#he's surprisingly good at math!
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tosahobi-if · 8 months ago
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Hi, sorry for asking but what are the six arts?
known as "liu yi" the six arts are essentially the basics of education within confucianism, and a young gentleman (junzi) with a proper upbringing was expected to have mastered or at least have some proficiency within them. the six arts were: rites, music, archery, equestrianism/chariotry, calligraphy, and mathematics.
jinwol isn't particularly good at music and equestrianism (he's tone-deaf and animals hate him) and while he is good at archery he has hang-ups about actually shooting living creatures. and that's it's mentioned that his brothers are considered to be overall better than him in the six arts!
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cmincorrrctquotes · 2 years ago
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*Reid and Morgan talking about Wii Tennis*
Morgan: I'm going to beat you next time.
Reid: I won. Twice.
Morgan: The first one was a tie!
Reid: And the second time?
Morgan: ...
Morgan: There were no witnesses to the second time.
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coyotenoses · 9 days ago
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babe would you still love me if i wanted to be a middle school math teacher
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fable-x4 · 6 months ago
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Doing this because it makes me happy •Ꮂ•. Im making it difficult on all of you though.
1 note- I'll go drink water
10 notes - I'll set alarms to actually care for myself
50 notes - set up a daily productivity system so I stop wasting my time doing nothing.
100 notes - ask my friends to help me buy a skirt
500 notes - get a bra & a whole bunch of other affirming clothing !!!
1k - tell my dad that my gf is also trans
2.5k - ask my dad to address me by my prefferred name & pronouns 1k went pretty poorly, so I dont feel super comfortable making an attempt on this.
5k - try to get therapy/psychologist
10k - girl mode at all times (start actively wearing makeup/clothing/doing voice training around people at all times)
50k - try for HRT (0% chance) (also no guarantee on this one)
Asfgg. It feels surprisingly good to have a bunch of strangers who want me to be happy
I have now set up alarms for eating, waking up, and hygene related stuff. I seriously doubt we get to 500, but this has made me significantly happier •Ꮂ•
Doing some math... 25 notes in 4 hours. 6.25 notes per hour. 8000 hours or 333 days until this hits 50k. Hrt in a year ig.
Um. Wow. Its been a day, and we're almost at 300. Everything 500 & below was supposed to be things I'd do with minimal intervention. But now, we're getting to the scarier stuff. I am very intimidated, but also excited
My gf really badly wanted to be here when I buy some of the clothing, so the skirt will be this week, the rest of the clothing will be when she comes back from vacation
Saying that you're force femming me is so not allowed. This is unfair. You have no right to make me feel the ways Im feelingggg. Stop making me happy.
Welp. I told him about my girlfriend. And things went about as poorly as expected. He said that Im parroting what other people think. Slowly taking little parts of them, and applying them to myself. Specifically, being trans. He didnt even leave it to maybes. He said with certainty that I was copying everyone else. I know 9 trans people total. Only 2 of them are my close friends. Everyone else, Im barely aquaintences with. I should have told him that regardless of whatever theories he has, this has boosted my confidence massively. Slightly less excited for 2.5k notes. At least everything after that is very positive. And at least this lets me talk about my girlfriend for ages. I dont have to say her deadname through gritted teeth. Oh context. He already knows Im trans but was ignoring it.
I GOT A SKIRT!!!!!
Thank all of you so much. At first when I got the skirt, I was pretty intimidated by the idea of showing my legs. I thought everyone will just see me as a man. But there's a degree of confidence you all have given me. Yeah. Im pretty. Yeah, Im beautiful even. Yeah. Its a friggin fantastic skirt. And anyone who thinks otherwise is dumb. Im happy, and thats what matters.
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blackmesa-researcher · 1 year ago
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He sings along with the music on the CD he had in that had musical soundtracks on it as he cleans his apartment, just really quite enjoying himself on his day off. He's just getting things he needs to do done and out of the way finally.
He looks outside though and opens his window to let in some fresh air. It was partly cloudy out and not very cold. Ash figured it would be the one of the last such days.
Then he continued to clean, singing rather passionately again, forgetting that his windows were open and people outside could hear him...Ash really did have a pleasant singing voice, it was like his father's...in more ways than one.
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aviatoons · 2 months ago
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For anyone curious (because I sure was), the exponential number there is:
Sixty quinquinquagintillion three hundred eighty-three quattuorquinquagintillion four hundred trequinquagintillion
That is certainly a number.
But of course I couldn’t stop there because it’s midnight and I’m a nerd. So I dug deeper.
Bill Cipher is said to be roughly 2 trillion years old.
Do you know how long it would take for him to see that number get to 8^187 if he managed to lower it by one every day?
Seventy-two novemquadragintillion three hundred seventy-seven octoquadragintillion three hundred sixty septenquadragintillion years.
I don’t even have an example to demonstrate the sheer scale of that number. I could tell you how many times over that would be of his entire lifespan, but the number would still be bigger than anything I knew there were names for. I could tell you how long it would take if he lowered it by a thousand, a billion, a quadrillion every day, and the number would barely change at all.
Getting off the train is out of the question considering how long it would take just to see that number move. Just for that exponent to go down by even one. And don’t get me started on getting that number even visible on his body.
The short answer is he’s never getting his door.
The long answer is his number is so unbearably large that it’s a wonder it even has a name. His number will outlive him, the train, and every force that brought him into existence, took him out of it, and put him onto that train. Every star Bill had ever seen in the sky will die and be reborn time and time again. Every planet, every galaxy, every universe, maybe even the entire multiverse itself will cease to exist.
The train will stop running. Its hull will rust and the track will erode away. Everyone who remembers it will die and not a trace that it ever existed will remain. Except for a single passenger in dead space with a glowing number on his hand.
And Bill’s number will decrease.
By one.
What if instead of the theraprism the axolotl put bill on the infinity train
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bbyobbyo · 8 months ago
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seventeen as dads headcanons
content: reader is married to svt, normative(?) family structure, literally just unhinged thoughts, not proofread lol
note: was trying to write an actual fic but then got distracted sorry, dadventeen brainrot is so real
Seungcheol
Super protective “don’t touch my family” dad outwardly
All of his kids’ friends are straight up SCARED of him
But within the household he's the one sneaking ice cream when you say no, albeit guiltily
Shopping trips with him will always result in buying something for them and he is very willing to be taken advantage of
“Babe if I can’t spoil them now, they’re gonna grow up and move out before we know it!”
Tries his best to be handy around the house, but probably makes it worse, ends up calling Mingyu to come fix it
Jeonghan
DEFINITELY a “go ask your mom” dad
This man not only powerless, he doesn't even want the power, he's just here to have a good time and if you say they can't, then sorry kiddo
You can’t tell me that he doesn’t bring up becoming a family prank channel at least once a week
LOVES bragging to everyone else about his kid’s achievements, cannot shut up about them to anyone in a 5 foot radius tbh
His kids definitely talk to him about everything, which is great because he is SO nosy.
Has a list of all their best friends, enemies, and crushes at school somewhere on his notes app for future reference when they come to him for advice
Joshua
The REAL practical joke dad, admittedly made them cry a few times when they were younger and felt really bad about it
Perfect sweet husband and father in image, all of his kids know he’s actually lame af
Dominates the summer barbeques, UNDISPUTED GRILLMASTER
Super dependable, will drop everything if his family needs him and never goes back on his word
Gives surprisingly good fashion advice
Jun
Definitely walks around the neighborhood with his baby in a sling carrier strapped to his front, POINTS AT EVERYTHING OF INTEREST
When they start learning how to speak he adopts all his baby’s weird mannerisms (it started off as a cute joke but then realized he couldn’t stop)
Cries at every baby milestone until they’re like 10
Will not stop bringing up embarrassing childhood moments, especially in front of their kids’ friends/significant others
Cuts fruit for them instead of apologizing
Hoshi
Will fully ally himself with his kids
Like legit would do anything for them. ANYTHING.
I’m talking borderline go to his kid's school to beat up their hypothetical bullies himself sort of dad
The kids can always count on him to say yes if you say no
Absolutely DEVASTATED when they grow out of the tiger stuff he buys for them and become angsty teens
“What do you mean tigers aren’t cool? Do you not love your old man anymore?”
Wonwoo
Quiet doting dad
Definitely more affectionate when the kids are younger but gets into the awkward advice-giving stage when they grow up
LAME DAD JOKES GALORE, groaning is a regular activity in this household
Tries to google basic algebra every time his kids ask for help on math homework because he doesn’t want to admit he forgot everything
Chaotic af unsupervised. “Guess we’re having pizza again tonight kiddos” kinda dad because he cannot and should not cook
Jihoon
Another quiet dad, but make it savage
I feel like he would just love roasting his kids (affectionately of course)
And always overwhelmingly acts of service so his kids know they are loved
Allowance randomly appearing under their pillow, their favorite foods magically stocked in the fridge, always relenting to one last bedtime story no matter how tired he is
Would let you have final say but he makes it really clear he’s on their side and empathizes with them but its out of his hands
“Next time just don’t get caught, okay?” *winks*
Minghao
Loves loves loves just spending time with his babies
Doesn’t matter what he’s doing he just wants to be in the same room as them or cuddling and holding them
Emphasizes equality in your relationship so his kids can grow up with those values and learn to respect others
TURNS EVERYTHING INTO A LIFE LESSON OH MY GOD
Doesn’t believe in allowances but will cave and literally buy them anything they want if they ask
Would rather die than miss any important event (competition, speech, recital, talent show, graduation, etc.)
Mingyu
Absolute super dad, what can’t he do? Nonstop home improvement projects, cooks anything his kids are craving, offers to drive everyone everywhere
But also the whiniest dad ever lol constantly complains about people “ruining his system”
Absolutely FUCKS at the school bake sales, earns them twice the target fundraiser amounts because he's dilf material and knows how to get the moms to spill their pockets
Likes to have the final say, but you’re both usually on the same page in regards to discipline so his kids aren’t getting away with anything
Just the most supportive dad in the universe, the kids learn to never take him for granted
Seokmin
You already know his kids are gonna be spoiled rotten. He will be the favorite parent by default sorry I don't make the rules!!
His arms are the very definition of a safe space
Leaves all the discipline to you because he cannot keep a straight face when delivering a lecture (one time he made them cry and also ended up crying because he felt so bad)
Does so much embarrassing shit just to cheer his kids up when they have a bad day, acts surprised when they tell him he's cringe
Such a pushover that they are probably gonna make fun of him when they're older, but that's okay because they know there's no universe in which their dad will stop loving them
Seungkwan
As long as he can pick them up still, his kids are never on the ground for too long
Two words: SPORTS. DAD.
He could practically captain the cheerleading teams at their school with how many events he's been to
Knows all of his kids’ friends parents, they all get together and have coffee once a month actually
Nags nonstop and complains about everything he has to do for them, but is always diligent and does it without question
Gets so pouty when they start getting embarrassed to show affection, he WILL get his cheek kisses if it's the last thing he does!!
Vernon
Chillest dad in existence?!?
Literally as long as his kids are safe he doesn't give a single fuuuuckkk
“Sleepover? Yeah, call me when you're done and I'll pick you up.”
He WILL argue with you if he doesn't think there's a good reason to say no to them
So cute and encouraging to all their weird hobbies and phases throughout the years. “Lemme see” and “Really? Show me” are regular phrases in his vocabulary
His kids are definitely gonna inherit his legendary facial expressions afnngjdg
Chan
Super affectionate and doting, but also quite strict with them at times
“I just want the best for you, I want to see you succeed”
HAS A PHOTO OF THEM READY AT ANY TIME, lockscreen is a different shot of his kids every day and is eager to show it off even if no one asked
Not so subtly signs his kid up for dance lessons
Just the most encouraging dad ever, makes sure that they know making mistakes are a part of life and that he will always love them no matter what
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chvoswxtch · 1 year ago
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A fic where reader likes Aaron but is like 20 years younger than him (I checked the math, even at the start of the show, he was 43 so that wouldn't have been weird. Unless u find that weird? Pretend i said 10 years if that weirds u out) and she thinks she doesn't have a chance with him and that he wouldn't even consider her. And so she just pines over him with the unrequited crush blues. Maybe hotch seems to "baby" her and be extra protective of her so she chalks it up to being the baby of the team. Meanwhile he does not view her as a baby. At all. And maybe he doesn't even realize he treats her any different. Angst welcome! Definitely romance
She/her pronouns for the fic if u want to do it please 🙏 and thank u 😁
– Zee
MY DARLING ZEE
I have been SO excited to post this one, so thank you for requesting it. as usual, I got carried away, but it's daddy hotch so I apologize for nothing
enjoy ;)
warnings: swearing, lots and lots of angst word count: 4.5k
baby.
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Furious didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt currently. The entire cabin of the jet was thick with tension radiating from your barely concealed rage, and for a split second you felt guilty, because the team’s discomfort was more than palpable. But as your gaze wandered to the opposite end of the jet and you caught sight of the culprit of your vexation, brooding heavily in your direction, any sliver of remorse evaporated from your pores and your eyes instantly hardened in response.
Fucking Aaron Hotchner.
Hotch’s thick dark brows were pinched together, creating a crease of annoyance right between them, and his lips were pressed in a line that was harsher than usual, causing his frown lines to settle even deeper into the skin around his mouth. His deep umber eyes were void of any warmth, and there was no evidence of faint mirth creasing around them. Instead his lethal gaze was cold as steel, and as rigorous as stone.
