#its supposed to last ten minutes 10 MINUTES

[mushed-kid]

OKAY I DID SOME OF MY HOMEWORK

[joeloverture]

morning cardio | dbf!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dbf!neighbor!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your neighbor and dad's longtime buddy catches you sneaking back home after an underwhelming hook-up. you want more — he provides. warnings: (18+ mdni) dbf!neighbor!joel, age gap (23/50), reader has a bad relationship with her father, reader's father is overly strict, reader hooks up with an oc, dirty talk, soft!dom joel, degradation, praise, thigh riding, 1 spank, titty slapping, daddy kink, exhibitionism but nobody sees, almost caught, heavy petting, misogyny for sexiness that joel doesn't actually believe in since he's a sweetheart [no use of y/n] word count: 3.7k a/n: watch me almost exclusively post dbf joel. watch me. also, mind the tags, they've changed slightly since i posted the teaser. this was supposed to be a series. this is no longer the case bc i'm indecisive. sorry.

Mistake number one: your eyes are crusted shut with the mascara you’d forgotten to wipe off.

Mistake number two: the bed you wake up in is not your own.

Mistake number three: sleeping with your neighbor.

Rubbing your mascara-sealed eyes, you blink yourself into consciousness and instantly regret it. There’s a moment of stillness, time stretching as you take in the room underneath the swelling orange sunlight. The window is cracked just enough to give you a glimpse at the world outside — birds chirping, sprinklers spritzing, cars crunching gravel as they pull out of the driveway. Surrounding the narrow, rumpled bed is a graveyard of orphaned socks. A box fan whirrs in the corner. The room had felt much cleaner past midnight when it was only the yellowed street lamp outside shining through the window. Then you spot the digital clock on the cluttered bedside table reads 6:10, ten minutes later than you’d wanted to be awake for, and time returns to its regular pace.

Your heart kicks awake in your chest, veins going cold. You kick the sheets off of your sweaty body, roll out of bed, and stumble two steps before planting your feet on the carpet below. Even that isn’t enough to stir your hookup. Dylan Andrews.

It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Both of you were home for spring break. Both of you had flirted at the block party with each other. He was only decent-looking and mediocre with his hands, but you needed a break from spending another night in your childhood bedroom. What better way to do it than with a dick appointment?

Again. It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Sneaking out underneath the nose of your strict, tough-as-nails dad was the easy part. Sneaking back in? Less easy. And to make matters worse, you were already ten minutes behind.

Shit.

You tiptoe across the room, naked as the day you were born, and stuff your underappreciated lingerie into your backpack. Without even putting your panties or bra on, you hop into your shorts and wrestle with your hoodie. By the time you’re out of Dylan’s room, it’s 6:12.

The difference between your dad and Dylan’s mom? She doesn’t give a shit what side of town Dylan wakes up on or how much alcohol is sloshing around in his system as long as he’s safe. You’re not the first girl to do the walk of shame out of Ms. Andrews' generic McMansion house, and you’re far from the last.

She’s downstairs in front of the coffee maker, still wearing her pajamas and doing a Dollar General crossword when you slip past her kitchen unnoticed. The door clangs shut behind you, and you figure she must see you walking down the cul-de-sac.

Your dad always leaves for work at 6:45 after a freezing cold shower and a steaming cup of black coffee for balance. You can only hope his shower ran a little late and that he isn’t at the dining room table already. Cramming two steps into one, you continue with your beeline down the awakening street.

You’re followed home by the mailboxes and flower beds, the pebbles you kick with every step. You’re almost to the property line, prepared to make a mad dash to your front door when you hear the faint call of your name. You skid to a stop, and turn to face the source: the craftsman-style house next door.

And there he is – Joel Miller, sitting on one of the cushioned chairs of his front porch in nothing but his sleep shorts and a t-shirt, legs spread as wide as the chair can accommodate. There’s a smug, knowing look on his face, one that says I’ve caught you. See how you can get out of this.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been face to face with Joel — Mr. Miller. You’d think you’d see him more often, with him being your dad’s buddy and your neighbor, but it’s been since summer. You’re sure he must be having the time of his life by joining your just got laid parade.

“You’re up awful early,” he calls, beckoning you up the driveway with a come-hither movement of his fingers. Leaving your dignity at the curb, you pad up the yard to his porch, climbing one of the stairs to lean against the gutter that feeds into his shrubbery. Pollen and moss is scattered across the wooden deck, surrounding a package that he hasn’t bothered to pick up yet. His guitar is off to the side, propped up against the doorway of the house. You wonder if he’d been playing when he’d seen you walking by.

Joel’s covered for you before, briefly and sparingly. Taken the fall for the half-empty bottle of fireball in your dresser even though he’d never go within ten feet of that shit, blamed it on himself for accidentally leaving it behind after fixing a wheel that had jumped off track for you. Even though your dad had chewed him out for drinking on the job, he’d still managed to sneak it back to you with the wise words of hiding it in a sock next time. You’d been two months past your twenty-first when that had happened, and maybe Joel had pitied you after realizing how authoritarian his friend was.

You aren’t as sure if he’ll pity you now.

“Needed some fresh air,” you defend lamely, hands hanging limp by your sides.

“Needed some cock?” he corrects, and his bluntness makes you choke. He seems relaxed for the words that just came out of his mouth, fingers drumming on his impossibly large thighs, a playful smirk resting on his lips.

You sputter, “No! Jesus, what the hell–”

“I got eyes, hun. Saw you leave that Andrews kid’s place. Clearly he didn’t stick it to ya that good if you’re still walkin’ steady,” he comments. His head tilts.

“Joel,” you hiss, eyes flitting to your dad’s house next door. He seems to read your mind, his smirk widening.

“Wonder what your pops would think. Bet I have a pretty good idea. His little angel, sneakin’ around and whorin’ herself out.” He clicks his tongue at you. “A damn shame.”

Heat spools low in your stomach and down to your unsatisfied center. You wish you’d worn darker colored shorts instead of the flimsy gray things you have on. There’s no barrier of your panties to stop yourself from leaking all over them, and with the way Joel’s looking at you, eyes dark and sly, you’re wishing there was.

“Can’t even imagine what you’re gettin’ up to at that college ‘a yours. Bet you had five guys inside of ya all at once, and I sure ain’t talkin’ about burgers, hun.” He lounges back in his chair, watching you.

You feel yourself gush. Heat burns in your thighs, and they rub together on instinct, seeking to extinguish that brimming ache between your legs. You bunch your hands in the fabric of your sweatshirt and can’t stop yourself from squirming underneath his gaze. It’s not like you’ve never thought about this, this with him of all people when you’re underneath your covers and your hand finds the warm junction between your thighs. Always unattainable. Always just out of reach.

You whisper again, “Joel,” but this time, it comes out as more of a moan. Humiliation warms your cheeks and chest, forming a different kind of pit in your stomach.

“Hmmmm?” Joel hums at you with a raised brow. He’s casual, indifferent, almost. But then his eyes flicker up and down, stopping at the wet patch smeared across the front of your shorts, the way your thighs press tight, tensing before letting go. “Ah. A little slut shamin’ gets you all riled up, hun?” That tears a whimper from you. He does that stupid come hither motion again, and like a lost dog, you listen. Standing in front of him, you feel completely, utterly exposed.

He adjusts himself in his chair, and you swallow the building lump in your throat when you see his bulge hardening. It sends another zap of heat to your core, and then another, more surprised one when his hand goes up to grab at your tit. Your breath catches as he thumbs one of your hardened nipples. A triumphant noise echoes out of him. “Braless, too?” His other hand goes down to your shorts, playing with the waistband. “Prancin’ around in these short, skimpy things, too. Practically giving the whole neighborhood a free peep show.”

His hand slides lower. Lower. Pans over to the crease of your thigh and then his thumb is planting over your clit, rubbing only once before he pulls away. “Messy pussy. Bet you stained the guys sheets.”

You’re quiet, staring at him, his wicked fucking expression, those hands that look like sin itself. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Ah. Poor baby. All this effort and you didn’t even get to come.” He just looks at you. Unmoving. Not doing a single damn thing to get you there.

“Please, Joel,” you whisper, embarrassed by the gritty need already embedded into your voice when he’s hardly even touched you.

And he’s still wearing that wolfish look, that tainted-with-intention gleam in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what you do want when he asks, “What? What do you want?” He licks his lips, a fleeting moment.

You look over your shoulder, at the rising street. Anyone could have their windows cracked. Anyone could hear you confess on this porch. Still, you murmur, “I… I want you to make me come, Joel.” Your voice shivers a little bit along with the stroke of wind that wisps against the backs of your thighs.

His brows raise together, now. His head tips forward. “What was that? A little louder. You know, my ears really ain’t the sharpest these days…”

Fucking bastard.

“I want,” you say again, fighting to stop your voice from wavering, to keep it not too loud but not too quiet. “you to make me come.”

Joel sucks on his teeth for a second. “Ohhh. Now I don’t think that’s really fair, hun.” He gives you a mockingly sad look.

“Why?” you ask, and you know you sound as whiny as a petulant child. But he’d been correct earlier. You put in all of this effort, sneaking out for a thrilling night that had turned into something more like two sweaty bodies moving together and only one of them feeling good from it. You want to feel good. You’re tired of looking at the right and the wrong. Joel’s sitting in front of you, his thumb still smelling like your arousal; that’s what’s right.

“You’re out here breakin’ all the rules. Shouldn’t be rewarding you for that, sweetheart. Besides, it’s a little fucked up, dontcha think? Makin’ you come all over me while your pops, my buddy, is none the wiser gettin’ ready for work next door?” His vulgarity only weakens you even more, pussy clenching and begging to be filled. You’re about to protest again when he cuts in, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help ya out.”

Your heart pedals in your chest, eager and wanting. But Joel, instead of getting up and elbowing you inside like you expect, stays right where he is. He pats one of his splayed thighs, the grin on his face only widening. Your face contorts. Joel hears your question before you ask.

“What? Never humped someone’s leg before? With how much of a bitch in heat you’re actin’ right now, I’m surprised.” You can feel the shock on your face plain as day. Joel jerks his head down to his thigh, egging you on. “Better hurry up if you want my help, sweetheart. Pretty sure your dad’s about to get goin’, and I sure don’t have all day, either.”

The rapidly shrinking part of yourself that isn’t consumed with desire tells you to take a step back. That anyone, God forbid, even the Adlers across the street could witness this. Talk about a free peep show.

You think of the alternative: sneaking back into your house with a hope and a prayer that your dad won’t find you, backpack over your shoulder and shoes on, as you climb the stairs back to your bedroom. Open up your Joel-advised dresser drawer of things your dad says you shouldn’t have and pull out your vibrator. Do the same old hassle of a routine, desperately trying to make yourself come. Reach an unfulfilling peak.

Or… take what Joel’s offering you. Risks and all.

You take a tentative step forward, glaring at Joel when he chuckles because of your hesitance, and plop yourself down on his thigh. The pressure against your clit immediately pulls a whimper from you. His big hands fix themselves on your hips, holding tight, but not too tight as to hold you captive against him. There’s still the faint existence of the Joel you’ve always known, considerate and sweet and all southern gentleman, that exists behind the guise of his dominance. 

You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, breathing heavy against him as you get a slow start to grinding your hips on his thigh. Although your movements are tentative, uncertain in nature, your head is already going fuzzy.

“Bet you’re only this wet cause that boy already put a new load in your dishwasher.” You scoff at him in disbelief — both at how much more wet it gets you, and how foul his words are. He chooses then to jerk you forward by the hips. You cry out as your pussy drags along the thick expanse of his thigh, clit catching on the bunched up fabric of your rumpled shorts.

“Zip it, you fuckin’ hussy. Ain’t a damn soul in this neighborhood that wants to wake up to you sobbin’ while gettin’ off on this thigh.” One of his hands drifts back to squeeze at the flesh of your ass. You hear the spank before you feel it, a sting that echoes and sticks right between your legs. He’s effortlessly strung a barbed wire of humiliation around your body. The lack of power makes your thighs clamp down around his, and you can’t tell if you crave more of it or despise it.

Unable to decide which, you loudly, exaggeratedly moan into his ear, still rocking down on his lap. It resounds through the neighborhood, the springboard roofs ricocheting you coquettish noises down the street and through the flowerbeds. A spooked crow lifts off of the power lines behind you, and you hear it squawk as its wings beat and carry it away.

Joel cocks his head at you, brow raised. “So it’s not just your legs that have a problem stayin’ shut. It’s your nasty mouth, too.” His hands migrate up your sides to your tits, which jostle with every flighty movement across his thigh. Before you know what he’s doing, he tweezes at your nipples in a way that makes you melt into him, forehead falling flat against his neck. And then he lands a hard smack across your chest, pleasure with a bite. Your hips jolt. “Behave for daddy before I make you walk next door draggin’ a snail trail behind ya.”

You know he doesn’t mean your real dad. A new rush of heat settles in your stomach, tightening your cunt from an ache to an insatiable thrumming that only Joel can solve. “Fuck,” you almost shout, but end up muffling into his skin with an open-mouthed kiss. He sighs, adjusting under you. The change in angle on your clit makes you whimper, especially when you feel his hardened length smushed against the outside of your thigh.

Your hand goes down to grip it, to participate in the push and pull, the cat and mouse, but he shakes his head, pulling it out of the way. He holds you by the small of your back, urging you to keep rubbing on him. “You’re lucky I’m even givin’ you my thigh,” he spits. “Ain’t gonna let you play chutes and ladders tryna make me come when I know damn well where that hand was last night.”

“Daddy,” you pout at him, lower lip jutting out.

He only shakes his head. “Don’t start.”

Whining in agitation, you manage to school yourself into behaving like he’d told you to. Every grind of your hips welcomes pleasure, beckons it, activates the porch light inside of you that invites it inside. You go limp against Joel as he guides you back and forth, and even limper when he tightens the muscle underneath your soaking core. Your hands anchor themselves on his broad shoulders, nails carving into his skin through the flimsy material of his shirt. He hisses underneath you, a break in his seemingly titanium resolve. You feel yourself getting closer, heat wreathing around your stomach, cunt clenching.

In your house, the foyer light flickers on.

Your hips stall over Joel’s as you see your dad’s backlit silhouette moving around in the foyer. Likely sliding on his shoes, patting his pockets for his wallet and his work phone…. You have two minutes at best.

Joel’s eyes follow your distracted line of vision. His amused chuckle warms the back of your neck. “Oughta hurry up if you don’t wanna get caught. Your old man would be in for a rude awakening, headin’ to work and finding his precious little girl fuckin’ my leg like a whore,” he murmurs.

He bounces his leg underneath you, and you bite back the needy cry that threatens to slip out. It feels so good, too good for you to think about anything other than the haze of arousal and pleasure that hovers over your head like a perpetual fog. You return to grinding down on him, hips pumping with a greater, renewed speed. “Attagirl,” Joel croons at you, and the hand at the small of your back presses harder, pushing you up and down his thigh.

Short, strained breaths of yours meet the morning air, eyes pinned on the rectangular window. It’s a golden-washed reminder of how wrong this is. Your dad would blow a gasket, see red, breathe fire at you if he knew exactly what was happening just a few feet away from his front yard.

But you forget all about that when Joel’s calloused fingers cup your chin, nudging you to look at him. His eyes are all pupil, darkened with something like starvation, something like want. “Don’t look at him. Look at me,” he coaxes, and he bounces his thigh again.

You’re close, you can feel it. He can feel it, too, in the way that your thighs fasten around his, your cunt rocking on him as your fervor makes the whole front porch shake and shudder. Tossing your hips back and forth, you wanted it, but now? Now you need it. Your stomach tightens, your legs shivering below you as your cunt gushes all over both of your shorts. “That’s it, baby, come on me like you were beggin’ to. ‘S alright, nice and easy for daddy, mhm?” He tenses his thigh one final time, and you lurch over that edge. “Gooood girl,” he hums as your cunt flutters against his leg. “You’re a daredevil, aren’t you?” he asks, jerking his head toward your house.

You figure you must be, after what you just did.

You’d planned on staying there, riding it out and trembling against his warm chest. But the garage cranks open. You jolt off of Joel’s lap, damn near teleporting across the porch with how fast you move. Joel smirks at you, crossing his unfucked leg over his freshly fucked one, where you’d rubbed your cum all over his skin until it’d glistened. The sight warms your stomach all over again, but it doesn’t last – nerves spasm in your ribcage as your dad ducks out into the driveway.

You fumble with your shorts, pulling them down and crossing your hands in front of the obvious stain on the gray fabric. Your dad squints across the yard, cupping a hand over his eyes. “Miller?” He calls your name shortly after, and you straighten. “You’re up early, kiddo.”

You open your mouth, on the precipice of a lie that you know won’t be good. It’ll come out unsteady, dishonest, and uneven. 

