quirkless.”“Until soon before the entrance exam,” Nedzu confirmed. “That’s not relevant now, though, because—““Relevant?” Shouta hissed. “Midoriya is barely functional, socially. He doesn’t trust any adult. He thinks the whole world hates him. He apologizes for everything except breaking the law, and I’m sure I can trace every single one of those things back to his Quirklessness. You call that irrelevant?” Aizawa visits Aldera Junior High and finds out some disturbing truths. Yes. Just. Yes. Righteous anger abounds, local anxiety-child is told for the first time that his life has worth, more at 10 (I LOVE THIS ONEEE)

The Gaunlet and friendships and how memes tie the two together by averypassionateperson Rating: T Category: Gen ~3,500 words Summary: Shinsou walks into his first day in the Hero Course hoping to get politely ignored. He walks out having gotten into a sanctioned fistfight with the entire Bakusquad and a whole lot of new friendships. Also, memes are responsible for most of this. This fic is SOOOOOOOOO much fun. Always sure to bring a smile and honestly all I could want from a fic about Shinsou’s first day in 1A!!!

like light through a window by achievingelysium (tumblr: @queenangst ) Rating: T Category: Gen 1,139 words Summary: The first time Shouta sees what Hagakure looks like, it’s because she’s covered in blood. Coming from one of the best Dadzawa writers around, is a delightfully haunting fic centered on Hagakure!! The Dazawa is of course, spot on, the premise makes your heart ache as it plays out like a movie in your mind. So smooth to read, while so emotionally painful. Ouch. It is a fic with imagery that has stuck in my mind like a plant with deep roots, bc i keep thinking about it despite my too-much-fanfic-reading-adhd-muddled-brain. I feel like i had more to say but tumglr erased the paragraph i had originally written. D: (side note, as i am keeping these posts to 10 fics... this fic came from her series of 30 min fics which you can find here on tumblr ao3 its an absolute goldmine of one-shots, go check it out)

a frozen pond, dark and deep by walking_through_autumn Rating: T Category: Gen ~3,800 words Summary: In the aftermath of Endeavour's battle against High End, Aizawa escorts Todoroki to his home for special leave, and they have a conversation that has been long in the making. (Or: Over two car rides and the mystery known as bubble tea, Aizawa divulges information, Todoroki returns the favour, and trust is built over unexpected similarities.) This fic felt just as quiet as the two characters it surrounds, which was really nice. Even deep emotional grieving can be quiet, since everyone feels things and reacts to things differently. It was a brilliant way to chip away at these character’s walls to let light shine through without creating an earthquake event to destroy the walls completely, you know? and it works off of canon so well. ah yes seeing the process of Aizawa realizing that hes has adopted another child is my fav anyhow i enjoyed it very much!

but still my heart is heavy (with the hate of some other man’s beliefs) by honeyandsunshine Rating: T Category: Gen ~3,500 words Summary: Nemuri jerks a thumb to the side window, presumably the one with the best view of the front gates. When Shouta looks, a small crowd, all of which he can recognize from his class, are gathered around a sleazy looking man with a camera and a microphone. Half their quirks are activated. Bakugou and Todoroki are smoking. From the bushes nearby, a rather enraged stag emerges. As he gets up, Shouta just hopes they haven’t already killed him. Or:Class 1-A defends their own. Aizawa suffers, but looks after them anyways. I love how this doesn’t go the way you expect it to. and how much Aizawa loves and trusts his class full of gremlin heroes. The Dadzawa is so soft, his logic is sound, my heart aches, and i kinda want to cry. really, really, really great you guys

bend, don’t break by heyhamlet (tumblr: @hey-hamlet ) Rating: T Category: Gen ~4,100 words Summary: It started, as it always seemed to, on what was supposed to be a pleasant day. ---A Christmas shopping attempt gone wrong, Aizawa and Midoriya have to survive a strange nightmare quirk, all while trying to work out how to get out of there alive. Aizawa is injured, Midoriya is panicked. It's less a question of what could go wrong, but more what could go right. Another fic that has not left my soul since i read it. Some of it is truly terrifying in a way that I hope never haunts my own nightmares. and honestly isnt that reason enough to read it? While near death experiences bond people together well, nothing beats being trapped with someone in a nightmare that is feeding off of your deepest fears! If Aizawa wasn’t considering adoption before, he certainly is now. Found family before the monster finds you...0.o go read it, its a treat from another top notch writer!

well, thats 10! the next post will probably be misc. bnha one-shots. Enjoy and don’t forget to give the writers your souls love and comments!

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winterscaptain · 5 years ago

Text

transfer request. part three.

read part one here and part two here

a/n: this one contains smut because im insufferable so if you’re not 18+, i love you but you gotta stick to part one :) i’m so happy i got the muse for another part to this. i have a request or two in my inbox that i’m working on, but feel free to drop some more!

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Open!

+++

Y/N’s nerves settle as Aaron steps out of the assistant director’s office, closes the door behind him, and flashes her a soothing smile. He offers YN a hand. She takes it and rise, ready for her portion of the evaluation.

“I’m going to get Jack from school, and we’ll be waiting for you when you get home.”

She hums, and squeezes his hand. Her heart’s been racing all morning, and she’s barely been able to focus on the consults piling up on her desk. Didn’t people have better things to do than hurt women in their free time?

Sensing her anxiety, Aaron leans close to her ear and she suppresses a shiver. “I warmed them up for you. You’ll be great.” He presses a quick, casual kiss to her temple. “It’s just a formality – they know everything they need to.”

He releases her as their interim section chief opens the door. So much had happened in the four months between the transfer request and the hearing to address it. The most extreme of which were the death of Erin Strauss and their recent move to the newly-purchased house on the river between Quantico and D.C. It had been hectic, but they were happy to finally know whether Y/N would stay with their work family or not.

When she steps in and sits down, the assistant director looks friendly, albeit tired.

“Good afternoon, Agent.” The director flips a page on his legal pad, and she catches Aaron’s name among his notes.

“Good afternoon, sir. Good afternoon, Chief Leon.” She acknowledges both men with a smile. The interim chief is new to Quantico, but comes well-recommended.

“Thank you so much for coming in with your consult list so long. It is appreciated.”

Not that I had a choice. “No problem, sir. I’m excited to get things settled after...everything.”

“That makes two of us,” Chief Leon says. “Your fortitude and professionalism does not go unnoticed, and I’ve appreciated your welcome as I’ve settled into the interim role.”

She’s not sure, but it sounds like he put a little too much emphasis on interim. Letting it go, she reminds herself that she’s not here to profile but rather to discuss a rapidly-approaching marriage to one Agent Aaron Hotchner. “I’m so glad, sir. I think I can speak for the team when I say the BAU is proud to be under your leadership, no matter how temporary or permanent.”

The assistant director finally finds his footing in his notes and looks up. “Alright, to the situation at hand. How long have you been in a relationship with Agent Hotchner?”

Over breakfast that morning, she and Aaron had bounced their answers off each other, just to make sure everything was lined up for the bureaucratic nightmare that was a formal hearing. “Just over two years, now.”

“Did you disclose your relationship at the time of its inception?”

“No, sir.” It hurt to admit the flagrant policy violation, but it seemed reasonable at the time.

“You are aware that this is not bureau policy, especially seeing as Agent Hotchner is your unit chief.”

“Yes, sir.”