You had seen a more intense version of that look several times before whenever he interviewed unsubs that made monsters look like fairytales, and normally it sent a chill down your spine. Not because you were scared of your boss; quite the opposite actually. Every time you watched him stare down the worst of humanity with an aura of disinterest and a hard glare that showed he was completely unimpressed, you found yourself more and more attracted to him. Especially on the rare occasions when he lost his temper and ended up slamming his hands on the table while yelling in their face. You found that incredibly hot. 
From the day you met Hotch for your interview, you had found him attractive. Intimidating as hell, but attractive. The fact that he was your boss didn’t deter you from developing a little crush on him, or the fact that he was a widower with a six year old son. None of that stopped the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach every time he gave you a tiny bit of praise in the form of a “good job”, or a simple nod of approval. In fact, the more Hotch warmed up to you, the worse your little crush got.
You found yourself grinning whenever someone made him crack the tiniest of smiles, and nothing fueled your ego more than his quiet snort whenever you said something he seemed to find funny. Hotch surprisingly had a great sense of humor when the stress of being the unit chief of the B.A.U. wasn’t looming over his head. He could be stubborn and closed off sometimes, and he wasn’t always the best with words, but you could tell by his actions that he truly cared about his team. Unfortunately for you, his treatment revealed exactly how he saw you. 
The baby of the team. 
It was no secret that’s how the rest of the team saw you too. Derek had been teasingly, but affectionately, referring to you as “Baby Spice” since your first day because you were by far the youngest member of the team and beyond feisty. Spencer even joined in with the nicknames, jokingly calling you “kid” with a proud grin now that he was no longer the youngest, even though there was less than a five year gap between the two of you, which Rossi constantly reminded him of with a smack to the back of his head. At a certain point you realized that Rossi just enjoyed messing with Spencer, but you still grinned at him in appreciation every time he came to your defense.
Even though you were far from being a child, Hotch still treated you differently than the others, which did not go unnoticed by anyone. He was far more protective of you, not allowing you to go anywhere alone when the team was working a case, and he hardly ever wanted you in the interrogation room with unsubs. Only after Emily backed you up, insisting it was important to your training, did he finally allow you to interrogate. But it was under the strict condition that he was always the one in the room with you. He never allowed you to enter a crime scene or a suspected location of an unsub first, and the first time you got injured while on a case, resulting in the tiniest of a cut above your eyebrow, Hotch forced you to take a leave of absence for two weeks.
You made it three days before you burst into his office and demanded that he end your leave.
He didn’t.
Because of the way Hotch seemed to “baby” you, it resulted in the rest of the team doing it too. Emily and JJ weren’t as bad about it, but they definitely put themselves in front of you anytime a situation got dangerous. Derek and Hotch were by far the worst and the most obvious about being overprotective, but Spencer and Rossi weren’t far behind. The only one that ever treated you as an equal was Garcia, and that’s why she was your favorite.
And the only one you confided in about your little crush on your boss. Although, you were sure Emily and JJ had caught on by now. They always flashed you a teasing smirk and a little wink anytime they caught you silently pining.
But that was what seemed to solidify that you would never have a chance with Hotch. Not that he was your boss, or that he had traumatically lost his wife, or that he had a young son, or even the fact that he was a good twenty years older than you. It was that he seemed to view you more as a helpless child than a capable woman.
As soon as the jet landed, you were the first one off. You could hear Hotch’s shoes stomping along the floor of Headquarters right on your heels. While you stopped at your desk to drop off your go bag, fully prepared to get your shit and leave, his angry march continued up the stairs towards his office, but he never once took his irritated glare away from your figure.
“Y/L/N, my office. Now.”
Gritting your teeth hard, you turned your head to shoot daggers in his direction, but he had already disappeared into his office. Disregarding the sympathetic concern from your coworkers, you furiously made your way up the stairs and made a dramatic show of slamming the door to Hotch’s office forcefully behind yourself, which in turn made his eyes narrow into vehement slits as he looked at you. He straightened his back, squaring his shoulders while he stepped around his desk to stand a few feet away from you. He looked absolutely pissed, but you were too lost in your own rage to care.
“You were completely out of line-”
“Oh, bullshit! I was doing my job-”
“I gave you a direct order and you ignored it, putting yourself and the entire team at risk.”
Hotch’s voice rose in volume when you combated his critique, and even though you had spoken over him first, the fact that he was now doing it to you only fueled your anger further. You took a bold step forward and glared up at Hotch as you grit your rebuttal out through your teeth.
“I saved that kid’s life-”
“By being reckless! You could’ve gotten him killed. You could have gotten killed. Don’t you get that?”
“But I didn’t! No one got hurt, so what the fuck is the issue-”
“The issue is you.”
Hotch’s comment quickly halted the verbal punch you were about to throw, and as you glared up at him, you noticed that his nostrils were flaring with fury and that his darkened eyes were wild and blown open with pure unbridled rage. The sting of his words caused the wildfire flaring inside of you to shrink to the dull roar of a fireplace blaze. Crossing your arms over your chest in a sign of defiance, you lowered the volume of your voice and layered it with acidity. 
“You’re a fucking hypocrite.”
Hotch narrowed his eyes, which seemed to be glowing with resentment, as he took another step towards you, faintly cocking his head to the side.
“Excuse me?”
He was giving you an opportunity to correct yourself. But one thing Hotch hadn’t seemed to learn about you was that you could be just as stubborn as he was, and once you reached a certain stage in your wrath, you didn’t back down. You went straight for the jugular.
“If it had been you, you wouldn’t have called it ‘reckless’. But because it’s me, you flip out and blow the whole fucking thing out of proportion because you treat me like I’m a goddamn child-”
“I wouldn’t treat you like a child if you didn’t fucking act like one.”
At this point, there was barely an inch of space between you and Hotch, and you had to tilt your head back slightly just to return his scowl. He might as well have thrown gasoline on the fire with that comment, and you were suddenly completely fed up with no one in this goddamn building viewing you as a grown fucking woman.
“If it had been Derek, or Emily, you wouldn’t be giving them shit like this. You would’ve given them a slap on the wrist, but still acknowledged that they got the job done. So why do I get treated differently-”
“Because you’re not as good as you think you are, and you’re certainly not as good as them.”
That simple statement hurt worse than if Hotch had physically struck you across the face with the back of his hand. All the fury within you suddenly fizzled out, and you stood there dumbstruck while Hotch let out an exasperated exhale through his nose and turned away from you to walk around the corner of his desk and plop down angrily in his chair. He opened the file currently sitting in front of him and directed his irritated attention solely to the pages, reaching for a pen from the holder to his right to wrap his fingers around. He didn’t even look up as he barked out his next order.
“You’re suspended for three weeks. When you return, we’ll discuss your behavior and your future here at the B.A.U.”
Everything felt like it had suddenly come crashing down around you, and you found yourself wondering if it was all worth it. The stress of the job, the never ending hours, the horrors you saw day in and day out, but especially the treatment you received from Hotch and the others. You started to wonder if you had tricked yourself into believing it wasn’t harmful and had all come from a good place, but now you weren’t so sure anymore. For the first time since joining the B.A.U., you found yourself wanting out.
Swallowing the pieces of the lump that threatened to form in your throat, you lifted your chin slightly and spoke in a quiet but firm voice.
“No.”
Hotch quickly lifted his gaze to glower up at you, the thickness of his brows making him appear angrier from where you stood above him. However the second he caught the look on your face, his eyes softened considerably and he sat up straight, the semi permanent frown on his lips vanishing into a subtle line. His eyes followed the movement of your hand while you pulled the gun from the holster at your hip and sat it down in front of him on the desk, along with your badge. There was a brief flash of panic in Hotch’s eyes when he looked at you again, and his lips parted slightly, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak.
“I quit.”
Turning around to solemnly leave his office, you ignored the gentle pleas of your name leaving his lips. As you descended the stairs, the team’s heads perked up in curiosity, their gazes darting between your melancholic movements while you gathered your things, and the sight of a frantic Hotch rushing down the stairs like a man on a mission.
“Agent Y/L/N, do not walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”
Realizing that he was getting nowhere by being authoritative, Hotch let out an exasperated deep exhale through his nose and lowered the volume of his voice, speaking in a far gentler tone.
“Y/N we have to talk about this, you can’t just leave.”
You didn’t bother looking at any of them as you began your walk towards the elevators. You could still hear Hotch following closely behind you, and all of a sudden Derek’s large figure appeared in front of you. He dipped his head slightly to capture your eyes, the confusion on his features melting into pure concern as he glanced over your shoulder at Hotch before looking back at you. He held his right hand out towards you as if he were extending an olive branch and tilted his head to the side slightly.
“Whoa, what’s goin’ on Baby Spice? C’mon, talk to me.”
Derek was speaking to you in that gentle manner that he used when he wanted to show a victim that he wasn’t a threat. There was no doubt he could see the sadness and defeat glistening in your eyes, but you didn’t have the energy to rip open the wound any further.
“I’m going home. Please move.”
That was all you could manage to weakly get out as you attempted to step around him. But Derek, being Derek, wasn’t having it. He reached out to gently place his hand on your shoulder.
“I’ll drive you.”
“I can drive myself.”
“Baby-”
“I’m not a child, Derek. I don’t need your help, can you back off?”
Derek’s warm gaze widened considerably, and his neat onyx brows rose up his forehead in complete shock. You had never exploded on him like that, or any of the others for that matter. But right now all you wanted to do was get the hell out of there.
“Let her go.”
Derek glanced over your shoulder to look at JJ in pure confusion, but she gave a slight shake of her head while holding his gaze with a firm look in her ocean blue eyes, giving him a nonverbal cue to sit this one out. After a moment of hesitation, Derek removed his hand from your shoulder and took a step to the left to unblock your path. 
The entire team was silent while watching you disappear behind the elevator doors.
»»———  ———««
A subtle but firm series of knocks at your door roused you from your sleep. Squinting at the clock on your bedside table, the lime green numbers read ten twenty-three pm. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. As soon as you had walked through the door of your apartment hours ago, you kicked off your shoes and crawled in bed, your mind spiraling about what you had just done and what it meant for the future.
When the knocks grew more impatient, you threw your comforter off with an irritated huff and got out of bed, exiting your bedroom to make your way to the living room to figure out who the hell was knocking on your door this late. However when you swung the front door open, your unexpected visitor was the last person you expected it to be.
Aaron Hotchner.
The darkness under his eyes was more prominent than usual, and his neatly cropped hair looked messy, as if he had been stressfully running his fingers through it. The permanent scowl he normally wore was missing from his lips, and there was a faint flicker of concern highlighted in his eyes. The first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, and his merlot colored tie hung loosely around his neck.
He looked exhausted.
Instead of speaking, you arched one of your dark brows, silently asking for the reason for his impromptu visit. As he shifted awkwardly to his other foot and cleared his throat, you realized you had never seen him look so unsure of himself.
“May I come in?”
Part of you wanted to slam the door in his face, but a bigger part of you was curious to know why your former boss had shown up at your door unannounced at ten thirty at night. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you stepped aside to allow Hotch to pass by you. The second the door shut with a soft click and you turned around to face him, there was already a blanket of irritation tugging his features down. He didn’t even give you a chance to question his presence before speaking.
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
A dry laugh instantly escaped your lips, and a soft furrow settled between your brows while you crossed your arms over your chest.
“Wow, you’re really good at this whole apology thing, huh?”
“I’m not here to apologize. I’m here to be honest with you, and the honest truth is you’re a huge pain in my ass. You’re stubborn, emotionally reactive, not to mention combative-”
“Then why the hell did you hire me-”
“I’m not finished.”
Hotch was speaking in that firm authoritative voice he used whenever he wanted to make it crystal clear he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit or push back. Despite your burning desire to lash out again, you bit your tongue and settled for glaring at him instead.
“You are constantly acting like you have something to prove-”
“Because you make me feel like I have to, Aaron. You, and the rest of the team, make me feel like I have to prove my worth every fucking day. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is? Or how much that makes me doubt myself?”
“Do you ever stop talking long enough to listen to someone else speak?”
Tension hung in the small space of your living room like a heavy and dense fog. Hotch observed you silently for a moment as your frustrations lingered in the air while you refused to meet his eyes. There was an unreadable expression on his face, and he seemed to wait until he could tell your emotions had leveled out slightly before speaking again.
“I admired your compassion.”
Perplexity twisted up your features as you stared across your living room at Hotch.
“What?”
“You asked why I hired you. That’s why.”
He made it sound like it was the most simple statement in the world, but it only added another layer to the cryptic labyrinth you were trying to navigate.
“I don’t understand-”
“When I reviewed your case work with you in your interview, I was impressed by your attention to detail. But I was even more impressed that when I asked you questions about the victims you had worked with, you gave me personal details about them, not just black and white facts that were in their file. You remembered things about them. You humanized them instead of speaking about them like a statistic.”
All you could do was blink at him in surprise. That was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. Sensing that a calmness had settled over you, Hotch took a cautious step forward and continued.
“You know just as much about the victims of notorious serial killers as you do about the serial killers themselves. Every solution you have to a problem is led with people in mind, trying to minimize casualties. You speak about victims like people, not numbers or objects. You put everyone’s feelings, and safety, before your own, and that is both the best thing about you and the worst.”
The sincerity in Hotch’s voice caught you off guard, and for a moment you weren’t sure what to say. He spoke to you in the soft voice you had once overheard him speaking to Jack in on the phone, and that caused a fluttering feeling inside your stomach. But it also added to your confusion. If he thought so highly of you, then why did he treat you the way he did?
“Why are you so different with me?”
Hotch let out a deep exhale through his nose, dragging his palm down his face slowly before loosely gesturing to you with his hand.
