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theawkwardanglophile · 2 years ago

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TheAwkwardAnglophile's Year in TV shows: 2022

It seems I've started a tradition, and even though I know only very few people will actually see or read this, it's still fun to put together. This is my third time doing this. Feel free to check out my lists for 2021 and 2020 as well.

My criteria for shows making the list is the show either aired new content in 2022, or I'd never watched it before. So, while I did several rewatches, those didn't count. Also, beware: SPOILERS ABOUND! Here's the list in alphabetical order:

Abbott Elementary: What a perfect little sitcom that just stormed onto the scene after so many beloved sitcoms had gone off the air the last few years. They deserve all the accolades! It is genuinely hilarious. Ava probably makes me laugh harder than any of them, and of course I'm here for Janine and Gregory.

Andor: Holy crap, I was not expecting to be drawn into this show as much as I was. What a brilliant deep dive into the Star Wars universe. So many layers and subtleties to it. Luthen's monologue BLEW ME AWAY, and I looooved the prison escape. You get such a better understanding of how terrifyingly far the Empire's reach went.

Baymax: I was expecting a full-blown series, so I was very disappointed to find only 6 short episodes that were only a few minutes long. However, it was more Baymax, which is always a good thing. I think my favorite was the episode Kiko, which had Mrs. Kim from Gilmore Girls (Emily Kuroda)!

Blockbuster: I know it got cancelled, but I actually kind of enjoyed it. It wasn't the best, but it had potential. There were a few genuinely funny moments for me, and I think the episode where they do inventory was my favorite.

The Book of Boba Fett: Ok, so I know there are a lot of Fett fans out there from the past 40 years, but I'm indifferent to Boba. But I found a lot to enjoy in this show. I liked watching Boba connect with the Tusken Raiders. However, the pacing and structure were terrible, Fennec was underutilized, and the Mos Espa "power rangers" left me scratching my head. The BEST PART of it all was the Mandalorian season 2.5 they snuck in there! Watching Grogu with Luke, seeing what Mando had been up to, and the most beautiful father/son reunion!! MY HEART. Sorry you got sidelined in your own show, Boba, but the Mando eps were WIZARD.

Call Me Kat: I'm still watching, still enjoying, but this show is kind of a mixed bag sometimes. I was not happy with how everything went down with Oscar. He was such a sweetheart! Am I happy Kat and Max have become a couple? Yeah, I guess, but I think it could've been done differently. Also, it won't be the same now without the lovely Leslie Jordan, RIP.

Derry Girls: Loved the final season. It's so quirky and fascinating and hilarious. The parents' high school reunion was absolute GOLD.

Dream Home Makeover: It's definitely one of those shows that you question why you're watching, yet you can't turn away. I don't want to like it. The couple is just odd together sometimes, and everything was shown out of order! One minute she was pregnant and then she wasn't, but then they'd go back to her being pregnant!

Emily in Paris: Season 3 was pretty good, although I found Emily a bit grating. I was worried they were going to make the whole season about her shenanigans working for both companies, but thankfully that got resolved quickly. Luc is still such a delight, and Sylvie has even grown on me. Gabriel and Alfie are still 🔥🔥.

Hawkeye: I watched this at the beginning of '22, so it's a bit fuzzy now, but it was enjoyable. Not quite at the level of some of the other Marvel shows (like Loki or Wandavision) but still pretty fun.

History 101: A fascinating little documentary series! I was hooked. Each episode was about a very specific topic and was brilliantly done.

Home Economics: This sitcom is pretty fun. I've always loved Topher Grace (although oddly enough I never watched That 70's Show 🙈), and he still nails awkward comedy. All the family dynamics are fun to watch, the kids are cute. And the Spiderman joke when they were at Disneyland had me ROLLING.

The Home Edit: I devour these episodes whenever they drop, and then I want to revamp my entire house, and life. I love organization, plus Joanna and Clea make everything fun to watch.

How I Met Your Father: I was SUPER skeptical about this one, and maybe still am a bit (HIMYM fans, you understand). But I ended up enjoying it more than I thought. I need to watch the last ep again to prep for the upcoming season 2, because I've forgotten a lot. I'm curious to see where it goes.

Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous: The last season was wild, and I COULD NOT STAND Kenji's dad. The woooooorst. Shipped Brooklynn and Kenji, and happy Yaz and Sammy found happiness together. The ending was very satisfying for everyone!

Moon Knight: Oh DANG, what a ride. So many moments I'm like, "WHAAAAAAT am I even watching?!" But it was a fun, trippy adventure, and Oscar Isaac deserves all the awards.

Name That Tune: Always fun. I slay at this game.

Never Have I Ever: I just LOVE this show. Season 3 was another stellar season, and I am still definitely Team Ben! That ending! And the show still makes me cry, especially the scene with Devi and her mom in the finale. 😭

Obi-Wan: I know this wasn't as well received as was hoped, but I enjoyed it. Young Leia was fantastic! Lola, too (I have adopted her in my club of beloved droids). The story worked, and the Vader/Obi-Wan showdown was pretty amazing. The last 20 minutes of the finale was just a giant checklist of fan service, but honestly, I'm not complaining.

Only Murders in the Building: LOVE LOVE LOVE. This show is so incredible, and season 2 didn't disappoint! It's smart, hilarious, and I love the intro music so much. The intros were actually made even better by each one being slightly different with something related to that particular episode.

The Orville: If this journey for The Orville is truly at an end, then they sent it off well. A satisfying ending. I think the supersized episodes didn't work as well as their punchier 40-minute eps, but man, when they go big they go BIG. Incredibly well done topics, and the effects! INSANE. I swear Hulu must have kept just dumping money on them, like "Go ahead and make whatever effects you want!"

Paper Girls: This was...weird. I went through most of this going, "WHAT AM I EVEN WATCHING?" Obviously I loved all the retro vibes, and I was curious enough in the story to stick it out, but that was about it. It got pretty dark at times, and I thought the language, while warranted, got excessive enough at times to detract from the story. Anyway, if they were trying to capture the magic of Stranger Things, it didn't work, and it got cancelled anyway.

The Rookie: MY HEART! MY OTP. MY BEST SHIP AND SHIPPING EXPERIENCE EVER. My obsession with Chenford has exploded even more, as any of my followers can clearly tell. I love Tim and Lucy SO MUCH, and watching them become canon has been INCREDIBLE. But also, the show itself has stepped up its game in S5. The plots are better, more balanced, and I love all the different relationships shown. Making Thorsen a regular was a fantastic decision. The social media team has been killing it. And the show has gained tons of viewers and fans. We are truly in the golden age of The Rookie.

The Rookie: Feds: I like the show, but don't love it...yet. Maybe I will? It is done well, but it's just there. I watch it when I get around to it. Garza and Laura are probably my fave characters. I do like Simone, but she's also a lot. And I say this only because it's the FBI and there must be some kind of dress code, she should probably cover up the girls more. I swear she's going to end up having a wardrobe malfunction.

School of Chocolate: Pretty fascinating little chocolate-making competition.

Star Trek: Discovery: S4 was kind of a mixed bag. I'm not sure it was as memorable as previous seasons. I hate Tilly left. I did like that there was a running thread throughout of identity and belonging, and mental health. My FAVORITE part was how they found a way to communicate with Species Ten-C. Some brilliant television.

Star Trek: Lower Decks: S3 was ok, not my favorite, but it's still funny. My fave moment actually came in the DS9 ep. The background swing music at Quark's is actually from a band that my mom does booking for, Denver & the Mile High Orchestra, and for other personal reasons I won't go into here, that moment meant a lot to me.

Star Trek: Picard: Insert Picard facepalm here. I wanted S2 to work so badly, and be amazing, and it just wasn't. I mean it had Q and time travel and all the ingredients for something incredible, and it still didn't work. It would take too long to hash it all out here, but if anyone wants to vent with me, I'm around. I am excited (and nervous) for S3, however! I hope they don't let me down.

Star Trek: Prodigy: I still love the animation, and the kids are fun. I'm gonna be real honest, though. I'm mainly here for Janeway and Chakotay, because no, I'm still not over how Voyager ended, and if an animated kids show will let me see more of these two, I will take whatever I can get.

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds: Before I go any further, may I just point out the amazing WONDER that FIVE different Star Trek series aired new content in 2022?! A new record! The Trekaissance is real. This show exceeded my expectations. It's so different, yet still so classic Star Trek style. The characters are great, and the intro is incredible! I cry at that intro. It's sweeping and gorgeous and ahhhhh.

Stranger Things: I've loved Stranger Things from the beginning, was excited for S4, but when I watched 4x01 I almost gave it up. It felt so dark and depressing, and the scene at the end was horrifying. I put it off for a couple weeks before deciding to try again, and I slowly worked my way through the rest of the season. There were still parts I couldn't watch (I really don't do horror, Stranger Things was always about as far as I would go, but then they really upped the horror in S4, much to my dismay), but ultimately I'm glad I did watch, although unlike the rewatchability of S1-S3, I'm not sure I can go through S4 in its entirety again. But there were some BEAUTIFUL moments we got, lots of laughs, lots of emotions. All the reunions in Vol. 2! El seeing Hopper again 😭. And my absolute favorite part...JOPPER IS CANON!!

Supermarket Sweep: Always a lot of fun. Sad that it won't be back.

Young Sheldon: It's losing steam, but I'm still watching. The whole storyline with Georgie has been interesting.

And there you have it! 33 shows in all, which is probably a record for me. Feel free to message me or send an ask if you want to further chat about any of these. If you read this far, YOU ARE A ROCKSTAR AND I APPRECIATE YOU.

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animehouse-moe · 2 years ago

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Konosuba: An Explosion On This Wonderful World! Episode 1: The Crimson-Eyed Wizards

The deranged explosion specialist, Megumin, is the first of her party to grace our screens in nearly 4 years now. A large gap (though not quite a decade like some other series), a prequel story, the third studio for the anime series. The cards are quite stacked against it, no? Well, through perseverance, chance, or some matter of fate, Megumin not only makes it to our screens again (and before Kazuma), but does so in impressive fashion. So, where to begin?

Maybe I'll address the changes first. Konosuba is under new direction (and storyboarding), found in Abe Yuujirou. A relative newcomer to series director, they've got a good few credits under their belt for episode direction. The biggest (and most important) being Kaguya-Sama. In total, they only did 4 episodes from S1+S2, but I think the impact of being an episode director for Kaguya-Sama is plain as day.

Visual comedy is an important aspect of both titles, so having worked on such a visually creative show beforehand gives me a lot of confidence in Yuujirou's approach. Sure, it might be a little "flat" at times, as in it opts for a lot of 2 dimensional scenes, but I think there's plenty of moments that help accentuate the comedy of various interactions, like this one.

Though to temper expectations, I'd still caution at the fact that it's not stellar direction on all fronts, as more often than not you'll get a "left-right" representation of a scene, almost like a stage play.

I'm a pretty big advocate for avoiding this sort of thing when you have (an imaginary) 3D space to work with. I wouldn't say it's the end of the world, but it's like the bare minimum in a two-way conversation for showing their involvement.

At the end of the day though, I don't think it really gets in the way of the visual comedy, and even sometimes, the more lax layouts can help with it. Take this scene for example. It's pretty straightforward, but does it job of showing how comically large the school is in comparison to the number of students that it takes in.

I guess to put a cork in my waffling, the overall direction and storyboarding isn't quite as outstanding as I'd hoped, but at the end of the day it ends up aiding quite well in the delivery of the overall comedy. The heart of the Crimson Demons of course is what runs away with the episode, and we get a lot of that on display in almost exclusively a flashy nature.

But oddly enough, the core of the Crimson Demons isn't near as much a driving force as Kazuma's ability to parody isekai anime. Sure, it dominates the episode and brings about the vast majority of the best parts, but peeling back that façade you get a more genuine approach with characters as well. Just little bits and pieces that keep the ball rolling and help Megumin find her way to being an explosion specialist.

And of course, who could say no to an explosion to cap the episode off?

Well apparently, Drive.

Overall, I think with tempered expectations, this first episode back is a treat. Its comedy hits just right, the visual effects look ridiculously cool still, and Takahashi Rie is killing it as Megumin once more. With the change in course towards a more fleshed out and directed story, I think there is certainly bumps in the road that stop it from being really great, but that's tertiary to the main point of watching this. You want funny and hilariously overpowered chuuni magic users as the main course, it's just that you get a little bit of story as a side dish.

#konosuba #Kono Subarashii Sekai ni Bakuen wo!#この素晴らしい世界に爆焔を!#kono subarashii sekai ni shukufuku wo!#yunyun #megumin #rie takahashi #anime recommendation #anime review #anime and manga #anime

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ladyravenjadethe2nd · 3 months ago

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Spoilers for Part One of If Wishes were Kisses

This fic is called Baby Making and it's already posted on Ao3

People are being reincarnated by age so Hisoka is first. Hisoka's story is humor. It starts with the UA graduation party. After the war everyone had like a month or two of schooling before the heroic's course was allowed to graduate on time.

They got a ton of extra credit after all.

Mina spikes the punch. Kaminari gets very drunk and has a one night stand with Hatsume.

9 months later Hatsume is like 'I have a baby for you!' and Kaminari is like 'Great cool tech stuff!', but it's Hisoka as a baby.

Hatsume is not a mother. She was so busy she didn't notice she was pregnant until it was too late to have an abortion so she had the kid, signed away her rights and chucked him at Kaminari as fast as possible.

Kaminari after freaking out is enchanted with the baby with Hatsume's pink hair and his own yellow eyes and decides that he is going to Father so hard!

It's pretty damn funny if I do say so myself.

Hisoka is the first baby born to the war survivors. Everyone loves him no matter how weird he is. He has a million aunts and uncles.

This new world is actually pretty interesting for Hisoka. Being a baby sucks, but he has a new world, power system, and tons of attention. If he wasn't so 'unripe' and depraved of murder he would be pretty happy.

Hisoka is impressively in character with creepy and murderous thoughts while coming to like his new found family. It's oddly wholesome.

Kaminari moves in with Bakugou and Kirishima who are together and Hisoka's interactions with Bakugou are fantastic.

Bakugou has sadism as a charterer trait so when Hisoka gets a bit older and starts killing things Bakugou takes that in hand pretty well.

They go on monthly hiking trips where Hisoka murders animals and Bakugou makes sure he's enrolled in a ton of actives like dancing, swimming, gymnastics, etc.in order to keep him from committing murder.

This does work....for a time. At some point he does get old enough to get away with murder. I don't have an exact time frame for when this happens, but he does go full murder clown at some point.

