#and this has never happened to me in other classes before to this level let alone with people i know so well

[linda-rose]

god every time I think too much about this my brain wants to explode a little, but going into teaching as a nonbinary/genderqueer person is really going to be something huh

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Tipping Point

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: sexual tension, implied smut

Summary: Your aunt signs you up for shooting lessons with Spencer Reid. You get more than you bargained for when you go.

Square Filled: alex blake (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Not having a job is really kicking your ass. All you do is stay at home and flip through magazines and shows you’ve already watched. Since your parents died, your aunt has taken you under her wing. The housing and renting market is a joke right now, so you’re living with her until you can go to school. You want to go into her field since you look up to her so much, but the school year doesn’t start for another three months.

So, you’re just trying to pass the time by reading magazines and watching shit reality shows.

Aunt Alex walks downstairs after getting ready for work, and she goes to the kitchen where the full pot of coffee you brewed is waiting for her.

“So, what do you have planned for today?” she asks.

“Well, at ten, I want to cure diseases, and at two, I plan on writing a thesis on String Theory. Why? Do you have something planned? I can see if I can fit you in,” you say sarcastically.

“You’re so funny,” she rolls her eyes playfully. “There’s actually something I want you to do for me.”

“What’s up?”

“I signed you up for shooting lessons. One of my coworkers is teaching the class, and he knows you’re coming. Your appointment is at two.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She’s been nagging you to take shooting lessons ever since you moved in with her.

“Aunt Alex…”

“Y/N, listen, your mother wasn’t prepared and look where it got her. I’m not letting the same thing happen to you.”

She’s right. Your father died shortly after you were born so your mom was the protector. There was an invasion one night and she wasn’t able to protect herself against the intruder. She died fighting to save you. Alex sees evil every single day, and it would break her heart if you weren't prepared for the worst.

“Fine, I’ll go,” you sigh.

“Good. It’s at two. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.”

The morning is filled with reality TV, and the early afternoon is when you prepare to go to this lesson. What should you wear? A dress might be too much so you pick out a nice pair of jeans and a loose shirt. Once ready, you leave the house and head over to the shooting range. You’re not sure who from her team is going to be teaching you. You’ve never met them but you do know them by name. David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, and Spencer Reid. You don’t think Rossi or Hotch will teach you so it has to be either Derek or Spencer.

The shooting range is empty, probably due to Alex’s influence. She wanted whoever is teaching it to focus on you the whole time.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

“In the back!”

You walk to the back and see a tall and slender man putting away supplies. From Penelope’s use of the phrase “Chocolate Thunder” (thanks to Aunt Alex repeating it several times), you know this is Spencer Reid. Spencer turns and you’re immediately floored by how attractive he is. You’ve met your fair share of men and have hooked up with more than one of them, but Spencer is on a whole other level.

This is a man right here. You’re into older men, too. You’re not sure how old he is but he can’t be more than thirty-five.

He walks over to you with a smile. “Hi, I’m Spencer Reid. Alex said you were coming over.” No words are coming out so you just nod instead. “Have you ever shot a gun before?” Again, you can only shake your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”

He takes you over to the area where you shoot and shows an array of guns on the table next to it. He picks up the smaller one and hands it over to you.

“Wow, this is heavier than I thought it was going to be,” you chuckle when you grab it.

“Yeah, don’t let that scare you. This is a very easy gun to use. First, safety.”

Spencer takes the gun from you and puts it on the table before grabbing a pair of earmuffs and safety glasses. You look up at him as he slides the earmuffs over your ears, and he looks into your eyes. He briefly looks down at your lips but it was so quick that you could have been imagining it.

“Does that fit well?”

Even through the earmuffs, his voice is like honey. You nod and he moves onto the glasses. He slides them on despite you having full capabilities of doing this yourself. You look down and the glasses slide off your face entirely, and you chuckle shyly. Both you and Spencer lean down to pick it up, and your hand bumps against his.

It was just a bump but that sends shockwaves through your body. Based on how Spencer is looking at you, you know he felt the same. This is different than any fling you had. You’ve never felt this type of attraction toward another man.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay.” He grabs the glasses. “Let me get another pair.” Spencer leaves and returns with a smaller pair. “Are those okay?”

“Better,” you smile.

“Okay, take the gun and turn the safety off.” You pick up the gun and flip the little switch. Spencer steps closer to you, so close that you can feel his body heat behind you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach but you try to ignore them. “Here, hold it like this.”

He reaches around you and fixes the way you hold the gun. He has to press himself closer to your back, and you silently thank Aunt Alex for setting this up for you.

“Am I holding it right?” you ask.

“Yes.”

His breath is hot against your neck, and you swear you can feel your panties dampening a little bit.

“Now what?”

“Shoot.” You aim at the target in front of you and shoot three times, all of the bullets not hitting the target but on the paper outside of it. “Okay, next time, don’t close one eye. That actually doesn’t help.”

“Okay,” you chuckle. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Try again. This time, try to aim for the heart.”

You aim at the target but freeze when you feel Spencer’s hand sliding up your arms and down to your waist. How can you think about this when all you can think about is his hands on your body? You shoot the target twice, both of the bullets hitting the target. However, one hit his leg and the other hit his hand.

“Better?”

“Yeah, a bit. Are you sure you’ve never shot a gun before?”

“Never.”

“For a first-timer, you’re doing a lot better than other newbies.”

“Thanks,” you smile. “I just have a really great teacher.”

Spencer spends the next thirty minutes teaching you how to shoot multiple different guns. By the time you’re done, the sexual tension is high. Spencer steps back from you and you regret not failing more just so you can feel his body against yours.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today. I do think you might benefit from one more lesson. Are you free next week?”

“Yes,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I can make that work. Just let me know.”

“Great.”

Spencer removes your glasses and then your earmuffs while staring into your eyes the whole time. The tension between you two is like a boiling pot of water. It’s going to overflow any second now, and you can’t wait to see what will happen when he snaps. He looks down at your lips and you lick them slowly, and that seems to be the tipping point.

He grabs your waist and pulls you into him before slamming his lips on yours. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He hooks his hands under your thighs and lifts you up with ease, setting you on the small table so you’re up to his height. Spencer slides his tongue along your bottom lip, but he kisses his way down your jaw to your neck instead of licking inside your mouth.

“Alex is going to kill me,” he mutters between kisses.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” you moan.

Spencer pulls back and kisses you once again. If you knew this was waiting for you, you would have taken lessons a lot sooner.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[flippinpancakes64]

Uhm, I was wondering if you could do Cullens x quiet, insomniac! Reader who is silent and ignores people, but when someone makes a single comment about the cullens, they snap? And what would be the cullens reactions?

The Cullens with a reader who defends them

This ask is so cute I love it omg

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy

Edward:

He hears what people think about him and his family all the time

People think his family is weird

They think he's a loner

It's nothing new to him when he hears people whispering at the lunch table next to them

What IS new, though, is you whipping around in your chair to give those two girls an earful

He just sits there stunned as you throw insult after insult at them in HIS name

He is so shocked

And in love

He kisses you right then and there

He tries to tell you that you don't need to do that, but you don't listen obvs

He can tell that you keep defending him from the thoughts he hears from other people

He's not gonna stop you though

He will tell you that he doesn't mind what people think about him

You don't care

Alice:

She doesn't even have an opportunity to get a vision about what's gonna happen

She's chattering on and on in the back of the class as you sit next to her, silently listening

She's talking about the weather, about her new dress, her new shoes, a show she started watching last night, and everything in between

The classroom is mostly silent besides her as everyone completes their work

Suddenly one of the boys sitting directly in front of you two leans over to his friend and says "Damn, does that weirdo Cullen bitch ever shut up?"

You act so quickly she doesn't even have the chance to stop you

You stand up and start yelling at the boys, throwing every insult in the world their way

The teacher has to tell you to stop, and Alice pulls you out of the classroom to calm down

You start apologizing, saying that it must be because you're so sleep deprived

She just smiles and gives you the fattest kiss ever

Going forward, she does not stop you

She just loves that you love her so much you would be willing to step out of your comfort zone for her

Jasper:

You two are split up into different teams in gym class

He's standing across the gym and you can see him doing his deep-breathing exercises to keep himself from hurting anyone

He's staring into space, not really at any one particular thing

A girl leans over to you and whispers "Oh my gosh, look at the Cullen freak over there... he's so weird."

You throw your dodgeball at her face as hard as you can

She has to go down to the nurse, and you get sent to the principal's office, Jasper comes with you

On the way there, he starts asking a million questions

What happened, why did you do that, are you okay

You tell him about what she said, how you just couldn't let her get away with that

He tries so hard and you know that, it wasn't fair of her to make fun of him

He stops and just looks at you, before pulling you into a huge hug

He doesn't say anything for a while, until you hear him whisper a "thank you"

You get suspended for two days

Jasper stays home with you <3

Rosalie:

She doesn't give a shit what people think of her on a personal level

Like genuinely she couldn't care less

And you're always so calm and quiet that she never expected this

She's walking through the hallways with you and she accidentally bumps into someone

Or in her words, someone bumps into her

She shoots them a nasty look and tells them to watch where they're going

And they call her a bitch

And you go off

She doesn't tell you to stop

Eventually a teacher has to pull you away

You are fuming

Rosalie pulls you aside and helps you calm down

"You know, you don't need to defend me.. but that was really hot ;)"

She won't stop you in the future either

She loves this side of you

And she loves that it's because of her

Emmett:

It wasn't particularly directed towards him

Some kid just made a general statement about the Cullens being weird

He heard it but didn't say anything

But then you stood up and angrily told them to mind their own business

They start arguing back, asking why you even care

It's getting heated, so Emmett steps in

He tells them that if they ever insult or argue with his partner again he'll rip their heads off of their bodies <3

He takes you home after that

It doesn't matter if the school day just started

He takes you home to let you cool down

He thinks it's so fun

I feel like he'd love a little firecracker S/O

And again, he doesn't stop you

Esme:

You were out running errands with her

Alice needed her dress picked up and she would be in school until the laundromat closed

So that meant Esme had to go get it

And you went with her obviously

While you two are waiting for the attendant to get the dress, you can hear the two employees talking in the back

"Hey do you have the dress pickup for Alice?"

"Hm... Oh I see it... Alice... Cullen? As in that weird ass family that moved in not too long ago?"

"Yeah, I got two of them up front. A pair of freaks, I tell ya."

You see red

You can tell by Esme's face she can hear them too

The guy comes back with the dress and puts on his best smile, acting as if he wasn't just insulting you and your girlfriend

Just as Esme's about to pay and give him a tip, you take the cash from her hand

You give him the exact amount for the dress and hold on to the remaining money

"This would have been your tip if you hadn't been a dick"

And then you grab Esme, Alice's dress, and storm out

She helps you calm down

In the future, she tries not to let you do that

They don't want to draw attention to themselves

And she's worried you might get yourself hurt one of these days

Carlisle:

He wasn't even there when this happened

You were at the school with the rest of the Cullen children when some jackass started insulting Carlisle

He had been injured a week ago and Carlisle gave him the medication and instructions to make it better, but he wasn't following them

So you went up and punched him in his bad shoulder obviously

He did punch you back, though

Carlisle swore his heart stopped when Alice and Japser ran into his clinic, you being supported by their arms

The guy had clocked you square in the face, a bruise was already forming on your eye and you're 90 percent sure you had a concussion

As you sat in his exam room, getting checked over, he gave you a lecture

He can take care of himself, and you don't need to put yourself in danger to protect him

But he does appreciate the gesture

After he's done patching you up, he gives you a kiss

Vampire! Bella:

She's not completely used to being considered one of the Cullens

So when a kid at school starts talking about that, she doesn't even register that he's talking about her

You do though

You stand up and start yelling at him, telling him to stop talking about your girlfriend like that

Lowkey she joins in on it

"You were talking about me? Mind repeating that?"

She loves that you want to stick up for her

Before she moved to Forks and met Edward there wasn't really anyone who would do that

But she insists that you don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable

She knows that you prefer to keep to yourself

[poppadom0912]

Excuses

Warnings: Mentions of fainting, diabetes, canon-typical injuries

Summary: You suffer the consequences just because your teacher thought you were making excuses.

A/N: First fic of 2024!!! I had plans that I was going to post weekly in the new year just like last year but things went downhill. This january and february has had its very good but also really bad moments and even writing this was a struggle. I've found myself in a weird place of wanting to write but struggling and all of a sudden not being able to balance my schoolwork and writing. So I took a lil step back to solely focus on my work but looking at everything now, my fic updates will be much less frequent but hopefully just as or if not, more fun to read.

I feel bad for not saying or posting anything since the new year but I'm here now and hopefully will be more alive. I've got lots planned for you beautiful people, several series and way too many fics in my drafts that I cannot wait for you all to read. This wasn't as long or as juicy as I intended but my brain completely failed me so I hope this is good enough. I initially wanted to post this at the beginning of March but I finished the final editing today so here you go!!

Final note before we start, I have general knowledge about diabetes but that's all from my grandma. I have no idea if it's the same for teenagers so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Happy reading!!

Your biology teacher had been on maternity for three weeks now and you were seriously contemplating life.

Because of the crappy rules surrounding maternity leave, when your teacher refused to return before her three months ended, your school had a supply teacher fill in for her till she came back.

Since day one, you knew you hated her.

It was mid lesson and you knew as soon as you started feeling sluggish that your sugar levels were dropping. Your thoughts were only confirmed when your Dexcom receiver let you know of your decreasing glucose.

This wasn't a usual occurrence. Will and Jay always made sure you had eaten enough and you had the means to maintain the needed glucose levels so that nothing happened.

Alas, you were up late revising and you were stressing about keeping up your good grades. Jay was rushing you out the door because he needed to go to a scene he'd just been called to and Will was out walking Kol and hadn't seen you leave.

In conclusion, it'd been a hot minute since you last ate something.

The school were well aware of your diabetes. It was one of the very important things your brothers stressed them about when you first started.

Most students knew about it actually, having seen your Dexcom and not understanding since a diabetic child apparently wasn't common according to them.

So, when you randomly pulled out a snack from your bag mid class, no one questioned it and instead would make sure you were okay. There'd never been a problem before in school and everyone wanted it to stay that way.

However, this new teacher, Mrs Byrne was apparently completely unaware of your medical condition.

"Y/N. You know the rules about eating in class." She said strictly, pulling away all the attention from the board onto you.

She stopped you in the middle of opening the packet of fruit gummies. You frowned, looking at her confused along with your classmates.

"I have diabetes." You said bluntly, continuing to open the packet. "I don't eat this and I'll pass out."

Mrs Byrne only rolled her eyes, smiling at you condescendingly. "I've heard that excuse hundreds of times, give those to me."

You scoffed at the audacity, refusing to hand over what was yours.

It was when she started walking towards your desk with a pep in her step that the entire class got involved. Their raised voices overlapped, some angrier than others over what was happening.

However, you too were Stubborn alike to your brothers so you kept as firm of a grip of the packet. You turned a blind eye to the anger fuelled cover teacher. You continued to smile as she spewed threats of all sorts.

Due to your frustration and annoyance over the teacher who wanted to take your gummies away, you didn't notice how everything started change; how hard it was to move your eyes and lips, your limbs getting heavier and you thoughts slowly getting muddled up.

Lost in a daze, you were no longer able to fight back when she pulled harder, successfully snatching the small packet out of your hands. It was now that the class got furious, your friends were already up and at your side but now they were verbally attacking the teacher.

Fed up with her petty behaviour, you were going to get up and go to the nurses office who would take care of you but getting out your seat was harder said than done.

With one of your friends help, you weren't too sure who was helping you from your hazy sight that cleared when you blinked too many times.

You were wobbly on your feet, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the front of the classroom but before you could leave, you felt your legs give out and everything went black.

*****

It turned out that supposed crime scene that he was imminently needed at was nothing but a prank by a bunch of college boys resulting in a grumpy Hank putting them in cuffs and having them fined for a very reasonable reason.

That's how the rest of the unit found themselves finishing up paperwork, catching up about life in general as they debated what they were getting for lunch.

Jay was smugly sitting back, eyes flickering between Kevin and Adam who were bickering over something trivial when his phone rung, catching everyone's attention.

They were all so bored and normally when one of their phones went off during work hours, it meant something came up and they were needed.

In interest, everyone turned their heads towards Jay and waited for him to tell them they got a crime scene.

Picking up his phone, Jay's brows furrowed at the number, confused as to why your school was calling him in the middle of the day. They'd only call him if two things happened: You'd gotten in trouble or you got hurt.

"Hello. Is this Y/N Halsteads brother Jay?" A voice he couldn't recognised asked, most likely some lady from the main office.

"Yeah, that's me." Jay confirmed, sitting up in preparation for whatever he was going to be told.

"So sorry to interrupt you sir but Y/N collapsed in class." The lady said with guilt laced in her words. "Your other brother didn't pick up the phone. We called to let you know we had to call the paramedics and they've taken her to Chicago Med."

"Uh yeah." Jay said, collecting his jacket and keys. "Yes, thank you."

Not waiting for a reply, Jay hung up and quickly knocked on Hank's office door frame.

"Sarge, I gotta get Y/N-"

"Go get her. We're done here."

*****

Wanting to pull his hair out, Will rubbed his eyes in frustration, glaring at his patients scans that only confused him further. He was tired and was coming to half way through his twenty four hour shift.

"Dr Halstead- Uh, Dr Rhodes in T4." Maggie stumbled, looking down at her brick and making sure she read it correctly.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, confused as to why Maggie changed her mind which she usually never did.

"It's Y/N."

Now fully awake, Will followed Connor towards the ambulance bay where you were being rolled in. You were groggily sitting up on the stretcher, you hair a mess and a few scratches around your face and hands from when you fell.

"Sylvie, what happened?" Will asked the blonde paramedic while looking you over. He desperately wanted to check you over himself but let Connor do his thing. He really did not need Ms Goodwin on his case today.

"Teachers didn't tell us much but her classmates said she collapsed after not being able to eat." Sylvie relayed the minimal information she knew, shrugging her shoulders when the two doctors looked at her weirdly. "No one would tell us anything more."

"Y/N, it's Connor. Can you hear me kid?" Connor said while pulling out his penlight. He was like another brother to you, his concern just as high. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You groaned, mumbling nonsense with your eyes screwed closed. Your words were mostly unintelligible but Will understood them mere seconds later.

Fixing the problem you complained about, Will turned down the lights and let Connor continue fussing over you.

It didn't take long to find out the cause of your collapse, Will sighing at the news when he read the numbers from your tests.

"I thought she was always on top of her sugar levels." Connor said, closing the room door so you could sleep in peace.

And what he said was completely true but they weren't aware of why you couldn't today specifically of all days.