There’s a pause, and the two men look at each other. Interim Chief Leon takes over. “Because we have evidence that your conduct in the field remained unaffected, we have decided to overlook that policy violation. Your team has also advocated for you – Agent Morgan specifically remarking on your,” he checks his notes, “admirable dedication to the team and the support you offer to your unit and unit chief in high-intensity field operations. Agent Jareau spoke of your compassion and patience with the families of victims, and Dr. Reid emphasized the importance of your skillset with children and adolescent psychology. Agent Prentiss also complimented your cohesive work style and support of your unit chief, even in disagreements. Your team is very loyal, and you should be very proud.”

“Thank you, sir.” The tone and company in the room require short and simple answers, but she so wants to defend her decision to maintain the privacy of their relationship. She laces her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting.

“I am continually impressed with the results of the BAU’s fieldwork, and desire to disrupt the team as little as possible so you may continue your high-performance in the field.” The assistant director’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thank you, sir.”

“You are to remain on assignment with the BAU until the re-evaluation of your contract in...” He checks the copy of your contract underneath his legal pad. “three years and four months.”

Remain on assignment? “Thank you, sir.”

Everyone stands, then, and she shakes hands with both men before leaving the assistant director’s office.

If I’m staying, and Aaron didn’t say anything about leaving, then who’s flying the plane?

+++

When she steps into the house, she can hear Aaron and Jack playing video games in the playroom. The sun had yet to set, and she revels in the rare opportunity to share daylight with her family.

Y/N leans against the doorframe as Jack continues to slaughter Aaron in Mario Kart. They’re both sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding the same posture right down to the slight tilt of their heads to the left.

They still don’t notice her after about ten minutes, so she flops down and stretches her torso across Aaron’s lap so her head falls into Jack’s. Jack’s little hands immediately fall into her hair, fingers tangling in whatever he can find.

Aaron lets the controller drop to the floor and stretches his hands to cover a broad swath of her abdomen. His fingers reach from her hip to just under the underwire of her bra.

“What kind of trouble are you getting up to in here?”

Jack giggles and she smiles up at him. He’s upside down from this angle, but he’s still the cutest boy in the world.

“Daddy sucks at Mario Kart.”

Aaron’s hair flops into his eyes as he releases her and reaches over you to tickle Jack. “Hey!”

Y/N laughs and rolls over onto the floor, snatching Jack away from his father by the waist. “C’mon Jack! Run!”

Jack grabs her hands and they run down the hallway, Aaron hot on their heels. Both she and Jack are crying with laughter at this point, and she stumbles as they turn into the living room, slipping on the hardwood in her socks.

Aaron takes advantage of her momentary weakness and pounces, caging her in his arms as he tackles her to the couch. Jack jumps on the both of them, and they rest there for a moment, Aaron half on-top of her with her head pillowed on his arm and Jack clinging to Aaron’s back.

The huge couch was a good investment.

“Hey, Y/N, wanna know something cool?” Jack’s little head tips up and she brushes some caramel hair out of his eyes. It seems to get darker by the day. He needs a haircut. “Always! You know how much I love cool stuff.”

“Dad said he got a new job and that he doesn’t have to go away so much and he’ll pick me up from Aunt Jessica’s every night before dinner.”

She raises her eyebrows and brings a hand to Aaron’s hair. His head is burrowed in her shoulder, absolutely hiding from her prying gaze. “Oh?”

“He also said he and Uncle Dave would help coach my soccer team and I said you can do that now because you have a ring like the other moms.”

That draws a smile from her, and she pulls both of her Hotchner boys close, squeezing them and kissing their heads. “Let’s get dinner on, my loves.”

+++

When Aaron tucks Jack into bed that night, she hangs back at the door. There is nothing quite like watching Aaron with Jack. They’re like different-sized versions of the same person, though there is a good deal of Haley in him. His smile, especially – wide and friendly – reminds Y/N of her often. The framed photos around the house are the strongest recollections of her. Y/N's favorite sits on the mantle with a dried rose from the funeral. It was the first thing she and Aaron unpacked, and Aaron spent many minutes standing before it, barefoot, with her tucked under his arm.

“Do you think she would be happy?” Y/N had asked.

He nodded, wordlessly. “She told me she was when I coded in surgery last year.”

She looked up at him, swallowing thickly when she remembered how close they were to losing him.

Aaron snorted, changing the tone. “She also told me I’d be a fool and an idiot to let you go. She wasn’t surprised when I told her I already knew that.” He adopts her countenance for a moment, imitating her. “Well of course you know, Aaron. Knowing and doing are two very different things.”

Y/N greets that picture every time she walks into the house. Haley, Jack, and Aaron from a decade ago smile back at her. It was their first picture taken as a family: Jack was barely three months old. The newest family photo sits beside it, Y/N’s eight-week (and most recent) ultrasound photo stuck haphazardly into the frame.

As Aaron leans up, she crosses to Jack’s bedside and kneels. The boy reaches for her, and she gathers him into a hug. “How much do I love you, my Jack?”

“More than the whole world,” he says, rote. She had shared that exchange with him long before she and Aaron started seeing each other, and they found it silly to stop now.

She breathes him in, kissing his temple and tucking him back in.

When she and Aaron finally rise and turn the light off, Jack is nearly asleep.

Safe within the confines of the bedroom they share, she raises her eyebrows at Aaron as she removes her shirt to change into pajamas. His eyes catch on her lace-clad chest and she takes the opportunity to change the subject. “New job?”

He huffs and flops on the bed, his shirt only half-unbuttoned, belt in-hand and slacks unzipped. “I didn’t expect him to spring that on you.”

She sits on the opposite edge of the bed and slips her pants off, leaving her only in your matching “I’m going into a scary meeting” set of underwear. Today may have been the last day she could wear them for a while. She leans back, landing next to him and carding her fingers through his hair.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“They offered me the section chief position,” he mumbles into the comforter.

“Aaron! That’s huge!” She shoves at his shoulder and he groans, rolling on his side. She’s almost distracted by the adoring, soft look in his eyes. “Are you going to take it?”

“I asked for the week to decide, but it was just a formality. It’s time, I think, to be home with Jack more.” He reaches up, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “And I wanted to keep you on the team.”

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“The pay increase certainly doesn’t hurt, either,” he adds with a laugh.

She makes herself busy with the remaining buttons on his shirt, and ruck up the tails from his slacks. “Do you get to keep your office? Who’s the new unit chief?”

He laughs again. So many questions. “No, Emily gets my office as the new unit chief under my recommendation. But I get to keep the furniture.”

“Emily?!” Her rapid blush overrides the excitement for her friend. A smirk crosses her face. Aaron’s mirrors yours, and they’re both thinking of one particular late night on the desk a few weeks ago. “That’s good at least. I’d like to be able to sit at her desk and look her in the eye at the same time.” He kisses her soundly. “That would be useful.”

She reaches for him and wiggles into the middle of the bed. “I’ll miss you.” She grins against his mouth. “I’ll miss you in that vest, too.”

He rises fully then, removing the rest of his clothes. She lifts her arms above her head, reaching for him across the bed, looking at him upside-down. He roughly grabs her wrists and firmly tugs her closer to him.

She finds herself quickly surrounded by him, not an inch of her skin left untouched by kisses and caresses.

+++

When he’s finally inside her, and they breathe and kiss and laugh together, they can finally relax. She’s home, he’s home. The life they share together will be one marked with joy, with patience, with understanding.

“I love you,” she says with a gasp as he pushes deep into her, her back arching under him.

“There aren’t words, my love. None.”