Hisoka does learn to love his new family so he's careful not to get caught. He only kills Mineta out of all the cannon characters so it's a really an improvement for him.

His quirk is Bungee Gum and he can use a form of Texture Surprise with it. Most characters have to deal with quirks from their parents, but his is too iconic.

I know his time in school with Illumi is going to be hilarious, but I don't have it all worked out yet. I'm also not sure what career I want him to have.

Being a Pro Hero would be hilarious, but he gets along well with Bakugou's fashion designer mom and he is a designer in a lot of AUs so could go either way.

I see his part ending when he is in his 20s. I'd like him and Illumi to become an 'official thing', but their relationship is a bit odd. I don't see them being in 'love' or in 'lust', but obsessed with each other anyway.

I plan to stick to the humor genre for this story. You could call it crack with plot. Any deaths will be funny. No sex scenes will occur though it may be implied.

To go back to the real purpose of the wish I think he will 'do right by' Killua. He has often helped the boys in the show so I expect him to be in and out of their lives in the same creepily helpful way he always is.

How exactly did he wrong Killua? I mean he wrongs all minors by looking at them so I feel like Hisoka being Hisoka is just enough to cover the requirements of the wish.

Just to be perfectly clear he is mostly going to be lusting over the very powerful adults he knows while he is a child so it's not as creepy as cannon, but still creepy. Also I'll never imply he has sex with a child though I will imply he tries to have sex with a teacher while he's in school and underage, but fails at it.

It's in character for him be horny on main, but luckily everyone will know he's the son of a top hero so that should make most adults too wary to try their luck.

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfiction #fanfic #hunter x hunter #hunterxhunter #mha #hisoka morow

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izzy-mc-fizzy · 5 months ago

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I just found out there’s a whole fan community on tumblr dedicated to speed racer (2008) and idk why I’m surprised but I am and I’m absolutely NOT here to shit on anyone’s favorite movie or anything it’s just that I personally find the movie absurd and ridiculous but this post isn’t about my own opinions of speed racer it’s about a hilarious story related to the first time I watched it

So I first saw the 2008 speed racer movie when my very drunk friend insisted we all watch it together at a little group game night, it should be noted that out of the 5 of us 2 were drunk and 1 was stoned. I was sober bc I had to drive home that evening.

So you can imagine what it was like to watch this rollercoaster of a movie stone cold sober in a room full of drunk people. me and my friend Madz, the only other sober person there, kept trying to figure out the relevance of the monkey. To this day I still have no clue what chim chims whole deal was.

An important note to this story is that we though my stoned friend, sterling, had fallen asleep before the movie even started.

So the movie ends right and me and all my friends decide to call it a night and sterling asks me if I could give him a ride home as we lived in the same neighborhood and he was still pretty sufficiently baked

So we’re driving home in comfortable silence for around 10 minutes. I’d like to set the scene for you: it’s quiet and dark, well passed midnight at this point, on a back country highway lined with nothing but crop fields, livestock yards, and farm buildings. The windows are down, the air is cool, and there’s a distant yet oddly pleasant smell of campfire and hay. The car radio volume is low and playing an alternative playlist over the hum of the highway and the distant croaking of frogs. For the first 10 minutes of this peaceful drive sterling sat calmly and quietly staring off into the distance in front of him, still very high. I watched out the windshield, quietly humming along to the radio, and content with the fact that I didn’t have to make the drive alone. Then, completely unprompted and without even looking away from the window, eyes presumably fire truck red, he says,

“I fucking HATE speed racer.”

#to say I lost it is an understatement #I almost crashed the car I was laughing so hard #wake up babe new izzy lore just dropped #speed racer #speed racer 2008

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pixievi · 2 years ago

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Being in a Relationship with Eivor

warnings : none, pure fluff, afab reader

She’s very romantic - always bringing you flowers she’s picked, has written many poetry verses about you that she recites to you whenever you’re feeling down, has numerous flyting wins on the topic of spouses under her belt, has gifts for you always from her trips and missions ( anything shiny, clothing, stray animals she’s picked up, books, furs, weapons ; including 3 oddly delicate daggers )

“Where did you get these?”, you asked, cradling the 3 daggers in your arms. Eivor smiled brightly.

“Their names were Cordelia, Goneril and Regan!”, she beamed. “Do you like them?”

“Their names…? Wha-”, you sigh, shaking your head. “They’re beautiful, darling. Thank you”

Very protective. With a capital P. Whether you can take care of yourself or not, she’s always keeping an eye on you. Through her own eyes or Synin’s. You can always trust that she’s ready to defend you with her life at any given moment. To the point where you yourself have to tell her that everything is under control.

She’s also protective in the case of someone else being interested in you. It can go one or two ways, she’d simply up her affections for you whenever they were near - keeping an arm around you or just standing close if she feels she needs her arms free, covering you in kisses, subtly making it clear that you’re hers and she yours etc OR she’s completely hostile. Depends on her mood. And how they act

On the occasion, she’ll take you with her on her more…low stakes missions. Like when she took you to Glowecestrescire, thinking it would be a nice trip together. Which it was. Watching her trick or treat as Mari Lywd all embarrassed and annoyed with both you and Gunnar was hilarious. Until it wasn’t though, however. But in the end, you enjoyed the trip regardless.

When she doesn’t take you with her, she leaves you in charge of Ravensthorpe. Much to your surprise and Dag’s further displeasure - not that he needs to worry for too long ;) Regardless of big D, everyone else respects your leadership. Eivor is always very proud.

She takes you firefly hunting, often making a game out of it

Speaking of games, she is often playful with you. Constant teasing, sarcasm, trying to make you laugh, making competitions out of the most mediocre tasks etc.

Cannot go a day without cuddling you. She’s a huge cuddlebug and on those trips where she’s gone for days at a time, the thought of getting back home to your embrace comforts her.

Tell anyone that she’s often the little spoon and you’re fucked. Literally. She’ll deny it like her life depends on it, scowling at you. You giggling only makes it worse.

She loves to hold you, and loves you holding her. She practically melts into you. She melts at any sort of affection you give her. Holding her hand and arm, squeezing her in a hug, kisses, forehead kisses, hand kisses, cheek kisses, neck kisses, nose kisses, kiss-

Picks you up in hugs, often picks you up a just carries you around.

Braids your hair a lot. You find she enjoys it, especially when she’s stressed or just wants to take her mind off things.

Her favourite place to lay is on your breasts, stomach or lap. Or just anywhere on you really. But those three, she really loves.

Mouse, Dandy Puff and Synin really love you too.

Eivor has often found Mouse slumbering in bed with you, his whole body just flopped onto yours. His face snuggled into your neck while your hands softly gripped his warm fur. The first time Eivor stumbled onto the scene, her heart melted.

Dandy becomes your shadow around Ravensthorpe. Where people see Dandy, they are sure to find you there too. She trails you as you go about your day, especially when you venture into the woods. She gets so excited and zooms around you.

Synin brings you her own gifts. It can range from rocks, sticks, feathers, someone’s wedding ring etc

You keep whatever she brings you. Except for that wedding ring. Which turned out to be Gunnar’s, who thankfully found it funny. Eivor herself was both in shock and amused.

Called you her wife long before she even proposed to you.

Slaps your ass. All the damn time.

Boasts about you to just about anyone at any given moment.

When you told her that you loved her voice, and found it comforting. She was surprised, she found it to be quite rough herself. But it did leave her blushing appreciatively as you kissed her cheek.

She !! Just !! Loves !! You !! So !! Much !!

#eivor x reader #fem!eivor #eivor headcanons #lady eivor #eivor varinsdóttir #eivor varinsdóttir x reader #fem!eivor x reader #relationship headcanons #headcanons #ac valhalla #ac eivor #fluff #eivor fluff #f!eivor x reader

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occasionallykettle · 2 years ago

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it's been longer than a month since some of the cast were shown reacting to mike's monologue but i still want to briefly talk about it because i found the comments of all things oddly hilarious 💀💀

on the surface, we can tell that finn is cringing so hard at the scene. i don't know if that's just him cringing at his own acting or him cringing at the writing in this scene.

i think the other actors' reactions are kind of important as well though? because they obviously don't want to make a jab at finn's acting, but they don't seem thrilled about it either? like they're all sort of just looking at it... but the comments (OH GOD. THE COMMENTS.) seem to think that everyone is so deeply moved or something, which i disagree with completely. to me it just looks like they are all trying to not cringe visibly. caleb literally goes "aww" in a mocking tone after seeing that finn is cringing as well.

alright. the comments. i swear, the comments made me so irrationally mad, even i'm embarrassed about it. the GA/delusional mildsauce shippers (if you told me 6 years ago that i would be calling milkvan shippers delusional in the future, i would have punched you in the face and not believed you) has just hopped into the comments and saying things like "wow, that 'you're MY superhero' line was so deep and it really shows how mike feels about el 🥺🥺🥺" and i just have to. take a few deep breaths.

first of all, they argue that that this... advances milk&oreos' relationship? and when byler shippers in the comments said "el doesn't want to be a superhero", they say that mike was talking about el's personality being a superpower or something, when that was literally the exact opposite of what that means.

and then someone under the comment "the 'you're my superhero' line was a great improvisation from finn" said that... get this... milkvan is such a power couple. I AM SCREAMING. ON THE FLOOR. LAUGHING SO HARD THAT WATER IS COMING OUT OF MY EYES. they are the complete opposite of a power couple. they disempower each other in so many ways, it's unhealthy and toxic. mike became an ass towards all of his friends after spending time only making out with el in season 3, el didn't even know what she liked at the time. she had such a better time with max, and was basically glued to hopper and mike before that. and not to mention, mike wasn't even the one to help el in this scene. it was the sight of max almost dying that gave her the power to get rid of the vines. so where is the power? in what world are they helping each other?

oh my goodness, i searched up the definition of a power couple (just to be sure) and one of the answers was "a couple that compliments each other's strengths and supports each other's individuality". holy shit, that is insane how that's the exact definition of what milkvan is not.

what i love the most though (this time for real)? the bylers in the replies providing analyses. for almost every shitty mildsauce comment, there is an in-depth analysis on why whatever that milkvan said wasn't true. i love that. and the most in-depth analysis i found from milk&oreos/GA's side was basically just "we can see that mike was oBsEsSeD with el from season 1 🥺🥺🥺" (no. i'm not even joking. they literally said that mike was obsessed el since season 1, obsessed being in caps.).

SURE bud, this mike wheeler was 100% in love and obsessed with el in season 1.

ALL IN THE SPAN OF 1 MINUTE 💀💀💀 once he thought that el wasn't useful anymore, he was not hesitant to start getting pissy towards her. yeah, totally obsessed...

wait. there's more.

i'm sorry for this long post, i just got pissed after seeing the comments and wanted to rant somewhere lmao

anyways, i just think that some midlevens are kind of becoming a bit delusional now? they are quite clearly making up things that just aren't true just so that they can call milkvan a healthy "power couple" (that comment will never not be funny to me). i'd like to clarify that this is not all mildsauces, just the ones that make up things and post them in youtube comments in an attempt to prove byler wrong.

#byler #byler proof #will byers #i know what you are mike wheeler #byler evidence #anti m*leven

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chatonne-rousse · 3 years ago

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Turtle-y Awesome

@sketchy-panda sent me the following ask last week:

...and this is the story that sprang from that ask. You never know what you're going to get when you share a headcanon with me! 😉

Read it on Ao3 here.

"...et puit, quand il fut bien certain que personne ne pouvait le voir, Benjamin alluma sa veilleuse."

Adrien turns the last worn page and sets the book beside his knee on Hugo's bed.

"What do you think, kitten? Benjamin was turtle-y being a scaredy-cat, wasn't he?"

Hugo giggles, eyes bright. "He's not a cat, Papa, he's a turtle!"

Adrien nods sagely at his son. "Right you are," he says, patting the book's cover. "If this book tortoise anything, it's that Benjamin is definitely a turtle."

The number of turtle puns in the world is finite, and Hugo has heard his dad tell them all repeatedly, but he still laughs every time. The sound is music to Adrien's ears. He grins as he leans down to tuck the duvet around Hugo's shoulders and lifts his son's dark fringe to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Can we read another story, Papa? I'm not even tired."

Hugo's big green eyes scrunch shut as he yawns widely.

"Mmhmm. I can tell. You know what?" Adrien grabs another stuffed turtle from the bookcase and tucks it in beside the Carapace plushie already cradled in Hugo's arms. "Monsieur Vert looks very tired. He was almost sleeping over there! Maybe if you hold him really, really gently, that will help him fall asleep. I'm sure Carapace is tuckered out after a long day of superheroing, too."

"He is," Hugo says, nodding. He strokes his little hand up and over Monsieur Vert's soft shell. "I'll help them, Papa."

Adrien smiles even as his chest squeezes with emotion. "I know you will, my kind-hearted kitten." He can't resist pressing another kiss to Hugo's forehead and delights in receiving a loud, smacking kiss to his own cheek in return.

The turtle lamp on the nightstand is switched off and the Carapace nightlight beside the bookshelf activates, dim light glowing green through the plastic.

"Bonne nuit, ma petite tortue."

He watches his son cuddle his turtle and Carapace close as the closing door slowly eclipses the bed in shadow from the hallway light. Leaving the door open a crack, Adrien listens for a moment as Hugo gets comfortable in his bed.

He smiles as he pads down the hall toward Emma's room to join his wife for another round of goodnight kisses for their precious kittens.

*****

"Kitty, this is getting ridiculous. How is that the only thing he wants for his birthday?" Marinette shakes her head, but her grin betrays her lack of any real annoyance.

Adrien rubs his face and groans. "I know. Believe me, I know. Can you imagine if Nino knew?"

That surprises her. "You haven't told him? I told Alya ages ago when he said Carapace was his favorite." She thinks for a moment. "I don't think I've shared the, um...depth of the obsession, though."

He stares at her, deadpan, before they both laugh.

"Turtles I could handle, Mari. They're cute. They're green." He bats his eyes at her and she swats his arm playfully. "But Carapace? Carapace? When Chat Noir is right there? I don't get it."

"Awww, Chaton. Is my kitty jealous?"

"Of course not," he says, pouting, though he can't keep up the ruse and his smile breaks through. "Okay, maybe a little."

"Nino made a wonderful hero, and is the perfect holder for Wayzz, and you know it."

She scooches closer to him on the sofa and rubs his back gently. His eyes close for just a moment before opening them to find his wife gazing at him with what might just be his favorite look in her eyes - a teasing glint, a touch of heat, and an endless well of love. Everything goes fuzzy momentarily, but he catches her next words clearly.