"She is." Will said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "Maybe her dexcom malfunctioned or something."

Connor hummed, agreeing with his friend.

"Hmm, maybe."

*****

Arriving at Med, Will gave Jay a detailed rundown of everything he new about your medical state but also the events pre your hospital arrival.

Getting a good look at you, holding your hand in his and kissing you on your forehead, Jay was more than happy to leave you in your oldest brothers safe hands while he got to the bottom of this entire ordeal.

He noticed Sylvie was still at Med, Foster mentioning they were running low on a few supplies so they needed some stocking up. Jay took this opportunity to interview the two paramedics and try to get further understanding on this situation that wasn't making much sense to him.

Arriving at your school, Jay had some thoughts in mind but they weren't very concrete and his confidence wasn't as strong as he'd like it to be.

Walking into the school, Jay immediately noticed an entire class sitting and standing around in the corridor waiting in front of the principals office.

One of the girls who had been sitting in a chair had caught sight of Jay, her eyes widening before she smiled, gently nudging the girl next to her and pointing in his direction. The girls reaction was the exact same.

This created a sort of domino effect as the boy next to her noticed Jay and everyone was telling the other of his sudden arrival. The once silent corridor was now beginning to fill with murmurs and whispers, all their eyes glued onto his figure that moved down the corridor, their shocked faces quickly changing into smiles and smirks.

It seems that Jay had a reputation of sorts.

"Why are you making so much noise? What did I just say about talking-"

The principal cut himself off from his scolding when he suddenly noticed Jay's presence, his face blanching as all the pieces clicked into place.

"Detective Halstead! What a surprise, we weren't expecting to see you so soon-"

This time Jay cut him off, not too bothered about his lack manners. "My brothers with Y/N at the hospital so I thought there was no other perfect time."

The principal remained silent.

"Now, why don't you explain to me why my sister fainted under your watch?"

The students behind Jay couldn't help but snicker knowingly.

[starqueensthings]

We need to talk about Echo (and by talk I mean screm). S3 E13 + 14 Spoilers!

FRIENDS, I'M GOING TO EXPLODE. I need to talk about Echo for a minute. We need to talk about Echo for a minute,  because he has spent the last two episodes in the absolute thralls of complete and total danger, and I personally don't feel like there's been enough of a celebratory uproar for me to be satisfied with the level of appreciation and love that man deserves. (Remember when Hunter ran face first into a colossal exhaust pipe and we all collectively lost our minds because it was so impressive and so sexy? Remember when Tech drove a speeder really fast through a tunnel and we all fainted? I'M A TECH GIRLY. IT WAS ME! I FAINTED!!) but, Y'ALL, Echo deserves that right now!! And for all eternity!!! Because he is wholly submurged in the harrowing potential of torture and execution, and he didn't even bat an eye to put himself there. My awe of him is all-consuming, so please forgive me if this rant reads as nothing but incoherent screaming. 

Echo haters (first of all, we can't be friends....) come on this journey with me! Let's back pedal to the beginning of the last episode (13). He stole an imperial shuttle. Let me repeat, he stole an imperial shuttle. And not just an attack shuttle. Not just a lil one-pilot transport. Bro somehow stole a Rho-class medical transport, which is very large, obscenely conspicuous, and very easily tracked. And, to use his own words, it was "the best he could do on short notice." The man stole a shuttle on short notice. ON SHORT NOTICE? HELLO, HOW DID HE DO THAT. WHY AIN'T WE LOSING OUR COOL ABOUT IT. 

Next stop on this I-love-Echo journey through my mind: not only did he provide his brothers transportation in the complete void of their own (RIP havoc bb), but he also came equipped with intel and clearance codes, and, as Rampart stated, those things change DAILY. Echo somehow procured top secret imperial clearance codes, and a fkn SHIP, within hours of the Batch requesting his help. Not to mention, the ship had yet to be reported missing (which means it was only-freshly commandeered), and the clearance codes worked. Of course they did. Echo never fails. Never doubt Echo. "Echo's on it."  

Choochoo, next stop! Once they arrived on that station orbiting Coruscant, and made their way to the control room (lookin sexy as heck in his armour-au-noir), he broke imperial encryption, hacked into the Imperial database, almost instantly found them the location of a ship departing for the prison that holds their daughter Tantiss, AND THEN DIDN'T EVEN HESITATE TO CLIMB ABOARD AND STOW AWAY.  

He didn't even remotely have a plan, or have time to make a plan. He didn't know who or what else would be on board that mysterious vessel. He didn't know where it was going other than the name of the fkn mountain (which has proven to be nothing but unhelpful thus far). He just ARC-troopered his way through that crowded hangar, dodging aggressive astromech's and inconsiderate loader droids, shirking from the perspective eyes of highly trained commandos, and snuck his way onto a heavily guarded, extremely unknown science vessel. Then, of course, he wasted no time, hacking into the ships control system (may I gently remind- there were at least three pilots and an officer prepping the ship for jump and closely watching all aspects of its controls), disabling the proximity sensors without being detected, and then seamlessly covered the troopers absence by pretending to be him (which we all know is what should have happened on Serenno but... hindsight is 20/20.)  

So... SO.... now we're at Episode 14. Here we at fkn terrified station because HULLO ECHO IS ALONE ON A SCIENCE DIVISION TRANSPORT; we have literally seen them carry around Zilo beasts in that shit. What the heck else could be on there that they don't know about? Literally anything. Because THEY KNEW NOTHING before attaching themselves to it. Echo knew NOTHING before sneaking onto that thing and creepin' around. Thank heck he didnt come across a fkn fresh wave of slither vines ok?  

NEXT, Echo shoots (not stuns- lol) a sassy fkn droid (they had it coming, not sorry), then another trooper. AND THEN discovered his only option for departing the ship once it enters atmosphere is going completely undercover, because (in true "we improvise everything" CF99 fashion that gives me heart burn just thinking about it), they had zero fkn plan to get off the ship. I will repeat: completely undercover. On Tantiss. COMPLETELY UNDERCOVER ON TANTISS. NO COMMS, NO BACK UP, NO RECON, NO PLAN, BARELY ANY GEAR, and I would just like to stress... no neuro brace. He left his neurobrace on that ship. Left it. LEFT IT AND TOOK A HAND INSTEAD. PLEASE FKN SEDATE ME.  

We can't leave this station yet... This I-love-Echo train needs to linger at this point for a sec because I think it's lost on some people how wild this is. Echo without his neurobrace is huge. It's a bigger deal than Echo without his armour. Armour is, in the grand scheme of things, inconsequential (one can find more- see Howzer). Echo's neurobrace is not armour, it's a computer and it's so so so crucial to how his mind processes information and events. Don't forget, the Technounion HIJACKED HIS BRAIN. They took every memory from him and manipulated it for their gain. Pruned it, tweaked it, blanched it, poached it, turned it into scrambled eggs, and then fkn ate it up and used it to defeat their enemies (Echo's family- I'm sobbing). They implanted him with an unfathomable amount of information; they changed the way the neurons in his brain fire in relation to stimuli. That neurobrace is so so critical for him. Now, we know he can operate well enough without it, we saw it in the last episode of the TBB arc in season 7 of Clone Wars, but... please.... to what extent? We don't know what an extended time without that neurobrace looks like for him... especially when all other aspects compliing his surroundings foreign, unknown, and dangerous, and that scares me.

AND NOW HE'S ABOUT TO RUN AMOK IN TANTISS with Emerie who, (I'm sorry) is wishy-washy as heck (who are you loyal to!!!!! What is your history!!! Are you trustworthy and what are you looking to gain!!!), trying to adopt a collection of Jedi children whove spent maker-knows how long playing space tetris, WHILST ALSO ATTEMPTING TO LOCATE AND ESCAPE WITH HIS BROTHERS UNDER THE EYE OF THE GALAXY'S SECOND MOST DANGEROUS MAN. 

So yes, short of d-d-d-di... can't say it... short of THE WORST CASE, Echo has made the ultimate sacrifice to save not only Omega who is literally the only person we've seen able to make him truly laugh, but all the clone brothers that he's been desperately trying to locate and rescue. His bravery and determination are literally unrivalled, and he did it while feasting on nothing but humble pie because that man wouldn't know arrogance if it danced naked under his perfect nose.  

Okay so welcome, we've finally pulled into I-Love-Echo station. Before departing the ride, please stand and do a hip hip hurray for the miracle that is Echo, including but not limited to, everything he's done, is doing, and is willing to do for other people. 

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. anyway no warnings for you guys today besides maybe this is boring lol

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: young coryo has me in a death grip rn guys this could be a problem-

next part

Fists clenched at your sides, you storm up to the front of the hall, staring intently at the Dean. You knew your odds were better pleading with Dr. Gaul, but that was a task far from your mind. "Miss Y/L/N, I don't have time for your petty complaints at the moment." He dismisses you before you even reach an appropriate distance to start your discussion.

"I was waiting for this." Festus chuckles, commenting on how none of the chosen mentors had a chance to process anything or even speak before you were stomping down the centre aisle, between all their seats, and up towards the podium where Dean Highbottom now stood.

Coriolanus found his gaze following you, despite his better judgment telling him to focus on the subject- scratch that, problem, at hand: his assignment of the mentorship of Lucy Gray Baird. She was fiery, that's for sure, and upon first impressions, she reminded him of you.

"You think I couldn't handle it, is that it?" You almost shout, discarding all formality in favour of getting answers. 

"You knew the qualifications, Miss Y/L/N." The Dean sighs.

"I got one B over a year ago! God, hold a grudge much? You're miserable!" People are staring now, noticeably, but you don't care. You're used to getting what you want, and the one time you don't, it comes back to bite you in the ass over a year later.

"Then you should have done better. Drop this or I'll demerit you." He states in response, clearly hardly caring. You huff, face red as you storm off again, making a point of slamming the door open so hard it hits the wall with a bang.

Coriolanus never understood fully why the Dean let you parade around with this attitude directed at him, but never so much as lifted a finger to punish you. If he had made a scene like that, he would have been expelled on the spot. "I should go after her." He turns to look at Sejanus as he's getting up, quickly gathering himself to follow after you. He had little interest in staying anyway.

"I'll go." Coriolanus stands, placing his hand on Sejanus' chest to stop him. "You stay. I'll sort her out."

"Coriolanus Snow, off to sedate his girlfriend again." Arachne teases as he walks off, leaving Sejanus to defend his name in his stead. He'd much prefer talking you down to uselessly explaining to the other kids in your class that the two of you were nothing more than friends. It was a wasteful endeavour. You were just the only one who's presence he could stand in a social capacity.

You made it outside, pacing the large front steps of the academy, fighting the urge to rip off your skirt and burn it right there. Along with the rest of the building.

"Y/N." You pause when you hear the door close behind someone, looking up to see your friend.

"Coryo." You reply, continuing with your fruitless crusade at this point.

"What happened to not caring about the prize?" He asks, stepping down so he's level with you on the staircase, getting in your path so you can no longer pace.

"I don't care about the prize." You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's not about that."

"I doubt that." Coriolanus raises an eyebrow at you. You had told him at length you didn't care about the prize when you found out you weren't even in the running, because your parents could pay your tuition anyway. He envied your privilege, but he had never envied you.

"No, it's not." You insist. "I got one less than stellar grade one time and now I'm missing out on this opportunity- effectively throwing away any shot I have at Gamemaker."

"That's dramatic." Your friend replies. "I think you're better off than me."

You scoff. "Oh, boo hoo, Coriolanus Snow. I'd take Lucy Gray in a second."

"Just because she can cause a scene doesn't mean she'll last a minute in the games." He replies.

"Duh, it's not about winning. It's about the experience, it's about-"

"Being on TV?" He asks, and despite his serious expression you know it's a joke.

"Even you know I'm not that shallow. I'm not Arachne." You can't help but smile. He does too, for just a second. "And frankly, I'm offended at the insinuation."

"Then enlighten me, Y/N Y/L/N." Coriolanus prompts, and suddenly your demeanor changes in a way he would deem hardly noticeable if he hadn't known you for years.

You sigh, dropping your tense shoulders. "My father will be up in arms when he finds out." You answer, voice in a whisper despite being alone out here. "I'm an embarrassment to my family name."

"That's impossible." He shakes his head quickly. "You're their pride and joy. A gem of the Capitol."

"Ah, but for how long?" You reply, poking his chest. "Until the oldest Y/L/N child doesn't get a mentorship? Until my brother does in three years and I am an irrelevant face in the University halls and he is winning the Plinth prize?" The small smile on your face fades as you look down, thinking over the consequences for the first time.

"Perhaps, but one day that will come back to bite anyone who doubted you when you're the new head Gamemaker. I'll be sure of it." He nods, and your smile returns. 

"Coriolanus Snow, future President of Panem, I salute you." You giggle, raising your hand in a salute. You had heard his cousin say that to him once, two or three years ago by now, and you were not prepared to let it go. You can tell it was something he believed, despite the misshapen buttons on his dress shirt and the weight he'd steadily lost over all the years you'd known him. Who were you to deny him his ambitions? Everyone else was fooled, so you would act as though you were as well. The same way he had habitually ignored the bruises on your arms and under your makeup the day after you brought home that B grade last year.

He just nods in response, jokingly tugging at his vest in pride. 

"I hate to tell you that I will have to decline your generous offer." You say, and he looks confused. "I don't need your charity. I'll make it so you'd be a fool not to hire me, Mister President."

You sit down on the stairs, looking out at the city. He joins you a moment later, dusting off the ground beneath him before letting his clothes touch the surface.

"So, how are you feeling?" You ask, sick now of talking about yourself.

"Honestly, not great." Coriolanus answers. "She'll be first down, and I'll be out. We're about at odds with each other, I have no shot at the prize now."

"I don't know, Coryo." You smile a little, bumping his shoulder with your own as you try to reassure him. "Lucy Gray has a or two fight in her. I can tell."

"She reminds me of you, a little bit." 

"Is that a bad thing?" You chuckle.

"No." He shakes his head. "You never back down from a fight. Even if you should."

You laugh, turning a little to hide the burning in your cheeks. "I suppose I could see the resemblance. I'm no stranger to telling someone to kiss my ass."

"That's true." He nods, smiling but not quite laughing. You're not sure you could remember seeing him laugh, not since Felix fell down the stairs in the lecture hall a few years ago and screamed like a girl. "Maybe you could help me."

"Help you? How?" You ask, brow furrowed as you look over at him. Whatever it is you'll agree. He knows too much about you for you to deny him anyway, and it's not like you really had anything to lose. If you couldn't have the Plinth prize, you'd want it to go to Coriolanus.

"With Lucy Gray. I don't even know where to start, what to think, what to do." He explains.

"Well..." You think about it for a second. "If you want her to listen to you in any capacity, she'll have to trust you. So be nice. And maybe convince her to sing again. People were talking, that's what you want. It's the best you can do."

He nods, sitting up straighter. "Thank you, Y/N. I have to go." Before you can respond, he's gone back into the building behind you. You sigh, calmer now, despite dreading the prospective task of having to go home and face your father.

"Mister Snow, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dr. Gaul asks, readjusting her gloves without looking up at the boy as she throws what he assumes to be some kind of food into a blacked-out tank in front of him.

"I'd like Y/N Y/L/N to be my partner in the mentorship," Coriolanus states, making her pause.

"Why?" She asks simply, resuming her task.

"I believe she would be an asset for Lucy Gray."

"They do have a similar... spark. Don't they?" Dr. Gaul nods a little bit to herself. "But what makes you think that this wouldn't be an unfair advantage?"

"It wouldn't be an advantage. More like an experiment." He answers, effectively piquing the doctor's interest. "We can observe the benefits and faults of two mentors versus one, moving into the next games, and the effect of choosing based on compatibility, rather than random, careless selection."

Dr. Gaul hums, wiping off her leather gloves with a cloth as she thinks it over. "And this would have nothing to do with your relationship and sympathies towards Miss Y/L/N, correct?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Miss Y/L/N certainly doesn't get any sympathy from me." It's not a lie, at least he doesn't perceive it to be. You would be an asset to his cause, to his deliverance of the prize, and likely the most pleasant person to work with, ironically.

"I will think about it." Dr. Gaul states. "But the prize will not be awarded to her in any capacity, you must understand."

Maybe he does feel bad for you. He's entitled to that prize, no doubt, but it's hard to picture a world where you wouldn't be the runner-up; even if that is his reality. "I understand." He nods, before turning to leave.

"Oh, and Mister Snow." Dr. Gaul draws his attention once more, causing him to stop and look back at her. "Don't let her charm you."

"Y/N!" You look up from your textbook toward the door, knowing your brother will be opening it any second after he calls you. Surely enough, he does. "Coriolanus Snow is here. He wants to speak with you."

"Can you show him up to the library?" You ask, quickly wiping your reddened eyes.

"He's there with dad already." Your brother tells you and you sniff, nodding a little bit. "Thank you. Tell them I'll be right there."

You quickly throw on a sweater, double-checking in the mirror that you don't look like you were just crying before leaving. Besides a little bit of redness around your eyes and blotchiness on your chest covered by the sweater, you should be okay.

"Well, thank you for extending your influence on my daughter's behalf. I owe you a great deal." You hear your dad speaking from down the hall as you get closer. "Though, I wouldn't fault you if you changed your mind. I understand she will be a burden on you."

"No, sir. It would be an honour to work with her." You hear Coryo say as you step into the door frame. 

You knock gently on the open door, alerting them both of your presence. "Y/N." Your father says, nodding toward your friend. "Coriolanus has pulled some strings to try and help you maintain what's left of your reputation."

You sniff and nod, looking over at Coryo as he stands across from your dad in your library, posture perfect like a soldier standing at attention. His professionalism will always impress you, it never falters in the presence of others. "Thank you." You make an effort to smile at him, which he politely and uncomfortably returns. "Could you give us a moment?" You request, returning your attention to your dad.

He nods and shakes Coryo's hand before bumping into you as he exits the room, pausing before leaning down to whisper to you.

Coriolanus watches, your eyes widening for just a moment while your dad speaks to you and then you nod, thanking him quietly before he leaves. You stand there awkwardly staring at each other for a second while you listen to his footsteps descend the stairs, and then hear the door to his study close. As soon as it does, you're quickly walking up to your friend and throwing your arms around his waist, your head leaning into his chest.

He freezes for a second before hugging you back. "Thank you, Coryo." You whisper. "I won't let you down."

"Are you okay?" He asks, resisting the urge to just rest his chin on the top of your head and pull you closer. It's been ages since he's been hugged like this, and though it's meant more as a comfort to you, it's consolatory to him as well.

You nod, snapping out of it and quickly pulling away, taking a respectful step back. "Yeah, yes. Sorry." You clear your throat, quickly readjusting your sweater.

