#lectures 10-11 2-3 and 5-6

[la-galaxie-langblr]

Universities love to create timetables that suck 😔

[sodacowboy]

every now and then I remember that collecting hobbies IS a hobby and that it is indeed my hobby

[a-shade-of-blue]

New Vetted Gaza Fundraisers from Palestinians that reached out to me (9-12 February)

12 February

Ahmed Ramadan (@ghadaahmed): Ahmed has a 2-year-old daughter named Ghada. Their home has been destroyed and they are now living in a tent. (https://gofund.me/b9d6bdb8) (#429 on @/gazavetters vetted list) ($50 USD raised of $20K goal)

Essam Ahmed Salah (@esam12ameer, @esam12amer): Essam’s house has been bombed and the bombing also killed his wife and 2 of his children: Muhammad (8) and Nada (7). His youngest son Amir survived the bombing, but unfortunately Essam has lost his right arm and leg in the attack and cannot provide for his son. (https://gofund.me/cf1524f2, https://chuffed.org/project/122968-help-issam-afford-prosthetics-to-support-his-only-son) (shared by @/90-ghost (gfm))

Mahmoud Atta (@mahmoo4, @mahmood7): Mahmoud (29) is a teacher. His house and neighbourhood has been completely destroyed. (https://gofund.me/08d76093) (#365 on @/gazavetters vetted list)

Ashraf Safi (@ashrafsafy): Ashraf is an engineer and an academic lecturer and has 2 children. His home has been destroyed and he has lost many family members. (https://gofund.me/df2ca244) (#447 on @/gazavetters vetted list) (£2,671 raised of £50K goal, fundraising since May)

Ahmed Shaqlaen (@dr-ahmed-shaqlaen): Ahmed and his wife have 3 sons. He also has 4 brothers and 4 sisters. He used to work in Al Shifa Hospital as a radiographer and was among the last to evacuate the hospital. He has been volunteering in different hospitals since then including the Al Aqsa hospital. (https://gofund.me/5efa04e1) (#508 on @/gazavetters vetted list) ($961 USD raised of $40K goal, last donation was 26 days ago)

9 February

Aya Almajdoub (@aiamaher2): Aya and her husband have a 3-year-old son and they are struggling to provide for him. Aya’s family consists of 8 people. (https://gofund.me/e1198c79) (shared by @/bilal-salah0)

You can enter my freshwater pearl necklace raffle if you donate to any of the above fundraisers!

Click here for my Google Doc with my complete masterlist of all the Palestinian gfm asks I've received

Info on how gfm campaigns are vetted:  See here, here, here, here and here.

See post here for other verified ways to send aid to Gaza.

Mutual Aid Funds: The Sameer Project: North and Central Gaza aid/ Refaat Alareer Camp Aid/ South Gaza Aid

Daily Clicks on Arab.org. Every click made is registered in their system and generates donation from sponsors/advertisers.

See links below for my Masterlists of Vetted Fundraisers from the Palestinians who sent me asks for if you want to help more people! As well as resources for palestinian students if you are a palestinian student!

Masterlists of Vetted Fundraisers

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 13 - 25 July.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 26 -29 July.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 30 July - 1 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 2 - 5 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 6 - 10 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 11 - 14 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15 - 18 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundrasiers from 19 - 21 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundrasiers from 22 - 24 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 25 - 28 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 29 August - 1 September

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 2 - 5 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 6-10 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 11-14 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15-18 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 19-22 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 23-26 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 27-30 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 1-4 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 5-9 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 10-14 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15-21 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 22-26 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 27 October - 2 November.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 3-12 November.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 13-22 November.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 23-28 November.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 29 November - 5 December.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 6-11 December.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 12-17 December.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 18-26 December.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 27 December - 6 January

Click here for Masterlist for fundraisers from 7-12 January

Click here for Masterlist for fundraisers from 13-27 January

Resources for Palestinian Students!

Initiatives and resources to support Palestinian students, academics and universities:

This is a list of initiatives and resources for Gazan students seeking to complete their studies, including initiatives, resources, training and scholarships. See list here.

Scholarships for Displaced Palestinian students:

Putting this here for the palestinians who follow me: If you are a displaced Palestinian student looking to fund your education, this document lists the scholarships available around the world for displaced Palestinian students.

[ink-stainedkiss]

On Campus: The Prize of Affection

MDNI - Explicit Content Ahead

Pairing: Geto x Reader x Gojo + fwb!Sukuna x Reader

These two were practically the stereotype for coming of age movie jock’s. Complete disdain grew in your chest as you watched them stroll down the lecture hall stairs. They dapped up their friends loudly, tossing sultry smiles toward the audience, and-ew did someone just squeal? Whoever they were, their ego’s shined too bright for you’re liking. Consider yourself uninterested.

Synopsis: Two of the biggest names across the campus, sadly, have recognized you from one of your shared classes. Though you wanted to stay away from their radar, they seem to always be lingering near you. You had caught both of their attentions without even meaning to and it seems neither of them were going to let up their antics. Will you eventually fall for them? Or will their acts of affection ultimately be futile?

*Updated Regularly* A/N:

Contents: Mdni ⚠︎, SLOW BURN, fluff + angst + smut, alcohol, frat parties, attempts of spiking, harassment, some violence, jealousy, pining, flirting, MULTI ENDS, happy ending.

In later chapters: PiV, oral (m! & f! receiving), fingering, handjobs,dry humping

Lecture 1

Uninterested Luck Would Have It Doubtful Intentions

Lecture 2

Study Sesh? The Charmer Invintation (Pt.1)

Lecture 3

Invintaion (Pt.2) Just a Friend

Lecture 4

Your Professor Hasn’t Loaded the Assignment…

Lecture 5

Your Professor Hasn’t Loaded the Assignment…

Lecture 6

Your Professor Hasn’t Loaded the Assignment…

Lecture 7

Your Professor Hasn’t Loaded the Assignment…

Lecture 8

Your Professor Hasn’t Loaded the Assignment…

Lecture 9

Your Professor Hasn’t Loaded the Assignment…

Lecture 10

Your Professor Hasn’t Loaded the Assignment…

Lecture 11

Your Professor Hasn’t Loaded the Assignment…

Lecture 12

Your Professor Hasn’t Loaded the Assignment…

Comment/message me to be added to the On Campus:Taglist. I will respond with “🤎” once you are added

[danieyells]

@mayoigotokurousagi LAST ONE OF YOURS here's Jin!!!

Jin is. . .he's a lot sweeter than you'd expect once his affinity gets high lol. . . . I FEEL LIKE I ENDED UP WITH A LOT OF COMMENTARY HERE. . .he just acts very different as affinity goes up, i have to point shit out haha

I've also amended this one to be all of his voicelines now!

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Where the hell do you think you're going? Quit dawdling and help me get ready." お前、どこほっつき歩いてたんだ？……さっさと支度を手伝え

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Hey, you've got mail. Don't tell me you're not going to open it. What if it was for me?" おい、手紙。放っとくつもりじゃねぇだろうな。 俺宛があったらどうすんだ？ あ？

Jin, why would your mail be in my. . .whatever

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"...Get to the point. The trash here is so long-winded." チッ……さっさと要件を言え。ゴミどもはこれだから面倒くせぇ

"A party? I don't waste air on bootlickers. Try Tohma." 社交界？　肩書き目当ての奴らに構うつもりはねぇよ。塔真をあたれ

"Don't just stand there like an idiot. Hurry up. ...What? You got a problem? Spit it out." おい、ぼさっと突っ立ってねぇでついてこい。 ……何だ、文句でもあんのか？

"Kneel! Tsk... Where's {PC}? Bring her to my room." 跪け！ 　……チッ。あの女はどこだ。今すぐ俺の部屋に連れてこい

"What? Your schedule's not my problem. Just arrange it around me." あ？　お前の都合なんて知らねぇ。黙って俺に合わせてりゃいいんだよ

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Huh? I don't want to see your face at the crack of dawn. Get out." ……あ？寝起きから、その面見せんな…… 下がってろ

given how vulgar his speech is sometimes i'm surprised he didn't say "asscrack of dawn"

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Tell the chef I'm not in the mood for meat today." ……シェフに伝えろ。今日は肉の気分じゃねぇってな

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm not wasting my time fooling around with those brats today. If they're really that bored, just make them go on a low-ranking mission or something." ガキの遊びに付き合う気はねぇよ。そんなに暇なら、適当に低ランク任務でも行かせておけ

he's just barely avoiding making iPad kids out of Kaito and Lucas lmao

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Put my dinner over there. I'll eat later if I feel like it." ディナーはそこに置いておけ。気が向いたら食っておく

i am once again asking the ghouls to FUCKING EAT PROPER MEALS.

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I need more data for this case...  Go find Tohma, servant." 任務の資料が足りてねぇ…… 下僕、塔真を呼んでこい

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"A Class C anomaly? Miss me with that weak shit. Why do you think we have a Vice Captain?" あ？　Ｃ級怪異？ つまんねぇことに俺を巻き込むな。 何のために副寮長がいるんだ？

MISS ME WITH THAT WEAK SHIT I AM IN TEARS WHO TAUGHT YOU TO TALK LIKE THAT. . . .

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"What about class? Ha. What makes you think you can lecture me? Worry about yourself." ……授業の時間？　ハッ、俺に説教とはいい度胸じゃねぇか。お前は自分の心配でもしてろ

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You don't even know that? What do they teach here?" ……そんなこともわからねぇのか？この学園の教育はどうなってんだ

I guess Jin has a good handle on the material and everything he'd need to know, as a third year. I say 'as a third year' but Alan didn't understand some of the basics so--

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Bianerus! ...I'm not feeling it today. You can go." ＜ビアネルス＞ …………チッ。調子が悪い。今日はもう下がれ

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's late. We're done here. Leave." ……もう遅い。話は終わりだ、下がれ

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"You're late. You've got some nerve making me wait, servant." ……遅ぇよ。下僕ごときが俺を待たせるな

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...I'm hungry. Go order lunch. For two." ……腹が減ったな。おい、ランチの手配をしろ。２人分だ

i guarantee you the pc did not consider that he meant "i want to eat lunch with you" the first time this happened. she probably just thought "damn jin's hungry today."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You have plans? Take a second and really think about whether your plans are more important than me before you open that mouth again." 今日は都合が悪い？ ……俺より優先する価値があるか、よく考えてから口を開け

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Why are you so chatty today? Just pour my tea and get out of my face." チッ……うるせぇ。いつもの紅茶だけ淹れて失せろ

'stop trying to befriend me and go away' lmao

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"You should be grateful I'm giving you the time of day this early in the morning." 俺が朝から相手してやってんだ。ありがたく思え

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Why do you look so worn out? If you're going to serve me, learn how to take better care of yourself. Tohma, take her to the infirmary." おい下僕、なんだその顔色は。俺に仕えるなら体調管理は万全にしろ。 塔真、こいつを保健室に運んでこい

why the infirmary. . .i don't think she needs a doctor i think she needs a nap. You're overworking her didn't Tohma tell you not to break her you donut

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's still early... You want to practice the waltz? Bold, aren't you? You're going to be sore tomorrow." まだこんな時間か。 ワルツの練習？……生意気に催促しやがって。 覚悟しろよ。お前は明日、筋肉痛だ

are we still. . .talking about the. . .dancing. . . .

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"You want to dine with me? Ha. All right. Show me if you've learned anything." お前と俺が、ディナーを一緒に？ ハッ、面白ぇ。お手並み拝見といこうか

impromptu lesson on table manners!?

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's quiet tonight... Sit here, next to me. We're playing a duet. Don't give me that look. You'll know this song." 今夜は静かだな……隣に座れ。 連弾だ。そんな顔すんじゃねぇよ。 ……お前も知ってる曲だ

I previously used the expression names to describe his expression as 'pouting' and 'like a spoiled child' but he mostly just looks irritated lmaooo

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Waking me up every morning was your idea, so I'd better see you here tomorrow too. That's an order." ルーティンにしたのはお前だろ。責任取って、明日も起こしに来い。 ……これは命令だ

how quickly we go from "i don't wanna see your face first thing in the morning" to "i had better see your face every morning". . . . (it's not quickly at all. it's actually an incredibly slow process getting affinity up.)

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...I was too active yesterday. Massage me, servant. ...What the hell was that? Put some muscle into it." チッ。昨日は体を動かしすぎたな。 下僕、次はマッサージだ。 ……足りねぇよ。もっと強く押せ

i love this one he's just like bitch what the fuck kinda weak ass massage is that put some back into it?????

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You don't know about dining etiquette? I don't have time for this... If you want me to teach you, I better see that nose on the grindstone." テーブルマナーがわからない？ 面倒くせぇ……俺に教わるからにはそれ相応の覚悟があんだろうな？

we are reaching critical levels of "i need to make you presentable so you can meet my father" also I find it funny that this is after the "you wanna eat with me? let's see if you've learned anything" line. WHEN WERE THEY SUPPOSED TO HAVE HAD LEARNED OR DO YOU EXPECT THEM TO STUDY YOU AS YOU EAT

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What's that? My helicopter, obviously. Quit gawking and get in." 俺のヘリだ。見たらわかんだろ。……いいから、さっさと乗れ

get in servant idk where we're going but you are going with me

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I've got plans early tomorrow. Your house is too far. Stay here tonight." 明日は早朝から用事がある。お前が寝泊まりしてる寮からじゃ間に合わねぇかもな。 今夜は、ここに泊まれ

another expression note. . .he's looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck here. He's shy, almost. Because he's not asking you to stay over to perform some task. It's not your usual master-servant dynamic. He just wants you close to him. As close as possible. He really is rather sweet.