“Because it’s my job to protect you.”
“No it isn’t.”
It was Hotch’s turn to stare at you in puzzlement, his thick brows knit together in the center of his forehead. Running a hand through your hair in slight irritation, you shook your head slowly.
“I knew exactly what I was signing up for when I applied for this job. I knew it was dangerous-”
“My job as the unit chief is to keep my team safe-”
“No, Aaron. It’s to lead us. We all knew the risks when we joined. There is only so much you can control, you of all people should know that. I know you try to look out for us, but you don’t treat the rest of the team like you treat me. And I get it, okay? I am the youngest on the team, but I’m not a child-”
“I don’t think you’re a child.”
Hotch looked even more perplexed by your words, his head tilted to the side slightly while looking over at you.
“Y/N, your age has nothing to do with the way I treat you-”
“Then what is it?”
That uncertainty was once again shining in his eyes. It looked like Hotch was struggling internally with which version of his truth he wanted to give you. The revelation about your age not being a factor in his treatment filled you with a sense of relief, but also left you with more questions than answers. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Hotch’s face softened considerably as he took a few steps closer towards you.
“I…I care about all of you, and I don’t want to see anything happen to any of you.”
The intensity of his eye contact caused a slight shiver to nip at your spine, and it seemed like there was a hidden meaning to his sentence; something deeper. 
“You…care about me?”
The tiniest of smirks tugged at the edge of Hotch’s lips, and his eyes had lightened in color with pure amusement.
“You know, for one of my most brilliant profilers, you’re pretty bad at this. Should I be concerned?”
Warmth bloomed in your cheeks hearing the faint tease lingering at the edge of his question. Hotch had never been this laid back and playful with you before. It almost sounded like he was…flirting?
Your eyes widened slightly while staring up at him, an overly dramatic gasp leaving your lips.
“Was that…a joke? Did you just make a joke? Are you feeling alright? Should I call a doctor?”
Deciding to test the waters, you brought your hand up to place the back of it against his forehead before moving it downwards to place against his cheek, as if you were checking his temperature. All of a sudden, a huge tooth bearing grin stretched across his lips, and your breath caught in your throat.
He was smiling.
Aaron Hotchner was smiling. 
He gently grasped your wrist in his large hand, his grin fading to a miniscule smirk while his gaze became a little more intense.
“Actually, smartass, I’m having a bit of a rough night. One of my best profilers quit on me earlier. Although in her defense, I was kind of being a dick.”
“Kind of?”
“Don’t push it. I’m already doing something I normally don’t.”
“Which is?”
“Begging for forgiveness.”
Hotch hadn’t let go of your wrist, and either your mind was playing tricks on you, or he had somehow gotten closer. There was barely a centimeter separating your chests. Him telling you not to push it only made you want to do it that much more, and since you had already technically quit, you decided to throw caution to the wind.
“I don’t hear any begging.”
The mirth in Hotch’s eyes darkened into something you hadn’t seen before, and for a moment you were nervous that you had crossed a line. It felt like he was staring directly into your soul, searching for some answer that would determine his next move. 
“You are by far the most frustrating woman I have ever met.”
Woman.
Hotch thought of you as a woman, and that caused a bright grin to stretch across your lips.
“Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either, but I still like you.”
Hotch’s grasp on your wrist tightened slightly at the end of your sentence, and a look of surprise flashed across his face before his eyes returned to that darkened look you couldn’t decipher. 
“Is that so?”
His voice was low, but firm, and the sultriness of it nestled comfortably between your inner thighs. All you could do was subtly nod while staring up at him, watching as he leaned in meticulously and painfully slow.
“If I’m reading this wrong-”
“If you’re reading this wrong, you’re a terrible profiler.”
You weren’t one to wait for action, so before he could respond, you reached up to grab onto the back of Hotch’s neck and pulled him down to press your lips against his in a tentative kiss. At first he tensed up, but then you felt his body physically relax, and a soft hum sounded in your throat when he snaked his arm around your waist. Reluctantly pulling away, he gently brushed his nose against yours and whispered.
“So, I’ll see you in the office Monday?”
“Mm, no.”
Hotch pulled back so he could stare down at you in pure perplexity, and you grinned at his facial expression.
“No?”
“I’m suspended, remember? Three weeks, I think it was?”
Hotch’s lips formed into a thin line as he stared down at you, the amusement previously lingering in his eyes completely gone. You couldn’t help but laugh, lightly shoving him away from you with your palms against his chest.
“Hey, you decided my sentence.”
“You were being a brat-”
“And now this brat has a three week vacation. I’ve been meaning to take a trip anyway-”
“Actually, I haven’t filed any paperwork, so you’re not officially suspended, and you’re still a current employee. I’ll see you on Monday, Agent Y/L/N.”
The demanding tone of his voice made you bite down on your bottom lip, and you leaned back against your kitchen island while arching one of your brows in challenge and crossing your arms across your chest with a playful smirk on your lips.
“You don’t wanna see me before that, sir?”
The way you used his title clearly had an affect on him, and you suddenly realized that the emotion eclipsing his eyes was pure lust. He slowly reached his hand up to tug at the loose knot on his tie until it came undone around his neck completely, and he slowly approached you with a wolfish grin.
“Why do you think I’m here?”
tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejlovebot @oscarisaacsleftknee
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clockwayswrites · 22 days ago
Text
Danny in Metropolis Ch2/P2
masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3
(much love to @fadinggalaxysalad for the idea of Kon considering his own logo)
Picking out a lunch box was surprisingly hard. It said so much about a person.
Jon's was a Robin lunch box, because of course it was. Though Kon very much doubted that Damian's was a Superboy one (especially since it wouldn't be a Superboy the Second one). Kon’s own was a simple black one that he has been doodling on all year with a silver sharpie.
Maybe predictively, school was full of lunch boxes of superheroes, pop stars, geometric colors, and semi-abstract artsy patterns. Anything deemed not too “kiddy”. Eliminating the kiddy things on the shelf didn't get Kon very far. His own logo caught his eye, sitting innocently on the shelf among the Justice League heroes.
It was a little tempting. The thought of Danny carrying around his symbol through school every day brought a flush to Kon’s cheeks.
But there was no was he was going deal with the teasing from his family for that choice.
He moved away from that area of the shelves, because he wasn't going to get Danny any other superhero's symbol either, and continued on down to the abstract section. It was small and Kon was ready to rule it out until he saw it: a mostly black bag with a stylized set of stars on it. It was a little like Kon's own bag without actually matching in a way he could be teased about. It also felt very Danny somehow.
Kon grabbed the bag before he could over think it and went to finish up the rest of the list he'd been given since he was going out anyways.
-
Danny was already at the table, head buried into his crossed arms. The rest of their table was still empty. It made it easier to walk over and set the new lunch box down in front of Danny, close enough to bump his arms.
After a beat, Danny turned enough to peer at the bag with one shadowed eye. “What's that?"
“Your lunch,” Kon said with every bit of calmness he could muster. He sat down across from Danny and put his own bag on the table.
He'd drawn a new monster in the bottom right corner during math.
“My… lunch…,” Danny repeated slowly. “I… don't have a lunch?”
“Yes you do, it's right there.”
“What.”
“Lunch, you, there, eat.”
“You Kronk,” Danny replied instantly, as if on instinct. He blinked like he was rebooting. “I'm sorry, how do I have a lunch?”
“Because my dad packed you one.”
Danny slowly reached out to poke at the bag. “…right. Why did your dad pack me a lunch?”
Kon opened his own lunch and pulled out the PB&J sandwich and took a large bite. Unabashedly, he answered with his mouth full, “Because I asked him to.”
“Con…”
“Danny, it's fine. Just eat it, okay? Not, like, don't eat anything you don't like, but there won't be anything on your no list in it.”
“Oh.” Danny reached and pulled the lunch box closer. “I… thank you? And tell your dad thank you?”
“Sure, will do,” Kon said as if it was nothing and he wasn't hiding a smile by taking another bite.
Both of them were saved from having to say anything more by the rest of their friends (a loose word, sometimes) arriving at the table. There was some shock expressed at Danny actually having lunch, but mostly good natured teasing and some expressions of how glad they were to see it.
Kon shot Danny a little look during it, and got a blush and little eye roll back for it. It was reward enough for Kon. He was just glad to see Danny eating.
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archangeldyke-all · 5 months ago
Note
Reader who's been hired as more muscle for the gang? Maybe Sev is a bit jealous and/or is mean to reader, but the reader plays this off by flirting/teasing Sev. And ends up topping her.
Jfdjhggj I need more bottom Sev in my life lmao
bottom sevika is the loml actually
men and minors dni
you cannot, for the fucking life of you, figure out why sevika hates you so much.
you've been working for silco for about six months now, and it's been great. the best job of your life. sure, you're constantly committing crimes and dodging punches, but silco pays well, you get unlimited drinks at the last drop, and you've found a great group of friends in all his other goons.
well, all of the goons except sevika. she despises you, and you've got no fucking idea why. you've been nothing but pleasant and respectful toward her, but lately your patience is starting to wear thin.
"everyone was great at the dropoff today, boss. ran saved us half an hour with some quick thinking and knife skills, and deckard was surprisingly accurate with his math."
"that's what i like to hear. any issues?" silco asks from his desk, where he's puffing on a cigar. your stomach sinks-- you know what's coming.
sevika's silver eyes flick over to you, a small smirk on her lips while she speaks. "the fuckin' rookie forgot to fill the van with gas." she says.
you scowl and scoff. "i did not! that was your fucking assignment-- i was in charge of driving!"
sevika's smirk turns into a grin-- it seems like the only thing she likes more than bothering you is when you fight back. "are you seriously speaking to your superior in that tone right now?" she asks.
"my 'superior'?! as far as i'm aware you're just the bitch at work who makes my life fucking miserable."
all the air gets sucked out of the room, and behind you ran mutters something under their breath. "wrong move, rookie."
sevika's sneering at you, and you get exactly one second of warning before she's grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and is dragging you out of the office, a series of 'oooooh's following behind you.
"oh, great, now she's gonna fuckin' kill me before i can even get paid for today's work." you mutter to yourself as sevika drags you to her office, slamming the door shut behind her. she shoves you against the wall hard, and you grunt. "fuck! what is your fucking problem!?" you shout, shoving at sevika's shoulders. she barely budges.
"you talk too much for your own fuckin' good, y'know." she growls.
you sneer up at her. "and you'd be a lot more attractive if you learned to play nice."
sevika freezes, her anger melting into a shocked expression. you giggle a little-- it looks like you've finally found a way to fight back with sevika-- flirting. "sh-shut up." she mutters eventually. you snort.
"what's wrong, sev, got you tongue tied? that's all it takes, huh? a little compliment and you lose all that bite?" you tease.
sevika doesn't get angry like you expect her to, though. instead, she gulps, and her eyes get wide. you burst into giggles and sevika blinks, her shoulders hunching up. "shut the fuck up." she tries to sound scary, but her voice is too shaky for it to work.
"oh, shit!" you laugh. sevika hunches in on herself even more. "holy shit! you've got a crush on me!" you cackle, pointing an accusing finger at sevika. you watch in fascination as a blush creeps all the way up her neck to the tip of her ears.
"n-no i don't." she tries to deny. you're still reeling from your discovery, giddy and flabbergasted.
"you totally do! holy shit how did i not realize this before!? you're an emotionally constipated shithead, of course you don't know how to flirt! you probably didn't even realize, did you? just wanted to tug my pigtails and get my attention somehow huh?" sevika blinks at you owlishly-- more surprised than you've ever seen her before. you snort. "everything makes sense now." you chuckle to yourself.
"f-fuck off." sevika mutters eventually. you cackle and smack her on the shoulder.
"i've got you all worked out, hah! monday's gonna be a breeze." you laugh to yourself as you make to leave. sevika reaches out and spins you back around before you can open the door fully. you raise an eyebrow at her. "yes?"
sevika looks flustered and confused and slightly scared of you. you giggle a bit as you watch her try and fail to come up with anything to say, before rolling your eyes and giving her a little help.
"figure out a nicer way to flirt with me and you might be surprised, sev. until then, leave me the fuck alone unless you want me telling the gang why you've been picking on me so much." you say, then turn to leave again.
this time you make it halfway out the room before sevika's pulling you back in the room, slamming the door shut and shoving you against the wall again. for one horrible second you worry that you've read the whole situation wrong and you've only managed to enrage sevika even more with the suggestion that she might like you-- especially when sevika's hand wraps around your throat-- but then she freezes and takes a shaky breath. her fingers unwrap from your neck, slowly trailing up to cup your face.
"shut up." sevika whispers at what must be the cockiest, pleasantly surprised smile on your face. you just snort.
"make me." you demand.
sevika swoops forward to kiss you, and you giggle against her lips.
she's like putty in your hands, letting you guide her hands up and down your body, moaning against your lips. when you sink a hand into her hair, she shivers, and you manage to flip the two of you so you're pressing her against the door.
sevika's panting and staring at you with stars in her eyes. you snort at the sight-- endlessly intrigued with her now that you've figured her out. "oh, you're sweet aren't you?" you tease.
sevika tries to glare at you, but it falls flat with her eyes blown so wide they're black and her hands desperately clutching at your hips. "no, i'm not." she denies. you giggle and lean forward to start sucking a hickey against her throat-- the idea of sevika wearing your bite on her throat in front of the gang tomorrow making you dizzy.