Joel points at the package at the foot of his doorstep. “My toolbox got sent to yours,” he explains. “Damn postal. ‘Bout as good as the Boston Post Road these days. But your kid’s got me covered. Raised her right.”

For the second time, Joel Miller covers for you. You have no idea where this leaves you, standing under your dad’s scrutinizing gaze. With your cum cooling and sticking to your folds the same way it’s cooling and sticking to his leg, Joel knows your secret. And he’s keeping it.

Your dad only gives a shallow nod, looking between the two of you. “Well,” he hooks a hand back at his truck. “I gotta head off to work.” He shifts on his feet, this time pointing to you. “And you head back inside, kiddo. Too early for you to be up and movin’.” Of course it is.

You stare at the ground, the pollen and stray leaves below your feet. Finally, you settle on a nod. Shallow and halfhearted, much like his. Your dad, satisfied, retreats back into the garage. You hear the truck engine come to life.

“You heard the man,” Joel says. You tighten your fists, moving to step away, but the way Joel’s eyes glimmer has you loitering. He lowers his voice. “See you soon, daredevil.”

That damned nickname. “How do you know I’ll be back?” you retort under your breath.

He shrugs. “I’m sure there’ll be more… ‘packages’.”

You blame the heat in your body on the rising sun, sweat clinging to the back of your neck as you plod off through the front yard. There’s only one thought in your head as your dad pulls out and you close the garage. Mr. Miller can’t happen again.

Mistake number four: thinking you’re telling the truth.

[revasserium]

A request for Zayne with the prompt, "a note on public health" 🙏🫶☺️

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

32. a note on public health

zayne; 1,519 words; fluff, teeth-rotting fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", zayne!branded humor, vague innuendos, established relationship

summary: a couple of public service announcements.

a/n: zayne cares much about your health ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

001. sleep

For optimal health, one should get eight to ten hours of sleep per night.

You try to stifle a yawn as Zayne glances over the day’s news, projected onto the smooth white tabletop. He looks up, eyes narrowing as you freeze halfway through, attempting to mask the motion with a soft cough.

You reach for your half-finished coffee but Zayne tugs it away with a soft sigh.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?”

You purse your lips, averting your eyes as you reach for a slice of toast, tugging off a corner and stuffing it in your mouth.

“Would’ve slept better if someone hadn’t kept me up past my bedtime.”

This time, it’s Zayne who looks away, coughing as he sips at his own coffee.

“I made sure we finished at a reasonable hour.”

You jerk upright, eyes wide, mouth dropping open, a hot flush working its way into your cheeks. You wonder how he can keep such a straight face, how he looks so fundamentally unbothered. But then, he lets out a light chuckle.

“But you’re right — they say it’s not good to have strenuous exercise right before bed. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Zayne!” you toss a crumpled bit of napkin at him, your heartbeat pounding at the back of your throat.

Zayne’s eyebrow flicks upward as he picks up the piece of tissue and gently lobs it into the trash can next to the kitchen counter before going back to this breakfast, the faintest hint of a smile shadowing his lips.

002. water

Adults over 19 should drink 1.5 to 2 liters of water a day for optimal health.

“Hello? What is it?”

“Hi! Uhm… where are you? I don’t — I don’t see you.”

“I’m… at home.”

“What? But… the app says you’ve arrived…”

Zayne sighs, “Did you dial the wrong number? This is Zayne.”

“…Oh! Oops.”

“Where are you? Have you been drinking?”

You hiccup, and he can almost see you shaking your head the way you do when you want to deny something you’d obviously been doing. He pushes up from the sofa, grabbing his coat.

“Not… not a lot — Tara just wanted to celebrate since —“ you hiccup again, “since it’s her first promotion, y’know?”

Zayne hums, “Mhm. Where are you?”

“No, no! It’s okay! I called a cab —“

“Cancel it. I’ll come get you.”

“But…”

“Cancel it. And send me your location.”

Thirteen minutes later, you’re climbing into the passenger seat of Zayne’s car with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be. Here.”

You blink down at the bottle of water Zayne is pressing into your lap.

“Oh… thanks, but I had a lot of water at the bar!” You turn to flash him a bright, proud smile, “See? I do listen to you!”

Zayne laughs as he pulls into a stop light, glancing over at you, the bottle of water cradled between your hands.

“Yes, and I suppose you’re very proud of yourself this time?” there’s a teasing lilt to his voice that lets you know he’s not mad. Still, you scowl.

“Shouldn’t you be proud that your patient is getting better at taking care of herself?”

Zayne sighs, reaching over the tug the bottle from your hands before unscrewing the cap and handing it back to you.

“Drink.”

You look like you’re about to argue for a split second before you catch the sharp look in his eye and bring the bottle up to your lips for a long drink. Zayne allows himself a satisfied smile as he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze.

“Good. Good girl.”

003. sun

To maintain healthy blood levels, aim to get 10 - 30 minutes of midday sun, several days a week.

“It’s been raining for forever…”

Zayne looks up from the patient chart propped up in his lap.

You’re sprawled across the sofa on the other side of the room, staring at the bleary, rain-streaked windows with a dull, world-weary expression. Zayne’s eyes flick toward the window for a second before sliding up to the large clock above his door.

It’s three minutes till the end of the day, and he’d agreed you could wait for him in his office while he finished up.

“It has.” He drops his eyes back down to the chart in his hands. The patient is doing well — all things considered. He should keep them for another night of study before signing off to let him go home. Zayne punches in the quick note in for his nurses before setting the chart down.

“Weather forecast says it’s gonna rain all through the weekend too.”

“Hm.” Zayne gets up, rolling his shoulders loose of the knots that had gathered there before rounding his desk, “Come on then.”

“Oh! Are you done? Are we… going to get dinner?” You jump up from the sofa, seemingly revived, a smile on your face. Zayne regards you for a moment before turning.

“Not yet.”

“Not… yet?” you trail after him as he shrugs on his coat and locks his office door.

He can feel your curiosity bubbling for the entire walk to his car through the vast parking garage. He allows himself a smile as you slide in and look at him expectantly. For a second, he toys with the idea of not telling you, of seeing just how long you can hold out before you start to pester him.

“You’ll see,” he says, just as you open your mouth to ask.

“So… it’s a surprise?” you ask.

He shrugs, pulling out of the parking space and cresting through the dimly lit parking structure till he turns onto the bustling city street.

“I suppose it will be.”

“Did you… plan this?” he can hear the hopefulness in your voice, the giddiness sparkling there like soda fizz.

“No, but did you say I should try to be more spontaneous sometimes?”

“Sure but…” he can hear you pouting, “well, fine, if you really don’t want to tell me.”

He keeps quiet just to savor in the silence, in the knowledge that you are here with him, and so, so eager to know what he has planned for you. He wonders if it’s cruel to enjoy this, to love the way you’re so reactive, to love… everything about you.

You blink as he pulls into a darkened road, wide as it is, to the clearly gated Botanical Gardens. Your confusion only grows as the night guard there gives him a cheery wave before punching a button and the giant gates hiss open to allow you both entry.

“Thanks,” Zayne says, lifting a hand as the night guard waves them through with a bright smile.

He casts you a single glance before chuckling, “His daughter was a patient of mine a while back — she had a genetic cardiac condition that — well,” Zayne breaks off as he parks the car in the first space and opens the door.

“Regardless, she needed surgery. It was risky but… we managed to save her.”

He leads you down the winding path to one of the smaller greenhouses, lit up so brightly from the inside that you have to squint your eyes as he punches in an access code and lets you both through the door.

The wall of heat that greets you both nearly knocks you off your feet but a moment later, you smile as the warmth seeps into your skin, and you turn your face up towards the high ceilings, speckled with what you’re certain are tiny little sunlamps, beaming down at the arid landscape below.

“Are these… cacti?” you wonder aloud, shuffling over to a large, bulbous plant with long thin spikes.

“Yes, these are the desert plants. They need prolonged exposure to sunlight to live.”

“Oh…” you bend down to read the short description of the cacti before moving onto the next one, and then the next one. Zayne trails behind you, watching with a soft smile and softer eyes as you point out the tiny little yellow flowers budding on one, and the strange shapes of another.

“Not that this isn’t fun and all but…” you turn to him as you finally return to the front of the greenhouse, having seen all the different varieties of desert plants in this particular area, “why’d you bring me here?”

Zayne holds open the door for you.

“You looked like you were missing the sun.”

Even beneath the barely there lighting of the parking lot, Zayne sees your blush darkening your cheeks.

“I — I guess I was,” you say as you slip once more into the passenger seat of his car, looking over at him, “but… weren’t you missing it too?”

Zayne’s grin skews as he tugs on his seatbelt, but he schools his expression back into its usual mask of stoicism as he answers, “No. I’ve already got you.”

[oriigami]

(spoilers for both knives out movies ahead)

i think what i really enjoy about knives out and glass onion is that they are, while not completely fair-play whodunnits, pretty close to it.

a fair-play whodunnit is a murder mystery which is entirely solvable by the viewer before the detective sums everything up at the end; the viewer is given the same information as the characters, and the same opportunity to figure everything out. this is a style some modern detective stories like to break to preserve the ability to catch the viewer off guard, as hbomberguy elaborates at some length in his sherlock is garbage and here's why video.

knives out gives you almost all the information you need. its possible to figure out on ransom's introduction that there is, at least, something missing from his story, that he returned to the house for some reason after leaving; the dogs were heard barking the night of harlan's death, and he is the only one they are seen reacting aggressively to. likewise, the audience hears nana saying 'ransom, are you back again already?' well before blanc learns about it and realizes its importance.

the only crucial piece of evidence any of the characters ever see that the audience doesn't is the toxicology report, which the audience doesn't get a chance to see before blanc's summation at the end revealing marta's innocence. but even with that omission, it's possible to guess harlan wasn't poisoned! marta lists off the symptoms of morphine poisoning at five and ten minutes on screen, and we see him exhibiting none of them, even after she's left and snuck back in, which must have been more than ten minutes after the initial injection. later we see fran suffering an overdose of the same drug, and she's far more debilitated than harlan was even in his last moments.

glass onion, of course, plays a lot more fast and loose with this concept, because it hides large swathes of the setup from the viewer until the halfway point. blanc actually has a lot more information than the viewer until we get the extended flashback in the middle of the movie.

however, after you know the circumstances of andi's death, like blanc says, you can completely guess that miles killed her! helen even suggests it during one of their first conversations, because it's obvious! of course he did! the only thing the movie does to delay this conclusion is throw out a swarm of red herrings in presenting motive and opportunity for everyone else, but the motive is obvious. the main thing both the audience and blanc need to realize is just that miles is stupid enough to do it. blanc uses his countless malapropisms as evidence when reaching this conclusion, but he doesn't even need to; it's absolutely obvious from the fact, readily available to the audience, that HE MADE HIS HOUSE INTO A BOMB.

likewise, the movie shows you that miles handed duke the drink that killed him, though this is later corrected during his self-serving flashback. you can see the outline of a phone in miles's back pocket after duke's murder even though miles doesn't own a phone, and even a brief shot of him sticking duke's gun in the ice bucket on the table.

additionally, putting a little bit of thought into miles's justification for the lights going out reveals it makes no sense. he was supposed to give a big speech as part of the murder mystery?? no he wasn't! he's dead at this point! he gets shot by the crossbow at dinner! why would he be giving a big speech at 10 pm? because he made up the lights going out on the fly based on blanc's earlier comment, and didn't think it through at all, like everything he does!

i'm not gonna pretend i figured either of these movies out ahead of time on the first viewing- i totally didn't! but i know when the next one comes out, i'm going to be watching very carefully, and probably doing a lot of rewinding.

[alonetimelover]

Could I request a dadrry instagram blurb?? That other one was amazing!!! Doesn’t have to follow on from the last one❤️

pairing: Harry Styles x famous!reader

summary: A little instagram blurb with dadrry, a new pleasing drop, and babies' drawings.

masterlist taglist

famous!reader 1 2

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pleasing

liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram, annetwist, harryupdates and 1 028 302 others

pleasing Fancy Friends are here and presented to you by our littlest ambassadors - Andy and Franny.

Behold and wait for the posts about all 8(!) new colours straight from our ambassadors' painting room, made specially for this occasion.

Find your pleasing.

view all 89 302 comments

harrystyles All smiles ♥️

yourinstagram My smiley baby!!!! 🥹

harryupdates whhhhaaaaaatt??? ambassadors???

ynupdates some cute babies

hArrysbtch oh my gooood

harrysmoustache i waited months and months for a drop that would cave me... I'm so buying all of the colours

user49 babies for ads?

user84 im conflicted now

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles and 7 202 403 others

yourinstagram rocking that farmer fit

view all 99 302 comments

harrystyles My two favourite girls

⤷ yourinstagram which ones exactly?

⤷ harrystyles No answer will be good

harryupdates weren't they just born?

⤷ yourinstagram that's how it feels! and now she walks

hArrysbtch i hate kids but i love all the clones from yn and harry

⤷ yourinstagram you make us look like a factory or smth

⤷ harrystyles or mad scientists

⤷ hArrysbtch im gonna take a social media break, you're right

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, ynupdates and 10 303 others

harryupdates HARRY and his older daughter at the Pleasing facility today in London!

view all 920 comments

hArrysbtch CEO!harry having a premiere in real life???

⤷ harrysmoustache weren't you supposed to take a social media break?

⤷ hArrysbtch shhhh

ynupdates ceo and ambassador are having a meeting

stylesbabie yeah. I'll be the one to start talking about his back, won't I?

⤷ harrysfan92 i mean, its right there

ynsmybestie taking care of business

——————————————————————————————

pleasing

liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram and 2 002 202 others

pleasing Andy and Franny present you first three drawings that inspired Fancy Friends collection. Pieces are called respectfully: 'Mummy and Daddy', 'Daddy('s) house' and 'You and me'.

'Just, just tell them that they, they all can paint nails. It's funzy!' said Franny while incorporating her work.

Find Your Pleasing.

view all 83 302 comments

harrystyles yourinstagram I love your hand

⤷ yourinstagram it's called perspective

yourinstagram My two artists!!!

annetwist ❤️

hArrysbtch MoMA is waiting for them

harryupdates This. Is. Art.

ynupdates well hello you

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram and 10 302 202 others

harrystyles 'Daddy I did you on paper.'

view all 103 302 comments

yourinstagram 1:1 perfect drawing with full details

⤷ harrystyles Perfect.

hArrysbtch that's the same picture!

ynsmybestie these babies are spending days and night at that painting room

⤷ yourinstagram I wish. It was a 5 minute drawing cause 'i love daddy and kiwi'

⤷ ynsmybestie ohhhhhhh

ynsmymama melting

harrysfan82 this pleasing promotion is going HARD

⤷ harrysmoustache everything is sold out

⤷ hArrysbtch those babies are making more money than i do, man. that's unfair...

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 4 302 202 others

yourinstagram here's to the best father i know

(yes, i was terrified for the joints to stay in place. yes, babies found this as the best play in the world and repeated ten times. yes, his back looks gooood.)

view all 89 302 comments

harrystyles That's a lot coming from the greatest mother in the World.

⤷ yourinstagram your mum is right there

⤷ harrystyles Obviously, you're sharing the No. 1

⤷ yourinstagram ObViOuSLy

hArrysbtch 'yes, his back looks gooood' girl, you don't need to shout it to our faces

⤷ yourinstagram HIS BACK LOOKS GOOD

⤷ ynsmybestie i love her

harrysmoustache still not used to the fact that he is a dad

harrysfan82 I've never asked: do your kids know you're the Disney Princess?

⤷ yourinstagram they watched Tangled and didn't notice even after my live performance

[oracle-of-dream]

Photo Finisher

Minors DNI

Summary: Yechan is from the rookie idol group, 82Majors, and his managers have set him up in the studio to get some amazing photos. But he's heard of your other prizes for good behavior, so he's interested in your other services...

Warnings: Male Reader, Blowjob, facial, degradation, domYechan, cum eating

Wordcount: 1.7k

You spent your morning selecting the songs for the playlist vibe you needed for today's photoshoot. Rookie idols were always tricky to deal with. Most were scared so stiff that they could hardly count as models...

Today, Yechan from 82Majors was your muse. The appointment was a last-minute order from management, and someone must've paid a chunk of money to call you in before noon. It's a part of your contract that you don't have to work before noon without an extra fee determined based on your mood for the day. It was 8am, so you told your boss to push for 40% higher than your usual rate. This usually moved companies away to pick a later time, but your boss immediately texted you back, telling you to get ready.

It was ten minutes before the photoshoot was supposed to start. Your staff set up everything from lights, cameras, software, and canvases. There was murmuring in the prep room, which is the room before entering the main studio, which meant the client had arrived. After some time, likely for hair and makeup to work him over, a young man with brown hair and strong cheekbones entered and greeted you.

"Hello, photographer y/n. It's a pleasure to be working with you, and thank you so much for taking our call so late minute." He bowed deeply.