He pushes her to your climax with a thumb on her clit, buried deep within her. She sinks her teeth into his shoulder. He follows quickly with a few sloppy thrusts. He doesn’t move even after a few minutes, still completely blissed-out, and she laughs.

She kisses his sweaty forehead, her fingers still tangled in his hair. “So do I get to call you Chief Hotchner when I’m mad at you now?”

He laughs, but it’s cut short by his groan and her hitch in breath when he finally pulls out of her. He takes a moment to recover, pressing his forehead to her chest. “I think,” he says after a moment, “you can stick to Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Benjamin Hotchner, Juris Doctorate for occasions like those.”

At her giggle, he continues.

“While a mouthful, it’s quite effective at getting my attention.”

“I’m so glad to hear that. I would hate to know I’m losing my touch.”

They tuck themselves neatly under the covers, not bothering to clean up. It’s laundry day tomorrow, after all. When she curls against his chest, he covers her hand where it rests over his heart.

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrry-ixn @ange-must-die

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #updated june 20th

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salexectrian-heir · 4 years ago

Text

messages from last night update

chapter below the cut | ao3 link

✧ Oracle ✧

SEPT 1ST 4:57 AM

[Joker] Hi

[Joker] Story time

[✧ Oracle ✧] i see yusuke returned ur phone

[Joker] Aha, yeah. After swearing on my life I would not make any more poor life choices

[Joker] I assume that was your doing

[✧ Oracle ✧] ur welcome

[Joker] Hmm well I might not have sworn hard enough

[✧ Oracle ✧] ???

[Joker] bet you 500 yen you can’t guess where I woke up this morning (without hacking my location)

[✧ Oracle ✧] oh god akira… jail?

[✧ Oracle ✧] again??!

[Joker] No

[Joker] Better

[✧ Oracle ✧] !!?

[Joker] On the catwalk of the auditorium

[✧ Oracle ✧] BRUH

[✧ Oracle ✧] didnt yusuke like walk u home???

[Joker] He did

[Joker] I just didn’t stay home after

[✧ Oracle ✧] (-_-;)・・・

[✧ Oracle ✧] but don’t they lock up the buildings at night….

[Joker] ...

[✧ Oracle ✧] also i’m p sure catwalks are at least fifteen meters in the air??

[Joker] ...

[Joker] I am surprisingly still very dexterous while intoxicated

[✧ Oracle ✧] o m g

[✧ Oracle ✧] what possessed u to sneak out of the dorm, pick a lock, scale scaffolding, and fall asleep on a metal beam is / literally / beyond me

[Joker] Me too, It's all very...fuzzy after getting back to the dorms

[Joker] Maybe I was a cat in a past life

[✧ Oracle ✧] cat!kira

[✧ Oracle ✧] congrats u now have a fursona to add to your growing list of ‘sonas

[Joker] Cat!kira go prrr?

[✧ Oracle ✧] HAHAH a self-drag?

[✧ Oracle ✧] Someone truly is hungover and regretting his life choices

[Joker] Jokes aside, all that flexibility training I did in hs apparently paid off

[Joker] I have no new bruises or injuries that I am aware of so I made it up in one piece. Somehow.

[✧ Oracle ✧] wait hold up I thot all that “training” u’d say u were doing was just like horny akira code for “going to mess around with Sumi after school”

[✧ Oracle ✧] don’t tell me u actually were doing gymnastics with her that whole time

[Joker] Okay

[✧ Oracle ✧] ????

[Joker] You literally just told me not to tell you

[✧ Oracle ✧] but was i right?! i NEED to kno if i was right

[Joker] Haha yes and no

[Joker] We did both

[Joker] is typing...

[✧ Oracle ✧] oKAY OKAY OKAY NO DETAILS (SAVE THOSE FOR ANN)

[✧ Oracle ✧] JUST CONFIRMATION THANK U next

[Joker] You have written fanfic more explicit than anything I could ever tell you I’ve done, AND I PROOF READ IT FOR YOU

[✧ Oracle ✧] ヽ(•//д//•)ノ [ok true]

[✧ Oracle ✧] but

[✧ Oracle ✧] ヽ(•̀//д//•́)ノ

[Joker] Ik Ik, I’m teasing. I won’t corrupt your virginal ears

[✧ Oracle ✧] /anyway/ people r gonna be mad jealous when they find out u dated an olympic gymnast

[Joker] She wasn’t one when we dated though so technically I didn’t

[Joker] She found out she qualified shortly before we went back to being just friends

[Joker] I think we’re both much happier this way

[✧ Oracle ✧] Obviously. you still talk to her??

[Joker] Yeah

[Joker] We caught up before the semester started

[Joker] She said she was nervous, but that’s to be expected when you’re on the global stage. Aside from that she’s fitting in really well with her new teammates. She just wishes Kasumi could have been a part of it

[✧ Oracle ✧] </3

[Joker] Yeah :( </3

[Joker] But she’s good

[Joker] Still calls me senpai though...which idk how to feel about that

[✧ Oracle ✧] lol its ~cute~

[Joker] Hmm leaning towards don’t think so

[✧ Oracle ✧] “oh ~senpai~ you’ll still watch me compete in the olympics on TV right?”

[Joker] ...did you listen in on the call

[✧ Oracle ✧] no

[Joker] “no,” she lied like a liar (I know you still have my phone bugged damn it)

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1ST 5:01 AM

[✧ Oracle ✧] *kicks down the door to the thieves den*

[✧ Oracle ✧] INARI U FAILED

[✧ Oracle ✧] GUESS WHERE AKIRA IS

[✧ Oracle ✧] (hint: not where he’s supposed 2 be)

[Fox] Preposterous! He was safely returned to his dorm room. I personally put him to bed.

[Panther] you stayed over in their dorm room Fox… isn’t he in there w/you??

[Fox] is typing...

[Fox] Ah. It appears that I am in his bed and Akira is indeed missing. I was on the floor when we went to sleep. I have no recollection of this transfer.

[Fox] I have awoken Ryuji but all he has done is throw his possessions at me in an attempt to silence my “pestering” so I do not think he will be of any help in this situation.

[Joker] Don’t bother with him Fox. He isn’t responsive until at least 9am after a night out.

[Joker] Also, why aren’t the rest of you sleeping?

[Panther] Joker! you’re alive!!! are you okay???????

[Joker] Define okay

[✧ Oracle ✧] *cackles*

[Panther] where are you?!?

[Joker] You aren’t going to guess?

[Panther] jail?

[Fox] Please let it not be true your detective arrested you last night, and you are suffering in incarceration as we type.

[Joker] Why is jail everyone’s first guess? I was only arrested once!

[Joker] Fuck

[Joker] Also, he is not “my” detective

[Fox] is typing…

[✧ Oracle ✧] u sure about that

[Joker] Oh no

[✧ Oracle ✧] pls reread our messages from last night

[Joker] Oh GOD

[✧ Oracle ✧] *cackles louder*

[✧ Oracle ✧] i can’t wait to hear what inari is about to dish out

[Panther] wait what did akira say to you @ ✧ Oracle ✧?!

[Joker] Futaba please *softly* don’t

[Fox] Last night I had to relieve you of your phone before you texted the detective prince incriminating evidence of your state of inebriation and infatuation. You were adamant that you had to send him a picture of a cat as a token of your feelings, which I objected as the image you selected was not flattering of the cat. I may have just met you a few days ago, so please tell me if I am overstepping my bounds, but I do not think sending hideous pictures of cats is a wise way of winning over this man’s affections.