"Besides, my favorite hero will always be Chat Noir. Always."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

She nods.

Her eyes go wide when he hauls her petite frame from the sofa beside him and settles her across his lap. She laughs as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses a kiss to his lips.

"What a coincidence, My Lady," he murmurs into the whisper of space between them, "because my favorite hero--" He pauses, kissing her again, "is also Chat Noir."

There's a beat of silence and then she's laughing, pressing her face into the crook of his neck to muffle her giggles. His arms tighten around her shaking shoulders as he laughs along with her, swept away by the sweet sound he will always love. There's no joy in the world quite like making his wife laugh.

"You know I'm kidding, Bug," he finally whispers into her hair when their laughter subsides. "Emma and I share a favorite hero. The greatest of all. Prettiest, too. Oh, wow, is she ever beautiful. And strong. And smart."

"Rena Rouge?" Marinette asks cheekily, her nose still pressed to his neck.

"Nooooo," he croons, tickling her sides until she laughs again. "It's Ladybug, jumping above, Lady magique et lady chance!"

"Kitty, no!" she begs through her giggles, "Don't get that in my head!"

"Too late!"

He silences the last of her laughter when he captures her lips with his, twin sighs mingling in the late-night quiet of the living room.

With forever in his arms and their shared future asleep down the hall, Adrien simply loses himself in this blissful moment, forgetting that their baby will turn five next weekend, that the passage of time is as inevitable as the dichotomy of creation and destruction. Wrapped up in his wife, time seems to stop altogether. Marinette - her love, her care, their unshakeable bond - is eternal.

But of course, the clock still ticks. And when they part a few minutes later, after one last kiss and a nuzzle of her nose against his, he still has to ask.

"So we're really throwing Hugo a Carapace-themed birthday party?"

She nods. "Yep."

"And we're buying him the new Shell-ter Secret Hideout Super Bunker, complete with Carapace action figure, power-ups, costume changes, a Turtle-mobile sports car that Nino never had, and four different colored shields that he also never had?"

"There's a jet, too, for some reason. But...yep."

Adrien nods slowly, a smile spreading across his face. "He's going to love it."

"Oh, he is," she affirms, her grin matching her husband's. "And so is Uncle Nino."

He snorts a laugh and pulls her close once more, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.

"This'll be hilarious."

Marinette smiles against his shoulder.

"Yep."

*****

Everything is green.

Their normally colorful apartment seems to have transformed into an emerald dreamscape that doubles as a turtle sanctuary.

Everything is green, and there are turtles everywhere.

Sea turtles, tortoises, turtles of all kinds - including a certain turtle-themed superhero - adorn every surface. Adrien had been surprised by the amount of Carapace party merchandise he was able to find online. He's used to the numerous Carapace items in Hugo's bedroom, pieces he's added to his collection one by one over the past year or so. But this, his best friend's face dangling from streamers, emblazoned on little party hats, is just a little weird.

He's proud, though. A little jealous, a lot amused, and very, very proud. No desperately sad, pitifully lonely teenage boy has ever found a better friend than Nino Lahiffe. He's the brother of his heart, the mellow to his anxious, the staunch protector of their little group of best friends and hero teammates. Adrien has to admit that Hugo has great taste in favorite superheroes.

Someday he'll discover that his idol is also his Uncle Nino, but today is not that day. Today, the magic and wonder still shines in his son's eyes, and it's a beautiful thing.

Adrien putters around the kitchen making last-minute preparations to the food and drink selection, making sure there are plenty of cups and plates (all printed with a Carapace action scene, of course) stacked on the island. Oddly, he couldn't find Carapace napkins to go along with the other paper goods, but Marinette had saved the day by snagging a pack of sea turtle patterned napkins that coordinated perfectly in a pinch.

He smiles at the thought of his resourceful bug, his grin widening as he hears her welcome guests at the door. This is followed by a squeal of glee when Hugo and two of his classmates run off to his bedroom to play. Adrien shakes his head, still smiling. He'll have to lure them out in a bit with snacks and the promise of gifts and cake.

It's not like he doesn't already know from several years of experience that children's birthday parties are mostly adults mingling and intermittently making sure the kids don't get into too much mischief as they play together.

He takes the spinach quiche from the oven where it was warming up and sets it on the table with the other food, rebelliously placing a black potholder with a neon green pawprint pattern under the hot ceramic dish.

A towering, tiered tray of green macarons has pride of place on the dining room table, the top half of each cookie painted to look like a turtle's shell in edible glittering gold. They look almost too pretty to eat, and the same goes for the expertly-decorated turtle cake nearby, made by Hugo's grandparents and brought straight from the bakery for his big day.

The vegetable plate is an array of green, from broccoli to peppers to celery. The party has barely begun, but the celery is already running low, thanks to Emma's clandestine snacking in the hours beforehand.

Everything is green, and Hugo loves it. And that's what it's all about, really.

*****

Adrien is on his way back from checking in on the now half dozen kids playing in Hugo's room when he hears Alya's laughter from the entryway. Clearly she's spotted the party decor. He rounds the corner to find Marinette hugging her best friend, Alya's pregnant belly only getting in the way a bit and not stopping her from throwing her arms around Marinette's shoulders.

"Sorry we're late, Mari," she says, then pitches her voice to a stage whisper. "I had to pee. Twice." She leans back from the hug and cradles her bump. "Actually, I'm just going to..." She points down the hall, and Marinette laughs.

"Go for it, Als. We've all been there."

Nino is still crouched by the door, helping his daughter out of her jacket and shoes. He just shakes his head and laughs. She races off to find her "cousins" and Nino stands, kissing Marinette on each cheek and wrapping Adrien in a hug.

Surveying the apartment over Adrien's shoulder, he claps him on the back and says, "I love what you've done with the place. Very inspired design choice."

Adrien rolls his eyes and all three of them laugh.

"Hugo is obsessed with turtles. You have no idea."

"Oh, I think he has some idea, Minou." Marinette smiles at her husband over her shoulder, linking arms with Alya when she joins them again and ushering her into the green-bedecked living room.

He glances sidelong at Nino with a sheepish grin. "This isn't too weird for you, is it? It was all Hugo's idea. He hasn't stopped talking about his 'Carapace Turtle Party' for weeks," Adrien says, air quotes included.

"Nah, mec, it's cool. Kind of flattering." Nino raises an eyebrow and laughs. "What do you think he'll say when you tell him someday?"

Adrien just shakes his head. "Probably ask if you can adopt him and be his dad instead." His smile is teasing but just a touch rueful.

Nino laughs again. "No way, man. Number one, I've already got enough kids. Number two, you're the best dad. They love you like crazy, bro. Seriously."

His chest fills with warmth. Nino is such an incredible friend. And he's right (about the last bit, at least).

"They're incredible, Nino. Being a dad is..." He trails off, unable to find the words.

"I know, dude." He claps Adrien on the shoulder. "They're a pain in the ass, but they make up for it by being totally awesome."

Nino glances around, finally spotting the table full of green food and turtle-themed treats.

"Wait. Bro. Is that a turtle cake?"

*****

"You know," Nino says a few minutes later, washing down a matcha macaron with a swig of turtle punch, "I could get used to this. It would mess with my head, but after a while--" he looks at the cup with his face on it and shrugs, "it's not so strange. Better than having my face plastered on a billboard outside the Galeries Lafayette."

Adrien groans. "Et tu, Brute? Why would you remind me of that?"

"Because I can." Nino takes another bite of macaron and nudges his best friend's shoulder, laughing.

*****

As the kids snack and carry on, Adrien finally decides it's time to let his best friend see the Carapace shrine that is his son's bedroom.

Nino takes in Hugo's completely green, turtle-filled bedroom as Adrien waits with bated breath beside him for his reaction.

It is, as usual, relatively chill.

"Little dude has good taste!"

"Indeed." Wayzz peeks from Nino's collar with a pleased smile on his face. "The turtle has always symbolized wisdom, strength, and longevity." His tiny smile widens. "I'm also partial to the color green."

Nino steps farther into Hugo's room to examine the bookcase. "I...did not know they made this much Carapace merch."

"Believe me, there's more. We have to draw the line somewhere." Adrien closes his eyes and sighs. "Although he does brush his teeth with a Carapace toothbrush."

Nino's laugh starts as a snort and builds when he spots the Carapace wastebasket beside Hugo's bed and the Carapace plushie propped against his pillow. It turns positively raucous when he sees his best friend's face.

"Holy crap, dude," he wheezes. "This is hilarious. You must be so jealous."

"I am not!"

"You totally are."

"Well--" Adrien sputters, "Marinette is, too!"

"Not as much as you are, Kitty!" she calls from the living room.

Adrien throws his hands in the air. Nino doubles over.

"Chat Noir is cool, too," he mutters, petulant.

A still-laughing Nino pats his arm consolingly. "If it makes you feel any better, Chat Noir is my favorite hero...after Rena Rouge."

That actually does make him feel better, but he's not telling Nino that. Instead, he just grins a sly half-smile at his best friend. "Good save, man."

"Hey, I know which side my bread is buttered on, mec. Don't act like you don't."

Adrien is helpless to the smile that spreads across his face.

Nino groans. "You've been married for seven years, dude. Are you ever not going to go all gooey just thinking about Marinette?"

Adrien quirks an eyebrow and glances sidelong at him. Nino nods once and pats Adrien's shoulder.

"That was a dumb question, wasn't it?"

"Yep," Marinette says from the hallway behind them.

Adrien's heart beats faster at the twinkle in her eye. He wonders how much she heard. Probably all of it - she always did have sonic hearing, but motherhood seemed to ramp it up to eleven. Not much escapes his wife.

"Time for cake and presents," she announces. "Nino, you can revel in Hugo's Carapace shrine later."

"And I will, don't you worry," Nino says with a laugh as he turns to head back to the party.

Adrien throws an arm over his best friend's shoulder and smiles brightly at Marinette.

Hugo has merch, but Adrien has a real, live Ladybug who promised eternity to her Chat Noir. He holds his own favorite superhero in his arms every night, and nothing, nothing compares to that.

*****

Surrounded by wrapping paper and bows, the birthday boy sits on the floor with one last gift in front of him. The box is taller than he is when seated, and he has to stand up on his knees to tear the paper off the top. As soon as he can see what's inside, he shouts with glee and jumps to his feet. Overjoyed, he scampers around the coffee table to his parents, first thanking Marinette with a hug and kiss, then getting swept up in Adrien's arms for a bear hug.

The fact that Hugo doesn't push away from him to return to his barely-unwrapped gift is not lost on him, nor is the fact that he abandoned it and thought to thank them first in his excitement.

Sometimes Adrien feels like he's been given so much more than he deserves. Marinette alone is a blessing beyond his imagination, but Emma and Hugo, too? It's too much and he knows it, so he holds them close and relishes every single moment like this one with his little boy hugging him tight and murmuring thanks into his neck.

A few minutes later finds Hugo examining every detail of his new treasure (after Adrien wrangled all the parts out of their plastic-encased prison).

He claps his hands when he sees that this set comes with a bonus Chat Noir action figure in addition to Carapace and his shields of many colors.

"Maman!" he cries, jubilant, holding Chat Noir above his head so she can see. "Look! It has Chat Noir! You love Chat Noir!"

Blushing, Marinette pointedly avoids looking in the direction of the two moms of Hugo's school friends who've stayed for the party but smiles widely at her son. "I do. He's my favorite superhero of all time."

Hugo nods, turning to his dad where he sits beside him on the floor, struggling to snip the tiny plastic anchors holding each piece to the cardboard backing.

"See, Papa? He's Carapace's sidekick."

"Hey!" Adrien says indignantly. He looks up from the mess of cardboard and plastic in his lap as Marinette, Alya, and Nino laugh.

Nino, best bro that he is, chimes in. "Nah, little man, Chat Noir is no one's sidekick. He's way too brave and cool for that." He grins at Hugo and points first to the Carapace action figure on the coffee table and then to Chat Noir in his hand. "They're a team. Best friends and superheroes at the same time. That's why they're so awesome."

Hugo looks at the Chat Noir figure for a long moment. "Wow," he breathes. "Chat Noir is as cool as Carapace." He says it like a revelation that's rocked his entire worldview.

Alya sniffles and Marinette hands her a tissue.

"Okay, but Ladybug is still the coolest," Emma pipes up from Hugo's other side.

All the adults besides Marinette nod. Adrien reaches around Hugo to pat Emma's back.

"You're absolutely correct, kitten."

Marinette blushes again and Alya blows her nose.

Hugo tucks Carapace into the driver's seat of the Turtle-mobile with Chat Noir beside him as his passenger, racing the sports car across the rug toward his friends so they can play with his new toys, too.

Adrien looks from his son to his own best friend, and Nino gives him a thumbs up and a grin.

*****

Later, when the dishes are washed and their living room looks slightly less like a turtle habitat, Adrien sits on the sofa with a cup of tea and watches Hugo play with his new, treasured birthday gifts. The Shell-ter Secret Hideout Super Bunker is open, its many accessories strewn around Hugo where he sits cross-legged, Carapace in his left hand and Chat Noir in his right.

"I'll protect you!" "Carapace" cries, Hugo's voice pitched to sound brave and true but still carrying his sweet child's tone.

"Thank you for keeping My Lady safe, Carapace!"

Adrien snorts a surprised laugh into his tea. "Chat Noir" speaks in a husky growl, though Hugo gives him a note of cheery confidence, as though he truly appreciates Carapace's brave deeds, as though Chat Noir can take the decisive cataclysmic swing knowing his beloved partner is safe from harm.

And honestly, Hugo has the right of it. Adrien wonders how his son could possibly know that this exact scene - with slightly different dialogue, of course - played out many times over, years before he was born.

Hugo mimics the sound of an explosion, then an "oof!" as Chat Noir falls to his back but springs up again quickly. Just as Carapace returns to Chat's side with a confident, "What can I do to help save the day, Chat Noir?", Marinette's hands snake around Adrien's shoulders from behind, surprising him.

He sets his mug on a coaster on the end table and wraps his hands around her forearms, pulling her in closer. Leaned over the back of the sofa, she nuzzles his cheek with hers before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I think we pulled off the dream turtle party pretty well, don't you, Chaton?"

"Oh, we turtle-y did."

Adrien delights in the huff of laughter she exhales against his cheek. That might be the most overused pun in the house, but sometimes it still lands just right. They watch Hugo play, matching grins making their cheeks press closer together.

"Looks like that was one shell of a gift, eh?"