"Yeah, hi. Just called me, y/n. Photographer y/n is a little much."

The boy nodded. "I-I'm Yechan, from 82Major!"

"I know who you are. I read the paperwork," you replied dryly.

Your morning coffee hadn't kicked in yet... This was going to be an extremely rough morning.

Yechan took his time to go around to the rest of the staff and introduce himself to each of them, handing out small gift bags from his company.

You looked at your phone for the time. 8AM.

"Okay, that's enjoy chitchat. I'm already at 30% on the irritated scale, and being behind schedule will make it jump to 50%."

With your clear directions, everyone hopped to attention and started scrambling to their stations. Yechan hustled off to get his hair and makeup re-touched before stepping onto the canvas.

"Yechan, if you have any issues or questions with the photos, tell me. The one thing I hate more than waking up early is someone who can't speak on issues.

Yechan nodded eagerly and took followed directions beautifully. Every single angle, down to the degree, was perfect. Clearly practiced. Because of that, you managed to wrap up the first set of photos easily.

"Let's take 10 and switch outfits. We're making excellent time, so let's keep the pace up." You announced to the team.

As you went back to your studio chair, Yechan approached you meekly.

"Yes?" you asked without looking at him, more interested in your phone.

"Um... I'd like to ask you about your services, sir." Yechan mumbled.

You rolled your eyes before looking at him. "My services? I'm a photographer. I take pictures. Be clear about what you want."

"Okay, then I'll be straightforward." Yechan took a deep breath before continuing, "I'd like to please you."

You raised an eye. "Please me? I'm happy enough that we're ahead of schedule. You want me to be happy? Keep working hard."

Yechan shook his head. "I don't know if there's some sort of secret code or something... it's honestly a little embarrassing to just say, you know."

You giggled in your seat, finally looking up from your phone. Yechan was a pretty good-looking man. Knows his angles, good body proportions, and a face card that doesn't look like it'll decline with its high limit. You bet he was about 6 1/2 inches, with a left curve. You read that he was from Canada and the brother of another idol, but you can't remember the brother's name...

You sat back in your chair. "Do you mean you want to have sex with me, boy?"

Yechan's face got pink instantly. "Well, they said you were really frank. But I still didn't–"

"So it's a no?"

"It's a yes! I do want to have... s–sex with you."

You smiled. "And what did you have in mind, young man?" The age gap between you wasn't big, but you could tell he was melting from you treating him like he's the younger in this situation.

"I want to do whatever makes you happy."

"So you have no plan? That's not very well prepared of you."

"I'm pretty skilled though! I got a few tricks!"

You smiled bigger. "Tricks? And what if I refuse? Yechan's face turned white. He clearly didn't consider the possibility of you saying no to him. "You didn't think I was some prostitute, did you? That you could just say, sex, and I'll give it?"

He shook his head, "No! Of course not–I'd never think that."

"Then tell me, what would you want? If you can have anything from this."

He looked around before getting closer to whisper. "Um... If I could choose. I think I'd be really into cumming on your face after you suck me off, and maybe I call you a few names and stuff..."

"Oh, that's it?"

He shrugged. "I'm a rather simple guy..."

"Then, simply guy, let's finish this up so we can get busy," you winked at him as you went off to find more of your staff, leaving him alone with a clear boner.

The photoshoot resumed, Yechan in his new outfit. The crop top really complimented his figure, and honestly got you more excited for what was coming. You could also tell he was pretty excited. His cock could barely stay inside his pants, a few pictures had his tip peeking out, and you personally deleted those to save him from the embarrassment.

After the photoshoot, Yechan went into the dressing room to get changed. You dismissed the staff for the night, thanked everyone for being present, and then walked into the dressing room.

"Hello? Anyone home?" You called.

Yechan let out a small yelp, covering himself. "I'm in here!"

"Yes, obviously. I came here to find you." You closed the door and locked it behind you. "I'm here to give you the reward you requested for being such a good boy today."

Yechan's face was red, his shirt and underwear were on, but his pants were still on the floor.

You winked at him, "easy access? For me? How considerate."

"That's not–"

You dropped to your knees and started crawling over to him. "This is your reward, remember? Anything you want goes, but if either of us says stop, we're done."

Yechan nodded, still covering his crotch.

You crawled right up to him, your face inches away from his dick. "Are you going to hide all day? Isn't it your desire to take charge?" You unbutton your shirt, letting it sensually slide down your shoulders, but not taking it off completely.

"So, I can just go?" Yechan asked again to be sure.

"Yep, just–" Yechan pulled your hair and pushed you into his crotch, making you huff his musk. Slightly sweaty, but pretty clean. You could feel his cock throbbing under the thin fabric, 6 1/2 inches, and curved to the left... You moved your hand to touch it, but Yechan slapped it away.

"Did I tell you to use your hands, s–slut!?" He hesitated at calling you a slut. But the submissive look in your eye reaffirmed him. "Use your mouth to take it out."

You maneuvered your mouth to his waistband, nose grinding against his abs, and dragged his boxes down. His cock smacked you in the face as you moved. His balls were heavy and full, he was throbbing like crazy, and even a slight graze earned a guttural groan. Yechan had really been waiting for you...

"Get to work, whore."

You look up at him, still keeping your hands off him as you caught his cock in your mouth and started licking.

"More than that, I don't want you half-assing it. I'm a busy man!" He pulled on your hair, pulling you into him to make you take more.

Yechan was starting to get more into it, which made you want to mess with him. He wouldn't last long if you tried to push him to it, but if he's so busy, then he can handle it. You straightened your back, corrected his hand to move your head and not pull your hair, and relaxed your jaw. Yechan noticed the change in your attitude as he started getting greedy. Pushing you deep, holding you there, all while telling you how much of an attention whore you are. You pressed him more, flattening your tongue and turning off the gag reflex. You were taking over.

"Wait, holy f–fuck," he moaned as he grabbed a nearby table. "Oh, you're so good. So, so, good at this." You squeezed his balls, earning more praise. "My balls too! Fu–fuck, baby just like that. Keep chugging it." He pushed you down, controlling the tempo, making it faster. "Your mouth is amazing, I–I'm gonna fucking cum." He almost whined as you pulled off of him, jerking him off and licking his tip. His pressure was building. Fast. "Please let me cum on your face!"

You giggled. "Say it in character!"

Yechan's words were still fumbling. "I–I will cum on your face?" He questioned before you squeezed his balls firmly. "God Damn," his cum shot out and landed on your face. "My... g–god." He wouldn't stop, pump after pump. It was at last 8 pumps, full of cum, now on your face. Each was accompanied by a thrust and whining moans from Yechan. You stroked him through it all, milking him completely before giving the tip a lick and a kiss.

"All done?"

Yechan breathlessly smeared his cum on your face, using his cock. Pushing it toward your mouth. "I'm sorry for the mess..." He said breathlessly.

You pulled out your phone and took a picture with Yechan. Cock still out and cum on your face, but a little less as you wiped some off. You put the tip back in your mouth for your picture, earning more begging from Yechan.

"P–Please! No more, I can't cum again!"

You help Yechan finish getting dressed and clean yourself up, sending him on his way and adding his photo to the folder with the others...

[naomikozura]

Playing With Fire: Chapter 10

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, violence, mentions of gun use, abuse, mentions of bombs, death, mental and physical torture, bodily harm, blood, angst no comfort, past trauma (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 11.7K

Summary: Six years ago...

Series Masterlist

Chapter 9 || Chapter 11

Six Years Earlier || Jason’s POV

Gotham Academy was known for its influx of high society students all of which were practically bred into the life of glitz and glamor. If there was one thing he hated more than criminal scum, it was that of the students at Gotham Academy. The uptightness, the rude, and mainly the ones who only talked to him in hopes to get to Bruce Wayne, his adoptive millionaire of a father. Jason never bothered to try and make friends, especially since he could sense their motives from a mile away. He didn’t care about school, his life revolved around nightlife. His responsibilities as Robin. Ever since he first put the suit on he felt exhilarated, he felt whole, like he was on top of the world. His day life was too mundane, too boring. 

The teacher rambled through another lecture, trying to get the students involved and even though a few did catch interest, Jason felt bored and ignored the teacher to look out the window. The class was right next to the open field that was by the entrance of the academy. He noticed three figures walking up the sidewalk to the front doors. It was a taller dark haired man, a red headed woman, and a smaller figure. A girl. close to his age or probably a year younger than him. Was she late? Was she new? 

“Mr. Todd. Would you like to tell us what we just discussed?”, Jason snapped to look at the teacher who stood tapping her foot impatiently. 

“I, um..”

“Focus. Next time I won’t give you a warning.”, Jason scowled at her comment, sliding down in his seat as he zoned out once again. Another 15 minutes passed and there was a knock on the door. The teacher stopped to open the door and the schools Head Director stepped through, the girl from earlier behind him. Jason immediately snapped up, his attention back in focus. 

“Good morning class. Sorry to interrupt Ms. Leonard but you have a new student for your second hour class. Class, this is (Y/n) (L/n). She’s new at Gotham Academy and she’ll be in your second year classes for the remainder of year and moving forward until graduation. Please introduce yourself during passing periods and make her feel welcome.” 

You didn’t say hello or even introduce yourself, you just moved to the first empty seat you saw and class continued for the last ten minutes before being dismissed. Jason followed behind you, seeing as some people tried to introduce themselves and you just ignored them. Aren’t new kids supposed to like this type of attention? 

The school day went by and Jason found that the two of you shared two classes together, which was a given since you were in the same year and Gotham Academy kept classmates close to build those networks and friendships. 

The day ended and Jason walked back to the Manor, his head focused on you all day. Why did you look familiar? He didn’t see you after class, especially since the last hour you had different classes. When he arrived home, he went to the kitchen to find Alfred preparing dinner for him, Dick, and Bruce. Jason walked to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and undid the cap as he heard Alfred’s voice echo through the room. 

“Good afternoon Master Jason. I hope school went well today.”, his voice was calm as it normally was, Jason watching as he placed something into the oven. 

“Hey Alfred. Yeah, it was interesting. We have a new girl in our class”, Jason said as he leaned over the counter, taking a drink of his water. 

“A new student? Isn’t it a bit late in the term?”

“That’s what I was thinking. Maybe her family was able to pull some strings and get her enrolled. She’s quiet.”, Jason thought back at your actions back at school.

“She’s probably just not used to such a place like the academy. You remember how overwhelming it was when you first started?”, Alfred had a point.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right Alfred.”, Jason grabbed another water from the fridge before heading upstairs. “I’ll be down for dinner in a bit.”

Jason closed the door, locking it before pulling out his laptop and trying to do a soft search on your background. He used Bruce’s background systems, the state or the art and yet, you were completely nonexistent. No background, no family, no education, nothing. But how did you get into Gotham Academy if you didn’t even have a public record? 

He thought, thinking of the names of the couple he saw walk you into the school. He typed in their names, and like he hit the jackpot, he was able to see their family history and that you were adopted recently by them. The East End Orphanage. Where all the kids who live on the street go if they’re under 18 and somehow get caught by the police. Jason knew that most kids preferred to live on the street than deal with the messiness of an adoption, to deal with the publicity and image that the families would get for helping a “troubled life”. It was an ego booster for the high class in Gotham. Nothing more. 

Yet, he wanted to give your particular family the benefit of the doubt. 

Maybe it wasn’t that way for you. 

Jason closed the laptop. He had no right looking into your background when he didn’t even know you. You could just be some other new student and mind your business and him his. Yet a tugging in his chest made it difficult to leave things just be. 

He ignored the thought as he changed out of his clothes and went into the gym, letting his mind drift into patrol training versus the new girl in his class. That needed his focus more. 

Jason looked out the window, taking in some of the seniors outside in the lawn playing soccer as he tuned out whatever his teacher was saying about midterms. Right then, the bell had rung for class to be dismissed, his body in autopilot as he grabbed his bag and walked into the hall, the crowds of students flooding the hallways as he made his way to his locker. Although Jason was well known and popular at the Academy, he often felt bored with the day to day, his friends being the only thing keeping him from just skipping class. That and Bruce would actually kill him if he found out Jason was skipping his classes. 

As he walked towards the lockers, he saw a familiar set of (h/c) hair, his heart skipping a beat as he watched you in front of your locker, your face buried in a textbook. Jason stopped in the hall, contemplating his next move as he bit his lip, his impulsiveness winning over logic. He walked towards you, trying to come up with an approach in the five seconds it would take to reach you. 

He walked towards you, all eyes watching as he reached your locker and your head lifted, turning to face him with a blank expression and darkness in your eyes. Damn. If he didn’t already know any better he would think you wanted to rip his head off with how dark and blank your stare was. You didn’t say anything, and it made him get a chill from the awkwardness that filled the air, but forced himself to speak with confidence. 

“Hey”, he said in a calm, even tone, casually leaning against the locker next to yours. 

You stared at him blankly, your face neutral with uninterest. 

“I’ve seen you around.”, he continued. “You’re new here right? I just thought I’d say hi.”

You glanced at him, your eyes cold and indifferent. You didn’t smile or reply right away. You just closed your book, pushing it into the locker neatly before closing it then turning towards him. “I’m busy.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, trying to keep his composure but you really were standoffish. “Hey, I’m not a bad guy, I just… I’d like to get to know you better.”

Before you could answer, Jason’s friends, who had been watching from a few paces away, decided to make their presence known. They swaggered over, clearly enjoying the spectacle. 

“Jason, are you seriously trying to talk to her?” one of them snickered. “You know she’s got a reputation, right?”, by the time Jason tried to catch you, you were long gone, disappearing into the ocean of people. He felt a tug in his gut, an annoyance flooding him as he listened to his friends continue their stupid spiel. 

Another friend stepped closer, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah, I heard she’s been in trouble—like, serious trouble. Thief, arrested, all that crap. Why waste your time?”

“Guys, seriously, lay off. I’m just trying to have a conversation.”, he protested. “She’s new, it doesn’t hurt to make transfer students feel more welcome.”

“She isn’t a transfer dude, she was picked up off the street.”

One of them threw their arm around his shoulders, leaning in mocking him. “Oh, man. Are you that desperate? C’mon you’re a Wayne. You can do better than that.”

“Seems like Mr. Wayne passed down the charm, always gotta be nice to everyone.”

“Shit, Jason. You could use that charm on any other girl, why her?”

“Why don’t we fuck with her, set her up on a fake date and see if she shows. Man that’ll be hilarious” 

Jason felt a surge of annoyance. What dicks. “You guys are assholes. Why are you guys even indulging in dumbass rumors, just because there’s talk doesn’t mean it’s true.” 

“It’s not about what’s true or not. She has a record, someone found her juvenile record, it’s fact. You’re really gonna get involved with someone like that?”

“C’mon man, you’re a Wayne, you got no business entertaining someone at that low of a level”

Little did they know he also had a juvenile record, luckily enough, Bruce was able to keep it off public. It was erased completely actually. Regardless of his name, thanks to his adoptive father, he was no different than you. The Wayne name was the only thing that separated him from who he was before Bruce found him. His jaw clenched at how easy it was for these assholes to rip into anyone they saw as beneath them. 

“Whatever. I’m not interested in rumors.”, he spit out, his friends only shrugging and laughing it off. 

“Ah, alright. We’re just fucking around. C’mon let’s go to gym. Coach will kill us if we’re late again.” 

Jason rolled his eyes, his head turning back down the hall, staring at the empty space where your presence lingered before he turned around and continued down the opposite direction with his so-called friends. 

He wondered if he’d see you at the Academy again, his mind filled with how different the entire interaction could’ve gone. He pushed the thought away as he continued down the hall, the day passing by and everything continuing as it normally did everyday.

Once school was released, Jason sat outside during the last few minutes of the day before heading off, heading a group of girls past behind him and started to laugh. Their voices clawed at his insides. 

“Is that…. Is that her?”

“Yeah, I heard that they took her off the streets after she got arrested”

“Who let a person like that into the academy? Have we started going downhill?”

He turned his head slightly to see what they were laughing at. Jason felt himself burn with anger, his chest filling with an anger he didn’t know how to control. He turned his head, looking at the girls as they stifled their laughs and pointed at you as you walked by. 

He knew the girls did nothing but start rumors, they were known for this at the academy but he felt something stab at him when he saw you trip and fall to the ground, the contents of your bag falling everywhere. This fucker. Jason thought as he saw a familiar set of blonde hair towering over you, mocking and laughing at you. 

“Looks like you still enjoy picking trash off the ground, streetrat.”, the comment alone made Jason boil. You were picking up your belongings when he saw the guy grab your arm and tighten his hand enough to make it noticeable. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you, street rat” 

Jason had enough, if he didn’t stop this no one else would. He was surprised they were even able to find out who you were in the past few weeks. Turns out the blonde’s father was in business with your adoptive father and he had mentioned the topic of adopting you from the East End Orphanage and so started the whispers in the hallways. Even Jason couldn’t ignore them. 