"you are." you say. "bet you're fuckin' soaked for me, too, aren't you?"
sevika whimpers. you have to kiss her again to keep from laughing at her. she's pathetic. it's so fucking hot.
sevika grabs your hand and tries to shove it down her pants. you laugh, pulling away from her and grabbing her chin-- forcing her to look at you. "sevika, take a breath, babe." you request. she moans at the petname, and you laugh. "fuck, you're cute."
"fuck off!" sevika growls. you snort.
"i need you to use your words before i can take care of you, honey."
sevika shivers, her voice shaky as she speaks. "fuck... please fuck me."
you raise an eyebrow at her, and sevika actually stomps her foot. you laugh. "and why should i?" you ask.
sevika sputters, then cringes. you watch her mentally debate whether or not she's horny enough to communicate-- and you're surprised when she takes a deep breath, rolls her eyes, and then speaks. "b-because... because i've got a stupid fuckin' crush on you, okay!?" she shouts.
you grin and lean forward, kissing her cheek. "okay." you say simply, shoving your hand down the front of her pants and boxers. sevika whimpers, leaning forward to bury her face against your shoulder as you gasp. "oh, baby-- you're soaked." you coo.
she bites your shoulder. "would you just-- shut the fuck --ah!" she gasps at you sink two fingers inside her. "f-f-f-fuck!" she whines. you laugh.
"you better shut up or everyone's gonna know what's goin' on in here." you tease. sevika whimpers, and leans back-- shoving a fist in her mouth. you snort and lean forward, nudging her hand out of the way with your face. "move that. i got a better way to shut you up."
sevika's hand wraps around you, clawing at your back as you start to kiss her. it's uncoordinated and sloppy-- both of you too focused on her cunt to care much about your lips-- and it's the hottest kiss of your life. especially because sevika keeps whimpering into your mouth.
you manage to muffle most of her moans and groans, but when she cums, sevika leans back and shouts. "oh, oh, oh fuck!"
you giggle against her throat-- there's no explaining that away-- but you think sevika might've done it on purpose. you have a sneaking suspicion that sevika's going to be a possessive lover if the way she's clinging to you as she catches her breath is any clue. you don't mind.
"you're a fucking mess." you tease. sevika grunts and pinches your ass.
"shut up."
"that's rich coming from you. think the walls shook with how loud you were squealing."
"shut up!" sevika growls. you laugh.
"you don't scare me, baby. 'specially not when your cunt's still squeezing my fingers." you say, wiggling said fingers just a bit. sevika growls and bites your shoulder again, and you giggle. "are you gonna go back to bein' a bitch to me now or have we moved past that?" you ask.
sevika huffs and picks her head up, peeking up at you with puppy eyes. "i'm... sorry." she mutters. you smirk, raising an eyebrow at her, and sevika groans and straightens up. "i am!" she whines. "i just-- y'know." she says, waving her hand at you. you giggle.
"i do know." you say, nodding. "you're a mess."
sevika huffs. "yeah, basically."
"it's okay, sev. you're a hot mess." you tease. she snorts.
"i can't believe i like you." she groans. you just laugh. sevika huffs and you pull your hand out of her pants and straighten her out a bit. you make to leave and sevika squeaks. "wait!" you pause in the doorway, and sevika gulps, cringes, and groans. "fuck. fuck! fuck, i don't... just-- what're you doing tonight?" she asks.
something inside you flutters and you shrug. "you tell me."
sevika smiles a bit, her eyes darting away from you as she reaches up to rub the back of her neck. "...i won a shitload of money in cards last night... i could take us up to the promenade?" she asks. you grin.
"pullin' out all the stops, huh?" you ask. she shrugs.
"'s an apology."
"i like it. you've got yourself a date, sev."
sevika grins.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months ago
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fellow + gidel ssr time fellas
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(This bastard took an entire soft pity :(( but hey, I got a Dorm Uniform Jade dupe and finally FINALLY my first Dorm Uniform Floyd on the way, so I ain't too pressed about it.) RISE UP FELLOWIVES NOW��S YOUR TIME
***Character profile, voice lines, Groovy, and vignette spoilers below the cut!!***
First off! His official profile, coffin, and candy (Fox Candy):
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(School) Grade/Class: None
Birthday: May 17 (Taurus)
Age: 26
Height: 181 cm
Dominant Hand: Right
Hometown: ???
Club: None
Best Subject: Mathematics (specifically Arithmetic)
Hobby: Watching theater
Dislikes: Saving money
Favorite Food: Apples
Least Favorite Food: Potatoes
Special Skill: Sewing
We finally get confirmation of Fellow’s age! (He had previously said in Playful Land that he was 20-something.)
I love that Fellow’s best subject is math Deuce is jealous/j; it makes so much sense given that his inspiration, Honest John (and Fellow himself) aren’t good at reading. It’s that whole “kids are either good at math or English” stereotype. In Japanese, the phrase 算数 is used. 算数 refers to arithmetic, or very basic math taught in elementary school (adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing). That specific phrase explains Fellow’s elementary level of understanding. His dislike being saving money is also related to numbers; he spends the money he has right away to get by in the moment. Fellow doesn’t really have the skill or the luxury of financial planning, he has to focus on the here and now, looking out for both himself and Gidel.
OMG, his favorite and least favorite foods???? 😭 Playful Land has apple (core) flavored candies and popcorn… and again, this is a reference to Honest John and Pinocchio’s first encounter! He takes the kid’s apple and eats it, lol cnsvwiwguwkw Potatoes being his disliked food… Maybe it’s because it’s the “poor” man’s vegetable? Because potatoes are so versatile, keep for a long time, and are filling because of the starch content, Fellow might resort to eating them a lot, so perhaps as a result he got sick of the taste.
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What I find most interesting about Fellow’s profile are his listed hobby and special skill. He largely comes off as despicable and a slimy scammer (which he is, don’t get me wrong), but we can see different sides to him in these details—both the inner child that had his dreams trampled but remains hopeful about the future and the big brother figure/guardian to a child. Gidel is actually formally referred to in Fellow’s profile as his (non-blood related) brother, which made my heart melt 🥺 TWST must know I have a thing for beastmen who act shitty but are actually excellent mentors to the children/j
Fellow enjoys watching theater. It’s a way of transporting you away temporarily to new worlds with crazy stories and emotional performances. When words aren’t enough, you sing. And when singing isn’t enough, you dance. It’s an area that’s so full of life and joy, at least from the audience’s perspective. I’m thinking that watching theater must have been a form of escapism for Fellow, especially with how accessible it is (think of like street performances). Watching theater might also serve a dual purpose of teaching Fellow how to come across as amicable and friendly, which says a LOT about his character. He’s resourceful and able to learn from unconventional sources, then is able to apply those skills to real world situations.
Fellow’s special skill being sewing is surprisingly very cute! If you’ve taken one look at his and Gidel’s designs, we may have already spotted some of his handiwork. There’s mismatched fabric patches on their clothes!! The stitches look so clean too. The patterns not matching is probably because Fellow just used whatever scraps he was able to get his hands on, but I also like to imagine that he tried to make the best of the situation by incorporating the mismatched fabrics in a fun way (like the diamonds in his pants).
Next, can we talk about the composition of that GROOVY????
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It’s another reference to the same Pinocchio scene! Fellow’s holding his book like Honest John did and it looks like he’s trying to teach Gidel the alphabet from words scratched on the sidewalk. Notice how the C is written backwards too 😂 He even wears glasses like when Honest John was trying hard to act like an intellectual.
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And Gidel!!! Pencil and pad of paper in hand, he looks so interested to learn (something which was hinted at in Playful Land). Gideon in the film is also shown with a pen and pad of paper, scribbling down nonsense as Fellow pretends to diagnose Pinocchio.
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Gidel glances up at Fellow with an expression of admiration. I love how wholesome their relationship is depicted as, it leaves a warm feeling in the heart.
The framing of this Groovy is very interesting. We have Fellow to our left—a direction has historically been associated with evil (in Italian, the word for left is even sinistra, as if to imply something sinister) and in the darkness. Gidel is the one to our right and in the light. It presents Fellow to us as someone who has given up on his dreams—but not completely, since we see some light touching his hat, gloves, and highest features + he is currently teaching Gidel and still has dreams of opening his own school. Gidel is shown in the light because he’s still a naive child that doesn’t understand how the world works. His dreams haven’t been destroyed yet, and there’s hope for him to have a better life since Fellow is looking after him and instructing him.
CHECK THIS OUT, GIDEL FOLLOWS FELLOW TO CLASS LIKE MARY'S LAMB OR SOMETHING????? Gidel pops out from under the desk or out of/behind Fellow's cape! Gidel also joins Fellow on the homescreen.
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Some of Fellow's expressions are so priceless... For example, look at him in Flight! There's an unsure face and a little bead of sweat. (He makes a lot of pathetic accompanying sounds too, lol) Flying takes magic, so he's probably not confident or powerful enough to maintain flight for long stretches of time--though when he does nail it, he looks ultra smug.
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ADGKVAVFOOEFIEQOfsl HIS SHOCKED FACE
How uncool, Fellow-san...
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His attack sprites are very similar/identical to what we saw in Playful Land--Fellow's just playing for the opposite team now.
Gidel hops into battle to assist, so I guess they count as the first two-character card. It's been a while since I've seen these animations, but I think I can appreciate them a lot more now. I'm noticing new little things like how Fellow adds a bunch of showmanship into his attack, little flashy flourishes and even presenting Gidel with his arms splayed, as if welcoming a star to the spotlight. The attention to detail really is crazy for these.
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If you want to read his voice lines in full, you can find an excellent fan translation of them here! I'll just be remarking on things I noticed while combing through the voice lines myself:
First off: bro calls himself Fellow Hones-SAMA???????? OKAY, KING 😭 Love that confidence you got goin' on there...
bifabsiyofbefe Love how he just reads a textbook and then flat-out admits he has no clue what the heck it's saying. Hey, honesty is a virtue.
Ace 💀 He has the balls to play a prank on an adult... I kind of want to know what the prank was, but at the same time I feel like I should be shaking my head and telling him off for doing it in the first place. I do appreciate that Ace being shitty brought out Fellow's true personality there for a second though, I live for it when Fellow gets real steamed and starts shouting that the NRC students are brats or that they should drop out if they have no motivation in school.
The way Fellow automatically clocked that Kalim is way too trusting and would surely be in danger even if he wasn't the one to come for him... Fellow, watch your back. Jamill WILL come for your sketchy ass for what you did back then.
I didn't find anything super interesting in Fellow's comments about Ortho, but I do think it reveals that there is value in him coming to school. It's only at NRC where Fellow can see such a curious thing like Ortho, and that speaks to the value of really going out there and being exposed to different things. That's part of Lilia's own growth arc too, and a large part of why he now spreads that same rhetoric.
Fellow remarks that Ramshackle is "pretty sweet", which means one of two things: either this is the refurbished post-book 6 dorm OR it's still the shabby pre-book 6 dorm, but since Fellow and Gidel have never really had their own stable housing, even run-down old Ramshackle seems like a massive upgrade.
Fellow and Gidel must have been so happy to see that lunch at NRC is free and served buffet style (so there's no limits to how much you can take). On top of that, they got dead chefs from 5 star restaurants staffing the kitchen! Those two really hit the jackpot, I hope they eat well.
AVUSDGVUADOVIAISDBIDAS THE DIALOGUE IMPLYING FELLOW CASUALLY BYPASSED THE SCHOOL'S BARRIER AND OTHER SECURITY MEASURES... So Chenya-core of him, really. Fellow may not have magical might, but he's seriously street smart to have found a way in like he has.
Small detail but I appreciate how Fellow has lines which call attention to Gidel. It doesn't just remind us that Gidel is there too, but it also demonstrates to us that Fellow actively tries to include him in the conversation despite Gidel's muteness (a condition which may lead others to outright ignoring him or talking down to him).
LAST THING (though it's not in MysteryShopTL's linked post): in his birthday greeting to the player, Fellow says that both you and him don't have talent for magic, so you should get along. I didn't think the game would acknowledge the player and Fellow's similarity in that sense, so it was very nice to be proven wrong.
And to finish off this post (which ended up being way more massive than I thought it would be), a quick summary of the vignettes!! If you want to read them in full, please check out MysteryShopTLs’ post!
In vignette 1, Fellow and Gidel are putting on a street performance in Silk City. Fellow collects fees from the onlookers and then tries to milk more out of them by spinning a story about how Gidel is a puppet that can walk without strings. Buuut Gidel moves like a normal living being and sneezes, which ruins the ruse and leads to the crowd getting mad at them. The duo run off, but Fellow reveals that while the locals were looking at Gidel, he used magic to steal some of their precious metals and jewelry. In the next vignette, Fellow and Gidel have moved on to Fairest City. It's said that they live a nomadic lifestyle and hop from place to place, never staying for too long in any one location because word of their scams may spread and cause a situation where they cannot reasonably make money through their lies. (Cute detail: Fellow listens to Gidel's suggestions on where they should go next and even praises Gidel's smarts.) This time Fellow's trying to auction off a magestone that he claims will allow anyone who holds it to use magic. The people of Fairest City don't believe him and give him the cold shoulder, which upsets Fellow (since he really hates it when others look down on him). He ends up using his UM to get his audience to be more pliant and manages to sell the magestone for a pretty penny. At the end of this vignette, Fellow drops a line about how he and Gidel are so free, how they can do whatever they want since they have nothing holding them back. I really love that thought~
AND IF YOU THOUGHT VIGNETTES 1 AND 2 WERE FUNNY HAHA TEEHEE CUTE, WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE VIGNETTE 3 💀 VIGNETTE 3 FELT LIKE IT WAS A TARGETTED SNIPE ON MY HEART
The setting is Sunrise City! Fellow and Gidel are being chased off by an angry person they tried to rob. It looks like they're unsuccessful today and will be going hungry. Gidel tries opening a random can of OIL in search of food, so Fellow scolds him and tells him to leave it be. Apparently Gidel does this a lot when he's hungry (just grabbing random shit and trying to eat it), even though Fellow has tried teaching him how to read. THIS IS WHAT THE CONTEXT OF THE GROOVY IS, FELLOW SQUATS DOWN (like we literally see his 2D model lowering) AND DRAWS IT ON THE GROUND FOR GIDEL TO SEE. O is for orange, I is for ice-cream, and L is for laugh. Fellow realizes that L is the only non-food word, but he couldn't come up with anything else. I wonder if like... this is some common game they do to distract from hunger. They have to imagine the food they could have but can't. And L being "laugh"? That can't be a coincidence. Fellow could have used any other L word as an example, even if he couldn't come up with a food that starts with L. It makes me think he picked "laugh" on purpose in an effort to lift Gidel's spirits and to try and distract from their circumstances.
