#can you tell which one I used a reference image for

[front-facing-pokemon]

[all-my-ocs-are-evil]

Grojband, but as a band from an early 2000s shoujo manga

[eupheme]

— trouble will find me

[part ii | masterlist]

bodyguard!logan x mobster’s daughter!reader

rated e - 3k

tags: 70s era, dofp/bonedaddy!logan, bodyguard!logan, reader is the daughter of a mobster, reader is shorter than Logan, club setting, use of alcohol, cigar smoking, mutual pining, flirting, light brat taming!logan, references to violence, competence kink, semi-public vaginal fingering, kissing, forbidden relationship

a/n: I can’t stop thinking about dofp!logan sleeping with the girl he’s guarding, this is inspired by that scene! huge thank you to @pr0ximamidnight who let me chit chat about this little idea. you are amazing! 💖💕

His eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip, “‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You hum, “But what if I want a little in me?”

You can feel his eyes follow you.

Which shouldn’t really be surprising. It's his job, of course. Keep an eye on you, keep you safe.

But there’s something in the way he watches.

A curl of smoke from a lit cigar. Fingers tracing the rim of a half-downed whisky, a worn leather jacket thrown over a broad shoulder. The tilt of his chin when your eyes meet his - dark and narrowed, missing nothing. Slipping over you like the soft silk of your dress.

Indulging, almost. Unashamed.

You might have a crush.

You're trying not to think about it too much.

Tonight, you're just trying to enjoy the after-party.

It's all bright lights.

The room is bathed in pinks and yellows and flashing red. Disco club music pumped through the speakers, the panels of the floor flickering to the beat. You've been here for two hours already. Nursing tequila sunrises and pink squirrels. Sweat sticking to the nape of your neck, as the minutes tick by, bleeding past midnight.

He's not going to stop you, just yet. You can have your fun tonight - sway to the beat of the music - as long as you play by the rules.

Logan is so different from the ones before him.

Tripping over their feet to check on you. Breathing down your neck, with their padded-shoulder suits smelling like cigarettes and cheap cologne. Too afraid for themselves, of your father, to actually do a good job of protecting you.

Stifling and all too willing to tell you yes to anything.

It was exhausting.

Logan had come recommended - an acquaintance of a friend. He'd 'get the job done' from what you heard. Motivated. Needed the cash and would listen, no questions asked.

Just the type your father thought he could sway - a half-wild guard dog, his salary a leash. Heeling at the click of a tongue, the snap of fingers.

It's not how you saw him, though.

His silence was not obedience. There was nothing bought about this man - watching you from the line of leather booths along the wall.

You've wondered if maybe - you're just desperate to find some form of kindred spirit in someone. Too used to feeling like an accessory instead of a person. Your appearance at your father's events drove home his image. The good, family man who was oh so generous with his time and money.

Articles were written weekly about how philanthropic he was.

You had no idea if anything ever came from the numerous events you hosted - an attempt at doing something with your education. How much was skimmed off your blood, sweat, and tears, funneled back into what he did best.

Maybe you both saw through the bullshit.

He'll last longer than the others, at least.

More than once you've been halfway out the door, headed off to East Village or SoHo, only for him to catch you by the scruff of your sweater - whisking you back inside or into the Lincoln Town Car before you realized what happened.

An angry fist connecting with the nose of a man who had gotten too close at a gala last week. Cornering you in the coat room. Logan, charging in like a snarling beast when you had whimpered his name - red dripping down to stain the pressed white collar as the man was hauled away.

You’ve been thinking about that for days.

There was no sucking up. No flashing of a holster under his arm, some grandiose promise that you don't need to worry. You've never even seen Logan near a weapon but somehow, you feel more safe with him than you ever have with anyone else.

But this bit of internal tenderness that has sprouted, paired with his competency, has been seriously cramping your style.

It’s been enough that he's been hard to get out of your mind. Two weeks of teasing and poking at the limits set. Never giving you much, with that glare - thick arms crossed over his chest. A little thrill rippling up your spine, when his voice goes low and gruff.

The lights go dim, as the music begins to slow.

With the way your eyes wander, you know he sees you when you pick up a partner.

A man that moves with you, peeling off to crowd your space after your hips swivel with the hustle. His hand dipping low from where it rests on the small of your back.

Bold, when he bends to ask you 'if you'd like to get out of there'.

You meet Logan's eyes when you tell him yes.

Telling yourself that it's just to forget him. Definitely not because you're desperate to see the look on his face. To hear that tone he takes when he's pissed off.

A way to ascertain if you've taken root in his mind, even for just a moment.

There's zero chance Logan heard you from across the room. But it doesn't stop him from moving. Pushing to his feet, cutting straight through the crowd to wrap a hand around your bicep the second you start peeling off with the stranger - heading towards the side door.

"No fucking chance." It's gritted out, as he yanks you to him. Your shoulder collides against his chest as he steps between you and the man.

A sloppy hand pushes against his arm. The man's eyes are hazy under the neon lights as he makes a grab for you.

"Come on, man. I saw her first."

Logan pivots you away with a snarl, "She ain't leaving with you, bub."

Another sloppy shove, glancing off the brown leather jacket.

"You're really starting to piss me off." Logan's tone drips with warning, with knowing, "Gonna regret starting something in a room full of people like this."

And it's now that he takes in how big Logan is. The flex of splayed-wide fingers, knuckles curling into a clenched fist. A look in his eye that says that punches won't be pulled - not tonight.

The stranger takes a step back. It's enough.

You're already getting hauled away before they can answer. Guided into one of the many VIP rooms. A snarled "get the fuck out of here" to the attendant, before Logan's crowding you against the bar - hands bracing on his hips.

Fuming, you push yourself up to sit on the top - an attempt to get closer to his height.

"What was that about?" Your chin lifts, as your arms cross.

His eyes flash - a curl of his lip, "Can't you make my job easy, kid?"

Kid. It always makes you bristle. So far from that, and it's the way he says it. That dripping edge, like he knows something you don't.

"Maybe he was a friend." You deadpan.

"Yeah. Real friendly," He scoffs, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose, "You think your daddy is gonna like you going home with a piece of shit like that?"

That makes your teeth clench - a glare sent his way, "I don't think it's any of your business."

"It's literally my business, sweetheart." Logan huffs. His hands curl around the edge of the bar, braced on either side of your knees.

Your breathing hitches, for just a second. The soft name is ground out between his teeth, but it still shoots straight to your pussy.

You haven't been this close to him before. Enough to see the bleed of brown to green in his hazel eyes. The sharp mark between his brows that you want to press your thumb against.

The shorn-down hair at his chin, before it grows thick across his cheeks. Handsome in a way that makes you ache, your fingers curling into fists to keep from touching him.

There's been moments alone - car rides, lounging in the armchair in the corner of your room when he barks at you to hurry up.

But it hasn't been like this.

Maybe it's the opportunity. Maybe it's the amber glitter of tequila in your veins, but you let your palms press against the shining wood. Your knees inch a little further apart, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs.  

"That the only reason you whisked me away?” Your eyebrow lifts, "Kidnapping, if I recall, is one of the things you're supposed to be keeping me safe from."

"You are safe." He deflects, "'s not kidnapping when it's me.”

Those eyes are still on yours. Not dropping to where his hips nearly press against the edge of the bar top.

You break the eye contact first.

“Well, it’s fine.” You sniff - as if his actions had been your idea, “I didn’t want him anyways.”

Logan grunts. There’s the slightest brush - the flex of his thumb at your thigh, where your dress rides up. A long look before he’s pushing back to step away, but your fingers reach out, catching on his white shirt.

“Are you going to ask me what I do want?”

There’s the slightest twitch of his nose. Lips parting to show the peek of a tongue, caught between teeth. The briefest dip of his eyes. Down to the shadow between your breasts, pressed together as you lean forward to catch him.

“I know what you want, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Not gonna happen.”

The rejection stings, and you pout, “What isn’t?”

A sigh, and he’s stepping back into your space. Your hand flattens against his stomach, hard muscles beneath as his head tilts.

“You want a man to take you home. Treat you nice.” Logan’s eyes burn into you. Wide hands curving around your knees, thumbs pressing into flesh, “I’m not that guy.”

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. How it thunders to the beat of the music muted outside this room. Dropping down to pulse between your thighs.

Wondering if he’s thought about you, the way you have him. How he could both see and miss so much at once.

“You’re wrong,” Your head shakes, “I don’t want that.”

A breath, before you’re confessing, ”I want you.”

Logan's eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip.

“‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You echo, “But what if I want a little trouble in me?”

The smile you give him is sweet, a tilt of your head as he catches your hand. Thick fingers curl at your wrist, holding your hand in place. A thumb pressed up against your pulse.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.” He rasps, voice low.

You’re undeterred.

“Could get on my knees.” You coo, “You could show me. Would you like that?”

Logan’s jaw grits. His grip loosens just long enough to feel your wrist flex - before he guides your hands, pressing your palms flat against the polished wood.

“It’s not going like that,” He husks. The tone is the same as when he’s ordering you around, one that makes your back go straight, “Those are staying right there. Got that, honey?”

All you can do is nod, as his hands skate up your thighs. Fingers massaging into flesh, soft and smooth as he eases them wider apart. Fitting himself closer between them.

The way he looks at you now is the way he did before.

Focused, as your dress inches higher. The fabric pooling at your hips as they tilt toward him, the pretty lace between your thighs now on display.

“Look at you,” His tongue clucks. A finger tracing the elastic edge, as you clench in anticipation, “Need this, don’t you?”

Drifting across, a thumb pressing against the fabric. It sends a jolt through you, your fingers almost reaching for him before you remember.

“Good girl.” He muses, as your hands flatten again.

The slightest pressure as the pad of his thumb slips up. Nudging against your clothed clit, as you inhale a sharp breath.

Pressing, and circling. It’s agonizingly slow, his eyes flicking up to watch the way you bite back a whimper. Your hips flexing into his touch, aching for more.

It lifts, so he can see how the fabric has dampened. Clinging to your skin, his knuckle tracing your seam.

“Making a mess.”

You can only whine in reply. Afraid that he’ll stop if you make too much noise. If you move - he’s made it clear he’s in charge here, and for once you’re willing to follow.

The pad of his thumb pulling back, a faint shine in the neon-bathed room.

“That for me?”

Your head nods, “Logan, please-”

There’s a sharp flash of teeth. Fingers pressing low, fitting against you, “You want me here?”

“Yes.”

You need him. Need anything he’ll give you, the sharp pinch in your palms where your nails bite into flesh.

“Ask me.” He coos.

“Please put use your fingers,” It comes in a rush, “Want you in me-”

Logan smirks, as his fingers slip beneath the waistband. Air sucked through clenched teeth when he meets slick, soaked skin. A teasing swirl against your clit before he’s parting you.

The tip of his middle finger tracing your hole, before it dips inside. His hips flex against the wooden edge, when you clench around him immediately. Trying to draw him deeper, as he works himself further in.

His fingers are much thicker than yours. A second already tracing where he opens you up. Teasing the tip in as his hand flexes, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit.

Your head tips forward. Each breath growing shorter, as you’re stretched around him. That slight ache unfurling into pleasure. Panting, as the pump of his fingers grow louder - the muffled cadence of skin against skin each time his palm collides with your cunt.

The fabric strains against his hand, his knuckles pressed against the soaked fabric.

Something bright burns in your belly, as your knees press into his hips. It makes you break the rules - a hand grasping at his arm. Anchoring yourself with your grip.

“I wanna watch. Let me see you.”

He lets you. A tap against your hip so you can lift. Carefully pulling your underwear down, easing them over the heels of your boots.

The lace disappears into his jacket pocket. His palms against your inner thighs, spreading you open. A throaty groan when he sees you, one that he can't quite manage to bite back - the rough sound shooting straight through you.

You both watch, when his fingers fit inside you this time. Two sinking down to the knuckle, slick and shining.

Unable to bite back the moan this time, though he does not shush you. His eyes fixed on your face instead, watching how your brow pinches when his fingers crook deep inside you. Searching.

The way you go jolt and then go tense when he finds it, a soft cry loosening.

“You been fucked like this before?” Logan growls, his fingers dragging against that soft spot inside you with his emphasis.

Your head shakes, when he does it again. Eyes dropping to watch his how hand looks, how you wrap around his fingers. The slick shine as they pump a little faster.

His other hand taps against your thigh.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“No,” It comes out hushed. Needy. “Never.”

His lips part with his groan, baring his teeth. With the way he touches you - his thumb moving to rub circles against your clit - it’s not long before he has you close.

A swiftly building pressure in your belly. That space between you eases as your knees close around his hips. His head tilting until his nose ghosts against your cheek.

Breath hot against your neck, as he inhales you. The slightest scrape of teeth that makes you bear down on his fingers - so careful not to leave a mark behind.

“Logan,” You pant. “That feels, ah, I think I’m gonna come-”

He groans against your skin, keeping the same pace. Feeling how you forget yourself - grasping at him, arching into his touch. Your muscles going tight as your breath grows short - panting.

“Give it to me,” Logan growls, “Come on my fucking fingers, baby.”

It’s impossible not to listen. You come, with his thumb pressing against your clit. His fingers notched deep inside you, as he feels your pulse racing beneath his lips.

The moan that rips from you pitches up, and then goes silent.

It leaves you breathless. Deep waves throbbing inside you, as you dampen his palm. Washing over and pulling you under, as your vision darkens.

“That’s fucking it. Come on, honey.” He coos, “Just look at you, so fucking pretty.”

The pump of his fingers goes still, the tips still crooking, as the tight pulses wane. The air comes rushing back into your lungs as you come back to yourself, your hands fisted in his jacket.

His chest heaves. Eyes hungry, when he slips from you. Slick clinging to them, webbing between his fingers as he pulls them up to the light.

Before he’s focusing on you again, his other hand thumbing at your lip.

“Open.”

They part automatically. Closing around the fingers he feeds you. The salt of his skin pairing with the sweet tang of your release, too blissed out to do anything but suck them clean.

“Good girl.”

It’s soft, as his fingers press down. Spreading, until you’ve cleaned yourself from them. Only when they slip from you, does his head dip.

A soft sound as his mouth presses against yours. There’s the sweep of his tongue against your lip, needy and insistent. You part for him, swallowing the moan as he tastes you. Teeth and tongue - deepening the kiss as his hands grip at your waist.

Letting your hands grasp at his shoulders. Tug at his hair until you’re pulled flush against him, your tits crushed against his chest.

Hungry, threatening to devour you, until you mumble his name.

Bringing him back to himself. Sharing a breath, Logan’s forehead pressed to yours when he pulls back. Those spit-slick fingers dropping down.

Palming himself roughly, where his cock strains - thick and hard against his jeans. A bitten-back groan, the word “fuck” rumbling deep in his chest as his hips flex into his hand.

“You going to listen now? Get that out of your system?” It comes out ragged, and you’re nodding.

All your sharp edges smoothed down. Blissfully complacent, as his fingers get a better grip on your waist. Bringing you down to the floor with wobbly legs, his hand coming to grasp at your upper arm.

“Good.” He growls, “Come on.”

A sharp tug, and you almost trip over yourself to follow.

“I’m taking you home.”

ahh I had the idea for this and had to jot it down! and I do know he goes by james/jimmy in the 70s because it’s pre-weapon-x, but I'll be keeping it as logan for this. (And I am thinking this will be a two-shot - give her a chance to get what she wants 😏💖)

[maniculum]

Medieval Scorpions Effortpost

So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:

The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".

Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.

As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".

Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.

See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:

That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?

So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.

And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.

*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.

Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.

And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.

11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)

12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)

12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)

12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)

13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)

13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)

13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)

13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)

13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)

13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)

13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)

13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)

14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)

14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)

14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)

15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)

I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.

[monicahar]

“my wife.”

how they address you. why does it make your heart skip a beat each time?

characters; neuvillette, wriothesley

—female pronouns obvi, aaaa this is so random😭 fluff, tad bit of crack, has suggestive themes/dirty jokes cause that's my humor in general, just tryna get into writing again heehaa don't mind me ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ

NEUVILETTE always accompanies the term with unmatched affection. it rolls off his tongue perfectly like a match made in heaven, coupled with the serene image of you instantaneously appearing in his mind before he even thinks of the uttering the endearing term. he still finds it surreal that you are both even lawfully married, yet the way he calls you his wife is already on instinct. is it too presumptuous of him?

well, in the end, he can't find any means to worry about it when you seem to equally adore the nickname.

“ooohh, say it again, say it again!”

he can't tell whether he married a child or not, but he still obliges your request and calls you his wife affectionately once more.

meanwhile, furina nearly gags everytime she hears him say it so softly—like using any other tone when referring to you would land him in the hands of the fortress of meropide. sure—she might've been the one who set up both of you—but the drama and thrill akin to watching a romance film has delightfully ended, and she can only meddle so much in marital matters. the iudex just might actually have her head in a platter if she were to do anything mischievous at that point.

but while a happy neuvillette is running around announcing 'my wife' this and 'my wife' that, you are currently stuck on what to call him in return, sadly enough.

“at this point, i think i'm just going to call you daddy.”

it was unfortunate with the way he choked on some of the water he was drinking—well, thank goodness he didn't spill much as before. for this wasn't the first time you said something unprompted while he was in peace with his water—he can only internally sigh.

“and what exactly has influenced you to arrive at such a conclusion, my wife?” he does not miss the tiny shudder of your body that followed the endearment. your face burns a tad bit at that, and he softly chuckles.

“your effect on me is no joke, you know?” you pout at his amused smile, “the way you refer to me so sweetly makes me want to call you my dearest husband everytime.”

“i don't recall voicing any complaints. is something else holding you back from doing so?”

you nod solemnly in agreement at that, which prompts him to raise a brow in mild curiousity.

“thing is, i really like calling you by your first name. same with monsieur neuvilette. there's something mildly erotic within it—you get what i mean, hehehe...” he only stares at you, clearly unimpressed, and a bit concerned at the implication. you clear your throat, apologizing under your breath.

“still—it's such a devastating predicament to be unable to choose between the three.” you sigh defeatedly, moving to slump your entire weight on his lap. you mutter, “my dearest husband monsieur neuvillette...mmm, no, that's too long.”

chuckling at your dramatic antics, he plants a soothing hand on your waist, the other fixing your wrinkled clothing as you practically melt against his hold. “and you thought settling on daddy was the appropriate option?”

“i'm not hearing any objections.” you jest, feeling cheeky.

“please refrain from calling me such a thing in the eyes of the public atleast.”

“...huh? you're actually allowing it??”

WRIOTHESLEY on the other hand, says it as if he's flaunting. it leaves his lips like a taunt each time, indirectly telling the other party 'i have a hot wife and you dont' even though most of the time the people he mentions you to don't even know what you actually look like. it's silly, childish even, but you still love it nonetheless.

sigewinne and the other inmates have collectively told you that ever since you got married, he has never uttered your actual name to anyone else. some find it weird, some find it somehow disrespectful, and some are now convinced he's crazily obsessed with you, and now he's showing it off every chance he gets, much to everyone's dismay.

it's arrived to the point where a small percentage of people have actually forgotten about your name, and now refer to you as the duke's wife, or even duchess, to which you made a face at. that's kind of pushing it by then.

anywho, in the end, it's funny and endearing, maybe even makes you a bit giddy, but there is no way you're telling him that. the situation might escalate even more if possible.

“you know, my wife is very mean to me today.”

as a pair of strong yet gentle arms wrap around your waist, you resist the growing smile on your face, deciding to mess with your husband for a bit.

“is that so?” you continue your chores without a care in the world. he huffs.

“mhm. she won't look me in the eye the whole day, even though she seemed sooo happy last night.” face instantly burning, you hiss as you slap his arm in a fit of embarrassment, pulling a hearty chuckle from the man behind you.

“—and now she's hitting me as well. i can't believe this.” you both know very well he was not fazed in the slightest bit.

“if her husband wasn't such a pervert then maybe—”

his facade cracks as he forces out an awkward laugh, “hey now, baby, you know i'm nothing like that.”

“wriothesley.”

he clears his throat awkwardly, “okay, maybe a little. it's exclusive for you though! my wife doesn't have to be so mean about it, you're making me reallyyy sad here, y'know?”

there it is again, you think. that nickname. that damned word that makes you want to turn around and smash your lips against his and—wait, hold yourself together! don't forget the reason you're being cold to him!

“you deserve to feel remorse. i've been struggling to even move the whole day because of you.”

you go rigid.

you didn't mean for that to come out so bitter...oh no.

“oh. so that's what this is about.” you don't even have to turn around to know that there's a smug look on his stupidly handsome face, his grip on your waist turning into soothing circles as he presses a kiss to your neck.

“if my wife wanted a massage, she could've just said so.” it's husky when it leaves his mouth, leaving you to shiver with the chills he enunciates.

flustered, you completely disregard the way your knees buckle at the endearment laced with that low voice of his, hitting his arm once more, earning a tiny 'ouch' from him.

“pervert. i want rest, not another round!”

“heh, i didn't say anything about another round, my perverted wife.”

“you—” you are abrupt cut off as you yelp in surprise when your feet are raised off the ground, your face now much closer to your husband's as he carries you gently in his arms.

“shhh, just let me take you to bed. if my wife was feeling terrible the whole day, she should've just told me in the first place so she could stay in, don't you think?”

he's right, but you're still angry. “shut up.”

“just letting you know i'm not completely at fault, wife.” you attempt to ignore the furious beating of your heart, face burning at his smug expression. “i'm not the only one who wanted it.”

hsr version...? if i feel like it...🤔🤔

[threestarsinline]

The Gala

Jason Todd x reader one-shot

Summary: It was supposed to be simple. Just accompany Jason to the party. It was also supposed to be quick. Just go in, talk to a few people, and out. But then, you find yourself meeting your boyfriend's family.

Word Count: 9.3K

Category: Fluff (established relationship) and a tiny, tiny little bit of angst

Warnings: Rich people?? Bahahsjsjs Mentions of alcohol

Author’s note: My Wayne gala fic debut (with a super original title, I know jskdks), hope you like it!

You look at yourself once again in the mirror. The truth is that you love the image that looks back at you. You feel comfortable and true to yourself, as well as beautiful. The dress that you’re wearing playing a big part in it. Your fingers slowly trace the hem of the bright red of the soft fabric.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You know that the dress probably won’t live up to the standard of the women that will be at the place but for you, it’s beautiful and elegant, making you feel like a seven year old girl wearing her favorite princess dress and giving you the confidence that you will need tonight.

Even if the style of the dress is not as chic or as sophisticated as others, you’re sure that the red will stand out. The thought increases your nerves. You don’t usually wear red but when you saw this dress you knew that you had to buy it, you could easily see yourself in it. And also, you couldn’t wait to see Jason’s reaction.

You knew that he would love it, or so you hoped. He always liked it when you wore red, or anything for that matter. No matter how you looked he always looked at you with the same silly smile and caring eyes. But there was something in wanting to see him swoon all over you. You smile thinking of him. Even if the night ends in a disaster, you both will be at each other's side.

Just as you do a little spin to see the movement of your skirt just a bit up your knees, the doorbell rings. When you open the door Jason is looking around stressfully, breathing heavily, his hands alternating on running through his hair as if trying to fix it and adjusting his tie. He doesn’t seem to notice that you have opened the door.

“Hey,” you say softly. He turns to you.

“Hi,” he says breathlessly in return, and by the way that he’s taking you in, you can tell that it isn’t for the same reason as before. You look down shyly and put a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You then take him in, and to say that you’re not ready for the full sight in front of you is an understatement. Jason was already handsome but to see him in a suit… Your insides are doing crazy things.

“Y/N, you look… incredible.”

“Thank you.” You take a small step and on your toes you give him a kiss on the cheek. “I have to say that you look great. I think that I could get used to seeing you in a suit.” He smiles warmly but suddenly he seems to come out of his daze.

“Listen, I’m so sorry I’m late and that I kept you waiting. I got caught up before and then this stupid tie wouldn’t work with me and…” You shush him softly with a kiss and then shake your head.

“Don’t worry, I just got finished too.”

He sighs in relief, and then, with a life of their own, before you can help yourself, your hands lift to fix his hair to give it his usual style but less messy, although as always, the white streak stays as rebel as ever. Your hands slide down his neck to the lapels of his jacket and then adjust his tie that was crooked to the left.

“You know how to do that?” he says, referring to the tie.

“Not really. I have just always wanted to do that. You know, like in movies and so.” You can’t help but giggle a bit while you say that.

“Well, that makes two of us.” He takes your hands and places a kiss on them. You sigh happily, the soft gesture making you melt. You’re sure that this man is going to be the death of you. The care and affection with which he always touches and looks at you was both deadly and invigorating. “Ready?”

“I think so.”

“Because if not, you know that I wouldn’t mind one bit to stay here and take a more careful look at this gorgeous dress.” His hands find your waist and after a peck on your lips, his own meet your neck.

“I know. And that’s why we have to get going, we’re already late.” You put a hand in his chest to place some distance with the temptation of his lips, that now are pouting.

“‘A queen is never late, everyone else is simply early,’” he deadpans.

A laugh threatens to escape from your throat. “You just did not.”

“What?” he says feigning innocence, but the smirk on his lips gives him away.

“You just did not quote the queen of Genovia,” you say amused.

“Okay, first, Julie Andrews is always right. And second, you were the one that showed me that masterpiece so, you should have seen it coming.” He’s grinning from ear to ear. You wish that you could always see him like this. So happy and carefree.

“Can't say that you’re not right,” you reply while hugging him, resting your head on his chest and letting his calming scent surround you.