“Now, let’s calm down, yeah?”, Jason’s voice hardened, stepping in front of you to block you from view in hopes they would leave. 

“You’re lucky I don’t have time to waste on charity cases, Todd.”, and with that he left. 

“Sorry about that, you okay? It looks like your arm might bruise up”, Jason stretched his hand out to help you stand but you pushed him aside and walked away. 

“Hey! You’re walking away again?”, he hadn’t even had enough time to stop as you whipped around to look into his eyes, his heart skipping a beat. 

“Who are you? What do you want?”, you asked him with a sting in your tone. He looked at you with surprised eyes.

“I remember you, from a few months ago. I offered you water.”, he tried to get you to listen but you replied harshly,  not bothering to turn around. 

“No, sorry. I think you got the wrong person.”. 

He stood there in place as you walked off, heading back towards the courtyard to grab his own bags when he noticed the same blonde from earlier. He walked up, grabbing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. 

“What’s up with that, Todd? We don’t give people like her a second thought. This academy was built on prestige, don’t waste your time trying to convince her that she belongs here. She will never be one of us.”

“I think that’s a load of shit and you know it, Mitch.”

“Whatever. But know where your loyalties lie. You’re the son of Bruce Wayne, not some street rat who plays suits.”, with that, he turned and walked away. Jason watching his retreating figure. 

Little do they know. 

He breathed before walking back towards the manor. 

There was an overwhelming sensation flooding his body, the way he was able to take flight and feel the wind on his skin and feel free. For the first time in his life, Jason felt on top of the world. Jason took a deep breath, savoring the crisp night air as it whipped past him. He was stunting his new Robin suit that Bruce had helped update for his growing stature. The mask fit his face better and the utility belt held more variety of weapons.

The new Robin suit was more than just an upgrade; it was a symbol of trust and growth. Bruce had never given him this much space before, and Jason intended to prove he was ready for it. The suit's upgraded features and enhanced utility belt felt like an extension of himself, perfectly in tune with his movements. It was the best thing that he could receive almost like he was a kid opening presents on Christmas. 

He had the night to himself. It was rare that Bruce would let him out on his own, but he promised to stay out of trouble in order to get him to approve of his nightly adventures. He was at an age where Bruce trusted him to go out alone and not get into trouble. Trouble meant being potentially benched from the field and that was not something he wanted. Not when he felt on top of the world right now. 

He found himself going through the city, jumping from the roofs of buildings one after another. He came across a building that looked over the main streets of Gotham, the lights shining up from the ground. He jumped on the top of the roof and looked down at the streets. The sounds of the cars passing by and the small noises of the people left on the street filled the night to keep it from feeling eerie. 

Jason looked over the passing cars, his eyes looking over the streets until he turned his head, catching a glimpse of a figure sitting on the edge of the building. He used the compact binoculars in his belt to look, seeing a girl around the same age as him, her back facing him so she was oblivious to his quiet figure. He wondered what she was doing out alone in the cold, and why so late at night?

He jumped down from the building that was just a bit taller from where you sat. walking over to you, his stealth helping from making a loud noise when he jumped down. He noticed that she had (h/c) hair, reaching her mid back and it was a bit messy, blowing in the air since it started to get colder as the minutes passed. 

“It’s a bit chilly to be out here isn’t it?”, he said, announcing his presence. 

You turned around, looking at him with the most beautiful pair of (e/c) eyes he had ever seen. You were prettier than he thought. Hell, he can’t even remember if any of the girls at the Academy were as pretty as she was. Your skin being illuminated by the light of the city, noticing your knee bouncing from the cold. It was a lot colder tonight than the past few days. 

You saw his face and after looking down at his chest, the noticeable ‘R’ shining on his chest like a badge of honor and protection. You seemed to visibly calm down. That gave him the perfect in to get closer to you. 

“Shouldn’t you be with the Batman or did you finally get granted privileges?”, you spoke out, the sarcasm dripping from your tone. He smirked to himself, amused by your comment. 

“That’s funny, but I do go solo sometimes, get a feel of the streets.”, he walked over and stood next to where you were sitting, trying to act as cool as possible at the fact that he was sitting next to one of the prettiest girls he had seen in a while. Probably ever in his whole life, even more than Barbara. 

“What are you doing up here? Don’t you have a curfew?”, he genuinely asked, wondering why someone as young as you was sitting out in the middle of the night. Of course, she could ask the same to him. 

“I snuck out. Don’t necessarily care what the family tells me.”, he noticed the sadness in your tone and the fact that you didn’t say ‘my’ family but ‘the’ family. Were you adopted? An indentured servant? 

“I see, well, I’m Robin, what’s your name?”, he smiled at you, hoping he could get some sort of response. 

“If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”, Okay ouch. 

“Depends”, he said while swinging his feet, trying to act as nonchalant as he could to get a name out of you. 

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on how this conversation goes.”, Jason kept poking at you, hoping you would give your name even though he knew he couldn’t give his in return. 

“(Y/n).”

He smiled over at you before looking back over the city. It suited you well, it sounded like it would be the only name he would end up thinking about for the next few days.

“That’s a nice name”. 

He noticed your hands shaking, pulled open a small compartment to his belt and pulled out a little baggie, turning on the heat button and passing it to you calmly. You looked down at his hands before you hesitated in taking the item. 

“It’s a hand warmer”, Jason answered, knowing your question was stuck in the back of her throat. Your eyes narrowed slightly before taking it, he watched as you let the warmth sink into your skin and hold it in a tight grasp. 

“Why are you up here alone?”, he found himself a bit intrigued, he couldn’t quite place why he wanted to sit and talk to you, maybe it was just his hormones, puberty, or something else but he couldn’t bring himself to care for the reason. 

“It helps me escape.”. He paused not knowing what to say to that but somehow understood what you meant. Hell, he chose to become Robin to escape from living in the streets. Of course, Bruce found him and took him in, training him and showing him the ropes but it was still his form of escape. His freedom all wrapped in red, black, and yellow. 

“I don't have to think about the world down there, I can just escape reality for a while”, Jason stared at you for a moment longer, feeling the emotion that poured out of you touch him “This city hasn’t been kind to me, so being up here lets me escape that I live in this shithole.”

“Would you leave if you could?”, he asked. 

“Oh god, yes. If I could hop on a plane and disappear from this city forever I would do it in a heartbeat.”, Jason smiled at the response, a part of him having the same feeling. 

He felt like he could escape from his life on the streets when Bruce took him in. He felt like this second life as a vigilante distracted him from the cruelty in the world, wishing he could get rid of all the bad people in the world and make it a better place. 

“Yeah, me too.” he answered truthfully, hoping you’d find solace in his answer. 

Jason felt your eyes staring at him, and he turned to look at you. Everything seemed to fall perfectly into place, the moment was everything he needed at that point in time. Right when the moment seemed too perfect to be ruined, that familiar voice rang out through his comms. 

“Robin, where are you?”, he turned off his radio, forcing himself to his feet and stepping off the ledge. 

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”, he apologized and noticed your face glow with a small smile. It made him happy knowing there was someone who found the same escape in such a shitty city. Right as he turned to leave, he stopped, turning towards you, and speaking out. 

“I hope we can meet again soon, it’d be nice to get to know you more (Y/n).”.

~

~

~

Jason felt like a love sick boy, the days went by slowly when he wouldn’t see you. He knew the both of you went to the same academy, but he couldn’t risk making himself stick out that much to you. It would give away who he was too carelessly. Though, he enjoyed being able to spend the spare time of his patrol nights with you. You both shared your dreams and future aspirations, the way the world was cruel but there could be good in it too. 

The both of you had a lot in common, Jason especially liked that your eyes would shine when you talked about traveling and seeing the world. You wanted to try all these different foods and see different museums, the biggest libraries, everything. He liked that the most, that you found interest in similar things like he did. He loved reading books and you liked art and museums. You were deep and intricate about things people at the Academy were very surface level about. When you mentioned wanting to visit libraries and galleries abroad, Jason turned to you, raising his pinky up and promising a pact for the two of you. You stared at him before raising your own pinky, promising with him. Jason promised to leave Gotham with you once you were old enough, to see the world and visit every place on your bucket list. He got drunk off your laughter, especially when you smiled at him and promised that you would follow him to every part of the world.

Jason wasn’t sure when he started to feel so strongly about you, but he was sure he was starting to fall for you. You two just clicked, it was all so natural, so calming, so mundane. It brought him into wanting to live a normal life with you, maybe even the rest of his. He liked that you had a fiery personality, you weren’t scared to stand up for yourself and you were passionate about the things you wanted. It made you stand out that much more to him and he wondered if any part of him stood out to you too.

Jason remembers you sharing about your life on the streets, the way the family that was a part of Gotham’s elite adopted you, and the way you felt grateful but spiteful at the same time. He felt his heart tug at the thought of the city being so cruel to you. He wanted to be the one you found comfort in. He could see how your eyes changed when he told you how happy he was when someone like Bruce had taken him in, seeing the softness in your eyes. Jason found comfort in you, even if you were only strangers to one another, he enjoyed knowing you more. 

Jason felt the wind on his skin and brushing through his hair, the wind softly blowing yours as well. The both of you stood on the ledge of the building, looking down. Jason was known for his crazy antics within the family, his impulsivity, but in that moment he was sure he wanted to show you what flying felt like. He grabbed the grappling hook from his belt, extending his hand out to you, your eyes filled with confusion and uncertainty but took his hand anyway. 

The way you felt against him made him go crazy, almost like your body was made to fit in his perfectly. He grabbed you tightly, your arms around his neck and he shot the line and jumped off the building once it hooked. You were in the air for what felt like a lifetime, the sound of your laughter filling the air and his own following after yours. 

He kicked the window to the abandoned building in order to land safely, rolling over, Jason found himself under you, his heart beating fast inside his chest. The laughter leaving your mouth still sounds like a melody to him. 

Jason raised his hand and brushed your hair behind your ear, your smile still painted on your face in the most beautiful way. He smiled back at you, still trying to catch his breath. In that moment, he felt as though he lost control of all thought, he lost all self-control, he needed you to know how he felt. Needed to know how you tasted. 

He leaned up, placing a hand behind your head, and softly placing his lips against yours. He felt you tense slightly, but leaned into the kiss, the softness of them making him swoon. He tried to memorize the way they felt against his own, wanting them for the rest of his life. 

Jason wanted you, he was so sure. He hadn’t ever wanted anything so intently and intensely in his life before, not even being Robin compared to how he felt with you. You were like a newfound freedom, a deep rooted connection he never wanted to get rid of, a reason to keep going. 

And he would be yours in a heartbeat, all you had to do was tell him.

He wanted to be yours, he wanted you to have him.

All of him. 

That night, Jason returned to the Batcave, his heart still racing from his time with you, your touch lingering and overwhelming his senses. As he made his way in, the subdued hum from the Batcomputer and the dim lighting created a comforting backdrop, making the ambiance seem fitting to the cave. He took off his domino mask, holding it in his hands as he began to slip out of his Robin suit and started stowing it away when he heard Bruce’s voice, deep and steady, as it called out from the shadows. 

“You’re back early tonight.”

Jason’s head looked up, taking in Bruce’s form as he stepped out from behind the Batmobile, his cowl coming off his head as he revealed his face in a calm resting expression. Bruce;s eyes focused on Jason’s form, a mixture of curiosity and intrigue filling his expression. 

“Yeah, just finished up early.”, Jason replied, trying to keep his tone light as he shrugged. He moved over to the equipment area, pretending to check his stock in his belt. “Gotta keep an eye on things, you know, Robin things.”

Bruce’s gaze didn’t waver, his deduction already aware of where exactly Jason had been spending his nights alone the past few weeks. “You’ve been in a good mood lately. Anything specific happen tonight?”, Bruce questioned as he walked over to the computer. “You’ve been disappearing quite a bit on your solo patrols, even when we don’t have missions.”

Jason shrugged again, trying to stay nonchalant but couldn’t mask his subtle smile. “Nothing really, just nice to get out and do things alone. You know how it is.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by Jason’s answer. “You’ve been out a lot more than usual, and not just on patrols.”

Jason fidgeted with a piece of gear, avoiding Bruce’s piercing gaze. "It’s just… been a good week. I just like going out alone. Sometimes, it’s nice to have something to look forward to."

Bruce’s expression hardened slightly, though he kept his tone even. "Jason, you know you can talk to me about anything. If something’s going on, I need to know. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe."

Jason met Bruce’s gaze briefly before looking away, back to fidgeting with his utility belt. "I’m fine, Bruce. Really. Just… enjoying life a little, that’s all. Enjoying the freedom"

Bruce’s eyes lingered on Jason. He had noticed the changes, the occasional late-night absences that didn’t coincide with their patrols. He understood the need for personal space, especially at Jason’s age but his obvious dismissal and evasiveness was a red flag. Deep down, Bruce knew there was more than Jason was letting on, and even if he wouldn’t say it out loud, Bruce already deduced exactly why. 

"Alright," Bruce said after a moment, though his tone remained serious. "Just remember, being Robin isn’t just about the suit or the thrill. It’s about responsibility and trust. Don’t let anything—" 

Jason cut him off, a touch of defensiveness in his voice. "I know, Bruce. I’m on top of it. Just—give me a little space, okay? I’ve got this."

Bruce studied him for a moment longer before nodding, though his concern remained evident. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

Jason nodded and gave a light smile. "Thanks, Bruce."

As Bruce turned to leave, Jason’s expression softened slightly, a mix of relief and unresolved tension. Jason knew he was only trying to act like a good father figure, he knew Bruce cared about him and his safety but for now he wanted to keep you separate from his life at home. He wanted that part for himself. You were his own and he didn’t want to share that with Bruce or the rest of the family just yet. 

The early afternoon sunlight cast a warm glow over Gotham, the streets filled with all sorts of people either shopping, meeting up with friends, getting lunch, or just window shopping. Bruce and Jason walked through the upscale shopping district as the sounds of conversations floated all around them, the crowds enjoying the light breeze of the weather and soaking in the sun. Bruce suggested a brief outing to pick up a gift for one of his ‘friends’, a rare but nice moment that allowed both of them a sense of being normal people in society instead of vigilantes. 

Jason trailed slightly behind Bruce as they entered a nice jewelry store, the cases filled with intricate and beautifully designed pieces. Bruce walked around before stopping at a case, observing all of the pieces inside as Jason wandered off to the other side of the store, his attention drawing to a small display that held a collection of emerald jewelry pieces. The display had different handcrafted jewelry from delicate necklaces, dainty earrings, and intricate bracelets.

Jason paused, his eyes drawn to a dainty necklace displayed in the case, the green stone stunning as it reflected under the light. It was a classy design, simple but with a beautiful dark green emerald inside. It was the perfect mix of timeless and personable. The color and elegance drew him in, and before he knew it, he was calling over one of the clerks to help him. 

Bruce had noticed Jason talking to the clerk, his eyes observing as Jason pointed to the necklace in the case and examining it with his own eyes. Jason’s demeanor was different from his usual confident bravado; he seemed almost contemplative, as if weighing a decision of significant importance.

“Is this the necklace?”, the clerk asked as Jason nodded, looking at it with observant eyes. “Excellent choice, you have a very good eye, sir.”

Jason cleared his throat, slightly flustered but held his composure. “I’m also wondering, do you have any earrings that could possibly match this?”.

The clerk nodded, guiding Jason to the case just next to the necklaces as he pointed out a few different pairs. Bruce watched quietly as he picked out the gift he was getting, his curiosity piqued. Jason hadn’t ever bought gifts for anyone, but his choices in the jewelry shop were thoughtful and intentional. He was picking something special, with meaning, it wasn’t just a random purchase. 

After a few moments, Jason picked between four pairs of earrings, selecting the one that would go best with the necklace. The clerk nodded as he wrapped up the items neatly inside small velvet lined boxes before placing them carefully inside the store marked branded bag. Jason walked over to the register, pulling out his wallet and the card Bruce had gotten him that had his monthly allowance on it, quickly paying for the items and thanking the clerk for his help. 

Jason walked over to Bruce, who also had his own bag with jewelry inside, the both of them walking out and continuing their walk through the streets. “Something special for someone?”

Jason tensed, Bruce’s question catching him off guard as he smiled slightly with an airy laugh. “Just a small gift. Thought it might brighten someone’s day.”

“$5,000 is hardly a small gift.”, Bruce chuckled, the small tease going over Jason’s head as he saw his jaw clench and his shoulders tense. He raised an eyebrow at his son, deciding not to press further. He could tell Jason wasn’t ready to share those details, deciding it was better for him to share on his own terms. “It’s thoughtful. I’m sure whoever gets it will appreciate it.”, Bruce offered a genuine smile at Jason. 

“Yeah, I hope so”, Jason nodded, a small smile playing at his lips.