[✧ Oracle ✧] pls show us the picture he wanted to send

[Fox]

[Panther] Hahahah oh akira

[✧ Oracle ✧]

[Joker] …

[Joker] I’ll be staying at this undisclosed location until further notice

[Panther] no Akira!!! seriously where are you??

[Joker] the_view_is_nice.image

[Panther] :O

[Panther] how did you get up that high???

[✧ Oracle ✧] gymnastics training

[Panther] huh? i didn’t know you were a gymnast Akira!!

[✧ Oracle ✧] im sure he’ll tell u all about it now

[Joker] -____-

[Fox] I cannot believe I failed my first mission as the Chosen One.

[✧ Oracle ✧] i can

[Fox] is typing…

[Panther] @ ✧ Oracle ✧!!!!!!

[✧ Oracle ✧] kek

[Fox] I am an utter disgrace to this friendship. How can I even call this a friendship when I have done nothing but leech from the kindness you all have bestowed upon me. How will I ever be able to show my face among you, those whom I have failed. I must atone for the shame I have wrought.

[Joker] You didn’t fail @ Fox, and you are not a disgrace. It was my fault. I was the shitty friend in this situation. I’ll make it up to everyone, and to you Fox. I’ll think of something.

[Fox] Food would suffice.

[Joker] Dinner for a week it is.

[Fox] Delightful!

[Panther] wow he got over that fast

[✧ Oracle ✧] welcome to being friends with Inari, the path of forgiveness is through his stomach

***

✧ Oracle ✧

SEPT 1st 5:07 AM

[Joker] Slight problem

[Joker] I actually have no idea how to get down

[✧ Oracle ✧] u really r part f*cking cat

***

Regrettably, some of his life choices last night did him no favors.

Mistakes had been made. Limits and Lessons had been learned. Unfortunately the hard way.

After miraculously finding a way down off the catwalk without injury into his dorm shower and a fresh set of clothes, Akira managed to show up for his opening shift at Big Bang Blends ten minutes early.

Haru took one look at him when he slinked into the kitchen and immediately said, “Oh dear.”

Akira spun a damp curl around his finger. “That bad, huh?”

“Uhm.” Haru offered him a wobbling, pitiful smile. “You kind of look like how I would imagine a cat that got caught outside in the rain might feel.”

He let out a self-deprecating chuckle and wandered over to the apron rack. “Fair comparison.” Selecting his off its hook, he pulled it over his head. “I’d add on that the cat also got stuck in a tree and developed a splitting migraine.”

“I know just the thing that’ll sort you out!” Haru hovered over to Akira’s side. “Whenever I--” she paused, considering her words with a finger to her lip, “overindulge,” she settled on with a giggle, “I’ll make myself a cup of my special tea. It instantly clears my head and calms my stomach.”

Akira’s stomach rolled unpleasantly. “ Special tea ?”

Haru nodded vigorously. “It works like a charm! And I’m not just saying that because I drink it, I have a friend--well, I might be overstepping if I were to call him that, we aren’t that close,” Haru sighed, “but I make it for him too when he occasionally stumbles in here in a similar state.”

“Do I want to know what’s in it?” he asked hesitantly.

Haru beamed brightly at him. “No.”

Akira groaned.

“I promise it’ll work,” Haru said, wandering out of the kitchen and over to her collection of loose leaf teas that were displayed in clear, sealed jars behind the counter. She called back to him, “You’ll perk up in no time!”

He gave her a weak thumbs up.

Picking up the task list from the side of the walk in freezer, he resigned himself to his fate of ingesting whatever the fuck concotion Haru was going to feed him. It couldn’t have been worse than what he drank last night. In all honesty, he would have been feeling way, way, worse if Yusuke hadn’t convinced him to drink so much water when they got back. Akira would like to think the fact he wasn’t curled up on the floor in the fetal position on the cafe floor was also thanks in part to the Amazake he had chosen to drink the night prior too. But the thought of the non-alcoholic sake made his stomach churn harder so he stopped that train of thought immediately, and focused on setting up the dining area. His head felt like it weighed five pounds heavier than it usually did, which made moving it a bit of a hassle, but he had the opening sheet to finish before the cafe opened and he’d damn himself if he didn’t deliver.

What his stomach did seem safe to think about was luck stats, and that maybe Futaba was onto something when she had made that off hand comment in their chat last night. Akira was incredibly lucky to have landed two bosses ( three if he counted Sojiro but the man was more like a father than he ever was a boss) who cared more about his well being as a person than as a source of cheap labor. Watching Haru make his tea as he flipped chairs down off the tables only amplified his guilt of showing up before her utterly and unmistakably hungover.

Being the sloppy friend did not sit well with Akira.

He swore to himself as he pushed in the last chair he took down that this was the first and last time he ever did anything as stupid and irresponsible as he did last night. Not to mention, his luck wouldn’t last if he kept this up. He’d make it up to everyone somehow, and Haru in particular now. He wouldn’t let his current state impact his work.

And once he stopped feeling like dogshit and could form a coherent argument, he was going to have a long, hard talk with whichever one of his personas decided it would be great fucking idea to drink so much, scale the interior of the theatre, and fall asleep on a steel beam no greater than sixty centimeters in width. Because honestly, what the fuck ?

Even In high school, his “peak stupidity” years, he hadn’t done anything as dumb as this.

Okay, well, that was a lie.

He had done a lot of stupid, often illegal things (see: petty theft, breaking and entering) in high school that to him, had been justified. He was quite gifted at stealing and knew his way around a lock with professional proficiency, and he had gotten away with it unscathed for a very long time.

Except for the whole getting arrested and put on probation thing , which ironically had been for a crime he didn’t actually commit.

“It’s ready!”

“Thanks, Haru.”

Akira swung by the to-go counter reaching for the mystery tea waiting for him and continued on.

After thirty minutes of sipping on whatever miracle cure Haru brewed as he checked off the morning set up tasks, it fucking kicked in. The mind fog and nausea disappeared almost entirely, settling his stomach enough that he was able to keep down some Advil and melon pan with Haru for breakfast. Akira could handle the headache until the medicine took over.

He just couldn’t move too fast or too sudden (Akira was still a little too off balance for that), or turn his neck sharply (thanks to what he had drunkenly decided to use as a pillow the night before). But he powered through it as he set about stocking the various coffee beans in their containers.

The last item on the task sheet they completed together. Prepping the food items for the pastry case with all of the baked goods Haru had made the night before. In addition to mochi, goma dango, and other pastries one would expect to enjoy with tea and coffee, there was always some kind of cake. Meticulously and lovingly decorated, sliced by hand that Haru showcased in her cake display. Today’s selection was a daring one, a pink lemonade cake with delicately applied ombre pink frosting and topped with candied lemon slices that were evenly spaced, each sitting on an artful dollop of whipped white icing.

“Did you want to try a piece, Akira-kun?”

Akira glanced over from where he was sliding a tray of nerikiri into the case. A plate with a modest slice was being extended to him. Eyeing the color up close, his stomach protested. Apparently still a little too hungover to test the limits of his digestive tract with such an extravagant confection.

“It looks amazing, but I think I’ll stick to the melon pan this time Haru.”

“I can always save it for la--”

A sharp series of knocks interrupted their conversation.

From his position squatting on the floor, he checked the time on his phone. There were still five minutes until the cafe officially opened for the day. Haru had warned him there were always a few people who showed up early and failed to read the sign.