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Never learn, do you? I don't take you being here for granted. I know it won't last forever. That's all I'm going to say." 懲りないやつだな。言っておくが、こうやってお前が隣にいること…… 俺は、永遠に続くとは思ってねぇぞ

Jin makes a kind of sad face when he says it won't last forever. well, as sad as he can manage.

He knows that once your curse is broken you'll probably go back to your ordinary life. If your curse can't be broken you'll die. And if you, for some reason, continue to stay at Darkwick even after being cured, he'll be a fourth year next year--he's gonna go off to do field work. Eventually he'll work in the highest levels of the Institute and eventually he'll take his father's place as the president. With all of this, there's no way you'll be able to be together, no matter what. This is a short lived burst of happiness and attachment for him. It means a lot more to him than you realize.

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"(yawn) What's with that look? I'm not allowed to yawn?" ふぁっ…… あ？　何だその顔は。俺があくびして悪ぃか？

(between 11am and 4pm)

"The flowers you can see from the balcony? Yeah, I had them planted. ...My mother liked them." バルコニーから見える花……？ああ、俺が植えさせた。 …………お袋��好きだった花だ

the balcony bg and the front of frostheim background don't have flowers visible in them(i mean the balcony has potted plants but no flowers). . .i wonder what kind of flowers his mother liked. maybe the pc will grow them when they turn into a Kyklos.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Sunset's supposed to be nice this time of year. Come on, servant. Before I change my mind." 春茜か……おい下僕、少し外に出る。 俺の気が変わる前に付き合えよ

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You're going to see the cherry blossoms tonight with the brats? Suit yourself. I doubt any of you can appreciate them." あ？　ガキどもと夜桜を見に行く？ 勝手にしろ。お前らに、あの風情がわかるとは思えねぇけどな

'you guys are too poor to appreciate nice things'

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Those little shits are so loud this morning... They're worse than the cicadas. Tohma, go exterminate them." クソ、朝からガキどもがうるせぇ。 塔真、あのセミより鬱陶しい奴らを駆除してこい

MODS, PUT 'EM IN THE BLENDER.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"What kind of moron chooses to go out in the sun this time of year? Unless you want your brain to melt, stay here with me." わざわざこの時期、日を浴びようなんて奴は馬鹿しかいねぇ。 お前も脳みそ溶かしたくなきゃ、ここにいろ

jin. . .this is frostheim. it is PERMANENTLY WINTER here, even to the point of that the day-night timing doesn't change. It's not hot unless we leave the boundaries of frostheim. . . . THIS IS A THINLY VEILED EXCUSE TO GET YOU TO STAY WITH HIM.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"You've got tickets to a fireworks festival? The view's better from a helicopter. ...You've got guts thinking you can show me a good time, peasant." あ？　花火大会の観覧席チケット？ 花火はヘリから見るもんだろ。庶民の分際で俺を誘いやがって……

'peasant' is worse than 'servant' in my opinion. . . .

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Haven't heard the sound of waves for a while... Get the speedboat. I'll drive." しばらく波の音も聞いてねぇな…… おい、今すぐクルーザーを出せ。操縦は俺がする

jin just shoving you into various vehicles to take you places is really funny to me for some reason. you're like his purse dog. he just wants to take you everywhere even if it doesn't really benefit him to do so. also he can drive a speedboat????

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"I overworked myself. Go get Tohma. I was right having him get that PT license. I should have you get one too." 塔真を呼べ、オーバーワークした。 あいつに整体の資格を取らせたのは正解だったな。 下僕、お前も取るか

. . .doesn't that take like three years minimum in japan. . .how did you get him to get that. . .didn't he only meet you like two and a half years ago and you weren't even in the same house then. . .is that a darkwick offered course. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"A pumpkin spice latte? I'm not drinking this saccharine garbage. Give the rest to the brats." あ？　パンプキンスパイスラテ？ こんな甘ったるい茶は飲まねぇよ。残りはガキどもにやっとけ

what do you think he is, a basic bitch like you? Not a big fan of sweets. Noted.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"My favorite family vacation? Don't have one. This conversation is over." 行楽の思い出？そんなもんねぇよ。 ……この話は終わりだ

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I don't play the piano because I like it. It's just force of habit." 別に、ピアノが好きで弾いてるわけじゃねぇよ。ただの惰性だ

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"...Don't fucking wake me up. Come back later." ……起こすんじゃねぇ。話なら後にしろ

he hates the heat he hates the cold. . .well he also hates mornings in general. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Why is my name on this snowman? Tohma, give me your gloves. Whichever half-wit made this has shit for eyes." なんで雪だるまに、俺の名前が？ ……塔真、手袋を貸せ。これ作った奴の目は、確実に腐ってやがんな

"is that supposed to be me. . .? aw hell no i am fixing this shit"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Tell the chef and the brats we're having a roast dinner tomorrow. Kobe beef. They know how I like it." 明日はローストディナーだ、シェフとガキどもに言っとけ。 肉は神戸牛でな。焼き加減はわかってるはずだ

i like that the frostheim ghouls eat dinner together like a family. . .jin looks at Kaito and Lucas and goes 'those are my idiot sons. i cannot stand them.'

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You're staying here tonight, servant. I'll show you an aurora you couldn't even dream of." 下僕、今夜は泊まれ。最上級のオーロラを見せてやる

see how this is worded differently from when he asks you to stay over because 'your house is too far away'? even when he's trying to be sweet to you, as long as he maintains your power imbalance he feels comfortable--he has something over you here--but trying to lay his feelings bare, just saying 'i want you to stay with me', that's so much more than he's used to saying.

His birthday: (August 31st)

"A birthday party? This has Tohma written all over it, that asshole's always using me to— You're planning it? ...I'll think about it." 誕生日パーティー？　塔真の奴、ま��俺を客寄せに使って…… 違う？お前が主催？ ……気が向いたらな

'that asshole tohma is trying to make me go outside aga--oh you're planning the party. oh. okay. maybe.'

Your birthday:

"The song I just played? It's G. F. Handel. He wrote it for the queen's birthday." さっき弾いた曲？……Ｇ．Ｆ．ヘンデルが、女王の誕生日に送った曲だ

in case you don't get the significance of what he's saying here. . .lemme fetch one of Tohma's lines for you--

"I'm no more than a servant. Frostheim is ruled by a king, you see." 私はあくまで小間使いですよ。フロストハイムには、キングがいますから

my dude I think jin just called you his queen--only for your birthday though don't get cocky, servant

New Years: (January 1st)

"Hope you're ready for another year being at beck and call, servant. First up, my New Year's courtesy calls. Go do them for me." おい、下僕。今年も俺専用の女中として必死に尽くせよ。 まずは新年の挨拶回りだ。代わりに行ってこい

'happy new year! your purpose is still serving me.'

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"What's that sad-looking box you're holding? ...Oh. No, don't throw it away. I'll take it." なんだ？　この貧相な包みは。 ……ああ、そういうことか。 捨てなくていい。受け取ってやるよ

jin is one of those characters who probably gets a mountain of chocolates given to him by admirers, all brand name and like from famous confectioners and shit. real nice fancy packages. so he sees your shitty little unprofessional homemade thing and is like 'tf is that' before he realizes it's for him and it's made with love and he just. . .ah. no, i want that, actually.

White Day: (March 14th)

"Keep your schedule open tonight. You're having a meal your peasant taste buds couldn't even dream of." おい、今夜は予定を開けとけ。庶民じゃ一生出会えねぇような美味いもん、お前に食わせてやるよ

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Hey, are you all right? ...Tsk. If that was a joke, it wasn't fucking funny. I've changed my mind. Cancel all my plans for the day." おい、お前大丈夫か？ 　……チッ。質の悪ぃ嘘だな…… 気が変わった。今日の予定はすべてキャンセルだ

i feel like Jin is about to put together the most elaborate prank and it's gonna hurt someone's feelings or get somebody hurt and no one will find it funny and he'll end up feeling super shitty. like that one spongebob episode.

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Where the hell's Tohma? Asshole sent the brats to my room to beg for candy. Next time I see him I'm going to wring his fucking neck." クソ……塔真はどこだ。俺の部屋に籠持ったガキども寄こしやがって。 あいつ……ぶっ殺すぞ……

okay but did you give them candy?

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Go tell Tohma what color dress you're wearing tonight. Why? Maybe I'll wear a matching ascot tie. If I feel like it." 今夜着るドレスの色を塔真に伝えておけ。 あ？　理由？ 気が向いたらアスコットタイの色を合わせてやる

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...Where the hell did she go?" ……あの女、どこ行きやがった？

(13 affinity and above)

"Shit... This is throwing me off. Who does that servant think she is?" ……クソ……調子が狂う。 下僕の分際で、舐めやがって……

he feels so wrong without you next to him aw

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"...You've got guts abandoning your place at my back, servant. I'm going to have to retrain you." …………っ、おい……下僕は常に主人の後ろにいるもんだろうが。 お前は再教育だ

ONCE AGAIN IT FEELS LIKE I PUT NEARLY ALL OF THEM IN IT'S ALL OF THEM NOW! The way he treats the pc in so many different ways but it makes sense with his character and feelings. . .as far as the home screen lines go, Jin definitely loves you in some capacity. He's actually quite clingy. . .i'm a little too sleepy for more coherent thought haha

[angelilacs]

january prompts ˎˊ˗

1 ⭑ doing each other’s hair

2 ⭑ date night gone wrong

3 ⭑ strip club

4 ⭑ misheard runaways

5 ⭑ running into each other outside a coffee shop

6 ⭑ having trouble communicating

7 ⭑ strawberry kisses

8 ⭑ smooth whiskey

9 ⭑ photograph session

10 ⭑ acing a class

11 ⭑ star constellations

12 ⭑ childhood friends turned enemies

13 ⭑ hiding from your partner

14 ⭑ lights turned off

15 ⭑ maroon sweater

16 ⭑ vinyl record

17 ⭑ rainy day at the beach

18 ⭑ first time

19 ⭑ soaked clothes

20 ⭑ secret liquor store next to a college campus

21 ⭑ new year’s resolution

22 ⭑ counting their freckles

23 ⭑ lemon and garlic salmon

24 ⭑ missing all the signs

25 ⭑ a miniskirt and red sport bra

26 ⭑ late trains

27 ⭑ romantic novels

28 ⭑ ponytail with a white bow on top

29 ⭑ a real girl’s girl

30 ⭑ entering the wrong lecture room

31 ⭑ best friend’s fridge

[hivemuthur]

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 2.

viktorxfemale!reader mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 4K

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: Reader is hit by a truck which is *university*. So, a lot of studying and a lot of frustrations. And the TA is being a pain in the ass, you know how it is. Some science talk, based on the remnants of my knowledge from uni.

author’s note: Guys, you have showered me with love, so I'm showering you with writing.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

Sue was so fucking right. It had only been one week of freedom, and then the workload came crashing down on you. Suddenly, every class had a welcome test attached to it, and you found yourself buried under a mountain of homework—chemical equations to solve and analyse, essays, books to read, lab practice, and lectures to attend. There wasn’t any snowball effect; it all hit at once, and by the time you and Sue returned on the first Monday of the second week, you were carrying enough work to fill two mules, and it would still have been too heavy even for them.

“Your mum is calling,” Sue’s voice pulled you out of a particularly boring passage about physical chemistry in one of your shared workbooks. You would usually put your phones on the cabinet for study time, but the vibration had startled Sue for the third time in ten minutes, so she decided to address it.

“Ugh, can you put her on speaker? I’ll deal with this quickly, and I don’t want to move,” you rolled your eyes, catching Sue’s judgmental glare. She’s your mum!

“Kochanie, finally! I’ve been trying and trying, how are you doing?” Your mum’s voice filled the room with her familiar heavy accent, though she insisted it was improving. Your dad didn’t speak a word of Polish, so Joanna had to switch to English entirely after you left.

“All good, Mum. Lots and lots and lots of studying,” you said, your voice so unamused you barely lifted your eyes from the book, though your gaze was unseeing. You had been staring at the same equation for about half an hour now.

“Have you been practising your affirmations?” Of course, you hadn’t. Silly idea.

“Yes, every day and every time someone pisses me off. How’s Dad?” You decided to deflect as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

“Dad went to Calais for a retreat, and I’m left alone for the entire week. He’s not allowed a mobile, you see,” Your mum rambled on a little longer, and you let her. You were happy to hear your parents were moving on after losing their only daughter. Even though Joanna insisted she could feel your presence in the house, in the clothes and trinkets you’d left behind, and could sense your moods through an invisible mother-daughter bond you shared. What a load of nonsense.

“Mamusia, I love you, but I have to go. I’m studying with Sue, and we’ve got a test in thirty minutes,” you added a round of loud pecks so she could hear the kisses through the phone speaker. She told you to wear red underwear and get Sue to kick you for good luck.