He then takes your face in his hands and with your noses touching he whispers, “I love you.” 

Your smile at those words never faltered. “I love you too.”

When you two reach the manor Jason drives past the main gate and goes directly to the secondary one that leads to the back entrance of the manor in order to avoid all the fancy cars and limos that litter the road of the main one.

Even from outside you can tell that the party is already in full swing, the windows of the main living room that in these cases often transforms into a dance hall, the only ones with light in them and cluttered with people.

Jason parks the car but his hands do not leave the steering wheel. His grip tightens and untightens around it as he takes a deep breath and looks towards the back door of the manor. You know well how even though the manor is a home to Jason, in events like this it almost feels like a cage.

“Hey,” you whisper softly while you take his hands into yours. Immediately, Jason’s eyes leave the manor and turn towards you. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m here. And it’ll be quick, we just have to show face for a little while, just like we talked about. And then as fast as we’re in, we’ll be out,” you reassure him while softly rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs.

Jason gulps and nods, trying to will the nerves away, though his hands have stopped flexing and now lay relaxed in your grip ever since you touched them.

“Or we can leave right now. Forget all this. Spend the evening alone, just you and me. Maybe even some Batburger?” you tease with a smile, letting him know that he always has an out with you. Your calming words seem to work as a small chuckle leaves him and he lifts your hands to kiss them once again.

He shakes his head.

You tilt yours. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I just needed a moment. Besides, if I don’t go in I’ll never hear the end of it. Also, if we get this out of the way now, we won’t have to come to another one for a long while. And like you said, it’ll be quick.”

You nod and give his hands an encouraging squeeze. “Exactly. And remember, if you want to leave early, you just tell me.” 

He nods, a lot more sure of himself than just a moment ago. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go,” you echo.

Jason gets out of the car and you know better than to try and get out yourself, having learned in the very early stages of your relationship that if Jason can help it, you will never have to open a door again. And like always, your door opens and he extends a hand to help you out.

Despite the temperature dropping slightly during the night with the summer reaching its end, it’s a very nice evening. A soft breeze grazes your arms and the cut of your dress but it’s not enough to make you feel cold, mainly due to the warm hand that settles on your lower back. In the sky, the stars that would be impossible to see downtown accompany the moon in illuminating the night.

You two make your way through the gravel path that leads to the back door hand in hand, giving each other courage for the night that awaits ahead.

Once inside, it’s like entering another world entirely. Chatter and glass clinks fill the air and you’re just glad that at least this way your entrance to the party won’t make that much of a fuss as you would have done if you had used the main door.

“I was starting to think that you weren’t going to appear, Master Jason.”

At the sound of the voice both you and Jason stop dead in your tracks near the kitchen, almost like two kids getting caught trying to sneak out instead of sneaking in.

“Alfred!” Jason greets him exaggeratedly, trying to distract from the fact that you two have been caught arriving late. The British man can’t help but mirror Jason’s big smile, even as it breaks his teasing smirk. You smile as you watch them hug and then Alfred turns to you.

“Oh, and you’ve brought Miss Y/N as well! So great to see you again, dear,” he says as he also gives you a quick hug.

“You too, Alfred,” you reply with a smile. “Though it’s just Y/N, please.”

“You know I’m not going to do that, Miss Y/N.” The crinkles of the butler’s smile reminding you that trying to argue with him was a futile attempt.

You had only met him once before but that had been enough to get to know each other quite well and to already care for each other.

You had met him some weeks before, when Jason took you to the manor for the very first time one weekend as a kind of romantic getaway, as it had been left deserted and empty by Alfred and Bruce due to a business/Batman trip and Tim and Damian were away with their respective friends. It was an opportunity like no other.

It had been a wonderful long summery weekend, spent cooking together, lounging in the pool while sharing lazy kisses in the water with your arms and legs wrapped around him, his hands holding you as the sun set behind you, and watching movies in the home theater. You had never felt more at peace or relaxed.

And then, Alfred had come back a couple of days early. You and Jason had been cooking lunch (well, Jason had been cooking while you admired him perched on the counter), when Alfred entered, surprised to see anyone in the manor. After the initial surprise, friendly introductions had been made since from all of the members of his family, Alfred was the only one that Jason wasn’t wary of you meeting.

Jason could only thank whatever was out there that it had been Alfred who had come back early and not Bruce. He wasn’t ready to handle that yet.

Alfred joined you two for lunch and even though you were slightly nervous at the beginning at meeting a member of Jason’s family, you were glad that it was Alfred since he instantly made you feel welcome and at ease. Jason had watched your conversations with a small smile, glad to see and not surprised at all that you got along so well.

After lunch, Alfred left you two be to enjoy the rest of the day as well as the next day since it was your last in the manor. However, he still insisted on making you two breakfast the next day and you got to try Alfred’s famous pancakes. There was no doubt from where Jason had gotten his excellent culinary skills.

You still crossed paths with Alfred a couple more times but they hadn’t been awkward at all. During that short time of seeing you and Jason interact, Alfred saw just how happy you two made and loved each other. He could clearly see the certainty of your relationship and he couldn’t be happier for the young boy that had once been the second Robin. He totally deserved the happiness that you brought him.

And as Alfred insists on calling you Miss Y/N, with the sounds of the party drifting into the kitchen, just like he had done the first time that he met you, the same thought crosses his mind.

That the only way in which he would ever call you something other than that would be when you became Mrs. Todd. Something that he was certain would happen from the very first moment that he saw you laugh with Jason before he had made his presence known that summer afternoon. A truth as plain as the sun.

Now, seeing that the British man isn’t giving up upon your insistence on calling you just by your first name, you sigh defeatedly. “Alright.”

At that, Alfred smiles and turns back to Jason. “Your brothers will be glad to see you’ve been able to make it.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Sure.”

You smile at his antics and squeeze his hand. The thing was that at each Wayne gala, as it was to be expected, a few members of the family should be present. But considering the fact that all, literally all, the Waynes hated the galas, having Waynes at a gala had long been a recurring problem.

No one still talks about the time that at one of them, not a single Wayne had appeared. The press had had a field day with it and it took the Waynes months to repair the damage.

For a rich family in Gotham that lead a double life as vigilantes, they sure hated the appearances and masks that came with having to entertain the socialites. You have always found the fact extremely entertaining.

And so, in order to avoid the great gala disaster, as Jason had explained to you, they had come up with a system. Taking turns attending the galas and doing so in different groups as they all knew that no one, absolutely no one should have to suffer through a gala alone (except Bruce, who sometimes had to go alone, downsides of being the face of the company).

For example, a group could be Bruce, Dick and Damian (who, lucky for him, has never had to experience the torture of going to one alone, still being a kid and all), or Jason and Dick, but never just Jason and Tim alone, the two always looking to make an escape and neither of them keeping the other in check. However, if they were accompanied by someone else it was manageable. The pairings and different groupings going on and on.

But tonight, however, it was the turn for all four of the batboys to be there, Bruce out on a mission. And so here you were, having offered to accompany your boyfriend when he told you that he had to go to the gala. Jason had said that it wasn’t necessary but you could see the relief in his eyes when you assured him that you wanted to go with him, knowing how hard these things could be sometimes.

Though not liking large crowds either, you were no better. What a pair did you two make. But you knew that together, you could face this night. Now, apart from the overall challenge of enduring the night, came the very real possibility of finally meeting Jason’s brothers. It wasn’t that Jason was trying to keep you away from them or hiding you, they did know about you, it’s just that it was a delicate issue that he wanted to handle at his own time and when he was ready.

You understood that and of course never pushed him on the topic. You knew that if it were for Jason, he would scream that you two were together a hundred times a day, he had no problem holding your hand in public nor kissing you until you felt dizzy in the middle of the street.

Either way, when you two realized that you could meet them, Jason came to the conclusion that it wasn’t so bad. That way they’ll stop pestering him about meeting you and you would do it in a more relaxed ambience than what a formal dinner with all of his family, including Bruce, could be, with all of their eyes fixed on you and asking you millions of questions. At least this way, with the gala, distractions were easy to come by if a quick escape was necessary.

So, if you met them, good. If you didn’t, good as well.

Though still, the nerves persisted.

After exchanging a couple of phrases more with Alfred, he returned to his duties at the party and with your arm looped through Jason’s, you stepped into the space that had been turned into a ballroom of sorts, all of Gotham’s elite there. Either to donate to a Wayne fundraiser (sadly, the least likely of them all), invest in Wayne Enterprises (more likely), drink (very likely), or to snoop around the mysterious Wayne manor and find out more about the peculiar family (the most likely of them all).

You have to say that you're impressed with what has been done with the space. Added chandeliers and carefully placed lamps give the room a golden glow, highlighting all the luxury of the attendees, from expensive watches, to even more expensive necklaces, and making all the glasses of champagne around the room sparkle.

On one side, a bar has been set up, on the other, on a small stage, musicians play for the dancing couples on the dance floor that has been put up in the center. And scattered around the room, high tables where people place their drinks and gather for conversations.

The lack of chairs does not go unnoticed, just a couple every few tables and the stools that surround the bar. The lack no doubt made deliberately, that way, no one would settle for long, either forcing them to mingle and spend some money on the gala or directly leave. The Waynes really do not like to have people in their house. You have to stifle a laugh at the thought, you could relate to that.

Though it makes perfect sense, given that no one wants too many people on the floor above the headquarters for Gotham’s vigilantes for long. You also know that in whatever way they can, they always try to have the galas either at Wayne Tower or at any other place, but sometimes, having one at the manor once in a while was inevitable.

You can’t help but tense up as you notice more and more people start to look towards you two. You don’t even notice that your anxious nature has gotten the better of you and that your grip on Jason’s arm has tightened until his other hand covers yours, the touch immediately grounding and soothing you. You look up at him and take a deep breath as his green eyes look at you encouragingly and gratefully, telling you that you can do this and that he’s thankful that you’re here with him.

You smile before squeezing his arm back and then you two plunge into battle. Showtime.

You make small talk with a few of the guests before approaching the bar to get something to drink. As you wait for your drinks you feel Jason lean down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m going to the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back. You okay?”

You nod with a smile, telling him that it’s okay before he gives a quick kiss to your temple and then disappears into the crowd.

Your eyes scan the room as you take the refreshment that has been placed in front of you and take a sip, trying not to draw too much attention upon yourself while you wait. You’re no vigilante but as a person that prefers alone time, assessing the room before making any social interaction goes without saying. You’re even thinking of seeking Alfred and asking him if he needs help with anything when your eyes clock Jason again on the other side of the room, cornered by a bunch of socialites.

He has a pleasing smile on his face as he listens to what they’re telling him. To any other person, it might seem like he’s genuinely interested, but you can read him like a book. The corners of his smile are tense, apart from the fact that it doesn't reach his eyes, and his too constant nodding tells you how he is feigning the interest. His eyes find yours for a moment before returning to the lady speaking to him and in that split millisecond you can see how his smile turns real for you, before becoming fake once again.

You leave your glass on the counter of the bar to make your way to him and save him from the people crowding him when suddenly-

“Care for a dance?” a smooth voice says at your side.

You turn to decline when you’re met with eyes of a vibrant shade of blue, a boyish youth and mischief in them, but also slightly hardened with years of experience dealing with the worst of Gotham. His black hair is perfectly styled, a winning and charming smile on his lips and clad in a black suit with a bow tie that highlights all of his features. You can see how he’s a handsome man but still to you, he doesn’t hold a candle to Jason.

Of course you know who he is.

Gotham’s golden boy.

“Dick Grayson.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” His smile widens and you realize that this is happening whether you want it or not. You’re meeting one of Jason’s brothers. Your eyes flick back to Jason but he’s no longer surrounded by the socialites. In fact, he’s nowhere to be found. He must’ve managed to escape somehow. Looks like you’re going to have to face this alone. You had even been starting to think that this moment wouldn’t come since you hadn’t seen any of Jason’s brothers since you arrived.

You turn back to Dick and he’s still in the exact same position, leaning with one arm on the bar, carefully watching you with a knowing smile. Everything in his demeanor open, easy.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,“ he says, extending his hand.

Your force your body to release the small tension that it has accumulated and with a small smile you shake his hand. “You too.”

“Glad to see that Jason hasn’t made you up. We were starting to doubt that you really existed,” he comments playfully.

You know that he isn’t intimidating you or trying to scare you, merely wanting to meet you, know more about Jason’s life, see the reason why he’s the happiest that they have ever seen him.

“I’m very real, yes.”

“So, how about that dance?”

You pause for a second. “I’m not the best dancer.”

“Come on, please. How am I supposed to get to know my new sister-in-law otherwise?”

“By just talking?”

He chuckles. “Alright, fair enough. How about this, how am I supposed to get to know my sister-in-law without gossiping rich people interrupting us over and over again?” Dick nods to the side and you see how a few of the guests are looking towards you two, no doubt about to walk up to you and force you to establish conversation.

“Lead the way,” you end up saying and Dick’s smile beams even more, his joyous nature and openness making you feel at ease. You feel like he’s trying to make this easy for you, knowing how awkward meeting your boyfriend’s family could be.

He then offers you his arm to guide you to the dance floor and in no time you’re joining all the couples waltzing around it.

“So… Y/N, tell me. What are your intentions with our dear Jaybird?” he jokes in mock seriousness while arching an eyebrow.

“Jaybird?” you ask, never having heard the nickname before but already liking it.

“Oh, Y/N, I have so many anecdotes to tell you. We’re going to have so much fun.”

You smile at the prospect of hearing stories about Jason. “Can’t wait. But to answer your question, my intentions are to just be with him. For as long as he wants me.”

Dick nods, as if you just confirmed something that he already knew. “I feel like that’s going to be a long time.” You feel your cheeks warm at his words. You really hope that it is too. Forever, if you can help it. “Though are you sure that you want to put up with him for so long? He can be insufferable,” he adds, and you chuckle.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Afterwards, he asks you about your job and your family, and you ask him about life in Blüdhaven. You’re glad for his easygoingness, allowing you to feel comfortable and a sense of camaraderie and friendship already between you. You’re also glad that you’re dancing since you’re sure that if you weren’t, conversation wouldn’t have flowed as easily without the privacy that it has given you.

“My turn, Grayson,” a voice suddenly speaks.

You two stop dancing and turn your heads to the side, and then slightly down to find a young boy. His dark combed back hair and his straight posture making him a shadow of his father, his green eyes looking up at you expectantly and his tan skin inherited from his mother. Talia al Ghul.

“No, it isn’t,” Dick replies. 

“Yes, it is,” Damian retorts, holding Dick’s gaze. It’s like they are challenging one another while also having a mental conversation.

Finally, Dick sighs. “Fine. But only if Y/N is okay with that."

“It’s alright,” you say softly.

“See?” Damian insists and Dick rolls his eyes. You smile at their interaction and then Dick turns back to you.

“Thanks for dancing with me, Y/N. It’s been really nice finally getting to talk to you.”

“Likewise.”

Dick squeezes your hands in goodbye before letting go, Damian taking his spot to dance with you. “See you around.” Dick says and you nod and watch as he takes his leave, until a throat clears in front of you and you begin dancing once again.

“You’re Todd’s girlfriend then? Y/L/N?”

“That’s me. You must be Damian. It’s nice to meet you.” Damian nods solemnly before staring intensely at you, as if deciphering you. His movements are graceful and elegant, even more purposeful than Dick’s even. You suppose that all the grace must have something to do with growing up with ninjas and practically being raised like royalty.

Not one to back out, you hold his gaze and stare back at him. He’s shorter than you but you have no doubt that in no time he’ll be taller than you.

“You’re a great dancer, Damian,” you finally say and you can see how something in him changes, no longer putting up the intimidating facade, allowing himself to relax slightly.

“Thanks. Mother taught me.”

“That’s nice. I hope I’m not making you look too much like a fool.”

Damian shrugs. “You’re alright.”

You smile, taking his version of a compliment as a win. Then you take another look around the room, wondering where Jason could be. Maybe Alfred has asked for his help on something. You turn back to Damian, who looks around the space uninterested.

“I’m guessing you don’t like these galas much,” you say, trying to get him to open up a bit more.

“They are… a responsibility.”

“Yeah, well, I’d much rather prefer doing something else. Like going to the aquarium or the museum.” Damian’s eyes shot back to yours like a flash, a small sparkle in them.

Bingo.

You try to contain your triumphant smile. “Have you seen the new art exhibit? Jason told me that you like drawing,” you continue.

And just like that, whatever it was that Damian was wary of disappears as you two make conversation, discussing different painters, Damian’s art and your own hobbies. Then, for a second, Damian pauses in thought, like a jury about to deliver their decision, making you wonder what he’s about to say. 

“You’re cool. Todd was right about you,” he finally says as the current song ends and you two come to a stop.

You smile softly in thanks. “Glad to hear that.”

“Though I’m not yet quite sure what you could be seeing in Todd. You’re clearly way cooler than him.”

That makes you chuckle and you don’t miss how a smile twitches on Damian’s face.

“Thanks, I guess? Though he’s not that bad. Not at all.”

Damian just shrugs at your statement but you have the feeling that behind all the picking, there’s fondness and a brotherly bond between him and Jason.

“Anyway, I have to go feed my animals. It was nice meeting you, Y/N.” Your jaw almost drops, but you manage to avoid it before your lips twist into a wide smile.

Damian’s calling you by your first name. When Jason has told you that he never does that with anyone. Not even Dick.

“You too, Damian.”

He nods in goodbye before going towards the exit of the ballroom. You leave the dance floor and take a deep breath. Well, that wasn’t so bad. It was fun, actually.

You decide that you need some air in order to take all of the recent events in and head towards the open patio door that looks out to the gardens. Even though you can still hear the party, as the door is still open, the change of ambience is very much welcomed. You inhale the fresh air before releasing a content sigh at having a moment for yourself.

You lean on the railing surrounding the few steps that separate you from the grass as you gaze up at the clear sky, the moon illuminating the patio and the late summer evening breeze creating ripples along the surface of the pool. It’s a nice break from the scorching nights that Gotham can have along the summer. You can’t wait for the fall.

As you let yourself relax in the quiet evening, you think back to what has just happened. You just met two of Jason’s brothers. And everything went well. You still can’t believe it. You let out a soft chuckle at the thought that your social skills haven’t failed you this time. Despite usually needing a lot of time with a person to open up and build trust, you’re surprised at how easy it came to you with Dick and Damian, already getting along and having the feeling that you’re going to become good friends. Family, someday.

Maybe it’s due to Dick’s easygoing personality or the things that you have in common with Damian but you feel like it’s more than that. The knowledge that these kind of connections don’t come easy for them either, given all the secrets that they have to keep and the fact that they don’t have to tiptoe around you. The fact that you all love Jason Todd dearly.

You’re just glad that you click with them as well as you did all that time ago with Jason. Who, by the way, is still MIA. It’s been a good while since you saw him. Where could he be?

“Do you want some?” a voice suddenly says, interrupting your thoughts and making you turn towards its source.

Well, looks like the meeting-your-boyfriend’s-family night isn’t over.

Tim Drake stands on the doorway, holding two glasses of champagne. He’s wearing a suit as well but his appearance isn’t as neat as Dick’s or Damian’s. His hair is slightly tousled and his tie is loosened around his neck. His blue eyes, a shade lighter than Dick’s, look kindly at you.

“Sure, thanks,” you say as you take the glass that he offers you. The truth was that you weren’t a big drinker, only having a few sips on scattered special occasions during the year, like champagne on New Year’s Day or the rare instances in which you found yourself in glamorous parties like this.

You take a small sip of the sparkly drink as Tim comes to stand next to you.

“So, what do you think of the gala? Having fun?”

“It’s alright. You all do know how to throw a party,” you answer.

“What can I say? If there’s one thing we’re good at is appearances,” Tim says jokingly.

You nod with a smile while taking another sip, though this time you can’t help the grimace that you make at the growing bitter taste of alcohol in your mouth.

“Not a fan?”

“Not really,” you respond honestly, deciding to leave the glass on the outdoor table for now.

“Me neither, actually.”

And then, your eyes widen when, just like nothing, Tim literally throws the content of his glass, his untouched and what you’re sure of is a very, very, expensive champagne towards the grass and leaves his now empty glass next to yours.

Seriously, what was wrong with rich people?

You shake the thought as you and Tim start making friendly conversation. He’s telling you a story in which Jason faceplanted once during training, when it strikes you that it really is amazing how all the Robins somehow actually physically look like family despite not being blood-related. And it’s not just the coincidence that all of them have clear colored eyes and dark hair, but rather the way in which they hold themselves, something in their stance and attitude giving them a similar aura. An aura of shared hardships and experiences.

“I’m sorry that it took so long for us to meet,” Tim says after a small moment of peaceful silence. You shake your head and you can feel the shift in the air as his expression turns more serious and continues talking before you can say anything.

“I know that we can be a lot, and you haven’t even met all of us.” You tilt your head, listening, waiting to see where he’s going with this. “Things between us and Jason are good, though of course, like with any family, there are some rough patches.” He pauses for a second, leaning with his hip on the metal railing while crossing his arms. “We really wanted to meet you and we feared that something that we hadn’t realized had been going on with Jason and that he was retreating again by refusing to introduce you to us.”

You shake your head again. “It’s not that at all, Tim, I promise. Things are good. He just gets doubtful sometimes and needs to take things at his own time.”

Tim nods, letting you know that he understands. “I’m just sorry that we boarded you like this, we thought it might be easier taking the pressure out of it. Instead of having a formal family dinner or something, just meet you today in case that Jason decided to bring you. All in all, I’m glad we did, we probably wouldn’t have met you for a lot longer, probably until it was strictly necessary, if we hadn’t intervened.”

You’re processing all the information when before you can reply, you finally hear Jason’s voice again.

“Y/N!” he calls as he approaches you after spotting you outside. “I’m so, so sorry for leaving you alone. I was ambushed by the guests before going to the bathroom, then Alfred asked me to go help him with something in the kitchen and then Dick couldn’t fucking wait to ask me something about a case. It was just one thing after the other, I’m so sorry,” he rambles, a hand running through his hair in distress, knowing how you hate this kind of events as much as him.

Just as he finishes his rant, he finally reaches you and as he takes your hands in his, you can visibly see how his distressed state morphs into a relieved one just by being next to you. It’s like during your unexpected time apart Jason had been underwater the whole time and has just been finally allowed to come up for air to the surface and fill his lungs just by seeing you and being near you again.

You just shake your head and gently bring a hand to the nape of his neck to press your foreheads together so that he can ground himself and focus on you, showing him that you’re okay. You just know he’s feeling guilty for leaving you on your own when you two promised to be together to face the night.

“It’s okay,” you say softly in a low voice, trying to calm him.

And then, after connecting the dots between what Tim and Jason have just said, everything clicks. It’s not a coincidence that you’ve met Jason’s brothers one right after the other and that Jason just so conveniently had been missing from your side to prevent that from happening. You can’t help the small smile that pulls at your lips upon realizing what has happened, finding the Waynes’ antics and dramaticness quite entertaining.

“And don’t worry, I had company,” you add.

And just as you say that, you can see how Jason feels movement to his right and turns his head like a hawk to find Tim shifting on his feet. Jason hadn’t seen him earlier since you were the only one visible through the open door and once outside, Tim’s side of the terrace was covered in shadows.

You see the exact moment in which Jason’s gaze hardens staring at Tim, realizing just exactly what had actually happened, all of his family plotting to distract him so that they could meet you. You know that Jason isn’t actually angry, just slightly annoyed from the ruse and from being kept away from you, and now he’s channeling all of that towards Tim, making it seem bigger than what it actually is.

“Tim…” Jason says through gritted teeth in a threatening tone as he separates himself from you and starts stomping towards Tim. It’s almost comically funny how Tim immediately scrambles and bolts to the other side of the terrace, putting the outdoor table between him and Jason, extending his arms in front of him to protect himself as if he was some defenseless animal and not a well-trained vigilante.

You almost have to stifle a laugh.

Sibling dynamics at its finest.

“Listen, Jason, I-” Tim starts to plead his case but before Jason gets too far away from you, you grab his hand again. And it’s incredible the way in which Jason turns towards you and immediately his posture softens. Tim doesn’t waste the opportunity and escapes into the gala again, leaving you and Jason alone.

“It’s alright, they just wanted to meet me,” you say and Jason sighs, deciding to let the matter go and just come back to your arms, his hands on your waist, giving a small subconscious squeeze.

“Yes, but they had no right to play with us,” he answers, pressing your foreheads together once again.

“I know. But, hey,” you lift your hand to push some hair away from his forehead, “nothing bad happened. I’m still here.”

Jason nods and his gaze softens before closing his eyes, relishing in your touch. You close your eyes as well and you two stay in your embrace for a moment. Letting the night envelop you, surrounding yourselves with the evening sounds of the faded chatter from the party, the breeze rustling the bushes, the water in the pool, the night time insects and an owl in the distance.

“I think it’s time for us to leave,” Jason finally says, looking at you once again, having had enough of the social night.

“Yes,” you wholeheartedly agree, wanting to have your boyfriend all for yourself.

With that said, Jason nods, kisses your forehead and takes your hand firmly in his in order to not lose you again and you two make your way out of the gala. You don’t even bother to say goodbye to anybody. As you two leave, on the side of the ballroom, Dick, Tim, Damian and Alfred all stand in line, watching you fondly, glad to finally have met you and seen how happy Jason is with you. Before disappearing from view you give them a small wave and they smile.

You still have to meet Bruce, but that’s a problem for another day.