He swoons dramatically, his head falling to the back cushion of the sofa so he looks at Marinette upside-down. "My Lady, you know what it does to me when you pun."

"Oh, I do," she says, completely unapologetic, and boops his nose.

He just has to lean up to kiss her because, well, she's so beautiful and he loves her so much and she's right there.

They break apart a moment later when they hear Emma call for Marinette from her bedroom. She plants one last upside-down kiss on his forehead and lets her hands drift slowly across his chest and shoulders as she stands.

She gives him a wry smile. "Duty calls."

"Hmmm," he hums thoughtfully, picking up his tea and taking another sip. "And here I thought her name was Emma."

Marinette groans at him as she walks away, and the sound catches Hugo's attention.

"Papa? Will you play superheroes with me?"

Of course. Always. I will never, ever be too busy for my kittens, he thinks.

"Sure, buddy," he says instead.

Finishing his tea in one big gulp, he slides from the sofa and scampers on hands and knees like a giant cat to where his son is playing. Hugo giggles at his dad's ridiculousness.

Adrien takes stock of the many accessories scattered around the play set and asks, "What are Chat Noir and Carapace up to today?"

Hugo explains the situation, the bad guy's motives, and what the heroes need to do to save Paris from disaster. Adrien listens carefully. Looking up at him with green eyes that match his own, big and wide and crinkled at the corners with his happy smile, Hugo offers the Chat Noir action figure to his dad.

"Will you be Chat Noir, Papa? He's Carapace's best friend in the world and they need to work together to save the day."

Adrien cradles the action figure in one hand and gently pats the pocket where Plagg hides with the other. His kwami presses a paw against his chest in return. Overwhelmed, all he can do is grin at Hugo and try not to cry.

"It would be my greatest honor," he vows grandly, holding up a hand in oath. "I purr-omise to be the best hero I can be. Cat's honor."

Hugo laughs. "You said honor twice."

"So I did. That's because it's very important."

His son nods solemnly, then reaches for Carapace's super jet. He places the hero in the cockpit and flies the jet around his head, making zooming noises.

"Are you ready, Chat Noir? I'm coming to pick you up!"

The jet has only one seat, but that doesn't seem to bother Hugo. Adrien readies the tiny plastic baton in Chat Noir's hand and uses it to vault from his own knee into the imaginary sky over Paris.

"Meow-velous!" he crows, delighted. "This cat is ready to be whiskered away in your very realistic jet! Allons-y, my turtle friend!"

Hugo giggles, Adrien's heart melts, and they set off on a grand adventure together.

#domestic fluff #dadrien #mominette #hugo loves turtles #and carapace #and uncle nino loves it #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #future fic #family fluff #thanks for the idea sketchy!#gift fic #ml fanfiction #ml fanfic #ml #miraculous ladybug #my writing

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levihantrash · 3 years ago

Text

Shitty Comics and Their Shitty Artists

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

Levi Ackerman, a gruff cleaner with an appetite for toilet humour meets the unabashedly friendly creative writing professor, Hange Zoë, who somehow ropes Levi into working on a comic with them. While the comic’s title remains undecided, Hange knows that it’s going to be set in a world where giant, human-like creatures devour other humans. Erwin Smith, the comic’s self-appointed editor, unironically thinks it’s going to be a hit. All Levi knows is that he wants to indulge in drawing this comic while hanging out with a certain writer who just won’t stop talking to him.

Where Hange, Levi, and Erwin are the creators of Attack on Titan.

Chapter 1:

“The sweets are really good here, huh?” A kind, bespectacled face appeared beside him, peering at the bulging of his shirt.

Levi had stolen from the pantry plenty of times. He had never gotten caught, so his gradual boldness could have been the problem. He had seen Mikasa, his younger sister, whenever she passed by the snacks section in the grocery store. Her gaping mouth at the sight of the colourful assortment of sweets was enough to let him know.

“I just like looking!” Mikasa said hastily. He hadn’t said anything either.

To be caught now, when he had overheard a staff member mentioning that most of the professors would be taking their leave during the summer break, was just his bad, bad luck. Objectively, he was risking his month-old job, but stealing from the pantry was much less risky than stealing from the grocery store. He began doing it weekly. Every Monday, right before the professors came streaming in, he would take a quick survey of his surroundings, and snatch two chocolate bars, sometimes a banana—only a handful. He would glance at the security camera hanging in the corner, willing it to catch him. Nobody would be petty enough to arrest a cleaner for swiping staff snacks in the pantry, right?

Levi stared back at the unfamiliar person. He recognised most of the staff by now. Only the English Literature professor, Erwin Smith, would greet him in the mornings.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Hange Zoë, the new creative writing professor. Nice to meet you!” They extended out a hand, which he felt obliged to shake, albeit warily. The hand was sweaty, and the handshake, vigorous.

“I was setting up my table and I wanted to meet everyone. Turns out most of them are on vacation,” Hange said absent-mindedly, scratching their head. The two buttons of their shirt had been mixed up, scrunching up the dress shirt's already lopsided collar. Levi resisted the urge to rebutton it for them. Today was not the day to scare off what seemed to be a genuinely welcoming person. Hange, on the other hand, found the firm handshake hilarious. What made this person so uptight?

Hange, realising that he wasn’t saying anything, breezily went, “what’s your name?”

“Levi,” he said, pushing his hands back into his pockets.

“You don’t prefer Dr. Levi?” Hange asked curiously.

“I’m not a professor. Just the cleaner,” Levi said shortly.

“Oh? Is that why you’re so secretive about the snacks?” Hange teased him, much to his chagrin.

“You rich profs have enough to eat,” Levi spat out.

Hange didn’t even blink, nodding calmly, “you’re right, it’s certainly good to make full use of the school’s resources.” Levi, sensitive to any hint of condescension, found none, though not regretting his overdose of sarcasm.

“Also,” Hange added, “I’m not going to tell anyone, I promise! So could you not look like you want to kill me and leave my dead body in the cleaning closet?”

Levi scoffed, relaxing the fists that had formed naturally by his side.

“Do you like bread?” Hange asked suddenly, scanning him for signs of the affirmative. He shrugged.

“I passed by a bakery this morning and it had the most delicious smell,” they sighed, “I was running late so I couldn’t get anything.”

“It seems like you’re kind of a mess.”

Hange laughed—this person could literally laugh at everything, Levi thought. They lifted their shoulders with their arms in the air, in a manner of “I was born like this, what do you want me to do?”

As the conversation subsided, Hange saw Levi’s eyes dart towards the neglected mop and bucket, finding it oddly endearing.

“Well then! I won’t disturb you any longer!” Hange announced. Levi wanted to tell them that they weren’t disturbing him at all, before stopping himself. His initial plan was to escape from useless small talk. Uttering such absurdity would be counterintuitive.

“Since you’re here,” Hange grabbed the last few packets of chips in the basket and stuffed them into his gigantic apron pockets, “you might as well take the rest!”

“Are you pitying me?”

“Those snacks aren’t for you,” Hange merely said cheerfully, before tentatively asking, “or am I wrong?”

“Don’t expect any favours,” Levi said begrudgingly.

He looked awkwardly at the distracted professor, who had chosen to open a chocolate bar themselves.

“Thanks…” he said, and Hange only grins, bits of chocolate and almond stuck to their teeth.

----------

Routine, that’s how it all began. Levi and Hange were seeing each other every day. In each encounter, Hange would tug out a new bread or pastry from the depths of a green, bottomless leather bag that they carried around everywhere.

Initially, Levi felt offended. “You think I can’t afford bread?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

Hange’s eyes widened, “of course not! I want to share the joy of this bread, if you remember that bakery I was craving for,” they poked at the loaf, leaving a small dent in the middle.

With their hand still extended out, Hange scoured for words, “and you look like someone who doesn’t often indulge in little joys.”

“I didn’t ask you to psychoanalyze me.” Levi grabbed the bread, tore it into two, and pushed one entire piece into his mouth. A muffled word of thanks came out. The other half was planted back onto Hange’s palm.

“You said you wanted to share, didn’t you?”

Hange glowed in acknowledgement. They stuffed the warm bread into their mouth, cheeks full, incoherently raving about its texture. The sight of Levi chewing the bread contentedly after unexpectedly cramming it into his mouth; Hange wanted to preserve it, to immortalise this tentative pleasure. If fresh bread was what it took to achieve that, it was perfectly doable.

Levi saw it as what it was. An offering. There was really no reason to reject free bread, and if this were Hange’s version of bribery, it was innocent enough.

“Why don’t I get bread?” Erwin asked Hange, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Levi’s nose wrinkled at the overly strong aroma.

“Sorry Erwin!” Hange patted him on the back, not sounding apologetic at all, “I only have money for one friend and since Levi is my first friend here, it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

“Certainly,” Erwin said, sipping on his black coffee, eyeing a certain stony-faced individual’s violent coughing at Hange’s mention of “friend.”

“What?” Levi asked, clearing his throat one more time.

“Good day to you both,” Erwin said, sweeping past Levi to return to his desk.

Following the end of summer break, Hange became relatively friendly with their colleagues in the staffroom, who had never greeted Levi. Unbothered by the lack of formalities, Levi found himself getting along best with living things that discarded general rules of propriety. Like children, animals… and Hange. Still, when Levi trailed back to the staffroom, wet mop in hand, he found himself at a hearing distance behind Hange’s conversation with a group of colleagues.

Hange got to the point, smiling sweetly. “Why do you all pretend Levi doesn’t exist?”

There were awkward, feeble words of justification. Something about Levi being too scary. Something about Levi not greeting them first. Hange listened, eyebrows furrowing.

“You could at least say hi, right? He doesn’t bite,” Hange said coolly. Their colleagues felt the faintest chill up their spine. Levi sloshed the mop onto the floor, making his presence known. Hange barely flinched, as though expectant of his company.

“Are you talking about me behind my back?”

Hange slung an arm around Levi’s shoulders and whispered, “no, I’m telling everyone right now that you don’t get enough sleep and that’s why you’re glaring at everyone.”

Levi elbowed them away. “Who cares what people think?”

Unwrapping the bread Hange gave him, he took one significant, large bite while everyone squirmed in silence. Hange, strangely amused by the scene playing out before them, ushered Levi towards Erwin’s cubicle.

“Levi! What are your plans for today?”

“Cleaning.”

Hange clapped their hands together, “I invite you to have lunch with me and Erwin!”

“Why should I go?” Levi said, not unkindly.

“Why not?” Levi couldn’t give a good reason. Hange, latching on to Levi’s lack of refusal, took the mop away from his hands.

“You can finish cleaning later. Everyone has to eat, right?”

“Not you, apparently,” Levi muttered, remembering how Hange had straight-up not left their desk for a whole ten hours—the sun shining on their sleep deprivation at dawn until the desktop screen illuminated their exhaustion at dusk.

“That was one deadline, Levi.”

“Sure.” Regardless, he wasn’t about to decline Hange. Somehow, Hange had grown attached to Erwin, and had endless discussions with him. Conversations about writing, mostly. He didn’t participate much outside of jabbing at Hange’s ribs when the volume of their voice went over the publicly acceptable range. Otherwise, he would be shooting glares at Erwin whenever he tried to probe into Levi’s personal life. Erwin had an intensity that was difficult, near impossible to ignore.

Incidentally, the topic of comics cropped up.

“Comics?”

Hange picked up on the rare tonal shift of Levi’s voice, studying him. Erwin’s fork elegantly pierced a French fry, the screech of the fork’s contact with the plate prompting Levi to speak over it. He was positive that Erwin was trying to get him to talk. On purpose.

“Yes, I like them,” Levi conceded, draining the tea from his cup.

“I learn something new about you every day!” Hange exclaimed, as Levi gripped the edge of the cup harder.

Seemingly catching on to Levi’s discomfort, Erwin asked Hange for recommendations, telling them how he had never read any comics.

“How predictable of a literature professor,” Hange said, sitting up straighter to mock the poise of a scholar, glasses perched at the tip of their nose for the intended effect.

“You look like a fart with a stick up their ass,” Levi commented, leaving Hange howling. Erwin, the consistent gentleman, remained at ease with these disparaging jokes.

While Hange listed out their favourite comics, Levi noted that none of their top choices was marginally close to any of his preferences: in genre, in plot, and in art style.

“I like horror.”

“I don’t,” Levi countered. Hange grinned wider.

“Well, you’re scary enough as you are,” Hange considered, taking in his aloof disposition and the way he sat stiffly on the chair. Nonchalant, and could possibly decimate you.

“Look,” Hange said, thrusting an open book into Levi’s hands. “This comic is so good. It keeps me up at night.”

Levi leafed through the pages, absorbed by the clean black and white lines. That was, until he flipped a page and winced at the image of empty eye sockets, gouged out, spurting inked blood.

“You don’t like blood,” Hange said this matter-of-factly, promptly closing the book.

“I don’t like unnecessary death.”

“How do you know those deaths were unnecessary?” Erwin asked, pushing back his blonde hair in an effortlessly charismatic manner.

Levi could picture it. Erwin, a fearless leader, bringing people to greater heights.

Hange had less noble thoughts. Erwin was definitely the protagonist in a teen movie who looked older than high school age and was starring as a blonde jock whose embarrassingly lacklustre coming-of-age arc was spurred by a shy, beautiful nerd. For good reason, Hange kept their mouth shut.

“I don’t,” Levi answered, “but is any death really necessary?”

Erwin smiled, “perhaps not.” The seed of doubt grew in Levi.

Hange leaned forward across the table towards Levi, a hand covering one side of their smirking face.

“Erwin’s a lot more calculative than you think.”

Levi swatted away Hange’s strands of hair tickling his cheek, “I know,” he said half-heartedly, not wishing to contemplate the extent of its truthfulness.

Carving the last piece of meat on his plate into two, Erwin shrugged.

“So, you would say that some deaths are necessary?” Levi asked. The question blurted out on its own, slicing through the amicable atmosphere like a stray bullet. For some reason, he wanted a proper answer. Hange was busy flipping through the same horror comic book, their eyes trained on the page.

“Do you like bugs, Levi?” Erwin asked.

Levi visibly scowled. “No.”

Erwin’s fork scraped the plate insistently. “Do you kill them?”

“Obviously.”

Erwin’s collectedness seemed impenetrable. “Would you say their deaths are necessary?”

“Necessary enough as a cleaner.”

“There, you have your answer,” Erwin said, with finality.

“I’m talking about human lives, not some insects,” Levi said, frustrated.

“Some lives matter more than others, am I right?”