As they left the jewelry store and continued through the shopping district, Bruce couldn’t help but feel a sense of curiosity mingled with a hint of pride. Despite the tension that sometimes hung between them, moments like these reminded him that Jason was growing into his own person, a well raised young man that would eventually take the world by storm. Bruce felt a lot of pride in him, knowing he would soon be someone who valued his morals and family above all. 

The two walked side by side, each one lost in their own thoughts as a comfortable silence fell over the both of them. Jason felt a sense of anticipation, feeling content in his choice of his gift for you that made him feel warm inside, a feeling only he would cherish. Bruce felt a calm and relaxing feeling, the day a reminder of how in the midst of their complex lives, the both of them could still have mundane and normal lives outside of the night. 

~

~

~

The dining room of Wayne Manor was filled with the fresh smell of a well-prepared home cooked meal, thanks to Alfred’s gift for cooking. The food was set up nicely at the table, everything well laid for the family to share their weekly family dinner as tradition. 

Jason was wearing his normal home attire, a pair of dark jeans and an oversized hoodie as he leaned back in his chair, looking at some texts from his classmates from school for the midterm study group he had. Bruce eyed him, clearing his throat before Jason tucked his phone away. 

Bruce was stuck about his no phone at the table rule.

Bruce sat at the head of the table, quietly looking over his meal as the both of them waited for the final member to join them at the table. The atmosphere was quiet and calm, a normal and common aura that Jason had grown used to. The quiet was short lived when he heard his older brother barge through the front door and greet Alfred, making his way to the dining room and placing two hands on Jason’s shoulders. 

“Hey Jay, how’s it going”, he smirked, poking Jason’s cheek as Jason swatted him away. 

“Screw off, Dick.”, Jason pushed his older brother away, rolling his eyes as Dick walked over to greet Bruce before sitting down at the table. 

“So, how’s life as Boy Wonder, been enjoying it? God I hope you’re bringing it justice, can’t have you tarnishing the Robin name”, Dick was as overdramatic as he was charismatic and charming, but Jason looked up to his older brother even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. 

“Doing just fine. Been doing more for the Robin name than you ever could”, Jason smirked as Bruce smiled at himself. 

“Ooo, you’re playful today. What’s got you in a good mood?”, Dick leaned forward, taking a bite of his food as he raised an eyebrow at Jason. 

“Nothing.”, he said in a neutral tone. 

“Nah, what’s going on?”, Dick continued. “Oh, is it a girl? Alfred told me about how you bought a $5,000 necklace for a mystery person”

“Master Dick, please keep me out of your teasing”, Alfred said as he placed another pitcher of water on the table, replacing the empty one. 

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed that Jason’s been less grumpy the past few weeks”, Dick smirked, “There’s something going on, c’mon Jay, spill.” 

Jason narrowed his eyes, “Drop it, Dick.”

“You’re the one being all secretive. C’mon what happened to us telling each other everything? Besides, you’re starting to creep me out. You’re never this happy” 

The annoyance radiated off of Jason as he glared at his older brother. He might be the golden boy but he was an annoyance more than anything. 

Bruce finally decided to stop keeping his silence, speaking across the table at his adoptive sons. “Dick, let Jason have his privacy.”

“Ugh, fine”, Dick rolled his eyes, going back to his food but not before getting in his final words. “You owe me details later”, he said as he pointed his fork at Jason who ignored him. As Dick relaxed into his seat, Alfred chimed in regardless of how he just asked to be left out of the conversation. 

“Master Jason’s mood has improved significantly over the past few weeks.”, Alfred said casually, Jason slumping in his seat. “It’s nice to see him engaged and happy for a change.”

Bruce glanced at Jason, before looking over at Alfred, “Indeed. It’s good to see some change around here.”

The rest of the dinner was quiet, only filled with talk about Dick’s new job and how he and Barbara were supposed to go out for dinner in a week. Bruce only added in where the conversation needed it as well as Alfred. Jason ignored the conversation entirely, his mind entirely else where as he tried to focus on finishing dinner and retreating to his room. 

When dinner finished, Jason walked to the back of the house, stepping into the cool air as he looked at the pool that was in the backyard, enjoying the quiet. The sound of the sliding door opening made him turn around, then turn away in annoyance. 

“So, you gonna share what’s got you so happy?”, Dick teased. “Are you trying to keep her a secret?”, Jason looked away as Dick wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Ah, c’mon. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Back when I was Robin, I had all of the girls after me. It was a bit of a problem honestly.”

“Yeah, but you also couldn’t keep a girlfriend. You’re a dog, Dick.”, Jason muttered. 

“Ah, c’mon. Who is she? Is she cute? What is she like? Well she has to be pretty mature to tolerate someone as broody as you.”, Dick continued as he ruffled Jason’s hair, the annoyance seeping deeper into Jason’s bones. 

“Dick, leave Jason alone.”, Bruce had stepped out into the yard, having a basketball in hand as he walked over to both the boys.

“Hell yeah, 2 v. 1?”, Dick asked with a smirk, and Bruce sent one back.”C’mon Jay, you and me against the old man.”

Jason smirked at his older brother, following behind him as the three of them moved over to the basketball court and continued the evening with a friendly basketball game. The sense of normalcy falling over the family as thoughts of Jason’s improved mood began to slip away into the night, the only focus on the game the three of them played.

~

~

~

One Week Later

The dining room of the manor was quiet, the occasional clink of silverware ringing out through the silence. Bruce sat across from Jason at the table, enjoying the meal Alfred had prepared for the night. Despite having a nice dinner and the ambiance being calm, Jason felt distant, distracted, and his thoughts all over the place. 

Bruce watched him from across the table, noticing Jason’s distracted behavior. “Something on your mind, Jason?”

Jason’s eyes snapped towards Bruce, looking back down at his place with furrowed brows. “Nothing. Just… a lot on my mind recently.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”, Bruce hummed. 

“It’s just… it’s nothing.”

“You know you can talk to me right? You don’t have to keep everything bottled up.”, Bruce said openly, hoping Jason would take his offer to help. 

Jason only sighed, his mind still all over the place and couldn’t think straight. “It’s complicated. I’d rather just not get into it.”, he shifted in his seat. 

“Is it about that girl you’ve been sneaking out to see in the middle of the night?”, Bruce spoke calmly as he raised his fork to his mouth and took a bite of his food. Jason straightened, looking at Bruce from across the table. 

“How did you..”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, his gaze steady. “I’m a detective, Jason. Don’t act like I wouldn’t have figured it out eventually.”

Jason’s face flushed slightly, a mix of embarrassment and frustration crossing his features. “Are you going to make me stop seeing her?”

Bruce’s expression changed slightly, though his voice remained firm. “No. As long as it doesn’t affect your performance in the field, I’m not going to interfere. But you know what happens if she gets too involved.”

Jason’s eyes met Bruce’s, “I know. I’ve been careful.”

“You need to keep a balance. If your personal life starts compromising your work, it will become a problem. But I trust you to manage that.”

Jason’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, though his mind was clearly still preoccupied. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The dinner continued in silence, Jason’s thoughts still spinning as they led back to you. He was struggling with the choice of telling you about who he was. Would Bruce even let him or would he shut down the idea immediately? That would be something to get into another time but for the time being Jason just wanted nothing more but to ensure that he was careful. 

He’d never forgive himself if you somehow got tangled up in his work in the field. He’d make sure that never happened. 

Even if his life depended on it. 

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆

Your laugh filled the air as Jason continued to tell you about his latest mission with Bruce and how he managed to knock out a bunch of Penguin’s goons when Bruce had cornered them after trying to rob a bank. He watched as the brightness in your eyes met his gaze, making him feel like he was on top of the world. 

“It was great”, he smiled brightly, his cheeks hurting from laughing for the past 15 minutes. “So, what about you? Anything exciting?”

You rolled your eyes as you played with the small ninja star he had let you hold. He’d always showed you the least dangerous weapons in his utility belt, aka those that couldn’t explode while you messed with it. 

“Not really.”, you smiled. “Oh, well maybe this might be interesting.”

He leaned back on his hands, letting his hair fall over his forehead instead of pushing it back. “Okay, shoot.”

“There’s this guy at school who keeps trying to talk to me and I don’t know what his deal is but it’s kinda annoying.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, trying to hold back a smirk. “Annoying how?”

“He’s always trying to get my attention, like he’s constantly hovering around me. He’s nice enough, but it feels like he’s just trying too hard. I don’t get it.”

Jason’s lips curled into a knowing grin as he tried to suppress a chuckle. “Sounds like he’s a bit overzealous.”

You glanced at him, sensing his amusement but not understanding the reason behind it. “Yeah, tell me about it. It’s like he doesn’t get the hint.”

Jason just laughed, letting himself enjoy the naivety you had. “Sometimes people do weird things. Maybe he just wants to be your friend.”

“I don’t need friends.”

“So what does that make me then?”, he moved his head towards you. 

“A pain in my ass”, you smiled at him and Jason moved his hands towards his chest in a stabbing motion as shoved him gently while he laughed. 

“You seem to think its funny when it’s not”

“Just give the guy a chance, maybe he’ll be more than you expect.”, he shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I think I’ll pass. Besides I don’t need anyone else, I have you.”, you said as you hugged your knees to your chest and laid your head on them, watching him as your hair fell over your arm but framed your face perfectly.

The night continued in ease, the both of you catching up after a week of not seeing each other, the smile on Jason’s face never leaving. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on his: he knew he was the reason for your annoyance but he enjoyed seeing this feisty side of you. When he first saw you in school you were standoffish, closed off, maybe from moving to such an elite school full of people from a different life than you. He knew that feeling of assuming everyone saw him as a nobody, the only thing saving him was the Wayne name. 

He wished it could be as easy for you as it was for him. 

Maybe then it’d be easier to tell you about everything. 

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆

Today was one of the few times Jason and you were able to go out in daylight to enjoy yourselves together. It wasn’t often that he would meet with you in civilian clothing, but for some reason he wanted both of you to go out to the park. It was starting to get warmer and he figured a springtime walk wouldn’t hurt. He pushed his sunglasses up, watching as you stopped to look at everything in the ground. 

The flowers were starting to bloom and the trees started to grow buds that were slowly opening. It was a pretty sight indeed, not to mention the little family of ducks swimming in the lake right at the heart and center of the park. 

“It’s all so pretty don’t you think?”, you turned towards him as he stood there with his hands in his pockets smiling at you. He soaked in the sight of you looking at the flowers and kneeling to watch the small ducklings. 

It wasn’t often the two of you would go out like this together but moments like this were the exact reason he preferred going out than just being confined to the four corners of the roof. “Yeah it is. It’s a nice change for once.”

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with joy. “I didn’t realize you liked nature so much. I would’ve guessed you preferred staying perched on that roof.”

He chuckled, something he knew you admired about him. “I do like it, but some days it’s nice to just be in nature and not think about anything else. Disconnect from the city to connect with nature. That kind of thing.”

You stood up, brushing off your pants and walking towards him. “I mean we’re technically still in the city.”, you teased. 

“You get what I mean.”, he laughed as the both of you continued down the nature trail around the lake. He fell into step with you, both of you moving together with ease as you soaked in the rest of the sun and the gentle warmth it brought onto you. 

After a while, you both reached a nearby bench under a massive oak tree, its branches providing a small amount of shade as the both of you sat under it. You had stopped talking and looked down at the grass, Jason staring at you in concern. 

“Hey, you okay?”, he asked softly. 

“Yeah, it’s just… I’ve been thinking a lot.”, you murmured. 

“Thinking about what?”, his brows furrowed as he waited for your response, worried he might’ve done something wrong to make you upset. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel upset. 

“Just, you know a lot about me. You know what I look like, my birthday, the school I go to, the family and it feels like I don’t know anything like that about you.”, you looked up at him with vulnerable eyes. “I feel like it’s a bit unfair”, you let out an airy laugh.

“Y/n, you know I would tell you if I could.”, he answered. “It’s just… it’s complicated because..”, he trailed off as a couple walked by, waiting for them to be out of distance before continuing. “Because of my job.”

“I know, I know and I’m not expecting anything crazy it’s just..”, you trailed off again. “I mean… I wish I could know you.”, you whispered, your hands in your lap as you messed with the end of your sweater. “I wish I could know the real you.”

His heart skipped a beat in his chest, staring at you as he let your words sink in. The very thing he had been contemplating over the past few weeks were the very thing you just said you wanted. Was this the opening he needed to show himself to you?

He smiled weakly, looking at you with a warm gaze even though you couldn’t see it. “I know”, he murmured. It was all he could say. 

He leaned in, your eyes watching him with observant eyes as he grabbed your hand from your lap and stroking it gently. You soaked in his warmth and he could sense the desperation in your soul. The desire to know him, the desire to see his face, to know who he really was. He wanted that too. More than anything. 

He leaned closer towards you, reaching up to push your hair behind your ear as he caressed your cheek and leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle yet emotionally charged kiss. You leaned into his, your hand squeezing his as he deepened the kiss. Your body soaked him in, wanting to feel his presence and him yours. 

After what felt like an eternity, Jason pulled away, touching his forehead with yours as he looked into your eyes. He felt it right then. The answer he’d been looking for the past few weeks. He knew what he wanted. 

He wanted you. 

Wanted to tell you who he was, wanted you to be a part of his life for however long you’d let him be there. He wanted to tell you his real name, wanted to introduce you to Bruce and Dick, wanted to show you how he trained for his missions and tell you how he was the guy from school.

He needed this. 

He needed you. 

The tension in the Batcave was palpable, the argument between Jason and Bruce growing more intense as Jason continued to push for his ask. The both of them stood facing each other, the dim lighting casting shadows over their faces as they stood face to face, both in their respective suits. The argument had been going for what felt like forever, both of them holding firm in their stance. 

“Jason. No.”, Bruce said, his voice filled with a deep seriousness and an overwhelming sense of authority, but it didn’t stop Jason like it normally would have. “You can’t tell her. It’s too dangerous.”

“Bruce, I trust her.”, Jason’s frustration was evident as he continued to push for this. “I don’t want to keep hiding who I am from her, what kind of relationship is that? What kind of person would that make me to keep seeing her and just lie to her about who I am?”

“It puts everyone at risk!”, Bruce stood tall, and even though Jason was a good foot shorter, he pushed his shoulders up, his posture matching Bruce’s as he held his gaze. 

“I won’t keep lying to her.”

Bruce’s face hardened, the weight of his responsibility as both a father and a protector clear in his eyes. “If you tell her who you are, she has to know about Dick and me. That’s putting her at risk—and us. You have to understand the implications.”

“How is this any different than you and Selina? How long did it take before Selina found out who you were?”, Jason used his trump card, his desperation seeping through. 

“That’s different, Jason.”

“How?! You two are basically always flirting and going out and you both know each other’s identities.” Jason felt himself growing frustrated with Bruce. “She knows who you are, you’re always going out with her and you both have been open about your double lives. Why can’t I have the same thing?”

Bruce sighed, seeing the resolve in Jason’s eyes. He knew well how rare it was for Jason to trust someone, it had taken him almost two years to trust Bruce, so him asking to share who he was with his mystery girl wasn’t something to take lightly. The depth of feeling Jason held towards you was clear and Bruce could see it from miles away. If it wasn’t for that fact, Bruce would have strictly shut down Jason’s request. 

“Bruce, please. I’m asking you to trust me on this. She’s the only person I want to share this with. I know she won’t say anything. Please, I can’t keep lying to her,” Jason’s voice wavered slightly, his emotions laid bare.

Bruce looked at him for a long moment, weighing the risks but even in his contemplation he could see Jason’s trust in you. After a moment of tense silence, Bruce spoke in the same firmness but with a hint of resignation. 

“Do you trust her?”

“Yes, I do.”, Jason spit the words out faster than he would’ve liked but he didn’t care. He wanted this more than anything. 

“Alright,” Bruce said, finally giving in. “You can tell her, but under one condition. If anything happens—if she’s put in danger or if you let this affect your duties—you’ll be benched from patrol and training for an entire year. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Fine, yes, deal. Thank you so much.”

Without thinking, and for the first time since he’d been taken in, Jason moved towards Bruce and hugged him. It was simple yet surprising for Bruce. With slowed hands, Bruce returned the hug briefly before Jason pulled back, a slight smile tugging on his lips as he grabbed his robin mask from where it was set on the Batcomputer. 

Jason quietly nodded towards Bruce, turning towards the exit of the cave and heading towards the elevator that led up to the manor. Jason couldn’t help but feel on top of the world, his heart pumping in his chest on how he would tell you. He wanted to do it within the next week, wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible. 

He wanted you to know him as him. 

Just him. Just as Jason. 

That would be more than enough. 

~

~

~

A little less than a week went by, Jason’s entire world came crashing in. He received a note from a woman claiming to be his mother. Bruce had been there to analyze the note and check its validity, proving itself to be an authorized note. Jason felt himself desperate for answers, why his mother abandoned him, why he was forced to live on the streets for so long. 

“Bruce, I have to go”

“No. It could be a trap.”