When you finally get home and Jason closes the door behind you, the two of you having already decided that he would spend the night at your apartment, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. Finally home. You take a deep breath, shedding your social armor. Jason feels relief too at having finally left the manor, because even though the place will always be a home to him, the very definition of the word changed when he met you.

Jason watches you mesmerized as you leave your purse on a table and then move to the kitchen to drink a cold glass of water. He stands idly in your living room following your every move, a cast spell on him.

You’re beautiful.

Even though your hair isn’t as perfectly done as it was at the beginning of the evening and there’s a tired drag to your feet, you are. You always are.

He still can’t believe that you’re with him.

The way that you move around him as comfortably as you’d do if you were alone amazes him. It amazes him that you feel safe enough with him to just be yourself, not putting on any mask like you did in the gala with the attendees. He’s just so immensely grateful that you let him see you like this, open and being so undoubtedly yourself.

You’re saying something about cooking something quick or maybe ordering takeout when you brace yourself with a hand on the back of a chair to take off your heels with the other. But before you can take off your shoe, Jason softly grabs your hand, stopping you mid-rant.

He pulls you to follow him and you don’t put any kind of resistance, letting a comfortable silence fall upon you two. The only sounds the passing cars on the street and the steps of your heels on the floor. Once you reach the couch Jason makes you sit on it and you watch as he kneels in front of you and then, with a care and gentleness that no one would expect from the man known as Red Hood, he begins to undo the straps of your heels.

And there’s just something in the sight in front of you that makes your heart flip in your chest. How someone as big as him gets down on his knees before you, for once him being the one looking up at you instead of the other way around, almost as if worshiping the ground you walk on, as if you were the one that brought him back to life and not some mystical pit.

Now it’s you the one that watches him enchanted, wondering how you were so lucky as to have him love you. He takes one of your heels off, his eyes never leaving yours for a second, and then gives your free foot a slight massage to help the soreness out of it and you sigh in relief.

How is he even real?

And then, just before slipping the other heel off, with one of his warm hands on your lower calf, you watch with your heart in your throat how he kisses the inside of your knee.

You let out a small gasp and it’s crazy how much your heart is racing because you just know that he did it just for the heck of it, an act so loving, so simple, with no major intention rather than the selfish feeling of wanting to feel your skin against his lips.

But what raises goosebumps all throughout your body is not the action in itself, but rather the dark sparkle that crosses his eyes upon hearing your gasp, promising you something for later, for when he’s drawing shapes all across your body, as if tracing a map signaling a treasure. Except that the map itself is the treasure and he’s just taking his time exploring it, enjoying it, admiring it, worshiping it.

Jason then finally takes off your other heel and gives your foot the same quick massage treatment as the other one. When he’s done he gets back up on his feet and offers you a hand.

You take it and he pulls you to your feet again. And then, in the same silent comfort that has settled over you, with the same care and gentleness that Jason has treated you with, you slowly undo his tie, your gaze still fixed on his, saying a million different things that do not need to be said out loud. Most of them having to do with how much you love him.

After you discard the tie somewhere on the couch, you undo the first couple of buttons of his shirt, releasing him from the uptightness that comes with them and you feel his muscles relax even further under your hands. Next, you slip his jacket from his shoulders and he helps you take it off of him while he looks at you with the same intensity that you regard him with, reveling in how you take care of him.

Then, Jason rolls his sleeves up a bit his forearms before taking one of your hands in his and then, with his other arm around your waist, pulls you flush against his chest, practically fusing you two together, as if he could never pull you close enough, needing you as physically closer as possible, just as much as he needed oxygen, if not more.

“We didn’t have a chance to dance,” he whispers then with your faces inches from each other, still not disturbing the peaceful silence.

You hum in agreement and before you know it, you’re already swaying softly together in the living room, both of you with your eyes closed, your head resting on the crook of his neck and his on your hair. There’s no music but it doesn’t need to be, you feel so at peace and content, none of the opulent galas in the world could compare to a quiet evening with Jason.

You have no idea how much time you’ve spent there, barefoot and wrapped in Jason’s arms, swaying to the sounds of Gotham’s nightlife and your own heartbeats, only knowing that you would gladly spend forever like this.

“Thank you.”

You lift your head to find that Jason’s already looking at you.

“For what?” you ask in the same soft tone as him, a lilt of confusion in your voice.

“For coming today.” Before you can respond he keeps talking. “For sticking around. For putting up with my family.” A pause. His eyes leave yours to look to the side. He shrugs. “Just… for being with me, I guess.”

Your gaze softens and you feel a pang in your chest as you see Jason’s insecurities eating away at him. You stop your swaying and bring your hands to Jason’s face to make him focus on you, his hands moving instinctively to hold your waist. But Jason’s still avoiding your gaze and you hate the doubt that you see creeping in your favorite shade of green.

“I’m always going to be here. I’m right where I want to be. I love you. And I’m not putting up with anything, I want you. I want to be part of all the parts in your life,” you say, softly caressing his cheek with your thumb, having the suspicion that these doubts have something to do with meeting his brothers tonight.

“I know. I just…” Jason takes a deep breath closing his eyes, taking a moment to organize his thoughts before looking at you again. “I just can’t believe that you’re still here. I have this… this feeling that one way or another I’m going to screw up and lose you.”

You open your mouth to refute him but Jason shakes his head, presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes to concentrate on what he wants to say, and continues before you can say anything. “And I know, trust me, I know that you love me and that you’re not going to leave. You show me every single day. I was just afraid that if neither myself nor me being Red Hood hadn’t driven you away, my family surely would.”

When Jason finishes he doesn’t move, his forehead still against yours and his eyes still closed, as if he doesn’t want to face what may come next, and his hands on your waist in the same position, if anything, holding onto you even tighter.

Holding onto you as if it were the last time, as if his confession would finally be the thing that would drive you away. You close your eyes as well for a second and take a deep breath.

How can you even begin to express how much you love this man?

Your heart is bursting with how much you feel for him. The love that you hold for him begins in the depth of it and as your heart pumps blood through your body, it also pumps that love through every single vein, nerve and cell in it. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It’s something that lies beneath every single movement and action that you make, to the point where you’re not sure if what sustains you are your bones or your love for him.

And that love of course, is interlaced with the pain that comes from watching the one you love hurt. You know that Jason is telling you the truth, that he knows that you’re not going anywhere and that you love him. But there’s this underlying fear in him, an instinct acquired from having lost all the good things in his life, things that he loved, from both his mothers to wearing the Robin mantle, that makes him subconsciously always expect the worst.

That’s why he prolonged you meeting his family for so long.

Without knowing, he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the moment in which the rug will be pulled from under him and he’ll fall into the void. He survived all the previous things, more or less, but he isn’t sure that he would if you were to leave his life.

Because now everything, every single piece of him is rooted in you, like the earth orbiting the sun, the very thing that allows life on the planet in the first place. And that’s what you are to him, a source of warmth, comfort and life. And he’s sure that if he didn’t have that he would crumble. He might technically survive it but he wouldn’t be the same.

But the thing is that just as much as he's rooted in you, you’re rooted to him. He’s the anchor to your boat lost in a storm, the earth to your forever spinning moon. He’s your anchor, your earth, your sun, your everything.

You know that the doubts and insecurities aren’t going to disappear overnight but maybe, together, you two can make them lessen.

“Jason. Look at me,” you say when you open your eyes once again, pulling back slightly so that you can look him square in the eyes. Jason sighs, not wanting the quiet moment, the infinite second in which he can just be in your embrace and forget everything else to end. But then he slowly opens his eyes, showing you his troubled thoughts.

“I love you. So much that I can feel it in every single part of my body. It’s like you’re part of my DNA. And nothing, absolutely nothing, can make me want to leave you. And you’re not going to screw up anything. Call me selfish but I want to be near the things that make me feel strong, like I can achieve anything I want. The things that comfort me when I need it most, that are always there for me, even when I’m not at my best and I feel like a burden.”

Now Jason is the one that shakes his head and wants to refute you but you move your thumb from his cheek to his lips to shush him. “The things that make me feel loved. And you’re the only thing that makes me feel all of that. God knows I have my baggage too and it still amazes me that you understand me, that you want to carry it with me, that you’re proud to do so.”

You take a deep breath. “So no, I’m not leaving. Ever. I’m always going to be here. And I’m very glad that I met Dick, Tim and Damian tonight. They’re nice and they have allowed me to see more of you. And if there's something that I can’t get enough of is you. Okay?”

Jason nods as he leans into the touch of your hand, his eyes bright with love and admiration for you. And then he closes the small distance between you and kisses you, gripping your waist tightly, one hand coming up to hold your face and deepen the kiss. Your hands drop to his shoulders and you don’t waste a single second to kiss him back as fervently as he does. He hasn’t answered to your reassuring words but you don’t need him to. He’s telling you everything you need to know in that kiss.

When his lips first came in contact with yours, he said, Okay.

Where his hands are grabbing your body so tightly but oh so gently, he’s saying, You’re what I treasure most in this world.

And as you stand there in the middle of the living room, being kissed like nothing else exists except you two in this very moment, he’s saying, I love you.

You could have been like that just a couple of minutes or a couple of centuries for all you know, always forgetting the outside world when he kisses you. And when you finally part to catch your breaths, foreheads against each other, your hand softly caressing the hair at the back of his head, the shine in his eyes tells you everything that his lips have just said and more.

Still, he wants to make sure that you’re aware that he isn’t going to let his thoughts eat away at him and so he finally whispers, “Okay.”

“Good,” you whisper back, your hand finding his cheek and caressing it once again. And then you find his lips again, because if there’s one thing that you could spend doing forever without ever growing tired of is kissing him.

And without speaking, your lips tell him something too. Something that he feels as certain as the sun, the moon and the stars. 

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[felassan]

Edge – The Future of Interactive Entertainment magazine, issue #401 (October 2024 issue) – Dragon Age: The Veilguard story

The rest of this post is under a cut for length.

Update: this issue of this magazine is now available to buy from UK retailers today. it can be purchased online at [this link]. [Tweet from Edge Online] also, Kala found that a digital version of the magazine can be read at [this link].

This post is a word-for-word transcription of the full article on DA:TV in this issue of this magazine. DA:TV is the cover story of this issue. When transcribing, I tried to preserve as much of the formatting from the magazine as possible. Edge talked to BioWare devs for the creation of this article, so the article contains new quotes from the devs. the article is written by Jeremy Peel. There were no new screenshots or images from the game in the article. I also think that it contains a few lil bits of information that are new, like the bits on companions' availability and stumbling across the companions out and about on their own in the world e.g. finding Neve investigating an abduction case in Docktown.

tysm to @simpforsolas and their friend for kindly telling me about the article!!

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[image source]

Article introduction segment:

"[anecdote about Edge] We were reminded of this minuscule episode in Edge's history during the creation of this issue's cover story, in which we discuss the inspiration behind Dragon Age: The Veilguard with its creators at BioWare. Notably, director John Epler remembers the studio experimenting with a number of approaches during the early phase of development before eventually locking in to what the game was supposed to be all along, above all else: 'a single-player, story-focused RPG'. As you'd expect from BioWare, though, that was really just a starting point, as we discovered on p54." BioWare draws back the Veil and ushers us into a new Dragon Age

"BEHIND THE CURTAIN BioWare's first true RPG in age age is as streamlined and pacey as a dragon in flight. By Jeremy Peel Game Dragon Age: The Veilguard Developer BioWare Publisher EA Format PC, PS5, Xbox Series Origin Canada Release Autumn

The Dragon Age universe wasn't born from a big bang or the palm of an ancient god. Instead, it was created to solve a problem. BioWare was tired of battling Hasbro during the making of Baldur's Gate and Neverwinter Nights, and wanted a Dungeons & Dragons-like setting of its own. A small team was instructed to invent a new fantasy world in which the studio could continue its groundbreaking work in the field of western RPGs, free of constraints.

Well, almost free. BioWare's leaders mandated that the makers of this new world stick to Eurocentric fantasy, and include a fireball spell - since studio co-founder Ray Muzyka had a weakness for offensive magic.

Beyond that, BioWare’s storytellers were empowered to infuse Dragon Age with their own voices and influences, leaning away from D&D’s alignment chart and towards a moral grayness that left fans of A Song Of Ice And Fire feeling warm and cozy.

In the two decades since, the world of Thedas – rather infamously and amusingly, a shortening of ‘the Dragon Age setting’ that stuck – has taken on a distinct flavor. It’s something director John Epler believes is rooted in characters.

“There’s definitely some standard fantasy stuff in Dragon Age, but everything in the world, every force, is because of someone,” he says. “The idea is that every group and faction needs to be represented by a person – someone you can relate to. Big political forces are fine as background, but they don’t provide you with those interesting story moments.”

Dragon Age: The Veilguard bears out that philosophy. The long-awaited sequel was first announced with the subtitle Dreadwolf, in reference to its antagonist, Solas – an ancient elf who once stripped his people of immortality as punishment for betraying one of their own. In doing so, Solas created the Veil, the thin barrier through which wizards pull spirits and demons invade the waking world. In other words, many of Dragon Age’s defining features, from its downtrodden elves to the uneasy relationship between mages and a fearful church, can be traced right back to one character’s decision.

“The world exists as it does because of Solas,” Epler says. “He shaped the world because of the kind of character he was. That’s, to me, what makes Dragon Age so interesting. Everything can tie back to a person who to some degree thought they were doing the right thing.”

Perhaps BioWare’s greatest achievement in slowburn character development, Solas is a former companion, an unexploded bomb who sat in the starting party of Dragon Age: Inquisition, introverted and useful enough to get by without suspicion. Yet by the time credits rolled around on the Trespasser DLC, players were left in no doubt as to the threat he presented.

Determined to reverse the damage he once caused, the Dreadwolf intends to pull down the Veil, destroying Thedas as we know it in the process. The next Dragon Age game was always intended to be his story.

“We set that up at the end of Trespasser,” Epler says. “There was no world where we were ever going to say, ‘And now let’s go to something completely different.’ We wanted to pay off that promise.”

Yet almost everything else about the fourth Dragon Age appears to have been in flux at one time. In 2019, reporter Jason Schreier revealed that an early version, starring a group of spies pulling off heists in the Tevinter Imperium, had been cancelled two years prior. Most of its staff were apparently moved onto BioWare’s struggling Anthem, while a tiny team rebooted Dragon Age from scratch. That new game was said to experiment with live-service components.

“We tried a bunch of different ideas early on,” Epler says. “But the form The Veilguard has taken is, in a lot of ways, the form that we were always pushing towards. We were just trying different ways to get there. There was that moment where we really settled on, ‘This is a singleplayer, story-focused RPG – and that’s all it needs to be’”.

Epler imagines a block of marble, from which BioWare was attempting to carve an elephant – a character- and story-driven game. “We were chipping away, and sometimes it looked more like an elephant and sometimes it didn’t”, he says. “And then we eventually realized: ‘Just make an elephant’. When we got to that, it almost just took shape by itself.”

2014’s Dragon Age: Inquisition was an open-world game commonly criticized for a slow-paced starting area which distracted players from the thrust of the plot. The Veilguard, in contrast, is mission-based, constructed with tighter, bespoke environments designed around its main story and cast. “We wanted to build a crafted, curated experience for the player,” Epler says. “Pacing is important to us, and making sure that the story stays front and center.”

Epler is very proud of Inquisition, the game on which he graduated from cinematic designer to a lead role (for its DLC). “But one of the things that we ran into on that project was an absentee antagonist,” he says. “Corypheus showed up and then disappeared. You spent ten hours in the Hinterland doing sidequests, and there wasn’t that sense of urgency.”

This time, The Veilguard team wants you to constantly feel the sword of Damocles dangling above your head as you play – a sense that the end of the world is coming if you don’t act. “There’s still exploration – there’s still the ability to go into some of these larger spaces and go off the beaten path to do sidequests,” Epler says. “But there’s always something in the story propelling you and the action forward, and allowing you to make decisions with these characters where the stakes feel a lot more immediate and present. And also, honestly, more real.”

No sooner have you finished character creation than Dragon Age: The Veilguard thrusts you into a choice. As your protagonist, Rook, steps into focus on the doorstep of the seediest bar in town, you decide whether to threaten the owner for information or make a deal. Brawl or no, you’ll walk out minutes later with a lead: the location of a private investigator named Neve Gallus, who can help you track down Solas.

You proceed into Minrathous, the largest city in Thedas and capital of the Tevinter Imperium – a region only alluded to in other Dragon Age games. It’s a place built on the backs of slaves and great mages, resulting in tiered palaces and floating spires – a kind of architecture unimaginable to those in the southern nations.

“When your Dragon Age: Inquisition companion Dorian joins you in Orlais, in one of the biggest cities in Thedas, he mentions that it’s quaint and cute compared to Minrathous,” Corinne Busche, game director on The Veilguard, says. “That one bit of dialogue was our guiding principle on how to realize this city. It is sprawling. It is lived-in. Sometimes it’s grimy, sometimes it’s bougie. But it is expansive.”

Immediately, you can see the impact of BioWare’s decision to tighten its focus. Around every other corner in Minrathous is an exquisitely framed view, a level of spectacle you would never see in Inquisition, where resources were spread much more thinly. “When you know that you’re gonna be heading down a canyon or into this plaza where the buildings open up, you have those perfect spots to put a nice big temple of Andraste or a mage tower,” art director Matthew Rhodes says. “You get those opportunities to really hit that hard.”

BioWare’s intention is to make strong visual statements that deliver on decades of worldbuilding. “People who have a history with Dragon Age have thought about what Minrathous might be like,” Rhodes says. “We can never compete with their imagination, but we can aim for it like we’re shooting for the Moon.”

The people of Tevinter use magic as it if were electricity, as evidenced by the glowing sigils that adorn the dark buildings – street signs evoking Osaka’s riverfront or the LA of Blade Runner. They’re just one of the tricks BioWare’s art team uses to invite you to stop and take in the scene. “A lot of what you start to notice when you’re the artist who’s been working on these big, beautiful vistas and neat murals on the walls is how few players look up,” Rhodes says. “We design props and architecture that help lead the eyes.”

For the really dedicated shoegazers, BioWare has invested in ray-traced reflections, so that the neon signage can be appreciated in the puddles. There are also metal grates through which you can see the storm drains below. “The idea behind that is purely just to remind the player often of how stacked the city is,” Rhodes says. “Wherever you’re standing, there’s guaranteed to be more below you and above you.”

One of BioWare’s core creative principles for The Veilguard is to create a world that’s actually worth saving – somewhere you can imagine wanting to stick around in, once the crises of the main quest are over. To that end, the team has looked to ground its outlandish environments with elements of mundanity.

“A guy’s normal everyday life walking down the streets of this city is more spectacular than what the queen of Orlais is seeing, at least in terms of sheer scale," Rhodes says. “One of the things we’ve tried to strike a balance with is that this is actually still a place where people have to go to the market and buy bread, raise their kids, and try to make it. It’s a grand and magical city, but how do you get your horses from one place to the next? Where do you load the barrels for the tavern? It’s really fun to think of those things simultaneously.”

Normal life in Minrathous is not yours to behold for long, however. Within a couple of minutes of your arrival, the very air is ripped open like cheap drapes, and flaming demons clatter through the merchant carts that line the city streets. A terrible magical ritual, through which Solas intends to stitch together a new reality, has begun.

“We wanted the prologue to feel like the finale of any other game we’ve done,” Busche explains. “Where it puts you right into this media-res attack on a city and gets you really invested in the action and the story right away. When I think back to Inquisition, how the sky was literally tearing open – the impact of this ritual really makes that look like a minor inconvenience.”

Our hero is confronted by a Pride demon, imposing and armored as in previous games, yet accented by exposed, bright lines that seem to burst from its ribcage. “They are a creature of raw negative emotion,” Busche says. “So we wanted to actually incorporate that into their visual design with this glowing nervous system.”

When a pack of smaller demons blocks Rook’s route to the plaza where Neve was last seen, battle breaks out, and The Veilguard’s greatest divergence from previous Dragon Age games becomes apparent. Our rogue protagonist flits between targets up close and evades individual sword swings with precision. In the chaos, he swaps back and forth between blades and a bow. He blends light and heavy attacks, and takes advantage of any gap in the melee to charge up even bigger blows.

“Responsiveness was our first-and-foremost goal with this baseline layer of the combat system,” Busche says. Unless you’re activating a high-risk, high-reward ability such as a charged attack, any action can be animation-cancelled, allowing you to abort a sword swing and dive away if an enemy lunges too close. “We very much wanted you to feel like you exist in this space, as you’re going through these really crafted, hand-touched worlds,” Busche says. “That you’re on the ground in control of every action, every block, every dodge.” Anyone who’s ever bounced off a Soulslike needn’t worry: The Veilguard’s highly customizable difficulty settings enable you to loosen up parry windows if they prove too demanding.

Gone is the overhead tactical camera which, for some players, was a crucial point of connection between Dragon Age and the Baldur’s Gate games that came before, tapping into a lineage of thoughtful, tabletop-inspired combat. Epler points out that the camera’s prior inclusion had an enormous impact on where the game’s battles took place. “We actually had a mandate on Inquisition, which was, ‘Don’t fight inside,’” he says. “The amount of extra work on getting that tactical camera to work in a lot of those internal environments, it was very challenging.”

Gone, too, is the ability to steer your comrades directly. “On the experiential side, we wanted you to feel like you are Rook – you’re in this world, you’re really focused on your actions,” Busche says. “We very much wanted the companions to feel like they, as fully realized characters, are in control of their own actions. They make their own decisions. You, as the leader of this crew, can influence and direct and command them, but they are their own people.”

It's an idea with merit, albeit one that could be read as spin. “It’s not lost on me,” Busche says. “I will admit that, on paper, if you just read that you have no ability to control your companions, it might feel like something was taken away. But in our testing and validating with players, what we find is they’re more engaged than ever.”

There may be a couple of reasons for that. One is that Dragon Age’s newly dynamic action leaves little room for seconds spent swapping between perspectives. “This is a much higher actions-per-minute game,” Busche says. “It is more technically demanding on the player. So when we tried allowing you full control of your companions as well, what we’ve found is it wasn’t actually adding to the experience. In fact, in some ways it was detrimental, given the demanding nature of just controlling your own character.”

Then there’s The Veilguard’s own tactical layer, as described by BioWare. Though the fighting might be faster and lower, like a mana-fuelled sports scar, the studio is keen to stress that the pause button remains as important to the action as ever. This is, according to Busche, where the RPG depth shines through, as you evaluate the targets you’re facing and take their buffs into account: “Matching elemental types against weaknesses and resistances is a big key to success in this game.”

You pick between rogue, warrior and mage – each role later splitting again into deeper specialisms – and draw from a class-specific resource during fights. A rogue relies on Momentum, which is built up by avoiding damage and being highly aggressive, whereas a warrior is rewarded for blocking, parrying, and mitigating damage.

Those resources are then used on the ability wheel, which pauses the game and allows you to consider your options. The bottom quadrant of the wheel belongs to your character, and is where three primary abilities will be housed. “Rook will also have access to runes, which function as an ability, and a special ultimate ability,” Busche says. “So you’re bringing five distinct abilities with you into combat.”

The sections to the left and right of the wheel, meanwhile, are dedicated to your companions. Busche points to Lace Harding, the returning rogue from Inquisition, who is currently frozen mid-jump. “She is her own realized individual in this game. She’s got her own behaviors: how she prioritizes targets, whether she gets up close and draws aggro or stays farther back at range. But you’ll be able to direct her in combat by activating her abilities from the wheel.”

These abilities are complemented by positional options at the top of the wheel, where you can instruct your companions to focus their efforts on specific targets, either together or individually. Doing so will activate the various buffs, debuffs and damage enhancements inherent in their weapons and gear. “So,” Busche explains, “as you progress through the first two hours of the game, this full ability wheel is completely populated with a variety of options and different tactics that you can then string together.”

BioWare has leaned into combos. You might tell one companion to unleash a gravity-well effect that gathers enemies together, then have another slow time. Finally, you could drop an AOE attack on your clustered and slowed opponents, dealing maximum damage. The interface will let you know when an opportunity to blend two companion abilities emerges – moments BioWare has dubbed ‘combo detonations’.

“I like to think about this strategic layer to combat as a huddle,” Busche says, “where you’re figuring out how you want to handle the situation, based on the information you have on the encounter, and how you and your companions synergize together.”

Deeper into the game, as encounters get more challenging, Epler says we’ll be spending a lot of time making “very specific and very focused tactical decisions”. The proof will be in eating the Fereldan fluffy mackerel pudding, of course, but Busche insists this shift to fast action isn’t a simplification. “What really makes the combat system and indeed the extension into the progression system work is that pause-and-play tactical element that we know our players expect.”

The autonomy of The Veilguard’s companions doesn’t end with combat. BioWare’s data shows that in previous games players tended to stick with the same two or three beloved comrades during a playthrough. This time, however, you’ll be forced to mix your squad up at regular intervals.

“We do expect that players will have favorites they typically want to adventure with,” Busche says, “but sometimes certain companions will be mandatory.” Others may not always be available – part of the studio’s effort to convince with three-dimensional characters. “They do have a life outside of Rook, the main character,” Busche says.

"They'll fall in love with people in this world. They’ve had past experiences they’ll share with you if you allow them in and get close to them.”

Being separated from your companions, rather than collecting them all in a kind of stasis at camp, allows you to stumble across them unexpectedly. Busche describes an instance in which, while exploring the Docktown section of Minrathous, you might bump into Neve as she investigates an abduction case. “If I go and interact with her, I can actually stop what I’m doing, pick up her arc and adventure with her throughout her part of the story,” Busche says. “What’s interesting is that all of the companion arcs do ultimately tie back to the themes of the main critical path, but they also have their own unique challenges and villains, and take place over the course of many different intimate moments.”