“I’ll get it,” Akira sighed, sliding the door of the pastry case shut. “You finish with the cake. I’ll handle our impatient caffeine addict.”

“Oh don’t worry the cake’s all done, I just cut the last slice.” Haru waved Akira off. “I can get him.”

Him?

He hastily straightened up, brushing a few stray sugary crumbs off his apron and immediately looked over at the entrance. Every muscle in his body seized up. Waiting outside the glass doors was one impeccably dressed and restless looking Akechi Goro. Akechi rolled his shoulder, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag while he checked his phone.

The message Akira sent Akechi last night intrusively echoed in his head the moment the former detective looked up and locked eyes with him. Pocketing his phone into his suit jacket (it had to be custom fit, because there was no way it could have cut his figure that well without tailoring), he lifted his chin ever so slightly. Akechi’s expression twisted wickedly into something that short circuited Akira’s brain.

Oh.

Fuck .

A war waged between two primal instincts in Akira’s body at the sight, the overwhelming urge to run in the face of danger clashing with a tidal wave of lust. The rush coursed through his veins, freezing him in place. Much like prey that had been cornered, his heart began to thrash against his ribs.

Akechi’s grin was sharp and salacious, a stark contrast to the innocent and winsome smile that the T.V. ready Prince so often wore. Akira didn’t know him all that well (... yet ), but God , that smile just seemed to suit Akechi so much better.

Akira got to witness this side of Akechi knowing it was reserved for only him for about two whole seconds before Akechi’s face changed, shifting into his composed, manufactured doll-like mask when Haru made it over to let him in.

The transformation gave Akira something pretty close to whiplash.

Really arousing whiplash.

“Good morning Akechi-san,” she greeted him, holding the door open with a warm smile.

“And same to you, Okumura-san,” he returned politely, stepping past her and into the cafe proper. “Pardon my early arrival, I have quite the busy day planned unfortunately and was hoping to get a jump start.” He brushed aside a few strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes with a gloved hand. “I hope your morning has been going well.”

“It’s barely started,” Akira muttered, reaching for a to-go cup to start Akechi’s order to busy himself with so he wouldn’t stare at the breathtakingly handsome man in front of him. His heart needed a break already.

Instead of writing Akechi’s name, he doodled a pair of handcuffs with the bold letters A and G within the negative space in each cuff (Akira admired his work for a brief moment and thought Yusuke would be proud). He marked the drink as a caramel latte, recalling what Haru had put down on his cup yesterday. Then proceeded to make a pour over instead.

Haru flipped the sign to open, and then said, “Very well, so far! I tried out a new cake recipe, you have to try it.”

Akechi laughed, and Akira’s stomach clenched--but this time in an all too pleasant way. Akira diverted his attention from grinding the beans for his drink to watch the detective ( Fuck! ) The sound was light and lyrical, and after what Akira witnessed… sounded totally out of place coming out of the same mouth that had held that smug, voracious grin a moment ago.

“As much as I would love to, I must decline. I cannot get into the habit of having cake for breakfast.”

“Then you must take a slice with you!” Haru walked past him and over to her cake display, lifting the glass lid and taking a piece out.

“Alright, if you insist,” Akechi conceded, coming to a stop in front of Akira, who moved on to scooping the grounds into the damp filter. The proximity made it near impossible to keep his eyes off the detective, but Akira somehow managed it, forcing himself to pay attention to his pour.

“Actually, would you mind if I borrowed your barista for a moment, Okumura-san?”

Akira snapped his head up from his preparations and met Akechi’s eyes once more ( God damnit! ). Which was a really dumb idea as a shock of pain spiked down his neck. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop from wincing.

A dangerous glint appeared in that maroon gaze that catapulted Akira’s thundering heart into his throat.

“Is he in trouble?” Haru peered over her shoulder from where she was packing a bright pink slice of cake into a to-go container.

“He might be,” Goro murmured just loud enough for Akira to hear, then broke their eye contact to address Haru, “I assure you, nothing of the sort.” He smiled that infuriatingly fake smile at her, complete with an innocent tilt of his head. “I just need to ask him a few questions, in private.”

Haru shot Akira a questioning stare, Do you need me to say no?

He shrugged nonchalantly, or as nonchalantly as someone who was having a very intense internal meltdown over an insanely attractive man could, and said, “It’s fine, Haru.” He continued to pour the scalding water in a circular motion over the coffee grounds in the filter, doing his best to quiet all the alarm bells in his head.

His response must have come off convincingly enough because Haru nodded and said, “Well, I can’t see why that would be a problem.” She hesitantly returned Akechi’s smile. “But I will need him back in a bit when the morning rush hits.”

“This shouldn’t take too long,” Akechi turned and gestured to a table in the corner of the cafe--far away enough from the counter that Haru couldn’t possibly overhear their conversation. Then under his breath he added, “As long as Kurusu-kun doesn’t resist, that is.”

Akira cleared his throat, willing his throbbing heart to drop back into its cage between his ribs. “Go on, I”ll join you when I’m finished.”

Akechi nodded, leaving the yen for his coffee on the counter and sauntered away. Akira topped off the pour over and transferred the liquid into the to-go cup. On his way around the counter he snagged what was left of his miracle tea and took a swig. He hoped it would replenish his mental reserves to handle the upcoming verbal sparring match he was sure he was about to walk into.

Akechi, in his immaculate glory, was leaning back in his chair languidly with one dark clad leg crossed. He watched Akira closely as he wandered over with their drinks. Akira suddenly felt incredibly out classed and underdressed in his usual cardigan-v neck combo he had going on compared to Akechi’s tan suit jacket and pressed button down shirt.

He slid into the seat opposite Akechi and pushed his coffee across the table. Akechi nodded in thanks and brought it to his lips.

Akira pretended he didn’t watch the way Akechi’s throat moved as he swallowed his first sip.

The detective hummed approvingly. “Black.”

“The way you actually like it,” Akira said with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Is it now,” Akechi chuckled darkly against the lid still pressed to his lips. “Sadly, my coffee preferences are the extent of where your knowledge of me ends.”

In the tenuous silence that descended after that statement, they sipped at their respective drinks. Gazes not once wavering off one another.

“I assume you know why I’m here,” Akechi finally said, cutting the tension.

“When I said ‘come get me ’ I didn’t mean ‘corner me at work ’,” Akira hissed over his cup of miracle tea.

He could think of many other, far more superior places he would have loved to be cornered by Akechi in. But Akira kept that part to himself.

The detective leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. “You do realize if this were a real investigation and I caught you as unaware as you were this morning, you being at work with your Boss present wouldn’t have deterred me.”

Akira stole a glance at Haru, who was busy writing the specials of the day on their blackboard, then drained the rest of his tea.

Akechi followed his gaze and continued on in a saccharine tone that contradicted the alluring smile his mouth had split into again, “But since it’s not, I highly doubt you want an audience for when I bend you over the counter and take what I want from you.”

Akira promptly choked.

Any lingering doubt Akira may have had about Akechi’s preferences evaporated. Akechi knew exactly what he was saying. He had to have, right? There was no heterosexual explanation for that response.

Point to Akechi, he thought, accepting the fact his face was probably as red as the flowering plant hovering three inches above his head.

“How considerate,” Akira managed to rasp once he got his tea to go down his throat correctly. Swallowing burned like a bitch. Now he had to deal with a sore throat on top of the rebellion being staged by his heart and stomach, and the leftover vertigo from his hangover.