"Don't be." He shakes his head quickly, brows still furrowed as he looks you over. He doesn't know what you came home to, but he has a strong theory as to what the cause of your tear-stained cheeks could be, and it certainly wasn't an empty fridge like his. 

You stare at each other for another moment before you look away. "Uh, so, you spoke to the Dean?"

"No, he despises me." He answers. "Dr. Gaul was more sympathetic to the cause."

"Dr. Gaul and 'sympathetic' have never been used in the same sentence before." You tease.

"Well, she likes us for some reason."

"Thank god." You chuckle, slightly shaking your head.

"But... seriously, are you okay?" He asks again, this time blatantly looking you over. While embarrassing, it does feel nice to see that someone cares, that someone noticed. The remnants of pity behind his eyes makes you almost ill.

"Fine." You nod in confirmation. "Would you like something to eat?" You offer, leveling the playing field.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie

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[bitchimasnake-sss]

the monster trio (but make it highschool!au);

basically, what if these mf weren't illiterate?? highschool!au headcanons for the monster trio!!

m.list

luffy:

- the class comedian (and doesn't know it) - like this man is out here just going about his day, doing stupid shit. he doesn't know why the class is laughing when the teacher asks him what he's doing and he says "eating. want some?" through a mouthful of doritos and a shit-eating grin - everyday, atleast once, he gets sent to the principle (the principle is garp lmao) and garp sends luffy back to the teacher because even he doesn't wanna deal with this precious himbo

- he runs track (and he is actually so good at it) - he's that one kid that has adhd and the whole school knows but he doesnt "adhd? what's that?" "you, luffy, that's you" - his homework? never complete; his handwriting? so shit it feels like ants crawling on paper; his uniform? something has to be missing always whether it's a button on his shirt, tie, belt, something. - one time he pulled up with one sock missing and when asked, he shrugged and said "sometimes things happen" - why did he say it like that??? - somehow, despite it all, he manages to pass (nami tutored him forcefully and made him pay her later) - best friends with the martial artist!zoro and cooking prodigy!sanji - nobody knows how these three are friends??? but they are ig - also, i headcannon him as the guy who is like 4 feet and after one summer comes back stretched out (hehe, pun intended) - always so kind to others even if he doesn't know them, always willing to help freshmen out and run errands for you if you need help - nobody knew he is related to his older brothers (ace, sabo) "how are you their brother??" "idk? how am i??" - just the bestest boy ever, golden retriever energy all day every day no matter what universe it is

zoro:

- you take one look at this mf and you think, ah here is the classic delinquent, stick-up-his-ass martial artist and you couldnt be more wrong - he is never dressed right but that's cause he doesn't know how to tie a tie and listen if he had the willpower to find the right socks at 7 in the morning, he will - he is just an incompetent fool, trust me 😭😭 - gets late on the regular cause he always takes the wrong turn - the one "jock" who isn't anything like a stereotypical jock? like he hangs out with soon-to-be valedictorian nami, idiot luffy, theatre kid!ussop and cook!sanji - nobody can understand how this friend group was formed??? - actually gets asked out a decent amount of times and always says "nah, im good" and walks away to his friends - people are starting to suspect if he's dating luffy from how hard their bromance is going "zolo!!! gooDMORNING!!" luffy yells as he launches onto zoro in the middle of the hallway at 8:03 am on a random tuesday zoro casually drops his backpack to catch luffy "morning" zoro replies as if it's casual behaviour - the amount of trophies the school has in his name is insane (nation level martial artist, roronoa zoro) - he is actually decent at school, he is just average and he's fine by it he doesn't give all that much of a shit in the academic sphere - casually pulls up to the parents-teacher meet with thE FUCKING WORLD REKNOWNED MARTIAL ARTIST, DRACULE MIHAWK??? "i see he passed in all his exams. how wonderful, zoro. let's leave now." "aight" - he doesn't even think twice when asked if he knows mihawk, he's just like "yeah that's my dad what about him?" - a certified dumbass in every universe

sanji:

- listen to me this mf went to masterchef junior and fucking won and people only know this cause the school hyped him up and not because he wanted people to know "omg sanji did you actually win-" "no that was my twin brother sanjo, please leave me alone" - actually prim and properly dressed, shows up at time everyday and gives in all of his assignments and submissions well before the due date (he is partially responsible for keeping zoro and luffy on track) - he was the one making cupcakes when nami was organizing a fundraiser for a nearby orphanage, he was the one who baked cookies cause sabo wanted to hand them out on his last day of school, he was the one who baked cakes for his classmate's surprise birthday party - rumor has it if you get on good terms with sanji, a mysterious box of homemade chocolate will be there in your locker the next day - despite all the hype he has, mf still gets no girls - like luffy, he is insanely kind to those who need help - has gotten almost suspended once for beating up a senior year kid for bullying a freshmen (luffy and zoro just stood by and laughed as that kid got his ass handed to him) - he is the son of THE FUCKING OWNER OF BARATIE, A FIVE STAR MICHELLIN RESTAURANT THAT IS FREQUENTED BY CELEBRITIES ALL THE TIME "omg omg sanji is it true that the rock visited your restaurant last night?!" "yeah, his daughter wanted to eat my tiramisu, she's really sweet" - so chill always (but simultaneously losing his shit) - the kinda person you'd love hanging out with - as i said, in any universe, he is still single (feed him the rizz rizz fruit pls)

a/n: tried something new tell me do you like it or love it? m.list

[maxdibert]

Hello!

Fistly, I love your content <3

Secondly, do you think there were other reasons besides the difference in wealth, class and power as to why James and Sirius treated Severus the way they did?

They mock and humiliate him and reduce him to a toy, a doll to have fun with. But if that's all there is, they should torment him and leave, right? However, that does not happen. And this is the part I find odd. The way they watch him during the exam in the flashback (what business do they have watching someone write their paper?), the way Sirius' eyes follow him like a preditor to a rabbit when he spots Snape under the tree. James promises Lily to stop pranking people, but goes behind her back to get to Severus anyway. He dies for the tiniest chance that this woman may leave, but he betrays her trust that easily just to torment Snape more? It seems a bit obsessive to me, not just the typycal bullying,worse, something a bit off. Obsessive from James' side and then Sirius would follow his lead in any case. Ofc, I could be wrong about all of this.

What do you think?

<3

Oh, this is such a juicy question, and thanks for the kind words! ❤️

Buckle up, because we're diving deep into the murky waters of school bullying dynamics and why James and Sirius’s treatment of Severus isn’t your average schoolyard torment. (I love to made these type of meta because analyze violence is my cardio lol) This is gonna be looooooong:

At its core, bullying thrives on power imbalances. James and Sirius had every advantage: wealth, status, looks, charisma, magical talent—you name it. Severus, on the other hand, was everything they weren’t: poor, socially awkward, a loner, and unkempt. People like James and Sirius often prey on someone like Severus because he represents a threat to their sense of superiority. He’s smart, talented, and doesn’t bow to them, which means they can’t control or dominate him the way they can others. For people like James, that’s an itch they have to scratch.

But with James and Sirius, this goes beyond garden-variety bullying. It has this weird intensity to it that’s worth unpacking and as you said before, there’s something almost compulsive about the way James and Sirius target Severus. This isn’t just "let’s embarrass the nerd for laughs and move on." It’s fixated. Watching him during an exam? Catching sight of him under a tree and zoning in like a predator? Going out of his way to break his promise to Lily just to torment him again? That’s next-level, and here’s why that might be:

Severus was different: Beyond class, wealth, and upbringing, Severus was a challenge. He didn’t back down, didn’t beg, and he didn’t play the role of the "grateful victim" who might humor them to escape more torment. Instead, he fought back (verbally or with magic), which probably pissed James off even more. Bullies hate it when their victim refuses to crumble.

Insecurity masked as dominance: James, despite his wealth and privilege, could still be deeply insecure. Think about it: someone like Severus, who came from nothing, could rival him in magical skill and intelligence. That’s a big bruise to James’s ego. Bullying might have been his way of proving to himself—and everyone watching—that he was "better."

Additionally, let’s not forget that canonically, James’s animosity toward Severus began because of his relationship with Lily. It’s likely that, until he managed to date her and ensure any bond she had with Severus was completely severed, James experienced jealousy, anger, and even the insecurity of thinking they might have something more.

For someone like James—accustomed to being handed everything by his doting parents, who gets what he wants with the snap of a finger, and who’s probably never been told “no”—insecurity wasn’t something he’d know how to handle. The idea that someone like Severus, from a rival house, who held beliefs James had been taught were “wrong,” who was poor, scruffy, unattractive, could possibly achieve what James wanted, or spend endless time with the girl he liked, must have been inconceivable. Unthinkable.

Once again, class and status come into play: the wealthy kid who’s had everything can present himself as a fighter for social justice, but deep down, in certain situations, that intrinsic sense of superiority and entitlement always surfaces. After winning Lily over, James probably thought he had every right to treat Severus however he wanted. By that point, he’d dehumanized him to such an extent that he no longer saw him as a person.

On top of that, if you consider that James likely justified his bullying by convincing himself it was legitimate because Severus was hanging around with dark wizards, it all makes sense. It’s the classic psychological mechanism of rationalizing harmful behavior: “I’m not doing anything wrong; he deserves it.” It’s actually a pretty logical progression when you think about it.

Sirius’s role: Sirius is a complicated mess of a character. Growing up in a family where dominance, control, and punishment were the norm, Sirius might have channeled that energy into his dynamic with Severus. If James was leading the charge, Sirius probably saw joining in as a way to solidify their bond while also exercising some of his own unresolved issues. But the predatory way you describe Sirius observing Severus? That’s chilling, and it checks out.

I’ve mentioned this in another post, but Sirius is a Black, and his rebellious persona and attempts to distance himself from his family rested on two fundamental pillars: being a Gryffindor and defending Muggle-borns. However, at the end of the day, Sirius was still a boy raised in an aristocratic family that believed they were superior to others for absurd reasons. This superiority complex led them to treat an entire group of people as “the other,” dehumanizing them to justify their marginalization and even their extermination.

These are the values Sirius grew up with, and like many rich kids who rebel without bothering to deconstruct the behavioral patterns they’ve inherited, he thought that simply rejecting blood purity and getting Sorted into another house was enough to absolve him.

But Snape’s presence challenges that belief. Sirius’s relationship with Severus reveals that, deep down, Sirius isn’t so different from his mother or his cousin Bellatrix. Sirius sees Snape as “the other.” He dehumanizes Severus in the same way his family dehumanizes Muggle-borns—but for being a Slytherin and for desiring the things Sirius himself has chosen to reject. This cognitive dissonance makes Sirius feel justified in tormenting Severus, much like his family feels justified in their bigotry.

In the end, Sirius is just another hypocrite with a different spin—like so many others.

I’ve also pointed out several times that Sirius has a sadistic streak. Maybe not to the same degree as Bellatrix, because she’s clearly far more unhinged, but Sirius does have that violent, bloodthirsty impulse typical of the Blacks. Since he can’t channel it the way his family does, he chose an easy target—someone disliked by many, someone who didn’t fit in, who was isolated, and, most tragically, someone who no one cared about, not even his own parents. Sirius used Severus as a means to vent his anger and sadistic tendencies, fully aware that no one would step in to defend him.

Furthermore, as a wealthy boy from an aristocratic family with progressive ideas, it’s no surprise that Sirius relied on James as his moral compass when he struggled to discern right from wrong. If James believed it was entirely justified to bully and torment Severus, why would Sirius think otherwise?

James embodied everything Sirius wished he could be: a boy with the same privilege as him, but from a family without extremist beliefs. James’s parents treated Sirius like a son. They believed in “good” things. They were the “good” ones. If James was convinced that bullying Severus was the right thing to do, then Sirius had no reason to question it.

It became a way for Sirius to justify and validate his own awful behavior—a pattern that’s sadly all too common among bullies.

When we look at how James and Sirius treated Severus, it’s clear they didn’t just see him as someone to mock and forget; they actively sought to dehumanize him. This process of dehumanization is deeply rooted in power dynamics. Severus wasn’t just the “nerd” they bullied—he was someone who challenged their place in the social order. He dared to stand up to James over Lily and, as a highly capable student, constantly reminded them that they weren’t untouchable. Even if they had reached the top of the social and academic hierarchy, Severus was proof that someone outside their circle could match or even surpass them. In their eyes, Severus became the "other," someone who had to be eliminated to keep their world intact.

Dehumanization in bullying has devastating effects on the victim. It’s not just about causing temporary physical or emotional harm—it’s about erasing the person’s identity, reducing them to nothing more than an object for entertainment or a pawn in a game of power.

In Severus’s case, James and Sirius didn’t just want to make him miserable—they wanted to strip away his dignity, his individuality, and his sense of self-worth. They needed to prove, not only to Severus but also to themselves and their peers, that he didn’t belong. This is why their actions go beyond mere pranks or teasing—they were asserting their dominance and ensuring that Severus could never challenge the status quo they benefited from.

The relationship between James, Sirius, and Severus is a reflection of how power dynamics, insecurity, and the struggle for control can lead to psychological abuse far more complex than simple schoolyard rivalry. Throughout the story, James and Sirius don’t just try to humiliate Severus—they do it to prove something about themselves, about their place in the world, and about the relationships they maintain with those around them. This isn’t just bullying; it’s a demonstration of how children raised in a dysfunctional value system, with a limited understanding of others, can wield destructive power over the more vulnerable.

That’s why, when we look at Severus and understand what he endured, it’s not just a matter of “he joined the Death Eaters because he was bad.” There’s a context of pain, abuse, and a desperate search to belong to something or someone. What James and Sirius did wasn’t just cruel—it was one of the cornerstones that pushed Severus down the path he later followed.

[luv-y0urself]

18 headcanons for woon's 18th !

day 1 : living with woon . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

established relationship!au | roommate!woon x fem!reader ♫．genre : slice of life, so much fluff... | wc : 789 | warnings : second person pov ! woon is implied to be a student ⏤ in college or high school is up to you to decide. as always, there is some mild bickering too :') 𖤐．first post of the series ! happy birthday once again, woon <3 make sure to let me know which one you guys like the most for the full fic on the seventh day ! more details on the masterlist linked below ↓

ᵔᴗᵔ﹕masterlist | the next day . . . [posted] !

living together-

there would never be a dull day if woonhak was living with you… literally. there’s always one thing or another happening around you guys, and you guys always make the most of it. 

like, there was one time when woonhak insisted that you teach him some of the yoga/pilates things you’ve been doing in your freetime, saying something like “it can’t be that hard…”

oh boy. poor guy was shaking just using a foam roller and doing a couple of exercises with it while you were nearly crying from laughter. 

“you won’t even be able to use a reformer!!”

“sh-shut up!! yes i can!!”

but even when you guys bicker with each other like that, woonhak is still someone that you can rely on for anything.

sometimes there are just days where you don’t want to do anything and just want to stay home, but he forces you to get up and do something, even if that’s going on a short little walk with him outside for some fresh air or just being next to his warmth while he’s doing homework for some of his classes, listening to his voice talking about random things to make you feel better.

he always has food prepared for you on those days – not processed, delivered food, but actual homemade food that he made, freshly prepared for you to eat.

“... thanks, woon.”

“you have to do the dishes.”

“are you kidding me???”

throwing tantrums-

cue the hundreds of videos of woon on the floor throwing a tantrum…

if something doesn’t go his way… this is definitely the type of move he would pull out of his pocket.

FOR EXAMPLE. if something goes wrong w the game he’s playing, he would lay on the floor and start doing this, causing you to run out of the kitchen, not even caring about the flour from your apron leaving a trail behind you as you stare at his flailing body.

of course. just when you're making your favorite cookies to eat during the weekend...

“... woon…?”

“oh my GOD i literally cannot beat this level this is absolutely horrible i’m so bad at this game–”

“woon– oh my god–” you run over and reach out to him to grab his hand holding the flailing controller, putting it down and grabbing both his wrists, successfully putting them above his head as you stare down at him. he finally stops and sighs, looking into your eyes.

“you know, sometimes i wonder if i’m babysitting a child or if i’m living with my boyfriend.”

woon scoffs, all thoughts about the game forgotten as he swiftly switches your positions so that he was on top of you now.

“well, obviously your boyfriend, right?” he gives you a mischievous smile before he starts tickling your sides, getting flour all over his clothing and face before you’re finally able to make him stop.

yes, throwing a tantrum means you have to go and calm him down… which also means this happens every single time too. you still haven’t quite figured out a way to get out of the situation, which wasn't good because woon was getting better day by day at finding your weak spots.

"woon – oh my god – let go of me! my cookies are going to burn!"

"not until you say that i'm the bestest boyfriend in the world."

"jesus christ–"

coparenting a pet-

now, although you insisted that you have enough on your hands with woon in the house, he always wanted to get a pet – a pet dog, specifically. you’ve always said no because that would be too much of a commitment for you guys. but… for his birthday, you finally decided to give in – all the while doing a small prank.

see, you packaged a couple of cute dog toys and gave it to him on the morning of his birthday. he opened them up, happy to see the plushies but a little confused. 

“aren’t these for… dogs…?”

you couldn’t help but smile. “check outside.”

his eyes light up immediately and he zooms out of the room, and you follow him with your phone recording, watching as he picks up the dog from the box that you bought him in and had left outside just a couple minutes ago, the small brown furball nearly disappearing in his arms.

his eyes look at yours with a look of wonder and joy, and he smiles so wide, making your heart warm just by looking at the two of them together. he puts down the dog softly on the floor and immediately pulls you into his embrace, his large hand covering the back of your head and burying himself into your scent by snuggling into the crevice of your shoulder.

“thank you so much, love.”

© luv-y0urself / 2024 | taglist : @onedoornet @blankjournal

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 3]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.8k

Authors Note: I've been at home with not much to do today, so I decided to add the third chapter for you all before the weekend ends. Once again, thank you all for the kind words and taking the time to read this story. I've also decided to start a tag list, after being asked for it, so if you'd like to be included in that, please just let me know! x

Taglist: @khadeeeeej

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

The warm, morning sun peeked through the opening of the drawn curtains in your hotel bedroom, covering everything in a glowing light. Your mind slowly awoke, piecing together where you were, and what happened last night. You smiled at the thought, and reached out for your fiancé to hold him. But the side of the bed that was supposed to be his was cold and empty, making you open your eyes and furrow your brows. 

You got up slowly, walked out into the living room portion of your suite, and your eyes widened at the bottles of alcohol lining the coffee table. Jimin was there, passed out on the sofa, in a way you haven’t seen in a very long time. It made your chest ache for him, knowing he was slipping back into himself. 