Some parts of a companion’s quest arc involve combat, while others don’t. Some are made up of large and meaningful missions – as lavish and involved as those along the critical path. “While they are optional, I would be hesitant to call them side content in this game,” Busche says. If you choose not to engage with some of these companion-centered events, they’ll resolve on their own. “And it might have interesting implications.”

The Veilguard promises plenty of change, then, even as it picks up the threads of fan-favorite characters and deepens them, honoring the decades of worldbuilding that came before it. This is perhaps the enduring and alluring paradox of Dragon Age: a beloved series which has never had a direct and immediate sequel, nor a recurring protagonist. Instead, it’s been reinvented with each new entry.

“It’s a mixed blessing to some degree,” Epler says. “The upside is always that it gives us more room to experiment and to try new things. There are parts of the series that are common to every game: it’s always an RPG, it’s always about characters, and we always want to have that strategic tactical combat where you’re forced to make challenging decisions. But at the end of the day, I think what makes Dragon Age Dragon Age is that each one feels a little bit different.”"

Q&A Matthew Rhodes Art director

Q. Early BioWare RPGs were literary, with the emotions and detail mostly happening in dialogue boxes. How have you seen the studio's approach to visual storytelling evolve? A. This has been my entire career. When I first showed up at BioWare, it was at the tail end of Jade Empire, and then I was working on Dragon Age: Origins and early Mass Effect. The games had taken that next step out of sprites and 2D models, and it was like: 'How do we say more? How do we communicate more clearly?' During those early days, a lot of games depended on words to fix everything for you. As long as your character was talking bombastically, you could lend them everything that they needed. But as time went on it also became a visual medium, and it's been this long journey of trying to establish art's seat at the table. I've worked with some great writers over the years, and art is also an essential part of the storytelling. From Dragon Age: Inquisition on, I've been trying to stress with my teams that we are a story department.

Q. Is part of that also letting writers know that your storytelling assistance is available, to help them show rather than tell? A. On The Veilguard, that principle has been operating the best I've seen it. Where you would need a paragraph of dialogue in one of those exposition moments where a character just talks to you, we could sell that with a broken statue or a skeleton overgrown with vines. We've had more opportunities to do that on The Veilguard than most of the projects I've ever worked on combined.

To a hammer, every problem looks like a nail, and so in every department, writing will try to solve it with more words, and art will try to solve it with more art. I've bumped up against moments where it's like, 'As much as we could keep hammering on this design, I think this is actually an audio solution.' And then you take it to audio, and you don't get that overcooked feeling where each team is just trying to solve it in their silo. It's a really creatively charged kind of environment.

[main body of article ends here]

Additional from throughout the article --

Image caption: “Spotlights shine down from the city guards’ base as they pursue you through the streets of Minrathous.”

Image caption: “While most of your companions can be sorted into comfortingly familiar RPG classes, The Veilguard introduces two new varieties: a Veil Jumper and a private investigator.”"

Image caption [on this Solas ritual concept art specifically]: “The name previously given to the game – Dreadwolf – was a direct reference to Solas. Your former companion, now on his own destructive mission, still features, despite the name change.”

Text in a side box:

"RATIONAL ANTHEM The hard lesson BioWare drew from Anthem was to play to its strengths. “We’re a studio that has always been built around digging deep on storytelling and roleplaying,” Epler says. “I’m proud of a lot of things on Anthem – I was on that project for a year and a half. But at the end of the day we were building a game focused on something we were not necessarily as proficient at. For me and for the team, the biggest lesson was to know what you’re good at and then double down on it. Don’t spread yourselves too thin. Don’t try to do a bunch of different things you don’t have the expertise to do. A lot of the people on this team came here to build a story-focused, singleplayer RPG."

Image caption: “In combat you no longer control your companions directly – this is a faster-paced form of fighting – but you are able to direct them in combat, and can even blend their abilities in ‘combo detonations’.”

Image caption: “You’ll be exploring new regions across Tevinter and beyond – Rivain is a certainty, and that’s only accessible via Antiva travelling overland.”

Image caption: “There are three specializations per character class; on the way to unlocking them you’ll acquire a range of abilities.”

Text in a side box:

"MEET YOUR MAKER “Full disclosure: Dragon Age has traditionally not done skin tones well, especially for people of color,” Busche says. “We wanted to do a make-good here.” In The Veilguard’s character creator, you can adjust the amount of melanin that comes through in the skin, as well as test various lighting scenarios to ensure your protagonist looks exactly as you intend in cutscenes. “Speaking of our first creative principle – be who you want to be – we really feel these are the kinds of features that unlock that for our players,” Busche says. “We want everyone to be able to see themselves in this game.” For the first time in the series, your body type is fully customizable too, with animations, armor and even romantic scenes reflecting your choices."

Image caption: “Your companions are a mix of old and new – Lace Harding is a familiar face. Veil Jumper Bellara is new, with a new occupation, while Davrin is a new face with a familiar profession – he’s a Warden.”

Image caption: "Arlathan Forest is home to the ruined city of the elves, now a place of wild magic, Veil Jumpers and (allegedly) spirits".

Image caption: "Bellara is driven by a desire to learn more about the elves, rediscovering the shattered history and magic of her people."

[source: Edge – The Future of Interactive Entertainment magazine, issue #401 (October 2024 issue) - it can be purchased online at [this link].]

[satyricplotter]

NSFW Alphabet — Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and Tim Drake

Be warned, I wrote this for myself but it got so long I was like, I gotta publish this, so a lot of the language is raunchy and joking. It's not polished whatsoever. It is also very fitted to my tastes, which isn't necessarily what I'd do for a story. Use of the second person, reader as gender neutral as I could, but I refer to a variety of scenarios with different genitalia.

WC: 6.7k

Triggers and tags discussed or mentioned: body image, biting, breeding, dubcon, noncon, cnc, mutual noncon, sexual assault (as a different category and a reference to Dick's canon) somnophilia, breath play, watersports, scat, blood, bondage, BDSM in general, pegging (implied), dildos, vibrators, toys in general, sensory deprivation, crying, crossdressing, porn, hentai, anal, PIV, cunnilingus, whatever the proper term for sucking dick is, cum, demeaning terms (cum dump, specifically), fingering, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, age play, pregnancy and birth control, thigh fucking, frottage, edging, cumming in pants... maybe more. I am tired of listing things. Simply beware.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dick: somehow I don't think he has much time for aftercare. To me this dude always seems a little on the go and distracted by other things. Like, half the sex you have with him is quickies where upon his departure you gotta tidy yourself up, or they're hours long affairs with few breaks to think about moving. In these latter instances, he takes a long, long time to stand up and get moving after you're done. I think he's always secretly waiting for another last round even when it's clear you're both tapped out. He stays in bed and cuddles, uncaring for the drying substances on either of you. Most often he just kisses you, slow and tender, as he holds you. Eventually you gotta kick him out of bed and clean yourself up and then he's rushing to help you.

Jason: my man is methodical. This is His Job and he has His Way to do it. He keeps his bed crisp, towels at hand, water nearby etc etc. He's always the one to wipe you down, straighten you up if there's still clothes involved. You always whine you wanna cuddle a bit and he's like no. You'll get an UTI. Go pee. We'll cuddle after. And you shuffle sadly to the bathroom. The sheets are new when you come back. He dislikes being rushed and not being able to tidy, so you gotta be very strategic when you know you won't end up in bed.

Tim: Tim's a baby. Tim's the one you gotta clean up, the one you gotta lay down and tell him to stay put. He's very bad with being in the moment if he's got something else going on, so you gotta keep all electronics away from him. Mostly you gather him in your arms and run his fingers through his hair, while he absently traces circles on your skin, and then nods off eventually.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Dick: I think Dick really likes his forearms! A dark horse, of course, considering the stellar butt, but that seems to be a little of a sour point. I think he loves his figure in general, and the graceful line of it. For his partners, I'm thinking the waist to hip area—the tummy essentially, but also the lower back. He loooves to sling an arm around your waist and squeeze, loves to nip at the lower belly, loves a good pinch. He just likes grabbing. The sides of your thighs are always marked with his fingers.

Jason: man's an ass guy. He loves to watch that shit bounce. You can't miss with the bending over. He's behind you immediately, a hand on your hip like hey... As for himself, genuinely I think he likes his hands. They've gone through a lot. You can tell they're pretty banged up. But he's a maker, a fiddler—he builds his gadgets, he pulls the trigger. He's so into precision, I think he appreciates them a lot for the tools they can be. And his fingers pumping in and out of you are never a bad sight.

Tim: He's a cop out and would say brain. He likes his eyes best, I think. He doesn't strike me as the type of man who fixates on any part of his body but rather takes it in as a whole, and as such finds it difficult to like, separate it into pieces unless it's for a specific purpose. Oh, maybe his calves. They're nicely shaped. But his eyes are very pretty and he knows they're charming. As for you, he likes tits (big, small, pecs, etc). Just the chest area in general. Big fan of a nipple. Will suck and bite and twist until you squirm. If you're not sensitive, you simply haven't met him. He'll pavlov your nipples to harden upon seeing him and then smile evilly when you complain. A low cut anything is a direct challenge and he will take it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Dick: nothing will stop this man from coming inside eventually. He'll wear you down talking about how good it will feel to fill you up, or you will eventually come to beg him for it and he'll take the opportunity with no complaint. If you can get pregnant, keep that birth control schedule TIGHT. Nothing he loves more than watching cum dribble out of you. Loves to stuff you with it, loves to rub it over your entrance, loves to watch it squelch as he goes back in to pump you full of more.

Jason: actually very normal about it. He doesn't believe in pulling out, so he wears a condom and disposes of it safely. He does love to cum on your face. That's very much a thing. It's a relatively safe thing to do, and he likes it a lot when you try to catch it all with your mouth but it ends up dripping off your cheek. When your eyelashes are sticky with it—ooh. He knows it hurts if it gets on your eyes, and he apologizes while he wipes it off, but he's already semi hard again so you can't quite believe him.

Tim: if he's topping, he's pretty normal about it. Doesn't feel any type of way about his own cum, though he kinda likes it when you mix it with your own and feed it to him, but that's mostly because he loves your fingers in his mouth. If you're topping (and if you can cum from that inside him), he's suddenly the nation's number one cump dump. Stuff my man up. He can take it. Ooh, he wants to take it. He really, really wants you to blow a load inside him. A lot of the times, it's the feeling of being filled up that has him coming himself.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Dick: he's, like, very into somno, but he hates to bring it up first. The thing with Dick is that he's so good at denying himself things he doesn't care about but the minute he really, really wants something, he struggles real hard not to go get it. And he really wants that pussy (gn). He's the king of guilty fucking. I honestly think he likes being a little ashamed of what he's doing, like it just... Brings flavour to the table. But he's an Upstanding Citizen so while he looks at your ass while you're asleep and imagines what it'd be like if he could just roll your pants down a little and rub the head of his dick against your entrance, he will not speak a word until you bring it up or you find him jerking off over you at the thought of it.

Jason: easiest man to get to sub for you. Doesn't look like it, doesn't wanna admit it, but you get him at the right moment? Oooh baby. He's so easy to unravel, blushing to the tips of his ears and wet all over. You can literally do whatever you like with him in that state. He bounces off your cock (gn) so pretty, though he doesn't enjoy bottoming regularly.

Tim: mfing stalker. He takes pictures of you all the fucking time. You don't know the half of it. And he jacks off to the weirdest shit because it's not so much about how you look in that picture, but the idea of your innocence being corrupted (so corny) (you'd look at it and be like, tim, I can take nudes, you know, you don't have to masturbate to a blurry panty shot taken under the dinner table, you can't even see shit).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dick: this is dick grayson we're talking about. Be real. He's been around. He knows his way around the human (and alien, shoutout to my baby Kori) body. Nine out of ten times, he's the most experienced person in the relationship. And not only does he know what he's doing , he's good at it.

Jason: there's about three universes or so where Jason's not a virgin when he meets you. The rest of them my boy's simply too fucked up and/or busy for love, so he just... Doesn't. It doesn't seem to me like having sex was a priority to him, and while I think he regularly gets propositioned, he's the type of dude that just blinks at you until you slink away in shame, so he simply doesn't get laid until he's in a relationship. At most he's fucked two people before he fucks you.

Tim: this is dick grayson 2.0. he pulled steph, he pulled kon, he pulled bernard. He has by far the widest breadth of knowledge about sex, although most of it doesn't come from first hand experience. He hasn't had that much freaky sex, but he knows plenty about it. He's very adventurous.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Dick: oh, eugh, this man think you're a contortionist. He thinks you guys are equals. It doesn't matter how much you tell him he's far more flexible than you, he loves twisting you up into the weirdest positions in the book, and you know what? He's right. You do feel him so much more with your leg up in space and the other one around his ankle.

Jason: doggy. Again, my man loves to watch it jiggle.

Tim: he loves being ridden. Just infatuated with the sight of his cock leaving and breaching your entrance, and your thighs quivering, and how it all gets so wet. I think he'd be more partial to the cowgirl/boy than the reverse bc tits, but yk. Loves to watch you go.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Dick: He's sooooo into getting a laugh out of you with a stupid joke so he can ram into you and watch it catch on your throat. Thinks it's grand. He's the goofiest of them all, but he likes to make you laugh, and doesn't entertain your attempts to be funny. There's only one clown in this bed ☝️ So annoying.

Jason: he can be giggly at the beginning, like laughing into your mouth, but once he gets going, he's pretty serious about it. Not withdrawn, but he doesn't want to joke or, like, have a conversation. He's just laser focused on getting you both off.

Tim: he's alright on the jokes, doesn't particularly bring it to the bedroom. He's a little snappy, but not keen on super goofing around? Rather, I think you'd wanna make him laugh, just to get him to relax, and he'd roll his eyes and scoff but smirk a little. (I'm rlly picturing this with kon rn lmao)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dick: he's got himself trimmed and pretty! I think he just cares about looking good. Not his main concern in life, but, you know.

Jason: he's kinda got to groom himself bc I headcanon that the pit let him some after effects so his nails and hair grows really fast. He doesn't like it, finds it a real chore, but it's like a real bush if he lets it go untamed. And he does it himself, of course.

Tim: I don't think Tim concerns himself much with that, but I also don't think he really needs it. He's the type not to grow that much hair anyway.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Dick: he is so romantic. He's the type to whisper things he doesn't mean, not because he's trying to gaslight you into thinking he has feelings, but because he gets caught up in the heat of the moment and also believes those things should be said. He's soft and coaxing, even when he gets mean, and he's very into small gestures in the sense that he holds your hand when you're going to come, he presses a kiss to your temple. Just loving, I guess, even if he doesn't, like, love you.

Jason: he is unbelievably, unbearably intense. You will not be able to shake him off, emotionally speaking. Even when he's trying not to be intense, he can't help it. There is always so much weight and deliberation to his touch. Under his fingers, you feel the skin of your body bloom with heat. And the eyes. Never stops looking. So sharp and heady. You can't look at him for you, but he forces you to look into his eyes when you're about to come, grabs your chin if you don't wanna.

Tim: it depends on how he feels about you. If it's casual sex, he is very casual about it. He's not one to make promises if they can be used against him lol but if he likes you... You can see the saw trap plans he's concocting in his mind to never get you off his dick again just coming alive in his eyes.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dick: My take is that dick is so funny about this because he so absurdly prefers coming inside you or fucking your thighs or your tits that whenever he can't and has to resort to jacking off, he's kind of churlish about it? Like right at the beginning when he's just starting, you'd just see him pouting with a hand caressing his shaft almost disinterestedly. He's so funny. Then he gets going and comes and is like oh that was a nice experience actually.

Jason: When he begins to jack off while thinking about you, he's ashamed about it for the longest time. It's not the act itself that brings him embarrassment, but the fact that he used to do it kind of perfunctorily, like just... body upkeep, or whatever. A little impatient with it even, just to get it over with. And he didn't think about anyone in particular, just flashes of the stuff he was supposed to think about. Then one day, after he meets you, he's just going at it as usual and the image of you pops into his head. And he can't stop thinking about it. The question of what you look like, how you'd feel under his hands, how you'd sound—it consumes him. When he thinks about you looking at him slouched over his couch, smiling at him and kneeling between his legs, your eyes fixed on him as you offer to help and take him into your mouth—oof. He's never come so much in his life.

Tim: he is so so hot about it. He doesn't think about it that much and is the type to neglect his dick for ages until he has free time and suddenly he has to unleash two weeks worth of cum upon you. So he starts fisting his dick, shuddering at the feeling of finally getting some release, and thinks, I should share this, and starts recording, but because he is evil, he doesn't let you see. He places the phone on his desk (because he's STILL working, he just couldn't hold it any longer), and begins jacking off under his shirt. So you only see his flushed cheeks, the hair covering his eyes, and the way the wet spot on the fabric grows larger and larger as he goes. Near the end that thing's so transparent and sticky you can almost see the angry red head every time it pushes against the fabric—and then he splutters against the fabric with a cry of your name and doesn't even let it dry before he winks at the camera and cuts the video, just as he's going to lift the shirt. Evil.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dick: well, I already said somno and breeding (I don't think he's into it for the children, like, seriously. Like if you can get pregnant and do, it's not going to be a nice surprise. He'll ride it out! But he's got commitment issues.) And thigh fucking. He's unbearable about it, particularly if you're wearing anything that gives him easy access.

Jason: My good honest man. He likes sense deprivation, I think, but he likes it being done to him. He's almost never not being in charge, however, so it doesn't come up often. If almost like a birthday special to him. He's also very into frottage, but I don't know if that counts as a kink? He likes coming in his pants a few times before the real deal.

Tim: is this a kink? He loves to make you cry. He just really likes bullying you to the point you're bawling. You can fuss and kick all you want, and it just turns him on, because the minute he removes himself, you're whining to have him again. I think that's his favourite way to make you cry, just to edge you unendingly until you're sobbing for him. He also likes age play, but he likes to play the younger part. I don't think quite mommy/daddy stuff (depends on the reader), but a bit of an emphasis on the age gap (think the blurry noona/hyung area in korean, when employed sexually. The terms are not translatable but that's the spirit of it).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Dick: everywhere. Does not discriminate. Inside the house, I think he likes bothering you when you're chilling in the couch. If your lying down there, he'll starts running up a hand between your thighs and he'll stop if you can't carry on the conversation. Outside, I think anywhere that is mildly risky—possibly the park? Kinda loves shoving you between trees and eating you out, or fingering you. When he comes onto you outside, it's mostly to get you to come so you have to hang out there, all sticky, thinking of him. He gets really thrilled by you running out of patience and pulling him out of whatever situation you're in just so you can go home and fuck. Sometimes you don't even make it home. You "force" him to fuck in a bathroom or in the car — closest relatively enclosed space you can find. He really enjoys those releases.

Jason: the bed. Give my boy his space and his nightstands! But outside that, no joke, the kitchen. It's more often than not his kitchen rather than yours, so he's there most often and it's where you find him and put your hands on him. Also god forbid you take anything out of the oven. He just shows up, takes it from your hands, presses you against the counter.

Tim: no joke loves to have you suck him off underneath his desk. He thinks it's funny when you bang your head against the top lmao but he also just likes to see you cramped into a tiny space and all over him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dick: Hear me out. He likes implied corruption masked as salvation. That sounds dramatic: what he likes is the tension between helping you and succumbing to his own desires. He is very often the more knowledgeable, powerful, etc party, he almost always has some advantage over you, and he likes struggling against the feeling of giving you what you want and thereby taking advantage of you. It's a weird, false dichotomy, but he likes playing the hero a lot, and that makes him feel sometimes like what he wants is selfish, which means he tends to be secretive and manipulative in order to get it, and he winds up doing stuff that is suspicious and much closer to taking advantage of you than just being upfront would've been. And he unfortunately really enjoys those times. I associate him a lot with the "I can't help myself from doing this" sentiment. So to answer the question lol, when you look particularly put together and he gets to mess it up, or when you look at him with big, round eyes, or when you look really fuckable and are not aware of it, he really likes that.

Jason: He's a slow goer. You have to seduce him. He likes the motion of that, likes having you come onto him, likes it when you're flirty and a little risqué just for his benefit. Likes when you're self assured, and when you're a little mean with him. He could watch you forever, but to really make him spring into action, you gotta tell him how badly you need him. That'll bring him to your side in a minute.

Tim: milfs. No joke. I think he's pretty attracted to cheery people he can make fun of. Oh, he really likes riling you up. That shit gets him fired up in a second. You're arguing with him and he's got to adjust in his pants, and he won't go down without a fight. He really, really likes bullying you lol He thinks it's so hot when you're annoyed

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Dick: no watersports/scat/blood (vampire universe exempt), and so on and so forth. It's a bit silly that he gets grossed out by it when he's so into cum, but, you know. Another thing is, he can't really be demeaning. It's not that he doesn't want to, but it never... hits? Like, he's unauthentic about it, in a way, and he's much better at praise. So it's not that he won't do it, but that it's a little mid lol

Jason: I don't think he can do CNC. Even if you really wanna, he just can't play the part without going limp. It's not in him to do that to you. He can't bear to hear you plead with him over that, it makes him feel gross and uncomfortable. He'll talk bad to you if you wanna, though.

Tim: breath play. He doesn't like the feeling of his airways being cut off even when he's at his most mindless, it always kickstarts his survival mode, and he can't choke you either because he doesn't trust himself to stop.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dick: my good man #1 pussy (gn) eater in the house. He will be there hours. His poor cock will weep unendingly and he doesn't give a single fuck. Matter of fact, that first load after he finally slides into you? Best part of the job. Would not like it half as much without the various orgasms he drew out of you. And he's good at it, obviously. Practiced. I think he's also a decent cock sucker (what an image), but he's way more practiced with a pussy.

Jason: he also likes giving more than receiving, but he is soooooo hot when he lets you suck him off. It's the way he can barely hold back, how he falls apart in your mouth. The way his hands fist your hair despite himself, the way he weighs on your tongue. You have to beg him to let you suck him off first, but christ, if it ain't a gift when he acquiesces.

Tim: receiving, I think. I love to think about him sucking a dick, though. Very pretty. But in general, I think he prefers to be sucked off rather than being the one to give. He's fine at it! And he's not one to shy away from it if you wanna, or offer it when in the mood, but he thinks he's better with his fingers anyway, and he wants his mouth free for your nipples.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Dick: he tends to go more for the slow and sensual. It's part of the romantic vein of his style. He gets really close to you. He is also evil and very rarely loses control of himself, so he will fuck you however he wants, not how you beg him to, and because he's got so much experience, he usually has the better idea of how to get you to come.

Jason: i love him. Can't go slow. Okay, technically, he can, but he's got to work really hard at it. He just likes being inside you so much, he slips into that excitement too easily. His way of fucking is very bruising, very felt, much like his feelings. And again. My man loves to watch it jiggle.

Tim: he's the one man who will listen to how you want it. Mostly because he likes being ridden so you're setting the pace. He usually goes for slower rhythms, though, and if he's toying with you, he goes excruciatingly slow. Also knows to speed up exactly when your patience is about to snap.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Dick: again, half the sex he has is quickies so yeah, he likes them lol. I do think they appeal to him as an expression of unbridled want, in the sense of we want each other so much we have no time to savour one another and we still can't help ourselves from having a fleeting taste.

Jason: he dislikes not having time and space to do everything he wants to do, so he is mostly opposed to them. And he is very good at waiting, though the longer he waits, the longer you end up spending in the bedroom. He's also pretty big so he wants to have the room, time wise, to prep you to take him so the slide is easy and pleasurable for you, and the quickies don't afford him the space for that. He'll do it if you come to him real wet, though.

Tim: he thinks they're fun but he's very bad at them in the sense that once he starts doing you, he is very disgruntled that he has to stop. And he always fucking forgets it so he needles you to let him stick the tip in real quick, c'mon, just five minutes and we're done, and then you're having to bite down on his shoulder to pry him away from you before whoever you're waiting for comes in. And he likes the biting, so it's 50/50 whether he actually comes off.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Dick: yep. He's a little more conservative with what he's willing to try, and he doesn't like everything or want to implement it regularly, but he's very open to at least trying it ou. He doesn't come up with a lot of stuff himself, and he doesn't spend time researching on his own, but he'll see something interesting and bring it up next time if he decides he likes it enough to play out.

Jason: Jason has... categories. He's very intuitive when it comes to sex. He kind of already knows what he likes and can go off that knowledge to predict what he will like or not. And he's good at making modifications on things he finds uninteresting to better suit his needs, if you still wanna try. He doesn't like roleplaying in general, for example, but he will pretend you're both strangers so you can pick him up at the bar. Likes bringing you to the bathroom stalls and fucking you there.

Tim: oh yeah. He reads a lot. He's very curious. He'll go on the internet and read manuals, read reviews, take tests, etc. He's also much more likely to fixate on a certain kink for a period of time, or to genuinely incorporate it to his regular sexual life.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Dick: mr. first robin have been a vigilante since i was nine, have never not exercised, etc etc. Yeah. He ain't stopping.

Jason: the fucking pit. He keeps dying and coming back and it's like they pump more cum in his balls every time. Enough said.