“Will you hand it over now?” the detective asked with a hint of sugar coated venom.

“Hate to disappoint, but you’ll be walking away empty handed this morning. I left it in my room.”

Which wasn’t a lie. In his haste to recover from last night’s escapade and get to work on time, he hadn’t thought to grab the handkerchief. The last thing he expected was this.

“I think you’re sending me mixed signals.”.

“Am I?”

“You tell me you want one thing, then act like you didn’t expect it to come to fruition when I follow through on it so I’m curious,” Akechi titled his head and his hair shifted, shining ethereally in the early morning sun streaming through the window. “What is it you really want, Kurusu?”

For you to fuck my brains out, Akira thought. But admitting that so bluntly to Akechi’s face felt like defeat. So, he kept the stupid illusion of their game going and leaned in.

“I want to see if the Detective Prince is really as good at his job as the rumors say he is.” Akira mirrored the detective’s head tilt and offered him a crooked grin. “I won’t be that easy.”

“If you want me to physically remove it from your person, then I must insist from this point forward you carry it with you. If every time I corner you, you… aren’t ready,” Akechi’s smile grew wider, “then doesn’t that defeat the purpose? And unlike you it seems, my time and attention is limited.”

“Rude.” Akira mimicked the detective’s posture, dropping his chin into his palm. “My time is limited too. I just can’t have you stalking me at work. And--” what Akira really meant to say next was , I cannot possibly work and retain my sanity with you watching me like that all the time. But instead said, “--Think of Okumura-san’s business. You’ll scare away her customers.”

Akechi shot him an unimpressed look. “Somehow I highly doubt that.”

Wow. Cocky bastard.

"Well,” Akira said, changing tactics by imbuing a little bit of truth, “I imagine you can relate to not wanting to be distracted at work, with your fans and all.”

“They can be...rather inconvenient at times, yes.” Akechi studied him intently. “Alright then. Let’s make a deal.”

“Making a deal with the enemy? Akechi,” Akira feigned a gasp, “don’t tell me you’re a dirty cop.”

The detective snorted into his coffee. “I’m going to choose not to entertain that comment and suggest we establish some ground rules.”

“I thought rules didn’t exist in investigations,” Akira said mischievously.

“Like I previously stated, good thing this isn’t one, then?”

They shared a private smile.

“I propose this,” Akechi said, straightening up, hands clasped on the table. “From this point on, you will carry it on your person. I will catch you off guard within the next two weeks and take back what is rightfully mine. Our working hours are exempt from this. Obviously, the common spaces in the dormitory will be too by default. Should you ever need me as your RA, that will come first and foremost, I take my duties seriously. As should you. I think you’ll find these terms agreeable and respectful of each other’s time. Unless there are any other locations you want to deem off limits.”

Akira made a show of considering Akechi’s words, tapping a finger against his cheek. This was literally the most drawn out, intellectually charged foreplay Akira had ever engaged in but he couldn’t say it didn’t excite him. In fact, there was something exhilarating about it.

“No. Everywhere else is fair game.”

“Really?” Akechi inquired, grin breaching that rapacious territory again. “Be careful what you agree to, Kurusu.”

Akira shrugged and leaned back.

“So,” Akechi prompted, “you won’t say no, will you?”

Of course he was going to accept. So Akira simply said, “I think I’ll hold on to your handkerchief.” And then held out his hand. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Hah, excellent,” Akechi smiled and shook it firmly. The leather was soft and warm as it dragged against Akira’s palm. “Otherwise, I will be forced to order a room inspection and somehow I doubt that is how you want this to play out.”

“If you are inspecting the room while I’m in it, then I might be.”

Right after the words left his mouth, the logical part of his brain that wasn’t stuck on being hungover and horny on main finally spoke up and reminded him of the very important, expulsion worthy, major cockblock that was currently being housed in his room: Morgana.

But then Akechi’s mouth upturned devilishly, and suddenly Akira decided he’d cross that furry bridge when he got to it.

“Well, then. I must be off. Thank you for the coffee,” Akechi said, dropping Akira’s hand as he stood up. “I have an interview taping in…” he checked his phone and sighed, “just over an hour. Hopefully the trains are on schedule.”

Akira tilted his head. “Still doing those?”

“Yes, keeping up appearances on behalf of the precinct,” Akechi explained, “I may be officially on hiatus as a full time student, but I still pick up cases from time to time. The media wants to know how I balance it all.”

“Ah. Explains the get up.”

Akechi bristled at the comment, his nose wrinkling ( cute! ) and brows drawing down as he straightened his already perfectly straight tie. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Nothing,” Akira teased with a lilt in voice, “It’s nice, maybe a little stuffy.” He deliberately looked Akechi up and down. “But I bet you’d look better out of it, judging by what I saw you wear the last time you showed up here.” He couldn’t fight the coy smile his mouth twisted into even if he tried. “If you’re looking to show off, those shorts from yesterday would do a better job.”

The call out was meant to fluster Akechi, but the detective’s face remained remarkably even toned. Flawless even. Too flawless.

Could he be... he's totally wearing makeup.

Akira lifted a brow pointedly.

That did the trick, earning Akira a heated glare before Akechi turned his head sharply away. The movement roughly shifted the hair around his face, revealing a sliver of skin previously hidden. To Akira’s rapidly dawning delight, the detective’s neck was rapidly turning pink.

“Shut. Up. Kurusu.”

Oh, so Akechi blushes all the way down when he’s flustered. Fascinating. Akira filed the thought away for… later.

For totally innocent purposes.

Totally.

Akira stood up and slipped in front of Akechi, demanding to be looked at. Giddy with his new discovery. “Oh? What’s this? He can dish it out but can’t take it?”

Akechi’s eyes flashed as he brought himself up to his full height, and stepped into Akira’s space. Scowling down the few centimeters he had on him, he forced Akira to take a step back. “You,” he said lowly, continuing to move forward, making Akira walk backwards until his back hit the counter, “are a brat .”

“Just figuring that out now, detective?” Akira smirked. “I thought that was obvious.”

From this close Akira could see just how gorgeous the detective’s eyes truly were. Flecks of light red dotted the center most part of his eyes, giving off the illusion of glittering in the light. He was close enough that if Akira leaned in a fraction more their noses would touch.

A very polite, soft cough came from somewhere on Akira's right.

The detective’s eyes widened in shock. He quickly put space between them again and turned to face Haru, who was standing in between the kitchen and the counter area looking anywhere but at them.

Akira owed her now a second apology.

“I wish both of you a good day,” Akechi gracefully recovered and turned on his heel. He flexed his shoulders as he opened the door but stopped with one foot out the door.

“Oh, and Kurusu-kun?” Akechi turned halfway to face him, “Be sure to check your email this afternoon.”

And then he was gone.

***

It’s Always Snack Time in Tokyo

SEPT 1ST 8:00 AM

[Takuto Maruki] Hello! I was going to wait until I saw you in person, but I can’t resist telling you the good news! I submitted the paperwork to bring on an official research assistant. The chair of the department should grant me an answer by the end of the week. The position is yours once I get the documented approval.

[Takuto Maruki] That is, if you are still interested in conducting research with me like you did over the summer

[Akira Kurusu] I am

[Takuto Maruki] Even more wonderful!

[Akira Kurusu] Won’t it be unethical if you don’t let other people apply for the position though?