“Your mum sounds awesome,” Sue laughed under her breath. She tried to study but ended up listening to the entire conversation.

“Eh, she’s something. She’s pretty cool when she’s not suffocating you with love, you know?” You gave Sue a knowing smile, and she understood immediately. “Have you managed to learn anything? My brain is literally fuming.”

Sue groaned as she started packing up her notebooks to head toward the lab class. “Honestly, I don’t know. I think I’ll use my last resort—can I borrow some red knickers?” You snickered as Sue shot you a huge mocking grin.

“No, but I can kick you alright, sweet Sue,” you couldn’t help but laugh. You gathered all the papers scattered around you with both hands and shoved them into your bag. You glanced at yourself in the mirror before leaving your dorm room, and Jesus Christ, your youth had already fled. Dark circles under your eyes, a gaunt face, lips chapped—all of it painfully underlined by an ink stain on your t-shirt. Whatever, there was no time to do anything about it.

It was Viktor’s class again. You had slowly grown to dislike them, ever since he and Jayce began to switch every second day, after Jayce got a new girlfriend—beautiful Mel Medarda, a third-year theatre student whom Hale once called a close second contender to rule the planet one day. Second after you, of course.

All of Viktor’s initial friendly sass had dissolved into the mean kind, which he executed each time Heimerdinger’s students were supposed to already know something they didn’t—including you. Thankfully, most of the time, you knew. The times you didn’t, he relished it and squeezed the situation to the maximum, like a sad lemon.

“Alright, take a test from the tray on the teacher’s desk and take your usual seat. And as usual, you can have a calculator and periodic table on your workbench,” Viktor’s instructions boomed through the lab classroom as one by one, students dragged themselves through the door, each one looking more exhausted than the other. “Looking ravishing today, Y/N,” he sent a smirk your way as you passed by him without sparing him so much as a glance and a quiet ‘hi.’

“Bite me, Viktor,” you barked back at him. What the hell was he thinking?

“Gladly, but maybe after class.” Usually, the smug look on his face would get you to scoff; this time, you granted him a faint eye roll as you dragged your feet toward the workbench you shared with Sue. As Viktor strolled through the room, making sure no one had anything illegal on their tables, he snatched your phone from your desk just as you were putting it into your bag.

“No phones,” he slid it into his lab coat pocket with a wink. You whined, about to say something you’d regret, but were immediately cut off by “I said, after class,” coming from behind you as you watched his back, your eyes burning a hole in it.

You solved the test first; you were so angry. As soon as you put it back in the tray, a realisation washed over you, and what you realised was the mistake you’d made in one of the exercises. You wanted to retrieve it and fix it, but Viktor’s hand shooshed you away.

“Come on, Viktor, it was there for less than a second!”

“You put it away, it’s gone for grading. That’s the rule. Also—it’s a learning curve,” he smiled at you sweetly, and you wanted to choke him out.

“Learning curve of what? That you are being a dick?” The last part was barely a whisper, nevertheless, a whisper that was fuming with rage and could cut through steel.

“Patience. And decision-making, which is a process that you clearly haven’t mastered yet,” he said coldly, not even looking you in the eye. This time, you did scoff, and angry steps carried you back to your seat.

The class settled into a more familiar rhythm after the test, the shuffle of papers and the steady hum of Bunsen burners filling the air. Viktor moved around the room, overseeing his students’ chemistry lab exercises with the same detached air he always wore. You tried to focus, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the test—and Viktor's smug little smile as he watched your frustration unfold.

The task at hand was simple enough: a titration experiment to determine the concentration of an unknown solution. Viktor had given you all the instructions, but as you watched the beaker of sodium hydroxide mix with the diluted acid, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Something about the instructions didn’t sit right with you.

You glanced over at Sue, who was carefully measuring out the chemicals. You leaned in, whispering so Viktor wouldn’t overhear.

“Sue, I think he messed up the ratios in the instructions. If we follow this, it’s gonna screw everything up. We’ll end up with a totally different result.”

Sue frowned, taking a closer look at the setup. “You sure?”

“I’m certain. The way he wrote it—if we add that much of the sodium hydroxide, the pH is going to overshoot too quickly. It'll neutralise the acid too fast, and we won’t get an accurate reading. If we’re supposed to get a neutralisation point, that change will mess with the whole titration curve.”

Sue was sceptical, but you were adamant. You felt it in your gut. "It’ll be off. Trust me."

Sue nodded reluctantly. "So, what do we do?"

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers tapping the edge of the desk as you thought. You pulled up a few formulas on Sue’s phone, glancing back at Viktor to make sure he wasn’t looking in your direction.

“If we use less sodium hydroxide, the neutralisation will occur more slowly, and we’ll get a more accurate pH reading. We’re supposed to use a much more diluted solution.”

Sue nodded, though she looked uneasy. “What the hell, let’s try it.”

You adjusted the solution as you suggested, making the necessary changes to the procedure. You proceeded with the experiment, and despite her hesitation, Sue followed your lead. The two of you worked in tandem, the smooth, natural chemistry of your lab partnership taking over. As you neared the end of the titration, it was clear you had achieved the neutralisation point correctly—without overshooting or leaving any room for error.

Meanwhile, the rest of the class was still fumbling through their measurements, the air thick with the sounds of Viktor’s quiet reprimands. You couldn’t help but glance at him every now and then, noting the small, almost imperceptible frown on his face as he inspected his students’ work.

When the clock pointed to fifteen minutes away from the class ending, Heimerdinger stepped into the lab, his eyes scanning the results with interest. He walked toward your workbench, eyes lighting up as he reviewed your calculations.

“Well, it seems we have at least one pair who didn’t follow the instructions blindly,” Heimerdinger said, his voice rich with approval. “Good work, you two. You’ve done the experiment correctly. Trusting your instincts—making adjustments based on the data rather than simply following authority—is key in science. After all, we’re here to discover, not just to repeat what’s been done.”

You allowed yourself a smile of satisfaction, while Sue breathed a little easier, glancing at you in admiration.

Viktor’s face, however, was unreadable. He stood at the back of the room, arms folded tightly across his chest, watching the interaction with narrowed eyes.

Heimerdinger didn’t seem to mind. “It’s a learning curve for all of us, even your teacher. Mistakes are inevitable. But sometimes when we challenge authority—question the procedures—that’s when we learn and grow. Science is born from curiosity and defiance. Respect is important, of course, but don’t be afraid to challenge when you feel something isn’t right.”

You raised an eyebrow at Viktor, who hadn’t said a word. His lips were pressed into a thin line, but his eyes were hard as steel. He wasn’t pleased by Heimerdinger’s praise of your independent thinking.

“That’s how science is made,” Heimerdinger continued, completely oblivious to the tension between his students and the teacher. “By asking ‘what if?’ and exploring the unknown.”

Viktor finally spoke, his voice cool and controlled. “That’s true,” he said, glancing at you. “But there's a fine line between innovation and recklessness. Don’t mistake one for the other.”

You met his gaze, your jaw tight. “I don’t think we did.”

Viktor’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn’t respond, turning on his heel and walking toward the front of the room. Sue nudged you gently, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Well, at least we didn’t screw up,” she whispered.

You smiled back, but your mind was still racing. You had challenged Viktor’s authority—hadn’t followed his instructions—and it had got you praise from the professor. This couldn’t be good. “Sue, I don’t think I’m getting my phone back,” you whined into your friend's shoulder, who giggled uncontrollably.

You waited for your group to disperse into the library or the cantina before the start of the next lecture, making sure Viktor wouldn’t be able to humiliate you in front of anyone. You took a deep breath and knocked weakly on the door of the assistant’s back office.

“Come in,” Viktor’s voice was as flat and unwelcoming as ever. You braced yourself as you turned the doorknob and stepped inside quietly. Viktor was sitting at one of the tiny desks you were cramped at with Jayce and didn’t even look up. You cleared your throat.

“Yes?” This time, he looked up. God, he looked angry. When he finally raised his eyes to meet yours, he only sighed. “I doubt I can do much for you, Y/N. Given that you know everything already.”

“That’s rich coming from a guy who broke into the lab to prove his point once. Yes, Jayce told me,” you smiled at him sweetly, referring to his second-year incident when he and Jayce breached the lab security at night and conducted an experiment they were forbidden to do by Heimerdinger himself. This got them secure spots for PhD and TA positions.

Seeing that there was absolutely nothing coming from his direction but a blank stare, you asked carefully, “Well… why did you fuck up?”

Viktor sighed again, stood up slowly, and walked toward you. “Some theatre girls got us drunk last night—Mel’s friends. And I messed up the notes. Chemistry is not my major, as you know.” A smirk started to paint his face as he observed your reaction to the mention of drinking with some girls.

Viktor decided to push you further, his smirk widening as he leaned against the desk. “It’s hard to focus when you’re surrounded by Mel’s friends, you know. A lot of distractions. I haven't quite shaken last night off me yet,” he teased, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Your heart dropped at his words. You forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, but something inside you shifted—you didn’t want to admit it, but it hurt. Viktor was deliberately drawing attention to some girls, and it stung more than you cared to acknowledge.

You scolded yourself internally. Stop it. Don’t let him get to you. But it was already too late. You could feel a pang of something—jealousy, maybe, or insecurity—but you refused to let it show.

Viktor, sensing your discomfort, didn’t let up. “By the way,” he said, his tone casual, “I took a closer look at your test. You know, given your answers, I understand how you worked out the correct proportions for the exercise. Same mistake you made on the test itself, right?”

Your stomach twisted, and your chest tightened. “So now you’re just going to relish in my defeat, aren’t you?” you shot back, your voice strained.

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got far better things to relish in. Just making observations.”

You exhaled sharply, your anger bubbling over. “You know, because you were being such a dick, the thing I actually knew will probably lower my final grade now. Congratulations.”

Viktor’s smirk never faltered. “I wasn’t being a dick,” he said, voice smooth. “I was merely being a meticulous stiff bastard.” He leaned back, his tone laced with sarcasm. “You were quite vocal about that, if I recall. Something about me being a ‘pedantic pain in the ass’ when you were drunk.”

Your face flushed, your hand tightening into a fist at your side. That comment struck a nerve you hadn’t even realised was there. Your heart pounded. “Are you seriously so petty, Viktor, that you’re going to take revenge for some drunken slur by messing with my grade?” you snapped, your voice rising. You turned to leave, the weight of your frustration heavy on your chest.

But Viktor’s voice stopped you cold. “Wait,” he said, and for a moment, you thought he was going to apologise. Maybe even admit he’d gone too far.

You glanced over your shoulder, ready to hear some kind of redemption. But then Viktor’s tone shifted again. “You didn’t forget something, did you?”

You froze as he pulled your phone from his pocket and held it out to you, a mischievous gleam in his eye. The sight of your phone in his hand made your heart sink. You really are a bastard, you thought.

With strained composure, you took the phone from him. Your fingers brushed his, sending an unexpected jolt through you. Viktor’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer than necessary, and for the briefest second, you saw something flicker behind his usual cool façade. Something almost… uncertain.

Your stomach fluttered—No. Not now. Don’t let him do this to you.

You forced a tight smile, returning his gaze. “I can play this game too, Viktor,” you said, your voice low and controlled.

Viktor’s smirk faltered for a brief moment, and he leaned back against the desk, watching you with a hint of something deeper in his expression. His eyes softened, but he quickly masked it with another calculated look.

You turned to leave, your mind racing with frustration and another weird emotion you didn’t have the name for. Just before you reached the door, you felt a shift in the air. Viktor’s teasing had crossed a line, and somehow, the distance between you felt less like a joke and more like something real. Why does this matter so much to me?

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest. Viktor hadn’t just teased you. He’d affected you, and you hated that. As you stepped out of the office, you could feel his gaze on your back, following you, studying your body. You scolded yourself internally for looking like a wreck and made your way to join Sue in the library.

Your friend regarded you with concern as you slid into the chair at the table, books already splayed out in front of her. “Did you get your phone back?”

“Yeah, it was a fight to the death,” you mumbled, sighing heavily as you opened a massive tome of genetics for the next lecture.

“And who died?” Sue asked, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, definitely me this time.” You whined and dropped your head face-flat onto the table. “I don’t understand when this happened. Can you direct me to a point in time when Viktor woke up and chose violence?” you chuckled despite yourself.

“Um… I think it was some time after the party where that cute curly-haired guy with a poetic name clung to you the entire evening. Or—” she smirked—“you calling Viktor a meticulous stiff bastard.”

“Ambrose? I completely forgot about him,” you mused for a second. There had been an Ambrose sometime during your first weeks. He was from the theatre department too, full of big words, slightly obsessive, but overall nice. You never gave him your number, though, deciding it wasn’t meant to be.

“So you think Viktor loves me so much, jealousy rotted his guts?” you laughed a little too loudly, drawing a few irritated ‘shh!’ sounds from nearby students.

“Let’s say it’s my instinct,” Sue replied with a mischievous smile. “And remember, Y/N—trusting your instincts is key in science,” she added in a hushed, exaggerated Heimerdinger impression, causing you to suppress your laugh even further.

***

Viktor stretched in his chair. The last paper to check stared him in the eye, glaring at him almost as intensely as you had that morning. He groaned slightly at the pain in his leg as the door creaked open.