Tim: see mr. grayson. I don't know how the spleen affects him, but I doubt he lets it hold him back. He will stop you after a while if you're topping tho. Doesn't like to be sore much. Which doesn't mean he'll stop altogether, you know, he still has a dick.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Dick: he hates your dildo. He's horribly, terribly jealous of it. At first he'd use it to tease you, but then he liked you for real and that thing became his sworn enemy. He despises the fact that he's away so much you have to resort to using it, basically, so it'll always kind of have a place in your bed. He resent a vibrator even more. It's super fucking funny to me. He's game for everything else that doesn't fuck you tho.

Jason: Jay likes gadgets for their ingenuity but I don't really see them coming up too often. A few restraints, blindfolds, maybe a cock ring? He'd like them better if you used some on him rather than him using them on you. He prefers to do the work with his hands and mouth and cock. Good honest work

Tim: I think Tim's game on toys for either participant. He'll make you watch him fuck himself onto a tentacle-shaped dildo, if that's something you're into, and he won't let you touch him. He's a terror with a vibrator, though, particularly if you have a clit? Dude. A remote operated vibe. Anal plugs with tails attached. A fucking machine? Get away from that man. When I say saw trap, I mean it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Dick: horrible. He is awful. Worst of all because he's also so very sweet, and tender, and he plays the fool to lower your guard, and then you're lying there, gasping around his cock for the umpteenth time because he will not let you come yet and nothing you say breaks his nerve, and he just. taunts you. He's also soooooo into walking around looking delectable and playing dumb about it. Sure, man.

Jason: this one is on me, but I love a reader who's just off-handedly disrespectful to him. I always pair him with the brats lol I think he handles that well, by which I mean he strips it down to bone raw frankness which is heady and intimidating (metaphorically, I mean, but also strips down as in naked, I guess). He's quippy, also, as a general rule, but that's two way banter so I don't count it.

Tim: horrible part 2. See: loves to make you cry. See: Loves using toys on you. See: loves torturing you. His nudes are not even explicit, they're just suggestive, but you know intimately what he looks like, so the mere suggestion is enough to drive you mad. And then his fascination with you is never ending. It's a cocktail for great and tortuous diversion.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Dick: soooo talkative this man will not shut up. You're like, my man, you've been speaking for two hours straight, doesn't your throat need any lubrication? And he's like, you're right and swallows when you come. He's a moaner, I think, but not any louder than average. Will play it up if he sees the neighbour eyeing you in the hallway tho lol

Jason: Grunts and gasps and overall very throaty. He murmurs a lot of stuff into your skin. He's not loud, but his voice is a spear right down your groin. He likes speaking against your ear and sometimes it's all you hear. If you top him, and with some very precise loosening, you can get him moaning so so pretty, but it's pretty rare.

Tim: bitch has the most obscene little whimpers. It activates apex predator instinct on you immediately, like a switch being flipped. It's impossible not to bite him when he starts giving the short, breathy moans. Sounds so needy, and when he gets like that, he can barely string a sentence together, which is just mind blowing considering who he is.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Dick: I think Dick has a COMPLICATED relationship with his body. Perhaps it's me projecting a little because I cannot imagine being such a beautiful man and being able to cope with it. First vector to the issue is the fact that this man knows his body from the tip of his toes to the last strand of hair on his head. He is much more in touch with every muscle in his body than the vaaaast majority lf the world, and he has been so since very early in his life. You know that quote from Ursula K. Le Guin, I think, about how dogs don't really conceptualise their size, and cats are the complete opposite, they know exactly where they begin and end and that's why they seem like water sometimes? And then she says dancers also know exactly what they look like, because what they look like is what they do. And that's exactly him, as an acrobat and as a vigilante both. And though he doesn't care much for it, he also knows exactly how well he is regarded for possessing the body that he does. It is flattering, yes, but it is objectifying also. There's not so much the worry that people won't look any deeper than his looks because well, most of the time he doesn't want them to look, and also his loved ones regularly bypass his handsomeness and treat him as a person, so he knows he can live beyond that. Then there is the matter of his continued sexual assault at the hands of Catalina, and the subsequent objectification she subjected him to for the weeks following that first time at the rooftop, which would irrevocably change his relationship to his body. I don't think she ruins it for him, but he does develop, like, a very deep awareness of the power he holds and how easily that can be taken away. There's a lot of deliberation behind his every move, and when he cannot put that much thought into his actions, he freaks. It's also kinda why I headcanon him being so enthralled by so many dub-conish situations, I think it provides him with a playground in which he can explore the extents of his desires and what acting on them means while acknowledging the harm they may create, thus liberating him from the pressure of the worry or the not engaging altogether. I think an instance of mutual non consent (or plain noncon of you, but I don't think most versions of him have it in them) would absolutely obliterate him, and do a lot of bad to his psyche in a way Jay and Tim could withstand much better. He'd think it a moral failure, in a way the other two could resolve, but he'd never forgive himself. It's a point of no return, for Grayson.

Jason: he finds porn really distasteful. He would honest to god rather pay to watch two people go at it than look at a film. He just can't appreciate it for what it is—the stories are corny, the dialogue is cringe, etc etc. I genuinely think my man is on the aspec to some level. He's got a healthy libido, he likes having sex, but it's very person specific. I suppose I'd say demisexual, but I do think he can have casual sex but it's a VERY rare thing for him to feel sexual attraction like that right from the get go.

Tim: he enjoys cross dressing, but he won't go out like that. It's a very personal thing, to him. He strikes me as a dabbler in genderfluidity. If there's something there, he doesn't really care to examine it. He's good at being a man and he's comfortable with it, too, so there's that. But with you, he can just try it out. Of course it's fun to fuck you with a skirt on, but it's not a sex-based thing. And, unrelated but he watches hentai unironically because man's a weeb.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I don't rlly understand this question sbhdhd all those suits are skin tight I think you can tell. I assume this is about cock size cuz we all know Dick's got an ass and Jason's vice president of the perfect titties club with nic coughlan so.

Dick: I think he's a little bigger than usual but nothing that'd give you pause. Well, maybe a little. It's enough to think "that's just unfair" but not to be appalled. Very pretty. Leans slightly to the left. It's got some heft to it, but I wouldn't comment on its girth, and it's very expressive (shshdj?). It twitches a lot, is what I mean.

Jason: fat. So so fat. Fat, heavy, and uncut. Coupled with his full bush—instantly mouthwatering. This one does make you blink a couple times in astonishment. The type that makes you say I don't know if I can't take this but by god, I'm gonna try. He probably has to prep you a decent amount before you can both be comfortable with him inside you. It really fills you up, though and the stretch is craaaazy. Also good balls.

Tim: perfectly average length, longer than it is girthy. Oddly straight. Stupidly pink. Rosy as fuck. Looks like he paid for someone to do his blush this morning, etc. Circumcised. The head is perfect, you always fall for it when he asks you to let him put in just the tip because you like it so much.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Dick: high, like, a bit of a concern type of high. The thing with him is you get him started and you both got time? That's your day. Good fucking luck getting out of there. And then he's the sort of man that can't quite keep his hands to himself also, so it spirals pretty fast because it's hard not to want him when you know he's good and tasty and ready for you.

Jason: Pretty normal. He will be the one to say no, let's just cuddle a couple of times. I think he likes the moment of non-sexual affection a bit more, though they are not in competition. He's got a healthy libido and a fuckton of stamina, so it may seem like a lot at times. He'll fall hook line and sinker every time you set out to seduce him, but he'll drag out the start a lot. He's a fan of foreplay anyway.

Tim: Tim can go weeks without having sex if he's got something to be absorbed in. He'll forgo having sex if necessary, as well, even though he likes it lots. It's kind of how like people forget to eat or drink while they're working and then when they look up and realize they haven't eaten since breakfast and it's 8pm they're ravenous. That's Tim. He will blink and the onslaught of pent up horniness will hit him, and he's like, oh I gotta fuck you for several days straight now. You kinda have to needle him to fuck otherwise if he's got a project going on, and he always stops a moment to get you bouncing on his lap, but you're done and he goes right back to work. When he's got free time, he's such a damn distraction, though. God forbid you don't have any time for him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dick: Depends on how tired he's feeling. He usually really refuses to go and its kinda cute seeing him fight with himself when his eyelids are dropping and he's barely kissing you anymore

Jason: he stays awake waaaay past you, likes to watch you as you sleep against him or beside him

Tim: very, but again, you gotta cradle him and lull him

[megalony]

Baby-Trapped - Part 3

Here is the latest part in my Evan Buckley series, thank you all for the amazing feedback and the ideas which have helped me keep going with this series so thank you.

Feel free to send in any more ideas and let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) distances herself from Evan when the people at her college believe he shouldn't be with someone younger and inexperienced like her. But things change when she falls pregnant.

Enjoy.

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"I do believe that's mine." Folding his arms over his chest, Evan grinned and crossed one leg in front of the other as he leant against the wall.

His eyes drifted up and down (Y/n)'s frame a few times and he felt his heart jumping in his chest when she tilted her head back and looked over her shoulder at him with wide eyes. He loved the way her lips parted in surprise and she froze, caught red handed.

(Y/n) turned away from the mirror in the corner of the room and looked across at Evan like a deer caught in the headlights. But the way he smiled at her and didn't hide the lust in his eyes made adrenaline pool in her stomach.

She glanced down and looked up and down her attire which Evan was referring to.

She was wearing his shirt.

It took a few seconds for (Y/n) to tear her gaze away from Evan who looked so casual leant up against the wall. His short-sleeved shirt showing off the tattoos littering his biceps which were tense and taut. And his work shirt clung to his chest and showed off every ridge and crevace.

Turning her head, (Y/n) looked back at the reflection staring at her in the mirror. She was wearing a pair of black leggings and Evan's white button up shirt with vertical beige stripes all over. The shirt hung limply off her shoulders and hung down near her knees due to the height difference between the couple, but Evan would admit she looked great in his clothes.

"Why're you stealing my stuff, hm?" Pushing off the wall, Evan padded across the carpet until he was stood behind (Y/n).

He looped both arms around her neck and leaned down to kiss the top of her head while (Y/n) gave his forearm a squeeze.

Evan loved her wearing his clothes. He thought she looked amazing in any of his things. Especially his shirts that she went to sleep in or his hoodies when she was cold. But she was going to class now. Evan wasn't used to seeing (Y/n) go to college wearing his clothes. She usually wore his stuff when they were lounging about at home or when she wanted to wind Evan up.

"I thought it might help… but I don't think I can pass unnoticed anymore." (Y/n) trailed her hands down from Evan's arms to cup her stomach wistfully.

She hoped wearing something of Evan's might do her image a little good. That because his clothes were always baggy on her, (Y/n) could get away with another week or two of going to class and not showing that she was pregnant.

Not that it really mattered either way because Sandra had told the entire campus and (Y/n) had to tell their class teacher, just to be safe in case anything happened. Everyone in their class knew the rumours and (Y/n) wasn't embarrassed, but she liked sitting in class and not having a reason for people to stare.

When she started to show, people were going to stare and (Y/n) hated being the centre of attention. Unless it was Evan's attention she was getting.

"Good."

A gentle smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when Evan loosened his arms from around her waist and moved his hands down to her stomach. And she tilted her head back into his chest and giggled softly when he raked her shirt up and bunched it just below her bra so he could see her stomach.

His fingertips tickled her skin as he moved his palms to cup her stomach and started to draw patterns into her stomach.

They were just about twenty weeks along now and (Y/n) was properly beginning to show.

Evan was infatuated.

He loved the new shape of her stomach and the fact that her shape proved they were going to have a baby. He was bouncing off the walls, waiting to feel the baby move and start to feel them kicking.

"I wanna see our baby and show them off." Evan tilted his head to the right and attached his lips to (Y/n)'s neck which made a shiver course down her spine.

He grinned against her skin and dragged his teeth along her neck when (Y/n) kissed his temple. And he felt her hands move down to cup his wrists as she leaned back into him. This was what made it worth it. (Y/n) knew she would be able to handle the stares at college and any remarks people threw at her. Because at the end of the day, she was coming home to Evan and they were both desperate to have this baby. That was all that mattered.

"Babe?"

"Hm?" Evan opened his eyes enough to lock gazes with (Y/n) in the mirror so she knew he was listening. Before he closed his eyes again and went back to biting her neck.

"I think we can find out the gender today… what do you want me to do? Should I wait?"

(Y/n) almost felt bad when Evan groaned into her neck and pulled her back into his chest with his palms flat against her stomach. He was on shift today until late tonight and he couldn't get a shift swap so he could go along to the scan today.

The only bright side Evan had was this wasn't (Y/n)'s first scan. He had been to her first two scans with her and had heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time. Missing this scan was going to grate on his nerves and play on his mind, but it wasn't as bad as not being there for the first one or being there if (Y/n) was unwell.

But (Y/n) knew they would be able to find out the gender today and they had both agreed that they wanted to know before the birth. If Evan wasn't going to be there with her, (Y/n) wanted to know if she should wait until he was at their next scan to find out.

"I could surprise you, do a gender reveal just for you, if you like."

(Y/n) knew the moment Evan grinned into her neck that he liked the sound of that. And she felt his tongue dart across the mark he'd just bitten into her neck, soothing the slight burn he'd created beneath her skin.

She could find out the gender today and get something to do a little gender surprise for Evan. They had already said they didn't want a gender reveal party or anything like that. (Y/n) didn't even want a baby shower. They would tell the station and their family the gender when they found out, but it wasn't going to be a special occasion or anything like that.

"Okay baby, you surprise me." Evan moved one hand to cup the side of (Y/n)'s face and he tilted her head in his direction to get a kiss.

His tongue swiped at her lower lip, begging for entrance while his right hand started tracing letters and aimless swirls across (Y/n)'s stomach until she was squirming against him.

"Are we going now, then?" (Y/n) kissed him again and sucked on his lower lip before she pulled out of his arms and rolled his shirt back down over her stomach.

But her eyes rolled and she huffed when Evan leaned down and yanked the shirt back up again and pulled her closer by her hips. Her hands fell to his shoulders and she could of swooned, feeling her knees buckling when Evan leaned down and attached his lips to her stomach.

"We'll be late." Her fingers dragged through Evan's hair and she ruffled his curls, brushing them back on his head.

(Y/n) knew by now that it was pointless to tell Evan he didn't have to drop her off at college. He wanted to and (Y/n) loved the fact that he wanted to take her and pick her up and look after her. And it was easier than walking down there and working up a sweat. And morning sickness didn't combine well with a long walk from home down to college since (Y/n) was now officially moved in with Evan.

"Remember Maddie's picking you up later." Evan straightened up and pecked her temple while he curved his arm around her waist and walked behind her towards the stairs.

"Babe I can get the bus to the hospital, it's only ten minutes away." Evan dropping her anywhere was different, but (Y/n) didn't want to start bothering anyone else. And she didn't want Maddie to feel obligated or like she had to take her anywhere.

"No, Maddie's taking you. She's excited."

(Y/n) nodded and rolled the shirt back down, again, and smoothed it out around her thighs as they headed downstairs. She wouldn't refuse a lift if Maddie was happy and willing to take her, as long as she wasn't putting Maddie out of her way or ruining her day.

And it would be good to have some company at her scan, (Y/n) didn't want to go to that alone.

***

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) looped her bag higher on her shoulder and pushed ahead out the classroom door.

She was never usually the first to leave but today, (Y/n) didn't care. She wanted to go. She was a mixture of bundled nerves of excitement and panicked nerves that people were looking at her.

Arriving on campus had felt fine, it had felt great in fact, because Evan had dropped her off and he had put up a fight to get her to stay in the car and give him 'just one more kiss'. He boosted her spirits and as she left the car, (Y/n) could still feel his fingertips touching all over her stomach and she could hear his voice in her ear telling her she looked great. She looked sexy. Pregnant was a good look on her. He was addicted to her.

His words made (Y/n) feel elated and she made it to class feeling happy with herself and how she looked.

Sitting with Tina through both classes had been fine right up until (Y/n) could see Sandra aiming for them.

She didn't want to hang around and hear whatever slurrs or insults she decided to throw at her today. (Y/n) made sure she was the first out the classroom so she could leave campus before anyone tried to talk to her or Sandra tried to insult her.

Her eyes dithered between the hall and the corridor on her left and after a split second, (Y/n) turned left and sprinted to the girl's toilets.

It was a relief that the toilets were empty.

(Y/n) slumped her bag down on the cubicle floor, kicked the door shut behind her and crouched down just in time to throw up her lunch. It would be best not to tell Evan she had thrown up again when she next spoke to him. He wouldn't be pleased and he would start to worry. (Y/n) didn't want to worry him while he was on shift.

She would make sure she ate something substantial for tea and had some fruit and sugar to boost her system.

A groan tumbled past her lips and her knees shook as she slowly tried to push herself back up when she was done throwing up. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and rummaged around in her bag for the chewing gum she stole from Evan for this very reason.

Leaning her back up against the cubicle, (Y/n) chewed the gum and sighed quietly to herself.

Her hands moved down to cup her stomach and she glared down as if she could see through her stomach to the baby that was making her body this disorientated. But as (Y/n) danced her hands around her small bump, she huffed and dropped her arms down. It didn't feel the same as when Evan touched her stomach. It didn't feel as good.

She put the gum in the bin and hooked her bag over her shoulder but when she walked out the cubicle, she gasped and stumbled on her back foot.

Carla.

One of Sandra's cronies was leaning against the cubicle wall with her hands clasped behind her back and a sickly sweet smile on her face. She wasn't as bad as Sandra, but (Y/n) didn't get along with any of their little cliché. Carla was nosey, she was the one going round telling everyone that (Y/n) was dating an older man

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Bypassing Carla, (Y/n) quickly washed her hands and moved towards the door. She wasn't hanging around for an insult.

"So it's true then. Should I say congratulations?"

Carla caught the door before it slammed in her face and she hurried to keep up the pace with (Y/n) who stormed down the hall. She wanted to leave. She had to hurry up and see if Maddie was outside so they could get to the appointment on time. (Y/n) was tempted to just run straight to the bus stop and be done with everyone here if it would get her out of this conversation any quicker.

"Does your fireman know yet? Must be a shock, being tied down to you-"

"I think my fella knows by now, don't you?" Stopping in her tracks, (Y/n) turned to the left and looked at Carla with raised brows. She moved her hands down and cupped her stomach, pressing Evan's shirt down into her waist so her bump was evident.

Evan would have to be pretty distant, clueless or pain silly if he didn't know by now that (Y/n) was pregnant. Not that it was anyone's business but theirs, but (Y/n) was tired. She was tired of the questions and the looks and the petty remarks.

No more loose clothes. No more worrying. They can all see what they like.

If they were all so interested, (Y/n) would revert back to wearing her clothes and only wear Evan's clothes when she had nothing else that fit or when she wanted to tease him in the bedroom. She would come to class in her tight, stretchy tops that showed off her stomach. She would wear her jeans and smile when they didn't zip up over her bump anymore.

She wouldn't look or panic if the girls could see Evan dropping her off at college. And she would smile and feel her heart ignite when he attached himself to her and whisper how sexy he thought she looked.

If they were this interested, (Y/n) would let them all stare. It would be better and much easier than trying to explain herself when she didn't have to.

This was her baby and she was happy to be having Evan's baby, there was no reason for (Y/n) to feel worried or embarrassed about what people would say.

"Go bother someone else Carla, I'm busy." With that being said, (Y/n) pushed ahead and hurried out the doors onto campus.

She wasn't sure what type of car she was supposed to be looking for. Evan neglected to mention what car his sister drove and (Y/n) suddenly felt too awkward to try and ring Maddie and ask if she was here and what car to look out for. But her panic was all for nothing when she got towards the drop off lane just outside the campus.

(Y/n) could easily see a familiar face grinning through the window and a hand waving and beckoning her over. Problem solved.

Hurrying over, (Y/n) opened the door and slid down into the passenger seat. It was a change to have to lean down to get into Maddie's car rather than how she had to hike up to get into Evan's jeep.

Evan had started joking that in another two months or less, he was going to have to start lifting (Y/n) in and out of the jeep.

She hoped that wasn't going to be the case.

"Hi." (Y/n) smiled softly and placed her bag down in between her feet, forcing herself not to look out the window in case any of the girls were looking. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they were upsetting her. They couldn't bring down (Y/n)'s mood. Not today.

"Hey, are we ready?" Maddie reached across and gave (Y/n)'s thigh a squeeze before she pulled away from the curb.

Her smile was enough to brighten (Y/n)'s mood and make her feel more at ease and comfortable. She had been surprised how quickly Maddie had taken to her and accepted her as a sister. (Y/n) thought it would of been harder than this to win her over, knowing how close she and Evan were.

"You didn't have to do this, you know." (Y/n)'s voice was soft and quiet as she looked across at Maddie.

She wanted her to know she was grateful for the lift, she wasn't taking this for granted. (Y/n) didn't expect Maddie to take her anywhere, she wasn't used to having siblings or a close family connection like Evan had with his team. It was strange, but it was also lovely to meet people and find she could talk to them and maybe even rely on them.

"I told Buck I'd be happy to drop you off or pick you up. Besides, we're not having you walk all that way to the doctors, we need to look after you."

A spark of adrenaline fluttered to life in (Y/n)'s stomach and she dipped her head down, glancing at her stomach for a few seconds. She was very lucky. (Y/n) couldn't begin to imagine what it would feel like if her fears had come true and Evan's friends and family thought of her the same way the girls in her class seemed to think of her.

It didn't take them long to get to the hospital and (Y/n) sucked in a deep breath, trying to hide her smile when Maddie looped their arms together as they walked inside.

When they headed into the maternity ward and sat down in the waiting room, (Y/n) turned to look at the elder girl.

"Would… would you come into the scan with me? I don't wanna go in on my own."

She could see the surprise on Maddie's face, but it was as if she started to melt. Her brown eyes softened and her cheeks puffed up as she smiled and reached across to take (Y/n)'s hand.

"Of course I will."

(Y/n) had been into both her other scans with Evan. She didn't fancy going in on her own. She wanted someone there by her side to share the joy and the anticipation and help her feel calm.

Maddie ran her hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm for a few seconds since their arms were still locked together. But when she looked (Y/n) up and down, her smile changed into a smirk and she trailed her fingertips over (Y/n)'s shoulder and gave her collar a small tug.

"I thought I recognised that shirt." She muttered softly. She realised after a few seconds that it was Evan's shirt. That was why it looked so familiar and hung off of (Y/n)'s frame like she had shrunk and lost weight. But it did suit her. It made (Y/n) look a little small but very fashionable.

"Doesn't really hide it, does it?" (Y/n) murmured wistfully, moves her hands up and down her bump.

But she grinned when Maddie leaned over her and dared to rub her hand up and down her stomach for a few seconds.

"You don't have to hide, you're not a teenager, you've got nothing to be worried about. You look lovely, show it off."

"Evan said something similar."

It was only college and the girls in her class that were making (Y/n) uneasy about showing off her stomach. But she could feel her resolve ebbing away each day and Carla had topped it off today. (Y/n) didn't have to hide. She wasn't a young girl still in school wondering how she was going to bring up a child.

(Y/n) was in college and she was nearly done with her degree. She was in a stable relationship with someone she loved. She and Evan lived together, they were happy and they were doing this together. There was no reason for (Y/n) to feel worried or ashamed. Other girls on campus already had children and were taking their degrees at the same time.

And all the timing was working out. If (Y/n) passed her classes and got her degree on time, she would be done with college just before the baby was born. Then she could have some time off before she found herself a job at the hospital or a local doctor's office. (Y/n) could have her degree, have some time to herself to be with Evan and their baby and then get a job and be in the swing of things.

When her name was called out, the girls got up together and walked through after the nurse.

It didn't take long to run through the usual little tasks when they got in there. (Y/n) hopped on the scales, answered a few questions and then rolled her shirt up and tucked it into her bra so the midwife could check and measure her stomach.

"That all looks in order, shall we take a look at baby?"

(Y/n) kept her shirt rolled up and she smiled softly when she realised Maddie was looking over at her stomach.

She sat up on the bed and was grateful when Maddie took her hand and stood beside her. Both their eyes locked on the monitor and (Y/n) gave Maddie's hand a squeeze when the grainy grey and black image appeared on the screen.

It had been the plan for Evan and (Y/n) to get a scan photo, find a good frame and give it to Maddie as a present. That was how they were going to tell her she was going to be an auntie. That all went up in the air when (Y/n) wasn't well and (Y/n) still hated how Maddie found out, even if she had still been so excited and thrilled when she found out. Their original plan would have been much better.

But having Maddie here to witness the scan felt like they were making up for that failed plan and it made (Y/n) feel better.

"Oh, look." Maddie pressed her free hand to her chest and tilted her head to one side as she looked lovingly at the screen. That was her little niece or nephew. That was the child Maddie was going to spoil when they arrived. That would be the baby she would parade around and tell everyone was her little brother's first child.

She would take them out shopping and to play centres and to the cinema and on little dates out and about. Maddie would do anything and everything for them and she just knew they were going to have a much more loving and fulfilling home than what her and Evan had grown up with.

Maddie had tried to make sure Evan had felt loved and appreciated when he was growing up. She became his mother rather than his sister and she knew Evan was going to make sure his child knew he loved them to the end of the Earth. He would do everything for them that Maddie had done for him.

"Baby is a healthy size, and everything looks to be in order. Do you want to know the gender, or is it a surprise?"

"Can we know, please?"

(Y/n) gave Maddie's hand another squeeze and leaned up on her elbows, unable to look back at the monitor. Her gaze was solely focused on her stomach as she waited to know if she was going to be having a baby boy or a girl.

"Okay… it's a baby girl, congratulations."

A shiver coursed down (Y/n)'s spine while her lips curled into a wide smile. It was a little strange to hear a sincere congratulations after Carla's little remark earlier, but (Y/n) couldn't focus on that anymore.