“Honey?” You called out to no response. You walked over and kneeled down beside him, brushing his soft, blonde locks from his beautiful face. “Jimin…” 

He murmured something under his breath but refused to open his eyes, and moments later, he was back asleep as his body clearly tried to fight off the elevated alcohol levels in his system. You felt your eyes begin to tear up at the man in front of you, confused as to what could’ve sent him spiraling backwards. 

“You promised me you wouldn’t do this again, baby.” You whispered through spilling tears, knowing from experience that it was useless. He can’t hear you in his state. “You fucking promised me, Jimin… I-I can’t be around you right now, my love, I’m so sorry.” 

With that, you stormed into the bedroom and slid into a quick pair of leggings and a sweatshirt from your suitcase, grabbing your designer bag and phone. You began heading towards the door, but paused, looking back to the man you loved so, incredibly deeply. Not knowing what else to do to, you made your decision to look away from the heartbreaking disaster in front of you. You headed out the door, down the hall, and slipped quickly into the elevator to take you out of the building. 

The streets were busy, despite it being so early on a weekend morning. You loved the bustle of the city, as it offered a pleasant distraction. Watching people as you passed each other, you could easily slip into their life through your imagination. What job did they work? Were they single, or with someone? What did they like to eat? Did they have children? You could imagine it all, pretending to be somebody else in your mind, if only for a brief time. It was a coping strategy you learned as a girl, when you wanted to escape your own life, and the irony of it was never lost on you. You weren’t foolish, you saw the way people eyed your designer clothing, and you knew they must wonder what your life was like. They would never really knew that you would trade it all in for theirs, if it meant having a life that was just a little less complicated. 

Lost in thought, you had wandered several blocks down from your apartment, just exploring the beautiful neighborhood. You stumbled upon a homey-feeling American diner, with large windows on side, looking somewhat out of place built into the bottom floor of a large, very modern skyscraper. You could see in from where you stood across the street, and watched the staff bring coffee and delicious looking breakfast to each guest. The crosswalk light signaled green, so you began walking towards the restaurant, deciding to grab a bite to eat to clear your head. Maybe I could grab some yummy food for Jimin too, you thought, and talk things over while he sobers up. 

You entered through the front door, and the attached bell rang to alert the staff of a new customer.

“Good morning!” A sweet, red headed waitress with an apron tied around her waist called out in a sing-song voice from behind the counter. “Sit anywhere, I’ll bring you a menu!” 

“Thank you!” You responded, looking around for a place to sit. It seemed as though the place was a packed house, with every booth being taken. 

But there, in the back corner, you spotted a familiar face. Or, what you could catch of his face, as it was buried in his menu, with wide, boyish eyes looking over each option. You were thankful to see him, thinking it an intervention of some sort to keep you from having to be completely alone with your thoughts.

“Excuse me,” You walked over to the waitress who had greeted you. “That man in the corner there is a friend of mine, is he with someone?” 

“No ma’am.” She responded, shaking her head. “He likes to come in often and eat by himself.” 

“I think I’ll sit with him and surprise him, then. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t interrupting anything.” You smiled, which she returned. “Thank you.” 

You made your way over to him, with an unwavering grin on your face. When you arrived by his table, he still hadn’t looked up, lost on the seemingly endless food options on the menu. 

“Excuse me, is this seat taken? This place is so busy, I was wondering if I could join you?” 

Jung Kook’s eyes widened at the sound of that voice. The voice he would know anywhere, pleasant and gentle. 

“Y/N?” He responded, looking up at you. “What are you doing here? A-And of course, please, sit. Um, hi.” He mentally kicked himself for stuttering. Cool. He said sarcastically to himself. 

“Hi.” You giggled at his surprised and stumbling reaction. “I just decided to leave the hotel for a bit, and I spotted this place from across the street. It’s so popular, it must be delicious.” 

“Mhm, I come here sometimes and it’s always busy.” 

“Yeah? The waitress I talked to said she sees you in here often.” 

“O-oh… Yeah, I guess she probably does.” Jung Kook said shyly. 

You both made small talk over the food, the neighborhood and the local things to do that Jung Kook has discovered in his short time being here. While the conversation itself had little significance, happening over modest diner eggs, toast and coffee, the feeling Jung Kook had was indescribable. He never forgot, even after years of being apart, just how easy it is to have a conversation with you. The way you listen so intently, and keep your attention, as though nothing else in the world mattered. It made him feel so special and seen. Your voice was just as sugary as ever, and your giggles never changed, still able to make his heart race. He wanted to hear that laugh forever, and he wanted to be the man who made it happen. 

“Where’s Mr. Park this morning?” Jung Kook asks, suddenly noticing that you were alone. 

“Oh, Jimin?” You paused, hesitation not going unnoticed by the perceptive man sitting across from you. “He, um… He just wanted to sleep in. Jet lag and all that, y’know?” 

“Oh, right.” Jung Kook nodded, not wanting to dig deeper into your pregnant pause. It isn’t my business, he thought. “He seems like a great guy, by the way. You seem happy.” 

“Y-Yeah.” You stuttered, praying tears didn’t come to your eyes. “Jimin’s really amazing, he always has been. But um, what about you, Jung Kook? Are you seeing someone?” 

“No.” Jung Kook chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “No, I uh… I broke off an engagement back in Korea before moving to the city.” 

“You were engaged?” You asked, making sure you heard him correctly. “I’m so sorry to hear that it didn’t work out.” 

Jung Kook paused, thinking back to the woman whose heart he broke, as he looked at the woman who he’s always truly loved. You’re the reason I couldn’t love her. He said internally, gazing at your face. 

“It’s ok. I just think she wasn’t the one for me.” 

“Yeah? It sounds like you believe that everyone has someone perfect out there, just for them.” You said with a smile, and Jung Kook looked at your face, adoring the way the morning sun attached itself to your skin, making you glow. “I think so, too.” 

“I’ve always believed that. Everyone deserves to find their happiness.” Jung Kook said, his tone shifting in a way you couldn’t quite place, but his chocolate brown eyes were delicate as he looked at you. He swallowed, his tone heavy yet genuine when he added, “I’m glad you and Jimin found each other.” 

Your lips parted, attempting to find words that weren’t there. So you just nodded and offered a polite smile. The silence was thankfully cut short by the waitress, who brought your check. You went to reach for your wallet, but Jung Kook pulled his card out first and laid it onto the table. 

“Please, let me.” He said, his voice warm. “We’ll call it a thank you, for surprising me. I’m glad you did.” 

“Ok.” You grinned, unsure as to why your cheeks were heating up at his compliment. 

While you and Jung Kook were lost in your breakfast and conversation, Jimin had woken up to an empty hotel room. His head ached, but no worse than his chest did when he realized your absence. He had wanted to crawl into bed with you, hold you tight, and apologize for what he had done in the best way he knew how; cover your body with love, and spend the morning buried between your thighs as he pleasured you with kisses and soft, pressured licks.  But when the bed was empty, the panic set in. 

Quick thinking led him to go to his phone, and find your location, as you always shared your location with each other. He spotted your little dot on his phone at a diner, just a few blocks away, and Jimin felt a bit of comfort wash over him. She was just hungry. He thought, taking a deep breath. Let’s meet her there, she’ll be surprised. 

But what Jimin had not expected, was to see him there. The puppy-eyed lawyer sat across from you, and Jimin could tell even from across the street than the man held on to every word you said. Jimin knew that look well, because it’s how he looks at you, too. Jimin grits his teeth, and sends a quick text message to his main lawyer, Kim Namjoon. 

9:11 a.m: Something needs to be done about the new rookie on your team, because spending time alone with my fiancé is wildly inappropriate. See to it that this doesn’t happen again, or I will be finding new representation.  

9:12 a.m: *image attached* 

Jimin takes one last look at the scene in front of him, and goes back to the hotel room. He orders three more bottles, and passes out once again. 

——————————————————————————————————

On Monday morning, Jung Kook was feeling light. He entered his law firm building as he does every day; a freshly pressed black suit on, his dark hair neatly styled, and a cup of coffee in his hand. But this morning, he felt a bit happier, attributing it to a simple breakfast shared with you the weekend prior. He wished he could have breakfast with you every morning, but buried that thought, not daring to spoil his mood with fantasies. 

He sat down at his office desk, and began looking through his weekly calendar and emails. This week was the final week or preparation before the Park Jimin case truly begins, and Jung Kook was fully ready to explain to his mentor why he had told him last minute he needed to recuse himself. It would be the right, responsible thing to do, and it would give him space from you. As much as he wished he didn’t need it, he felt that he needed to move on. You found your happiness. It’s time to let you go. 

Namjoon entered Jung Kook’s office, and closed the door behind him. Jung Kook looked up at his face, which usually held a gentle, welcoming smile. This morning, however, Namjoon was clenching his jaw like a father who was trying not to explode on his son. 

“Jung Kook.” Namjoon said, his voice scarily calm. “I want… No, I need you to be honest with me. What is going on with you and Mr. Park’s fiancé?” 

“I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to.” Jung Kook answered professionally, causing Namjoon to roll his eyes. 

“For fuck’s sake, kid, drop the act.” Namjoon deep voice was almost a growl. “I’m going to lose out on a top client because you can’t keep your nose where it belongs.” 

“What-” Jung Kook was stopped by Namjoon throwing his phone down on his desk, a picture illuminating the screen. Jung Kook squinted at it, to see a photo of himself and you at the diner. 

“How did you get this photo?” Jung Kook asked, his heart sinking. 

“Mr. Park saw you. He’s furious.” Namjoon explained, pacing back and forth. “He called it ‘wildly inappropriate’, and threatened to find new representation if it happens again.” 

“Mr. Kim, I’m so sorry.” Jung Kook panicked. “Please understand, it’s a misunderstanding. Nothing happened, we was just-”

The office door knob turned, and a hush fell over the room. Jimin and yourself stood there at the door, hand in hand. Namjoon and Jimin locked eyes, and Namjoon could see that the client looked worse than he did just a few days prior. Dark, prominent circles were under his eyes, and his hair was slightly messier than before. Jung Kook noticed none of that, however, and stared directly at you. 

You were wearing dark sunglasses, with no thought to take them off despite being indoors. Your hair was seemingly brushed quickly, notably and uncharacteristically  not put together well. Your loose fitting clothes seemed carelessly thrown on, not styled perfectly in your usual fashion. You were quiet, head down, tightly holding Jimin’s hand and appeared to make yourself smaller, like you wanted to vanish into thin air. Jung Kook wanted so desperately to bring you in and hold you, shield you from whatever it was that made you look so tired, in such a short amount of time. 

“Mr. Park.” Namjoon greeted. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning.” Jimin responded, his throat sounding hoarse. “I came to fill out any paperwork, and tie up loose ends before we meet again next week.” 

“Of course, I was just talking with Mr. Jeon. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Mr. Jeon,” Jimin called out, his voice weak. “Mr. Kim informed me you were recusing yourself from my legal team for this case. I just wanted to thank you, for the work you’ve done.” 

“Y-You’re welcome, Mr. Park.” Jung Kook said, confused with the kind words. This wasn’t the furious tone that Namjoon had described. 

“My love,” Jimin turned to you, his voice extra soft and delicate. “Will you go with Mr. Kim to his office, please? I’ll be there soon, I just wanted to speak to Mr. Jeon privately about the case before he leaves us. I had some questions.” 

“Ok.” You said, your voice almost a whisper. Jimin squeezes your hand and kisses the top of your head before turning to Namjoon, who nods in understanding. 

“Right this way, Ms. Y/L/N.” Namjoon says gently, leading you out of the office. 

When you are out of sight, Jimin turns to you. The fury Namjoon spoke about is now prominent in his eyes, leading Jung Kook to realize that your presence is the thin defense that keeps his anger at bay. 

“Jeon Jung Kook.” Jimin spat. “I don’t know where you get off, eyeing up my fiancé in some cheap diner, but if I ever catch you sniffing around her again, I’ll ruin you. Do you understand me?” 

“Mr. Park, I never meant to offend you.” Jung Kook said. “Nothing happened. We just bumped into each other.” 

“I don’t want excuses, or explanations from you.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “I’m not a fucking idiot Mr. Jeon, I see the way you look at her. I’m warning you, to watch yourself. You’re from Busan, correct?” 

“Yes, Mr. Park.” 

“Then you know who I am, and who my father is.” Jimin’s voice was dripping in anger. “I will personally see to it that you never represent anyone in our city, or this city again, if you come near her. That’s a promise.” 

Jung Kook felt suffocated under the weight of the air and the weight of Jimin’s glare. Even in his disheveled state, his blonde locks dropping to his face couldn’t cover the anger in his eyes. Jimin stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind him, causing other office workers to startle and look into his room. Jung Kook buried his head in his hands, unsure as to what the right path to move forward is. 

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Now Presenting...

Starring Frat Boy!Sukuna and Virgin!Reader

A modern day college AU in which the reader is a young adult just now starting to shrug off their sheltered youth. And Sukuna is more than excited and willing to help lift that burden off your shoulders. Warning: this fic contains smut, loss of virginity, drinking, enemies to lovers, fingering, cunnilingus, semi-public sex, use of pet names and unprotected sex. Reader discretion is Advised ;p

Honestly, you really could not believe you dated this dunce. You remembered the break up like a trauma. Staring at his popcorn ceiling as he told you he simply couldn’t get past the fact you didn't want to sleep with him. He didn’t want to be with a prude. At the time, it crushed you. But now, as you sat at your desk, pouring red ink over every love letter he ever sent you, you couldn’t help but feel thankful you didn’t lose your virginity to him.

“What are you doing?” Your roommate asked as she walked into your shared dorm.

“Grading my ex’s love letters.” You said without looking away from your task. The awkward beat of silence that followed proved that she was not expecting that answer.

“Why?” She asked. You simply shrugged. To grieve, you guessed? 

“I felt the overwhelming need to correct his grammar.” You could hear her ask why again before she asked it. “I plan on sending them back.”

“You really need to get laid.” Your roommate laughed.

“He hasn’t gotten higher than a d on any of these.” You muttered, “A d Mei.”

“You need some D” Mei chuckled, going and sitting on her bed. “I could get you laid ya know.”

“I don't want to get laid.” You reminded her. That wasn’t quite true. You did want to get laid, you just wanted to do it on your own terms and you didn’t think that was a lot to ask for!

“Well do you wanna come to a party with me tonight?” Mei asked with a smug smirk. “Alpha Beta Omega house is hosting a party tonight, you should come! ABO has all the hottest guys ya know.” You did know, and while the thought was rather enticing, you were never really big on partying. You came to college to get your degree for fucks sake!

“I don’t know Mei,” you sighed, “I hate parties…”

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun!” Mei tried to sell it. “Please! Don’t let me go alone, that would be a dick move, ya know?” She pouted, giving you the puppy dog eyes that roped you into every party you had been to since starting school. You sighed in irritation, knowing it was useless to keep fighting.

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

♥️♥️♥️

Ryomen had no fucking idea what he was thinking when he signed up for an 8 am class, but if he could kick his past self’s ass, he would. He didn’t think he had been on time for this class even once. He tried everything to wake himself up. Putting his phone on the other side of the room, sleeping with the curtains open, drinking vodka instead of whiskey, all of it was about as effective as putting dry socks on a drowning man. 

He walked into class already twenty minutes late. He felt all eyes fall on him, which was fair considering he had interrupted the lecture. He ignored it though, confidently and nonchalantly walking to the nearest empty chair. A chair that just so happened to be next to you. 

You felt your heart do level 11 gymnastics in your chest as the Ryomen Sukuna sat next to you. You hated how attracted you were to him. He was everything your parents had ever forbid you from going near. 6 '4 and nothing but a wall of muscle, you couldn’t help but feel like his face full of sharp tattoos just emphasized how soft his puppy-dog-eyes were. It made you want to run your fingers through his soft pink hair. 

Suddenly, your keyboard had become the most interesting thing in the world. Your eyes burned holes into your computer as you prayed that Ryomen wouldn’t look at you, or worse talk to you. You found him attractive, yea, but you also knew he was bad news. He was a member of the ABO fraternity and was known for being a womanizing piece of shit who often defaulted to calling you “woman” when he forgot your name. The man was a walking talking red flag factory and to desire him was to desire madness and hurt. You should want nothing to do with him.

And yet.

“Hey, do you have the notes?” Ryomen asked, looking at you from the corners of his eyes and ho-ly shit. Fuck whatever the fuck the professor was going on about, you now had his full attention. He fully turned to you, taking you all in. If Ryomen had to describe his dream woman, he would simply pull up a picture of you. A reluctant innocence clung to you, begging him to find the delinquent underneath it all. He didn’t know what he was thinking, signing up for an 8 am class, but he would kiss his past self if he could.

“Yea, for sure.” You muttered, biting your lip as you pulled up your email. He showed you his laptop so you could get his email straight from the source, and thanks to technology, he had the notes in seconds.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” He smiled, showing his unusually sharp canines. You thought that you were done with this interaction, thankfully, but then he kept going. “So, are you going to the ABO party tonight?”  He asked. 

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, “Parties aren’t really my thing.” Of course, you probably spent most of your life sheltered, too scared to disappoint your parents to ever rebel. Ryomen wanted your rebellion more than he wanted to pass his finals. 

“You should go,” Ryomen whispered, “I bet you’d be really popular.”

“Yea, and by that you mean men would be drooling over how bad they want to fuck me, right?” You scoffed, forgetting yourself. He did in fact mean that by the way, but this response from you is not what he expected. You kept him on his toes. You intrigued him. “Now, just why do you think I’d want that?” You asked.

“So you’re worried about creepy dudes?” Ryomen asked, raising an eyebrow. “Alright then, Come with me then. Be my date.” He smiled that fang filled smile that was quickly burning its way into your heart.

“No.” You said plainly.

“Oh come on,” he damn near begged, “You get to go and have fun without the fear of creeps, because I’ll be protecting you, and I get to show up with a beautiful woman on my arm, it’s a win-win!” You weren’t sure when it happened, but class had ended and others were leaving.

“And just how do you plan to protect me from creepy guys when you are the creepy guy?” You challenged.

“By out creeping them.” Okay, even you had to admit that was funny. Ryomens smile widened as he realized he had gotten you to laugh. He won. 

“Ryomen, let’s go!” Someone called for him. Ryomen looked to the door and found his friends standing there waiting for him, Geto looking particularly annoyed. “We’re going to be late for class.” Geto said, annoyance dripping from him. 

He quickly scribbled down his number into his notebook, ripping the page and putting it on your computer. “Just think about it and call me, yea? I’m excited to take you.” He winked as he rushed to join his friends. 

You stared at the number for a few seconds after he left. You felt like the number was taunting you, yes, but also enticing you. It showed you a night of fun, excited passion that you had never experienced before but so desperately missed. It showed you a taste of freedom and rebellion. Doing something bad, knowing it was bad, and doing it anyway because it was so intoxicating. It showed you everything you wanted and more. 