Aaaah, as I was saying! Fellow gets upset that he doesn't know as much as your average 26-year old would since he never went to school. Gidel seems to sense his frustrations and reassures him with a pat, which reenergizes Fellow. He says he'll try to find some food, so Gidel should focus on making a fire. While gathering wood to burn, they come across a job posting by a shady rich man that Fellow and Gidel supposedly did another job for in the past. Fellow suggests that they check out the job and if they don't like it then they can leave. ADSKJBBSLDIADBLUBAB These are the events leading up to Playful Land... meaning that Fellow’s showmanship is wasn’t something he developed at the amusement park, but as a general coping and survival mechanism to get by day-to-day.
I uh. May or may not have cried a little at Fellow and Gidel's really wholesome interaction 😭 I MEAN YEAH OF COURSE I'M A SUCKER FOR BIG BROTHER CHARACTERS (and we certainly see that in how Fellow scolds Gidel and looks out for his wellbeing, both in the vignettes and in Playful Land) but also???????? ? ? ? ? ?? ?????? ? ? ? ?? I love Love LOVE how Gidel is shown to be supportive of Fellow as well. Fellow as the older person, the adult, and the able-bodied one of the duo is pulling most of the weight when it comes to getting resources and handling communication. However, Gidel plays an important role in their dynamic as well. He's the heart and the emotional support that Fellow needs when he's down in the dumps and being hard on himself. Gidel not only serves as a "reason" for Fellow to work hard (to support a child), but he also gives Fellow motivation and hope that tomorrow can be another day. YOU CAN REALLY TELL HOW MUCH THESE TWO CARE AND LOOK OUT FOR ONE ANOTHER OTL
OOOOOOOoooOOooOOGGHHHH MY HEART *clutches it* I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE, I CAN'T HANDLE THE ONII-SAMA OF IT ALL
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sosomonimagines · 5 months ago
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House's girl, part one — House x Daughter! Reader
Summary: House learns to love his daughter.
Warnings: diet talk and harassment, but nothing too in-depth
Author's note: English is not my native language. I have an idea for a saga about this, but I want to see if anyone likes it first 😭😭
Part two:
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SUNDAY
You rarely saw your father. 
By the time you were born, your parents had already divorced, and he chose to remain largely uninvolved in your life. You knew your grandparents and received some Christmas and birthday presents, but nothing that made a lasting impact. Most of the time, he lived as though he weren’t a father at all.
Yet here you were, standing in front of his apartment, holding a suitcase with a few changes of clothes. Your mother had become involved with a man of questionable character — a manipulator with a minor criminal record that included harassment. You had reported him for making comments that made you uncomfortable, but your mother, who was deeply entangled with him, dismissed your concerns as lies. Consequently, the women's police station decided to send you to live with your father, as you had no other close relatives.
You knocked on door 221B and waited for about five minutes. “He must be trying to escape through the window, but luckily he’s limping,” you thought with a hint of irony.
“You actually came,” your father said as he opened the door.
“Sorry I didn’t choose to become a homeless person,” you replied.
He stepped aside to let you in. The apartment was surprisingly tidy, which took you aback; your mother had often complained about his disorganization. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had made an effort to clean up for your arrival.
“You’ll stay in the guest room; it’s the second door on the right.”
“Why do you have a guest room if you never have guests?”
“Sometimes, the prostitutes prefer not to sleep in the same room as me, especially when I hire many.”
“Did you know I’m only fourteen and that sexual jokes and exposure to excessive affection can damage my mind, like abuse?”
“Good thing it wasn’t a joke.”
You sighed deeply and walked to the guest room. It was a sparse space with just a bed and a dresser. As you quickly unpacked your clothes, you realized there was no suitable place to study— something you would need to address soon, especially with a math exam approaching.
“Where am I going to study?” you asked your father, who was sitting on the couch with a glass of whiskey. “You’re drinking at eight-thirty in the morning?” you added, somewhat perplexed.
“Are you studying at eight-thirty in the morning?” he retorted with irony. “Study in the kitchen; there’s a table there.”
“But there’s no door between the living room and the kitchen.”
“That’s really a shame.”
“If you watch TV, the noise will distract me. I have Sensory Processing Disorder and need a quiet environment.”
“I’ll buy a desk for your room tomorrow,” he said.
“But I need to study today.”
“One day won’t make a difference.”
“It does when you want to get into Harvard.”
“You’re in middle school; nobody studies in middle school.”
“Actually, I’m in high school. I’m three years ahead.”
“Oh my God, you’re so annoying,” he exclaimed, getting up and heading to his room. “Study in the kitchen in peace. I’ll stay in my room.”
“Don’t you have to go to the hospital?” you asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” he replied, slamming the door behind him. You didn’t mind the harsh tone; you had come for a place to stay, not for a father.
•••
MONDAY
You woke up at six-thirty, the same time as your father. With two bathrooms in the house, you both managed to get ready without crossing paths.
When you met in the kitchen for breakfast, a heavy silence lingered. He served himself without offering you anything, but you had learned the previous day that if you didn’t help yourself, you’d end up going hungry.
You helped yourself to Pop Tarts and a cup of black coffee.
“Aren’t you a bit young for coffee?” your father asked.
“It’s a legal drug, and there are no age restrictions,” you replied.
He didn’t respond, and silence settled between you again. The next sound was the doorbell, followed by the creak of the door opening.
“Hey, House,” a man said as he entered. Seeing you, he paused, visibly shocked. “Is this your daughter?”
“Touché,” your father replied, his tone a blend of sarcasm and resignation.
James Wilson knew that House had a daughter and understood that, despite his reluctance, he cared about her. However, seeing you there was still a surprise.
“My name is James Wilson. I’m a friend of your father’s,” James said, extending his hand for a handshake.
“My dad has friends?” you asked, surprised, making James laugh.
“Alright, alright, that was a really funny joke,” House interrupted. “Let’s head to the hospital; I don’t want to be late.”
“You’re always late, House,” James retorted. “We’ll drop your daughter off at school first.”
“Seriously? Thank you so much!” you said, thrilled, and dashed to grab your backpack.
As you left, James turned to House. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you care about her.”
You arrived home at four in the afternoon, utterly exhausted. After studying late into the night and barely catching glimpses of your father throughout the day, you felt the weight of the long hours. Whenever he did venture into the kitchen, it was in silence, leaving you to wonder whether he was avoiding conversation or simply giving you space.
Heading straight to the kitchen, you rummaged through the sparse offerings. With little more than cereal and Pop Tarts available, you poured yourself some cereal — without milk, as there was none. As you were eating, the doorbell rang.
“Yes?” you called out, opening the door to find a tall, burly man holding a clipboard.
“Gregory House?” he asked.
“This is his house. I’m his daughter.”
“He requested that a study desk be delivered here.”
You smiled to yourself as you let the man in. He proceeded to set up the desk in your room, a small but meaningful gesture from your father.
•••
TUESDAY
You hadn’t seen your father the day before. When he came home, you were already asleep. Besides setting up the study desk, he called later to let you order some food, a small sign that he was making an effort, however minimal.
The next morning, as you both sat down for breakfast, you decided to strike up a conversation, unsure of how receptive he would be.
“How was the hospital yesterday?” you asked.
“Hmm?” he responded, looking up, surprised by the question.
“Any interesting cases?” you pressed.
“A girl with cancer having hallucinations.”
“Was the tumor pressing on the brain?” you inquired.
“No, the tumor was in the heart.”
“…A clot?” you guessed.
“Exactly.” House paused, impressed by your accuracy. He knew you were intelligent, having skipped grades and attended a prestigious school on a scholarship. However, he hadn’t realized your aptitude for medicine. “Do you like medicine?”
“A lot,” you replied. “My dream has been to become a doctor since I was nine. I attend pre-med camps, study whenever I can, read extensively about it, and watch medical shows to guess the diagnoses.”
“I enjoy doing that too,” he said, taking a sip of coffee.
“I was wondering if I could read your medical books.”
“If you can.”
“My reading level is quite advanced. I might not understand everything right away, but I’ll research what I don’t get. And my dad’s a doctor, so I can ask him about it,” you said with a sideways smile, almost catching a glimpse of a smile on his lips.
Moments later, Wilson arrived to take them out. As he dropped you off at school, House mentioned to him that you were aspiring to a medical career and were very intelligent. It was the first time Wilson saw House display genuine pride.
When you arrived home that day, it was the first time in days you could truly relax, free from looming exams or relentless homework. You took a shower and settled into the living room, turning on a cartoon — your favorite way to unwind.
As you were engrossed in an episode of The Flintstones, your father came in.
“Aren’t you studying?” he asked, surprised. It was the first time he’d seen you doing anything other than studying since you arrived. To him, it seemed you were engaged in it constantly.
“My exams are over for now. When I finish a round of exams, I take a day off. And you, why are you home early?”
“There was nothing to do.”
“Did the patient die?”
“No, he recovered.”
“Congratulations.”
“Why?”
“For not having killed him.” House wasn’t sure if you were being serious or sarcastic, but he didn’t care.
He limped over to the refrigerator, grabbed a beer, and sat down next to you. This surprised you; you had expected him to retreat to his room.
“That cartoon isn’t from your era,” he remarked.
“Yes, but I prefer the old ones. Do you want to change the channel?”
“Don’t be overly nice; it’s annoying. You want to watch the cartoon and you got here first, so go ahead.”
You nodded and the room fell into a comfortable silence. Occasionally, you glanced at your father, noticing him getting caught up in the cartoon, even suppressing laughter at some scenes.
After a while, he asked, “Want to order a pizza?”
“I ate out yesterday.”
“So what?”
“My mom only lets me eat out once a week at most. She says it’s unhealthy and makes you fat.”
“Good to know your mother’s paranoias haven’t changed. I’m a doctor, and you know what’s worse than eating out? Not eating at all. Do you want pizza?”
“I guess so.”
“Then call and order it.”
You followed his instructions, ordering your favorite pizza. When it arrived, you ate it in the living room—another thing your mother would never allow. After the cartoon ended, your father switched to a medical drama. You watched in silence until, midway through an episode, he paused and looked at you.
“So, what do you think?” he asked.
“Pardon?” you replied, confused.
“Sudden and inexplicable nail disintegration, colorful and shiny mucous lesions in the mouth, temporary and recurrent inability to recognize faces, rapid and unpredictable changes in blood pressure, and intense heat sensation without fever. What is it?”
“Are you serious?"
“You said you’re good at this, right?”
You paused, considering.
“Stiff-Person Syndrome?”
“I need you to be sure.”
“Stiff-Person Syndrome. It’s a rare autoimmune condition that can lead to progressive muscle rigidity and pain, along with various neurological symptoms like motor difficulties and changes in sensory perception.”
“Great. You’re better than my team,” he said.
You watched two more episodes before falling asleep. In the middle of the night, you woke to find yourself covered and with your foot adjusted for comfort. You smiled, knowing that your father had made sure you were tucked in for a good night’s rest.
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futuremrscameron · 4 months ago
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·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱༻¨*:·bestie!kook·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱༻¨*:·
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content warnings: toxic codependency, mutual obsession, discussions of antiblackness in predominantly white spaces, mentions of drugs/drug abuse, symptoms of bpd, discussion of colorism, sexual tension, misogyny, blood, violence, implied underage drinking, maternal issues, fear of abandonment, parental issues, classism, hinted/implied sexual content
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bestie!kook is not spoiled, not bitchy, but a secret third thing (knows what the fuck she wants and doesn’t let anyone call her bitchy greedy or selfish). she’s an only child, of course she turned out this way.
bestie!kook lives in a mansion-like beach house and met kelce at the house party her parents threw to get to know their neighbors (flex on them). she and kelce both had the same idea of hiding out on the roof. they watched the stars, talked about school starting soon, and the struggles of being black in figure eight.
she hates her parents for moving her here.
okay hate might be a strong word but she’s not thrilled. she adjusts her halter green short chiffon dress as she sits down on the roof. she may be mad at her parents but she would never hear the end of it if she flashed the party guests. she removes her sparkly green heels and looks up at the stars. she knows there’s no real answer in the stars but looking at them has always helped her. she closes her eyes, ready to wish upon a star when she hears him.
“you mind if i chill with you?”
a dark skinned black boy she saw earlier at the party. kelce. he’s wearing a rose gold three piece suit with brown shoes. great taste in fashion? his parents definitely made him wear it.
“did my parents send you?”
“no.”
“did your parents send you?”