She was having a girl. She was going to see Evan with a daughter in his arms. He was going to spoil her rotten. (Y/n) knew he had secretly been hoping for a little girl, although seeing him with a boy would have been a treat to see if a baby boy would look and take after him.

"A niece!" Maddie whispered triumphantly as she gave a small tug on (Y/n)'s hand and squinted at the monitor.

Sitting herself up, (Y/n) cleaned the gel from her stomach and slowly rolled her shirt back down. She gratefully took the scan copies the midwife printed, barely listening to her say about her next appointment in three weeks. All she could think about was going home and waiting for Evan to come home so she could tell him.

How was she going to tell him? What would be the best way to surprise him with this?

She looped her arm back through Maddie's as they walked out the room, both in a daze, staring at the scan photos they each had in their hands.

"Oh, Buck's going to be so excited. How are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know, I wanna surprise him somehow… what do you think?"

(Y/n) had never seen such a grin spread over Maddie's face and she seemed to pick up the pace as she steered them both back towards the car.

"I think we need to go shopping."

***

"What about this?"

Turning to the left, (Y/n) looked across at Maddie to see what she was holding out.

The pair of them had gone into town to look for a few things to get for the baby. (Y/n) had decided on doing a little gift bag for Evan with a few items inside to surprise him with the fact that they were having a girl. And so far, (Y/n) had found a dusty pink knitted blanket with roses stitched into each corner. She decided that once they'd settled on a name, she would embroider the name onto the blanket to make it more personalised.

Maddie had already found a lovely pair of purple dolly shoes. They just needed a few more things and then they would be all set to surprise Evan.

(Y/n) looked over to see what Maddie had found and she couldn't help the wide grin that spread across her face when she read it.

It was a men's large, jet black shirt with a circle of flowers in middle and 'Girl Dad!' written in cursive across the centre. It was a novelty shirt but it was definitely something Evan would wear and it would be a dead giveaway that they were having a baby girl.

"That's perfect."

Maddie looped the shirt over her arm and did a quick sweep round the shop and moved towards the baby clothing. "What about some of the Disney stuff?" They both knew Evan was a sucker for Disney movies so a little outfit would be perfect to add to the gift.

(Y/n) held the basket out so Maddie could place the shirt and shoes in there and smiled before she moved over to the other rack of baby clothes.

It felt good to be out and about with someone other than Tina. (Y/n) didn't have a lot of close friends and Tina was the only person (Y/n) felt comfortable going out with, other than Evan. But having Maddie as a friend and now as a big sister was comforting and (Y/n) was gaining a lot of close friends in the people Evan worked with.

She felt herself becoming lost in her thoughts and it took a lot of effort for (Y/n) to stop her hands from moving down to her stomach. She was bubbling over with excitement about telling Evan. It was all she wanted to do. She wanted to see him grin and move to touch her stomach and say how happy he was.

"Oh look, it's mummy-to-be."

That shrill voice sent shivers crawling down (Y/n)'s spine. She didn't dare turn around.

Her breath caught in her throat and her blood ran cold and dwindled down to her feet as the baby did a summersault in her stomach.

Why did they have to be here? Why did Sandra have to be here at the exact same time as (Y/n)? Wasn't it bad enough they shared the same classes at college and Sandra thought she had the right to follow (Y/n) around and tease her? Why did she have to carry it on outside of college?

Couldn't she just ignore (Y/n) and carry on with her day?

(Y/n) could feel tears prickling in the corners of her eyes already and she deadlocked her hand around one of the onesies she had pulled off the rack. She tried to push away the tears and swallow down the lump in her throat before she dared to look over her shoulder and see who was walking up towards her.

It was Sandra and two other girls, Mary and Ebony. It was strange to see Sandra without Carla, but then again, (Y/n) had never bumped into them outside of campus before. She didn't know who they hung around with and she didn't want to know either. (Y/n) wanted nothing to do with them.

"Where's your fireman?" Ebony leaned her head to one side and did a quick look up and down (Y/n)'s frame, scrutinising her.

It took all of (Y/n)'s strength not to bind her arms around her stomach to hide her daughter from their prying eyes. She didn't have to be worried or ashamed. This was none of their business.

Trying to hold her head up and keep a calm, unphased expression, (Y/n) pursed her lips and gave them one glance before she looked down at her basket.

"At work. Where's your partner?" If they thought asking these type of questions was normal then (Y/n) would throw them right back. If they could ask her and prod and be nosey then so could (Y/n).

"Will he be at graduation?" Ebony pestered, totally ignoring (Y/n)'s question.

But there was no time for (Y/n) to respond before Sandra cackled and tossed her head back as if she'd heard something funny. She looked (Y/n) up and down again before moving her hand towards her stomach. (Y/n) wasn't sure whether Sandra was just trying to point towards the baby or if she wouold actually dare to reach out and touch her, but she didn't want to find out. She took a step back before Sandra could get too close.

"Be realistic, Eb. He'll be babysitting to save the embarrassment."

That hurt.

(Y/n) could feel her stomach twisting again and she sank her teeth down into her lip to stop herself from making a noise or crying. She couldn't let them see they were getting to her. It was only a few words from people who didn't know her. People who had the nerve to talk about Evan as if they knew him intimately and knew what was going through his head.

If they only spoke to him they would realise how thrilled he was and how angry he would be if they spoke like this in front of him.

"I'm sure you'd know all about embarrassing moments." (Y/n) nodded at Sandra before she stepped around her and moved to walk away.

She wasn't sure where she was walking or which direction she wanted to be going in, but she just wanted to be away from them. Today had been a good day. Two easy classes, a capable workload to take home and work through, an amazing scan. And now she was out with someone she classed as her sister trying to have a fun, stress-free afternoon. They couldn't walk in and ruin it.

"So, you're going through with it then? Trying to keep that fireman tied to you with a baby. It'd make him look horrid if he walked out on a little girl when she's having his kid- presuming it's his, of course. Not like he's got much of a choice but to stay."

Her hand balled into a fist at her side and she spun back around to face the three gargoyles that wouldn't leave her alone.

"Why is this any of your business? Why don't you go speak to my fella, see for yourself how happy he is so you can stop worrying about him so much." Her voice wobbled and rose with the spite she could feel crawling up her throat.

This was nothing to do with them. If they were so concerned about how Evan was feeling about all of this (Y/n) would gladly introduce them to him so they could see for themselves that Evan was overjoyed.

They could find out that Evan had already told his parents and everyone he worked with. They could see that he had sorted his annual leave with Bobby so he could be home when the baby was born and spend two weeks with (Y/n) after she gave birth and be with her and the baby. They could talk to him and see that he was already starting to get things ready for the baby's arrival.

"He's happy that an inexperienced girl's having his baby? Can you even look after a child, or is that gonna be his job too?"

A shudder ran down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt a hand on her shoulder and for a moment, she coiled in on herself and shrunk down.

Panic surged through her veins at the thought of Carla or another one of the plastic squad appearing behind her out of thin air to gang up on her. They wouldn't hurt her, that wasn't their style. But their belligerent yapping and snarky, rude and hurtful words were getting too much now.

But when (Y/n) looked over her shoulder, she sighed and leaned back into Maddie.

She felt Maddie's hand tighten around her shoulder while Maddie placed her other hand down on her hip and glared at the three girls in front of them. She looked them up and down with narrowed eyes and huffed as if she thought they were nothing much to look at. She did not look impressed.

"And just what experience do you have to be talking to (Y/n) like that?"

When none of them answered, Maddie gave them another look up at down before she turned (Y/n) in the other direction to guide her away from those girls, whoever they were.

But two feet away, a sudden thought came over Maddie and she leaned over near (Y/n)'s ear. "Are they from your class? The girls Buck talked about?"

She'd almost forgotten the fact that Evan had told her (Y/n) was a bit anxious going to classes. She remembered he said some girls in class found out about (Y/n)'s private life and were teasing her because of it. Maddie couldn't believe they were in college and acting like they were little school girls who thought it was okay to pick on someone just because she was choosing to life her life the way she wanted.

"It doesn't matter. We just need something for the baby and a gift bag." Reaching behind her, (Y/n) gave Maddie's wrist a squeeze.

She felt better already now that Maddie was back with her. She felt confident having her sister with her. The snotty girls wouldn't dare say anything to her or torment her when she was with family. If Evan was here they wouldn't have approached (Y/n) at all.

But (Y/n) spun round when she felt Maddie let go of her and her heart lurched up into her throat when Maddie walked back towards the three of them.

"Excuse me."

Maddie placed her hands on her hips and began to tap her foot against the floor until all three of them turned to face her. She was older than them. She and (Y/n) were the mature people here and Maddie wasn't going to let them get away with this. If they wanted to be children, Maddie would scold and treat them like little girls.

"You do realise that to be a nurse, you can't be judgemental? I pray for the teenage mother who goes to the hospital and gets you as her nurse, passing judgements left right and centre. You won't make it very far with so little wit and understanding. Grow up."

With that being said, Maddie turned on her heels, her hair whipping over her shoulder, and walked back over to (Y/n). She linked their arms together and guided them both towards the other baby section. They were here to look for things for Maddie's niece and she was going to be proud of that.

Leaning her head on Maddie's shoulder, (Y/n) gave her arm a squeeze and cuddled into her side. "Thank you."

***

Opening her eyes, (Y/n) tried to clear her blurry vision. Her cheek nuzzled into the pillow and she strained her ears to listen to the noises she could hear.

The front door being locked. Loud, thudding footsteps going into the bathroomand then retreating a few moments later.

Evan was home.

(Y/n) found herself grinning into her pillow and her arms wrapped around Evan's pillow that she had been hugging for the last few hours. She wasn't sure what movie was playing on the tv, she had been drifting in and out of sleep for the last two hours but (Y/n) didn't want to lay and go to sleep yet. Not when she knew Evan would be home at some point late into the night. She didn't like sleeping without him.

She could hear Evan mulling about downstairs before she heard him jogging up the stairs. His height and stocky build made Evan heavy-footed and easy to hear when he was milling about the apartment.

She moved her hand to rub her eyes and lifted her head to look for Evan.

He moved faster than (Y/n) anticipated.

A gasp bubbled past her lips and she grinned when Evan practically ran to the bed and climbed on top of her. He crawled up the end of the bed so fast (Y/n) didn't see him move and he flopped down on top of her, hovering with his nose just barely touching her own.

"Hi," (Y/n) laughed and reached up to cup Evan's face while she felt his hands slipping around her frame.

She wriggled around beneath him, huffing as she turned to lay on her back instead of her side so she could look up at him. And Evan settled himself between her legs, pushing his hips down into hers like he was trying to imprint her into the mattress.

"Hi baby. How'd it go, you and bubba okay?" Evan leaned up a little so he could look down at (Y/n)'s stomach before his eyes went back up to hers.

He could see the tiredness washed across her face and how hard it was for her to keep her eyes open, but she was livening up now that he was home. He had been bouncing off the walls all shift today. Evan just wanted to get home so he could know how the scan went and know what they were having.

He'd messaged (Y/n) mid-afternoon and he tried to get her to ring him so he could find out how it went. All he got told was he'd have to wait until he came home for 'his surprise'.

"It went well, bubba's fine and healthy."

(Y/n) groaned and dug her fingers into Evan's neck when he kissed her so deeply he was pushing her back into the pillow.

She wriggled around, squirming and trying not to giggle against his lips when he tugged the cover down and wedged his hand between them so he could try and find her stomach. His fingers danced across her stomach and started making aimless patterns while he stole every ounce of air from (Y/n)'s lungs until she was seeing stars.' "So… can I find out the surprise now?" Evan spoke breathlessly against her lips, stealing another kiss and swiping his tongue across her top lip. He nudged their noses together and looked down at (Y/n) eagerly like a child waiting for Christmas.

He watched (Y/n) flop her arms down beside her on the bed and she tilted her head to the side to glance at the bedside alarm clock.

"Babe, it's nearly midnight… you can't wait until morning?" (Y/n) reached out to card her fingers through Evan's hair and started to untangle his curls. She smiled when he leaned into the touch and a deep groan passed his lips when she gave a small tug on his hair.

"Baby," He whined, tilting his head back while those puppy-dog eyes worked magic on melting (Y/n)'s heart and turning her stomach to mush. "I've waited all day, and Maddie knows, she's been messaging me all day. Please? I wanna know."

"Okay."

She had made him wait all day and she had no idea Maddie had been messaging Evan, clearly trying to wind her brother up because she knew before him. And Evan was wound up tight and hyped up like a kid on sugar. He wasn't going to be able to sleep for a while yet and he was desperate to find out.

Tilting his chin up, (Y/n) kissed him and sucked on his lower lip before she gave him a nudge and slowly sat up with him.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and heaved herself up to her feet, feeling like she could sleep standing up. Her back clicked into place and shivers rolled down her arms but she grinned when Evan's hands found her hips.

He groaned something incoherent against her neck and squeezed her hips as he climbed off the bed behind her. And (Y/n) realised he must have said something referring to what she was wearing. She had a pair of his loungewear shorts and cotton shirts on, both of which hung off her frame and showed off her stomach.

Evan glued his chest up against (Y/n)'s back and pressed his lips down against the top of her head. He followed her lead as she headed over to the stairs and guided him down, turning the lights back on as they walked.

(Y/n) dragged her hand through her hair, brushing a few locks out of her eyes as she led Evan through into the living room and over to the sofa.

She flopped down on the sofa and curled her legs up beneath her, sinking back into the cushions while she pointed at the sparkling silver gift bag on the coffee table. It was quite lucky that Evan had gone straight upstairs when he came home. If he had come into the living room first and saw the bag, (Y/n) knew he would have ended up opening the gift without her because he was so excited.

Evan excitedly perched down on the end of the sofa and motioned to the bag with such a wide grin he could barely see. "Can I?"

He rolled his lips together and reached out for the bag, pausing for a moment when (Y/n) shuffled over and leaned up on her knees. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and kissed the back of his head, leaning against his back so she could look over his shoulder.

His hands were trembling from excitement as he opened the bag and took a peek inside, reaching in to take out the first item he saw.

It was a knitted blanket. The material was soft and stretchy and felt like it had been made with cotton rather than with knitting wool. The colour was blushing pink. It had a dark red velvet ribbon sewn around the edging and in each corner there were crocheted roses, mostly red but two were dark fuchsia.

Folding the blanket carefully, he placed it down on the coffee table beside the bag, unable to refrain from smiling as he looked back in the bag.

Purple boots. So small they barely fit in the palm of Evan's hand, with little bows tied neatly on the front.

The next item made him laugh. (Y/n) tucked her face into his neck and kissed the junction beneath his jaw, feeling the way his throat vibrated as he laughed and held up the shirt to read it. A jet black shirt with roses and flowers, some of which looked similar to the tattoos Evan had on his chest and up his arms. And right in the centre, it said 'Girl Dad' in bright cursive letters.

He looked back into the bag and took out the last item laid at the bottom. A pale silver onesie with a crown in the centre and the words 'Daddy's Princess' written across the middle.

(Y/n) sucked in a deep breath when Evan twisted round so he was facing her. His hands moved down to cup the back of her thighs and he pulled her over until she was sat on his lap with her arms curved around the back of his neck.

She could see tears in his eyes and shivers ran up and down her nerves when Evan moved his hands up and as quick as anything, he pulled her shirt off. He tossed it somewhere across the other side of the room so there was nothing in the way of her stomach.

"We're having a girl? I'm gonna have a daughter?"

All the energy Evan had seemed to push through into his voice and leave his body oddly calm. He waited for (Y/n) to nod and he grinned against her when she kissed his lips.

He couldn't wait to tell everyone. He could go back to the station and tell them all that he was having a baby girl. He was going to have a daughter. He could tell Bobby he was going to have a granddaughter, since Evan thought of Bobby and Athena as his parents. He could see Eddie and Chris tomorrow and tell them he was having a girl, that Eddie would have a niece since Evan was Uncle Buck to Chris and he wanted Eddie to be a godparent to his daughter.

If someone on a call asked Evan if he had children, he could proudly tell that that he had a daughter. At the end of each shift, he was going to have two girls to go home to.

Pulling back, Evan wormed his arms back around her waist, pressing his palms flush against her skin while he leaned down until his lips and nose pressed against the top of her bump.

"Hi baby girl."

[under-lore]

First impressions on the new Asriel letter

So...

It seems we finally have some new Chara content in 2024 !

At the end of the latest newsletter, Toby shared one more letter with us, which contained some very interesting things.

Let's try and dissect it a bit.

First, to start with the obvious, this is a letter written by Asriel about Chara. We can see this from such as things as :

Using the term "best friend"

But also because 9 is already a number associated with Chara.

Of course, it is present with them rather strongly during the genocide route. Such as during its ending, but also through things like the statistics given to some items associated with them in the route.

The same can also be said for Narrator Chara too. Such as how new special dialogue appears from the narrator if one were to attempt to talk to Asgore precisely 9 times.

The idea that it would be their favorite number thus comes fairly naturally.

Next, the few following lines rationalise this association, all the while phrasing it in a way that reminds of their speech at the end of the genocide route.

Finally, we have a few more minor implications.

Asriel & Chara with flowers together may call back to this image :

But it was also a very old concept, that could be found way sooner in Toby's concept arts for the game.

While Chara's "creepy faces" are openly mentioned in-game.

The friend is also refered to as "they", which may be noteworthy.

As for laughs...

The letter ends with

...But alright, what can we learn from it ?

Quite a few things, actually.

First, obviously, Chara's favorite number being 9 feels more like confirming some trivia or association that had been noticed by fans a long time ago than actual true new information.

But it isn't the only noteworthy thing in this letter.

Here are some lines that i had cut earlier on :

The last few lines feel somewhat unprompted from that initial context. But they may have secondary meanings.

First, they may be used to indirectly refer to a type of numbness brought upon by killing mentioned by Sans in his neutral judgments.

However, while that hint may have been intentional on Toby's part, it surely wasn't the main thing that the "in-world" Asriel who wrote this letter was trying to suggest.

The main "in-world" intended meaning of this section was far more likely refering to this :

While Chara did not ever tell Asriel exactly what happened in their past, Asriel seems to believe that the humans they had known did not make a good impression on Chara. Suggesting that they may have been abused or even have come to the mountain to disappear because of them. Regardless, this was all something that had worried Asriel regarding his best friend.

Of course, in the original game, those things remained mostly implicit or speculative. Asriel did not know these things for certain. And neither did we.

But bringing it back up today after so many years certainly feels like a very interesting choice on Toby's part...

Of course, this is all still from Asriel's point of view, which is limited. But metatextually, this is saying more than it looks.

Asriel associating Chara's favorite number the idea that with it, "Nothing can hurt you anymore" is a much more direct way of saying that he believes Chara was hurt by humans in their past than we'd seen before.

Again. This content comes from Undertale's 9th anniversary. It was pretty much Toby's one special occasion to show us content about Chara again. Which he actually did with this letter.

He only disposed of a limited number of characters or lines to either tell us something new about them, or give more precision/information about something which he believed was important for us to see.

From the metatextual context of asking "What was Toby trying to do by showing us this letter ?", him choosing to give more detail on Asriel's belief that Chara may have been abused of all things would serve no other purpose than to volontarily insist on pushing forward his line of reasoning to the fandom.

This suggests that Toby is very likely trying to tell us that Asriel is at least largely correct, and thus that the idea of Chara having been hurt in some form by the humans in their village is now significantly more likely.

Indeed, this had been an issue in some parts of the fandom. While that interpretation had been largely popular amongst most of it for a long time, there had been some voices calling out to the lack of clean proper evidence pointing to that which weren't somewhat speculative. So this seems a lot like Toby attempting to point us in the right direction. Seems like the simplest answer may be the right one, Occam's razor strikes again.

A new questions also now asks itself : Is this meant to suggest that this was Chara's motivation for power ?

Having power, so you are no longer weak ?

Not being weak, so you can no longer be hurt ?

A way of feeling "in control" ?

There were already some implication of Chara disliking to show weakness to others in the past. This would be coherent with those.

In such case, the genocide route may be a macabre recontextualisation of this original motive on Chara's part.

It might also be made relevant in the context of Chara's plan, though that deserves its own future post.

Besides, Asriel saying this highlights how much he cares about Chara. Which is always nice to see.

As a side note :

Between the demo and the final version of the game, the flavor text for the faded ribbon was changed from a regular one to one which raised a few eyebrows :

While some people had tried to use this line as evidence of Chara having been abused, many other voices had (fairly rightfully) pointed out that this piece of "evidence" was quite fragile, due to things like other interpretations of it being just as plausible, the fact that it specifies " 'monsters' won't hit you as hard" which wouldn't fit Chara all that much, or simply the lack of other similar implications elsewhere in the game.

Now that we do have such implications, this argument, whilst still a bit of a long shot, is at least not quite as far fetched as it used to be anymore. The item is a thing which gives you DEF (increases your numbers), and prevents you from being hurt.

We are not quite done yet, though :

These lines feel like they also have meaning.

Once again, there is an indirect reference to the genocide route, with 99 being the maximum value for things like HP, or the next required EXP to gain LOVE. When you have them, you cannot get any more. It is the absolute.

However, there seems to be another strange connection to make here.

What is the opposite of a so called "good memory" ?

The bad memory is an item obtained from the memory head amalgamate.

It feels noteworthy as it, along with the "Last dream", are the two items in the game who's effects are theorised to have something to do with NarraChara in the way they are presented/work. (Suggesting that the memory/dream may come at least partially from Chara.)

For a reminder, the bad memory is a item that actually decreases HP by 1. Unless it is eaten on the brink of death, in which cases it restores all HP instead. Bringing it to the "highest number".

On top of that, this item also had a strange specificity to it :

It is impossible to drop it.

With this additional context, one may draw parallels between the Bad memory item's effects and what Asriel is saying, only in a reversed way, and applied to Chara.

In the same manner as previously. The previously existing theories trying to tie the bad memory to Chara now find themselves being rendered more plausible. In fact, given that these lines directly follow the previous ones, you may even associate them to make the argument that the memories could be of Chara's past on the surface hypothetically. Though that would likely be stretching it.

Also :

39 left.

Pretty impressive, the way every last line in this letter can be read as a genocide route reference one way or another.

And... the code of the page describe the contents of the page as "Here's a letter".

This is also the wording used in the lines with which Toby introduces us the letter.

This wording of this feels very significant considering who the letter is talking about...

So i suppose that makes for even more NarraChara fuel to have Toby writing down such things.

For one last thought, those couple lines.

If one were to follow a certain interpretation of things such as "Mr Dad Guy", the "future of humans and monsters", and Chara's relationship with the concept of "efficiency" & "usefullness", then they might be readable as an allegory for pre-death Chara's view on their role within monsterkind & one of their motivations regarding their plan. (along with their hate of humanity).

And this odd insistance on the term "happy" throughought the message..Is there a chance it could be refering to those secret lines, stored within the game's code in the echo flower room number #9999 ?

Some of the things mentioned in this post are somewhat stretchy admittedly. I am not yet certain of which ones of these would i actually argue for and which are only a product of first impression brainstorming.

Nevertheless. There are many many new ideas to explore regarding Chara now.

Thanks, Toby !

[rubra-wav]

how do you think Hazbin Hotel characters would react to a demon with butterfly wings?

The main Hazbin cast x Butterfly demon reader

Part 2 >

A/N: This wasn't really specific with what charas specifically, so I'm just doing the main cast. I'll do a part 2 with more characters, though, if it's wanted (sorry)

Reader's wings are written as colourful and proportionate to their body, so they are pretty big.

Realised there's a 10 image limit per post, which is bs. Isn't how i normally would have liked it to be aesthetically bc of that 👎

Cw: Sfw, slightly suggestive stuff in Angel's, reference to decapitation and cannibalism 💀, kinda a bit angsty in Angel's and Vaggie's, gn! Reader

Charlie

- Charlie would be absolutely delighted by you, no doubt about it.

- She wants nothing more than to be in a place that's vividly colourful and (assuming reader is a somewhat colourful butterfly demon) you'd be that for her.

- She also probably just really really likes butterflies in general though, let's be real.

- I can imagine her just staring at your wings with absolutely starry eyes while complimenting them.

- "They're so pretty ohhh my gosh!"

- I imagine her being lightly jealous, she'd love to have wings like a butterfly.

- Would probably ask if she can touch, and look somewhat sad when told no due to how it would cause your scales to come off. (Assuming reader's wings are the same as normal butterfly wings)

- It may get somewhat uncomfortable if you don't like attention, she would definitely fixate heavily on them. Tell her to stop though and it's making you feel weird and she will tone it down though.

- If not, though, enjoy the attention you're gonna be getting from Charlie over them.

Vaggie

- Vaggie would likely be a bit uncomfortable about seeing demons with wings in general due to her history - let alone you with beautiful, delicate ones.

- I think she'd secretly be hiding some angst and jealously about your wings ngl.

- When she sees Charlie fawning over them though oh boy.

- Yeah she's not gonna be happy about them then. She doesn't blame you or anything for how she's feeling as it's her issue and she knows that, but it still hurts quite a bit - especially in the beginning.

- It gets less and less bad though the more she gets used to it, she kind of just becomes 'meh' about it - especially if you ask Charlie to stop being so gaga about them.

- When she gets her wings back, though, I think she'd come to think they are cool. A normal level appreciation though.

- I can half see you two helping each other out with your wings down the line if you two get closer though.

- There are some things that come with upkeep so wings don't become damaged and stuff, so the people who also have wings? Allies 100%.