“Yeah…” Levi said, struggling to grasp Erwin’s logic.

“It’s the same for us,” Erwin said cryptically.

Hange stood up, snapping the book shut. “Shit, I have to teach a class in ten!” Levi naturally stood up as well. Erwin gave a friendly wave, undeterred by the abruptness of their departure.

“See you, Erwin!” Hange called out, rushing back to the staffroom.

“Why does Erwin have to be so ambiguous?” Levi griped.

“You’re not very telling, yourself,” Hange said blithely, grabbing their laptop before marching out of the door.

Armed with constant smiles and warm words, Levi would classify Hange as someone just as enigmatic. Their discussions about writing were arguably personal, but they weren’t exactly close to the heart.

The two people Levi was becoming acquainted with in the past few weeks were a slate full of words in a language he understood, but couldn’t decipher. For the rest of the day, he compromised on these doubts by making sure the windows had not a speck of dust on them. Every moving insect was stamped out under his supervision. He thought about Erwin’s words, turning them over and over in his head. He thought about Hange’s nonchalance towards Erwin’s questions.

----------

After locking up his cleaning supplies, Levi peeled the sweaty gloves off his arms, untying the bandana on his head that kept his long fringe away, and removed his apron. Hearing a friendly shout in the otherwise deserted school building, he caught Hange coming to a stop behind him.

“You’re still here,” he said, frowning.

“Had a lot of work,” they said, armed with this reasoning every day.

“Were you listening during lunch?”

“Hmm, kind of,” Hange stated obliquely, “you know how literature people are.”

Levi was bewildered, his passive expression cracking slightly. “I don’t. As you might have realised, I don’t talk to a lot of people.”

“Literature people,” Hange rubbed their chin, eyes looking upwards in deep thought, “enjoy discussing morality in a mostly abstract, hypothetical way.”

“That’s annoying.”

Hange fell in step with Levi, who was headed to the exit, “Erwin’s one of the better ones. He’s pragmatic, and he’s not just all talk.”

“Yeah, so what’s his grand plan…” Levi said, finding the right words, “for humanity?”

“He wants to create a comic.”

Levi blinked.

“Huh? What does that have to do with morality?”

Hange looked unperturbed by Levi’s confusion, as though it were commonplace for them to defend the importance of the comic genre.

“Think of texts as a philosophical question waiting to be answered. And the questions of morality being narrativized makes their conclusions more believable. More influential. Erwin has a vision for comics to be the source of truth.”

“What truth?”

Hange grinned, “if we knew, would we need to write the comic?”

“You talk like it’s more revolutionary than it actually is…” Levi said, pushing open the door to step out of the school building.

“A comic can be life-changing,” Hange mused, admiring how the sunset decorated everything in watercolour splashes of orange and pink; a distinct nostalgic hue.

Levi remembered that Hange was, after all, a creative writing professor. “Yeah, you would say that.”

“It’s not because I’m a creative writing professor!” Hange said, impassioned. He gave them a dry look.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Besides, Erwin wants to be the editor of the comic that I am writing,” Hange said proudly.

Levi felt that his head might explode. “Since when were you writing a comic?”

“Since last week!” Hange said, remarkably animated.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Isn’t that what friends are for? To share things with?” Hange asked, hopeful.

That word—Levi figured that that was what they were by now. Friends. He didn’t hate the sound of it.

“You’re not going to ask what it’s about?”

“You’ll tell me if I just waited.”

“You’re right! But you see,” Hange exhaled, shaking their head despondently, “my problem is that I don’t have someone who can draw out my writing.” Levi’s hands twitched. He interlocked them into a prayer, hoping Hange didn’t notice.

“Why not just write a novel?”

Hange was unconvinced, “I’m tired of just the written word, Levi! The versatility and multimodal form of the comic are incomparable to a novel!”

Levi had to agree. “Have you been trying to find artists?”

“Yes, but none of them seemed very keen on drawing the story,” Hange said, recalling the number of people who became increasingly disconcerted upon hearing the gist of the story.

“So, what’s the story?” Levi asked.

Hange was hesitant. Levi waited.

“It’s horror, isn’t it?”

“The premise includes giant naked human beings running around eating people,” Hange said. Levi grimaced. They expected this, but it didn’t make their disappointment at his very reasonable reaction any less jarring.

“It also has a lot of blood,” Hange said. Sensing that they were one sentence away from diving into a world-building sermon, they paused.

“Do you want to hear more?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Levi said honestly. It had been a long day.

“Of course! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Hange said, giving him a reassuring pat on the back.

“I’ll see you,” Levi said belatedly. Hange was already brisk walking towards the crowded street.

Instinctively, he called out, “Four-eyes!”

Turning back, Hange stood where they were, surprised.

“Tell me the story tomorrow.”

A gradual look of appreciation spread across Hange’s face, as their eyes arched downwards into thin curves.

“Thank you, Levi!”

Levi sidestepped Hange’s thanks with a disgruntled “tch. Whatever.”

I finally did it! I posted the first chap of the fic I've been working on for the past month *_* if you read till here... thank you!!! hearing your thoughts/comments would be nice heheh

#aot #snk #levihan #fanfiction #my writing #levi hange erwin #levi and hange #ao3 #attack on titan #levi x hange #erurihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #erwin smith #im rly nervous n excited

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savagetrickster · 4 years ago

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Crushing on You (HCs) | BNHA

Request: First of All, i love your navigation its really unique :) Then mhhh what i wanted to request are just some headcanons about shoto (and other characters u like) in which they get really soft zu their crush or s/o, just some fluffy things that come to your mind when u think about it uwu !and dont stress yourself with anseering this request, take ur time!

anime | character(s): bnha | todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki

word count: 1.9k+

a/n: thank you anon, it took me a really long time to make my current navigation; glad you liked it! sorry for the delay, i’ve been trying to squeeze in writing time between my work schedules and finally managed to complete this as well. Whew! i expanded a little more on your requests while trying not to go off-track hahah! also, i really want to add more characters but time could allow me to write for these two. hope you like my take on how they would behave regarding their crushes! i kinda rushed through this piece so the sentences may not string well together hahah and there may be some errors; it’s not beta-ed.

How did he find out about his crush on you?

Shouto is as smart as a pile of bricks when it comes to anything that isn’t…well, hero stuff? So when he harbored special feelings for you at the start, he wasn’t aware of that. Completely oblivious and hilariously dense about it.

The first few times his heart raced and his cheeks grew warm in your presence, he didn’t make the connection between these and you. He went to see the doctor thinking there was something wrong with his heart and was the reason why his face would feel warm. Nights before his appointment at the hospital, he couldn’t sleep.

It turned out that everything was fine; his heart is perfectly healthy. So the next thing he thought, making a connection to you - is he allergic to you? Or did you have some sort of secondary quirk you kept secret?

Often, he found his eyes gravitating to you, like you were some kind of magnet. You were the first thought he wakes up to and the last before he went to sleep. There were times he felt oddly possessive of you when you talked with the guys.

Despite all these, none of these made him realize his feelings for you. He passed them off as curiosity since you were the only one who made him feel strange.

He only found out why when he shared his suspicion about you - is he allergic to you? Or did you have some sort of secondary quirk you kept secret? - with Midoriya, particularly the latter.

How does Shouto behave around you after his realization? All the years growing up the way he did, having a crush on someone was foreign and bizarre to him. Knowing only quirk-related and hero whatnots with limited social interactions in his maturation years, he was…afraid. Afraid of his own feelings for you. He has no idea what to do and couldn’t face you without accidentally coming off as ‘curt and cold’ to you. He avoided you like you were the plague; he couldn’t help it - he felt like he could combust into flames (lol) from how much you made him blush.

You had always enjoyed Shouto’s company and admired his talents as a hero, sharing an amicable connection with him despite not being in his circle with Midoriya and the rest. You liked him. Liked him too much.

So when he was suddenly blunt and cold to you + very obviously avoiding you, your heart broke.

The day you confronted him out of frustration and with a broken heart, he realized how wrong he was to act like this.

>> a short fic based on the paragraphs above is coming soon!

He didn’t want to hurt you because of his own fears. He apologized to you but decided to keep his feelings for you a secret from you - the last thing you two needed a distraction like this when you should be focusing on forging your paths as heroes.

As he promised, he suppressed his feelings and maintained (struggled to) the way he was with you; simply friends.

But he definitely has a soft spot for you.

He has developed an overprotective streak for you; his eyes were always on you.

he’s always the first to react if you were in danger. And if there were any stimulation exercises with the class, he would be adamant about staying near you, asking whoever who is on your team to switch with him (of course, without you knowing)

He is very attentive about what you liked or disliked. Taking notes in his head like it was his duty.

there was a time when he overheard a discussion between the girls and you, gushing about the types of clothes you girls like to see on a guy. Taking interest in what you like, he eavesdropped and heard you like pullovers on guys. And on the very next day, he bought himself a few, of course using his Endeavor’s credit card, and wore them as soon as they were ready to worn.

He takes very good care of you and is always concern. Too concerned for a mere friend. He is always there to catch you in case you fall.

menstrual cramps? one day, he walked into the lounge of Class 1-A dormitory and found you clutching onto your stomach, obviously in discomfort and pain despite already taken a pain killer for your cramps. You desperately needed a heat pad to help ease the shit your uterus had to put you through every month.

at first he had thought about using his fire quirk to help you but quickly scratch that idea because he knew he didn’t have that kind of control to not hurt you by accident. The only solution is to get you a water bottle of warm water which loses its temperature pretty quickly. from then, he made it his goal to obtain superb control over his fire quirk, even to the extent of asking Endeavor for help in refining his control just for you. So that the next month when you had to go through the same pain, he was ready to use his fire quirk to relieve your discomfort.

fever? shouto caught onto news that you caught a bad cold and were down with a high fever. You laid in the darkness of your room, feeling feverish and your body was burning up. that day, he spent the whole night in your room, tending to you the best he could. Pressed his hand to your burning forehead, ice quirk activated; cool enough to make you sigh but not too cold to freeze you by accident - having only used his ice side growing up, his control is excellent. somehow he ended up holding you, cuddling your feverish head to his body on your bed, regularly activating his ice side to keep his body cool.

When he thinks about his future after graduation, he always include you. In fact, you are part of a much, much bigger picture in the future he envisioned.

it is in his plan to confess to you after graduation. he already knew enough about you, having paid attention and staying near you throughout after he found out that you were special to him. over time, his crush on you wasn’t as simple anymore. Something stronger and more permanent was beginning to bloom in his heart as he continued to safeguard you and watch over you like a silent guardian.

Get ready to adopt he name ‘Todoroki’ in the future ‘cause he’s pretty determined to take things further with you. First, his girlfriend and of course his wife and the mother of his children.

How did he find out about his crush on you?

I would like start Bakugou’s part right off the bat by saying that the expression you see in the heading^ made for him is exactly how he would react once he realized he has a crush on you.

Bakugou here looks like he is in disbelief (as if having such feelings was absurd), bewildered and irked. Yes, damn right he will be irked. He finds harboring such feelings for you or in fact, anyone unnecessary, ridiculous and stupid. He didn’t have time for such a thing.

Bakugou isn’t as dense as Shouto about this sort of things; if he did find his heart pounding around you, he’s sharp enough to know that you had an effect on him and suspect that he has feelings for you, but this doesn’t mean he is going to acknowledge it. He would dismiss it quickly and move on to more important stuff like his goals. One day, he grew really jealous and extremely irritated when he saw two seniors hitting on you while he was on his way to class after lunch with Kirishima and Denki. Surprisingly, he handled the situation pretty calmly despite how irritated he is. He walked forward, speeding up ahead of Kirishima and Denki and smoothly tugged you away from the persistent upperclassmen with a firm but gentle grip around your bicep.

From that incident, Kirishima and (sorry Kirishima is probably pretty dense about this sort of things but of course no one could beat Shouto in this area lol) Denki being a rather perceptive guy when it came to matters of the heart, was quick to pick up on Bakugou’s crush on you. Bakugou kind of grudgingly acknowledge his feelings for you that day. Was it because his friends being pushy, constantly teasing him about it? Or was it witnessing that upsetting scene you were in?

Maybe both? But that did not mean he was going to act on it. He is still pretty stubborn about remaining unbothered about this “useless, pointless sentiment”, quoted Bakugou pretty often to his friends. How does Bakugou behave around you? Bakugou Katsuki is a freaking kuudere - i.e. a character who is often cold, blunt, and cynical. They may seem very emotionless on the outside, but on the inside they’re very caring — at least when it comes to the ones they love. Though he deems his feelings for you a “useless, pointless sentiment”, it has become a second nature to him to worry about you regardless of how adamant he is about “not giving a fuck about you” as he had gruffly said to shut his friends up.

He becomes subtlysoft!Bakugou around you.

he is rather toned-down and mature when it comes to you. his explosive (haha) temperament is milder and he exhibits bits of gentlemen traits around you.

his brash, rough voice softens when he talks to you without him realizing. He is more patient and calmer around you than the rest of his classmates or even his closest friends like Kirishima. he rarely yells at you and addresses you by your name, and not insults he typically used on others e.g. extras, nerd, idiot.

He is protective.

he is always quick on his feet in getting you out of sticky situations most of the time. tied to being subtlysoft!Bakugou in my previous point (duh), he demonstrated his ability to be cool-headed and efficient when he got you out of the situation with the two upperclassmen.

sometimes if he could in stimulation exercises, he would be try to get you to come along whenever he went on his own way with Kirishima and Denki.

“stay close.” he would mutter in a grudging gruff tone as he bashfully tug you along, away from the rest of the class as we all know he always do in the canon.

He is rather thoughtful and considerate when it’s you.

once you didn’t turn up for school and he kept glancing over at your empty desk, concerned. he found out that you were down with a bad cold and was being taken care of by Recovery Girl in the infantry. Exams were just two weeks away so he secretly took down notes for you.

When you recovered, he made fun of Kirishima’s “shitty grades” and somehow managed to get Kirishima to start a study session with you included; his main motive was so he could help you catch up without you learning about his true intentions. (kuudere much, Bakugou -__-)

you are a priority, and eventually a goal as well.

as bakugou matures alongside you and Class 1A through the years, he will gradually accept that life isn’t only about hero stuff, being number one or putting that stupid nerd Izuku in his fucking place. (i love midoriya okay, this is just bakugou being bakugou hahah) Or at least he didn’t want his life to be merely about all that. You were also his goal, in fact, one of his biggest goals. He isn’t exactly a big fan of screeching little spawns of the devils but he could live with it if they were part of a future with you.