You threw it in the trash on your way out the door.

♥️♥️♥️

You sighed as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The white tennis skirt Mei Mei had picked out was far shorter than you wanted, and the pink sweater was far tighter. You tried to put on a pair of stockings to compensate for the shortness of the skirt, but, all they did was accentuate your legs. You couldn’t believe Mei had convinced you to go to this stupid party. 

I mean, you could. It wasn’t hard, she offered to do your calculus homework for a week, you would have killed your mother to get out of having to do calculus for a week. But when you agreed to let her pick out the outfit, you had never expected—or prepared—to wear something so….

Sexy. That's the word you had been looking for, you looked sexy. You had never really dressed up before, sweatpants and t-shirts were typically your uniform. You were surprised at the way your body worked for you when you let it.

“Are you ready yet?!” Mei asked 

“Yea, I’m coming.” You said, finally pulling yourself away from the mirror and joining Mei by the door. She gave you another once over, smiling in satisfaction as she did. The outfit she’d picked out had really come together. 

“You look good,” She nodded. 

“Thanks,” You shrugged, trying to hide your slight embarrassment. You weren’t used to compliments. Mei nodded one last time before ushering you out the door. 

“Hey, Mei?” You asked as the two of you started the walk to the ABO Frat house. 

“What’s up Y/n?” She asked.

“You’re not going to leave me alone, right? Like, we’re actually gonna hang out and protect each other tonight?” Mei gave you the warmest, most reassuring smile you had ever seen.

“Of course Y/n. I won’t leave your side for even a second.”

♥️♥️♥️

You regretted every decision you had ever made in your life that led to you coming to this party. The music was way too loud, the drinks were way too strong (thanks Nanami), and the people were way too obnoxious. Mei had abandoned you almost the moment the two of you had walked in the door, making you realize you really needed to get better friends. It wouldn’t have been that bad, except some asshole that smelled like corpse had decided, against your will, he was taking you home tonight.

He wouldn’t leave you alone. You’d tried everything, complete disinterest, telling him you had a boyfriend, hell even telling him you were gay! Nothing would deter him. You even tried to go to the bathroom to try and lose him and he just fucking waited for you outside the bathroom door. This Mahito motherfucker was really starting to freak you out.

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” The ragdoll yelled in your ear, sending a fog of rotten breath over your face. You didn’t hide the disgust you felt as you looked for an out— any—to get out of this situation. 

“What do you say you and I get outta here?” He asked. As he did, he put a singular hand on your waist. The moment he did, your head filled with sirens and screaming, every true crime podcast you had ever heard, willingly or not, replayed through your head and you were never more sure that this man had women tied up in his basement. Your adrenaline spiked as you looked for any way to get him to properly fuck off.

Ah-ha!

“Babe!” You yelled, all smiles and cheer as you ripped yourself away from Mahito and ran to Ryomen. Mahito followed, like the idiot he was, but this time you somehow knew you’d be fine. Ryomen looked confused at first, then noticed the corpse walking with you and it all clicked. He smiled back at you, more warmly than you ever expected, 

“Hey! Babygirl!” He called out, holding out his arm so you could bury yourself into his side. The girl he was talking to was very very confused, but decided to remove herself from the situation before she got caught up in any drama. Shout out to her.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, where’ve you been?” He asked, leaning down and kissing your forehead to really sell it. You considered slapping him, but, figured that would break the illusion, so you settled for giggling instead. 

“I’ve been trying to get rid of this creep.” You said, your eyes darting from Mahito to Ryomen in a very Help Me way. Ryomen looked at Mahito and all of the warmth instantly left him. It sent chills up your spine to watch him go from joking smiles to cold stares. The light left his eyes as they narrowed and you were sure his features somehow got sharper. Or maybe that was the tattoos.

“Have you been fucking with my girl?” he asked. The emphasis he put on “mine” sent chills of a different kind through you. Oh, you liked that. You really liked that. You pressed your thighs together to try and take your mind off the feelings between them, and took a drink of your vodka redbull to try and cool down. It didn’t work. 

“Well, I- I mean, I-” 

“I-I-I.” Sukuna mocked, “You didn’t have any trouble talking to my girlfriend all night, why’re you having trouble now?” Danger radiated off of Sukuna like a match in a room full of methane, waiting to be lit. It was the kind of danger that drew you in, no matter how much you resisted. It felt inevitable. “Come on man, if you’re going to be a fucking creep you might as well say it with your chest.”

“I’m not a creep!” Mahito tried to argue.

“That's not what she said,” Ryomen said, holding you just a little bit tighter, sending sparks throughout your body again. “So what, you’re calling her a liar?”

“Well, no, I-”

“You say I alot.” Sukuna said, taking a sip of his drink to really show off his disinterest. “You know what I think?” He asked. “I think that you should get the fuck out and go the fuck home before I rip your larynx out of you via your asshole.” He threatened. It was such a ridiculous tough guy line that normally you would have laughed, but, somehow he sold it hook, line, and sinker. You could see that fact alone in the now bleached white face of Mahito. 

Sukuna looked into his cup, determining he was going to need a refill. “You have exactly 45 seconds to leave before I turn you into pie filling.” He said without looking at the smaller man. He finished his drink and looked back at him. “45, 44, 39-”

The count down did its job wonderfully. Mahitos ass was kicked into high gear. You could see in his eyes he was hearing the same sirens you were earlier as he ran to find the front door, desperate to get as far away from the monster that was holding you as soon as possible. You, on the other hand, were feeling the exact opposite effect. You wanted to be even closer to him than ever.

“So, why didn’t you call me?” Ryomen asked, looking down at you. Somehow, all the ice in his eyes had defrosted, leaving him with his warm puppy dog ones. You realized that you were in danger rather quickly and detangled yourself from his arm. 

“Oh, because I threw it away.” You smiled. The liquor you had been drinking was officially flowing through your veins, and quite frankly, you didn’t really care about decorum. Ryomen blinked at you, fully processing what you said.

“Why?” He asked. 

“Because, while you may not be a creep, Ryomen, you’re still a womanizing fuck boy that never had any real intention of starting a relationship with me. Am I right?” You asked, batting your pretty eyelashes at him. Ryomen couldn’t help but smirk. Damn, you really had him pegged, didn’t you? He was growing fonder and fonder of you by the minute. 

“You’re right.” He admitted, taking a step closer to you, “But, I gotta say, I respect you having the balls to say it to my face. Makes me think you might actually be worth getting to know.” Which was the closest Ryomen could ever get to saying ‘I find you at least intriguing and would actually be interested in a relationship.’ You just smirked at him and hummed. 

“But are you worth getting to know?” You asked. Before he could answer, Mei had suddenly returned from the astral plane, you fucking guessed. Of course she would be nowhere to be found when you needed her, but show up to ruin things right as they get interesting. 

“Y/n!” She laughed as she came downstairs, “We’re playing seven minutes in heaven upstairs, you gotta come play!” She said, giggling as she grabbed your arm.

“I can think of nothing more opposed to my soul.” You said plainly, taking your arm back. “Getting sweaty in a dark closet with a stranger? Sounds like hell.”

“Sounds pretty fun to me.” Ryomen said. It was a dangerous gamble, but if the cards were on his side he could just end up being the stranger getting sweaty with you in a dark closet. 

“You would, mega creep.” You scoffed, semi-jokingly.

“Come on Y/n, what's the worst that happens? You end up making awkward chit chat for seven minutes in a closet? Come on!” Mei groaned.

“If they make you uncomfortable, yell herpes and I’ll come kill them for you.” Sukuna offered. “Your safe word is herpes?” You questioned. 

“Can you think of anything that kills the mood faster than the thought of herpes?” Ryomen asked. Alright, fair enough Ryomen. 

“Come on Y/n, please come play? It’ll be fun!” Mei begged. You sighed, wondering when you planned to stop making bad decisions tonight.

“Okay, fine. I’ll play.” You groaned while both of your companions cheered. In a flurry, you were being whisked away up the stairs, both of them trying to get you in the game before you had a chance to back out. You were reminded once again that you hated college parties, walking into a smoke filled dorm room lit by led lights and adorned with a weed pride flag. 

“Love that you can tell what part of this room was decorated by Gojo and what was decorated by Geto.” Mei laughed as she led you to a group of young adults sitting in a circle. 

“Overhead lights are the devil!” Gojo yelled, throwing a chip into his mouth. A not at all shocking amount of people in the group of (Probably neurodiverse) stoners agreed with him in hums and cheers. You sat down next to him, Mei sitting on the other side of you and Ryomen  taking a free spot in the circle somewhere across from you. 

“Who’s in the closet now?” Sukuna asked. As if summoned by his question, Nanami and Shoko walked out of the closet, both of them on their phones. 

“Geto’s turn.” Shoko said. Mei scoffed at them both.

“Weren't you making drinks, Nanami?” Mei asked as Geto spun the bottle.

“I was..” Nanami assured her, “I got bored.” The bottle landed on Gojo, and everyone let out childish woos and whistles. Geto and Gojo both grinned like fools as they rushed to the closet, the two of them always excited to feel each other up. Honestly their participation in this game took you a bit by surprise. What if one member of the couple didn’t get the other?

“God they need to just get together already.” Ryomen muttered, rolling his eyes. What?! They weren't together?! Before you could express your shock, a very loud, very breathy moan left the closet door, filling you with second hand embarrassment for the two. The rest of the crowd ate that shit up though, shouting encouragement and wolf whistling. Even Ryomen was laughing with the crowd when he caught your eyes.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “What? Voyeurism not your thing?”

You looked at him in annoyance. “Why would it be anyone's thing?”

He shrugged in response. “Performance is performance. People will do anything for attention.”

You raised an eyebrow at him now. “Would you do anything for attention?”

He smirked at you. “I’d do anything for your attention.”

Your silent conversation was interrupted by another loud moan, this time courtesy of Geto, and the crowd went wild again, shouting vulgarities at them. You began to wonder if this was typical of them, or if they were— as Ryomen suggested— putting on a performance. You got your answer as the timer rang, marking their seven minutes as up. They exited the closet with a flourish, bowing for the crowd and showing off their messed up clothes and hair. Was this the appeal of seven minutes in heaven? You didn’t understand party games.

“Alright Ryo, your go.” Geto laughed, giving fistbumps and highfives while he sat down. Ryomen rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that, Gene Simmons” He growled at him, before giving you one last look and spinning the bottle. You were mildly curious to see where the bottle would land, already feeling bad for whatever poor schmuck that got locked in a closet with him. 

And then the bottle landed on you. Cheers and hollars surrounded and pounded in your ears. Your body was in super-hyper-defense mode which…was really just an oncoming panic attack. Of all the people you imagined being shoved in a closet with, Ryomen Sukuna had never crossed your mind. You were going to be in a small, confined space with him, all alone, where you’re literally expected to at least make out. You were electrified back to life as a hand fell in front of your face.

You looked up and saw the hand was attached to the grinning face of Ryomen, fireworks exploding behind his eyes. “You coming baby girl?” He asked with a wink. You didn’t have to. You could have turned tail and run away, out of the party and back to your dorm. That was actually what you probably should do, it was the safe option! The one that would make your mother proud. 

You took his hand, sending the crowd into yet another tizzy. But this time, you heard none of it, your mind focused entirely on Ryomen. He squeezed your hand reassuringly as he led you to the closet and smiled almost comfortingly. You didn’t know his smile could be comforting, thanks to the fangs, but it was. All of it felt very…off, coming from Ryomen, probably the least comforting person at your school.

He pulled you into the closet, pulling you close to his chest as he pulled the door closed. A lot of pulling was going on. You braced yourself for war, for him to kiss you. You closed your eyes tight, feeling your entire body tense but…nothing came. He didn’t kiss you. In fact, he let go of you. You opened your eyes just to see him leaning against the wall of the closet, staring at you with his hands in his pockets.

“You…didn’t kiss me?” You questioned, just for him to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“No? You didn’t want me to.” You weren’t sure why, but that assertion upset you. How dare he claim to know what you wanted?! You didn’t even know what you wanted!

“You don’t know that.” you scoffed, causing him to laugh.

“Oh please,” He shriveled into what (You hoped) as an overly dramatized rendition of your body language from seconds before, “Doesn’t necessarily scream ‘Kiss Me’.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. You crossed your arms, but, you knew he was right.

“It’s just…I’ve never done this before.” You tried to explain. 

“You’ve never been kissed?” He seemed genuinely shocked.

“No, dipshit, I’ve kissed people before! I’ve just never played seven minutes in heaven.”

“Oh, yea I could kinda tell,” He admitted with a shrug, “You scream sheltered kid. I bet even now, as a grown ass adult you’re still too scared to rebel against mommy.” The way he said “mommy” struck you. It was soaked in condescension and mockery. You hated that he was right. You hated that despite the fact you were fully grown getting a college degree, you still heard your mothers voice in the back of your head every time you wanted to do something even a little bit rebellious. You were willing to bet no one else had that! You bet Ryomen didn’t have that.

“I am not!” you lied to him.

“Oh yea?” He challenged.

“Yea!” You asserted.

“Then prove it. Kiss me.” he said. Ryomens eyes burned into yours as he stepped forward, slowly closing the already small gap between you. His presence was intense and all consuming and hot. You could feel him burning you away from the inside out, as if he was a raging inferno and you were just a piece of tissue paper caught in his wake. He had a smirk that just screamed I know I just won and it drove you crazy because he was right! He was either right or he got the kiss you knew he’d been chasing all night. Well fuck it. There was only one way for you to win here too.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Ryomen didn’t skip a beat, pulling you even closer to him and pushing you against the wall, the soft thud sending the drunken crowd outside the door into hysterics. Your fingers tangled in his hair and his hands slid up your shirt to grab your bare skin. He bit your lip, making you gasp and giving him room to deepen the kiss.

Your head was spinning with excitement and panic, your breathing becoming harsher by the minute as he moved to kiss your neck. Your ex had never kissed you like this before. So desperate to have you, as if you were the most desirable being on the planet. It excited you, electrocuting your nervous system with every touch, pull, or bite. Despite your better judgment, a moan escaped you, sending the drunken crowd outside the closet into another bout of hysterics.

Your body reacted to him in ways that it had reacted to nobody else before, you needed him. He grabbed one of your thighs and rested it on his hip, his hand sliding under the hem of your skirt.

“Ryomen..” You moaned out, soft enough not to feed the masses.

“Say it again.” He purred.

“Ryomen.”

“That's seven!” Gojo called, pounding on the closet door, startling both you and Ryomen. He pulled away just in time for Gojo to pull the door open, a smug smirk plastered on his face. “You two love birds have fun?” He teased. Sukuna rolled his eyes, his annoyance with being interrupted evident.

“Not as much fun as you and your boy toy.” He scoffed, grabbing your hand and pulling you from the closet. The crowd of drunken young adults had grown, meaning the crowd of people wolf whistling and cheering (jeering?) had grown. Embarrassment exploded from your chest. What the hell were you thinking?! Kissing Ryomen?! You silently scolded yourself.

You didn’t even fully process that he had dragged you from the dormroom until you were in a new one, this one seemingly vacuumed sealed away from the party. The art on the wall queued you into the fact that this was probably the room Ryomen and Nanami shared. 

“Ryo?” You asked as he pulled you into the room and locked the door behind him.

“Nicknames now huh?” He chuckled, “That's cute.”

He locked the door. He locked the door. You may have been a sheltered kid, but you weren’t dumb. You knew what a locked door met at a frat party. The realization sparked your nervous system into high gear and you felt the need to press your thighs together again.

“I’ve never done this before.” You told him quickly.

“What, sex on a first date?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your waist again. You’d…hardly call this a fucking date, but that was an issue for later.

“No, sex.” You told him. He actually backed away.

“Really?” He asked, more shocked than you would have liked. “Hey, look we don’t have to-”

“I know we don’t.” You cut him off. “I want to.” He smirked almost proudly as he closed the gap between the two of you once again.

“I knew I liked you.” He purred. Before you had a chance to ask what that meant, his lips had crashed into yours, pulling you into another heated kiss. It was like the two of you physically couldn't get enough of each other, like you’d simply stop breathing if you weren’t kissing. It sent your head into a heated flurry, making you feel light. He pressed you into the bed, wrapping one of your legs around his hips as his hand slipped underneath your skirt, his fingers tracing the now translucent spot in your underwear. 

Another moan escaped you, sounding far more desperate than you would have liked. “Needy, are we?” Ryomen chuckled, pushing your panties to the side and running two fingers up and down your slit, collecting the sticky lube. You wanted him so bad it hurt. Your body felt flushed with hellfire and you couldn't help but wonder if he was this cocky with every girl he brought to his bed.

“Yea,” You moaned through a heavy breath, “You gonna take care of it, or whaa-” Your quip died in your throat as he buried two fingers into your weeping pussy, up to the knuckle without even a warning.

“What was that doll?” He teased, curling his fingers up to perfectly hit your g-spot and send you astral projecting into the ninth dimension. Was this what you were missing out on? Your hands fell to his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life as he curled his fingers again. This was a completely new type of pleasure for you, one you couldn’t get from your own fingers or a toy. You were hooked on it, you needed more of it. You started grinding down on his hand, chasing the high he was more than obliged to give you. 

“Feel good?” He purred. You nodded helplessly, your brain too mushy to make words. “Want to feel even better?” His smirk was wicked. You didn’t have time to process it though, or even answer the question before he removed your panties and ducked his head under your skirt, his lips quickly finding your clit. The new sensation was your tipping point. The fire in your veins overtook you, your head felt like it was made of cotton, and the tension that had been growing in you was reaching a breaking point.

“R-ryo,” You panted desperately, “I-its too much, I-” Your pleas for mercy are cut off as he slips another finger into you, shooting sharp tendrils of pleasure throughout your body, finding every last inch of you. Your brain was mush and your nerves on high alert, feeling every single one of the pink haired man's movements.

Your entire body felt tense as heat continued to pool in hot waves in your stomach, every curl of his fingers, every swipe of his tongue bringing you one step closer to the brink. You had never wanted anything so bad in your life. Your hands tangled in his hair, subconsciously pulling him closer to your needy cunt. Ryomen very much obliged, giving you everything you wanted and more.

“I-I, ah-!” all of the intense feelings were building into a crescendo inside of you, your small boat in the ocean of oxytocin and euphoria was capsizing. All at once your body seized, you thought you whined out his name but you weren’t sure. Pleasure came rolling over your entire body in seething waves, filling all of your senses and leaving you shaking like a chihuahua. 