“no.” he chuckles
“huh.” interesting. “fine.”
he looks amused. she hates him already. “don’t jump for joy too much, i don’t know how sturdy your roof is.”
he chuckles, “that’s dark.”
“maybe.” he takes off his blazer and carefully places it on the space next to her. he sits down, arms holding his knees, looking up at the stars.
she breaks the silence when it becomes unbearable. “why are you here?”
he glanced at her and shards before turning his attention back to the stars. “party’s lame, not really my scene.”
“what’s your scene?”
he smiles, “you’ll find out soon.”
“you’re just assuming we’ll roll with the same crowd?”
he scoffs as if telling her not to play dumb. “please.”
she nods, understanding what he’s hinting at. “that bleak huh?”
he shrugs, “i’m not gonna lie and tell you i was the only black kid in school but… it’s no new york.”
“so ten times worse.”
he chuckles dryly, “exactly. before i came up here i was called “surprisingly well spoken”.”
she’s not surprised but it’s not what she wants to hear . especially not after getting her life uprooted by her parents the summer before her thirteenth birthday and moved them to the middle of nowhere.
“can’t say i’m surprised. i mean, not even an hour into the party some lady tried to touch my hair and some boy said “my skin looked good in green” fucking bitch.”
“oh we’re trading horror stories? in third grade my math teacher kept getting me confused with the other black boy in class.”
“let me guess he was light skinned.”
“light skinned. light as the fucking sun.”
they both laugh, not at the situation itself but the predictable action. when the laughter dies down he clears his throat.
“you know i have these two friends i think you’d like them.”
“only two? shocker.”
he sighs, “you ever hear the phrase ‘you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’?”
she raises an eyebrow, “is that what you tell yourself to get you through these parties? go along to get along?”
“basically.”
“there’s no way you actually believe that.”
“and what if i do? is that so awful?”
she looks at him, really looks at him for the first time that night. “i guess not.”
they sit in silence again.
“why?”
he looks at her. “why what?”
“why reach out to me? you could’ve just left me up here alone, let me be an outcast. why didn’t you?”
he stands up and picks up his blazer. he looks down at her and smiles. “i know you wanna look like this lone wolf cool girl but… i see you..”
his words send chills down her spine. she writes that off as the cool night air.
“fuck off.”
he chuckles. “see you monday.”
he later invited her to a party the saturday before school and the rest is history.
bestie!kook is kook princess before sarah. the most popular girl in school and in outer banks, an amazing feat for someone who wasn’t born and raised in obx. she was known for her jaw dropping beauty, affluent family, and strange friendship with the kook boys. rafe, kelce, topper, and her were very popular and not just cause they were the richest. the parties they threw are still talked about to this day
bestie!kook who everyone assumes is sweet because of her bright colored outfits when in actuality she’s blunt, cold, stand-off ish, and at times, a genuine menace. she once planted coke on a girl and got her expelled for distribution all cause she didn’t like the way she looked at rafe at a party
four years after moving to obx and she can’t imagine being anywhere else.
“i guess i’m just trying to understand why and how she could do something like this. she was top of the class!” tiffany pushes a honey blonde french curl braid off her shoulder and behind her back. she brushes down her uniform's skirt and fiddles with her loose tie.
tiffany was bestie!kook’s first black girl friend in outer banks. she moved there a year after her which tiffany thinks was fate. they met in pre-algebra, tiffany helped bestie!kook solve a problem that was kicking her ass. they got to talking and have been best friends ever since. she was genuinely kind and despite popular belief, really fucking smart. academically not socially.
“please, this is totally on brand for girls like her, they think they’re too smart to get caught. did you hear her talking about ‘academic immunity’ when they arrested her? that’s not a thing!”
gianna, was the only obx native in the trio. though she transferred from kildare county high school to kildare private academy in the middle of the semester last year. she was tiffany's complete opposite in every way, she wore the complete uniform with no alterations, was more of a loner than a social butterfly, and rocked bold makeup rather than tiffany's go-to subdued look.
she and bestie!kook got along immediately despite being so similar and horribly blunt. bestie!kook loved her no bullshit attitude and disregard for standard kook faux niceties. she also loved that they were close in skin tone. she adored tiffany but there were some things the light skinned girl just couldn’t understand.
bestie!kook stifles a laugh at her friend’s remark and thanks the heavens that her face is buried in the locker so they can’t see her grin. they’re talking about the scandalous affair that they witnessed less than an hour ago but she’s too hungover to care.
she opens her locker and lifts her sunglasses to cheek herself in her locker’s newly bedazzled mirror.
“but still, ashley? ashley who calls weed marijuana expelled for selling coke!? personal feelings aside you can’t tell me that’s not totally sketch.” tiffany’s cheeks are flushed from her raising her voice and screaming about her conspiracy theory. she fans her face, trying to calm herself down. her usual light skin has some more melanin to it after spending her summer outside tanning.
“yes i can. it’s not insane, she acted like she was better than everyone, people like that always have some shit to hide.” gianna frowns at tiffany’s sympathy for the girl.
“but she was always nice to me.” tiffany frowns at the newfound information.
“gee i wonder why.” the dark skinned girl unwraps a piece of bubblegum and pops it in her mouth. “that bitch had it coming. you remember when she wrote that “anonymous” column about how certain students need to ‘speak properly and appropriately at school’. should’ve beat her ass then, pick-me ass bitch.”
“we don’t know that that was her.”
“she’s already been through so much.”
“please did you see the way she looked at rafe? she totally wanted him.”
tiffany frowns, not at the slight directed at her but the new information. “really? i never noticed.”
bestie!kook loved her but she was never great at paying attention to details and believed people always honest about their intentions. she also had certain blind spots like anti-blackness that wasn’t blatantly obvious.
“of course you didn’t.”
“hey!” tiffany's face is red with anger and embarrassment.
bestie!kook slams her locker shut, drawing both girls attention to her. she sighs and punches the bridge of her nose. “it’s too early for this shit.”
the girls apologize at the same time. bestie!kook frowns, “i don’t want you girls fighting over someone so… insignificant.”
they both look like they want to argue their points to her further but are (thankfully) interrupted by none other than rafe cameron.
rafe throws his arm around bestie!kook reader and gives the other girls a semi-friendly smile. “hey ladies.”
“hey rafe!”
“cameron.”
bestie!kook pouts, “what, no greeting for me?”
rafe turns his attention to her. he still towers over her despite her heeled shoes.
he shrugs, “well you ditched me this morning and we saw each other in home room." his tone is nonchalant but she knows him, his real feelings always show in his eyes. his stare is cold, if looks could kill she'd burn under his gaze.
she scoffs, “okay 'ditched' is crazy, i drove myself to school one time and home room was hours ago i want a new greeting.”
“hmm.”
his cold response irks her. she glances at her girls and they get the message.
gianna clears her throat. “we should probably get going tiff.”
tiffany frowns, “what but this is our free period?”
“which is why we made plans remember?”
“we did?”
she grabs tiffany's hand and drags her away. “yes.”
“ooh can we go to chick-fil-a!?”
“sure babe.”
rafe turns his attention back to bestie!kook, "what were you guys talking about?"
she closes her locker and takes off her sunglasses. “nothing.”
he removes his arm from around her shoulder and blocks her view of the hallway. “it was ashley wasn't it.”
of course he knew. "if you knew why the fuck would you ask?"
"well fuck me for giving you the benefit of the doubt."
"benefit of the doubt for what!?"
"to tell me the truth!" they've gained the attention of some students and admin by now. she blushes and grabs his hand, "come on." she drags him away and doesn't stop til they reach the janitor's closet.
"i know this is about last night. you know you can tell me anything right?" his strikingly blue eyes shine with worry.
she nods. “okay.”
she tells him everything. that morning she threw on her sunglasses after donning her uniform with a plan in mind. she hadn’t even carpooled with rafe like they usually do just so she could get there early and set her plan in motion. she had ashley write her a fake doctor’s note for her sunglasses and hugged her to show her appreciation. the girl was caught off guard and that’s when she planted the coke on her.
rafe is stunned into silence. he looks down at her, “you did that for me?” his voice is uncharacteristically soft.
she looks up at him through her eyelashes. “i’d do anything for you.”
bestie!kook might be a nepo baby but she works for her money. she has her own business doing hair and opened up outer banks's first beauty supply store at 19. her grandma thought her when she was young cause she hated having to wait on her to book (mostly home) appointments, with her busy schedule.
bestie!kook and kelce are like siblings in the way they argue. a lot of the figure eight residents also think they’re related but that’s something else entirely. he was her first friend in obx after all and is one if the few black kids in figure eight.
bestie!kook cleans up her diy hair station in her living room as kelce follows her around.
“if you’re gonna be here you might as well help.” she shoves a large container of hair into his hands. he looks down at it and back up at her, she’s already moved onto another location.
he catches up to her easily. she curses his long legs internally. “what about the friend discount?”
“doesn’t apply to you after you broke my fucking vanity.”
he pouts. “how long are you gonna hold that against me?”
“forever. don’t ask me stupid questions.”
“okay if not for me then do it for my sister.”
“that’s not fair.”
“she really wants to look good for her eight grade formal and i know it’s last minute so i’ll pay extra.”
he gives her his best puppy dog eyes. she looks disgusted.
she rolls her eyes and sighs, “fine. but only ‘cause i love your sister.”
“yes!” he gives her his best boyish smiles, “and i know you love me too.”
“please. you’re lucky i don’t gut you with this comb.”
“jesus.”
bestie!kook who puts up a wall to stop people from getting too close because she believes when you let people in that’s when you get hurt. rafe changes that for her
bestie!kook and rafe being so close is a surprise to everyone in town until they get to know her. they’re the same but different. he trusts her more than anyone else, it’s why he tells her everything from his mom leaving when he was young to killing peterkins
bestie!kook whose fashion can be described in five words; bright colors and mini skirts
bestie!kook who is always the best dressed at midsummer and always goes with rafe
year 1
year 2
year 3
year 4
year 5
year 6
year 7
bestie!kook goes to the main land a lot cause the local shops just don’t have what she wants and brings rafe along nine times out of ten
rafe and bestie!kook planned their shopping day to the mainland weeks in advance. it was the perfect date. emphasis on 'was'. topper joined last minute because he was in a bad mood after sarah made him look stupid. again.
bestie!kook runs around the shop like a kid in a candy store picking up dresses, tops, shorts, and skirts and putting them in her cart.
"rafe!" she runs over to rafe and shows him her newest find. "isn't this the cutest?"
rafe smirks, "you gonna model it for me."
she bites her lower lip, "maybe if you’re good"
he chuckles as she skips away. he looks to his left and spots his friend frowning. "what?"
topper jumps slightly like a kid who's been caught taking extra halloween candy. "nothing."
his passivity has always irritated rafe, "just spit it out. i don't want you sulking for the rest of the day."
topper takes a deep breath, preparing himself to speak and for rafe's reaction. “i’m just saying man no disrespect to you or her but i wouldn’t let my girl leave the house wearing shit like that.”
“damn this is hard. listen to the man who got cheated on and punked in front of a crowd and called me crying about it and begging for my help at 3 a.m. or keep doing what i'm doing." rafe pretends to be deep in thought, tapping his chin and furrowing his brows. “i think i’m good.”
topper frowns, "you said you wouldn't bring that up again."
bestie!kook and rafe’s relationship is the topic of many discussions, people don’t know if they’re just friends, dating, or friends with benefits. the main questioners are the camerons and topper the topic usually comes up at breakfast which ward mandates a family event.
bestie!kook whose boyfriend best friend rafe has scary dog privileges. he’ll fight anyone, girls included he doesn’t give a fuck.
bestie!kook loves getting high with rafe cause they balance each other out. she gets all deep in thought and philosophical and he gets pathetic and horny.
bestie!kook, smoking leisurely: you know… while i was away, when i felt down… i would climb up to my roof and look to the stars. it was comforting knowing you were under the same stars. 400 miles away with the same constellations, isn't that crazy?
rafe, on his third line, pupils so dilated he looks like an excited kitten: can yuo put that out on me?
bestie!kook loves partying with rafe, whether it’s a party thrown by one of them, their friends, or a boneyard party they’re there one never far from the other
rafe doesn’t dance. it’s not that he can’t he’s just not into it. at parties he’s either selling, drinking, or doing coke. unless he’s with bestie!kook. she's sitting on his lap while he counts money. he's doing a line off her tits and he's placing an ecstasy pill on her tongue. she’s dragging him to the dance floor. slow dancing leads to grinding which leads to one of them dragging the other to a private area and coming back 30 minutes later with ruffled clothes and hair.
bestie!kook who uses rafe’s need for approval and complex maternal issues to combat being on the receiving end of his misogyny make sure she comes out unscathed compared to the other women in his life
rafe comes to her after melting the cross. it's almost midnight when she answers the aggressive knocking and sees a bloody rafe.
“oh my god.” he pushes past her into the house muttering something to himself. she closes the door and follows after him, “rafe.” he continues pacing and muttering like he doesn’t hear her. “rafe!”
“it’s all my fault. everyone’s gonna know. they’re gonna- just gotta- gotta fix it i can’t fix it.”
“rafe!” he snaps out of his daze and finally meets her eyes. there’s blood around his mouth and bruises on his hand.
“what happened?”
“um..” he sniffs and wipes at his nose. “i tried to fix it.” his voice cracks, barely hiding the sadness in his voice. “i tried i did but i- i just made it worse.”
she holds her arms out. he melts into her arms and shrinks himself down to fit in her hold. “i’m sorry.”
she caresses his head. “hey it’s okay. it’s okay.”
bestie!kook is 99% positive rafe does not like women. he’s definitely attracted to them but she doesn’t think he views them as people. over the years she’s noticed that rafe puts women into two categories; caretakers and objects of desire
bestie!kook doesn’t strictly fall into either category so it breaks his brain a little bit trying to figure out how he should treat her which leads to many of their fights
they're at a party a when he pulls her off the dance floor and away from her dancing partner and takes her to an empty room.