“Hi, partner,” Jayce greeted, shooting him a smile that was a mix of guilt and a plea for forgiveness. He’d left Viktor for an entire day to gallivant around campus with Mel. She had apparently needed strong arms to carry boxes of flyers advertising their winter show.

“Don’t ‘hi, partner’ me, Jayce,” Viktor huffed but smiled faintly under his nose. “How was it?”

“She’s really something, Vik. I can tell you over a beer?” Jayce offered, clearly still buzzing from his all-day hangout with his beautiful, smart, interesting, unique, elegant, new girlfriend.

“I think I’m going to call it a night. One last paper to check.” Viktor groaned slightly as he flipped your paper in front of his friend’s face. Jayce snatched it mid-air and studied it carefully for a minute.

“How come? I thought she was the only one to work around your… notes mishap?” Jayce tread carefully, noticing the frown forming on Viktor’s forehead. He knew exactly how Viktor had messed up the notes—sadly, it was partially his fault as well.

Viktor leaned back in his chair, still staring at the paper. “Yes, indeed, she was. She even tried to fix her answer when she put the test into the box,” he muttered quietly under his breath.

Jayce raised an eyebrow. “So why didn’t she?”

Viktor rolled his eyes, the motion quick and dismissive. “Because, Jayce, I don’t make exceptions for students who can't follow the rules.”

“Oh, Viktor,” Jayce sighed, shaking his head. “What did she do to get so deeply under your skin? Seriously, you're not usually like this.” Viktor was only mean and vigilant when he cared—or when he was hurt. That, Jayce knew. He just didn’t know which one it was.

Viktor shrugged nonchalantly, but there was an edge to his voice. “She’s just full of herself. Thinks she can do whatever she wants because she’s got it all figured out.”

Jayce’s lips twitched into a knowing smile. “Oh, I see. Well, if someone’s getting on your nerves that much, it usually means they’re reflecting something about you that you don’t want to see.”

Viktor stared at him blankly, the words almost not registering. Then, he let out a short, mocking laugh. “When did you start spreading the wisdom of your people around the world, Jayce?”

Jayce leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms casually. “Mel teaches me how to talk to difficult people now. You know, learning to understand them and not just shut them down immediately.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, his tone sceptical. “Am I the difficult one here?”

Jayce’s grin widened. “Clearly. I mean, you’re willing to fuck up Y/N’s final grade over a sentiment. That’s not exactly… rational behaviour, is it?” He leaned into the desk, hoping for a moment of self-reflection from his friend.

Viktor was silent for a moment, then scoffed, trying to brush off the conversation. “It’s not like that. I’m not just doing it to be petty.”

Jayce leaned in slightly. “So, what did you tell Heimerdinger about the mishap?”

Viktor leaned forward as well, his voice dropping into a more serious tone. “I told him the truth—both of us fell asleep in the lab, working on our side project. I had to rush to class that morning. No big deal.”

Jayce nodded, processing this. “I’m sure Heimerdinger won’t bat an eyelid if you step up for Y/N, especially since she did well in class. If anything, she deserves some leniency.”

Viktor paused, looking at his friend thoughtfully. “I guess I could do that. Just… don’t think this is something I do for everyone,” he exhaled, rubbing his temple. “But I’ll talk to Heimerdinger.”

Jayce smirked, leaning back in his chair again. “There you go. Maybe Mel’s influence is working on you after all.”

Viktor shot him a look, clearly not amused. But deep down, he couldn't deny there was something about you that unsettled him—and, for some reason, it had started to bother him more than he cared to admit.

“Just keep your wisdom to yourself,” Viktor muttered. “And get out of my office. I still have work to do.”

Jayce chuckled but stood up, winking. “Hey, it’s my office as well! But yeah, I get the point.” As Jayce exited, Viktor stared at the paper before him, his mind occupied by frustration. A meticulous stiff bastard he was indeed.

[kevinsdsy]

COMPASS: KEVAARON SOCMED AU

🎧🎶: you know i never know which way to go i think i need you with me for all time when i need new direction for my mind you listen to my lectures on the phone you help me find the treasure in the hole you tell me if i’m acting like a fool

silly gift for 💌 @kevindavidday since she mentioned she was surprised i didn’t include kevaaron in the socmed au and SHE’S SO RIGHT I IMMEDIATELY HAD TO START MOVING so here y’all go a bit of a crack socmed au with no storyline but maybe a bit of a plot do not expect great things from me this will probably be silly and ooc

kevin’s inner circle & kevin’s special guests

aaron’s inner circle & aaron’s special guesus

ACT ONE: pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8

ACT TWO: pt. 9 | pt. 10 (+ part 10: written edition) | pt. 11 | pt. 12

also special shout out to @minyard-05 because without him i would’ve not included sebastian but y’all should read golden since that’s canon aaron minyard backstory to me and that’s where the aaron&sebastian besties come from <3333

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, Mentions of drugs, mentions of court

Sunday came and went in a blur of textbooks, highlighters, and coffee that had turned cold by the time I got round to drinking it. I spent the entire day curled up in my apartment, buried in law casebooks and lecture notes, trying to chip away at the mountain of assignments that had built up over the week. Law school had a way of piling things on without warning, and it was tough to stay on top of everything.

But, despite all the reading and studying, my mind kept drifting to Chris. That stupid accidental like on his Instagram post had spun me for a loop, and no matter how much I tried to push it out of my head, it kept creeping back in. The embarrassment was almost unbearable. Why did it bother me so much? I’d accidentally liked posts before, and it never affected me like this. But this was different. This was him.

Chris Sturniolo, the boy who had practically disappeared from my life without a word. He had just faded away, like a distant memory. And now, years later, I was reminded of him, suddenly thinking about him more than I had any right to. Maybe it was the nostalgia, or maybe it was the curiosity of what had happened to him. Either way, I needed to think about what I had in front of me.

By the end of the night, I was no closer to finishing my assignments, but I had at least made some progress. I pushed my laptop aside and let out a sigh, staring at the ceiling of my room. Tomorrow would be a new day, and I had more important things to focus on, like sitting in on a real courtroom session for class. I needed to be sharp and professional, not distracted by old crushes and awkward social media moments.

I passed out somewhere around 1am, and before I knew it, my alarm was going off and I was dressed and heading out the door, ready to make my way to the Boston Municipal Court. The air was crisp, the chill of fall settling in as I walked through the city streets. My nerves were kicking in, not just because of the courtroom experience I was about to witness, but because of the burning feeling that something was about to shift. I couldn't explain it, but I put it down to anxiety about the court case, how I could see someone's life trajectory change in a matter of moments.

I arrived at the courthouse, its towering stone facade looming over me as I approached. It felt both intimidating and exciting, like I was about to step into a new chapter of my life. This courtroom session was an essential part of my course, and would be continuous over this school year - a real life experience to get a feel for how things worked in the legal world. I was supposed to be focused on the case, taking notes, observing the process, everything a future lawyer would need to know.

But as I stepped inside and found a seat toward the back of the courtroom, my thoughts kept drifting. I couldn't shake Chris from my mind. Why now? Why was he coming up in my thoughts so much? We hadn’t spoken in years, and yet here I was, obsessing over an accidental like on his ghostly Instagram account. It didn’t make any sense. I had so much more to worry about, but the memory of him kept pulling me away from the present.

The courtroom slowly filled with people, lawyers and clerks coming in and out, papers shuffling, the judge already seated high above. I forced myself to sit up straighter, grabbing my notepad and pen, determined to focus. This was important. I couldn’t afford to be distracted.

“The court is now in session” the judge’s voice boomed, commanding attention.

I scribbled the date at the top of my notepad, trying to look engaged, but my thoughts wandered again. Stop it Y/n. 

The prosecutor began introducing the case. My pen hovered over the notepad as I half listened, already feeling my focus slip away. Something about possession, conspiracy to sell, it all sounded so dry compared to the whirlwind going on in my head.

But then, the prosecutor said something that yanked me out of my thoughts.

“The defendant, Mr. Nathan Doe-”

My heart nearly stopped.

What?

I blinked, my brain struggling to process what I’d just heard. Nathan Doe? There was no way.

I snapped my head up, my eyes wide as they locked onto the judge. My pulse quickened. Could it really be him? Nate Doe, the guy same guy that was only mentioned just the other night? Chris’s best friend?

I looked around the courtroom, my stomach twisting. It had to be a coincidence, right? But I’ve never met another Nathan Doe.

The judge continued, outlining the charges: too much weed, conspiracy to sell, and smoking in public. It wasn’t the most serious of offences, but still enough to land Nate in front of a judge. And now that I was really listening, I knew, this was him. This was Chris’s Nate, standing trial for a drug charge.

I sat back in my seat, completely thrown off. What were the odds? It felt like the universe was pulling me into something, something I wasn’t prepared for.

The case moved forward quickly. The prosecutor outlined the details. Nate had been caught late at night with a sizable amount of weed on him, enough to raise suspicion of intent to sell. There had been rumours he was involved in something bigger - something connected to the ongoing gang feud between the Crimson Cartel and another gang. But those rumours had been dismissed, simply because they’re hear say. Nate was just a guy caught with too much weed, nothing more.

I let out a breath. At least it wasn’t anything more serious. Nate had messed up, sure, but it didn’t seem like his life was about to be ruined over this.

The judge leaned back, considering the case for a moment. The room was quiet, tension hanging in the air. Then, finally, the judge gave his ruling.

“Nathan Doe, you are hereby ordered to make a charitable donation of $2,000 and to complete 50 hours of community service. Additionally, you are expected to refrain from any drug related activities for the next 12 months. Any violation of this order will result in harsher consequences.”

I sat there in stunned silence as the courtroom began to stir, people packing up their papers and preparing to leave. Nate had gotten off pretty lightly, all things considered. No jail time, no heavy fines, just a slap on the wrist and some community service. He’d been lucky.

The judge adjourned the court, and I stood, gathering my things. I was still processing everything when I saw it.

The back of a head, messy brown hair standing out among the sea of people leaving the courtroom.

Chris.

I blinked, certain I was imagining it, but there was no mistaking it. The same messy brown hair, slightly longer than I remembered, and the familiar dishevelled style. He was standing just a few rows ahead of me, getting up to leave as casually as if this were just another day for him.

My heart pounded against my chest, my mind racing to process the sight. He was here.

The courtroom felt like it had shrunk in size, the walls closing in as my vision narrowed on him. Chris, the boy who had vanished from my life all those years ago, was standing a few feet away. Older now, but still unmistakably him. He was taller, more solid, but the sight of him sent a jolt of electricity through me. How could this be happening? The rush of memories collided with the reality of the moment, the image of him, a person I never thought I’d see again, suddenly appear back into my life.

And my god, he was still just as good looking. Maybe even more so. His face had matured, the angles sharper, and there was a quiet intensity in the way he carried himself now. Gone was the boyish charm, replaced by something darker, more serious.

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling slightly as I tried to keep it together. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. What were the odds? First Nate, now Chris? My mind raced, panic setting in.

Should I say something? Should I call out to him? No what the fuck would I be doing yelling in a court room. Oh my god he definitely knows I was stalking him too. Maybe I should just avoid him.

The idea made my stomach churn, the second hand embarrassment from the accidental Instagram like still fresh in my mind. my mind screamed. I’d tried to play it cool, but there was no undoing that little heart popping up on his post. Maybe he hadn’t noticed?

God, I hoped not.

Just avoid him. 

That seemed like the best idea right now. Avoid him and get out of here before I did something stupid or said something even worse. But as much as I told myself to leave, my feet wouldn’t listen. My eyes were locked on him, glued to the sight of him moving through the aisle, his head slightly lowered as he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.

I tried to snap out of it, to move, but the weight of my thoughts held me back. It was like seeing a ghost, someone I had long thought was buried in the past. But here he was, alive and real, and my heart didn’t know how to handle it.

As he neared the doors of the courtroom, my body finally kicked into gear. I shuffled down the aisle, clutching my things tightly and keeping my gaze low, hoping I could sneak out without running into him. Just keep your head down, Y/n.

I had just made it into the hallway when I felt a presence beside me. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced sideways, and there he was. Chris.

No, no, no.

His eyes caught mine before I could look away. Shit.

“Y/n?” His voice was deeper than I remembered, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo

[bat-mom-writer]

Rage and Redemption Part 6

Bruce Wayne X adapted reader

Summery: you get in a fight with Damian

Rating: angst, curing, you and Damian getting a lecture

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

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"Damian," Bruce greets, his voice a mix of affection and greeting.

The younger boy, Damian, stops short, his eyes flickering between the two of you, the jar of pickles, and the plate with the ketchup. His expression is unreadable, a mask that seems to be a part of his very being.

"I see," he says, his voice clipped and precise, "that we're having a picnic in the kitchen." You narrow your eyes at him, the sudden hostility in his tone a stark contrast to the light-hearted banter that had been filling the room just moments ago.

Dick's smile never falters, "Hey, Dame," he says casually, using the nickname that feels like a shield. "You haven't actually met our newest addition to the family, have you?"

Damian's gaze shifts to you, his eyes cold and assessing. You feel the weight of his stare, like a knife pressing against the soft underbelly of your vulnerability. "I am very aware of the newest addition," he says, his voice devoid of emotion. "I've heard her…expressive habits."