“You're beautiful when you cum.” Had to be one of the weirdest compliments you had ever received. You lifted your head off the bed to see Ryomen wiping his mouth off. He stood up, taking off his shirt, and holy shit. You don’t know why the thought never occurred to you that the tattoos would be on his chest too. They covered his face, they were on his arms and wrists, why wouldn’t they be on his chest? It made you wonder where else they were.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, knowing full and well you were. You looked away in embarrassment, just to feel him grab the hem of your sweater. “I showed you mine, let me see yours” He teased, pulling the pink top off of you. His reaction gave you your confidence back plus some. You felt emboldened by the way he beheld you, like you were Venus herself. You smirked as you took off your bra, exposing your chest to him.  

“Enjoying the view?” You asked. 

“Very much so.” he said in a rush before his eager, hot mouth wrapped around your right nipple, his hand coming up to play with the left. You had never imagined having your tits played with would feel so good. Maybe it was just the effect Ryomen had on you. But his actions left you whimpering softly under him, unconsciously bucking your hips to make some friction. He noticed the command he had over your body, the way you melted into him. He knew you were his, he just had to seal the deal. 

He pulled away, undoing his belt and jean buttons to free his cock. You bucked your hips at the view again, feeling your cunt clench around nothing. He was bigger than you expected, thick and long. You’d probably have been a little bit intimidated if you weren’t so desperate to feel that high again. He fisted himself with one hand and clumsily rubbed your sensitive nub with the other. But it wasn’t enough anymore, you needed him. 

“Ryo, please..”

“Please what Y/n?” He smirked. He knew exactly what you wanted. But, he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily.

“Ryomen, please, I need you.” You whined, not wanting to say it outloud.

“I’m right here baby girl, what do you need?” His grin was wicked and still full of mirth. You were starting to hate him again.

“Ryomen please, I need your cock, I need you, I need you to fuck me.” You blurted out all at once, your mouth moving faster than your mind did. His grin turned into a full on smile.

“Well, then why didn’t you just say that?” He laughed as he lined himself up with your soaking cunt.

“I di-AHH!” You screamed as he pushed his fat cock into you, the collision with your cervix jolting you into a state of hypersensitivity. You clung onto him desperately, your cunt clamping down around him, trying to push him out and pull him deeper all at the same time. You felt helplessly stretched out underneath him, your mind trying to find your body.

“Relax for me baby,” Ryomen moaned into your neck, kissing it softly. Easy for him to say! He wasn’t just impaled! You took deep, jagged breaths, to try and reregulate your fried nervous system. You took in the smell of pine and cigarettes, the almost comforting feeling of his body flush with yours, and the near tenderness of the kisses he was trailing along your neck. It was a beautiful caricature of intimacy, really.

Finally, you had relaxed enough around him for him to move. And move he did. To his credit, he tried to take it slow. He tried to be considerate of your virgin status (well…former virgin status) and not hurt you. But, Ryomen was not the slow gentle, “making love” type and before he knew it, he was chasing his high with a ferocity that left you weak under him. 

You weren’t complaining though. His thrusts were intoxicating, the curve of his dick hitting your g-spot with every thrust of his hips. He was stretching you to the point of delirium, feeling a rush of ecstasy every time he moved inside of your velvety walls. Your head was in heaven and your soul was in hell. Everything was all at once too hot and too cold, overwhelming. The waves of euphoria were building up inside of you again, a string tangling over itself again and again until it was taunt. 

One of his hands moved to massage at your clit again, coaxing your climax out of you with every stroke. You were speeding at 160 miles per hour off of a cliff and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Your mind was filled with nothing but Ryomen Ryomen Ryomen as electricity and pleasure coarse through your body. It felt like you were an electrical fire underneath him, no longer just tissue paper but an inferno in your own right.

“Ryomen, I’m-!”

“I know.” He said as he continued to chase both of your highs. The way your cunt clenched around him, pulling him back in with every thrust told him everything he needed to know. “Cum for me.”

Your body was under his command whether you liked it or not. You came undone around his cock, the string finally snapping as you drove off the cliff with no hesitation, and into your grave and erotic bliss, pleasure overtaking your body in waves. Your entire body shook under him as the intensity of your climax overcame you. He wasn’t far behind with the way your velvety walls were clenching around him, pulling his own orgasm from him. He came deep into your cervix, overflowing you and making you pray you wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences later.

You both stilled for a moment in the afterglow. As he pulled out and managed to collapse next to you, not on top of you. What did you do now? You could still hear the party raging outside of the door, but the last thing you wanted to do was rejoin it. You looked over at Ryomen, still trying to regulate his breath next to you.

You moved yourself to rest your head on his chest, figuring that was what couples do in movies after sex, right? For a second, you thought he was going to push you off. But, he didn’t. Quite the opposite really, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. 

“Sooo,” He said, finally breaking the silence, “Do you want my number again?”

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・Part 2 Out Now! ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

[mrsjellymunson]

🥁Drummer!Eddie headcanons thanks entirely to THIS by @littlexdeaths and THIS by @somnambulic-thing 🥁

Because of course I have to give him a backstory…

- He was always hyper as a kid and hitting things with pencils and rulers and branches - himself, furniture, bushes, other children…

- He’d frustrate his mother (affectionately) by stealing her wooden mixing spoons and smashing them against cupboard doors, his toys, empty food boxes, and any pans he could steal from the kitchen

- She eventually started collecting things for him, like plastic tubs, paint cans, wooden boxes, and encouraged him to play them outside

- Al, unsurprisingly, wasn’t a fan, so she tried to get Eddie interested in other instruments too. It kind of worked. He’d spend hours wandering the woods near his home with a secondhand harmonica one of his mom’s friend’s husbands gave him, and a thrifted tin whistle, but he always drifted back to the feral, manic energy of bashing objects with sticks

- His middle school teachers never let him have free reign in music class, sometimes excluding him from it entirely. They wanted him to be ‘good at school stuff’ first, and saw music time as a reward. But, if they’d just let him engage in the way he needed to, they would’ve seen that he was ‘good at’ that to a level far beyond his peers. Plus, it would’ve had the added benefits of helping him manage his energy levels, and concentrate better in his other classes

- Eventually he moves in with Wayne, who finds an old acoustic guitar at a yard sale that Eddie absolutely loves. But his passion for rhythm remains, and he collects old containers, cans and pots and arranges them outside the trailer, tinkering away with them of an evening as a way of unwinding before bed

- The neighbours initially hate it, but when they notice that this kid actually has a decent sense of rhythm they start bringing him stuff to add to his set, like plastic barrels and metal oil drums

- He inadvertently becomes the locus of entertainment for the ‘park parties’ that start to happen. People join in with guitars, banjos, at least two residents have violins and someone’s friend even brings a clarinet one time. When some of the old geezers discover he plays harmonica, just like they do, they have ‘hoedown showdowns’ where they duel, and there’s much cheering from the other residents. Eddie even learns to play the spoons (he’s an annoying natural) from the old codger four trailers down, who’d barely been seen outside of his home for months at this point

- One night he and some other disaffected friends break into the High School music room, intending to do some damage, maybe even steal a few things. But when Eddie steps in, after strumming his fingers over the strings of a few instruments and plonking away on the piano as he walks past it, he spots an old, tattered drum kit at the far end. It’s red, with peeling decals, the supports are corroding and at least two of the skins have been mended with duct tape, but to Eddie’s eyes it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. It seems to emit its own light, and levitates above the ground, calling to him. He sits behind it, picking up the first decent pair of sticks he’s ever held, and starts to experimentally tap out a rhythm. He finds the foot pedal, and adds it in. Tentatively, he makes contact with the cymbals, revelling in the variety of sounds he can make. After only a matter of moments he’s practically playing a tune, and his cohorts stop their fiddling and pause to listen. One walks over, aghast, and nods his head to the beat for while before remarking, “You’re a fucking drummer, dude!”

Final quote shamelessly stolen from the documentary ‘Count Me In’ where Taylor Hawkins describes how he discovered his future vocation (if you're a drumming fan I highly recommend it).

Visual references: HERE from @eddiemunsons-missingnipple and THIS by @jqmunson

Adding my usuals, my series are coming along, I promise 😁🤭 @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @losingmygrasponreality @richter-raccoon @1deverland

[affableramen]

ball event with pantalone

You can read the full request here. I chose early relationship for this one. The pre-relationship would feel too forced, while established would lack spice.

It is a ball event invitation that you scarcely accept. You were never a party type of person and the usual noisiness of public gatherings would irritate you horribly. You would decline this proposal at once had your extraverted and easy-going friend not persuaded you into coming. Thus it is, you are entering the ball event with the thought of how laughable that decision is. You walk into the building, the guard let you in with no problem whatsoever. It’s a large, old Fontainian tower once aged to the state of pure archaic fashion, but was reconstructed for entertainment purposes since recently.

“What a ridiculous decision it had to be”, you said to yourself yet your legs lead you forward.

Upon entering the ball room you are astonished with how many people were invited, and of different classes each. You witness the wealth gap precisely, but restrain yourself from judging furthermore. Bewildering though, almost the soon as you enter your eyes bump into a familiar figure - Pantalone, the Regrator is at the event too! He is engaged in a what seems to be flattering conversation with the elite of Fontaine. You subtly observe their appearances and take a quick look at your own outfit. It looks cheap, but you instead of being upset with wealth differences you convince yourself that one should stand proud in the face of rich people, besides it is not their business what you wear exactly since you’ve been invited too.

Per usual, Pantalone has no trouble at all with luring people into easy, lightweight chats on absolutely random topics. You were always impressed how effortless he was with others, though you secretly knew how most of his conversations should not have been taken seriously. The half of them were lies and fake flattery, to which you had eventually grown to have no objections. Though he seems quite contented with himself, and you don’t have too much time to inspect his engagements further as he turns around and notices you too.

Your frustration with every single lady that engages in conversation with him, with no restraint and shame courting him, vanishes as he looks at you. It is about time for the dancers to pair up, Pantalone excuses himself and you see him walk in your direction, his wine glass rejected. You try to hide it the strongest way possible but something is telling you that Pantalone is aware of your anxieties. How irrational, you think, to let a man know that you feel jealous and do not bear a thought of him being won by someone else’s affections. 

When the people pair up, Pantalone chooses the candidate… and it seems there is only one vacant lady left at the moment, which was just about right for him.

It is as fate itself pushed him closer to you that you found yourself pairing with Pantalone. Greeting you with a usual smile (though, it was a different kind of smile that he offered to you) Pantalone offers you his frail yet elegant hand.

“We’re finally alone. I thought that would never happen.”

You accept the hand with an amiable smile back.

“Why? We met last week as far as I remember. I do not believe you’d miss my company for such short time.”

“Yes, but we had barely talked for two minutes back then. While I have much more time of you to myself tonight.”

You try to hide your eyes at the audacity of this man’s blunt comments. You didn’t take it to heart since you kind of adjusted to his nature, known for sharp and not always appropriate remarks. 

“It’s peculiar how you keep staring at me though I’m wearing such a cheap dress.”

“Oh, the cost of your outfit does not interest me at all, my dear. It is you who’s wearing it, and I see nothing but beauty before me.”

“You and your compliments go about a level higher in effortless bluntness each time we speak”, you chuckle under your breath. 

It’s the beat of the music when the male dancer should raise the female one in the air, and you look at Pantalone quite frantically. He doesn’t give an extra thought to it, his arms secured around your waist and he raises you to the beat, he does. The way he lifts you feels artless, given rather a passionate than a rational approach. When his fingers close around your waist you feel noticeable heat rush down your spine. It becomes clear to you that this man has no friendly or platonic intentions. He dances not with usual feigned politeness, but with carefree spark in his eyes. He wants you the most intimate way possible, and you feel huge weight drop off your shoulders upon thinking that this man is not playing with you like a pet for temporary entertainment. 

You keep your eyes glued to him. 

“We did it.”

“Indeed. Were you scared?”

“No at all—there’s one more in a few seconds, I believe.”

His eyes gleam with a hint of mischief as he wraps his fingers around you once more. 

“Hold on tight”, he murmurs before lifting you off the ground once again. He holds you for a few long moments, eyes to eyes, before crushing his lips into yours. 

Everyone around you two stops dancing and simply stares. A bunch of ladies shocked upon seeing Lord Pantalone showing such open, almost improper affections to a lady of unknown background whom they see for the first time and judge accordingly. There is despair and frustration in their eyes - they wanted Pantalone for themselves.

Pantalone clears his throat, witnessing the gazes around him and speaks with assertiveness:

“Everyone should continue dancing.”

Receiving his persuasive request, the other guests keep on engaging in their dances, only paying slight remarks to the couple before them.

“That was rather rushed or improper at least, don’t you think?”

“I disagree.”

Pantalone then turns to you, his hand once again on your body, this time more gentle however as the vibe of the music changes too.

“You know, frankly speaking a couple of women sook my affections today.”

Your eyes widen, lips curved into an awkward smile. 

“And what did you say?”

“Well”, he chuckled under his breath, still enjoying your aftertaste on his lips. “That I politely decline.”

[friendly-neighborhood-boricua]

[4] Liam and James Make You A Birthday Gift

Summary: Inspired by his birthday party at school, Liam goes to James for help with your birthday present.

Notes: Marauders modern elementary school AU, kindergarten teacher!James Potter x nurse!reader, mom!reader x son!OC (Liam). Sorta weirdly angsty? Idk how that happened. Vague mention of parental death, grieving.

A/N (27/6/24): Guys just don't believe me when I say I'll update regularly lmao it's never gonna happen. Tried to upload this last night but I literally fell asleep lmao so this is semi edited

Previous Part: Career Fair Next Part: James Takes Liam to School Series Masterlist here

Look.

We all know that James is the best kindergarten teacher at his school.

His students’ test scores always improve through the year

Their standardized test results are exactly where they should be for the grade level, if not higher

And the kids themselves love him

But in order to keep his kids happy and engaged and eager to learn, he sometimes has to … shall we say bend the rules …

Just a teensy weensy bit

A little bit

A tiiiiiiny bit

At the beginning of the year, James told the class that if they were well-behaved by the time that each of their birthdays came around, he would throw a small birthday party for each of them

And let me tell you

The kids were thrilled

James quickly set a few ground rules for the kids (because the admin at his school is stupid and ScHOoL pArTiEs cAnT bE hELd wiThOUt adMiNiStrATivE pErMiSSiOn so he had to be kinda careful)

NUMBER ONE (more for him than them)

James checked each of his students’ allergy records in the school database to figure out what treats he could bring to school 

You know, without sending anyone into anaphylactic shock and probably getting sued in the process

and NUMBER TWO

Everyone must thank Mr. Black at the front desk on the day of each party

(Sirius would help James smuggle treats into his room for these parties, so James figured it’d be nice to have them say thank you)

Honestly, James enjoyed these parties just as much as the kids

Even the planning part was fun for him

About a week before a kid’s birthday, he’d ask them what treat they wanted for their party

Some kids *cough* draco *cough* want a bunch of super-sugary Halloween-type candy

(James gets them reduced sugar and sugar-free knock-off brands for Draco's birthday because he doesn’t think he can handle nineteen sugar-high kids all at once)

Others want to have a pizza party or order from a nearby restaurant

Sweet little Dean just wanted Fig Newtons lmaooo

(James bought an extra pack for her to take home)

But each and every time, no matter what they want, James makes it happen

Liam’s birthday is on January 2nd, which is over winter break

Which is a shame because James was really excited to celebrate it on the day of

Usually with kids who have birthdays in the summer, he celebrates their half-birthday

But that won’t work for Liam obviously bc his half-birthday is in the summer

So James just decides to celebrate Liam’s birthday when they get back from winter break

Before winter break, however, James asks Liam what treat he wants for his party

And Liam

Sweet summer child

Liam says he’d really like some home-made oatmeal raisin cookies

Like

What.

What the fuck kind of answer is that??

For a sIX YEAR OLD

WHAT.

This fucking child is somehow like ninety years old and six at the same fucking time

James’ utter bafflement must have been visible on his face because Liam explains himself pretty quick

And James’ heart breaks when Liam tells him that his grandma died when he was really young but his mom tells him all the time that her mom’s oatmeal raisin cookies were the best thing ever

Apparently every time you try to recreate them for Liam, some disaster happens and you’re unable to finish 

(i.e. you’re called into work and have to take the cookies out of the oven half-baked so the house doesn’t burn down, you and Liam take a nap while the cookies are baking and almost actually burn the house down, Liam accidentally gave you the salt rather than the sugar, etc.)

And Liam just really wants to try good oatmeal raisin cookies

He’s had them from a box from the grocery store before, and they’re not bad (it kinda surprises James that he liked them at all, but then he remembers who exactly he’s talking to lol), but Liam wants to try some good home-made oatmeal raisin cookies

And maybe bring one home for his mom

And FURTHERMORE, Liam is plenty aware that no child in a million years besides him actually enjoys oatmeal raisin cookies

So he asks for chocolate chip for the rest of the class so they get something they’ll actually enjoy

James is just kinda speechless at first

Like you can hear him just blinking down at this sweet, kind, selfless little six-year-old

And slowly he nods, and the bell rings to signify the end of the day (and semester since it’s the last day of school before winter break)

Poor James is practically catatonic as he gets his kids on their busses and in cars home, then packs his own things and finally makes his way to the library to get Remus and Sirius

And they both know something’s up immediately

After some gentle prodding (and Sirius outright refusing to leave the school library until James tells them what was wrong), James tells them what happened

(Remus and Sirius aren’t quite sure what the big deal is until James explains further)

James’ parents died during his second year at university, and he was horribly torn up about it for years after

Still is, sometimes

He was always terribly close with his parents, and they would always do anything—anything—for their James

(Including practically adopt Sirius during high school)

And now, thinking about Liam’s grandmother dying when he was young, all James could think about was you

James couldn’t imagine you’re any older than him, and he’s twenty-four, which means you had Liam young

And if Liam’s grandmother—your mother—had died when Liam was young, that meant you were left to take care of a baby all on your own at—what, twenty years old? Nineteen? All while going to university to become a nurse, and then actually becoming a nurse after that, long shifts and heavy workloads and all

The thought made James’ heart ache terribly in his chest

That night, James spends nearly two hours searching for different oatmeal raisin cookie recipes

He plans to do trials 

A competition of sorts with Sirius and Remus serving as judges

Because James is DETERMINED to bake the best homemade oatmeal raisin cookie Liam will ever have

(He’s sort of nervous for you to eat one, but he figures even if it isn’t as good as your mother’s, it hopefully won’t be awful)

James, Sirius, and Remus’ holiday celebrations only really extend to sleeping over on Christmas Eve at Remus’ mother’s house, which is only a couple blocks away

So James spends every day of winter break baking a new cookie recipe and shoving cookies down Remus’ and Sirius’ throats

But by the beginning of second semester, James has crafted the perfect oatmeal raisin cookie recipe

(It was rather simple, actually, and the “secret ingredient” was more of a secret process than anything; James used only brown sugar rather than a mix of brown and granulated, added some cinnamon, and put the balls of dough in the freezer for twenty minutes before baking so they would be nice and chewy)

James decides to hold Liam’s party at the end of the first week back at school

(Just to make sure the kids know they’ve got to go back to learning)

And Liam’s party goes swimmingly!! (ofc)

James brought chocolate chips, as promised

But he was terribly proud of his oatmeal raisin cookies, so he brought enough for the whole class as well

And holy shit

James never thought it could be done

But EVERY SINGLE KID in that classroom was eating oatmeal raisin cookies like there was no tomorrow

Like

James tried to make sure there was a cookie left at the end for Liam to take home to you

But he couldn’t keep them out of these kids’ grubby little paws and they ended up eating them all :(((((((((

James is really sad when he notices

He hadn’t quite realized just how much he wanted you to try his cookies but now he’s really disappointed

And poor Liam :((((((

Poor baby Liam is also pretty put out by it, James can tell

James apologizes to Liam about it

Liam says it’s fine, but James sees right through it

He gives Liam a big hug at the end of the day as well as another apology

(And a lollipop, but secretly so the other kids don’t ask for one too)

A month passes, and everything’s pretty normal

Until one weekend in early February, James hears knocking on his apartment door

He’d been grading, and Remus and Sirius were over to hang about and chat

James wasn’t expecting anyone else to arrive so he’s pretty confused

But he answers anyway

(Let's be honest here people, James would be the first to be killed in a horror movie)

Thankfully Jason doesn’t murder James on his doorstep

Instead (and very surprisingly) it’s Liam who’s standing anxiously at James’ front door

Immediately, James thinks the worst

Did something happen to Liam? Are you home? Did something happen to you?