"what the fuck rafe!?" she screams as she watches his lock the door.
he stalks towards her, “so what you’re just throwing yourself at any guy who’s nice to you?”
“fuck you rafe! you’re just mad he had the guts to admit what you’ve been thinking all these years.”
he scoffs, “is that what you think? huh?” he chuckles and moves closer, every time he takes a step forward she takes a step back. “yeah i bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? you know i thought you were a nice girl but you’re just like every other slut in this party.”
“i’m not talking to you. not when you’re being like this.”
“like what?”
“an asshole! i don’t like talking to you when you’re being an asshole, rafe. okay?”
he chuckles coldly, “what you think you’re better than me?”
his movements are twitchy, scratching his ear one second and rubbing his head the next and his pupils are dilated.
she frowns, he's really high right now. "look i don't have time for this back and forth bullshit okay?"
he frowns, "it's not bullshit okay and and i just i don’t get you. you lose your shit when i talk to a girl but here you are doing worse. do you know how it makes me look? my best friend dry humping some guy on the dance floor?”
“of course it’s about you. it’s always back to being about you. you’re so fucking selfish!”
“hey!” he grabs her face, squeezes her cheeks with his hand. “you think you’re better than me is that it?”
she scratches at his hand and pushes at his chest but when he’s high he’s like a whole different being. “let go.”
“i’m just trying to figure out what your end goal is.”
“stop it rafe!” she pushes him away, tears in her eyes and fire the first time she looks genuinely afraid of him. that sobers him up real quick.
“i’m sorry.” he reaches out to her but she slaps his hand away.
“fuck you rafe.” she storms past him, leaving him stewing in self hatred and regret.
bestie!kook who lets him in when he apologizes the next day like clockwork saying the usual right things
“i’m sorry. i was high and-”
“you said some really hurtful things rafe.”
“i know.”
she can’t stay mad at him, not when he gets on his knees and begs for her forgiveness. begs her not to leave him.
bestie!kook who is an icon to many of obx’s young women. she doesn’t take shit from anyone. especially not men.
“hey jj, she said she doesn’t want the drink fuck off.”
“well if it isn’t the future mrs cameron. shouldn’t you be busy buying his coke or something?”
“so funny! hey stop me if you’ve heard this one, white trash pogue joins father in jail after forcing sketchy beverage on sarah cameron, daughter of prominent figure of the community?”
“fuck you.”
“byyeeee.” she smiles and wiggles her fingers while waving. she turns back to sarah, “sorry about that.”
sarah looks at her in awe, “thanks, sorry you had to do that.”
“please, we girls gotta look out for each other. plus you could put in a good word for me with your brother.”
“my god.”
bestie!kook whose relationship with the camerons is all over the place. rafe is her favorite but sarah is her biggest supporter (after rafe of course). she often lends an ear to her when she fights with rafe though she’s not the most helpful and her bias shows.
it’s 1 a.m. on a saturday when bestie!kook sees topper’s instagram story and spotted rafe in the background with his tongue down some girl’s throat. she sits on her bed crying while gianna and sarah comfort her.
“i told you he wasn’t shit.”
sarah nods, “gianna’s right, you deserve better”
gianna sobs harder, “why didn’t i call tiffany?”
“because you wanted the truth not to be coddled.”
bestie!kook continues crying as sarah rubs her shoulder.
“hey he’s a dick.”
“he’s your brother sarah.”
“which is why i know it better than anyone.”
bestie!kook who treats wheezie like the little sister she’s always wanted. rafe says she spoils her but she doesn’t care she finds the girl absolutely adorable.
she takes wheezie out for a girls day filled with ice cream, shopping, and fireworks watching. all good things can’t last long though which is why rafe calls her while she’s out with wheezie. she answers the phone cheerfully, “hi rafe.”
“i miss you.” she can almost hear his pout over the phone.
“i miss you too. but i promised wheezie i’d take her out for ice cream.”
“you spoil her. it’s why she acts like that..”
she rolls her eyes. “look i gotta go, my favorite cameron’s calling me.”
“haha. wait do you really mean that? hello!?”
“bye rafe.”
bestie!kook and ward’s relationship is a bit strained, he likes her but he worries about her impact on his son’s fragile state and her hold over him. he’s like a wise father figure with a sketchy past and present.
bestie!kook who is actually sweet to rafe. everyone notices the way she is seeing others vs the way she acts around him. goes from ambivalent god to schoolgirl in love
he comes to her often crying about ward’s mistreatment and distrust. when ward kicks him out he goes to her.
“you shouldn’t be just tell me to fuck off. i’m more trouble then it’s worth.”
she frowns, “don’t say that that’s not true.”
he sniffles and shakes his head. she doesn’t know how to help him, she hates seeing him in pain like this. she slowly and gently reaches out to him and grabs his hand. she feels him tense and gives his hand a soft squeeze,. “you’ll always have me. i’m on your side.”
that’s exactly what he needed to hear.
bestie!kook and rose don’t get along much. rose is very passive aggressive and bestie!kook is very blunt. unstoppable force immovable object.
bestie!kook notices rafe’s coke use is becoming more frequent ever since he came back from the bahamas. she wants to help rafe get better but there’s only so much she can do. people (ward and rose) often forget she’s just a kid, she loves rafe but love isn’t enough to save him.
“mrs. cameron-”
“please no need for formalities you’re practically family. call me rose.”
“okay rose. i’m not gonna beat around the bush cause i respect you. i think rafe should go to rehab.”
“what?”
“it’s on the mainland and i know it seems sudden and all but i’ve noticed him getting worse and i’m scared that- that if we don’t act now. before we know it- it’ll be too late and i- i don’t wanna lose him.”
her voice catches in her throat as she thinks of rafe’s declining mental state and growing drug use. rose hugs her and softly rubs her back.
“hey hey it’s okay it’s okay. you really love him.”
she sniffles and nods. rose nods, “then don’t mention this to him. forget about it.”
“excuse me?”
“he’s going through a lot right now.”
“yeah no shit that’s why he needs this.”
“why now? hm? why the sudden change in heart?” when she doesn’t get an answer she scoffs, “you spend all this time going to parties, coming here at good knows when high out of your minds and now you care? why? cause it’s affecting you now?”
“that’s not true. i care about him.”
“then don’t do this to him. not now not while he’s in such a fragile state.”
she scoffs, “please. like you care. we all know this isn’t him its about preserving great cameron name and its bullshit legacy.”
“keep your fucking voice down.” she glares at the girl. “you have some nerve coming to our house with this holier than thou bullshit. especially in our time of grief.”
she marches over to to the door and opens it, “i think it’s time for you to go.”
bestie!kook scoffs but walks to the door, not wanting to give the woman any more of her time. she glared at the woman, “if anything happens to him it’s on you.”
bestie!kook finds renfield’s dead body in the truck
she didn’t mean to truly. she was just worried about rafe and went looking for him in his own. he hadn’t been home for a while she wasn’t expecting him to be there, much less there with a dead body.
“it’s not what it looks like.”
she gasps, “rafe.”
“don’t scream.” breathing heavily, he looks at her lips then her eyes. “i didn’t kill him.”
she meets his eyes. “i believe you.”
his eyes widen in relief and shock. the upper corner of his mouth twitches up, the ghost of a smile. “i don’t why i ever doubted you.”
she looks back at the body and frowns. “what are we gonna do?”
“we?”
“if you think i’m gonna let you do this alone you really don’t know me.”
bestie!kook who is crushed when rafe leaves for guadeloupe. she stays in her room and cries believing that he’s gone for good. her friends and parents are worried at
bestie!kook who gets a knock on her door on her balcony window when she wakes up and runs to grab the gun she got after everything that went down with rafe and barry
she slowly approaches her window and opens her curtains with her gun drawn.
“hey.”
“rafe?” to say she’s shocked would be an understatement. “what the fuck are you doing here?” her tone hurts his chest but it doesn’t surprises him.
“i understand you’re mad.”
“understatement of the year.”
“but i can explain everything.”
“okay go.”
as far as explanations go. it’s not the worst excuse she’s ever heard. he pulls her into a tight hug. she could never stay mad at him for long.
“don’t ever leave me again.” it’s muffled into his chest.
“i won’t.”
————————————-———————————-
i really hope y’all liked this one it took me a minute. comment your thoughts, criticism is welcome as always but keep it classy. <3
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dcxdpdabbles · 13 days ago
Note
My request for Adoptive son got accidentally posted with a different response and then deleted a while back, so I've come back to see if you're willing to do a little of the Summoned Demon au instead? 🥺 pretty please? I keep hoping it'll come back up and I'm excited haha
Danny flies while blinking through his tears, trying his best to find the giant clown Alex has mentioned. He is unsure what will happen to the police officer's ghost now that he has been captured, and that sends his heart into turmoil.
Every part of his core wanted him to turn around to rescue Alex. It went against his very soul to run, but he could think rationally enough to know that if he did, nothing good would come of it.
At best, he would give Alex enough time to hide inside the building he was anchored to; at worst, both of them would be shipped off to some lab and ripped apart.
No. He couldn't save Alex, and couldn't let his sacerfice to help Danny escape go to waste.
He needed to regroup. Figure out a plan, establish communication, or do something to escape the crazy cultists. It didn't help that they obviously had connections with police who were hunting him down to return him.
Thankfully, Danny has some experience with escaping government bodies. Just as long as he keeps moving and uses his powers wisely, he should be able to find somewhere to catch his breath.
Danny wipes at his eyes, pushing himself to fly faster.
Thanks to his invisibility, no one notices his form fly over their heads. A steady flow of people moves underneath him, going through another mundane day. It's crowded, busy and noisy.
So different from the city of Amity Park. It's a jarring reminder that only this morning, he had been dreading his upcoming math exam, and now he was running for his life.
At least the hook feeling in his navel has lessened. Using Phantom's abilities didn't take as much effort as it did a few hours ago.
Likely, whatever that voice activation cell did was starting to lose effect. Based on how his body responded, it would be two or three hours before he would be back to full strength.
As he finished the thought, Danny felt his body grow heavy, as if a weight was suddenly thrown around his ankles.
With a shout of alarm, Danny plummeted downwards, struggling against the cruel grips of gravity. He felt his invisibility fall away just as he landed face first on the ground between an open of people.
The force of his face has him skitting against the pavement, tumbling over and over as screams from the started civilians echo through the crowd. Danny rolls three times before smacking against a pull, upside down, with his legs folded over near his head.
He groans. "That is going to leave so many bruises."
His healing factor was kicking in already working on easing the aching in his spine and face. Slowly, as to not agitate his wounds, he unfolds, bracing his hands on the ground, and leaps up.
When the world is right, he finds himself standing before a little metal fence separating the street from a restaurant's dining area. The two boys Danny saw at the cult are sitting at the table right in front of him.
They were the ones who were pleading with the other boy who clung to his legs. Danny blinks. "Oh, hello."
The one on the left, a ginger that reminds him surprisingly of Kyle Weston down to his choice of clothes, lets a blood-curdling scream before his eyes roll back into his head in a dead faint. Danny leaps over the fence, catching him before he hits the ground.
The other boy watches like a deer caught in headlights, frozen with absolute terror all over his face. The fork in his white knuckle grip is bending at a strange angle as he makes small whimpers, almost as if he's scared to talk.
Danny carefully sets the one he caught on the ground, ensuring his head is cushioned before tugging at his clothes. He unzips the hoodie the boy was wearing and pulls at his neck collar to ensure it's not bothering his breaking.
Only after ensuring that the boy is breathing correctly does Danny move down to carefully left up his legs, remembering the lessons his father taught him in case he ever witnessed someone faint.
The teenager sitting at the table starts to speak, sounding panicky, but Danny ignores him in favor of placing the Kyle-Wannabe's legs on the chair's cushion. He tugs on the ankles in his hold, making sure it's angled in a way that does not hurt him spin but can allow more blood flow to his head.
"Can someone please call an ambulance?" He demands of the watching crowd only to have the majority of them cower back. He makes a face, causing a waitress to flinch so hard she stumbles over a nearby table.
Right, they can't understand him. He raises his hand above his head, attempting to mimic the ambulance light while speaking slowly. "Am-bu-lance. wee-oww wee-oww?"
A child bursts into tears. Danny drops his hands, letting them hang loosely at his side. The sea of faces surrounding him is all edged with fear, which makes his stomach turn. "None of you understand me. You're scared of me."
"I'm not," A man says, stepping away from the crowd. His transparent body lets him know it's a ghost. That and the dripping cinder block chained to his legs, along with his flouting hair as if though he were underwater, are significant indicators of his death. "You're trying to get him to a hospital?"
"Yes!" Danny points at him, forgetting himself for a moment. The people standing behind the ghost scramble to get out of the path of his pointing.
The man tilts his head slightly. "What language are you speaking?"
"English?"
"Odd. It sounds different. I would know since I speak nine languages." The man grunts, his strange accent sounding like a melody to the ear were it not for the watery effect. It's sad how it affects his handsomeness, with the green and silver trimming of his suit and the snake necklace and rings he is wearing.
The ghost calmly flouts to a poster on the restaurant's wall a few steps away from Danny, knocking his knuckles against some symbols. "Point to this word, then the boy. That'll let the crowd know to get some medical attention."