[Akira Kurusu] You can’t play favoritism

[Takuto Maruki] I, fortunately, get to make the rules in this situation and I wrote that I could appoint the position to any student that met certain criteria and showed promise in the field

[Akira Kurusu] You literally wrote the position description so that only I fit that criteria, didn’t you

[Takuto Maruki] You would be correct! :D

[Takuto Maruki] So if you’re free and want to get a jump start on assisting, I was hoping to recruit you this upcoming Friday to proctor an exam.

[Akira Kurusu] An exam? The second week of class? Savage Sensei

[Takuto Maruki] It is a 300 level that meets M/W/F so the curriculum moves fast. This cohort in particular is grasping the concepts at a much faster rate than the other two I teach for this course.

[Akira Kurusu] When is it? I open the cafe Friday mornings

[Takuto Maruki] 2pm

[Akira Kurusu] Okay, I can make that work. I’ll be there

[Takuto Maruki] Wonderful! :)

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1st 11:12 AM

[Skull] yo i am not back readin any of that

[Skull] wat did i miss?

✧ Oracle ✧ Changed Skull to Edgelord Can’t Read

[Edgelord Can’t Read] I CAN EFFIN’ READ!!!

[Edgelord Can’t Read] i said i wasn’t gonna, not that i cant big difference

[Edgelord Can’t Read] ur the one who cant read

[✧ Oracle ✧] wow gr8 comeback edgelord im so offended. what r we 7yrs old

[Edgelord Can’t Read] shuddup

***

Gotta Go Fast

SEPT 1st 11:28 AM

[Skull] BRO A CATWALK?! WTF?!?

[Skull] how the eff did u get down??

[Joker] My amazing cat-like reflexes

[Skull] bro

[Skull] how u feelin btw

[Joker] You know that feeling you get when you’re about to go over the hill on a rollercoaster?

[Joker] Like that

[Skull] oof

[Skull] ill make u my ma’s soup when ur shifts over, its the best for this kinda shit

[Joker] Why is everyone being so understanding with me today

[Skull] were ur friends man we gotchu

[Joker] alsdjflskf

[Skull] uh did the rollercoaster drop or smth

[Joker] Haha no

[Joker] Thanks Ryuji

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1st 2:01 PM

[Edgelord Can’t Read] UH HOLY SHIT EVERYONE CHECK UR EMAILS

[Panther] what?? why??

[✧ Oracle ✧] im surprised u even read ur email

[Joker] Oh.

[Joker] Fuck.

***

To: Shujin Hall_5th Floor

From: Akechi Goro; Niijima Makoto

CC: Kawakami Sadayo

Subject: Violation of Dormitory Rules

Dear Fifth Floor Residents of Shujin Hall,

This is a friendly reminder that there is a strict No Pets Policy in this Residence Hall. A contraband item, a can of pet food, was located on the floor inside the trash room on Friday night. As such, we will be conducting room inspections beginning tomorrow, starting with rooms located in the Girls’ Wing. Let this be an example to all that the consequences for violating this rule will be termination of their dormitory agreement and the loss of their on campus housing status. Any additional charges will be determined by the Residence Hall Director, Kawakami Sadayo.

If you have any further information on this subject, please feel free to contact us.

We hope you have a wonderful rest of your weekend.

Sincerely,

Your Resident Assistants

Akechi Goro

University of Tokyo | Class of 20XX Criminal Justice / Psychology Major | Philosophy Minor [email protected]

Niijima Makoto

University of Tokyo | Class of 20XX Criminal Justice Major | Psychology & Law Minor [email protected]

#akeshu #shuake #akeshuake #goro akechi #persona 5 royal #persona 5 #akira kurusu #goro akechi x akira kurusu

17 notes · View notes

memoriashell · 4 years ago

Text

with age comes wisdom ( or at the very least, entirely unneccessary celebrations )

Characters / Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru ( focused ), Syo / Komaru, Warriors of Hope

crossposted on ao3

Notes: happy @tokomaruweek week everyone!! i love these funky wlw so i am going to try and have some stuff up this week, but i probably won’t manage to do the whole week / i'll go back to do the ones i miss afterwards? we’ll see.

for today i decided to combine the birthdays + warriors of hope prompts.

i’m also just ignoring canon’s timeline bc god knows i did not want to figure out that bs sorry dr3 ily but i dont love you that much just know it is somewhere post sdr2 / pre dr3 probably?

i also use they/them for syo ( nonbinary hc ) and while there aren’t any specific trauma mentions, given the group of characters this revolves around, there’s refrences to the fact they have shit lives. and some lighthearted murder jokes and self-deprication?

Summary: nothing says happy birthday quite like babysitting her ( favorite ) group of brats

It’s just her luck that this would happen— a coincidence for sure, but that doesn’t make Touko any happier about the whole thing.

This is the situation: they don’t usually see the ( former ) Warriors of Hope much. The kids stay on their side of Towa, and her and Komaru tend to stick closer to the adults. The adults are the ones that need to be kept under supervision, in her opinion. Not that the kids are blameless, but is there much reasoning with brainwashed kids? No. Of course not. Are the adults also practically brainwashed and hard to reason with. Yes. Would this all be easier if Future Foundation was involved? Yes. Yes it would, but for obvious reasons they are not ( they have all agreed to omit some information from public record for the sake of those involved, and right now Naegi’s stunt with the Remnants have Future Foundation’s attention away from them ).

Sometimes Komaru takes some of the things that they get over to the kids because things are rough enough as it is, and Syo will go with her because they can keep the Monokuma off their tracks better. Or you know, because Syo is generally more helpful to Komaru when it comes to things like that. She’s not jealous.

Allegedly— Touko does not know this for a fact herself since she hadn’t been fronting, and only learns this second hand while she is in the middle of typing up a report to send back to the foundation— Kotoko is the one to bring it up, casually handing off some of her share of the cookies Komaru had made for them, to Jataro. An early birthday present, she had said ( pointedly ignoring Nagisa, who’d pointed out she had given Jataro the ones he hated ), before turning to Komaru to ask if they could throw a party. A small one. With no murder, because that would be ‘totally not adorbs’. And no adults, because they stink ( it goes unsaid that Komaru and Touko themselves are the clear exception to this rule, which is some kind of progress, supposedly ).

That seemed like a fairly reasonable request, according to Komaru, who’s only response was to ask when his birthday was. And then accidentally lets it slip that hey, that’s the week that Touko-chan’s birthday is! And that’s how Touko finds out that apparently, she’s having a joint birthday party with the kids because Masaru managed to turn a party into a competition, somehow? Touko has no clue what that actually entails, because Komaru refuses to elaborate.

( Also, at one point before leaving, Komaru had tried asking Jataro if there was anything she could get him; to which he’d remarked, “A new mask?”

...Yeah, Touko can’t blame her for not knowing what to say to that, even if Komaru had spun it as not the most self-deprecating thing he could have said, which was an improvement? She personally disagrees, but whatever )

Here, she should point out the obvious fact that she does not want to really celebrate her birthday, let alone have a party for it. Because those kind of things lean so far into the zone of things Touko doesn’t really know how to handle, that it makes her close to uncomfortable. And if— if she had humored herself in imagining how she would ideally spend her birthday this year; quite frankly, it would be very quiet and boring and only with Komaru. Not with a group of ten year olds. Ten year olds that she might think of rather fondly, but ten year old brats all the same.