“Bruce, if she’s claiming to be my mother, I want to know.” Jason pleaded. He needed answers, he needed that closure from the trauma the streets had caused him. 

Bruce stayed firm in his resolve. “Jason, you aren’t thinking clearly. This could be a trap, there is no reason to believe this could be your actual mother.”

Jason’s eyes grew darker, his face illuminated by the harsh light of the Batcomputer, showcasing the mix of anger and desperation. “Do you know what it’s like, Bruce?”, his voice wavered slightly. ���To live with that void of never knowing why your mother left you? Not knowing why you were abandoned? I know you lost your parents because of someone else’s selfishness but wouldn’t you do anything to see them again and not be left alone in this city? Please… Please let me meet her. I need this.”

Bruce’s gaze hardened, his thoughts contemplating. He knew the feeling of the void all too well, it was something he wished could’ve been different for his younger self, and even though Jason had a point in wanting to connect with his mother as the abandoned son, Bruce couldn’t let him go. His protective instinct and intuition couldn’t let him. “If you go without proper planning you could end up in danger. This isn’t just about reconnecting, it’s your safety on the line too. You need to be smart about this.”

Jason’s anger flared. “So what? I should just sit here and do nothing while you make the decision for me? I’m tired of being left in the dark! I need to do this.”

After another long moment of back and forth, Bruce made his final decision, turning to head back to the manor as he left an emotionally overwhelmed and defeated Jason alone in the cave. The glow of the computer screens illuminated his face as he clenched his fists. The cave, usually Jason’s comfort place, felt like a prison. Bruce’s words echoing through the space as he stood still in place. 

His mind raced with the details of the note, replaying every word and the hope it had sparked. The unresolved trauma of his past felt like a heavy weight pressing down on him, and he could almost hear the echoes of his younger self, yearning for answers that had been so cruelly withheld. 

He let out a sigh of defeat, letting his shoulders slump as he went to get out of his uniform, taking off his utility belt as he let himself contemplate his options of where to go from here. He wanted to go but the more logical side of him knew Bruce had a point, yet something inside of him made him think if he could go at it alone. Would it help keep his sanity if he could just meet his estranged mother? 

The thought contemplated in his mind as he continued to undress and change into his night attire. His mind still all over the place but a subtle hint of rebellion lingering inside of him. 

If Bruce wouldn’t let him, he knew he would have to do this on his own. At Least for the sake of his sanity. 

Jason felt his heart pumping in his chest at a record speed, he felt on top of the world at the news he’d tell you. He arrived at the roof of the usual spot the two of you would always meet, calming himself down before walking over to where he could see you looking down at the street.

“(Y/n), I have to tell you something.”, he called out, wrapping his arms around you. He noticed how you had to crane your head up to look at him, the height difference made his heart flutter. He noticed the necklace around your neck, the necklace he got for your 15th birthday that brought out how beautiful your eyes were. He didn’t just choose the emerald stone for you, he picked it out to match his own hues. To secretly know he was with you always. 

“W-what is it?”, he heard the slight worry in your voice, but he smiled at you to help ease your nerves. His heart pounding in his chest, taking your hands before he spoke. 

“I know that we.. we’ve been..seeing each other, and I know you feel the same things that I do.”, the rush of adrenaline causing his heart to beat faster, you’d be the first to know outside the family who he really was. 

The real Jason. 

You’d get to meet him, his family, see into his life as Jason and not as Robin. 

“I want to tell you who I am, beneath the mask, beneath the Robin suit. I want to take it further. I just need to do something else first.” , he felt relief wash over him as the words left his mouth, a burden he hadn’t realized he was carrying was now lifted. He saw you stiffen, your eyes filled with concern and uncertainty. 

“I’ll be gone for a few days, so don’t think I’m abandoning you, okay? But I promise, when I come back, we’ll get a real date. You’ll know me as… me. I promise, okay? Wait for me, okay?”, the words left his lips all too fast, praying that you would wait for him, praying that you would have him and let him have you too. He saw you nod your head and hug him, his arms wrapping tightly around you, the words so close from leaving his lips at that moment. 

He grabbed your face and kissed you and you kissed back. The kiss was tender yet filled with every emotion he had bottled up. Your lips moved against his, feeling the surge of euphoria flow through his body. His heart exploded and he was like the happiest guy alive right then. He would come back, he would tell you his name, he would be yours and everything would be perfect.

He swore on his life he would come back and find you. 

He would tell you the words that were desperate to leave his lips.

He tasted the promise of a future together, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you.

You were the only thing he wanted. 

The stinging coursed through his body, the pain all-consuming. Jason felt every hit, every cracking sound of his bones, all the pain seemed to flood his body almost like every blow was carving itself into his very essence. It left him raw and exposed. He couldn’t find a way out, even with his blurred vision, he couldn’t even see where he was. His bones ached, his ribs burning him from the inside out because of the pain. 

“Which hurts more? A or B? Backhand or forehand?”, the maniacal clown asked out loud, the crowbar making contact with his already broken bones. Jason could feel each of his bones screaming in pain. He silently prayed that Bruce would be here. Silently prayed that he would come save him. 

How had he ended up here? Why hadn’t he heeded Bruce’s warnings? The questions tormented him, swirling in his mind like a storm. Did Bruce even know he was missing? Was there any chance of rescue?

The laughter echoed through the empty warehouse, the nightmarish sound echoed within the walls leaving Jason feeling haunted by the maniac that was beating him. The only thing that could be heard for miles was the Joker’s hysterical laughs. Laughs that seemed to burn themselves into Jason’s memory. Jason tried to muster the strength to speak, his voice coming out as a ragged, barely audible whisper. Joker yanked Jason’s head up by his hair, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Ah, ah? Speak a little louder lamb chop, I think you might have a collapsed lung”, Jason spit the blood from his mouth into the Joker’s face. Joker’s response was swift and brutal—he slammed Jason down onto the concrete with a sickening thud.

The pain was eating him alive, how could he be so naive? Why didn’t he just listen to Bruce? Where was he? Did Bruce know he was missing? 

When the hits stopped, he heard the door close, the heavy silence fell over the warehouse signaling Joker’s departure. The stiffness settled into his body and he lifted himself from the ground, trying to walk before he collapsed again. His thoughts were focused on getting out, the intensity of the situation starting to settle in. 

His thoughts became a frantic whirl of fear and desperation. He dragged himself toward the door, his hands shaking as he fumbled with the handle. It was stuck, locked from the outside. Panic surged through him, making the pain in his ribs feel even more excruciating. The sense of hopelessness grew with every second that passed.

At that moment, he could only think of you. The nights you had spent together, the countless hours on the roof, the laughter, the warmth of your smile, spending your birthday together—every moment flashed back to him with vivid clarity it was almost unbearable. It all crashed back to him. He never thought that night three days ago would be the last time he’d hold you, the last time he’d feel your lips on his. Your presence forever burned into his memory, a bittersweet reminder of what he was losing.

A ticking noise grew louder, an insistent and chilling sound that filled the warehouse with an air of impending doom. Jason forced himself to look at the countdown timer mounted on the crates along the wall—ten seconds left before the explosives would obliterate the entire structure.

10…

The reality of his situation settled in, a cold, hard fact that there was no escaping the end that was so close.

9…

He knew that it was done.  

The weight of unfulfilled dreams and missed opportunities pressed heavily on him. The simple joys of life with you—late nights, shared moments, future plans—were slipping away, forever lost.

8…

He felt his world crashing in, the reality of never having been able to take you on a real date. 

The awareness of never truly discovering who he was, of never having the chance to share his world with you, was a bitter pill to swallow. The chance to explore new horizons was vanishing.

7…

The reality of never knowing who he was. Never getting to meet his family, never welcoming you into his world, never experiencing new places together or even getting to see each other again. 

The thought of never hearing his real name spoken with affection by you again was a sharp, painful reminder of what he was losing. The intimacy and connection he longed for were slipping through his fingers.

6…

The sorrow of never being able to call you his, of never again feeling the comfort and warmth of your presence, was a deep, hollow ache.

5…

Never getting to feel you near him again. 

4…

Never getting the chance to tell you how much he loved you. 

3…

He closed his eyes and rested his head back, accepting the inevitable. He silently sent a prayer to whatever being out there that existed that you knew how much he loved you, even when he never said it out loud. That you would be okay without him, that you wouldn’t lose hope. 

The weight of his regrets and the finality of his fate pressed down on him, making the seconds feel like an eternity.

He braced himself, his mind filled with memories of you, a final testament to the love and life he wished he could have shared with you.

The explosion was instantaneous. The warehouse was consumed in a blinding flash, a forceful wave that ripped through the structure with deafening intensity. The world shattered into chaos, the ticking stopped, and everything that had been a part of his final moments was obliterated.

In the midst of the destruction, there was a final, eerie silence—a silence that spoke of the end of pain and the conclusion of the torment. It was a silence where his love for you lingered, a final, unspoken testament to what had been and what might have been.

A/N:

I had been wanting to do an entire chapter from Jason's POV for a minute and had the flashback chapter in my mind for a while. I really hope you guys enjoyed this! Also just letting you know that new upload days will be Sundays! This just works easier for my schedule since I draft everything throughout the week and spend weekends editing so Sundays work best for me!

Again, thank you guys for all the love and support on this series, I think we only have 5 or 6 chapters left before the end?! It went by SO fast!

And also thank you for the love and support on my Sukuna x Reader story: Love of My Life! It's been doing so well and it makes me so happy that it's been received well.

Thank you guys again and see you next week! xx.

[junipers-archive]

Flower Girls

Word Count: 650

Includes: flufffff, Spencer and you renew your vows, and your daughters Daisy and Violet are the flower girls!! (@radiant-reid i wrote it!)

"Mama do I get to hold the flowers?!" It was Daisy your six year old daughter chasing around your equally excited younger daughter Violet who'd just turned four.

"Yes honey and Violet's going to help you!"

It was almost time to get them changed into their dresses, and you were happy to find they were just as excited to relive the wonderful time that was wedding day as you were.

You and Spencer had decided to renew your vows for your ten year anniversary, especially since Daisy had made it clear how unfair she thought it was she wasn't alive to see the first one.

As you check your phone you find its already 10am and you had spent too long watching the girls run around the yard.

"Daisy, Violet! Come on, we gotta go get you two dressed!"

They both chase after you like you had promised ice cream, squealing.

"I get the pink one right mommy?" Violet's still developing her idiolect and pronounciation and you smile at how her voice swoops and cuts oddly as you enter your bedroom.

"Wait a minute I thought I got the pink one mama! what am I supposed to wear now?"

Daisy has discovered attitude which you blame completely on Spencer as he was the one to cause a scene when you took the last cookie from the tin a few weeks ago.

"Baby, you both got matching pink dresses remember?" You try to console her as she puckers her lips and scrunches her cute little eyebrows, looking remarkably like her father.

It isn't until you take out the dress in front of them that she begins to giggle.

In an hour you've dressed them both and have done their hair into little buns at the top of their heads per their request.

You're done as well, all that was left to do was meet at the beach, you and Spencer had considered a more formal option but seeing as it would've cost a fortune and time you don't have to plan it all you'd gone with the simpler choice.

You'd be meeting at the beach he proposed to you on and renewing your vows over a flower arch with only your closest friends and family, then you'd all eat dinner (you'd reserved a part of the resturaunt) at the place you and Spencer had gone to after he proposed.

It was simple, and it was perfect.

You were getting in the car with your girls when Daisy gasped.

"Mama" just like her father that one, "Where are the flowers!?"

You tried hard not to laugh at her expression as you backed out of the drive way, but it really was hard not to.

"Don't worry petal we're going to give you and Violet the flowers when we get there."

And you did, or at least Spencer did.

Once you got to the beach you all saw him standing and greeting the guests. Once Daisy and Violet did too they ran to him hugging his legs before he could catch them and toppling him over successfully.

And when they finally walk down that isle as the sun begins to paint the sky a beautiful gradient of pinks, oranges and blues he thinks about how lucky he is to have not only you the love of his life but also the two beautiful smart and talented daughters you both created.

Daisy and Violet hold two wicker baskets, throwing Daisy and Violet petals which you'd agreed had to be done.

You keep your eyes on them as they grin from their seats next to their auntie Penelope.

And when you both recite the loving vows you said exactly 10 years ago you also find that both you and Spence edit it slightly to include the wonderful human beings you brought into the world.

To which they of course squeal and cheer at until the ceremony is over.

[saturdaysky]

First Lines

I was tagged by @mithrilwren to post the first lines of my last ten fics! What a fun trip down memory lane this was.

1) fray (Ludinus/Essek; feelbad manipulation + an intentional gap between wants and needs)

"Such a fanciful tradition," he chides, watching the light play on Thelyss' bright braids. The candlelight of his bedchambers paints them fetchingly gold. Thelyss sits with a prim tiredness on the bed, holding still while Ludinus slips the buttons of his high collar back into place. They have begun to take all of their meetings here, in recent months.

2) discretion, written with @mllekurtz (Caleb/Essek; power dynamics and clothing)

“You wore this to the court today.” The words do not feel quite real coming out of his mouth.

3) growing sunlight (Caleb/Essek; a post-canon homecoming)

Caleb shuts the door against the afternoon sun, sealing them into comfortable privacy. The curtains on his windows are likewise shut, but light seeps through them anyway, casting the room in a warm, muted glow. Dimmed daylight will gather here for hours; like a little bubble of sunset just for us, supplies his mind. He is too glad to resist whimsy. Essek's visits always make him so.

4) if only for a moment (Caleb/Essek; time travel, grief, love, a leave-taking)

It was supposed to be five minutes into the future, but Caleb is pretty sure he fucked that one up. The lurch in his stomach tells him so, as does the treacle-like quality of his perception, and the way the spell writhes in his mind.

5) the end; to hold the sun (Caleb/Essek; a Calamity AU set minutes before the city falls from the sky)

It is done. It is done.

6) brothers (Beau & Essek talk about their estranged brothers; canon-with-a-twist AU)

Essek's shoulders are tense in a way that's gonna ache later, his frame drawn tight against the endless blue sky above the bay. He leans on the salt-crusted railing and stares out at the armada gathered for the peace talks. "I am still a Thelyss," he whispers in Undercommon. "They cannot take that from us." To Beau's ears, it sounds like a prayer.

7) sanctuary, a claiming (Caleb/Essek; werewolf/witch dark fairytale AU)

The night is red. Above the Wildwood, Catha’s gentle silver eye has waned into sleep at the end of its long cycle, leaving only the ruddy gaze of its sister to light the forest. Tomorrow, Catha will wax anew into wakefulness, but tonight, when magic is strong and bloody in the air, Ruidus’ dark creatures come out to play.

8) a shape made by our hands (Caleb/Essek; in a decaying timeline, Caleb meets Essek as a child.)

The spell is almost up. He’s gotten what he came to this timeline for, and when he returns to his own, this reality will decay into nothingness like an echo. The clock ticks unrelentingly in Caleb’s head; he estimates he has at least an hour. Maybe two, maybe less; time magic is an inexact science, as it turns out.

9) fulcrum (Caleb & Trent review proper torture techniques)

He is deep in the bowels of the sanatorium and has been for three days. Caleb is doing his best not to let that fact peel him out of his head.

10) poisoning the well (Caleb character study, ft. Trent's incessant, inescapable praises)

There is the splish-splash-splash as the Nein travel through the drenched Aeorian tunnel, and then Ikithon’s voice slithers into his head, parting the layers of Caleb's privacy with ease and blotting out all other sound.

I tag @mllekurtz @ariadne-mouse @chronurgy @burningdarkfire @annundriel and anyone else who wants to do it! Tag me in, I'd love to see your first lines.

[deanwritings]

FwB: Chapter 1 - The Proposition

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: FwB - Friends with Benefits.

After walking in on Y/N following a fun encounter, Dean and Y/N decide it would be beneficial and much easier to use each other for their needs. But can they keep it just about sex?

FwB - Master List

Word Count: 3,283

Warning: Smut (in case the title was not obvious) and 18+ themes and language.

Gif:

A/N: Just one of those fun little storylines that popped into my head. Enjoy ;)

Putting the Read More's early since it's 18+ content

"Mhmmm," you hum, curling into yourself as you rest on the cool sheets of the motel bed. The man of the hour was re-buttoning his shirt and pulling his pants back on as you relaxed into the mattress. 

"How do you take your coffee?" His voice is light as his eyes roam your still naked body. You take a deep breath, the spot in between your thighs still throbbing from your truly breath-taking encounter.

"Light, with milk please," your voice is soft, still not having fully recovered from its overuse last night and this morning. Twice.

He nods his head, giving you one last, lingering look, a smile wide on his face, before he steps out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

You roll onto your side, your knees slightly tucked and your chin resting in your hand, staring at the pastel wallpaper thinking about how you ended up here.