Danny stares at him for a moment before the murder victim clears his throat impatiently, and it snaps him into action. Rushing over, he points to the words, then the Kyle-wannabee, and back again to the word. When the crowd continues to stare, Danny repeats the motion more urgently until the boy at the table finally catches on.
He pulls out a rectangular device from his pocket- the same one that girl had earlier this morning-tapping it with shaking fingers and speaking in rushed panic words.
The ghost at the poster nods approvingly. "Well done. Now, leave the scene before the authorities arrive."
"What?"
"I was an immigration lawyer in life. One of the only ones in this cursed city that actually gave a shit, and it got me killed. I know how they treat people who aren't from around here and how to help you when a language barrier gets in the way. Trust me, kid, it's better to get gone in this situation." As he speaks, the ghosts float back to Danny, shaking the chains around his feet for emphasis. There is a cold, calculating glint in his eye as he regards the silent crowd . "The panic will settle soon, and these people will form a mob. Get going."
Danny throws one last look at the unconscious boy before he realizes that the fear on people's faces hasn't lessened. It's growing, and he knows a witch hunt will start soon.
He's seen it before on the faces of Amity Park back when he was Inviza-Bill. He twists on his feet, running away with the lawyer flying behind him.
The older man gives out curt directions at every turn, slowly guiding him outside of the part of the city. Danny's legs are starting to burn when the sight of a large, broken-down amusement park comes into view.
The lawyer tells him which part of the fence board is loose enough for him to slide in and then instructs him to go to the fun house shaped like a giant clown head. Danny scrambles through the hole, hissing when a few loose nails catch on his skin, but he finally stumbles through, only to be overwhelmed by a new large and bustling crowd.
A crowd made of thousands of ghosts that walk or fly about without a care in the world. They are wearing various different eras of clothing, blending, and some have ghastly marks on their bodies, indicating their deaths.
The majority, however, are people with large, crazed smiles frozen on their faces. He gawks at all of them, not used to seeing so many of the dead in one place outside of the Ghost Zone.
"Don't just stand there with your mouth open." The lawyer snaps at Danny's back. "Get out of sight now!"
"Tom?" A woman in a gown that looks like she was present for the beheading of Marie Antonette steps in front of the drowned layer, Tom, with a look of confusion. "Who are you talking to?"
"Him." Tom nods his head at Danny, who offers the woman a wave. She reels back, opening her mouth like she's about to scream,m but Tom snaps forward, slapping a hand on her lips before she can. "Do not! What do you think will happen when all these murder victims realize he can communicate with them? He just escaped from being mobbed."
The man glances over his shoulder at Danny. "Go into the fun house. Act like you can't see or hear the rest of the ghosts. Walk through them if you have to."
"I can't," Danny whispers, his heart suddenly beating wildly. None of the ghosts noticed him, but that could change in a second. "Ghosts are solid to me. If I try to walk through them, we'll just end up bumping against each other."
Tom lets out a very put-upon sigh. "Then walk around them. Now go. It's not safe to talk in the open."
Danny knows Tom is helping him but feels vaguely threatened as he walks stiffly to the giant clown's head. He fights to keep his gaze straight, watching ghosts step out of his path while some flout closer, looking curious. He fights to not flinch at the ones with the enormous smile as if someone had cut them into their faces.
This is making his stomach turn.
"Who's this?" An older man asks Tom and the woman that follows him. His lips are pulled into two upturns, showing tight yellow teeth in a similar craze grin.
"Street kid," Tom grunts from somewhere behind him.
"He's likely looking for shelter from the cold." The woman adds, though her voice is slightly strained. "Tom wants to make sure he gets settled."
"Where is he going to?" The old man questions, his voice a little odd because he has to speak behind his teeth, trapped in a smile. "The only warm place here is the Joker's old place, and not even the dead go in there."
Danny ignores the old man's words, speed walking all the way to the entrance of the Fun House. He notices that various ghosts stop to watch him out of the corner of his eye as he finally passes the doorway into the building. Shaking his head, the old man lingers just a little outside of it. "Fool. Even if the Joker is not here, it's not a place to go."
Neither Tom nor the woman responds as they follow Danny inside. Tom is facing the wall when he mutters. "Close the door."
As soon as the wood seals shut, with a few ghosts lingering gaze trapped outside, Danny collapses on the floor, letting out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. "That was terrifying."
"What in the world is going on, Tom!" The woman hisses, apparently unable to hold back any longer while crossing her arms, "Who is this?"
Tom holds up a hand in her face, which makes her gasp in offense, but his eyes linger on Danny's crumbled form. " There is a dictionary tucked away in the third office. Go get it."
"What? Why?"
"Because we'll use that to help you communicate with the living locals. I can read, and you can point."
Danny's eyes widen. "That's a clever idea!"
"Of course it is. I'm one the cleverest men to walk this stupid city's streets." Tom smirks like the snakes he's wearing. "We don't have much time. Knowing the idiots of Gotham, Batman will be tipped off and on his way here as we speak."
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magical-reid · 12 days ago
Text
A New Hope
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Popular!Reader
Word Count: 1K
Summary: After Stiles unexpectedly scores the game-winning goal in a crucial lacrosse match, his reputation at school shifts, and your friends start pushing you toward him as a potential date. What starts as a reluctant agreement leads to a surprisingly fun evening, where you discover Stiles' sweet, genuine side, and before you know it, you're seriously considering a second date with the awkward yet endearing boy.
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The roar of the Beacon Hills High crowd was deafening, the stands alive with the kind of energy only a last-minute victory could bring. The lacrosse team had done the impossible—beating Devenford Prep in the final seconds. But the biggest shock of the night wasn’t the win.
It was who had secured it.
Stiles Stilinski.
The guy who spent more time warming the bench than actually playing had somehow been in the right place at the right time, scoring the game-winning goal. As the team hoisted him onto their shoulders and the crowd erupted in cheers, you stood on the sidelines with your friends, more baffled than anything else.
“Stiles Stilinski?” you muttered under your breath. “Seriously?”
But over the next few days, the school seemed to be collectively rewriting its perception of him. Suddenly, he wasn’t just the “weird” kid who couldn’t stop talking or tripping over his own feet. He was the underdog hero, the quirky player who’d saved the day.
That was how you found yourself sitting at your usual lunch table, staring blankly at Lydia Martin as she grinned at you like she’d just hatched a foolproof plan.
“Okay, hear me out,” Lydia began, leaning forward conspiratorially. “You and Stiles. It’s perfect.”
You blinked, fork hovering over your salad. “Come again?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Lydia said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “You and Stiles. A date. Trust me—it’ll be fun.”
You frowned, shaking your head. “Lydia, he’s… not really my type.”
Lydia’s grin didn’t falter for a second. “You don’t have a type. And Stiles is sweet. Funny. Smart.”
“And kind of adorable,” Allison chimed in, smiling. “In that awkward-but-endearing way.”
“He’s also the weird kid who used to do that thing with the Jello during lunch,” you reminded them, raising an eyebrow.
Lydia waved a dismissive hand. “That was, like, freshman year. He’s changed. And honestly? You need someone who’ll actually treat you well. Stiles is exactly that kind of guy.”
“And if I say no?” you challenged, though your tone lacked conviction.
“Then I’ll remind you that I covered for you during that Chem lab incident,” Lydia said sweetly, her smile sharp. “Remember?”
You sighed. “Fine. One date. One.”
The day of the date came faster than you’d expected, and before you knew it, Stiles was pulling into your driveway in his blue Jeep. You hesitated before climbing in, giving yourself a mental pep talk. This was just a group hangout. You could survive one night.
“Uh, hi,” Stiles greeted when you got in, his nervous smile immediately betraying how much this meant to him. “You, uh… you look really nice.”
“Thanks,” you replied, startled by the sincerity in his tone.
The drive to the diner was mostly quiet, though Stiles kept stealing glances at you like he couldn’t believe you were there. When you arrived, the rest of the group was already waiting at a booth near the back.
“Hey, you two!” Lydia greeted cheerfully, sliding over to make room.
You took the seat next to her, and Stiles sat across from you, flanked by Scott and Jackson. It wasn’t long before the group began its obvious—and borderline embarrassing—campaign to talk Stiles up.
“He’s basically the reason we won the game,” Scott said casually, nudging Stiles with his elbow.
“Not to mention he’s got this, like, weird savant thing with math,” Allison added.
“And he’s surprisingly good at trivia,” Lydia said. “He’s the reason we didn’t lose that trivia night at Jungle.”
Stiles was practically squirming in his seat, his cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment. You leaned back, taking it all in with a raised eyebrow. “You guys are really going all in on this, huh?”
Lydia grinned. “Just trying to make sure you know what a catch he is.”
For his part, Stiles seemed determined to live up to their praise. He opened every door for you, pulled out your chair before you could even reach for it, and insisted on paying for your milkshake—despite your protests.
“You really don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he said firmly, holding his ground. “It’s… I don’t know. The right thing to do?”
His earnestness caught you off guard. Most guys you hung out with didn’t bother with stuff like this, let alone insist on it.
At some point during the night, Lydia grabbed your arm and dragged you toward the bathroom, Allison and another girl following close behind.
“So?” Lydia asked the moment the door shut. “What do you think?”
You crossed your arms, shrugging like it was no big deal. “What do I think about what?”
“About Stiles,” Allison clarified, leaning against the counter. “You’re, like, actually having fun, right?”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t lie,” Lydia interrupted. “You were smiling when he told that ridiculous story about Scott falling off the roof. And you’ve been laughing at his jokes.”
“I smile all the time,” you argued weakly, though the flush in your cheeks betrayed you.
“Not like this,” Lydia said knowingly. “You like him, don’t you?”
“I—” You hesitated, looking between the girls as they stared you down. “He’s… different. I didn’t expect this.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
You bit your lip, unable to answer.
Back at the table, Stiles was in the middle of an animated Star Wars discussion with Scott and Jackson.
“And, like, there’s no way anyone can say Greedo shot first. It’s just—”
“Actually,” you interrupted, your voice cutting through the chatter, “the debate exists because Lucas changed it in the Special Edition. In the original 1977 release, Han shot first. That’s why people were so mad.”
The table went silent.
Every head turned toward you, and Stiles stared at you like you’d just solved the world’s greatest mystery.
“You… know that?” he asked, his voice almost reverent.
You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant despite the attention. “What? Just because I don’t wear a Star Wars shirt doesn’t mean I don’t know stuff.”
Stiles blinked, then blurted out, “Marry me.”
The table erupted into laughter, but you couldn’t stop looking at him—or the way his face lit up when you smiled back.
“Maybe ask me on a second date first,” you teased.
The grin that spread across his face made it clear: he absolutely would.
Part 2
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kheta · 3 months ago
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2 for 1 Genres
Thriller-Mystery: Young Justice is missing. They've been missing for two months and no one noticed. The League is devastated and panicked as multiple members try and look for their proteges and family members. The BatFam are enraged and feel stupid to have not noticed Tim was missing sooner, angry that they didn't check in sooner. The Arrows are walking a tightrope, not knowing how much they can do to help without compromising Cissie's strong boundaries, but also unwilling to step-back from rescuing one of their own, even if she's been distant for years at this stage. The Flashes are resigned to Bart disappearing, though the rest of yj being missing is definitely heightening their anxiety. Superman is quietly guilty for not noticing Kon's absence as abnormal, while Jon is giving his dad the silent treatment because he knew something was up and is mad that Clark didn't believe him and mad that he didn't look into it anyway. Wonder Woman is upset that she hadn't realised Cassie had vanished, but has quiet faith that the team will manage to survive until the League manages to find them. It's a desperate push against the clock as the mentors juggle their everyday disasters with their efforts to look for the team, especially because all of these mentors are also maybe 100% going to butt heads as they play the blame game, struggling to reconcile their guilt when the mission is a lot more personal, with no clear cut villain to blame. Comedic-Hi-jinks: Meanwhile, the YJ crew have all been kidnapped. Kidnapped by a bored and lonely Bart Allen, who was sick of all the failed reunion plans and jealous of the fact that literally everyone got to spend time with each other except him. (no, going to see them one on one doesn't count guys! their a team, a family, they deserve more than just occasional face-times and drop-ins) Honestly the little pocket dimension they ended up in was surprisingly neat and child-friendly, so Anita's not too mad at being kidnapped. There's even some small fry's she gets to deal with and a hand picked group of perfectly available baby-sitters who she trusts with her life, all on hand, unable to say no when she leaves her not-parents in their care. Cissie's a little worried because she definitely has some work things to look after, but this mini vacays actually been a good time to unwind, even if she was a bit mad that Bart gave her no time to prep and Tim gave her absolutely no heads up. And despite his arguments, she knows Tim had expected this to happen. Bart was way too put together after getting Tim, no bruises, no scolding and no glitter bombs in sight. Kon, Tim and Cassie meanwhile are just vibing, brains off as they meander through this little pocket dimension. Nothing was gonna stop Bart from doing this and at least he's relented to a three day adventure instead of the week long one he had initially planned. Greta is a little worried, because things are going surprisingly well on this little excursion and that's way too weird, but she loves being with her friends again, so she's really hoping the worry is unwarranted. Bart feels like he's forgotten something, but for the life of him he can't think of what he may have forgotten. He has his friends, he found the perfect, most harmless pocket dimension and he even remembered to set the YJ code to show they had gone out on a mission. (Bart definitely forgot to do the time math. He was going to do it, honest! He just got a bit too excited. And maybe a bit too annoyed at Cissie hogging Greta and Cassie's time. But only very slightly annoyed.)
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