Angel

- I'm gonna be fr, the first time your wings come out he's probably gonna be panicked due to his baggage.

- Especially if it happens when you're angry.

- He's probably gonna need reassurance you aren't gonna try hurt him tbh.

- As sad as it is, his trauma would definitely play a part in his initial perception of them.

- After he recovers a bit and stops immediately going into fight or flight and seeing you =/= Val though, the switch up is insane.

- He would be all over you about them.

- I can imagine him calling you a bunch of butterfly related petnames.

- If you remember the 'make those wings flap' comments he made about Husk, its gonna be that on a hundred.

- Even if it's just joking flirting about them, it's gonna be constant because he thinks they are beautiful and it's a lot of material considering you're a butterfly and he's a spider.

- I feel like he would touch them at some point without really thinking and pull his hand back to see your scales have rubbed off onto his hand and go ''oh shit.''

Husk

- I don't think he'd have much of a reaction to it at all - at least not initially.

- Of course he acknowledges that they are very pretty, but he won't comment upon it much at all unlike the others.

- Possibly may make reference to it when crafting bitter statements directed towards you, though.

- Down the line, if you grow closer to him, I can see him as actually being concerned about your wings.

- They are extremely eye-catching and unique for a being in hell, and due to that, it could lead demons to actively target you

- Whether with overt aggressive intentions to take your wings and sell them, or with more covert problems like you being scouted for modelling (ie. By Velvette)

- I can see Vaggie and you trying to set up a wing maintenance group and trying to include him in it. Him being vehemently against it to a level that's almost comedic.

- You eventually convince him even though he's complaining the whole way through it. (He is lying and actually enjoys it).

Pentious

- He wouldn't like them at all in the beginning.

- They're big and bulky and get in the way of everything, including him.

- The amount of times he's accidentally fallen due to 'tripping' on your giant ass wings is greatly irritating and embarrassing to him.

- Possibly thinks you keep trying to kill him by tripping him.

- Could also see his 'hair' (idk how to properly refer to it, haha), accidentally brushing up against your wings with how expressive it is and getting your scales all over him.

- Basically, he doesn't like them because he's clumsy but will take it out on you.

- I also get the vibe he'd be jealous because of how eye-catching they are.

- In his mind, if he had wings like that, then he'd surely have been acknowledged by the Vees in some way.

- If you change your habits with your wings to be conscious of him not being able to walk normally and start getting onto better terms, though, he will likely become appreciative of them and stop being so pissy about them.

- They are very cool looking to him, and once his poor attitude wears off about them, he'll come to admit that.

Alastor

- He'd actually be somewhat weary of you in the beginning.

- It's nature's law that creatures that do not bother to hide themselves are not to be messed with - especially in a place like hell of all places.

- When he sees that you just happen to be particularly colourful, he drops that, though.

- He'd honestly probably be thinking of what it would be like to eat a demon like you after confirming you are, in fact, not poisonous or dangerous at all.

- He doesn't much care all that much for the intrinsic beauty of things as long as they aren't utterly ugly, and as long as they aren't obnoxious and in your face.

- Depending on how bright and vibrant they are and how much attention you bring to them, he may actually dislike them.

- If not, though, he acknowledges they are nice to look at, but again, doesn't really care about them outside of theorising how they would be to eat.

- Would probably make comments about how he could "just eat your wings up," or ask you about how you taste just to try to freak you out.

Niffty

- When she sees them, her eyes grow wide in a mixture of surprise and awe. At the exact same time, an unhinged smirk spreads across her face.

- She then proceeds to leap at you, scissors or whatever sharp object is closest to her raised at your wings.

- She'd be absolutely trying to take a piece out of them for her 'collection' 💀

- You're gonna need medical attention after she's done with you because she's hellbent.

- Her obsessiveness over your wings would vary depending on your gender but either way, she'd be trying to get a piece of them for herself.

- Definitely abnormal level of appreciation of them in the absolute worst way.

- If you can get her to stop instantly trying to cut off parts of them, she's still constantly trying to touch them. You need to complain about your scales every damn time she tries to reach out to touch it without fail.

- it's like your wings are a beacon, and she's the insect gunning for it ironically.

[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part two.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and 17,349 others

tagged: logansargeant

yourusername from a little boy meeting his heroes to a young man racing alongside them, getting to see all you’ve accomplished throughout the years makes me the proudest sister in the world. 2024 better watch its back, because sargeants always come back swinging.

view all 2,863 comments

logansargeant we pack a mean punch too 👊

↳ yourusername the meanest 👊

user wait no cuz this is actually so cute omg??? i want a sister to make cute posts about me

user definitely can’t wait to see more y/n at the races in 2024

williamsracing It was lovely having you in the paddock this season Y/N! We’re already looking forward to seeing what 2024 has in store!

↳ yourusername it was a genuine honor to be there! plus i look great in blue 😉💙

↳ user wait does this mean logan is re-signing??

alex_albon me and lily would love to have you both come round during the break if schedules align! 

↳ yourusername awwww alex!! speaking on behalf of logan, we’d love to!!

user i’m living vicariously through the sibling bond that the sargeant twins have

INSTAGRAM.

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 426,972

tagged: oscarpiastri

mclaren Some of our favourite meme-worthy images of Oscar from 2023! Which is your fav?

view all 2,632 comments

oscarpiastri guys…

user mclaren admin knows what the people want

↳ user mclaren admin feeding us well on this fine day

user these are actually so funny omg mans ain’t got no face filter

landonorris yea so this won’t be necessary for me pls and thx

↳ mclaren We already have the pictures ready! 👍

user i’ve made all of these faces at my tv this year

yourusername oh to be a rubber ducky in oscar piastri’s ice bath

↳ user OH? MY?? GOD???

↳ user UMMMM

↳ user real

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 835,781 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

landonorris papaya pals! looking forward to another season with you mate

view all 6,264 comments

user going into cardiac arrest

user damn oscar looking caked up

↳ user i’m glad i wasn’t the only one thinking it

oscarpiastri of all the pictures

↳ landonorris i giveth thy people what they want

↳ yourusername and we thank you for it sir lando 🫡

user MANIFESTING MORE PODIUMS FOR 2024

mclaren Looking forward to another year, boys! 🧡

danielricciardo you’re only posting these to show off your ass

↳ landonorris and if i am?

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 11,263 others

yourusername i can still recall our last summer 

view all 926 comments

logansargeant it’s december 1st???

↳ yourusername it’s summer somewhere

user i wish i lived in florida

user MAMMA MIA REFERENCE

oscarpiastri ☀️

↳ yourusername 🌊

user i’m so delulu about what this could mean

↳ user it’s probably just an aesthetic caption?? y’all are fr crazy

↳ user no cuz it’s literally winter rn in the states so why would she post about summer?

↳ user bc she lives in florida?? where the weather is like summer all the time??

You lower your phone and look back to the dark waters crashing against the shore. Logan’s time in Formula 1 has meant you’ve been traveling around the world, getting to experience so much more than you’d ever imagined you would in your lifetime, but nothing compares to the familiarity and comfort of Florida— of home.

And your friends.

“So,” Sophia bumps her shoulder against yours, eyes alight with mischief when you turn to meet her expectant gaze. “Come on,” she teases, “tell me about him.”

You’ve been friends with her for a few years now, ever since moving back to the United States. She was born and partially raised in Belgium, so after spending so long in Europe, she’s the only one who understood the minor culture shock of moving back. You both clicked, and you’ve been stuck together ever since. You’ve learned, however, that if there’s one constant about her, it’s without a doubt her need to gossip about anything and everything— but specifically boys.

You huff out a laugh, “There’s no ‘he’ to tell you about.”

She hums into her glass of wine, eyeing you skeptically.

“There isn’t!” You laugh, shoving her lightly.

She gasps and feigns falling back onto the blanket spread out beneath you. She’s dramatic, too, and that’s another reason you matched so well. She feels like the sister you never had, which makes moments like this feel even more special.

“This back and forth with a certain OP-eighty-one suggests otherwise,” she sing-songs back at you as she sits up, making kissing faces and cackling when you shove at her again.

“I’m not sure how you even know about that,” you grumble. “You don’t even use Instagram.”

“Maybe not, babes,” she casts her gaze out across the ocean, “but I have my sources. So come on, between us girls and us girls only, tell me what’s going on.”

You heave a sigh, gulp down the last mouthful of wine in your glass, and then pour yourself another while she waits. You’re not getting out of this, and part of you does really want to talk about things. On top of being your brother and therefore way more protective than he needs to be, Logan is also Oscar’s best friend and you’re not sure what “bro code” is exactly, but you imagine not dating your friend’s sister is part of it— so he’s out of the question. You’d go to Dalton if you were sure he wouldn’t tell Logan, but they’re loyal to each other and have some sort of unspoken pact when it comes to your love life. You joked once that instead of your dad, it’d be them waiting at the door with a shotgun if you ever brought a guy home, but you’re not sure it was a joke at all with how they act sometimes.

“It started in Bahrain,” you begin, rolling your eyes when she wiggles excitedly and turns her undivided attention to you. “I’ve known him for a while because he and Logan have driven together since they were young, so I messaged him after the race to say that it sucked he had to retire so early into it.”

“And?”

You shoot her a look. “And, we kept talking. One thing led to another and we met up for drinks…” You fiddle with the rim of your glass, glancing back out to the water. You can’t tell if the heat on your face is because you’re embarrassed, or from spending so much of your day under the Floridian sun. “That’s it.”

“That’s it?” She asks incredulously.

“Well—” you purse your lips. “We kissed. Once. When he dropped me off at the hotel. But it was probably just the alcohol or something. I don’t think he wanted it to mean anything. I bet he just wanted to have fun but couldn’t because he had to leave early in the morning.”

She sends you a look. “He was sober enough to drive you back… but you think it was alcohol influencing his decisions? And he kissed you, even knowing he wouldn’t be able to ‘have fun?’ Right. Didn’t mean anything at all.”

You shake your head and huff. “He was upset because he’d had such high hopes for his first Grand Prix and it ended poorly, and I was there to comfort him, so maybe that’s why. He got caught up in the moment, or something.”

“Y/N, I love you. I do. You’re my best friend and you’re like a little sister to me,” she cups your face in her hands and turns you to look at her. “But you can be so dense sometimes, do you know that?”

“Then why hasn’t he brought it up?” You ask, your voice garbled slightly from the way her hands squish your cheeks together. “We saw each other again in Melbourne, to celebrate him getting his first points, and he didn’t say anything then. Or Miami, or England, or Japan.”

She gives you another look and lets your face go. “It’s a two-way street, babe. Why haven’t you brought it up?”

And… that’s a good point. You technically could’ve brought it up, too. You’d just been so afraid of how he would’ve reacted that you’d chosen to keep quiet, preferring uncertainty over rejection. It’s the same reason why you so rarely pursue the things you want. A fear of rejection stands in your way, and you realize suddenly that you could’ve ruined things with someone you genuinely like just because you were afraid.

“You know, like, Schrodinger’s cat," you start meekly. "If you don’t open the box, the cat is dead and alive, because you don’t know. So I never brought it up. Because not knowing is better than him telling me it was nothing.”

She reaches out and wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side. When she speaks again, her voice is calmer, less accusatory, a murmur against the ambiance of the hissing tide— “But what if he tells you it’s something?”

You groan. “He probably thinks I’m not interested.”

“Y/N—”

“Oh God!” You pull away and bury your face into your hands. “I ruined it all!”

She pries your hands away and looks you in the eye. There’s a sparkle in her gaze, it’s the look she gets when she has a plan.

“You haven’t ruined it. We just have some work to do.”

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis

━━ a/n: i am overwhelmed by the amount of love on the first part of this! genuinely did not anticipate it at all, and i'm so thankful. so here's the second part! i hope it does justice to the first!

[ehlihr]

Hi!! Do you have any advice on drawing ears and how they are positioned on the face? I noticed that the way you draw ears is quite varied compared to other artists, even with different types of pointy ears like on your OCs or on Falin! I really love looking at your artwork and it was a detail that caught my attention!

Really quickly roughed this out for you but i have to say i actually consider ears to be a serious weakpoint of mine so this isnt really a reference so much as things i keep in mind — i basically have to adjust them every time i draw anything to get a feel for them! Ears are a part of a character’s design so i adjust pointiness and shape to match the character’s vibe.

I feel like the biggest pet peeve i have is that people forget perspective is a thing! Ears are aligned to the brow ridge and where the nose connects to the upper lip, yes, but a character facing any direction other than profile’s ears will recede in perspective and appear to align more with like, the cheekbone or the eye, depending.

Last note is when i say “suggest don’t tell” that’s really advice for anything — sometimes suggesting a structure is more important than getting it exactly right. It’s also jarring for a viewer to see one hyper detailed area of focus when the rest of the image doesnt have that and it’s not on purpose — is the ear more detailed because the artist wants you to notice it, the character is listening hard, etc? Or is it detailed because the artist was unconfident about which details to include and unintentionally gave a tell as to a weak area of their work? I feel like i can always tell when an artist used an Abnormal Amount of Reference for a spot of a drawing because they lacked confidence, correctly went to get reference, but then failed to pare down the detail to match the image. Ears can be a tell for me in my work anyway. And people facing away from the camera.

Hopefully this helps but i really dont know how to draw ears well i feel really unconfident about them lmfao.

Anyway thanks for the message!! This is very unstructured but hopefully its some decent insight into how i think when drawing ykwim

[thepersonperson]

Gege is doing to his characters what they did to jfk there's so much character assassination happening djsjdsnsdjn

This ask was sent to me shortly after I complained about JJK 269 leaks. (Aka before JJK 270's release so be nice to them.) And while I still agree that chapter contained character assassinations, JJK 270 has given me a good reason for them. 

Since my other post related to this topic was trimmed down by Tumblr’s 30 image limit, I’m going to use this ask as an excuse to this burning question...

Why does everyone feel so out of character in JJK 268–270?

Notes before we start.

1) Read the light novels. They are the equivalent of Bleach's CFYOW for JJK. There is a fan translation (Book 1 & Book 2), but I will be citing the official translation from my own copies.

2) I will be mainly using the TCB scans for the manga because of their accessibility. 

4) Written as of JJK 270.

5) Read the light novels.

(Another extremely 'hear me out' discussion under the cut. Click pictures for captions/citations.)

Preface

This post is banking on the framework I set up in the previous related post so please read/skim over it. (If you don't? Just hear me out!)

Short Summary of the Previous Related Post:

Yuji is projecting a massive delusion onto Megumi that gives him a happy ending. JJK 268–270 is a mesh of Yuji and Megumi’s memories and dreams that serve to rationalize all that’s happened to them in a way that allows them to forgive themselves. Sukuna’s vessel memories are probably mixed in too.

Because of this I’m assuming the following:

>The battle recollection in JJK 269 is Yuji constructing explanations from his, Megumi, and Sukuna’s memories during their battle. Neither of these 3 ever knew the plan in full. This can explain why so much of the battle recollection is wrong.

>The characters we see outside of Yuji and Megumi are constructs based on their memories of these people. They’re more like representations than the actual characters.

I don’t know if it means they’re dead or not, but that doesn’t matter. I want to explore the way the characters feel off can be explained by them being memory constructs.

In the previous post, I used "Without love it cannot be seen." from Umineko to give my best faith reading of these past 3 chapters I've hated so much. This time the tool I'll be using is:

"Flipping over the chessboard."

This refers to how one should try to see things from a different perspective.

Memory in JJK

A neat touch that has always been around in JJK is characters remembering others as they last saw them. When Gojo recalls his best students, Hakari has a very different hair style from when we meet him. His recollection of Yuta's is accurate though. When Panda recalls Yuta, the hairstyle differs from what Gojo recalls. And when he recalls Kiara, he mistakenly refers to her as a guy.

This all can be explained by considering when Gojo and Panda last saw these characters. Gojo last saw Yuta in Kenya with Miguel where he changed his hairstyle. Panda hasn't seen Yuta since he's left the country. Neither Gojo or Panda have seen Hakari and Kiara for a very long time.

Their memories reflect how they last knew them. Kiara is a whole girl now and Hakari is blond. But if Panda and Gojo never saw them again? Those memories would be true to them, even if it’s no longer accurate.

And sometimes the memories aren’t accurate. See this side by side recollection of Gojo meeting Megumi from both of their perspectives.

I believe Gojo’s memory of this event is the accurate one because he’s 19 when it happens, not under distress when he recalls it, and has the Six Eyes which act like a supercomputer. Megumi’s memory is iffy because he’s 6 when it happens, has a head injury that knocks him out when he recalls this, and doesn’t have perception enhancing abilities. And though Megumi can’t recall the memory in its truest form, what he does remember still tells us a lot about his feelings towards the event and his relationship with Gojo.

The emotions child Megumi felt at the time distort what Gojo was actually like back then. Instead of a benefactor, he’s a suspicious weirdo with a funny face. The heart behind Gojo crouching down to his level, being way too honest with him, trying to give him options, patting him on the head—it’s all missing.

With all this in mind, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume Megumi and Yuji’s impressions of other characters via memory would influence how they appear in these delusions too. Yuji’s impressions probably take the most precedence since I think his will is shaping the delusions the most.

Recalling Incomplete Information 

Yuji is very good at understanding people. He can intuit their feelings and sync up with them easily. (I go over this in greater detail in this post.) But that doesn’t mean he fully understands their hearts. He gets close enough to their core to bond with them, but the little details aren’t quite right. 

If all the characters (save Megumi) we’ve been seeing in JJK 268–270 are constructs based on Yuji’s perception of them, I think this can explain everything off about them.

What made me consider this possibility was JJK 270. There’s this pattern I keep seeing... Characters’ motivations being misunderstood and being resolved by scenarios that aren’t quite right. Every time I try to explain what exactly is wrong with them, assuming their inconsistencies align with Yuji’s perception of them solves the problem.

Amai Rin

Rin is introduced as a coward. He’s unable to fight and goes along with the whims of those stronger than him to avoid getting hurt. This is why he keeps his head low as his friend is being harassed by bullies during his Jr. High days. Still, he tries to help. Just not at a risk to himself.

When Yuji saves his friend and beats all the bullies up, he turns to Rin and assumes he was part of the bully group. This simply isn’t true. He was a bystander. That’s why it’s weird for him to apologize like he was the one who beat the guy up.

Yuji’s false impression of Rin, one where he’s a bully that feels guilt over his actions, explains this. Rin’s actual guilt comes from him being a bystander—someone who doesn’t take action for others when something is wrong. He dealt with that in the Culling Games by helping Yuji and risking his life to save Angel. And he really stepped out of his comfort zone to join the medical team for the Sukuna battle. He might be the reason Yuta survived. (Yuji doesn’t know about that though.)

And what’s this? Here Yuji outright admits he doesn’t fully understand what kind of person Rin is. All he knows is that he did some good things and is trying to become a better person. So now we’ve got this other Rin that’s apologizing for something he didn’t do for the redemption he’s already earned.

(And that’s the pattern! Rin’s motivation is misunderstood by Yuji so he’s doing something that seems out of character to us readers, but is perfectly in character for Yuji’s perception of him. When I apply it to everyone else. Everything makes sense.)

Takaba Fumihiko

What Yuji knows about Takaba is pre-Kenjaku development. Yuji knows the Takaba that speaks over others, rejects their criticisms, and insists he’s funny. That’s kind of what he’s doing to Totally Not Kenjaku. In reality, Kenjaku caused Takaba to reflect on his approach to comedy and they are nearly in perfect sync by the end of it. Kenjaku satisfied Takaba.

Yuji didn’t see that battle and he hasn’t spoken to Takaba since. So he’s constructed a happy ending where Takaba has found his partner and is working towards the show of his dreams that already happened.

I also want to note that Takaba is 100% ok with sex jokes. Kenjaku makes one and he doesn’t object to it. This is just another little detail that makes everything so slightly off.

Higuruma Hiromi

Yuji knows that Higurama wants to go back to his roots. He knows that he feels guilt over killing people.

What he doesn’t know is that Higurama’s roots are him being a defense lawyer that cherishes the flaws of humanity. He doesn't want to ever look away from the impurities that even Yuji has. That’s why I think Yuji resolves his problems with him becoming a sorcerer who saves lives.

Yuji seems to think that Higuruma is like him. He’ll make up for the lives he’s taken via sorcery by saving more. That’s something he could assume from their convo, but that’s not actually what Higuruma wants. He wants to fundamentally change Japan’s legal system for the better in his own way.

Kurusu Hana

She’s the most in character of the bunch. In fact, there’s nothing out of character about her interaction with Megumi. What she represents is Yuji misunderstanding Megumi’s desires.

Yuji understands that Megumi’s type is someone with an unwavering humanity (literally the definition of Yuji’s name) via access to his memories. But for some reason (he’s kind of dumb academically), he thinks this means Hana is perfect for him. 

I think this is because Hana meets Yuji’s definition of a good person. She’s just like Megumi. She saves others for a selfish purpose. And that means…Hana does not meet Megumi’s definition of a good person. Not once has he considered her saving others as selfless. (...But Yuji has.)

And that’s just facts. Hana is kind of unhinged. She’s extremely possessive of Megumi and saves others solely to win him over. Yuji saves others because it’s the right thing to do.

Megumi’s preferences are Yuji, not Hana. Which has led to the most awkward confession and rejection scene. That might have clued Yuji in to construct an alternative. In the memory Yuji is probably recalling, Todo does clock Megumi as someone into dudes.  …The very next scene is Yuji hitting on a dude in front of his gf in a way that causes him to blush. (Yuji has not once complimented someone’s body up to this point if I recall correctly. And he’s been around some beefy dudes.)

(Yeah Nobara me too. Second most leftfield possible bisexual confirmation I’ve read in a manga. The first will always be from Baki the Grappler.)

Is this Yuji letting Megumi know it’s ok to come onto him? Is he not initiating because Hana’s forwardness freaked Megumi out? It’s possible. 

What this suggests is that Yuji is kind of fine tuning this whole delusion to make Megumi as content as possible. It’s telling that the moment Megumi starts getting super uncomfortable the scene jumps to something else.

It happens at the beginning of the chapter too. Gojo is mentioned by Shoko in a way that causes Megumi to pause. And Bam! Change scene.

Anyways, I hope this demonstrates that Yuji working with the limited information from memories is most likely the reason for everything being so funky. It’s character assassination by accident.

Why make these happy endings when this is all for Megumi?

Two reasons as to why I think Yuji is trying to give everyone a plausible happy ending.

1) He genuinely wants them to live good lives.

2) It has to be believable for Megumi to accept them as real and forgive himself.

This line may have been about Yuji, but Megumi’s not any different. He blames himself in the exact same way Yuji blames himself.

I also think there's something to be said about Yuji crafting a dream that resembles the perfect cookie cutter Shonen ending. The guy gets with girl he has no chemistry with. All these complicated plot lines are wrapped up with a neat little bow. Everyone lives and goes on like nothing traumatic happened.

Yuji is a big fan of Shonen. Straight up his final move against Sukuna is a Hunter X Hunter reference. That's not just Gege doing a reference as a fan, Yuji himself is a fan of that manga.

I think Yuji is trying to make this fiction a reality because it's the only way he knows how to cope with his trauma.

JJK 269’s Character “Assassinations”

I promise I still hate this chapter. But I won’t deny how fun it is to pretend these are all delusions Yuji created for Megumi’s sake. I went over Kusakabe to cut him some slack in the previous post, so let’s do everyone else.

(The chapter’s formatting as one long unending nightmare makes it hard to separate this stuff out by the character. I’m just going to do groups this time.)

The 2nd Years

The most common complaint from readers outside of Kusakabe telling Yuji he should’ve died is Maki being really fudging mean to Yuta. Maki is mean, but she’s not that mean. You could assume this is her showing Yuta she cares and that her anger scales with worry but… Here’s a side by side comparison of her getting angry over Yuta risking his life in Vol 0 vs JJK 269.

Pretty big difference I think. Here is a Maki with a Yuta she thinks is about to die vs a Maki with a Yuta who is 100% ok. And the only reason she even gets mad in Vol 0 is because she had no idea Yuta did something that risky. Maki already knew Yuta was going to body hop if all else failed, so her reaction here is disproportionate, especially since he survived.

Speaking of survival, the first thing Maki, Panda, and Inumaki do when Yuta survives in Vol 0 is ask if he’s ok and thank him for saving them. This doesn’t happen in JJK 269. They're all very protective of Yuta after the events of Vol 0. We see them defend him from Gojo for being a little mean about his training. They’re all against the plan because of how much they value him. The 3 of them not checking in on Yuta immediately after the fact is wildly OOC.

The explanation I have? This version of Maki is based on Yuji and Megumi’s memories of her. (And let’s remember that Megumi claims he can’t openly respect her and the other 2nd years outside of Yuta.) When Megumi and Nobara mourn Yuji’s “death”, Maki does this to them.

Maki also intimidated Yuji pretty bad when they first met. Her, Panda, and Inumaki went along with bullying Yuji after he came back to life. It makes sense that Yuji would up Maki’s meanness. He’s not been around her long enough to know she’s not like this when it comes to people she cares about. 

I do think it is weird Maki is pre-awakening levels of mean. This could also be Yuji trying to return to the time before everything went to absolute hell. Or...because she’s Yuji’s construct, this could be him expressing his anger at Yuta for defiling Gojo’s body in a very roundabout way. From both Yuji and Megumi’s perspective, Yuta didn’t discuss this beforehand and used it as a last second plan. And that’s kind of how the conversation goes. Everyone talks about Yuta’s Yujo plan like he didn’t clear it with them first.