You clench your teeth, the anger flaring up again. "What's your problem?" you challenge him, the words cutting through the air like a shard of glass.

Damian's gaze never leaves yours. "I don't have a problem," he says, his tone flat. "I'm just surprised to see Father playing nanny."

"Damian." Bruce's voice is firm, the warning clear. But the younger boy doesn't budge, his eyes locked on you.

You stand up, the chair scraping against the floor, the sound echoing through the kitchen. "I didn't think a few broken vases would scare you off," you say, your voice laced with defiance.

Damian's eyes narrow, the challenge in your voice not lost on him. "I'm not one to hide away from a few shards of glass," he says, his tone even. "I just know when to avoid unnecessary mess."

Bruce's hand lands on your shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. "Damian," he repeats, "that's enough."

You shrug him off, the anger in your veins pulsing with every beat of your heart. "Why don't you go back to whatever hole you crawled out of, you no good piece of shit?" you spit out, the words coming before you can think better of it.

Damian's eyes flare with something that might be anger, but it's quickly masked by his usual apathy. "Careful," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't know who you're speaking to."

"I know who," you start, your voice trembling with anger as you stand up, ready to leap at Damian, "a no good piece of-"

But before you can leap at Damian, Bruce's arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back into the solid wall of his chest. You struggle against him, but his grip is firm, his body unyielding. "That's enough," he says, his voice a low rumble that resonates through you. His eyes are on Damian, his expression stern, but there's a softness in his gaze that's directed at you.

"Let me go," you hiss, your fists clenched. You can feel the tension in his arms, the tightness of his grip, but he doesn't release you.

"Not until you calm down," Bruce says, his breath warm against your neck.

You jerk away, pointing a finger at Damian. "He started it!" you yell, the words echoing off the kitchen tiles.

Damian raises an eyebrow, his gaze unflinching. "I merely made an observation," he says, his voice as cold as the marble countertops. "You started it with the first vase you threw."

"And I'll finish it with throwing you!" you shout, the anger in your voice a physical force.

But Bruce's grip on you doesn't falter. "That's enough," he says firmly, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. He guides you back to the chair, his hand on your shoulderuntil you're sitting again. "Damian," he says, turning his gaze to his son, "to your room. We'll talk later."

Damian's jaw clenches his eyes never leaving yours. He turns and leaves the kitchen, the door swinging behind him. The sound echoes through the room, the final note in the symphony of your anger.

The room is quiet again, the only sound the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. You look down at your plate, the pickles and ketchup a sad reminder of the fragility of the moment. Dick's smile fades, the tension in the air thickening like the sauce on your plate.

"Dick," Bruce says, his voice a low rumble that you feel more than hear. Dick's eyes flicker from you to Bruce, understanding crossing his face. He nods once, the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall.

The kitchen feels smaller now, the warmth from the oven no match for the sudden chill left in the wake of the argument. You're left with just Bruce, his eyes still on you, filled with a mix of concern and something else.

Crouching in front of you, "Look at me," he says, his voice low and steady. His hands come up to frame your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears you didn't realize had started to fall. His eyes bore into yours, the intensity of his gaze making you feel like he's trying to see right into your soul.

You swipe at your face with the back of your hand, your eyes burning with defiance. "You finally going to punish me?" you ask, your voice thick with unshed tears and anger. "Or are you just going to pretend like this is all okay?"

Bruce's eyes never leave yours as he shakes his head. "This isn't about punishment," he says, his voice soothing despite the firmness of his grip. "It's about understanding. And learning how to handle our emotions in a way that doesn't hurt ourselves or others."

You want to scream at him, tell him he doesn't understand, that it's all his fault. "He started it!" you blurt out again, the words a childish defense that feels both right and wrong.

Bruce's gaze doesn't waver. "I know," he says, his voice gentle but firm. "But you have to decide when to end it." He lets go of your shoulders, his hands moving to rest on the countertop, his knuckles white. "You can't let anger control you. It'll eat you up from the inside out."

You cross your arms over your chest, the action a barrier against his words. "I'm not supposed to not get mad when he was the one being an ass," you argue, the fire in your eyes not dimming.

Bruce's gaze softens, his arms coming to his sides. "You're right, Damian can be… difficult. But lashing out won't solve anything," he says, his tone measured. "And calling names doesn't make you any better than him."

You grit your teeth, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Why shouldn't I get mad?" you ask, your voice rising. "If he starts it, I'm only making it fair."

Bruce's eyes never leave yours as he takes a deep, measured breath. "Because you're not him," he says, his voice steady. "You're better than that. You don't have to respond to anger with anger. It's a cycle that doesn't end well for anyone."

You huff, looking away from him. You don't want to hear it. You don't want to be the bigger person. You just want to be mad. You want to scream and throw more vases, to let the anger out like a pressure valve on a boiling pot. But the kitchen remains silent, the only sound the tick of the clock in the hallway, a reminder that time is passing, that the world is moving on even if you're not ready to.

"When you see… Batman," he says slowly, his eyes searching yours, "does he solve his problems with violence?"

You scoff, the question hitting too close to home. "That's different."

Bruce's eyes stay on yours, unwavering. "Is it?" he asks, his voice calm. "Because like you, he also has a reason to be angry. Criminals do terrible things to him, they hurt the people he cares about, and they make fun of him. But he chooses to respond differently. He fights for justice without letting his anger control him."

You look away, the truth of his words stinging. You know he's right, but it's hard to accept. You've been holding onto the anger like it's all you have left of your parents, a piece of them that keeps them with you, somehow. "But he's Batman," you murmur, the words a whisper. "He's not just some orphan kid. He's… he's Batman."

Bruce sighs, his hands falling away. "No," he says, his voice gentle. "He's just a man who's been through a lot of pain, too. And he's found a way to use that pain to help others."

You lean back in the chair, the wood cool against your back. You're not ready to let go of the anger, not yet. It's all you've had to keep you company, a familiar cloak that shields you from the pain of your loss.

"Okay, I'll stop lecturing," Bruce says, his voice a gentle rumble that seems to vibrate through the air. It's like he's trying to soothe a wild animal, and maybe that's not far from the truth. "But I think it's time we talked about where to channel that anger of yours." He stands, his arms folding over his chest.

"I think it's time we explore some new outlets," Bruce says, his tone measured and calm. "You're not the first to experience such loss and anger. There are ways to cope that don't involve destruction."

You bite your lip, considering his words. The anger inside of you is a raging bonfire, but his gentle touch and understanding gaze feel like the first droplets of rain on the scorching embers. "Like what?" you ask, your voice small.

"Well," Bruce says, his eyes searching yours, "you know I train. It's how I deal with my own demons. It's a good way to release anger in a controlled environment." His voice is measured, like he's weighing each word carefully.

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't like working out," you reply, your tone as stubborn as ever. The very idea of sweating and pushing your body to its limits is about as appealing as a mouthful of dirt.

But Bruce doesn't back down, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's not just about working out," he says, his voice patient. "It's about discipline, about channeling your anger and pain into something positive."

"If I have to," you grumble, not quite ready to admit defeat.

Bruce nods, his expression unreadable. "It's a start," he says, his voice still gentle. "We'll go slow, okay?" he says, "We'll find what works for you."

You grumble but don't protest further. The idea of doing something productive with your anger is strange, but the thought of having someone, anyone, understand what you're going through is even stranger. You've been so lost in your own pain that you forgot people could relate, could empathize.

"Whatever." You mumble, slumping deeper into the chair, the leather cool and unforgiving against your back. The kitchen feels too quiet without Dick's laughter, too serious without the distraction of his antics.

But Bruce doesn't seem to notice, or if he does, he doesn't let it phase him. He returns to the pickle jar, grabbing another slice and holding it out to you. "First," he says, his voice firm but kind, "let's get more food into you."

You eye the pickle, the anger still simmering in your veins. You don't want his pity, his charity, but your stomach betrays you with a loud growl. You snatch the pickle from his hand, the sourness a surprising comfort. You chew, the sound of your teeth grinding the cucumber echoing through the kitchen.

Bruce doesn't say anything, just watches you with a knowing look. You know he's waiting for you to crack, to give him the opening he needs to get through to you. But you're not ready to be fixed. You're not even sure you can be fixed.

"Anything else you'd like to eat?" he asks, holding up the jar of pickles.

You shake your head, the anger inside of you a simmering pot ready to boil over at the slightest provocation. "No," you say, taking the jar from him. You don't wait for his reaction, you just turn and stalk out of the kitchen, the cold glass feeling good in your hand.

Bruce sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. He watches you go, his expression a mix of disappointment and understanding.

Once he heard the door to your bedroom slam shut, Bruce took a moment to collect himself. He took a deep breath, then headed up the stairs to Damian's room, the same stairs you'd both descended just minutes ago.

He reached the door and paused, his hand hovering over the knob. He knew that Damian was probably seething, that his words had hit a nerve. But he also knew that this was a critical moment, one that could either push his son further away or draw him closer to understanding the gravity of the situation.

"Damian," he called out, his voice firm but not unkind. The door to the room creaked open, and Damian stood in the threshold, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes narrowed in challenge.

"Father," Damian's voice was cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of the kitchen moments ago.

Bruce nodded, his gaze holding Damian's. "Walk with me," he said, his voice gentle but firm. He didn't wait for Damian response, just turned and started walking down the hallway, the light from the chandelier casting a soft glow on the polished floors.

Damian hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking from Bruce to the floor, then he followed, his footsteps echoing down the long corridor. "Need I say anything?" Bruce asked, not looking at him.

Damian felt the weight of his father's gaze even though it wasn't directed at him. "If you are meaning to lecture me about manners, I already know," he said, his voice clipped. "You would say I must be more welcoming to guests."

Bruce stopped and turned to face him, his eyes filled with a gentle reprimand. "Then why weren't you?" he asked, his voice echoing through the hallway.

Damian's eyes flashed with something like anger, his jaw tightening. "Because she's not just a guest," he snapped back, his words sharp as knives. "She's a wild card, a disruption to our lives."

Bruce sighed, his eyes on the floor as he started down the stairs. "That's where you're wrong," he said, his voice carrying the weight of years of experience. "She's a child who's lost everything, just like we have. She's hurt and she's scared."

Damian's steps followed, his eyes narrowed. "And she takes it out on everything and everyone around her," he shot back, his voice filled with accusation. "Including you, Father."

Bruce's eyes remained on the stairs, his jaw clenched. "And that's exactly why we need to be patient with her," he said, each word deliberate. "Because she's lost everything she's ever known, and she's feeling helpless. Anger is her shield."

Damian's frustration was palpable, his voice tight as he followed Bruce through the mansion. "She's mouthy, a brat," he spat out, "And you expect me to be patient?"

Bruce's eyes never left the floor as they entered his office, the heavy oak door closing behind them with a muffled thud. The room was a bastion of calm amidst the storm of their words, the moonlight filtering through the tall windows and casting a soft, silver glow on the mahogany desk and the bookshelves that lined the walls. The air was thick with the scent of aged leather and the faint tang of ink from the countless tomes that contained the knowledge Bruce had gathered over the years.

Bruce turns to face Damian, his eyes a stark reminder of the authority he holds. "I expect you not to start fights," he corrects, his voice a low rumble that seems to resonate through the very air. His gaze is unyielding, "There's a difference between defending yourself and looking for trouble."

Damian opens his mouth to protest, but something in Bruce's expression silences him. "We all have our demons, Damian," he says, his voice softer now, "And she's no different." Bruce took a moment to look at Damian, his gaze searching the depths of his son's soul."

"You're more like her than you care to realize," he says, his voice carrying a hint of sadness. "Both of you have lost your way, and it's my job to guide you back."

Damian's eyes narrowed, his arms still crossed in defiance. "I'm nothing like her," he spits out, the words tinged with anger.

Ignoring the comment, Bruce walks over to the Shakespeare bust on the desk, his steps measured and deliberate. He pulls the head down, revealing a hidden button. The bust clicks back into place, a silent acknowledgment of the secret it guards. The tension in the room seems to thicken as the bookshelf slides aside, revealing the elevator to the Batcave.

Damian doesn't even look at the elevator; he's seen it many times, the silent sentinel that whispers of their nocturnal battles against the darkness of Gotham. He focuses instead on his father's back, his eyes tracing the line of Bruce's shoulders as he moves with the grace of a predator. The elevator doors open with a soft hiss, the cold, metallic scent of the cave wafting into the warmth of the office.

Bruce turns to him, his eyes piercing through the shadows. "Damian," he says, his voice low and serious. "You both have a lot to learn from each other. You just need to be willing to see it."

Without waiting for a reply, Bruce steps into the elevator, and after a brief hesitation, Damian follows. The doors close with a finality that seems to echo the unspoken words hanging between them. As the elevator descends, the tension in the small space is palpable, the only sound the soft hum of machinery beneath their feet.

"You know what makes us different, Father," Damian finally says, his voice tight.

Bruce meets Damian's gaze in the elevator's reflection, the steel walls framing their tense silhouettes.

"She's no Robin." Damian's voice, his eyes never leaving Bruce's reflection. The words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the chasm between you and the rest of the Wayne family.

Bruce's expression doesn't change as he continues to look at him through the reflection. "No," he agrees, "she's not. But she's someone who needs help, someone who deserves a chance to find their place in this world."