( It’s not like she has any alive friends: if Touko acknowledges the other survivors, justifiably they are too busy with more important matters to fuss over a birthday. They aren’t kids anymore. Some of them hadn’t ever really been like normal kids to begin with, but that’s besides the point )

“Look at the bright side,” She starts, and she bites back a snide what bright side and remark about how that’s all Komaru’s good at ( it’s not. She’s more talented than she gives herself credit for ). “None of you probably have really positive memories when it comes to birthdays or parties, so even if it isn’t the greatest, at least the bar to please should be pretty easy to clear!”

Touko thinks she probably gets the point she is trying to make here, but Komaru’s complete and utter lack of tact doesn’t make for the best delivery. “Are you trying to...to make me feel bad? S-So sorry my life was complete sh-shit growing up.”

“No! That’s not what I meant at all!” Komaru pouts at her. “Does that mean you’re not interested in having a party?”

It’s not like she’s so cold-hearted and selfish that she’s going to say no to that. Well, no, that’s not quite true, Touko might be just that; but it doesn’t really matter either way, because Komaru gives her best kicked dog impression, so she says ( a less than enthusiastic ) no, she doesn’t mind, yes you can have a party; even if she thinks she’ll probably regret that choice.

Okay, if you are to be honest with herself, some part of Touko that never got to be a normal child doesn’t entirely mind the thought of a party, even if it’s...not the most ideal scenario, the impractical fantasy situation that lives in her head. But if she says that aloud, Komaru will either take it too seriously, use it as an excuse to celebrate things more often, or something else that probably has consequences that she doesn’t want to think about. And also admittedly because if she says it aloud, she has to acknowledge it, and maybe she doesn't want to get her hopes up over something as stupid as a party.

( There’s also the fact that, deep in her extremely repressed memories of Hope’s Peak before the tragedy, she does remember parties. Birthdays. Celebrating things with her classmates, if somewhat forcibly so. She has no desire to remember those things, so those feelings remain repressed with most of her trauma )

It’s easy to not acknowledge any of that when she has to deal with the sudden onslaught of a headache that is Syo forcing themselves into their shared headspace, hand rubbing at her temples. Not trying to co-front, she can tell they aren’t trying to snatch control from her ( for now ), just forcing her to pay attention to them. It works, even though Touko has told them to not do this specifically because of how irritating it is for her.

I could scare the kids into cooperating? It’ll save us a headache and a half! Syo offers, maybe too eagerly. Their ideas of scare and cooperate are probably different from her own. Still. She also knows Syo is aware of more than they are letting on, given that they had been present when this conversation had occurred, but she doesn’t think she’ll get much out of them in that regard.

No. Touko tells them firmly. It’ll be counterproductive, Komaru won’t let you do that, and they’re all traumatized enough without you adding to that.

Boo, you sure about that? Consider it a birthday gift from me!

No. She repeats herself sternly, and she feels them withdraw a bit after that. Ugh, Syo hasn’t had a chance to front much recently, now that she thinks about it. Since they usually only take over when she’s in danger, and she hasn’t really been in ( as much ) danger now that things are starting to calm down. Well, relatively speaking. Syo is probably just looking for an excuse to be allowed to front, since it’s probably rough going from being very present to rarely getting the chance to be out: akin to going cold turkey on an addiction. That’s not exactly her fault ( or theirs ), but maybe she’ll ask Komaru if she’d be okay with hanging out with Syo more, if only to placate them a little, before they try something more drastic.

“Everything okay? That was Syo, right?” She hears Komaru ask after a few minutes, and Touko rubs her eyes and blinks. “You looked a little frustrated.”

She considers telling her the truth, but no point in getting her concerned over nothing. She’d like to figure out what she wants to negotiate with Syo firstm so she’ll leave that conversation for another time. “Fine. They just...ugh, just wanted to make sure I was okay with it.”

“And you are okay with it, right? You aren’t agreeing just because I asked?” Touko thinks she begged more than she asked, but she’s pretty sure Komaru will only sulk if she brings that up.

“I wouldn’t let you if, if I was really opposed to it.” Probably. She...trusted Komaru, or something like that, so she figures she’d probably be more honest with herself and not mentally torture herself by putting herself through something she has no interest in. “But...what are you even planning on doing to celebrate? I can’t im-imagine we’ve really got much around here that we can use for a party.”

“Ah. Uhm.” Komaru looks a little embarrassed at that. “About that. I was kind of hoping you and Syo might help pitch in. You don’t mind, right?”

You’re hopeless, she wants to mutter, but—

Yeah!!!! Syo wakes right back up upon being mentioned, no sense of self awareness at all, much to your annoyance, but it’s not like you completely disagree with the feeling that is shared between you two.

“You— You really bit off more than you could chew, hm...? Good thing this wasn’t supposed t-t-to be a surprise.” She quips, leaning over to peer at the paper she’d been making her notes on. “We’ll help, just tell us what we...what we need to do.”

“Thank you, Touko-chan! And Syo too!” Komaru sounds somewhere mixed between grateful and relieved, and casually plants a kiss on her cheek as if it’s no big deal—

She said my name last, so the kiss was for me! She knows Syo is intentionally trying to provoke her and get a rise out of her ( yeah, a rising sense of jealousy ), but puts that aside for the time being because Komaru’s blabbering on like nothing happened.

“I know we probably won’t have the whole day to ourselves to do whatever—” Correctomundo, Dekomaru! “— but I’ll make it up to you on your birthday, okay? We’ll do something that you want.”

“You don't...there’s no need for that.” She forces out between gritted teeth, trying to ignore the flustered feeling in the pit of her stomach, chewing around a fingernail ( what an unattractive sight to follow that ). “Because— ugh, don’t repeat th-this, okay? What I want to do is spend time with...with you. That’s all. So don’t go...you don’t need to go out of your way trying to do s-s-something over the top. Stick to being normal.”

“Really? You’re sure?” Komaru sounds a little uncertain, but happy enough to pull her into a hug, despite her grumbled complaint. “Oh, but Syo has their own birthday, don’t they? So I should probably ask them what they want as well, right?”

“Don’t make me repeat m-myself. It’s embarrassing...” Touko huffs, but lets herself be held against her side, just for a moment. It’s nice, though she won’t admit it ( it is better than any real gift that she could receive ). Syo is kind enough to back off long enough to let her have this moment. “You can ask them later— focus on, on what you need to plan.”

By something short of a miracle, they are able to pull together a party that is not a complete disaster, even if Komaru probably has a point when she says the bar to clear is a pretty low standard for all parties involved. The closest she has to an actual concern is the very narrowly avoided fight that almost breaks out when Masaru and Kotoko fight over which one of them should give their present first— which is apparently the competitive aspect of the party? It’s probably meant to be heartwarming, if it were not such a foreign thing to Touko. Which Nagisa is quick to put an end to: because this is how they would treat Monaca, which is not inherently healthy, and she’s glad that at least one of them can recognize that fact now. Jataro spends the entirety of the fight trying to hide behind her long skirt and, relatable kid, and rubs the top of his head while Komaru tries to both scold them for fighting and appease them because they’re, well. Kids. Who still need to learn some things and have time to unlearn things.

So yeah, it’s a good party— for not being on her actual birthday, she’ll consider it one of the better memories Touko has associated with the day. The start of many, she’d like to hope.

#tokomaru week 2021 #tokomaru #toukomaru #komaru naegi #toko fukawa #touko fukawa #danganronpa #udg #dr:ae #* zhi writes #glad to have the excuse to finally post something w/ these girls.#i have several long wips w/ them w/ no motivation to finish :/

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