James is immediately crouched in front of Liam, eye level, asking him what he needs

And Liam anxiously stutters out that he needs help

With what? you may ask

Well, my dear reader

Liam needs help making homemade oatmeal raisin cookies

For his mom

For her birthday

LIAM ISTG—ASDKFJHLWN

YOUR SON IS SUCH A SWEETHEART

AND JAMES CANNOT GET OVER IT

(He’s also super relieved bc he was real scared for a second that something terrible had happened)

So Liam and James and Remus and Sirius (who Liam knows as Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black from school) all get to work making homemade oatmeal raisin cookies for you for your birthday

Liam explains that you’re working a twelve-hour shift and a couple hours of overtime on top of that, so you set him up with Ms. Hope (Remus’ mom, who watches him often)

Apparently Liam asked her if he could go to James’ apartment to ask if he could bake oatmeal raisin cookies for his mom, and Ms. Hope said yes

(Remus quickly calls his mother to reassure her that Liam arrived safe and sound and is currently baking with them, just so she doesn’t worry herself)

Liam also informs James, Remus, and Sirius that he’s supposed to be staying at Ms. Hope’s house until tomorrow morning, when you’ll pick him up

Ms. Hope insisted that you leave Liam with her and not worry about him, if just for the night

The four boys have a blast for the next three hours or so, baking far too many batches of cookies and then finding a nice gift bag to put them in

James also gets some stray craft supplies (he keeps it around in case he runs out at school) and everyone makes their own birthday cards for you

Harry goes back to Ms. Hope’s just in time for dinner, which James, Sirius, and Remus join them for, much to Ms. Hope’s excitement

The evening is just terribly fun for all of them

Fast forward to the next day and you’re rushing to look semi-presentable to go get Liam from Ms. Hope’s house

The doorbell rings, and you’re cursing internally because you’re already fifteen minutes late

You got home so late at night that it was actually early in the morning, and you’d overslept

And now there’s another thing to deal with at the door

James’ eyebrows raise slightly at the force with which you wrench open the door, and he’s a little concerned that you’ll be displeased at what he’s done

But you realize who it is (Liam) and who he’s with (James) and all the tension in your shoulders melts back

Liam is immediately all over you, wishing you a happy birthday with a big hug and a wet kiss to your cheek and resting his head on your shoulder when you pick him up

You’re completely thrilled to see him

(If immensely confused about why your son's teacher is also on your doorstep with a rather large gift bag)

James smiles sheepishly, but he’s reassured by your smile as you say good morning

So he explains the whoooooole story with you pitching in here and there

Until finally he gets to the fact that he and Liam (and Remus and Sirius ofc) have made you oatmeal raisin cookies

At this point, James is pretty certain that you can’t do much to endear him further to you

But you’ve got the most lovely way of proving him wrong when he begins to think like that because the way your eyes light up at the mention of oatmeal raisin cookies makes James want to keep repeating the words over and over so the look never fades from your face

He hands over the gift bag (with another small explanation about the two extra cards and who exactly Sirius and Remus are), wishes you a happy birthday, and politely excuses himself

As much as James loves to be around you and Liam, he knows his place

At the end of the day, he’s still Liam’s kindergarten teacher, and Liam is still your son

So he leaves you and Liam to celebrate your birthday between the two of you

When he gets back to his flat and locks the door behind him, James feels a strange sort of ache settle over his shoulders and seep deep into the cavity of his chest. He swallows around the strange feeling in his throat and takes a deep breath. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. 

Next Part: James Takes Liam to School

[kiragecko]

A few weeks ago, I flew to visit my grandma with my little brother and sister. My little brother had never been on a plane, and my sister only has once, almost a decade ago. It was an experience.

All three of us are in our 30s and neurodivergent¹. My little brother has Down’s Syndrome² and is probably autistic. He communicates mostly through echolalia³.

I suspected there might be challenges, so I tried to contact the airline before purchasing tickets. This did NOT work. The Westjet agents weren’t allowed to discuss anything with me until I had booked a flight. I was purchasing nonrefundable tickets. The website was quite clear that they could kick us from the plane if they couldn’t support our needs. And they wouldn’t tell me if they could support our needs!

I ended up calling around 8 times. Finally, after purchasing tickets and jumping through all the hoops, someone was willing to talk. They mostly said that everything was up to the people letting us on to the flight, but at least they talked to me!

My main concern was the pacing. My brother’s favourite activity is pacing in circles and repeating movie/song quotes to himself. Once we got on the plane things would be fine (we had movies for him to watch), but I was concerned that other passengers waiting to board would find this stressful. Like - that isn’t our problem, it’s their’s - but flying is hard! If there was a way for us to not add more stress, I wanted to find it!

The airline was zero help, so we did our best to prepare on our own. My uncle died the day before the trip, and that increased stress levels. My autistic sister was dealing with that, a sense of responsibility for my brother, and also anxiety about a mostly-new experience (flying).

-

And then the plane gets delayed.

By an hour, at first.

The airline said we should be there TWO HOURS early for domestic flights. Which is ridiculous. TWO HOURS??? Especially since everything before security can now be done online? But we obediently turn up two hours before the new flight time, and are immediately directed to the priority security line. Which is good. Even the short line is boring for my brother, and I can’t let him pace in the few open spaces. But ten minutes later we’re at our gate, ready to leave.

Now we just have to wait for an hour and fifty minutes!

We had hoped my brother would want to watch his first movie. But he's riled up from lines and crowds and gets right to pacing. A few people have to slow down as they pass, but he’s not hurting anyone, so I let him be.

I’m more worried about my sister, now. She lives with the aunt that found my uncle. She hasn’t slept in days, worrying about the trip. She isn’t handling the noise and crowds. So I keep an eye on my brother (at least 50% to make sure he doesn’t take some of the chocolate he keeps eyeing when he passes the gift shop), occasionally ask if he wants to watch a movie, and watch my sister slowly descend into a panic attack. Not fun. Eventually I send her to the bathroom, hoping that it will be quieter and she can calm down.

BUT! Events have happened during this time! The plane has been delayed another 15 minutes! It is explained that they have had to replace the plane with one they haven’t yet finished retrofitting. This new plane doesn’t have as much overhead baggage space. They need at least 15 pieces of carry-on luggage to be checked. If the passangers aren’t willing to do this, there will be large delays once loading starts, as people are FORCED to check their luggage. Also, there’s no first class on the new plane. Or charging ports. Or meals. Or in-flight entertainment. First class passengers can request some money back. And if anyone misses their connecting flight due to the delays, tickets to their new flights will be provided upon landing.

People start to get tired and stressed. The intercom keeps threatening them. Now it’s 30 bags that need to be checked. Delays will be even longer if this doesn’t happen!

At this point, security shows up. They ask if anyone will take responsibility for the pacing guy. I do. They show visible discomfort with the situation, and his disability. Can I make him stop pacing? I can try, but probably not. Please do that, it is bothering the other passengers. Oh? Really?? Who could have guessed that?!

My brother is NOT willing to sit down. We stand in the concourse, while I talk to him about sitting down and he makes annoyed sounds at me. I’m not about to force him. I don’t want us to get kicked out of the airport, but can they do that for something as minor as acting weird in public? Mostly, I’m worried about all our electronics, which I abandoned in the open when security showed up. I’m not sure if security will try something with my brother if I leave him to pace while I clean things up.

And now, the hero shows up. The head of security has been called, and he comes over and asks me if there’s anything my brother needs. No, there isn’t, he’s quite happy to pace. It’s everyone else that is being bothered.

“I don’t care about them. He has just as much right to this space as they do. I just want to make sure you guys have everything you need. Would he like a sensory package?”

He wouldn’t like a sensory package, but this guy’s offer of the chapel as a quiet space IS interesting. Mostly because my sister is off in sensory shut-down somewhere, and needs a quiet space. But also because I could relax a little nobody would be watching us, and I could relax if my brother had an enclosed room to pace in. (No chocolates!)

As I’m agreeing to this, my sister returns. Head of Security respectfully tries to explain the situation to her. I look at her hunched body language and tell him to just talk to me. Then I send her to pack up our stuff. He wants to Include Her. She really, really does not want to be included.

He also wants to Include my brother. It’s kind of cute. He’s overflowing with good intentions, but obviously hasn’t had a lot of chance to put them into practice yet. He’s incredibly respectful, but in ways that would work a bit better for people who are more interested in their own decision making than my brother. I’m charmed.

Another person shows up. She is introduced as the Accessibility Specialist, and we are asked if we’re okay with her support. Oh yes, I am very okay with this. After she gets caught up - and she reiterates that everyone else can suck it, my brother is allowed to inhabit this space how he wishes - we get ready to head for the chapel. But the plane is about to land. There probably isn’t enough time to transition there and then back. So instead, we all wait around and listen to our two heroes conspire.

Accessibility Specialist has had the job for a month. Or, at least, she's been PAID to do this job for a month. She's been doing it unofficially much longer. She has IDEAS. So that’s where all the unpolished We Respect Everyone energy is coming from. Head of Security is one of her co-conspirators!

In-between plotting, Accessibility Specialist asks me questions. She hears about the amount of phonecalls, and the unsatisfactory answers. The complete lack of support. The fact that I had told the airline that this exact situation was likely to happen, and then got security called on us anyways. She tells me that this information is very helpful. Her plans will benefit from specific examples.

She tells me how unsatisfactory it is to have to send people to the chapel. They're pushing for a quiet room. I agree that this would have been helpful. My brother would probably have been calmer in a quiet space, which would have helped us AND reduced the stress for others. (Also, both me and my sister would have benefited from the quiet. But I didn’t say that.)

In all the commotion, I’ve forgotten to talk to the boarding people about priority boarding. But Accessibility Specialist is on the ball! We stand off to the side, behind a rope, while the plane disembarks. (My brother starts off pacing RIGHT in the way of the disembarkment, so sneaking into the roped off area is a good idea.) We’re going to be the very first ones to board, even before the people in wheelchairs. I pray that my brother is willing to walk onto the plane – he hasn’t been willing to follow me since we got out of security.

The boarding people are on their best behaviour. They make a special trip over to us to scan our tickets. They send someone down the ramp to check on the plane’s status. We are now VIPs. And we seem to have made the Accessibility Specialist’s day. She is so SMUG as she whispers with the Head of Security!

They ask if we’re okay with them accompanying us to the plane. Sure! I’m having a great time watching their excitement. It’s changed a very difficult experience into a pleasurable one. (For me. They are thankfully respecting my sister’s desire to be ignored. She is still not having fun. And my brother is pretty done with this experience. He’s found some quotes about ‘going home’ and ‘not doing this’ to share with me.)

Finally, we get the nod. My brother calmly follows us down the ramp. We get to the plane and are asked to pause for a moment while they finish moving some storage carts around. Seems reasonable to me, but Accessibility Specialist darts forward and takes photos, documenting SOMETHING. And then we get on the plane.

-

The plane itself would have been great. My brother happily took a seat. Enjoyed looking out the windows. And was excited to watch Shrek. My sister relaxed. And I LOVE flying. But, sadly, electronics must be stowed during liftoff and landing. My brother did NOT take these unreasonable demands from me well. He eventually forgave me for the take-off misdemeanor, especially after I put on my own headphones and quoted the movie with him. But my sins at landing were too much. For half an hour after he left the airport, he kept repeating, “NO more flying!” and “Not like this!” Any comments about flying for the next day got his hackles up.

So, I won’t do that to him again. But it was a very interesting experience for me! I am glad I got to have it.

And if anyone has flown through Winnipeg’s Richardson International Airport⁴ in the last while, and wants to tell them about any good or bad accessibility experiences, I think there’s someone there that would appreciate it. I want to see what she can accomplish.

-

PS. She’s also started a program where you can practice getting ready to board a plane! You sign up and they take you through the whole experience, from signing in to walking the boarding ramp. (Or, possibily, just whichever portion is concerning you.) I wish I had thought to contact the airport itself, rather than just contacting the airline and looking at the government’s resources. Good things are happening there.

-

¹ neurodivergent – brain works in a non-typical way

² Down’s Syndrome – an intellectual disability

³ echolalia – communication by repeating/echoing things heard, either right after hearing them, or a long time later

⁴ Winnipeg is in Manitoba, Canada

[antebunny]

Babysitter from Hell

Jason changes his mind on never associating with any of the Bats ever again because of one Stephanie Brown. She had absolutely no intention of changing his mind about anything, she just showed up and started talking until Jason begrudgingly accepted his fate as the “I’ll kill for you” member of a “live for me” family. 

(That’s a lie. He’s gotten over 10% of anything that’s ever happened to him in his eventful albeit painfully short life. But he’s working on it, okay?)  

Before Jason knew any better, Steph reminded him of Dick. A cheerful, upbeat personality, a flagrant and equally cheerful disregard for Batman’s orders, an overconsumption of sugary breakfast items, a love for bright colors, and an annoying distaste for brutality, considering both are (technically) violent criminals. 

Really, the main difference he saw was that Steph fucking hates his guts. 

Jason is still sure that Dick will, eventually, after Titan’s Tower. He put his plan to give his Replacement a beat-down on hold after the Bats discovered his identity. It’s hard to maintain his level of hatred for the Bats when they keep soft-speaking at him like he’s some sort of victim they’re rescuing. That’s also why he keeps avoiding Dick. The guy treats all of Jason’s threats against the Replacement like one big joke. Who would’ve thought that the “getting pissed on the Replacement’s behalf” job would fall to his ex-girlfriend?

In summary, Jason thought Steph was a purple-clad, blond-haired female version of Dick with no emotional attachment to the second Robin, and a personal relationship with the third Robin. An enemy, in other words. Someone with every reason to be ideologically opposed to Jason for the rest of time. 

Still, she’s a kid. Jason has promised himself to be nice to all vigilantes, no matter how sanctimonious or annoying, so long as they’re only fifteen years old. So when he finds her perched on a rooftop corner, doing recon on a case that he is working on, he mutters a curse to himself and doubles back to find a good spot to grapple to her rooftop without anyone noticing. He doesn’t want to get in a fight with a kid, but he doesn’t want anyone to think they’re on friendly terms, either. Better that no one knows.

Spoiler notices him coming at the last second and rolls to her feet. Too late if he was actually trying to kill her, and she’s also giving up her position. How sloppy. Jason can’t believe Batman’s letting her out like this. 

“Go run home to daddy,” he growls. “Before I make you.”

That should be enough. Jason has a gun. (A lot of them). She can’t have more than two years of training. She clearly has been instructed not to engage with him, if the way she quietly mutters O, it’s Hood, yes I’m leaving immediately pinky promise means anything. Which is why Jason is utterly floored when she snaps back at him.

“My dad’s in jail, where he belongs,” Spoiler retorts.

“What.”

That’s all Jason can manage when Jason_Todd.exe stops functioning. Several rebooting attempts fail as they run into Bruce is in jail??? then no, obviously not Bruce then I don’t even care if Bruce is in jail then who is Spoiler, anyway? If Jason casts his mind back to who he thought Spoiler was before all this happened, he would’ve said roughly middle class, most likely orphaned, and probably had a parent that was the head of Gotham’s social services before being brutally murdered by some Rogue who hated anyone being nice to orphans. It would’ve been on par for the course, at least. Bruce’s parents were good up until they were good and dead. Same with Dick. Barbara’s dad, despite being the chief of police, was somehow the one non-corrupt cop in all of Gotham. Jason was the only unlucky one.

Or so he thought.

“So unless you’re gonna put me in jail,” Spoiler prompts. “Which would be pretty hypocritical of you, considering–”

“What the fuck is he locked up for?”

Okay, he could’ve said that nicer. And he said he would be nice to kids. But consider: Jason is just not very good at keeping his promises.

Spoiler stares at him blankly in a way only someone wearing white-out lenses and a lower face mask can. “For…being a knockoff Riddler? Ever heard of Cluemaster? I guess it’s understandable for your average citizen to not but like, this is your job, dude. How can you not–”

“Cluemaster?” Jason interrupts again, even harsher than before. He vaguely recognizes the name from the long list of minor villains that came and went while Jason was away. “Arthur Brown?”

“Yep!” Spoiler springs forward and extends a hand. Belatedly he realizes that he hasn’t lowered his gun. “Stephanie Brown, nice ta meet ‘cha!”

And that’s how Jason learns Steph’s name. 

Jason finally does lower the gun, only so that he can bat her hand away and look frantically around the rooftop for anyone who might’ve overheard. “You can’t just tell me your secret identity!” He shouts, careful to not repeat her name even when he’s losing control over his volume. “That–what the fuck! That’s Vigilantism 101!” 

Spoiler–Stephanie–picks up his hand and shakes it vigorously.

“What the fuck,” Jason repeats blankly while his hand–or more accurately, blood-stained glove–is shaken by an overeager fifteen-year-old idiot. “What the fuck. I’m a–a Rogue. I’m your enemy. How the fuck did B let you out in a mask.”