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internalsealpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Camp Crystal What?

summary: Camp Crystal Lake is a fine and dandy place to spend your summer, said no one ever. You are inclined to agree with that and so are Damian and Jon.

a/n: I am back from retirement with a REEEEEEAAAAALLLLY long crack fic. (This is long as shit by my standards. Leave me alone.) This was co written and edited by my wife @littleredwing89. She was also the biggest enabler for this. I tried to give reader some executive dysfuction but I don’t think it worked out well. We’ll see. This is my first super sons fic please feel free to roast it.

warnings: This really self indulgent and really long. You would think I would have more gore in a slasher film based fic. No. Apparently not.

masterlist

Jon cackles, his chin lifting only slightly from its perch on your shoulder just enough for you to fully hear the petty sound. You tilt your switch, sticking out your tongue in a vain attempt to avoid Damian’s blue shell. You cry out, throwing your arms up in exasperation as the shell hits you just as you were about to cross the finish line. Your outstretched prosthetic arm nearly hitting Jon in the process, not that you felt too bad about that considering…

“Yeah! Got ‘em, Dami!” Jon says, high fiving a smug-looking Damian beside you. You glare at Jon, who was still leaning against you like you weren’t about to bite his head off. “Whose side are you on?”

“Justice!” This draws a snort out of both Tim and Jason who were both sitting in the back.

“No, you’re not!”

“Yes, I am!”

“He is, (l/n). You needed to be cut down to size," Damian declares, subtly brandishing his screen showing Rozalina doing a little victory lap in her kart as her little star guy floated around her. You pout at him, puffing your cheeks like an unruly chipmunk as you cross your arms over your chest. This only serves to make Damian all the smugger and Jon all the more gleeful at your loss.

You turn the full force of your ire on Jon who was smiling innocently at you, big blue eyes sparkling reminding you of your husky, Yoohoo. You’re about to say something scathing but stop instead deciding to stew in your loss and sulk as you hand Jon your Switch. You’d think he would be more prepared since he was the one who insisted on coming with you to this camp. Now that you think about it, why were they here? All you remember is telling Jon that you couldn’t go visit him over the summer because your parents were sticking you in a summer camp while they go abroad for something and the next thing you know is that you’re in an SUV with Jon, Damian, Damian’s older brother’s, and their friend(?). Whatever she was to them Damiam never adequately explained like everything else. Though you suspect she was Dick’s wife judging from how little they cared whether the other invaded their space. The lack of a wedding ring made you unsure.

You let out a little huff, melting into your oversized Gotham U hoodie, letting Jon lean on you despite your sour mood and touch aversion. You lean against him in return and watch as Yoshi zips past Rosalina in mild petty satisfaction.

You all file out of the car, drowsy and irritable. You muss Jon’s bed head into an even more tangled mess. Neither of you tells Damian about the streak of drool on his face. Tim shuffles the three of you towards the convenience store while Jason politely explains to the mechanic that he’s wrong, Dick orders lunch at the diner and makes a call back to Gotham presumably to make sure Wayne industries isn’t burning down.

Over your shoulder, you can see Jason’s form working hard not to look threatening. It’s not working or maybe the mechanic was shaking because Faust isn’t even trying to hide the irritation wicking off of her.

“He wha-” Tim pinches the bridge of his nose muttering something about Mr.Wayne. He looks pained. Tim hands you a wad of one-dollar bills as his voice takes Timothy Wayne's public speaker pitch. All of the Wayne’s seem to have three voices. Their Wayne voice, their vigilante voice, and their normal voice. Mr. Wayne has the most distinct voice. Dick’s was honestly really hard to distinguish.

You count the wad of cash in your hand as Jon grabs a basket from the pile. You note, with amusement, that at least five of the bills had variations of ‘don’t buy cereal’ written on them in distinct handwriting.

“Kent, are you planning to put the entire store in the basket?”

“Nah, just the good stuff.”

You marvel at the amount of food Jon managed stockpile in your basket while you were distracted.

“Uh, Jon, we don’t need that much.” Plus, I don’t think we can eat all of that.

“They’re right,” Damian chides, making Jon pout.

After a healthy amount of debate, two almost food fights, a near fistfight, and your attempt at puppy dog eyes, you finally narrow the snacks down and even have enough money left for slushies. You shrug at her, adding more blue than necessary. There weren’t rules against this. Plus, it was tastier this way.

“Dami, what flavor do you want?” Jon shouts from the slushie machine. Beside him, you swirl a mix of red, green, pink, and blue slushies. The lady at the counter was wrinkling her nose at you the way Dami is wrinkling his nose at Jon.

Jon’s big cup of neon blue smoothie dropped to the floor in a loud clatter.

“You’re all doomed! He’s coming. He’s coming! That place is cursed!” The scraggly man screams as he shakes Jon. Damian’s lip tries not to curl in amusement as you both watch the scene unfold. Out of context, this was horrifying. In context, it was hilarious especially considering how badly Jon is acting. The clerk at the counter looks appropriately horrified. You look at Jon, feeling a twinge of worry. He’s not in danger. You know that but you can’t help it.

Your concoction flies into the man’s face in no time flat and Jon scrambles to your side as soon as the man drops him. You step in front of him bracing for further confrontation but the man simply walks off muttering about something you couldn’t hear over the beating of your heart.

“Exactly, why am I in the back?” Jason whines, unfolding and refolding himself, not quite sure where to place what limb in the cramped back row of the SUV. You let out a giggle which earns you a rather harsh glare from an already irate Jason. Damian glares back at him for you, in an oddly protective gesture, and you can’t help but feel strangely smug about it.

They glower at each other for a few minutes. Jason, probably knowing this was a stalemate, turns his attention towards the front of the vehicle, sharp green eyes narrowing at the rearview mirror. “Shouldn’t Faust’s short ass be in the back with Timbo and the Three Tiny Terrors?”

You hear an amused huff from the front along with the loud crinkling and shuffling of the map. Faust glances over her shoulder, the bright mischief in her eyes contrasting with the rich brown of her skin. You wonder if everyone in Damian and Jon’s lives were all this pretty. An almost smile quirks on the edges of her lips as she says “You didn’t call shotgun~”

Jason hisses something colorful behind you. Tim, beside him, is chuckling either from Jason’s misery or, based on the defeated cry coming from Jon, having just nailed Yoshi with lightning. Could be both. It was likely.

Jason, looking positively annoyed, unfolds himself and violently settles his feet on Tim’s lap. Tim yelps then says something close to a swear word. Jason grins lazily looking more like a cat as he leans back. This time Jon cries out in joy, the victory music blaring from your switch. Again, Tim hisses something edging towards a curse word. Jon wriggles out of his seat and fist bumps Jason who returns the gesture enthusiastically. In the reflection on the windshield, you can clearly see the amusement in Dick’s smile. Even to your right, Damian seems amused if not outright gleeful at seeing Tim’s misery. You couldn’t quite tell. You weren’t a master of reading Waynes yet. You would turn to Jon but he wasn't fluent either. Faust told you that it would take a while which just meant that you would never master it. Reading people was hard enough as it was. There was always something difficult about interpreting social signals. It was so easy to get them wrong and when you add in the complication of being a vigilante you just found yourself frustrated. You slump into the seat feeling the frustration writhing under your skin. Jon noticing your frustration eases up and gives you a little more space.

"So, what's with the map?" Tim asks, throwing Jason's feet back at him and handing you his switch. Faust wrinkles her nose at the offending piece of paper. "Well, Dicktopus here insisted on the authentic road trip atmosphere complete with bad cell signal, a map, and oh right, getting lost." Dick gives her a look which Faust just shrugs it off.

"Like what? The Goofy movie?" Tim asks incredulously, his brows wrinkling in the rearview mirror as he gives Dick a withering look.

Faust snorts in confirmation. Jon’s face crumples in confusion. You make a small hiccupping noise mimicking the noise that passes for Goofy's laugh and you see as the bleary memory clicks into place. "You mean the old movie we watched last night?"

"It's old but gold," Dick defends fervently, earning him an indulgent smile from Faust and a withering look from Damian. Damian shrinks into his seat unwilling to expend too much effort defending his mentor's taste in movies despite him enjoying the movie. You did too but you wanted to see how this would play out. Behind you, Jason shifts, a shark-like grin plastered across his face. " Just because that's the movie you modeled your life after, Big Bird, doesn't mean it's good."

Dick makes this affronted noise that makes him sound a little like he's squawking. "It's a good movie and you know it!" Dick says earnestly, scowling at a still cocky Jason through the reflection in the windshield. You see Damian, Jason, Faust, and Tim's eyes meet in the rearview mirror, all shining conspiratorially. You and Jon give each other a look, each looking like you're bracing for disaster.

"Dunno, Dick, I think the second one was soooo much better," Tim pipes up finally. It sounds like the spark lighting a trail of gunpowder towards a powder keg.

"I have to agree with Drake," Damian says honestly sounding pained.

Faust rewards him with a conspiratorial smile which makes Damian ease a little. The gesture from what you understood roughly translated to 'it was for the greater good.' "So much for your taste in movies, Dickens," Faust teases, poking a finger at Dick’s shoulder.

"You're one to talk!" Dick says, rolling his eyes childishly.

Faust twists her body to look at all 5 of you, winking at you and Jon as if she was about to perform a magic trick, which wasn't off the table since she could actually pull weapons from her tattooed skin. "You guys loved Lake Placid, right?"

Playing along, you each gave varying sounds of agreement til Dick finally threw his hands up in exasperation. "HEATHENS!" Faust looks pleased as punch at this reaction. You giggle as Dick groans into the steering wheel as you slow to a stop in front of a cross-section.

"Traitors all of you," Dick says, resting his arm on the back of his seat and giving all of you a halfhearted scowl. He kind of looked like Yoohoo when you refused to give him treats.

You all bask in Dick’s misery. You even catch Jon giggling at Dick’s frown despite himself. The rest were completely unrepentant. They don't even bother to hide the self-satisfied smiles on their faces, least of all Damian who vehemently protested to being subjected to such drivel. This is, of course, ignoring the fact that he had watched the movie with the same rapt attention as you and Jon. You all enjoyed the movie just as much as Dick did but it was much funnier to gang up on him.

Dick continues to argue his point as all of you offer, frankly, bogus arguments that you say with as much conviction as Dick levels against you. The banter continues in a rather jaunty rhythm until a fallen tree forces the car into a rather abrupt stop.

"Shit!" Jason hisses at full volume as his knees hit the back of Damian’s seat which draws out a soft 'oof' from Damian which quickly reshapes into a snarl. Tim and Damian give Jason a look of mock sympathy. Jason raises his middle finger in a vaguely familiar gesture.

"Jason!" Dick says, cutting off your train of thought much to your frustration. You contemplate hissing some colorful words yourself.

Jason grunts, probably rubbing his shins. "They've heard, said, and done worse." You hear Jon protest beside you but it's quickly cut off by a 'not you' from somewhere.

Then it hits you. "Oh yeah! Dami did that hand thingy when he drop-kicked someone during lunch," you admit conversationally.

"Dami!"

Damian gives you an absolutely betrayed look. You shrug at him not entirely sure what was wrong. You shrink a little and Damian pulls back a little but still glares.

"Didn't you hear him say the F-word?" Jon adds. You blink at him, running through your memory like a film reel and turning up nothing. "Some of us don't have super hearing," you supply with no real anger behind it.

"Ope, sorry, (y/n)." You shrug at him congenially as he smiles sheepishly at you. No harm no foul.

"Kent!"

"Oh- Uh, sorry, Dami."

Damian doesn't look appeased at all by this.

“Ok, so we’re just gonna skip over the fact that he drop-kicked someone?” Tim asks, raising a brow and you find yourself thinking, “Well, yeah. He’s Robin. That’s kinda his thing.”

Jason snorts beside him, seemingly less irritable now that Dick’s attention was directed elsewhere. “He didn’t get caught soooo..”

“Jason!”

“Jason, we’re not supposed to be obvious about being terrible influences.” Faust jokes, now redirecting Dick’s ire to her. You can’t tell if that was intentional or not but either way she seems to be enjoying how Dick’s expression makes him look like a carp gasping for air.

“Why did you tell them?” Damian hisses, albeit softer than he normally does. You frown at him confused. You thought it was spectacular and you really don’t know what was wrong. You really wish they’d explain it. Maybe you should speak up but would that be rude? You stare at Damian trying your hardest to convey your confusion but you’re having trouble shaping your face into the correct one. You try to keep in mind the face Jon makes when Damian tried to explain quantum physics to both of you.

Turning away from her argument with Dick, Faust looks at you pityingly before speaking and putting her hand up to Dick’s face lightly pushing him back. “Relax, Baby Vamp, I would’ve gotten it out of them sooner or later,” Faust says, looking at you with the same stern look Mr. Pennyworth gives you when you try to steal cookies. It kind of reminds you of the Penance Stare from Ghost Riders but with less flaming skulls and more implied disappointment.

“Tim was the one who ate the last few pieces of the brownies Mr. Pennyworth made for Jason.” The words flow out of you like water from a cataract. Faust waves her hand theatrically as if she had just demonstrated a magic trick. Again, you’re pretty sure this was one. You wince fully expecting Tim to have the same caustic reaction as Damian. But when you turn to look at him to apologize, Tim already had his hands up in front of him defensively. On the other side, not far enough away for Tim’s liking, Jason looks livid, steam coming out of his ears.

“Those were mine, asshole!”

“You eat them every time you’re at the Manor!”

“When I’m at the Manor! Which is what? Once every three months?”

“Two,” Tim deadpans, holding up two fingers.

That was the wrong thing to say, you realize. From the way they’re staring at each other, you’re a little afraid they’d come to blows as Jason surges forward.

“Tim, Jay, I will turn this car around if you two don’t stop.”

“Please, continue.” Dick shoots Damian a ‘you are not helping’ glare but Damian simply answers with a warning one. They all look ready for a brawl and all you want to do is curl up into your oversized hoodie. You play with the frayed edges of your hoodie hoping you’re radiating your discomfort.

And like an angel of mercy, Faust clears her throat. “(Y/n), Jon, help me clear the road.” The statement leaves no room for argument and you and Jon breathe a collective sigh of relief.