The elevator jolts to a stop, the cables groaning in protest before the doors open with a smooth whoosh. The Batcave, a sprawling underground complex filled with the tools of their nightly vigil, stretches out before them, the stark contrast of light and shadow playing over the gleaming surfaces of high-tech gadgets and the rough, organic lines of the cave walls. The air is cool and damp, the scent of earth and oil mingling with the faint electrical hum of the machinery.

"And you think you can help her here?" Damian asks, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "Have you even told her of… of what you do?"

Bruce turns to face him fully, the gravity of his gaze weighing heavily. "Not yet," he admits, "but when the time is right, I will. For now, she's just a lost girl who needs guidance, not the burden of our world."

Damian's eyes narrow, the unspoken question hanging in the air like a storm cloud. "What if she's not worth it?" he finally asks, his voice echoing off the cold, stone walls. "What if she's just going to cause more trouble?"

Bruce sighs, his hand resting on the elevator's railing. "We don't get to decide who's worth it," he says, turning to face his son. "We just do our best to help those who are in need of our help. And if you can't see that, then maybe it's time for you to take a step back and remember why we do this."

Damian's eyes flash with a mix of anger and understanding as he looks at his father. He knows Bruce is right, but the idea of opening their lives to someone else, especially someone so volatile and unpredictable, is unsettling. The Batcave is their sanctuary, their fortress against the chaos of the world, and he doesn't want to see it compromised.

"Fine," he says through gritted teeth, his arms uncrossing to let out a sigh. "But if she messes up, if she doesn't learn to control herself…" His voice trails off, the threat hanging in the air.

Bruce's gaze is unwavering. "I will handle it," he says firmly, his eyes speaking volumes of trust and belief in the your potential. "But for now, let's focus on making her feel welcome and supported."

The two of them continue to walk through the Batcave, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the cold, damp walls. The lights flicker on as they pass, illuminating the various vehicles and weapons that stand sentinel around them. Weight of their conversation lingering in the air, a palpable presence that seems to cling to every shadow.

Damian's eyes dart around the cavernous space, taking in the various pieces of technology and weaponry that have been meticulously designed and crafted for their nightly battles. His mind is racing with doubt and frustration, but he knows better than to argue with his father.

As they round the corner, the sight of Dick emerging from the shadows in his Nightwing gear stops him in his tracks. Dick's eyes, shimmering with excitement behind the mask, meet his. "We heading out?" Dick asks, his voice filled with anticipation.

Bruce nods, his expression unreadable. "Yes, we are," he confirms, turning to Damian. "Get suited up, we have work to do."

Part 7

[acatalepsy-and-tea]

Saw a post saying that many of the classic companions would have smoked, and it got me thinking:

Would the incarnation of the Doctor smoke?

(disclaimer; smoking is bad and kills you and all that, this is just a thought experiment)

1: Canonically smokes pipe

2: Vapes

3: Hates smoking and frequently tells everyone around him even though the whole of UNIT smokes (one time he caught Jo and the Master smoking together and lectured them both)

4: Smokes weed

5: Doesn't consume any substances

6: Consumes everything he can get his hands on

7: Occasionally smokes pipe to appear mysterious, or cigarettes when he had to take a pack away from Ace

8: Takes about anything but doesn't smoke

9: Smokes to deal with trauma

10: Smokes to deal with depression until Martha annoys him to stop. He picks it back up with Donna (she smokes bc of stress and also socially)

11: Has those candy cigarettes with him all the time (everyone think it's a silly quirk), vapes when no one else is looking, probably disgustingly sweet flavors

12: Picked up cigarettes once but was scolded so heavily by Clara that he put them right back. Missy convinced him once to try weed, he had a mild psychotic episode and vowed to never touch drugs again. Does enjoy a fancy drink (without ginger) once and again though

13: Hates smoking. Is more or less canonically an alcoholic though, so there's that

14: Doesn't smoke cigarettes because he wants to be a good role model for Rose. Shares the occasional joint with Shawn and Donna at night when everyone else's asleep though

15: Honestly, I'm very unsure here. I can see him vaping, but I can also see him being on a health trip and saying no to any substances

[cyan-exists]

My Mozus Trein Headcanons

1.) Mozus Trein is the type of teacher who will stay after school for multiple hours, just to make sure his students get any help they need with their school work.

2.) He can tell the difference between a student being lazy by choice, and a student who appears 'lazy' because they have something else going on.

2.a.) For those students he is the first teacher to inquire if they are doing alright, and offer them assistance with school work.

2.b.) He is his neurodivergent students biggest advocate. He will always ensure they are getting the accommodations they need to be successful.

3.) With his belief that school is the most import thing for a student, he also believes the most important thing for a teacher is to teach their students. This leads to him being the first to help students with issues that are preventing them from being successful as they can.

3.a.) He said, "If you do find something else just as important, let me know. But only if you do." I interpret that as, "If something truly is as important to you as school should be, please inform me so we can discuss it and figure out how to work around it to ensure your schooling is not negatively affected.

4.) He doesn't get mad at his students for not understanding the school work, he will simply try to find a way he can teach them that they are receptive to. (Interpreted from his 'Exam: Lose' voice lines)

4.a.) He will then inform the other teachers about the students learning style, so that the student can receive the best education possible.

5.) He will not allow his students to be in harms way when they are around him. If something happens that could risk their safety, he will use himself as a shield if he has no other way.

6.) He will not tolerate teachers who treat their students as if they are not people, let alone children. He will lecture the teacher(s) until he deems them sufficiently taught.

6.a.) He has caused teachers to quite teaching because he found out how they were treating their students and the teachers were so scared of him after he lectured them that they no longer felt safe teaching.

7.) Most students (and staff) considers him to be the (unofficial) Headmage.

8.) While the students may believe that he is strict and scary, they also know that he is fair and trustworthy, so students will go to him if they are being mistreated or bullied, whether by other students, teachers, or even their parents.

9.) Sometimes students will get him gifts, and they are always something cat related, or a (new or hard to find) book relating to one of the subjects he is interested in/teaches.

10.) He can be sassy at times, mostly unintentionally. (Interpreted from Seventh NRC Joint Exam: About Faculty 1)

11.) He does not use school work as a punishment. He believes it to be counter productive, as students will view their work as a punishment even when that is not the intention.

12.) He is quite the foodie. He enjoys trying new foods and will share this hobby with others.

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 18 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: Buck’s hands trail down to your hands. He takes his in yours. “Do you love him?” “Buck.” “I know you love me,” Buck continues, playing with your fingers. “You know I love you. But I’m asking if you love him.” The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15 | Ch 16 | Ch 17

(Gif by me) Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: *are spoilers*, listed at the end

Adrenaline replaces your blood. An unpleasant sensation washes over you. The same three words keep bouncing between your ears.

Buck is dead.

Buck is dead.

Buck is…

“V-tach!” Someone shouts. “Everyone clear!”

Buck’s chest jolts upwards as the shock is administered.

“We got a pulse!”

You heave out a breath. You feel helpless as they wheel him away.

“H-he has a history of blood clots,” you eventually call out. “He’s not on any medications, but he’s allergic to naproxen.”

“Got it,” A doctor calls in response, “we’ll do our best.”

“Do more!” Eddie shouts as they turn the corner.

You turn to Eddie, limbs numb from shock. “What the hell happened?”

“It was so quick,” Eddie whispers, still staring straight ahead. “One second, he was up on the ladder, and the next, he was just… dangling. He was dead.”

You set a careful hand on Eddie’s shoulder, which prompts him to pull you into a hug.

“He’s gonna be okay,” you whisper.

You don’t know what you’ll do if he isn’t.

Buck awakens slowly, blinking a few times before fully opening his eyes.

“It’s about time,” you say softly.

Buck figures out quickly that he’s in a hospital; the air is stale, his usual pajamas are replaced by a gown, and the sheets beneath him are stiff instead of soft. The only problem is, he doesn’t know why he’s in the hospital. If anything, he should be there for you, since your due date is quickly approaching.

“What happened?” Buck asks, rubbing his forehead as he slowly comes to.

“You fell off a ladder, hit your head. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything too serious. Daniel will be back with your discharge papers.”

“...Daniel? My brother?”

You were there for Buck when he learned about his older brother. He has no clue why you’re talking about him now.

“...yeah?” you say with a confused smile. “I’m going to start packing stuff up.”

You stand up, and Buck’s eyes widen.

“You’re not pregnant,” he whispers.

“Thank god for that,” you laugh out, putting a few things into your purse.

“W-what happened?” Buck chokes out. “D-did you… oh, god…”

“What? Whoa, hey!” You spin around, quickly moving to Buck when you see how panicked he is. “Baby, I was pregnant. Two years ago.”

Buck lets out a sigh of relief. “Katie.”

You smile, setting your hands on his cheeks. “Yes, Katie, our daughter. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Buck has a daughter. He’s never been more okay in his life. He relaxes, running his hands up and down your arms.

“What about Eddie?”

Your smile turns into one of confusion. “What about Eddie?”

“How… How is he?” Buck asks dumbly.

You shrug, your hands falling to your sides. “No clue. I haven’t talked to him since be moved back to Texas.”

Buck’s head feels like it’s spinning. “...huh?”

“His parents got full custody of his kid, and he moved to Texas to be closer to them,” you explain casually. “You don’t remember that?”

How can you sound so calm about it? Eddie is a huge part of both of your lives. Hell, he’s one of Katie’s parents … isn’t he?

“We… we’re not… he didn’t…”

Buck cuts himself off with a few gasps. He tries to take a deep breath, but his lungs feel constricted. He’s panicking, and he has no idea how to stop it.

“We need a nurse!” Eddie shouts before you can.

You’re supposed to be one in a few months, but you’ve never felt so out of your depth. You had a single lecture about ventilators in nursing school, most of which you didn’t retain. All you see is that the top bar — the volume of air delivered — is alarming. You see Buck’s chest rapidly rising and falling.

“Buck, if you can hear me, you need to breathe, okay?” you whisper in his ear as you run a hand over his face. “Just breathe, baby.”

A few nurses rush in, and you step back before they have to push you out of the way.

“His sats are dropping,” one nurse notes while the other puts a stethoscope to Buck’s chest. “We need to take him off and a bag him.”

You keep backing up until you hit something. A pair of strong arms wrap around you, one resting across your chest while the other cradles your stomach. Eddie.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Eddie whispers in your ear.

All you can do is grip his arm like a lifeline.

“Buck, can you hear me? …Buck!”

Buck looks around, his eyes landing on you.

“Where’d you go, babe?” you chuckle.

“Sorry, I was… I don’t know. Sorry.”

The details come back to him slowly: his parents and Daniel came over for family dinner, along with Maddie, her daughter, and her husband. Her daughter and husband, Genevieve and Doug. A bitter taste fills Buck’s mouth.

“I can’t believe she stayed with him,” he says quietly. “He’s gonna kill her.”

You sigh sadly as you gather some plates. “I think I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve told her that. I mean, hell, we work in an ER together, for god’s sake. She’s seen what men are capable of. I know leaving is easier said than done, but…”

Buck’s memories are hazy, only occasionally coming into focus. As you turn on the sink, he studies you.

“You’re a nurse,” he says.

“Sure am,” you return. “It’s not like that’s how we met, or anything.”

Oh, yeah. Buck stopped by after school let out to check up on a student he had to call EMS for. The poor girl had a seizure, scared the crap out of her classmates. She had already transferred to the pediatric floor for monitoring by the time he got there, but in the ER, he ran into you. He asked Maddie for your number, and the rest was history.

A student… Buck’s a teacher. 5th…? No, 6th grade. On his first date with you, he explained that 6th grade is the best because you get to see children growing into their personalities before the awkward teenage years. God, he loves his job. He knows you love yours, too, and though they aren’t in the same profession, it’s something you both quickly bonded over.

“Just testing you,” Buck jokes.

You face him with a hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. His brows knit closer together ever so slightly. You pick up on it.

“What’s wrong?” you ask softly.

“Something feels… off,” Buck replies, unsure of how else to phrase it. “It’s like all the pieces of a puzzle are falling into place, but one is missing.”

“Poetic,” you remark.

“I’m serious,” Buck insists. “...Why did he move away?”

You sigh as you move your hands down to Buck’s shoulders. “We’re not seriously talking about Eddie again, are we?”

“It just… feels like it never really ended, right? Like he’s a loose end.”

“Oh, he’s something alright,” you scoff as you turn back towards the sink and start washing dishes.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

You set down a plate with a clatter. “You remember what he did, Evan: he almost destroyed us.”

A little while after Eddie’s shooting, the three of you sat down and wrote your Advanced Directives and assigned each other as Power of Attorneys in case of… well, something exactly like this. So when Dr. Becker asks to speak to you and Eddie privately, you know it’s to discuss further treatment options.

Turns out, there aren’t very many. They already have him on a paralytic drip to keep him compliant with the ventilator, but his lungs still aren’t pulling good tidal volumes. She says that proning— or laying him on his stomach — could maybe improve things, but considering the cause of his respiratory failure, it’s unlikely.

“...which leaves us with Extracorporeal Membrane Oxygenation as our best option.”

“ECMO?” you ask.