It’s also telling that they harp on Yuta over Miguel and Larue. Miguel said no help unless Sukuna’s domain was down. Everyone except Yuji knew that. There was never a scenario where they’d help from the start. But to Yuji who only heard they might show up? It’s a missed opportunity.

Say if you were, trying to find a reason for such a horrific defiling of a loved one’s body. Wouldn’t you try to reconstruct the crime by considering the motives and methods? That would help give you some closure, right?

I think that’s what Yuji is doing for himself and Megumi. Yuji is trying to figure out why things went the way they did through a blend of what Sukuna intuited and what makes the most sense to someone who never had full knowledge of the plan. 

And if you think about it, this is still a happy ending for them. They’re all absolved of their guilt surrounding the outcome of the battle. Even if they screwed up, they’re all still alive and able to move forward in a better world. They did the best they could, so it’s time to move on from what happened to Gojo. Thinking about that too much would break someone.

Mei Mei and Ui Ui

Mei Mei is out of character in a way that’s unique compared to everyone else. She’s still herself, but with less…yikes. It’s odd since Yuji has seen how awful Mei Mei can be and is deeply uncomfortable with how she treats Ui Ui. He’s not missing information about her motives so why have we gone from this to this?

I propose this is an extension of Yuji’s denialism. (We’ve seen how avoidant he is with Gojo’s death.) Mei Mei is grooming Ui Ui and has made it clear this is all for money. Ui Ui is being abused, but he’s so attached to his abuser that separation would break him. How do you make a happy ending out of that?

Well, you can soften those edges. Spin a tale where Mei Mei is an over-doting sister who would kill for her cute little brother. She doesn’t touch him inappropriately, she just plays with him. She loves money as much as him! No abuse here! She’s not someone who would kill a child for cash.

And in a weird way this whole Simple Domain debacle mirrors Gojo killing the higher ups. If Maki is Yuji's rage towards the Yujo plan, then this could be him trying to process his mentor slaughtering a bunch of old people in mass for his sake.

It probably helps that Yuji wasn’t there to see Mei Mei tell Ui Ui to die for her. There’s no way he knows she was paid to help kill him either.

Mei Mei doesn’t care about the well-being of other people. She’s just a hardcore capitalist who loves money and will do anything for it. But this version of her can be less terrible to Ui Ui while still getting her cash and that’s sort of ok I guess? Yuji has moved on from this and so will I.

The Megumi & Nobara Problem

The 1st years going on like nothing happened after Sukuna has made readers feel betrayed. It flies in the face of everything that’s been established for them when it comes to mourning.

As stated in CFYOW, JJK Thorny Road at Dawn, Chapter 5: At the End of a Sidewalk, this is how the trio deals with grief.

Despite knowing Yuji for only 2 weeks his death screws with Megumi and Nobara pretty badly. In the manga, it looks like Nobara is more upset because she’s visibly in pain, but I think the light novels show they’re equally shaken. 

This is why the non-reaction to Gojo’s death makes no sense. Megumi has known Gojo for a decade. He’s 6 when he first meets him and 16 when he dies because Sukuna used his Cursed Technique (CT). Nobara knew Yuji for 2 weeks, and didn’t see him for another 3 months. In all that time, Gojo was her teacher. She knew him longer than Yuji. When she “dies” Gojo is on the same tier as Yuji and Megumi to her.

So why is it that in JJK 268, Nobara thinks of Gojo as a creep? Why did she toss his letter despite him being one of the people she thought of in death? 

Well… When Yuji came back from the dead via Gojo’s prank he heard Nobara say this.

Nobara is prone to saying out of pocket nonsense to people. If she thinks it, she says it. Yuji also doesn’t understand Nobara’s thought processes (Just like Amai Rin he admits it too!). Nobara tries to hide her feelings to appear tougher than she is sometimes. So I think Yuji has done to Nobara what he has done to Maki—upped the meanness and neglected the heart.

And though Nobara being a construct can explain her behavior, this still leaves us with Megumi who is definitely not one. Why is he acting like Gojo meant nothing to him?

Megumi in particular is super fragile when it comes to his feelings. This is how stressed he gets when he learns exactly why Tsumiki is in a coma.

She’s not even dead and he’s halfway to a mental breakdown. The idea that he can just look at her grave once after having a hand in her murder and move on this quickly makes no sense. Inadvertently killing his defacto guardian he’s been raised by for 10 years should be upsetting him to a similar degree. (Maki said Gojo treated him like a precious treasure!)

When Megumi is on the verge of death he thinks of Tsumiki, Yuji, and or Gojo. It’s always at least 1 of those 3. There’s no way Gojo dying and having his corpse reanimated for reasons Megumi might feel responsible for isn’t screwing him up.

Unless…Yuji is suppressing his memory on purpose. He can’t even cope with what happened to Gojo, how is Megumi supposed to? How can either of them forgive themselves for that if they acknowledge it in full?

When Sukuna tries to tell Megumi to give up, he looks miserable. Every time Sukuna has verbally kicked Yuji while he’s down, he’s done it with a big old smile and laugh. He doesn’t hold back and goes for the throat.

Sukuna is being very nice to Megumi here when he doesn’t mention Gojo at all. The only death he blames on Megumi is Tsumiki. Everyone else? Nothing. That’s weird given that Sukuna will pass the blame of his kills onto Yuji to torment him.

Is this Sukuna a construct or is he playing nice because he respects Megumi? Who knows. Whatever happened here seems to point to Gojo’s memory being suppressed for Megumi’s sake. 

And why might Megumi accept this suppression? Why does he seem to be going along with Yuji’s delusions? The Unlimited Void brain fog. Megumi brings attention to it after he wakes up. 

If Sukuna can’t think straight after Gojo brain damage, neither is Megumi. Still Yuji has to be careful. If Megumi thinks too much, the illusion will be broken. 

What does this mean for them?

Well, the character assassination isn’t real (probably) which is a good thing! Other than that? Not a clue. We’ve got a real catbox situation here. I can’t tell who is dead anymore.

Sukuna projects delusions when someone he’s connected with is dying. Yuji projects delusions someone connects with him while he’s severely injured/concussed. Both of them are kind towards the people they’re interacting with in this space between dreams and reality. They try to give people endings that leave them satisfied.

JJK 270 ends with the hunt for a curse user who can distort perceptions of reality. This curse user is initially mistaken as a cursed spirit. That sounds like Sukuna I think.

I’m pretty confident this happy ending illusion will be shattered, that's for sure.

My Final Answer

I'm betting it all on this being a delusion. This is a kind of prediction that will either age well, very badly, or interestingly. I don't know what's in store for the final chapter...but I do have some ideas I'd like to speculate with.

"Without love it cannot be seen."

This time I'm going to use this phrase very literally. I'm going to make one final gamble on the assumption that love is the answer. So let's go back to Love itself—one of those reoccurring themes in JJK.

Love is a curse in JJK. It has the power to distort reality and transform loved ones horribly. Desperation to save a loved one from death over and over has resulted in extremely traumatic things. Yuta turned his childhood crush into monster that caused havoc for years. You can blame everything that has happened in JJK on Gojo being unable to get over the loss of his loved one, Geto.

Hana could've vanquished Sukuna on the spot, but she didn't because she loves Megumi. It's something a lot of people blame her for. If she had just killed him there, the Sukuna battle wouldn't have happened. But that's not really the truth. The only reason Sukuna even got his powerful is because Megumi refused to let Yuji die.

Megumi and Yuji going back and forth trying to save each other have been acts of love driving the plot of JJK since the beginning of this manga. If Megumi actually died on Yuji? Who knows what would happen.

...

A lot of readers have been on a very funny copium because of these last 3 chapters. Some of them joke that they are just one massive Takaba-induced hallucination. This theory has some merit to it! After all, his CT does two things:

1) It distorts reality.

2) By sheer force of will it bends people's souls to his whims.

One of the biggest complaints about the past 3 chapters has been the Merger plot ending abruptly. As of JJK 270 Tengen and Sukuna's remains have been mixed into the barrier around Japan and everything is just fine according to Gakuganji.

People wanted to see what the Merger would do, just like Kenjaku. In universe, Tengen made a prediction. They guessed that the impurity from humans would dominate and consume everything. The impurity that Higuruma wants to protect. The impurity that Higuruma sees in Yuji.

Would Sukuna activate the merger and kill Megumi to spite Yuji? Absolutely.

Would Yuji do or become anything to save Megumi's life? Absolutely.

Do whatever you want with this information.

[lust4life01]

literally anything with donnie is fine! just wanted to tell you how much i love your writing too!! :)

Awe thank you sm qt!! I whole heartedly appreciate that, it means so much to me💘 This is a little rushed <3

Baby, Sit.

(Not my image!!). 18+

Warnings!!- Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy, dom x sub, smut, oral (m receiving), fingering, slight chocking, possession and teasing.

Dom Donnie x f/reader

(Donnie and reader are both 18!) Disclaimer/ this is purely fantasy, if somebody is cruel to you irl it does not mean they like you, they’re scum :)

Summary: You were hired by Rose and Eddie Darko to baby sit for their youngest child Samantha, little did you know you would be sitting for some else.

Being an eighteen year old student, you were painfully broke, so when your mother had referred you to her friend to baby sit, you immediately accepted.

When your mother had told you the name of the woman who’s child you would be looking after you felt a wave of anxiety rush through you.

Rose Darko. As in the parent of Donnie Darko.

You and Donnie had been in the same school, you were the same age. And unfortunately you couldn’t stand him and vice versa. There was something about the pair of you that didn’t work. He was always so uptight and had to be right about everything, it was infuriating. There was one main factor that contributed to the continuous clash between the two of you, which was the fact you dated his best friend up until pretty recently. You hadn’t seen Donnie since then considering you had no reason to be around each other anymore but the thought of seeing him again made you want to scream into a pillow.

Whenever you two would be in the same vicinity he would just straight up ignore your presence or when he did acknowledge you he would be blunt and snappy. You had no idea why but this lead to a lot of animosity between the two of you.

So when your mother had told you you would be babysitting for Samantha Darko you immediately wanted to call up Rose and tell her you wouldn’t be able to do it. However you were pretty broke and you assured yourself you probably wouldn’t see Donnie, not if there was no one to baby sit his younger sister. Plus what was you supposed to tell her? Sorry I can’t watch your child that I’ve already agreed to watch because your son hates me? Yeah no.

———————————————————-

“Hey (y,n) yeah we’ll be gone for a couple hours but we left some money for pizza.” Mrs Darko told you as you stood in their kitchen.

You already knew Samantha from when she would bug Donnie at school and run up to the friend group. She was a sweet kid and she liked you well enough so that definitely eased your nerves.

“Okay great, does Samantha need to be in bed by a specific time.” You asked sweetly, knowing full well you’d probably let her stay up regardless.

“Um nope just not too late and by the time we get home. Oh and she has homework to do.”

Rose sterling looked at Samatha as a warning.

“Boringgg.” Samantha protested whilst stood directly by your side.

“Okay well we’ll see you later, have fun” Eddie spoke as they made their way out of the door.

Rose returned and popped her head into the door before leaving .

“Oh (y,n) I’m sure Donnie will be glad to see you again.” She smiled and quickly left before you could even form a response.

Your mind paced. Was Donnie supposed to be here? Why did they need a babysitter then? Did they know you two used to be in the same friendship group? Had he mentioned you? Was it negative? Did he express how much he hated you? Would you actually see him again?

“Can you paint my nails?” Samantha snapped you from your spiral of anxious thoughts.

You turned to her and smiled. “Of course”

You had painted her nails, watched her dance rehearsals and told her how good she was, ordered pizza and now you were helping her with her homework.

She had to write about the character of Pony boy Curtis from ‘The Outsider’ by S.E Hinton.

You had loved studying this book when you was her age and literature in general. So it was absolutely no bother helping her complete her assignment.

“Well, he’s obviously very different and unique to the other characters which can be inferred through-“

You were cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

“Pizza, thank God!” Samantha cried out holding her hands together.

Laughing at her childhood silliness you walked over and opened the front door with cash in your hand, your stomach very exited to finally eat.

However, you were not laughing when you opened the door to someone that was not the pizza delivery man. In fact you no longer felt hunger but complete nausea. Instead a tallish guy with dark hair and piercing blue eyes stood on the other side. Donnie.

You didn’t say anything, just moved to the side to let him through. He didn’t say anything either. Simply walked past as if you weren’t there, the smell of cigarettes trailing behind him.

“Ugh it’s just my stupid brother, not pizza” Samantha whined.

Donnie pulled a face at her as he made his way through the house.

“Hey Sam, when she goes home tonight, Freddie Kruger is gonna craw out from under your bed.” He teased through a creeping voice, obviously trying to upset her.

Samantha in her upset state, Freddie Kruger clearly being a touchy subject, yelled out whist nearly in tears

“SHUT UP DONNIE, NO HE WONT!”

He then made his way over to her homework and scoffed, picking up her copy of The Outsiders and mumbled “mediocre.”

He then proceeded upstairs, leaving the minute he’d managed to make someone else feel bad. Typical.

You rolled your eyes at his cruelty. Of course she wouldn’t be reading fucking Dostoevsky at her age.

Remembered what it was like being in an English class with Donnie gave you a headache. He had great ideas but god forbidden you had an opposing idea. He would scoff and roll his eyes. It drove you crazy. He wasn’t always like that thought, at one point he used to encourage your ideas and even swap notes with you.

You were cut from your thoughts once again when the door bell went again, fortunately this time the pizza man was the one on the other side.

Sam ate some pizza, you no longer felt hungry but you did eventually managed to calm Sam down. The pair of you just chatted about whatever she wanted. She was telling you about some childish drama in her friendship group and you nodded your head pretending like it wasn’t the funniest shit you’d ever heard. Childhood drama is always hilarious when you’re no longer a child.

Despite being distracted by Sam, you kept thinking about the boy upstairs. “Do you think your brothers eaten?”

Sam shrugged her shoulders “who cares?” annoyance laced in her voice at the mention of her older brother.

You said nothing and proceeded with her homework.

Once she had finally finished she was ready to sleep. Her expression exhausted and she yawned after almost every word of her sentence.

“I’m- not even like- that- tired.”

You giggled at her before telling her she should probably head up to bed but you did promise to braid her hair first.

“Thanks for keeping me company (y,n), you were always my favourite out of Donnie’s friends” she smiled and hugged you at the bottom of the staircase.

The word ‘friend’ lingered for a while in your head. It was true, you were friendly at a time. It sucked because he felt good to be around for a time.

You stayed downstairs as she marched off to bed, whispered a sweet “goodnight” as she made her way to bed.

There was still around an hour and a half until Eddie and Rose were supposed to be home and you hadn’t seen anything of Donnie since he had come home. It was weird, you felt like you hated him but you also wanted to be around him. You especially wanted to know why he hated you. A part of you hoped that maybe he’d go back to his old self but instead you pushed him into the back of your mind and stared to clean up a little.

Once you had cleared up you sat onto the couch and grabbed a book from your bag and stared to read. You only had a few chapters left so decided to try and finish them tonight.

You were so drawn into the book that you didn’t realise a familiar figure loomed behind you. Donnie stood behind the couch reading over your shoulder. After a couple second of you not noticing his presence, he leaned down to your ear.

“Good choice.”

You jumped and your head snapped round to Donnie, almost slapping him out of instinct as a small yelp slipped past your lips.

“What the fuck Donnie. I could have woken up your sister. What’s wrong with you?”

His face was close to yours, and a small smile crept onto his face as he watched your second of distress. “Hello to you too (y,n)”

“Why are you being so friendly? Thought you couldn’t stand me?” You asked with your brows furrowed and your tone daring. You weren’t even with his stupid friend anymore so you had no clue why he was still such a dick.

“I’ve never said that.”

His answer was short and blunt but he had that smug grin on his face. Not one that radiated happiness or flirtation but something else. Power maybe? Like a wolf who had corned a bunny and laughed hysterically as it tried to escape.

You didn’t try to escape from him though. You kept your eyes locked onto his, not daring to dart your eyes away as a sign of weakness.

“You didn’t have to.”

He however did not have any snarky remarks in response. Instead he made his way round to the spot on the couch next to you and snatched the book from your hands.

“Ah 1984. George Orwell. You know when I tried to explain to your small minded boyfriend. Oh no. Ex-boyfriend, the concept of this book it was exhausting.” He rolled his eyes dramatically with that mean playful look on his face.

Why on earth was he doing this? Mentioning your ex boyfriend, calling his own friend small minded, even speaking to you. You racked your brain on why he was doing this. Sure you had known he hated you but that usually manifested itself through his lack of interest in engaging with you or his need to argue with everything you ever said. Now it was like he was taunting you by giving you this almost flirtatious, slightly sadistic attention. It was so odd but so hypnotising.

“But then again, I never did understand why he was with someone like you.”

You couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult. Someone like you? What exactly did that entail.

“What are doing Donnie?”

Your brows were furrowed slightly and your eyes a little sad, completely fed up of trying to work out his cruel ways, or even justify them to yourself.

You and Donnie had been somewhat friends before you started dating his best friend, but as soon as you did he became a new person. When you’d occasionally chat in the library about whatever book you were studying he’d always smile or when you’d catch each other on the way home and he’d be a little awkward but totally engaged with whatever you were saying, it was nice. That all came to a stop when his friend had started to pay you attention. You thought maybe Donnie felt as though you’d stolen his best friend and for that you did truly feel sorry.

You were now face to face in the dimly light room. Just a lamp illuminated the two faces.

“What were you doing (y,n)?”

He was no longer smug but he had caught and attitude with you. There something underlying in this anger in his voice. A deep irritation sat on his tongue.

“What do you want me to say Donnie? Sorry I didn’t live up to the expectation of being your friends dream girl, or sorry that you felt abandoned by him?

He shook his head and let out a hysterical laugh. As if your words were a pathetic joke.

“Ugh (y,n) I honestly thought you were smarter than this. I didn’t give a fuck about losing ‘crucial friend time’” He mocked.

“It frustrated me that someone as smart as you would even consider giving someone like that your time of day. Someone who you couldn’t converse with about anything slightly philosophical or opinions on a new book or poetry, because ‘books are useless, or ‘metaphors are stupid’. Mimicking his best friends voice as he spoke.

You said nothing. You were speechless and your brain hurt from trying to work him out. You just thought to yourself after his little outburst. Then it hit you. Was this jealousy?

“Why do you care so much Donnie? It’s not like I could talk about poetry or a new fucking book with you. You wouldn’t even talk to me.”

You snapped back, testing him. Was he truly jealous of not you, but your ex?

You were both still face to face. Inches away from each other.

“Only after you climbed into bed with someone who didn’t deserve you.” His voice was assertive and filled with envy yet his voice was low.

The realisation on how close you two had gotten finally hit the both of you. You were staring at him with your lips slightly parted and a slight confusion brushed your features. Why did you find this hot? God, you told yourself this was wrong but the sound of jealousy in his voice made your chest heave with excitement.

The sound of your heart beat was loud, it felt as though your heart had been placed to your ear. His lips were so close to yours. But you were upset, with another overwhelming feeling aching in your chest. Lust?

His eyes were still fixed on yours. “It should have been my bed you were climbing in.”

He brought his fingers up to your jaw possessively.

The two big black holes that had replaced his usual pupils drew you in. His eyes trailed down to your slightly parted lips. There was a part of you that wanted to cry and shout at him for being such a dick, but you couldn’t. It was like you had been hypnotised. Or maybe you’d just awoken from the trance you’d been under. This complete and utter blindness towards Donnie’s feeling towards you, or yours for him.

Amongst your silence he crashed his lips to yours. The kiss was hard and desperate. He pushed his tongue past your lips and you let a small moan slip. His hands cupped either side of your jaw as his teeth sank into your bottom lip.

A small hiss left your lips at the sharp pain that send a shock through your body. Donnie’s hand trailed down from your jaw to neck and his hand slowly snaked it’s way around to your throat. He added a little pressure, not enough to hurt you but just enough to make you feel everything more intensely whilst his other hand brought some hair behind your ear.

He pulled away from the kiss, keeping his hand exactly as they were and just admired the mess of emotions plastered along your face. Anger, confusion, fear and lust. To him you looked like a beautiful oil painting, so many different things happening at once and he got to be the observer. The artist even, controlling what you felt next.

“Donnie” You whispered.

“Shh baby. I’ve got you now.” There was an element of comfort in his voice but mainly possession. A wider grin played on his face as he said those words, violently bringing his lips to yours once again.

The feeling of his long fingers inching closer up skirt and thighs made you want to cry out and tell him exactly where to touch you. But you didn’t.

The slight pressure from his veiny hand wrapped around your neck and the near brushes to your clit through your underwear, were getting you so worked up.

“Donnie, please.” you whispered against his lips, your voice quiet and needy.

He practically growled in response “Oh now you want me? Such a slut.”

As you whimpered underneath his tough he chucked into your ear. “Bet he couldn’t make you feel this good.”

You came quickly under his palm, your head was a mess. There was so many emotions running through, it was like ecstasy. He was a drug.

“Mhm, good girl. If only you hadn’t been so stupid, could have had this ages ago.”

He pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to your lips.

Taking them into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his fingers while he starred at you intently, made him throb hard.

Snatching his fingers from your lips he grabbed your jaw harshly.

“Now be a good girl and sit.” He motioned to the spot on the floor between his legs. “Cmon baby, sit.”

You obligated, desperate to hear him feel good. Desperate to win his approval by being the cause of his pleasure.

Sat on your knees in between his thighs, he sat on the couch and wiped the mess from the corners of your mouth with his hand. The same hand in which his fingers had been inside you.

Reaching for his zipper, his hand caught your wrist tightly as he peered down at you.

“Did I say you can touch me?” From your angle he looked so much bigger than he was.

You huffed out a small whine, “Please can I touch you Donnie. Please?” You looked up at him with doe eyes, it used to work on him when you wanted him to do something for you. Usually homework. And it did.

He now brought his lips in between his teeth, admiring how pretty you looked on your knees.

He nodded his head and you quickly undid his zipper and brought his jeans down to his ankles.

The hard erection confined to his underwear made your mouth melt. You kissed him over his tight underwear and he groaned quietly.

Staring up at him innocently, he nodded his head, giving you permission to take off his underwear. Immediately you pulled down his underwear and grab him by his base.

You licked him from his hard base to his red tip and started to kitten lick around the top of his cock.

Donnie breathed heavily and grabbed your hair into a make shift pony tail roughly.

“Stop teasing (y,n) or I swear-“

The warning was enough for you to cut him off by taking him into your mouth suddenly. You bobbed your head and licked his veins as his grip on your hair got tighter.

“Fuck. Gonna cum soon. Look at me.”

He pushed you onto his dick deeper, it violently hitting the back of your throat as your eyes watered.

The sight sent him over the edge, shooting his cum down your throat as you swallowed submissively.

He let go of your hair and offered his hands to help you up, once again wiping away the mess he’d made from your lips with his finger.

“It was nice to see you again (y,n).”

(Not proof read) 🙏

[ipso-faculty]

I, an intersex autistic, want to complain about an autistic flag

This time I'm not complaining about using the white infinity symbol of the Métis. I wanna complain about this flag, made in 2021 by Autistic Empire:

This one upsets me as an intersex person. I get that the designers wanted to make a flag that's different from the neurodiversity flag, and that gold is a common choice for autism (Au = Gold).

The problem it's an icon on a solid golden yellow background, and that is Intersex Flag Territory.

For my perisex readers, these are intersex flags. The one on the left was made in 2013 by Morgan Carpenter so you'll hear people refer to it as the Carpenter flag sometimes:

A common technique in deriving flags for "intersex plus X" is to replace the purple ring with another icon in the same colour. Like these! (Note the intersex autism flag.)

So using the flag logic I'm used to for intersex flags, a rainbow infinity on a solid gold background means.... neurodivergent intersex!

I've talked to a few other intersex people who had the same reaction. It's kind of upsetting - intersex is so frequently invisible and sidelined at the queer table. My *emotional* reaction to the Autistic Empire flag has been "really, we intersex people can't have one thing?". (This is an emotional response not necessarily a rational response.)

Also annoying me is how Autistic Empire presents their 2021 flag on their Autistic Pride Day page beside the history that Autistic Pride Day started in 2005, which apparently gives people the idea that the Autistic Empire flag was created in 2005.

Best I can tell, this was the 2005 flag that Aspies for Freedom created. I know it was a rainbow infinity on a white background but I'm not 100% this was their design. (If you know please let me know!)

These oldest ND/autistic flags I can find with clear provenance are from 2013 and 2016:

The Autistic Empire design was created in 2021 by taking a 2016 neurodiversity infinity symbol design and sticking it on the gold background.

The prospect of solid gold backgrounds taking off as an autistic flag theme is scary to me. I've seen how queer Métis now have to explain that the Métis queer pride flag is not an autistic flag.

In my eyes, it fits into the greater trend of autistic flags being insensitive of other minorities' flags (see: the Metis flag). I think we as a community need to do better about this.

My fellow autistics I beg of you when doing flag designs: - google image search - has your idea already been used? Search the keywords you want before making a mock up - also text search on google and tumblr: <keywords> and <flag> - consult recommendations on how make an infinity symbol that does not look Metis - Wikipedia's list of flags by colour combination - once you have a mockup, return to google image search and this time search using the mockup - if you get feedback that your flag design is too similar to another group's flag, use this feedback. The person who is giving you the feedback might be upset, and if so, try to look past their tone and work past any defensiveness you may feel Edit to add: I'm keeping a list of autistic & ND flags that don't use the Metis infinity nor use a solid gold background here. If you know of more please let me know! <3

💛