You weren't really the type of person who had one sight stands. You typically liked to share this experience with someone you knew and trusted, but after months of hunting, and no relationships in sight, your vibrator was starting to get old and you were really missing the real thing.

So, you decided to sneak out after Dean and Sam's lights had shut off in their room, and headed to the local bar where you met Jordan; a nice-looking man, probably within a five-year age range of yourself, who caught your attention as soon as you walked in. It took you a few drinks to work up your courage, but you invited him back to your room, and as you laid here thinking about it, you were so happy you had.

You hear the door click open behind you and you slightly turn your head to the noise.

"Well that was --"

"Hey Y/--"

"Dean!" You screech, the hunter appearing in the doorway with his mouth hanging open and not a single sound coming out as his hand falls off the doorknob, his eyes roaming over your naked figure. 

"Stop looking" You scream at him again, one hand going to cover your breasts as the other desperately reaching for the kicked up comforter.

"I--" Dean's voice gets stuck in his throat and nothing else comes out.

You finally manage to grab the blanket and pull it around you, effectively covering yourself as you stand from the bed.

"What the fuck, Dean? Did you get hit in the head and forget how to knock?" You screech, your hands tightening around the scratchy comforter protecting your modesty.

"Wha--no,” He stutters before closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I know how to knock.” He finds his voice and his eyes pop open again. “I wasn't expecting you to be laid out naked on the bed!" Dean's voice is an octave higher than usual as he throws his hands towards the bed you had been lounging on.

You just glare at him and he rolls his eyes as his  hands slap against his legs. 

"I was coming to get you as check out was ten minutes ago and Sam and I have been waiting for you." His deep voice returns, a hint of annoyance to it now.

Your head whips to the digital clock by the bedside, the large, red letters reading 10:14.

Shit. You got so caught up in this morning's activities you completely forgot you were supposed to meet the boys at the car by 10am.

"Why are you naked anyways?" Dean's voice brings your gaze back to him, his brow furrowed and lips frowning at you as he looks you over, not in a checking you out sort of way, but trying to answer his own question. 

Before you can answer, the answer appears in the doorway behind Dean, two paper coffee cups in his hand.

Dean turns towards the sound, and Jordan's blue eyes look over Dean, before looking to you.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asks cautiously, and you can practically see his thoughts.

"Who are you?" Dean questions as he straightens out, and Jordan takes a step back.

"Look dude, I had no idea she had a boyfriend," he raises his hands up, still holding the coffee cups.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"I'm not her boyfriend," You and Dean say in perfect unison.

Another set of footsteps echoes off the concrete landing of the second floor, and suddenly, a larger man appears behind Jordan.

"Everything okay here?" Sam peeks into the room, a mix of confusion and laughter in his brown eyes as he takes in the scene of you wrapped in a faded pink comforter, Dean standing a few steps into the room, looking between you and Jordan, and a nervous-looking Jordon who just wanted to bring you some coffee before you said goodbye.

"For fuck's sake can you two give me five minutes of privacy!" You order the Winchesters.

Sam's eyes go wide as he coughs back a laugh but just nods his head, disappearing from your view.

Dean just looks between you and Jordan, his gaze lingering on Jordon for just a moment longer, before he silently leaves your room, Jordan stepping out of his path.

Once the sound of footsteps disappears, Jordan finally steps inside the room and closes the door behind him.

"Friends of yours?" Jordan asks with a light smile as he reaches out to hand you your coffee, his body visibly relaxed now that Dean is gone.

"More like co-workers," you nod a thanks as you take the cup from him and take a sip.

You had mentioned to Jordan that you were a private detective when he asked about your occupation last night. It wasn't a total lie; a lot of your work was similar to that of a PI, but you were typically investigating monsters instead of cheating partners and missing teenagers.

"Ah," Jordan tsks and takes a sip of his own coffee as a silence falls over you.

Now came the awkward part. This being, really, your second-ever, one-night-stand, you weren't really sure what to do next. Last time you had one, you had snuck away while the guy was still sleeping, so there was no need to say "goodbye."

"Guess I better get going." You break the quietness of the room, and Jordan nods.

"Thank you for last night," you smile. "And this morning." This gets a chuckle out of both of you and Jordan's gaze falls down to his feet.

For a brief moment, you wonder what it would be like to date him; a normal man with a normal job, in a quiet, little town that now had one less ghost problem. He was funny and seemed very genuine. He wasn't the type of guy you pictured would take a woman home for just one night of fun, but you thought the same about yourself. In another life, where two infamous hunter brothers weren't waiting for you, you picture yourself dating Jordan, and your smile falls at the thought.

"Well if you ever happen to be in the area," his blue eyes find yours again. "I hope you'll look me up." He smirks and your smile finds its way back.

"I definitely will."

A few minutes later, you're fully dressed and your packed duffle is slung over your shoulder as you approach Dean leaning against Baby's hood, and Sam sitting in the passenger seat with his laptop open.

"So that was you last night?" Dean hums with a shit-eating smirk. You stop in your tracks and ball your fist before landing it against his shoulder, barely phasing the large man. "Sounded like fun."

"Shut it," you mumble, continuing your path to the trunk and throwing your bag inside, Dean's laughter following you before you hear the driver door shut.

"Sounded like fun," you mock, slamming the trunk shut with a little extra force before climbing into the back of the Impala.

Nine hours later, the trio finally returned home to the bunker.

As soon as she stepped out of the car, Y/N hightailed it to her room, Dean's gaze following her movements, his eyes glued to her ass.

He couldn't stop thinking about how he found her this morning; lounging naked on the bed, her tits sitting perky on her chest and her smooth thighs positioned just well enough over each other that he couldn't see what was between them.

Mix that in with the noises he had heard last night and twice this morning, he'd be lying if he said he didn't have a wet dream after he fell asleep listening to the satisfied moans from the woman next door. He had just assumed it was the room on the other side of theirs. He never imagined they would be coming from Y/N's room.

To say the trip home was uncomfortable was an understatement. He tried to keep himself distracted by listening to Sam ramble about some potential cases, but he was pretty much fighting off a semi most of the drive. He would be able to calm himself with memories from his childhood, or some of their more nasty cases, like the bugs from years ago, but a glance into his rearview mirror would undo it all with one look at you.

Maybe he should have gone out to get laid last night, too. Hell, he would have been happy to scratch that itch for you had he known.

It wasn't like he was oblivious to your looks. Yes, you were his friend, and a badass hunter, but you were also a beautiful woman with eye-catching curves and gorgeous Y/E/C eyes.

He had definitely thought about it before, he'd be a fool not to, but he never let his mind wander too far before he made things weird in his own mind.

But hey, if you were game, maybe you could help each other out.

It had been a long time since he had gotten any; he had been too tired to even try after their last few hunts, and he had been avoiding his usual spot in Lebanon after his last hook up, Annie or Dani, or whatever her name was, had become a stage five clinger after their night together.

But what had surprised Dean most about this morning, well maybe not most, was that you had gone out for a hookup. In the year or so you had been living with the boys, Dean had never seen you go home with anyone or take anyone home. He had of course thought it was odd, a girl as beautiful as you keeping to yourself whenever you went out, but it wasn't any of his business and he kept his focus on his own needs instead.

But maybe you were hooking up, and just keeping it under wraps. If Dean hadn't walked in on you today, he would have never known about your night out.

Either way, after this morning's show, Dean wouldn't be able to control his thoughts about you anymore. It had been better than anything he tried not to imagine.

So he wanders down the hall until he's at your door and rasps his knuckles against the wood.

"What!" Your muffled voice responds. There's still a hint of annoyance from earlier and it makes Dean smile.

"Got a sec?" Dean raises his voice just a bit so you can hear him through the divider.

A beat passes before the doorknob shifts and you appear in the doorway.

"Congratulations on remembering how to knock," Y/N sneers as her arm rests upwards against the door. Dean starts to smile at the attitude, but quickly licks it away as Y/N stares him down.

"Can I come in?" Dean glances over your head into your room. Y/N purses her lips and squints her eyes, trying to figure out what he wants before she makes her decision.

"Fine," she huffs and steps aside, allowing him into the room.

Dean steps inside and glances around the room, set up identically to all the other bunker rooms, though decorated with pictures of Y/N's friends and the few members of family she has left. Her opened duffle was on the bed and clothes partially hung out it, Dean clearly having interrupted her unpacking.

“What do you want, Dean?” Y/N sighs as she closes the door behind him. “I swear to god if it has to do with this morning, I’m going to kick your ass.” She narrows her eyes and she turns to fully face him. 

Dean looks down and licks his lips. This was probably a bad idea, but he wasn’t really thinking. Not with his upstairs brain at least. 

"So, don't shoot me,” Dean lifts his hands up in defense before he even gets the words out, and her eyes crinkle as she squints at him, anticipating his words. “But, uh, it is about this morning." Dean smiles tightly, already anticipating her reaction as she huffs and her arms fall to her side.

"Get out!” She shouts as she points to the door. 

“Y/N –”

“No! Let’s not act like this morning wasn’t the most embarrassing moment of my life, but you feel the need to keep rubbing it in my face.” She steps towards him, now pointing to herself as she draws closer.

“And I don’t see what the big deal is, anyways?” Her arms now fly out to her side. “It’s not like you and Sam don’t do the same thing. So why does it have to be a thing when I do?” She spits, her chest heaving with her words, and Dean’s eyes linger a little too long, thinking about what’s underneath her shirt. 

“Dean!” She snaps his attention back to her raging Y/E/C eyes. 

“It doesn’t!” His tone suddenly matches her, not because he’s mad, but because he got caught ogling her and forgot why she was yelling in the first place. So his natural instinct was to yell back. 

“It doesn’t,” he holds his hands up and corrects his tone. He clears his throat and shakes his head. This conversation was getting away from him.

“There’s no shame in it, and I’m not here to make fun of you.” He watches as her shoulders relax, but she keeps her eyes narrowed at him. 

“Then what do you want, Dean?” Her voice is crisp, and he realizes if he doesn’t get to his point in the next few seconds, she was going to either kick him out or stab him. Knowing her, she’d probably go for the knife first. 

"What would you think about an arrangement?" He raises his eyebrows with a slight nod, hoping his stressed word would tell her exactly what he was thinking. 

But Y/N's brows furrow and she frowns.

"An arrangement?" She echos with confusion, her eyes looking upwards like the answer is on her forehead. 

Dean looks away and folds his lips. Maybe that wasn't the best term.

Time to bite the bullet and lay it all out.

“What do you think about a friends with benefits situation?” His eyes lock on hers, and his heartbeat is steady as he stares her down, studying her reaction.

Her body immediately shifts, her hip popping out and her head cocking to the side as her mouth hangs open. 

"You’re asking to be fuck buddies?" Her E/Y/C eyes sparkle in disbelief.

Dean’s heart begins pounding. He can’t tell if her reaction is positive or negative. She was typically very easy to read; she wore her heart on her sleeve and she rarely hid her emotions. You would know if she was pissed as her screams echoed through the bunker, or if she was in a good mood as she danced down the hallways, humming along to whatever was blaring through her headphones. Like the rest of them, she hid the hurt, but the rest of her emotions were easy to tell. 

Not this time though. 

Dean takes a deep breath and his tongue darts out to wet his dry lips, the confidence he felt a few moments ago now wavering. 

“Look, if it’s not your thing, fine. No hard feelings, no jokes, we’ll pretend this conversation never happened.” He tilts his head towards her. “But I’ve noticed hookups don’t really seem to be your thing, so if you don’t want to go through the trouble of sneaking out to meet someone,” her head dips and her eyes find the wall closest to her. “I’d be more than happy to help you out.” 

A beat passes before she finally looks away from the wall and back at him. His lips quirk into a smile. Not cocky, not trying to charm her, but a true, genuine smile.  

“Obviously you don’t need to answer now, or really ever, but you know where to find me.” He gives her one last lingering look before gently brushing past her and out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

He takes a step to the side, away from the door, and lets his body relax against the cold concrete as he lets out a deep breath he didn’t realize had built in his lungs.

He wasn’t exactly sure what to expect, but he figures that went as well as it could have. She didn’t shoot or stab him, or tell him off, so that had to be a good thing, right?

With a glance over his shoulder, he looks at the door, as if she may appear there, but several seconds go by and nothing changes. 

With that, he pushes off the wall and heads back to his own room. He had left his duffle in the trunk of Baby, but figured at this point he could grab it tomorrow. 

He heads to the kitchen, quickly finding a cold beer in the fridge and popping the cap off before heading back to his room as he takes his first few sips. 

Typically after a hunt, everyone retreated to their rooms to decompress in their own way, and after today, Dean was going to need some much needed alone time with his right hand and his stack of Busty Asian Beauties. Specifically, Mikka on page 17 of volume 84.

Walking into his room, Dean kicks off his shoes and places his beer down on the desk across from his bed as he replaces his jeans with his gray sweats. He stripes off his dirty shirt, tossing it straight into the hamper and goes to his drawer to pull out a shirt for the night when there’s a knock on the door. 

His heart jumps as his eyes shoot to the doorway. 

What are the chances it’s Y/N?

He licks his lips as he stares at the door. Chances are slim to none. It’s probably Sam wanting to go over one of the cases he was talking about on the drive home, but in case it isn’t, he drops the shirt he had picked up back into the drawer.

He strides over to the door and takes a deep breath, his eyes looking high as he opens the door, but finds nothing. 

He can’t help the smile that appears on its own as his eyes quickly shoot down to find Y/N standing in his doorway. 

Her Y/C/H hair falls over her coral sleep shirt that has a much deeper V then the shirt she wore this morning. Dean’s eyes immediately find her cleavage, and he feels his heart nearly stop when he realizes her nipples are poking through the thin fabric.

His jaw clenches as his teeth grind against each other, and his semi suddenly returns. 

“I’m in.”

Keep Reading - Chapter 2

For my forever tags, I didn't tag you for this as I will not tag anyone unless you ask/consent due to the sexual nature of this story. So if you want to be tagged drop a comment or shoot me a message (goes for anyone!)!

NSFW Tags

@iprobablyshipit91 @recoveringpastaaddict

[devildom-moss]

Roses for You (10)

This had all started when you noticed a link between a book on the language of flowers you had borrowed from Satan’s room and the current lessons from your Seductive Speechcraft and Magical Potions classes.

In Seductive Speechcraft, you had just reached a section on the effectiveness of spells using non-verbal communication: enchanting glances, dance, and offerings. Meanwhile, in Magical Potions, the professor had been discussing the significance of using specific quantities when concocting potions; they had spent fifteen minutes just providing examples – including adding petals from two different flowers when using them for a love spell.

You couldn’t resist discussing the use of flower language – utilizing the type, color, and quantity of the flowers – to specify the magical intent of an offering as a form of seductive speechcraft. Asmo and Solomon listened intently. The same idea popped into both of their minds, and before you knew it, everyone was looking into color and number meanings, searching for the perfect combination to convey their feelings for you and try to put you under their spell. The only rule for their little competition to charm you? Only roses are allowed.

Will you be charmed by their attempts?

Ten Roses - Luke

Word Count: +1,400

You are perfect

This week had culminated to today – one of those days when a cruel creature crawled onto your shoulder and screamed insults into your skull every few minutes. Its words drown everything else out. You are so useless. I hate you. I hate this. I’m such a loser. In spite of that, you still managed to pull your heavy limbs out of bed and drag them through about 60% of your morning routine – a win. It was just two classes today. You could do it.

You were noticeably slower as you walked to class, and you felt your spine compress and the full weight of your body with every step. Guilt set in – both ashamed and anxious about potentially being recognized at the bottom of this well. What were you expected to say if they asked about it? What if they were mad or annoyed because you were feeling bad again? How honest could you be without making them worry about you? What if you started crying the second they showed they cared? That would be embarrassing.

A small voice broke through your intense focus on the worst possible outcomes. You tuned your ears to it halfway through. “. . . busy after school?”

“Huh?” You blinked out of your self-induced trance. “Sorry, what was that, Luke?”

“Are you busy after school, MC?” You shook your head slowly. Luke grinned. “Great. Will you go on a picnic with me this afternoon?”

“Well, I –” you stopped yourself. The part of you that was exhausted and wasn’t sure if you could put in the extra strength to get through a picnic crumbled at the sight of Luke’s angelic smile. Maybe this was something you had to do – one of those things that are supposed to help you feel better. Your shoulders slumped with a sigh, and you forced a smile. “Yeah. Okay, Luke.”

“Yay.” Luke clasped his hands together with a grin. “I’ll meet you after your last class. We can have it at the park on the way back home, so we won’t have to go too out of the way. I’ll have everything ready.”

“Wait. Can I do anything to help? It’s last minute, but I have time between classes – maybe I could –”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got everything handled. Actually, well,” Luke hummed, wondering if he should share the truth. With a slight blush on his cheeks, he admitted, “I planned ahead, hoping you would say yes. I already made the food and got drinks. All you have to do is be there, really!”