ECMO is another topic you had a singular lecture on, but you know enough to know it’s not good. You also know it’s not good because you, Eddie, Dr. Becker, and Buck’s nurse are all sitting in a secluded conference room. You don’t get good news in a hospital conference room.

Dr. Becker nods. “It would be Veno-Venous, meaning it bypasses the lungs instead of the lungs and the heart.”

Eddie nods a little. “Well, that’s… good, right? I mean, bypassing one organ sounds better than bypassing two.”

You keep staring at Dr. Becker. “There’s something you’re not saying.”

Eddie frowns, glancing between the two of you. “What? What aren’t you saying?”

Dr. Becker sighs. “ECMO is known as a ‘Hail Mary’ in the world of medicine.”

That’s how you remember your instructor phrasing it — ECMO is an absolute last-ditch effort. It’s only considered when every other option has been explored.

“It’s not a cure: it’s a bridge,” you say, trying (and failing) to keep your voice level.

“It can give him the time his lungs need to heal,” Dr. Becker explains.

“And if it doesn’t, he’d need a transplant,” you continue. “And if he can’t get a transplant…”

“...he would stay on ECMO indefinitely.”

“...Or he would…” you start but cut yourself off with a sob. You clasp a hand over your mouth, forcing yourself to take a breath. “...or he would die.”

The words don’t sit right on your tongue. Your lips twist as they make their way out, like you ate something sour.

Dr. Becker’s face stays even, but you catch a glimpse of something in her eyes: pity. “Yes.”

You scoot back in your chair, making a break for the door. The protests of Dr. Becker and Eddie make it to your ears but not your brain. All you can focus on is the bile that’s climbing to the back of your throat.

You slam open the door of a single-stall bathroom, barely able to lock it before you collapse to your knees in front of the toilet. You gag several times, only spit and stomach acid eventually making their way up. Now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you ate something.

You eventually sit on the floor, resting your head against the tile wall. You take a few breaths, rubbing your palm over your chest. Then, you feel a sudden gush between your legs. Against your better judgment, you stay seated, eyes wide and heart pounding.

No. No, no, no. Not now. Not with everything going on.

Not without him.

Eddie said he was in love with you, and you said you were dating Buck. Buck’s pretty sure that’s part of why he moved to Texas: to get away from you. Something about it doesn’t sit right in his stomach.

“That’s not how it was supposed to happen,” Buck murmurs, setting his hands on the counter and leaning into it.

“How exactly was it supposed to happen?” you counter, placing your left hand close to his.

Buck sees a ring. It’s a diamond, probably not a real one, but it looks convincing enough. His eyes move to his own left hand, and sure enough, a gold band is wrapped around his fourth finger.

“We’re married,” he says, almost inaudibly.

“You proposed after a year,” you recall fondly. “I thought you were crazy, but… it’s our five-year anniversary next week.”

Buck should be happy. He should be overjoyed, really — he has everything he’s ever wanted. He has a beautiful wife, an amazing daughter, and a fulfilling career. Still, his gut twists and turns.

“He was in love with you,” Buck eventually says.

“And I’m in love with you,” you state, “so nothing else matters.”

“But it does,” Buck argues, pushing against the counter until he’s standing up straight. “It does matter.”

“Why?” you frown. “Eddie is long gone, Buck. That chapter of our lives has been closed for a while.”

“It’s not supposed to happen like this!” Buck shouts.

You go still, swallowing. “What does that mean?”

“It’s… it’s supposed to be the five of us!” Buck says as he starts to pace. “It’s supposed to be me, you, and him, raising Katie and Chris.”

You look at him like he’s speaking French. “What the hell are you talking about, Buck?”

Buck halts his pacing and turns to you. “Are you in love with him?”

You snort. “What?”

“Are you in love with him?” He repeats.

“Buck, I love you,” you counter.

“I know you do, and you know I love you,” Buck says, a sense of deja vu washing over him, “but I’m asking if you love him.”

You and Eddie ultimately consent to the ECMO cannulation. Buck’s struggled his whole life, and he’s always taken it in stride. He deserves the chance to walk away from this.

That being said, he drew some strong lines in the sand in his Advanced Directives, and you and Eddie have no intentions of erasing them. Buck specifically refused the placement of a tracheostomy and gave a general timeline of two weeks for his status to improve before medical efforts should be ceased. He also said that if at any point it’s suspected he won’t make a meaningful recovery, care should be withdrawn. You’re not at that point yet, but with each hour, you can feel it getting closer.

You went home after agreeing to the cannulation, too emotionally and physically exhausted to stick around. Besides, Chris should have at least one of his parents send him off to school that morning. You briefly explained Buck’s condition and that children aren’t allowed to visit in the ICU before kissing his cheek and seeing him off for the day.

When you finally get a chance to change, you notice the gush you felt earlier; it’s the ‘bloody show’ your OB warned you about. It’s a mix of the mucus plug and some frank blood, normally passed anywhere from days to hours before active labor. You still have time.

Then, as if the universe is playing a trick on you, you feel a contraction.

You lean against the dresser, inhaling slowly. Braxton Hicks are noticeable, but they’re short, normally lasting only a few seconds. By the time you’re done exhaling, it’s over. Or… it should be over. This one continues.

“Come on, Katie,” you mumble, rubbing up and down your tight belly, “not now.”

You count to twenty before the contraction ceases. The paramedic part of your brain screams, but the overly tired part takes over. You don’t panic. You don’t call Eddie. You don’t call anyone.

You go to sleep.

“It… it doesn’t matter,” you repeat, tripping over the words.

“It doesn’t?” Buck challenges. “Because I love him.”

“Why are you doing this?” you whisper.

The look on your face hurts Buck’s heart. Still, he persists.

“This isn’t how this is supposed to happen,” Buck says softly. “This… it isn’t real.”

“Buck, I love you,” you cry. “We have a family.”

“This isn’t real,” Buck repeats, mostly to himself. He squeezes his eyes shut and buries his hands in his hair.

This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This isn’t —

When he opens his eyes, there’s nothing. Quite literally, nothing. All Buck can see is black. He takes a step forward, almost expecting the ground to ripple beneath him. It doesn’t.

He starts running. He doesn’t know if he’s running away from something or towards something, but either way, he’s running. Normally, he’d run until he was out of breath. That doesn’t seem to happen, though, so he just keeps putting one foot in front of the other.

“You figured it out,” a voice cuts into his head.

Buck spins around. There’s no one there.

“You were always too smart for your own good.”

The voice is familiar, and not in a comforting way, like the softness of an overworn hoodie. It’s more like being haunted by a ghost.

“You could’ve been happy.”

“It wasn’t real!” Buck shouts into the void.

“It could’ve been,” the voice counters. “If only you’d let it.”

You get back to the hospital later that evening. You plan on switching out with Eddie. What you don’t plan on is seeing Christopher in the waiting room.

“Buddy, what are you doing here?” You ask.

Hen shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, but he insisted on coming.”

“I need to see Buck,” Chris replies. “I have to talk to him.”

“They don’t let kids in the ICU, Chris,” you say softly.

“I don’t care!”

You sigh, running a hand down your face.

“...Maybe we can find a workaround,” Hen offers.

By some miracle, Hen distracts the nurse long enough for you to sneak Christopher into Buck’s room. Eddie’s eyes widen as he stands up, approaching you both.

“I couldn’t say no,” you say weakly with a shrug.

You both watch as Christopher takes a few steps forward, looking at all the devices.

“Is he sleeping?” He asks.

“Something like that,” Eddie responds, voice thick.

“He’s resting, so the machines can do all the work to make him feel better,” you explain.

Chris nods. “Can he hear me?”

You look over at Eddie, who’s wiping away a few tears.

“I bet he can,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to stay level.

“Hey, Buck. It’s Christopher. I know you’re sick, but it’s only temporary. You’re going to be okay,” Chris says, reaching out to touch Buck’s arm. “Wherever you are, you have to come back.”

Wherever you are right now, you have to come back.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” Buck says. He doesn’t know if he’s talking to the voice or to himself.

“You can’t go back,” the voice says. “It’s too late.”

“I’m running out of time,” Buck says quietly.

He catches something in the corner of his eye. He turns around to face a mirror. It has to be a mirror — he’s staring at himself.

“You’re dying,” the voice says. Only, it isn’t a voice; it’s his reflection. “Turns out, your parents were right: you aren’t invincible. Weren’t, I guess.”

“This isn’t how it ends,” Buck argues weakly. “I have a family out there.”

“What, your parents?” His reflection scoffs. “The people so caught up in grieving their son that they forgot they still had one left? Or your sister, who’s so busy with her own kid that she won’t even notice you’re gone?”

Buck doesn’t like this version of himself. It’s probably who he’d become had he never joined the 118. It isn’t even Buck… it’s Evan.

“My family,” Buck argues. “My partners. My son. My daughter.”

“It’s sad she’ll never get to meet you,” Evan says, tilting his head. “It’s probably easier that way, though. The other three… that one’s gonna hurt.”

In a mere twelve hours, Buck turns a corner. The ECMO is already titrated down to a level that could warrant decannulation. They discontinued the paralytic and are currently running a spontaneous breathing trial, which involves Buck doing all the work of breathing. He’s an hour in and doing great.

You sit in an armchair beside his bed, picking at a sandwich Eddie got you from the cafeteria. You feel Eddie set his hands on your shoulders.

“You have to eat something, mi amor,” He murmurs as he kneads your neck muscles.

You let out a sigh, setting the sandwich aside and leaning into his touch. Then, you hiss out a breath and grab your stomach involuntarily.

Eddie’s hands stall. “Is that a contraction?”

You close your eyes as you focus on your breathing. You feel Eddie brush past your arm, and when you open your eyes, he’s kneeling in front of you.

“Don’t worry, they’re still 15 minutes apart.”

“...You’ve been having them regularly?!”

“15 minutes means I’m still in latent labor, not active.”

“You’re in labor, ” Eddie parrots, standing back up.

“Yeah, and I’m not having her until we know Buck is okay,” you say definitively.

Eddie runs his hands down his face. “How long have you been in labor?”

“...15 hours, I think.”

Eddie’s eyes widen.

“People can be in latent labor for days , Eddie,” you argue. “Besides, I checked myself earlier, and I’m only like, three centimeters dilated.”

“You…” Eddie cuts himself off with a heavy sigh.

“This is not a big deal!”

“How is this not a big deal?!”

“Because I’m not having her until Buck is okay,” you repeat.

It doesn’t make sense. The rational part of your brain knows that. However, the rational part of your brain is taking a hiatus. In its place is an irrational, scared shitless pregnant woman running rampant with hormones. You simply cannot fathom Buck not being there for his daughter’s birth. And so, you don’t.

“Babe…” Eddie says, exasperated.

“What?” you say, standing up. “We probably have days before we need to worry about this. Lets focus on Buck for now.”

Eddie’s eyes trail from your face down to your legs. “Babe.”

“What?” you huff.

“Your water just broke.”

You look down. Your pants are stained with an obvious wet spot, and you can feel something cold trickling down your leg.

“...Fuck.”

Warnings: mild depictions of early child labor/childbirth

[hamletthedane]

Ah yes the “Doctor Whos” Better known as:

1. Grandpa’s TikTok Prank Channel

2. University physics professor who starts drama at the faculty meetings purely out of boredom

3. Basically, if Bea Arthur was a space alien (much beloved)

4. Exclusively the parts of Hamlet where Hamlet fucks with Polonius

5. If E.M. Forster was a super chill dorm RA who sold you weed and also REALLY wanted you to join his quantum physics department’s ultimate frisbee league

6. Law student

7. The fun dad at the church BBQ who is secretly embezzling funds from the Cheesecake Factory

8. Local Victorian dandy accidentally put his car keys in the fridge bc he was distractedly reading the Wikipedia article for bees

9. Barbieheimer back-to-back screening

10. Law student 2.0 but now he has ADHD (+ his college girlfriend broke up with him)

11. Your friend’s older brother who is super fun and runs an awesome D&D campaign but comes home a lot bc he doesn’t have many friends in college :(

12. A five hour lecture on Shakespeare’s histories that is somehow vaguely entertaining

13. Not to be a lesbian but oooooh my god oh my god ohhhh-

[+ War Doc: I challenge Steven Moffat to a fist fight behind a Waffle House at 2am]

[danieyells]

care to spoil any interesting dialogue Haku has when you reach higher affinity levels? Would love to know!

Haku's so. . .normal, it's kinda cute? Lol. But yeah I'm pretty down for that! I wanted to share one of these things but held my tongue lolol but since you're asking here're some of the ones that were more interesting or otherwise appealing to me!

I've amended this post to be all of Haku's home screen lines. Enjoy!

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Oh, finally here, huh? I'm not really ready for you yet though... Ha ha. Wait over there for me, would you?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Oh, looks like you've got a letter. If you don't open it soon, I might sneak a peek."

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"How's the search for clues about your curse going? Don't put too much pressure on yourself. If you ever want to talk, I'm happy to listen."

"Most people in Hotarubi have something they put their heart and soul into. That doesn't really work for me though. I lose interest in things way too easily."

"What are you doing here? Don't tell me you've gotten yourself mixed up in something again."

this is a very funny one to have him say when i use the sinostra casino as my home screen bg

"Haha. Don't expect too much from me. Ghouls are just glorified street magicians, really. Let's keep it light, huh?"