Jon lifts the tree with ease. It was an oddly healthy tree, freshly cut. Something about it made your stomach turn. “Jon could have done it alone. Why bring me?” You ask, distracting yourself from the strange feeling by fiddling with the joints of your metal hand which only made you more conscious of how pointless it was to bring you along. Faust glances towards the car. The boys are still bickering. She then glances down at you with a wry smile. “Waynes bickering is really funny from a distance.” Your eyes glance at the light scar on her running down her clavicle, disappearing into the line of her shirt. You doubt it’s from any of them. You really doubt it. The Wayne kids were chaotic, especially the girls, but they’re never- Well, they can be hurtful but not that way. Not that you’ve seen anyway. You shake your head and glance at the car and watch them argue. Their gestures are animated and loud enough that you could almost hear the bickering going on. This liveliness settles your stomach.

You spend a few minutes out there waiting for them to settle down. It was long enough for you and Jon to start debating the existence of Gummy Bear shaped aliens and for Faust to weigh in with her humble opinion. Dick honks at the three of you to tell you it was, relatively, safe to come back. Tim, Damian, and Jason were all sulking in their respective corners while Dick gives you and Jon an apologetic look. Jon simply shrugs as if to say it was normal for brothers to argue but you found it hard to picture Conner ever being that mean to Jon or vice versa for that matter. Faust rolls her eyes at the sulking birds, a fond smile quirking on her lips. Dick gives her a look that was usually followed by the words ‘I miss not being the adult’ which she graciously answers with a smile that plainly says ‘me too.’

In the corner of your eye, you see something- a shadow- move in the woods as you drive off, Dick’s story about space aliens falling away into the background. You turn to Jon who looks at you confused and a little concerned. It was clear he didn’t see it, whatever it was. You turn to Damian but see he’s still stewing. You blin and the shadow is gone. A sticky feeling of dread settles in your stomach.

There's pressure in the car.

The camp is, well, loud.

Louder than you were expecting and full of rowdier children than promised. You wince slightly, ears ringing. You and Damian sigh already knowing that you were both going to be absolutely exhausted by the end of this. You turn to Jon, shoulder slumping, only to find him beaming as he watched the other kids run around. There were alot of days you envied Jon and this was one of them. Damian looks at Jon with utter disbelief. You shrug at him as he wrinkles his nose at both Jon and the hooligans running around. Your lip quirks into a scraggly smile fully understanding.

“This is going to be repulsive,” Damian hisses.

“Lighten up, Dami.”

“Nah, he’s gotta practice being dark and brooding, so when he gets to be the big bad bat he can do the whole brooding thing all-natural,” you joke, using your finger to mimic the ears of Batman’s cowl.

“Please, say that louder. I don’t think the supervillains heard you,” says Damian sarcastically, nose upturned.

Jon grins at you in a challenge. You raise a brow, crossing your arms. Your brain cell takes a vacation.

“HE’S GOTTA-” Damian clamps a hand on your mouth. You glare at him. His eye flicks to Jon who is sucking in a breath. Damian is throwing his other hand over Jon’s mouth when one of the counselors waves you over. All three of you blanch at the color of the shirt.

You all stand in an odd misshapen circle. Damian looks incredulously at the tacky camp T-shirt he’s been forced into while Jon does not contain his laughter. You joke about how a bowtie would definitely class it up which earns you a rude gesture that just makes you laugh harder.

“Alright kiddos, it’s time to introduce ourselves!”

Damian froze under the weight of their collective gazes, the hint of a smile on his face fading. Sometimes being around you and Jon made him forget. Well, not really forget. It was just easier not to think about it when you two were around. Damian feels himself shifting, realigning himself to 5’ 2” of cold arrogance.

It should have scared you just how easily the warm fondness on his face smoothed out giving way to this cold calculating face. It did on some level; on some level, the efficiency of Damian’s face muscles scared you. Sometimes you had to wonder if it was just him or if his brothers had the same knee-jerk reaction.

You roll your eyes as if nothing worrying had happened and bump your shoulder against his. A smile twitches on his lip and the ramrod shape of his spine curves a bit. Jon snickers, not trying too hard to hide it, which earns him the full force of Damian’s ire but you and Jon know all too well that Damian’s just being prickly. You step forward, shoulders broadening, nudging a glaring Damian behind you redirecting everyone’s stares towards you. It’s uncomfortable but you don’t mind. Damian huff behind you but doesn’t protest any more than that. You smile amicably or as amicably as you can. You need to remember the correct shape.

Introductions go off without a hitch.

Jon, like always, has no trouble stirring the crowd.

You make an impression when your introduction careens into a tangent about angelfish.

Behind you, Damian scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. Contrary to popular belief, Damian did have a tendency to be nervous, especially around new people. This is compounded by the fact that Damian wasn’t really versed in dealing with people his own age which just put him on edge.

Thankfully, all three of you get sorted into the same cabin. The cabin is chaotic in a familiar, childish sort of way with pillows flying everywhere and kids jumping up and down their bed. Jon immediately jumps into the fray. Damian follows soon after Jon hits him with a pillow square in the face.

“Woman up and face me, Kent!”

You look up to the sky and smile in amusement. This is going to be an interesting summer.

The room is solid.

Your eyes incandescent in the darkness. The air crackles in anticipation of the storm.

A silver streak of lightning tears down through the heavens and crashes down into the lake.

A strange dislocation in the universe has emerged.

Your eyes shut.

Your ears pop.

You do not hear as something mangled rises from the water.

You wanted to say this was a horrible idea. Though, you’re not sure how to phrase that without implying they’re idiots. You’ve been hanging out with Damian too much. He’s starting to rub off on you and you’re mildly concerned.

You’d told them that the whole fight was your fault. Ok, not entirely. You simply told the kid off when he was making fun of Jon and you were not gonna stand for that. The kid shoved you, Damian 'accidentally' broke his nose, and the next thing you know is that you’ve been shoved into a random group of campers.It’s been a week but you still weren’t familiar with a lot of the people in the camp. The man with kind eyes said this would be good for you. You really would have preferred staying at the campgrounds, cleaning and doing whatever with the people in your cabin.

“Alright, kiddos, you guys can go swim while me and Jos go check something out in the woods.”

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t!”

You sniff and bite your tongue, playing with the hem of your shirt.

"You sure they're gonna be ok?"

"What you think they're gonna disappear like Cat?"

Your ears perk up at this.

"Well, I mean-"

"She probably just ran off with one of the town boys."

This was probably the best time to bring up child endangerment protocols or the fact that you’re not even dressed for swimming. By the time you string the correct combination of words, they’re gone. You sigh and huddle yourself into a tree. It’s not like you’re dressed to swim anyway even if you wanted to.

You hug your knees as you flatten yourself against the tree, making sure your prosthetic limb is tucked beneath your normal one. You watch the others as they horse around looking like they’re really enjoying themselves. They probably didn’t realize you were there or did they even notice you join the group. Doesn’t matter really. Right now you would prefer to sit under the tree than risking your arm. Mr. Fox had explained that since it was still a prototype it was delicate.

“HEY!”

You jump. Your skin feeling very confined. You turn to the voice. Jesse, you think.

“Sorry. Could you- can you say that again?”

She rolls her eyes at you and you suddenly doubt the politeness of your speech but no you were pretty sure that was the correct way to say it.

“I said ‘can your arm go in the water?’.”

Oh.

“No?” You were half sure it couldn’t. You haven’t really tested it since it was easier to bathe without it. She gives you a skeptical look and yanks your arm towards her. You yelp. “Hey! What are you-” Your throat tightens when you find yourself at the dock. It’s shaky. The slightest shifting made it move.

You turn your heel mumbling an apology but your arm is yanked back. The grip is stronger now. You look back and see two people holding on to it. “Let go!” you say, trying to wrench yourself free. “It’s- it’s not a toy,” you add but they don’t budge.

“You’re being a baby!”

“C’mon (y/n)!”

“Let’s see how well robots can swim!”

You scream as they throw you into the water.

You thrash your limbs around, grasping for something, anything but all you can feel is the viscous emptiness deforming and reforming with every splash.

You cry out.

The water muffles your screams along with the distant sound of laughter and heckling.

Your mouth is filling with water.

Your lungs. Your lungs are burning.

Your chest aches.

You can’t breathe.

Help!

Please!

Someone!

It hurts.

Your vision is pulsing. The edges are going dark.

Your limbs are going numb and falling to pieces.

The world is sinking.

It’s so dark.

It’s too cold.

Why are you alone?

Where are they?

You don’t want to die like this.

You feel a large hand fish you out by the scruff of your shirt. It tosses you onto the shore; the force as you hit the ground knocks the air (water?) out of your lungs. You heave, gasping like a fish. A large silhouette hangs over you, cold dread licks up your spine but you note a lack of panic. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen.

Your vision comes back in pieces and by the time the world puzzles back together, you’re alone. You’re alone and shivering like a wet rat. You look around, brushing wet hair out of your eyes and you realize you’re not entirely sure of the way back. You curl in on yourself. It does nothing to warm you but you were desperate to feel whole and safe and ok.

You aren’t entirely sure how long it is before Jon and Damian find you or just how they managed it but you’re thankful when someone drapes a heavy towel over your head, muffling the scattered sounds around you. Shakily, you pull the towel over your face. It hides the tears well enough. Your loose hanging limbs tighten around you. You want to shrink, small enough to smooth over the trembling in your body. You know they’ve saved people from drowning before. They’ve saved people from far worse. Heck, they’ve been through far worse. You desperately don’t want them to think of you as weak, as less but here you were trembling. You’re unable to steady your own breathing. Frustration rises in the back of your throat. It is a welcome change from the nonstop medley of panic that’s been shoved on you.

A hand settles itself on your head, the movement stiff, light, and controlled. The pressure increases a touch when you don’t protest. Damian radiates awkwardness as he attempts to ruffle your still-damp hair. You smile up at him through damp hair. Damian simply grunts as he continues to avoid eye contact by staring out at the empty lake.

Jon plops down next to you kicking his feet out in front of him. He gives your space but he’s just close enough for you to lean against if you wanted to. On his shoulder was your ratty oversized hoodie. You tug at his sleeve to ask for it. He hands it to you. You slip it on, not caring that you were still soggy. The familiar, loose weight of fabric against your skin made you feel whole and safe and marginally ok.

Jon presses a hand onto your back mimicking the experimental way Damian had patted your damp hair. He listens to the steadying rhythm of your heart, his own easing back into a calmer rhythm. Damian raises a brow at him and he gives him a thumbs up. Damian’s shoulders loosen and Jon can’t help the snort that comes out of him. You look at him startled and Damian gives him the ol’ Damian glare which makes him laugh out loud. Your eyes flicker to Damian and then roll your eyes, crow's feet wrinkling in the corners of your eyes. You twist your mouth into a weird squiggly line in an attempt to smother a laugh in fear of incurring Damian’s wrath. Jon highly doubts you’d be able to. Damian was, in fact, a big old softie. Sure, he acts grumpy all the time but spending so much time with both Dick and Faust has made him pretty mushy by bat standards but Jon wouldn’t dare say that out loud, at least, not when Damian looked this close to throwing him into the water.

You spend a long time soaking up the quiet before heading back. Jon slings an arm around you but pulls it back when he hears your heart stutter. You pinch and tug at his sleeve and mumble an apology. You see Damian shoot Jon his version of the Pennyworth look.

“Sorry, (y/n).”

“‘S ok,” you rasp quietly.

You three walk along the shore towards the cap. You feel too tired to even blanch at the odd feeling of wet socks as you pad along the path. You walk in silence which is interrupted by a bird call here and there with either you or Jon occasionally asking Damian to translate. He does but for some reason some odd reason, they keep calling you idiot or imbeciles. You watch Damian’s eyes flick here and there. You know he feels it too. The odd feeling of being watched. The rustle of leaves echoes eerily in the stillness.

The counselors, mercifully, let you skip out on the rest of the afternoon’s activities. You curl up in your cabin, warm and very comfortable in the pool of fabric created by one of Mr. Kent’s hoodies which Jon ‘accidentally’ packed. You rolled your eyes at him but accepted it gratefully. You make a mental note to thank him with the mill house cookies you ‘accidentally’ bought at one of the rest stops.

You flip through the yellowing pages of the book in your hand. You aren’t quite sure how to describe how inappropriate it is to give a drowning victim a book on the complete works of H.P. Lovecraft. Then again, it was better than reading Moby Dick. Plus, you’re enjoying yourself trying to find a man who is about as stealthy as a Green Lantern. You’ll have to ask Damian or Jon. Damian’s more likely to have met a Green Lantern but he’s also more likely to give you a boring and entirely inaccurate answer.

You go back to the fish people. Do Atlanteans walk like that? Maybe. It feels odd somehow moving around without your prosthetic limb. Lighter but infinitely more unstable.

“Do you think they’ll find Cat?”

Your ears perk up. Your eyes flick to the window and you see two counselors leaning against another cabin. You shuffle awkwardly somehow moving the mass of cloth quietly. You squish against the wall making sure they can’t see you.

“Cat just ran off. You know how she is.”

“That’s what Raz said.”

“Yeah, where is he?”

“Who knows he’s probably just fucking around in the woods. Doing Bear Grylls shit or something.”

“Hope he comes back soon.”

“Do you really wanna deal with that horny jackass?”

“No but he’s the only decent cook. Do you really wanna taste what awful concoction Ratty has for us?”

Your stomach curdles remembering Ratty’s terrible improvisation of Doro Wat. Ratty said it was their grandmother’s recipe but you doubted it. Unlike the one Jason made for you one time, it was bland. It wasn’t even close to spicy. The vegetables were overcooked while the chicken was somehow undercooked. In short, you had nearly died twice since you got here.

“Nope. I’d rather starve. Isn’t their cooking like a human rights violation?”

Starvation would be a kinder death.

“Yeah. Anyway, I tried asking Jos. Apparently, Raz and a bunch of the other Lil shits have been fucking around in town.”

“Is that where Jackie disappeared to?”

“Probably.”

Ok, so the counselors have been dropping like flies and you have yet to notice. You should probably tell Damian and Jon. Something about this seems wrong.

“Are you ever gonna stop glaring at them?” you ask, plopping on to the log letting your empty sleeve hang loosely off to your side.

“Depends, have they apologized?”

“Ye-”

“Sincerely?”

“Well-”

“Then no.”

“Ok, but does Jon have to pout at them?”

“I’m not pouting!”

“Wait… That’s your glare?”

“Yeah?” Jons says furrowing his brow.

“Batcow’s given me better glares!”

“Again, (l/n) is right.”

“Thank you!”

“Dami, who’s side are you on?”

Damian’s lips curl into a cat-like smile, the kind you saw on Selina. “Justice.”

Jon throws his hands up defeated. You give Damian a low five as he settles beside you. Jon takes the seat on your other side still pouting.

"Do you kids know the rules to surviving a horror movie?"