“Okay, first of all, B didn’t let me do anything,” Stephanie corrects, affronted about all the wrong things. “I was the one running around trying to stop my dad’s–Cluemaster, in case you already forgot–plans. Second of all, I know who you are, I’m not an idiot. B got a hell of a lecture on how it’s very not pogchamp to keep important secrets from us. I wouldn’t just tell anyone. Third, I thought you already knew? Aren’t you obsessed with Robin? How come you didn’t already know?”

Jason steps away from her, mind reeling with memories of two-bit criminal Willis Todd and his reign of terror in that shitty, one-bedroom apartment deep in Park Row. He would bet his (second) life that long before Arthur Brown took to the streets, he took whatever it is that’s so fucked up inside him out on those closest to him. His family, the people that needed and trusted him the most, the people that could not just walk away. 

How many times has Jason thought of Willis Todd and burned with resentment whenever the Bats preached about all criminals getting second chances? They wouldn’t get it, he’d told himself; a hollow comfort, clearly, when Stephanie is standing right in front of him, as bright and cheerful as ever, happy to be working with the Bats even while she spits on her father’s memory. 

(Not memory. His name. He’s alive, albeit rotting in prison. Just one more abuser that Batman refused to kill for someone he l–someone under his protection). 

“I know now,” Jason drawls. “Should’ve listened to their lectures on secret identities. Now leave, little girl.”

And maybe it’s the insult, or O (whoever that is, because Jason does not, in fact, know) telling her to go, but Spoiler gives him one more affronted look and leaves.

It’s not the last he hears of Spoiler, of course. Though someone clearly gives her the mother of all lectures afterwards, because she avoids him for a couple weeks. That gives him the time to do his own research. 

Stephanie Brown lives in the Narrows with her mother, a mere hop and skip from where Jason grew up. She went to public school up until last academic year, whereupon she got a scholarship from Wayne Foundation. She attends Gotham Academy, like the Replacement, like Barbara, like Dick (like Jason before that too was stolen from him).

She’s surprisingly similar to Jason. (He swears he’s not just drawing comparison for his own ego). Her mother is still alive, so she received a scholarship instead of being adopted by Bruce. But both fathers were a joke to the very idea of fatherhood. (Both mothers failed to protect them from the father). Both grew up in poor, dangerous neighborhoods with violent, criminal fathers. 

The thing is–and Jason surprises himself with the revelation–he wants to mentor her. Jason is very sure that he understands, better than any of the Bats, what she has gone through. The same soft streak which hates to see kids on the streets wants to take her under his wing.

I don’t understand, Little Wing. What did he do to you?

It’s impossible for so many reasons that it doesn’t bother stating. Jason isn’t a Bat (anymore), and the lack of trust is mutual even if the hate is not. Really, the most important reason should be the fact that Steph hates his guts, except–

“And I know he means well, but he’s just so…overbearing sometimes, y’know?”

Jason slaps another pancake down on her plate. “Tell me ‘bout it.”

They’re a farce, the two of them. Eating pancakes at midnight on the only clean kitchen counter (the other is littered with disassembled guns) while Jason is half-dressed in military-grade gear. Steph, meanwhile, speaks with her mouth stuffed full. Maple syrup drips onto her fluffy white crop top (Jason didn’t know they made fluffy crop tops), and she brushes crumbs off her purple sweatpants. 

It feels like a joke. The remorseless murderer, glowering at his mixing bowl and the teenage vigilante, resembling nothing so much as a chipmunk. (It feels a bit like having a family again).

“Like, it’s like he’s showing off how many friends he has,” Steph continues, oblivious to Jason’s inner monologue. “Which I know he’s not, but seriously. He’s been doing this so much longer than any of us, and then he gets so excited by someone new and tries to introduce them to everyone and it’s like–he’s friends with Starfire, and all the original Titans, and half the Justice League and half of Gotham’s Rogue gallery, and goddamn Superman. And he has B wrapped around his little finger and doesn’t even know it!”

Jason’s pancake suddenly tastes bland and weirdly mushy. “Yeah. Sucks ass but kinda funny.”

Somehow Jason’s attempts to look after Steph on patrol, to make sure she isn’t too injured, turned into this. Steph bursts into one of his apartments of safehouses at random hours of the day, raids his pantry, and complains a mile a minutes about anyone and everything.

“You gonna answers his calls?” Steph side-eyes him. “I know he keeps getting your number somehow and you know he really misses you.”

Which is not to say that all Steph does is complain and talk about herself. She’s all too happy to prod Jason about his (nonexistent) personal life.

“No,” Jason answers shortly, and throws another pancake on her plate. “Eat or get out.”

Steph shrugs and attacks her new pancake with gusto. She doesn’t push or pry, unlike some people Jason could mention, though she always asks. A Bat who is capable of just letting it go. Jason thought he’d never see the day.

If Jason were an “asks question” type of person instead of a “bottle everything up until you choke on it” kind of person, maybe he’d ask about her father. About what really happened with Black Mask, not just what news reports speculate. (Ask how she can stand to love the Bats when they’ve failed her so terribly, when her abuser draws breath, when her murderer walks free, when the Bats sleep easily knowing both of those facts and have no intention of changing either fact even though they claim to l–)

Jason isn’t an “asks question” type of person.

“Hey, can I bring Tim next time?” Steph asks, just shy of casual. “He’d–”

The wooden mixing spoon cracks in Jason’s hand. “Unless you wanna get him a couple’a broken bones,” he says evenly, “I’d suggest keepin’ that little parasite far away from me.”

Steph scowls, suddenly remembering that she doesn’t like Jason. “I don’t get why you hate him.”

Why wouldn’t he. The Replacement represents everything Jason loathes. It’s almost too perfect, how hateable he is.

“I don’t get how you dated him,” Jason retorts, which is maybe a little beneath him. Whatever. 

“Oh, we are not talking about my dating history,” Steph hisses. She shoves her stool back as she stands, fork clattering to the counter. “Bros before hoes. You’re the hoe. Tim’s my bro.” 

Jason is trying to decide whether or not to take offense while she produces a takeout box out of nowhere. For her next trick, she disappears all the remaining pancakes on her plate into the box, seals it smartly, and disappears the box. 

“Thanks for the food. Asshole.” Steph scowls, upset at her own manners and upset at Jason for not simpering for the little leech who wormed himself into Jason’s f–the group of people Jason would’ve once called family. 

Jason is no expert, but when someone makes pancakes for you at midnight, it’s an act of love. Or something. He could never say it out loud, but Steph gets it. She knows what going on here, beneath Jason’s harsh words (and threats, and firearms, and–you get the point). 

It almost feels like having a little sister, or a weird little cousin. Steph isn’t remotely scared of him. She inexplicably wants to spend time with Jason, as rough and unpleasant as he is. Jason doesn’t believe for one second that the other Bats don’t know about her visits, so somehow, they’re fine with it too. The only thing chasing Steph away and flaring Jason’s temper, is, once again, the fucking Replacement.

The next Bat to successfully land a standing invitation to Jason’s (nonexistent) dinner table is also one of the first. Barbara Gordon rolls up to his doorstep one night, armed only with whatever rocket launchers she has installed in her wheelchair (which probably doesn’t sound like “only” to anyone but Jason). The arched frown she levels at him from over her glasses is so familiar, so lovingly judgemental, that Jason tears up a little.

He slams his front door closed and starts dumping his gear, back to Barbara, so he can hide his face until the wetness around his eyes goes away. When he turns around, Barbara is a little closer and a little further to his left, by the kitchen counter stools.

“Hey Babs,” says Jason, at a loss for what else to do. “What the fuck happen’a you?”

“Nice to see you too, Jason,” Barbara replies dryly. “Or should I say long time no see. Since it’s been years.”

Jason meanders toward the kitchen counter, noting a few new visible scars on Barbara’s face and arms. When she leverages herself out of her wheelchair and into one of the kitchen chairs, he realizes just how much taller than her he is now. In his last vivid memory of her, he looks up to her free-flowing red hair, her smirk. Now he cants his chin, staring her down as she laces her fingers together and raises an extremely judgemental eyebrow.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were alive,” Barbara demands. 

Jason shrugs. “Well, I wasn’t. ‘N’ then I was and you didn’t care, so.”

Barbara scowls, an action so perfectly familiar that Jason tears up again. What is up with him tonight? Just seeing someone that he knew years ago is enough to make him lose it. Jason busies himself with the cupboards, once again hiding his face from her.

“That’s not even remotely funny, Jason.” 

Somewhere underneath the lecturing is genuine hurt. Shame she can’t admit to it, maybe then their conversation would be easier to swallow. (Shame Jason can’t, either).

“How would you feel if you grieved someone you cared about only to find out years later that they were alive and never bothered to tell you? I don’t think I’ve seen Dick smile once since w–”

Jason slams a half-drunk can of soda down on the counter. He’d meant to find something better in the fridge, but right now he can’t even remember taking anything from it. 

“‘Course this is about fucking Dick.” Jason loses sight of Barbara’s scowl as his vision swims in radioactive green. “You never gave a damn ab–”

“Just because I love him doesn’t mean I don’t care about you!” 

Barbara’s interruption is the sort of truth that couldn’t be tortured out of Jason. Despite everything, he smiles. Just a quick tug at the right corner of his mouth, but a smile nonetheless.

“You tell him that?”

“Shut up.” At least Barbara sounds exasperated, not mad. “His ego’s big enough as it is. Don’t try and change the subject. I don’t get what sort of game you’re playing, letting Steph stay over while running Dick and Bruce and ragged, and avoiding me and Alfred, and threatening Ti–”

Just half-mentioning the Replacement’s name floods Jason’s head with violent green rage. The can of soda crumples in his hands. Whatever soda was left spurts onto the marble countertop, fizzing sadly. 

“How can you even pretend to care,” Jason challenges, “when the Joker is still alive?”

When Jason’s vision clears fully, Barbara is watching him knowingly from across the counter, over the plastic frame of her glasses. It’s almost pitying, but Jason knows her just a little too well to believe that. 

“Why do you think,” Barbara asks, “I haven’t killed the Joker? For what he did to me. It wasn’t even about me. It was all about getting to Bruce.”

For the first time since Jason came back to Gotham, he falters. There’s so many right answers to that question, but none of them feel like Barbara’s answer. Life-changing injuries, for vigilantes, strip away their identity, their sense of worth. How do you remake yourself in the aftermath? How did Barbara do it without ever seeking revenge? Jason genuinely has no idea.

“You didn’t die,” Jason answers gruffly, feeling every ounce of asshole he is.

“There were times I wish he’d killed me,” Barbara counters calmly. 

Biting, helpless fear that Jason has not known since he saw his mom’s last needle billows in his lungs. Not Barbara Gordon. Never. She means too much to too many people. She’s survived too much to just give up.

“Fuck that.” Jason grabs two cans of soda from the fridge and slides one over the counter to her. “Don’t let that sack of shit win.”

Barbara cracks open her can, then lifts it to hide a tired smile. “You know that’d be what Bruce killing the Joker would do. Letting him win.”

“Fuck that.” Jason places both palms flat on the counter so he won’t spill this soda. He breathes deeply as the green surges. “They’re not fuckin’ comparable. What Joker’s done and just killing the Joker are not the same. That’s not sinkin’ to his level or whatever bullshit, that’s doing this damn city a favor.”

“Let me ask you a question.” Barbara rubs one hand underneath her glasses, scrubbing a loose eyelash off her face. “I’ll probably never fight again. There’ll be experimental technology holding together my spine for the rest of my life. Do you think he should kill the Joker for that?”

“I’d kill him for you,” Jason answers unthinkingly.

(The thought, if Jason had taken the time to think it, is this: Jason can never say I care about you out loud. Todd men love expressing love through acts of violence. Wayne men love unflinching righteousness and devastating justice. Jason is a little too much of both). It’s the truth, though. There aren’t many people he wouldn’t kill if they’d hurt someone he cares about and if said person would appreciate it. He has a short mental list of people to kill for Dick if he ever thinks it would make Dick feel safer and wouldn't make him feel guilty. He’ll kill all of them before returning a single one of Dick’s calls. 

“So. Yes.” Barbara taps a finger against her soda can. “So he should die for causing someone Bruce cares about severe injuries. Then he should kill his old friend Harvey Dent, for what he did to Dick. And Black Mask, for what he did to Steph.” Her gaze drops to the red bat defiantly splayed across Jason’s chest. “The Joker, for you. And then he’d kill you, for what you’re planning to do to Tim. And then himself, for killing you.”

He’d kill you for the Replacement. 

Time stands still in that little apartment. Gunpowder, Febreze and sticky sweetness emanates from the sweat-slick surfaces. Jason struggles to breathe, but for once, he doesn’t see green. For the first time, he regrets telling them his ruined plan to teach the Replacement a lesson. It made them change the security of Titan’s Tower, for starters. And it makes him sound like a monster. 

“It goes nowhere.” Barbara spreads her hands. “It never ends. Please, Jason. Stop hurting yourself. Stop hurting all of us.”

You know he really misses you.

Please, Little Wing. Come home.

Please, Jason. Stop hurting yourself.

Finally, Jason raises his soda can. “To not letting that sack of shit win.”

“To not letting that sack of shit win.” Barbara quirks a crooked smile and raises her own soda in reply.

They throw back their heads and start chugging in unison. Barbara immediately doubles forward, coughing and choking on soda. She slams the can down on the counter and wipes her mouth clean with the back of her free hand.

“Where’d you find this, the League of Assassins? This tastes like ass.”

“Fuck you! It’s a delicacy!”

So maybe Jason can accept his fate as the “I’d kill for you” member of a “live for me” family. It’s more bearable than the alternative: being alone while they worry over him from afar. He’ll even put his plans for the Replacement on indefinite hold.

Steph continues crashing his midnight angst sessions. Barbara adds him to the system she has set up and makes him swear to call for backup if he needs it. (He agrees, but need is a strong word). Jason doesn’t apologize for not telling them he was alive–he doesn’t know how–but he makes up for it by visiting Dick out in Blüdhaven. He even agrees to meet with Alfred in a popular cafe and returns with his head ringing and an armful of teas and snacks.

Best of all is the (unintentional) chokehold he has on Bruce. All he has to do his bat his eyelashes and say something wistful about never graduating high school and Bruce is falling over himself to make him fake identities. The others are all too willing to keep Bruce out of his business. It’s the perfect set up. Jason never would have guessed, when he first came back, that there was family–new family–waiting for him in Gotham. But between the comforting steadiness of Barbara, her willingness to ream him out, his begrudging fondness for his new hellion little sister, and his tumultuous relationship with a brother he loves, Jason thinks he just might stay. 

Sometimes Jason even thinks he might forgive Bruce for not killing the Joker. Maybe not soon, and not for many other flaws that Bruce has yet to sort out, but maybe. All his recent musing on Willis Todd and whether that man ever loved anyone has forced Jason to reconsider his stance on love as violence that he didn’t even know he had. 

Maybe he and this crazy family idea will be alright. Maybe he’ll forgive his dad. Forgiveness or lack thereof aside, they’ll always be some kind of father and son, for better or worse. 

But the one person who Jason will absolutely not forgive is the Replacement. 

Jason still has to deal with the Replacement occasionally. By ‘deal’ he means, of course, that he went to the Replacement’s ugly-ass manor house just to mess with him. Being on good-ish terms with Dick, Steph and Barbara doesn’t mean Jason can’t have some fun. He won’t go through with something like Titans’ Tower, not anymore, but he still can’t stand that arrogant, selfish, entitled little rich brat that wriggled his way into Jason’s family, alright? So he’s going to see for himself just how self-deluded that jumped-up Replacement of his is, sue him. 

No matter how entitled, the Replacement still has school. He goes to Gotham Academy, the school Jason died attending, and he’s in the grade Jason never got to finish. It’s not until about 4 pm that the Replacement actually gets home, so Jason shows up at 6 pm, expecting to find the Drakes having dinner. Instead, the parents are absent, and the Replacement is eating takeout in one of the many living rooms, while in the middle of a game of cards.

“Ooh! Burn a card! Burn a card!” The Replacement taunts his opponent, a girl Jason just barely recognizes as Bruce’s newest adopted kid. 

The girl–Cassandra, Jason thinks, though he hasn’t learned what her traumatic backstory is yet–scowls and slides a card from the bottom of her hand to the bottom of the pile on the rug.

“Your turn,” the Replacement adds.

Cass plays her top card without looking–an eight of spades–and Tim places a ten of diamonds. Then the game accelerates to a pace Jason struggles to understand. There’s a lot of slapping involved. Mostly it looks like they’re just playing cards one after another, until Cass slams her hand down on top of the pile.

“Wait, what?” The Replacement pushes her hand away and checks the top cards. A three of hearts and a three of spades. “Damn, you’re right. Double.”

This time Cass smirks as she scoops up the whole pile. Jason should probably stop spying from the doorway now. He only came to harrass the Replacement a little, not meet Bruce’s new kid. But then she turns her head and stares directly at him, so Jason shrugs mentally and saunters into the living room. He dumps his gun (one of them) on a comfy looking armchair as a sign of peace. 

“So. Bruce’s new kid, huh?”

Cass nods once.

Jason plonks himself down on the coffee table. Legs sprawled, his shoe almost touches their playing cards. He ignores the Replacement staring at him in something akin to awe. It’s in turns enraging, confusing and uncomfortable. 

“Lemme guess. Dad was an ax murderer, Mom died when you were young?” When Cass just stares at Jason blankly, the faintest hint of embarrassment creeps up on him. He tries again. “How’d you end up with this band of lunatics?”

Cass shrugs. She looks at the Replacement.

“Her bio dad is David Cain,” the Replacement explains, having the audacity to look something akin to sternly at Jason. “Her bio mom is Lady Shiva and she gave her away at birth, but after she escaped Cain–”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jason snaps, through the roaring green the Replacement’s stern look conjures. “What are you, her social worker? She can tell her own story.”

“Right,” says the Replacement, looking satisfyingly ashamed. “Yeah, of course.”

After a beat of silence, with both boys staring at her, Cass raises her hands. It takes Jason a beat too long to realize she’s explaining her story in ASL. Though explaining is a strong word. She makes the sign that Barbara came up with all those years ago, a combination of the sign for bird and the sign for bat, to mean broadly the Gotham vigilantes. Batman, Robin, all the bats and birds who call Gotham home and each other family. Then she makes the sign for good. 

Bats good, Cass says. Then she gives Jason this dead-eyed stare that feels like it’s poking around his soul and seeing all his cringe-fail moments, and asks: Why are you so–? But Jason doesn’t recognize the actual adjective. 

“She’s asking why you’re so angry,” the Replacement supplies, since he apparently knows more ASL than Jason does. A fact that Jason definitely does not care about at all. 

“I’m not angry,” Jason says, you know, like a liar.