'glorified street magicians' is a hell of a way to describe. . .a lot of the stigmas we've got going here lmao

"Boo! Ha ha, didn't think you'd get that scared. I was just getting rid of the shadow imp that was sticking to your back... I'm kidding! There was nothing there, I promise."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"...So, how about we take a walk? This dorm's seen better days, so it's tough work checking all the places that need repairs."

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You've adjusted to life at Darkwick pretty well, haven't you? Not that anomalies and missions are something you'd want to get used to..."

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Today doesn't really work for me... I'm going to be getting back to the dorm pretty late, so can we do tomorrow instead?"

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"...Hate to be the one to tell you this, but there's something untoward lingering behind you. Don't look! Hah, I was just kidding. It was just a little dust, see?"

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Twilight has been a lot quieter than usual today... I hope that's not a bad sign."

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Subaru's just too nice. Keeping all the eccentrics in Hotarubi in check's gotta be rough."

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Everyone here comes from different backgrounds and has different gifts. There's no reason you should feel out of place."

'we're all unique, including the most ordinary among us.' good lesson!

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Looks we're going to make it through today without any disasters. At least I hope so."

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What are you doing out here? You shouldn't walk around at night with your guard down. Don't come crying to me if you get possessed by a fox spirit, you hear?"

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Your parents ever tell you ghosts would get you if you don't go to bed? For some reason Zenji's the only one who gets spooked when I say that..."

after the reveal that zenji is a ghost this is so funny actually I LOVE THAT ZENJI IS A GHOST WHO'S AFRAID OF GHOSTS AND THE DARK.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"All these geniuses and their lectures are giving me heartburn. Wouldn't mind hearing the woes of someone long-suffering instead every once in a while."

(this sounds cruel but from what i can tell in Japanese he says he'd rather hear stories about hard workers/people who struggled from the bottom than prodigies. Basically he's more interested in, y'know, ordinary folks than people who're really special.)

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"That video I took of Zenji today? I'm just going to do some quick editing and post it. I don't know why he doesn't just focus on content that's more his style..."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I saw Tohma a little while ago. Been a while since we last had a real chat. Sounds like he's got his hands full, as always."

so i initially left this one out of this post because i didn't think much of it but. . .the way Haku regards Tohma is so much more casual than Tohma regards Haku in retrospect, it seems. To Haku, Tohma's just the usual hard worker. Someone he'd actually enjoy having a conversation with. But Tohma speaks to Haku almost as if with suspicion or disdain. . .then again he speaks kind of coldly to Jin too. Maybe that's just how he is with people he kind of knows or views as more on his level. Or it's something more sinister. Who knows.

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"Mornin'. You've got a sleep mark on your face. Yeah, right there. Good to know you got a good night's rest."

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"You haven't collected all the papers that were supposed to be submitted by today's deadline yet? Who are you waiting on? Got it. I'll go get them for you."

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I don't mean to scare you, but... be careful with your right leg. Especially when you're in the main building."

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Getting cold feet when you try to jump into the deep end is just proof you're a normal human being. We're the crazy ones."

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Can't sleep? In that case, let's go for a little walk. There's actually something I want to talk to you about."

pretty high affinity to be having chats on night walks. . .i wonder what he wanted to talk about.

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Just having someone you care about at your side is all you really need... Ha ha. That was a little out of character, huh? My bad."

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Oh, you're awake. I was just about to make some tea to wake myself up. Want some?"

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"It's not very often I get to kick back like this in the middle of the day. Maybe I'll take a nap."

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"None of us wanted to become like this. Living an ordinary life, and dying an ordinary death— why go after more than that?"

He just wants to be normal. And he can't. It's kinda tragic lol

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"(Yawn) Oh, didn't see you there. Haha... Guess I've been letting my sleep debt build up. I'm going to bed."

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Being cursed really sucks, huh? You can't help but ask yourself, "Why me?" all the time, even when you know it's a question with no answer."

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"I know I'm being selfish— but sometimes, I wish you'd just forget about me..."

WHY. . .ARE YOU THE SUS ONE AND YOU FEEL BAD THAT YOU'LL BETRAY THEM? DO YOU JUST FEEL LIKE YOU'RE TOO LUCKY HAVING HAD FALLEN FOR SOMEONE NORMAL WHEN YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT NORMAL ANYMORE? DO YOU FEEL LIKE THE PC DESERVES SOMEONE NORMAL AND TO BE ABLE TO GO BACK TO A NORMAL LIFE BUT BEING WITH YOU GUARANTEES THEY WON'T? WHY DO YOU WANT THEM TO FORGET YOU. . .he's so interesting to me simply because of how much he tries to keep himself apart from his being a ghoul(and, y'know, seeing spirits and shit--) so he can try and just be any other guy. . .and he can't lol his surroundings, who and what he is, he can't go back to being normal! It's a charming way to have a boy next door sort of personality i think lol

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"I've been noticing more birds in the garden lately. Is that a bush warbler? A white-eye, maybe? A lot going on during spring in Hotarubi."

Boy knows his birbs.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Heading into another nice, warm afternoon. Maybe I should take a nap...? Oops, nearly forgot I promised Zenji I'd film him."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Must be nice being a ghost—no hayfever, and no hangovers. Spring really is the embodiment of human weakness."

How drunk did you get last night buddy. . . .

(between 8pm and 5am)

"My family home is pretty famous in our area for its cherry blossoms... When I was a kid, my friends and I used to go exploring through them at night."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"It's so humid... Days like this make me miss Frostheim..."

He's former Frostheim! Maybe that's why he and Tohma seem to have some history. There's also Jin's friend who left that Tohma helped to switch houses. . .but Haku was a second year then so would he have needed it?

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Today, I've got to go round and check the stalls for the festival Hotarubi is holding— wouldn't want any dangerous charlatans sneaking their way in."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Zenji's off roaming around somewhere again... People are more sensitive this time year, so I wish he'd just stay put..."

AGAIN, BEFORE WE LEARNED HE WAS A GHOST I READ THIS AND THOUGHT PEOPLE HE MEANT LIKE. . .SENSITIVE EMOTIONALLY TO NOISE AND ZENJI'S BIWA PLAYING. I DID NOT REALIZE THAT HE WAS WORRIED PEOPLE WOULD REALIZE ZENJI WAS THERE.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You're not going to wear a yukata? Eh, I just thought it'd be cute to see. That's the kind of thing guys think about, don't know what else to tell you."

It reads like he's a little disappointed the girl he's into friends with isn't gonna wear something he thinks is cute lol

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"They say fall is the season of the arts, but I'm a really mediocre flute player. I'm about as uncultured as you can get."

funny thing for an ex-frostheimer to say.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"You can hear the biwa, right? He's been going for three hours now. People are going to start getting pissed off, so I'll go tell him to stop soon."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Nightfall can catch you unaware this time of year. It'll be dark soon, so let me know when you're planning to head home. I'll walk you back to the cathedral."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"It's a stunner of a night. Maybe I'll grab a drink and do a little moon gazing."

don't drink too much you're trying to quit smoking, the solution isn't to replace it with another addiction--

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"You'll catch a cold dressed like that. It's already pretty chilly out there, you know... Here, take my coat."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Winter rain really chills you to the bone. Sorry, walking through the garden must be rough for you this time of year. Come a little closer."

I'm a bit of a sucker for huddling together in the cold lol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"It's cold again today. Now that I think of it, Subaru said he wanted to make hotpot with everyone. Guess I'll go grab some things and make it happen."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Your hands hurt because of the cold? Let me see. Oh yeah, your fingertips are all red. Here, stick them in my pockets."

Is that your flute in your pocket or are you completely unaffected by the cold

His birthday: (July 26th)

"Wait, you got me a birthday present? You're so conscientious. Oh, I didn't mean it in a bad way. Thanks, I appreciate it."

Your birthday:

"Hey, come over here a sec. Here. It's nothing special, but I got you a something. Today's your birthday, right?"

why is this worded like he's asking you to come into a shady alley in secret to give you a birthday gift lmao

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. I know it's a cliché, but I hope this year's a good one for you."

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Whoa, chocolate? I didn't think you'd give them to me too. Guess I better think of something good to get you in return."

White Day: (March 14th)

"Here, for the chocolate you got me last month. I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I got the ones I remember you said were good."

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"A bunch of spirits have been following you around all day, are you okay? Psych, just kidding. Seriously, I was joking, I swear."

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Looks like you've had your fair share of tricks today. I'll narrow down your options and just make it a treat, then."

Christmas: (December 25th)

"You look like you're having fun. Do you have a present for me, Little Miss Santa? Haha, I'm just kidding. Here you go. Merry Christmas."

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...Hey, you alive? Not much point me just standing here waiting around. Guess I'll take off."

(13 affinity and above)

"I know I look like a slacker, but I do have stuff to do. Guess I'll nap till she gets back."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"Hey there, stranger. Everyone's missed you, you know. ...Even I was starting to get a little worried."

Those're the ones that're most interesting to me I think! 'u' there are some that aren't up there though, like some of the ones that show him being responsible and worrying about his teammates haha. Hope you don't mind my little commentary here and there!

A while later and I've amended this post to include all of the home screen voicelines, not just the ones that appealed to me most in that moment! Haku's interesting in how. . .normal he is. Aside from the seeing spirits and things anyway lmao. He's just a casual flirt who wants to escape the abnormality that his becoming a ghoul got him. I feel like his lines don't really reveal anything about him. . .but also 19 in particular feels. . .a little lonely? Maybe because of how he had to leave Frostheim, he doesn't really feel as connected to the Hotarubi ghouls yet, compared to how he was with Jin before? Or, if he is the spy, he feels like all of his relationships are fake. . .and man that 'I wish you'd just forget about me' line is sad but also SO SUSPICIOUS. WHO SAYS THAT IF THEY DON'T PLAN ON LEAVING YOU OR STABBING YOU IN THE BACK.

[perlen-gold]

(For some reasons I can't see my own reblog so here's a repost)

Just an ordinary day (angbang style)

POV: You're Melkor and you're AWESOME!

8 am: Get up.

8:10 am: Wreck the bedroom a little cause you haven't wrecked something in at least 6 hours.

8:30 am: Put sugar into Mairon's blacker-than-black coffe when he's not looking.

8:40 am: Don't listen to the report about who of your prisoners in the dungeons is still alive.

8:45 am: Listen to Mairon spitting hotter-than-boiling coffee at some poor orc and cackle.

9 am: Go to war council. Get bored quickly.

10 am: Get lectured by Mairon for falling asleep on the battle plan.

11 am: Go inspect your fortress.

11:10 am: Get bored quickly. Raise a volcano. Volcanos are fun.

11:30 am: Get lectured by Mairon for destroying half of Angband fortress.

12 pm: Lunch time. Capture some poor elves, then tell their relatives you've eaten them while they're really imprisoned in your dungeons awaiting future torture.

1 pm: Join Mairon in the forge and watch him a little. Get bored quickly cause all he's working on is a dull ring and nothing shiny.

1:20 pm: Get thrown out of the forge for hiding Mairon's forging tools.

1:30 pm: WHIP CLASS time: Teach the balrogs how to use a whip of fire like a lasso to catch wizards with it. Then get bored quickly again.

2 pm: Leave it to Gothmog to comfort the young balrog whose whip you smashed to pieces.

2:30 pm: Write prank letters to Manwë

3 pm: Write another letter to Yavanna, telling her all about the plants you've poisoned last week.

4 pm: Feed the dragons.

4:40 pm: Get lectured by Mairon for feeding the best archers in the army to the dragons.

5 pm: Think of some other terrible creature, start creating them and then leave the rest of the design to Mairon cause you got bored quickly.

5:15 pm: Get lectured by Mairon for setting lose a half-formed monster eating all the best sword-trained orcs.

5:30 pm: Send a self portrait showing yourself wearing the gleaming silmarills in your crown to Ungoliant and spray it with insectifuge.

6 pm: Tell Mairon he's beautiful in the most inaproppiate moment when he's giving a speech to your generals.

6:15 pm: Get shouted at by Mairon for being an absolute asshole.

6:20 pm: Start a huge argument just for the fun of it.

6:25 pm: Start making out heavily just when Mairon's about to desert you. Kiss him hard and kiss him good.

6:30 pm: Oh yes, you know, what your little flame needs.

6:45 pm: Stop just before things get really hot simply to annoy Mairon a little more.

7 pm: Fuck Mairon really hard on the war table cause damn, that little wicked thing knows your weakness (it's Mairon.)

7:30 pm: Call it "making sweet love" just to have Mairon at your throat again.

7:35 pm: Enjoy another round, breaking the war table for good this time.

9 pm: Hide behind a rock and watch Mairon taking a lava bath. Pelt unmelting chunks of ice at him. Listen to him cursing you.

10 pm: Take a night time stroll. Find some lost elves and tell them a bunch of lies about the other Valar.

12 pm: Time for a nightcap. Read Mairon's diary.

1 am: Go to bed.

1:01 am: Watch Mairon sleep (if he wakes, lie and tell him his snores were loud enough to reach Utumno.)

2 am: Go to sleep. Look forward to the next day cause you're Melkor and you're AWESOME.