The chattering dies down and you all fall silent, turning your full attention to the counselor. Your counselor lets out an absolutely delighted squeal, clapping their hands. You don’t miss the absolute dread on your other counselor’s face.

“Ok so, rule 1: Be a virgin-”

“Ratty!” Dawes, the counselor with dread on her face, squeaks elbowing Ratty, Ratchet. “Couldn’t you have worded it differently or you know, not at all?!” Ratty, the horror enthusiast counselor, rubs their arm and sticks their tongue out at Dawes who looks like she’s going to age ten years during this conversation.

If you thought Dawes was pale before, she nearly turns transparent with the next few words that leave your mouth. “What’s a virgin?” you blurt out. You desperately want to curl in on yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t know. It was just your mouth runs faster than your mind. The kids around you snicker and one of the boys behind you claps you on the shoulder, laughing loudly. You lean on Damian, hiding behind him slightly. Damian shifts so he’s shielding you more.

Dawes sputters out her answer. It’s hard to understand. You watch the others searching for clues for an appropriate reaction.

“It’s a person who’s never had intercourse,” Damian deadpans and you nod quietly.

Dawes’ face lights up like a Christmas tree while Ratty’s twists into pure joy. Damian rolls his eyes as the other kids laugh even louder. It takes a moment but your cheeks heat up realizing the gap in your reaction must have given them the wrong idea. You pinch the bridge of your nose and you sigh. You see Jon snort at you and you stick your tongue out at him.

“See, Dawes, they know.”

“What about keeping them innocent?!”

“I’m not getting paid to do that,” Dawes drags her hand over her face as Ratty shrugs,” ’sides, this is life skills.” Dawes slaps Ratty on the shoulder again making them whine at the impact. “Ok. Ok. Fine. Fine. Jeez, you hit like a son of a- Oh wait, have any of you heard about Camp Blood?”

This gets you all to quiet down.

“Camp Blood? Isn’t that like a video game?”

“It’s like a local ghost story isn’t it?”

“Wasn’t that the one with the fish-”

“It’s not the fish people.”

“Let me tell the story!”

“Ratty, you never tell the story well. You keep making weird voices and you can’t even keep a straight face.”

“SLANDER,” Ratty shouts, throwing up their hands.

“Pffft, you also gonna tell us you can cook a 5-star meal?”

“Ok. Ok. Fine. I’ll just tell it to them straight.”

“What? As straight as Dawes?”

“Pffft, we’d go in circles.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true!”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“What’s the thing about Camp Blood?” Jon pipes, putting a hand over Damian’s mouth probably sensing the sharp remark he’s about to say. Damian licks his hand and Jon pulls away waving his hand like he’s been burned. You snort then blanch when Jon rubs the spit on to your hoodie.

“Gather round children-”

“Ratty, they’re in a circle get on with it.”

“I AM TRYING TO SET THE MOOD.”

“Jesus, ok. So, a looong time ago there was this kid named Jason Voorhes. When two counselors were fu- OW! Jeez, Dawes- Ow! Ok, fine. While two counselors were distracted, he drowned-”

“Sounds familiar,” snipes Damian. An apologetic look crosses Dawes’ face, a confused one on Ratty’s, and sheepish one on Jos’. You squeeze his and Jon’s shoulders.

Ratty shakes their head. “Anyway, they never find the body so his mom comes back and hacks the new counselors into pieces as some soft of demented justice for her kid.”

“That’s a bit of an overreaction,” Jos laughs awkwardly. The glares on them do not waver. You elbow Damian and kick Jon’s foot. Damian ignores you while Jon gives you a look of mock hurt. You roll your eyes at him and attempt to elbow Damian a second time. Again, nothing.

“The thing is one of the counselors actually manages to decapitate Mrs. Voorhees. She disappeared two months after though. Legend has it that Jason still roams the grounds of Camp Blood seeking revenge for his mother.”

The air is humming, thick with the roll of thunder and the premonition of a storm.

There is a dislocation in the universe.

Your ears pop.

You look at Jon who looks vaguely like his mother when she’s sniffed out a story. You look at Damian who is already sussing out every detail of the story. Your eyes meet and you all nod.

“It has to be someone using the urban legend as some sort of cover. Or! Or maybe they’re using the urban legend to mythologize their killings,” you say, through a mouth full of contraband chocolate chip cookies.

Damian snatches the package from you taking a piece.“(l/n), that’s ridiculous-”

“Yeah, we don’t even know if they’re dead yet,” Jon protests, snatching the bag from a scowling Damian.

“What are the odds they’re still alive?”

You all fall silent. “We assume they’re still alive until we see proof of the contrary,” Damian says firmly. You and Jon nod. The movement feels heavy.

“But what if the Jason ghost is a real thing?”

“Possible.”

“(l/n), don’t indulge him.”

“Jon is literally part alien,” you protest

“Jason has come back from the dead and Faust literally has moving tattoos,” Jon adds.

“YOUR DAD IS LITERALLY BEST FRIENDS WITH A 5000-YEAR-OLD AMAZONIAN AND A DUDE WHO CAN LIFT BUILDINGS.”

“Ok, fine but we should eliminate the more mundane explanations first,” Damian concedes accepting another cookie.

“I think we have. It’s too rapid and obvious to be a human trafficking operation.”

“We should find the counselors first.”

“Yeah, that’s a start.”

“Where should we start?”

“Abandoned cabins would be a good start,” you suggest trying not to perk up.

Damian glares at you and you wither. “(l/n), you’re not coming with us.”

“You say this like (y/n)’s gonna listen,” Jon laughs.

“ET has a point,” you say, grinning and opening another packet. You offer Jon the first cookie as thanks.

“Can’t I at least be a cool alien?”

“Nope.”

“Will you two focus?”

“Yeah. No.”

Damian pinches his nose. You completely understand why people think Damian makes a convincing fifty year old. “(l/n)...”

“Ok, fiiiine. I’ll stay out of it.”

“Don’t even think about sneaking out.”

You frown and nod.

You tiptoe through the brush, one metallic arm wrapped around you, the other hanging limply to your side flashlight clasped tight in your metallic hand. Camp Blood isn’t too far. You silently survey a few cabins finding nothing particularly interesting aside from cobwebs and potentially dead animals. The air is musty and decayed. You sniff and rub your nose as you walk through the camp guided only by strips of moonlight. If you were to run into a murderer now, you would only have your flashlight to defend you. You didn’t like those odds.

You’re a deer in headlights.

Dry mouth.

Skin going cold.

A scream burbling in the back of your throat.

The lumbering figure is coming closer.

You know he can see you.

Your feet are fused to the ground.

The light of the machete winking at you from a distance.

The world turns into a blur when your back hits the rotting wood of the abandoned cabin.

“What did I say about sneaking out?” Damian hisses, arm pressed on your neck. You blink. A flood of relief crowds your chest.

You sling your arms around him and he stiffens. You explain away the surprised little yelp as something animal and not something from your friend. “I didn’t sneak out. I went to the bathroom then I wandered off,” you mumble.

“How exactly is that different?”

“Less tiptoeing.”

"Funny."

"It is."

"Have you seen Kent?"

"Sadly no."

"Shit- Don't tell Grayson."

"The fact that you swore or the fact that you somehow lost Superman's kid"

He glares at you and you can't help but shrug.

"Both."

"Fair," you say, pausing for half a breath.”Did you find the hostages?”

Damian’s face falls then hardens then you know better than to ask him.

“We should find Jon,” Damian says finally. You flick your eyes and shake your head pushing down the urge to make fun of his slip. You’ll tell Jon later.

You two walk together, shoes in hand. It was easier. Maybe after this, you’ll ask Tim to teach you how to sneak around.

The sound of crashing wood fills the still night air. You and Damian freeze.

“JON.” Damian is the first to launch himself towards a cabin. You shamble behind him, plodding through the muddy earth as fat droplets of rain splashing down. You would have blanched at the squishing but all you could think about was Jon.

“Jon!”

“Dami! (y/n)!”

“Are you ok?”

“I’m in a hole. What do you think?”

You look him over as best you can in the dark. Damian seems to be having a better time. “You’re not in pain, so yeah.”

Jon huffs, shifting around in the pile of clothes. His nose wrinkles.“This jumper smells like something died in it," he says holding up a particularly old looking sweater. It's blotchy with various stains around the neck.

“Check for a pulse!” you shout, earning a sharp jab to the rib from Damian. You glare and rub your chest.

“Guys, I don’t wanna alarm you but I’m pretty sure there’s a decapitated head down here”

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Damian asks incredulously. Your skin drains of all color and warmth.

“Do you want the good news or bad news?”

“That’s not-”

“Where in that pile of bloody clothes did you get good news?”

“Good news is he’s not here,” Jon says, eyes sweeping around.”Bad news, he’s actually real.”

“Stop messing around and get out of there, Kent!”

“Jon, come on! Fly or something!”

“My powers are going-” Jon jumps. But only manage to just fall back down. “I can’t fly.”

Damian groans. He pinches his nose and goes off to look for something to pull Jon up with.

“Why do you think your powers aren’t working?”

Jon shrugs. “Magic?” This place is cursed.

“We are dealing with a ghost,” you shrug back. You all freeze. The sound of distant footsteps making your heart race.

“Dami!” you hiss, over your shoulder.

“I can’t find anything!”

“Wait,” you say, unfastening your arm and reaching down to Jon. Damian grabs hold of it with both hands and you two start pulling Jon up.

The footsteps are getting louder, closer.

"Hurry!" you hiss quietly.

Your hearts are racing.

You pull, Jon getting closer.

He’s almost in arm’s reach.

The man is getting closer.

You can hear his breathing.

You pull Jon up, feet kicking. You wrestle him into a hug with one arm, making a little happy squeal into his hair low enough that only they can hear. Damian nudges you with your arm.

“Well that was scary,” Jon whispers into your shoulder. Damian smacks him upside the head. You laugh but cut yourself off when you see Damian stiffen. “RUN!”

You all scramble up and begin to dash away. You look back over your shoulder, machete winking at you, hockey mask visible in the dim light.

You stumble, feet getting tangled in roots. You yelp, bracing for impact and possibly dying. You feel arms scoop you up. You squeak. “No one gets left behind, soldier,” Jon says grinning.

“How are you still a goof when we’re about to die?” you laugh incredulously.

“He clearly gets it from his father.”

“ Pfffft, probably or maybe it's an alien thing.”

“Are you really gonna make fun of me, right now?” Jon protests, shouting over the rain.

“You two! This way!” Damian points to a small hole in the hillside.

“I’m too tall for that!” Damian glares.

You snort. “Just duck.” Jon scowls at you then sighed.

You all slide into a small crevice and hunched together.

“What’s the plan?”

“Jon, are your powers working?”

“Kind of?”

“Ok, that’s one thing we have going for us,” Damian hands you a phone. "You call while we distract him."

"Why do you have to distract him?"

"Ask him yourself, (l/n)."

Your eyes sweep up to the tall figure. Your mouth goes completely dry.

"Fuck."

Jason brings his machete down in a swift arc light. You grab Damian by the scruff of his shirt. The machete embeds itself into the wall, getting caught in the process. Your moment of relief doesn’t last long when Jason lunges for you. You scream as he catches your arm. With a soft click it detaches and you scramble away and out the hole into the pouring rain. He’s hot on your heels. You hear a loud thud. You look over your shoulder. Jon’s resting against the wall, head slumped. You see him throw Damian to the ground. You call 9-11 as you hurl your shoe at him. The dial tone is ringing. When you look up again, Jason is heading towards you. You stumble barefoot trying to get away. Predictably, you fall, foot catching on another tangle of roots.

“Hello? Hello? Is anyone out there?”

“Please help,” you whisper as Jason raises your arm to the sky. Your life flashes through like a film reel. Your breath is caught. Lightning flashes.

You watch the lightning cut through the heavens. The silver streak of light connecting might your arm and by extension Jason. The arm explodes. Shrapnel flies everywhere. Jason bursts into flames. The smell of burning flesh cutting through the air. You watch in open-mouthed horror as another bolt of lightning hits. He falls body fried to a crisp. You wretch the smell still strong.

"Kid! Kid! Are you ok?"

"No…" you gasp, bile lining the back of your throat, "please,hurry. We're at Camp Blood."

You’re cold and wet and forced to huddle into one blanket since the officer who responded only had one on hand. Damian is talking on the phone. It’s hard to make out amidst the pouring rain, so you settle in letting Jon rest his head on your shoulder as he drifts to sleep. The officer said the rest of the force is coming to collect the bodies. The camp is most likely gonna be shut down for the summer. You weren’t keen on spending the entire summer with your cousins.

“I’ve informed father that you’re staying with us for the rest of the summer.”

“Informed?” you laugh, relieved, ”good luck telling Jon that.”

You both eye him. Jon snores into your ear and you can’t help but smile. “He’ll be fine.”

Bonus

The map in Jon’s hands crinkles loudly as he shuffles through it trying to find the correct route. You know the route. You memorized it before you even set off. You did it instead of studying for finals. It was certainly more entertaining than studying for a US history final when you already knew it was just gonna be about the American Revolution, World War II, and probably the Vietnam war. You hold back the snicker threatening to spill from your lips when, with each crinkle of the Dollar Store map, Damian’s brow twitched. Yes, this was the purpose of the map. It was most certainly doing its job well.

“You think they’ll still have the same dumb camp activities?”

“You say this like you weren’t squealing to try all of them.”

“Was not!”

“Dunno, Jon, Dami has a pretty good memory.”

Your car rolls to a stop in front of a cross-section. You drum your fingers against the steering wheel before you let curiosity override your self-preservation.

“How did you convince Dami to come along?”

Jon tilts his head at you in question. “I didn’t,” he says slowly, “I thought you did.”

Your passenger goes deadly silent. You both twist your bodies to look at him. Jon gives him a knowing smile while you give him a reassuring one that says ‘it’s ok you can tell us’. Damian avoids all eye contact like the plague, glaring at the window like there’s a particularly interesting speck of dust on it.

His eyes narrow. And you have the odd urge to follow his gaze.

The trees shift.

The pressure in the car builds.

Jon’s laughter stalls.

A shape flickers in the distance.

Your ears pop.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: THANKS FOR READING! Yes, reader has a prosthetic limb because I was reading 3 birds. Also, this can be treated as pre-slash. Epilogue is up for interpretation. Probably. Also fun fact, Faust is the basis for merc reader. I could not resist putting her in.

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #jon kent imagine #jon kent x reader #damian wayne imagine #batboys x reader #batfamily x reader

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