You could hear the determination in Luke’s voice. It warmed your heart that he cared so much to do this, but it was a painful, burning warmth – the prickle you feel when warming your freezing fingers. His kindness felt wasted, but Luke wanted to offer it to you, and you didn’t know how to politely reject it. You nodded and Luke gave you another smile. It almost looked like part of him saw right through your façade, but you hoped his naivety would spare him from knowing how tumultuous your thoughts were recently.

“I’ll see you later, MC. Do your best in your classes. I prepared your favorites – with some help from Simeon and Barbatos, so please look forward to it.”

You tried to look forward to it, and you did your best in your classes – even though the best you could manage was sitting there and getting about half a page of notes down (hopefully about the most important parts of the lecture). You sort of lucked out that you had lectures today. Sitting there was already harder than you wanted it to be.

Luke was waiting right there in the hallway when you clawed your effort from the grasp of Diavolo’s education system. It was almost comical to see such a small angel carrying a rather large picnic basket. It looked like an overkill for a two-person picnic.

“Are the others joining us?” You asked with an ounce of dread. You had only mentally planned to spend time with Luke. Maybe you could handle Simeon and Barbatos – but even Solomon might be pushing it. If Lucifer could go without teasing Luke, you might have been okay with him, but Lucifer didn’t seem like he would be caught on a picnic with you and Luke on a weekday afternoon in the park.

“Nope, just us today. Why?”

“That basket is huge.” You didn’t really want to, but you felt you had to offer, “Should I carry that for you?”

“I had to use this picnic basket. Oh! But it’s not heavy. I can totally carry it on my own, so don’t you worry about it.”

Now that you were sitting in a quiet part of the park where the breeze was light and crisp, you felt like you could breathe a bit deeper. The Devildom was pretty when you thought about it – and you probably wouldn't have thought about it if not for Luke. He pulled out your favorite bread – one that Barbatos must have helped him bake – and that one dessert that Simeon made for you a few months ago. You didn’t even remember telling Luke that it was probably the best thing you had ever eaten. He was still pulling out food when you felt the guilt rise up again. Why did he put in so much effort?

Instead of drowning in the guilt, you tried to hold onto something. “Thank you, Luke. I don’t know what to say. This is so nice.”

“Do you know why I brought the big picnic basket today? It’s because I had to hide a present for you,” Luke admitted proudly.

“Luke.” Even for an angel, someone raised him to be too sweet.

“Close your eyes.” You did as he asked, waiting for a signal that came soon after. Luke said in sing-song, “ta-da.”

When you opened your eyes, he was holding out a bouquet of ten bright-yellow roses. The roses blurred as tears welled up. In your current state, you couldn’t remember what ten meant, but yellow was the unmistakable color of joy and friendship. It hadn’t occurred to you in a while how grateful you were for Luke’s friendship. The tears followed through on their threat, freely falling down your cheeks in the middle of the park.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized weakly. Luke tensed with panic, but he noticed that the corners of your lips kept turning up as if you were trying to smile, so he handed you a tissue and decided to say his piece.

“It’s okay, MC. You can cry if you want to. You’ve been having a hard time recently, right? I noticed – even though I think you didn’t want me to. And then, Mammon told me he heard you whisper something mean to yourself when you were alone in the library. I’m sorry that you’re not doing well. You’re my friend, right? So, I want you to rely on me, and maybe I can’t always cheer you up, but I had to do something. I want you to eat good food and enjoy the world – even if that world is the Devildom. Even if you don’t believe me, I think you’re perfect just as you are, and I want you to be happy.” Luke spoke without any of his usual embarrassment about being honest and affectionate. For a brief moment, you recalled some of the times you had been there for Luke. Yes, Luke was being kind to you in his own angelic way, but he was also holding up a mirror, reflecting your kindness back at you – a give and take that was not always even, but it was cherished. You were too busy crying to think of the right thing to say, but that was okay. Luke set the roses down and got closer. “Would you like a hug?”

You were far from cried-out, but you felt okay enough to wipe your eyes and try to enjoy this picnic to the best of your ability – even if you had drawn the attention of a few demons who were passing by. You stretched your arms out and grabbed Luke, pulling him close to you, much in the same way Satan did with street cats he befriended when they were being especially cute. With a small smile on your lips, you said, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you but if they had angel adoption papers, I would sign them right away.”

Luke wasn’t sure if you were trying to treat him like a son or a pet, but he would let it slide this time. “Well, if they had human adoption papers for angels, I would sign them too. And then I would be your guardian.”

Lucifer (1) | Mammon (2) | Leviathan (3) | Satan (4) | Asmodeus (5) | Beelzebub (6) | Belphegor (7) | Diavolo (8) | Barbatos (9) | Simeon (11) | Solomon (12) | Thirteen (13) | Raphael (14) | Mephistopheles (15)

[soobnny]

eighteen — kim seungmin (teaser)

trope. best friends to lovers. college au. slow burn.

synopsis. it takes you a while to realize being known is being loved, and kim seungmin just so happens to be an expert in the study of you.

est. word count: 19-21k words

release date: within march

warnings. just extreme slow burn. some curse words here and there. sexual jokes

taglist. open (send an ask to be added)

note. i have seungmin stuck on the brain and i’m afraid he might never leave unless i write a completely self indulgent fic about him. thank u to ten for the prettiest header i adore u

The next time Kim Seungmin blows up your notifications is after you’ve just finished your last class of the week.

He’s already waiting for you outside your building, leaning against a lamp post and scrolling through dog videos on Tiktok with a few quokka appearances.

The algorithm confuses Seungmin in that it’s so fast to pick up the videos you’ve liked – even if it was just one. He’s pretty sure he’s only getting these rather abundant quokka videos because Jisung had borrowed his phone once and probably liked a Tiktok. Now it’s everywhere to the point that Seungmin could probably tell you at least 5 facts about them.

He’s been standing there for a good 10 minutes now. He has given up on texting you to ask when your classes end (he reasons your professor must have overtime again), instead just adding a shit ton of videos to his “dog” collection on Tiktok.

When you exit the building with some of your blockmates, you feel your heartbeat pick up its pace at the sight of Seungmin in his oversized gray Dodgers hoodie (one of your personal favorites to steal) and some light washed pants with his cute smile and messy hair.

He looks a little embarrassed, as if he wants the earth to swallow him up right then and there. You suppose it’s because he’s been standing there awkwardly, having to look at people in the passing while waiting for you.

Once you appear though, the embarrassment fizzles away and Seungmin is making his way towards you with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie.

“One more overtime and I’m gonna have to report that professor.”

“You’re just saying that cause you’re impatient and you hate having to wait for five minutes.”

“10 minutes. I waited ten minutes today.” You laugh at the boy, attention wavering when your friends bid their goodbyes to you and Seungmin. You wave politely, and Seungmin mimics you, smiling sheepishly and waving back.

You know they’re tripping over themselves after Seungmin smiles and waves back at them. You’ve been told multiple times by your blockmates that your best friend looks like a walking dream – the campus crush from the International Law and Legal Studies building.

You don’t disagree, it’s not exactly like you were blind. Every time you’d walk with Seungmin anywhere, he was bound to get some attention from the people around you.

There are multiple admirers lining up for your best friend, shaking as they make their way up to him just to say ‘hi’ or purposely standing near him during college events. It also doesn’t help that his whole friend group were the campus crush from their respective majors.

Too bad for your blockmates and the multiple people lining up willing to donate their kidneys though. Seungmin doesn’t care much about anything and anyone outside his carefully selected circle.

He’s polite, smiling back and waving and holding small conversations but there’s always a hint of disinterest when they’d try to keep the conversation longer than he’d like. He isn’t stupid and knows there’s always an ulterior motive to get with him. He knows how easy it is to mistake politeness for interest.

“Come on, I want coffee.” How demonic is it to have a friend who’s convinced he’s Bill Gates’ son with the amount of times he’s asked you to eat out.

Seungmin pushes you forward by placing a hand on the small of your back, his other hand clutching his messenger bag, guiding you to walk ahead along the sidewalks of your university.

He makes sure you’re on the safer side of the road, bumping you to move to the side.

You stop in your tracks, shaking your head at the boy and he looks at you with utter confusion. “I’m not coming with you to buy overpriced coffee. I’ve used up all my allowance for the week.”

“Waited for you for ten minutes just to be rejected. Ouch.”

“Sucks to be you.”

You’re about to say your goodbye to your best friend, heels shifting to walk the other way when his hand easily wraps around your wrist, pulling you back to where he’s stood. You slap his hand away, pointing an accusatory finger at his direction. “You are not gonna convince me. Not again.”

Screw him and his large hands and how easy it is for him to maneuver them back around your wrist to keep you in place. “I’ll pay, just come with me.”

You surrender in an instant. Who were you to pass on free coffee?

Seungmin smiles victoriously when you start walking by his side again before his face falls in a pout, going off in a tangent about how you’re only willing to hangout with him if he’s paying and how he’s too young to be your sugar daddy.

You sigh in relief when you reach the campus coffee shop, the strong aroma of coffee immediately filling your senses as Seungmin breathes out in delight.

Going straight to the counter, he orders himself an Iced Americano before turning to look at you. “Just the usual?” You nod your head, moving away to find a seat for the both of you.

Every time you’re in a coffee shop (which is, a lot), you’re reminded of the first time you met Seungmin.

He was working part time at a coffee shop, trying to save some money for college and you were merely a customer. He had accidentally knocked the - thankfully, cold - coffee all over you. In compensation, he begs for your order again so he could make it for free.

He still knows your coffee order by heart up until today.

Taking both of your orders, Seungmin moves to settle back to wherever you’re seated when he spots Jisung and Changbin sitting at your table as well.

He should’ve known they’d be here today – they practically lived on coffee. Seungmin supposes this is what double majoring in Music Management and with Music Theory and Composition looks like.

“Not you two again.” Seungmin fakes exasperation, standing by Jisung who’s seated next to you before shooing him away, claiming that Jisung was in his spot. Jisung simply smirks knowingly before shuffling towards the seat next to Changbin.

“So, I have a funny story.” When Changbin speaks up, Jisung is quick to clasp a hand over his mouth.

“We don’t have a funny story.” He counters Changbin’s claim pointedly, shaking his head and glaring at his best friend.

But who could open up a topic and not proceed around Seungmin? He’ll pull up every piece of blackmail he has on his phone, appropriately labeled “to use against friends” and start threatening you. Absolutely no one can escape Seungmin, and that’s how you find Changbin telling the story of how someone had kissed Jisung and when she pulled away, all he did was say “thank you”.

“Who says that after kissing someone?” Your laughter triggers a smile on Seungmin’s face, too busy observing you to make fun of Jisung. He’ll save that for later when you walk home together. For now, the sight of you laughing is too enchanting to look away from.

Jisung, on the other hand, ignores your question. He’s already embarrassed enough.

“I don’t know! I was nervous! My brain doesn’t work sometimes, you know?” Jisung’s running his hand through his hair in frustration, desperately trying to defend himself, hands moving inanimately while speaking.

“Your brain doesn’t work all the time.” Seungmin retorts and the boy pouts at his younger friend.

“Can we talk about something else?”

You, in fact, do not talk about anything else much to Jisung’s dismay. On your way back home, Changbin brings it up again after jokingly kissing Jisung’s cheek and saying “thank you” right after.

A heavy arm swings around your shoulder, Seungmin pulling you towards him as he lets his other friends be with their teasing. You look up at your best friend, shifting your attention back to the ground when you meet his gaze.

You’re walking slightly ahead of the two boys, and Seungmin’s just asking you how your day was. He always does this. Every time he walks you back to your building, he’d always ask how your day went.

This might have stemmed from your first and only huge argument – when you kept your feelings to yourself because you didn’t want to be a bother to him. Seungmin’s made sure to create a comfortable space for you to vent to him ever since.

When you talk, Seungmin listens attentively. You don’t know if you love or hate it. It’s a little difficult to recount what happened in your day when he’s looking at you like that. Seungmin may tease you a lot, but you know he cares a lot and one of his ways of showing that is by listening to you.

Your quiet conversation is cut short when the two boys catch up with you, Jisung’s eyes narrow at Seungmin while he walks backward so he’s in front of Seungmin. “How come you like touching (name) and not us?”

“Don’t say it like that, you sound like a perv.” Changbin smacks the back of his head and Jisung giggles when his choice of words dawn on him.

“Sorry. I mean, how come you’re not disgusted to initiate physical contact with her! What about me?”

(Because I like her, Seungmin thinks but doesn’t actually say).

Instead, Seungmin smirks, keeping his arm around you before teasing his older friend. “Aw, is our Jisung getting jealous? Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand once we drop (name) off.”

“Actually?” Jisung beams at what Seungmin says and he halts his steps, instead walking forward with his hand outstretched towards where Seungmin’s standing.

“No, fuck off! I was kidding!” You laugh when Seungmin detaches himself from you so he can properly run away from Jisung who’s desperate to hold the young boy’s hand.

It’s in moments like these, when the feeling of his arm around your shoulder still lingers, and Jisung’s words echo in your head (why does he only hold you?), and Changbin’s nudging your side knowingly, that makes you think.

Could you possibly mean something more to Seungmin? The way that he means to you?

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Prompt 10 with either Fives or a clone of your choice from @the-bad-batch-baroness list of prompts? 👉👈

The Long Way Home [Fives x Reader]

Prompt ten: "Did you feel that?" "Feel what?" "It's starting to rain."

List of all prompts found here [X]. Prompt will be highlighted in blue.

Warnings and Information: Wanting a taste of domesticity the moment he gets shore leave, Fives wants to spend the day with you doing general couple-ly things. A little shopping at the early winter markets of Coruscant, and utilizing every excuse to shower you in all the compliments he can to make up for lost time. When the weather has other ideas regarding your shared plans for the day, Fives is determined to make the best of a less than ideal situation. 

This is a general fluff + relationship fic at its core; friendly for all ages this go-round. Reader written with fem!reader in mind, not described save for minor notes about clothing and briefly implied (but not specified) height difference. Fives being a sweetheart. Sprinkling of Mando’a as a treat. As an additional treat, Order 66? Don't know her; Palpatine died and the Republic won the war. 🩷 2nd person POV. 

Word-count: 5,912

There's a knock at the front door of your residence, one you've been eagerly expecting most of the morning. You're quick to reach the door, keying him in so he can step inside where it's warm. He's late; which he had warned you about well in advance. And the first thing he offers before his usual hellos is an apology. 

A well-practiced one at that, from the warm cadence of his voice, brimming with just the right amount of shame.

“I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, mesh'la, I-”

You tug him close with the collar of his civilian wear (a thick, handmade sweater given to him by Hardcase who had recently taken up knitting since breaking one of his legs - so you're certain to handle it delicately) in a very practiced motion. As expected, it shuts him up just long enough to get a word in while he puts himself nose to nose with you. Practically close enough to taste the words on the others’ lips. “Hey. It's okay Fives. I understand the captain probably needed your help with something, or, you volunteered yourself to help. Again.” Your partner with his well-groomed goatee has a penchant for stepping up and lending a hand to a brother in need, brave and dependable to the end. 

Full lips dart apart, the tender flesh brushing over your own lips being this close is nigh impossible to avoid. “Are you teasing or expecting an answer?” Fives asks, hinting to his building confusion below a toothy grin. “Makin’ it hard to tell what you want when I can’t see all of your pretty face.”

That's fair of him to say, you should suppose. “Mostly teasing,” you promise him, at last permitting yourselves to kiss one another as part of the process - brief, chaste, sweet. “You know I wouldn't press you for details if it was classified ARC business.” You never have. Never will until you know the mission has been completed at least; because while you often burn with questions (as is only natural and expected in what was once a friendship, now a partnership) pertaining to his duties and practiced protocols within the GAR, you take the mantra “loose lips sink starships” very close to heart. 

Should you ever say something that could jeopardize the safety of the one you love, you’d never forgive yourself.

“No, not ARC business,” Fives offers at last, “I, uh… I told you I was gonna be running late because some of my brothers asked for my help with something kinda last minute.” The palm of his left hand strokes the back of his neck in a self-soothing fashion, a tell of either embarrassment or shame. “I couldn’t bring myself to say no…” 

“Young brothers?”

Fives only answers with a nod and an appeasing smile, knowing where this is going. 

“Star-struck little brothers wanting to ask what’s it like being an ARC trooper, and how they can train to be just like you?” you muse, exaggerating your train of thought with a couple of taps against your chin with the finger of your non-dominant hand, the other arm wrapped across your body.

It does not slip your notice how his tanned face begins to look a little flushed when you playfully bat your eyes at him for good measure, knowing what that kind of praise does to him combined with the light teasing. 

“More or less…” 

You giggle, not at him or at his expense, but more the mental image than anything. You can picture Fives, being as eager as he was to come see you now that he had shore leave, getting roped into regaling doe-eyed Clones with lengthy recountings of his service since becoming an ARC. All he wanted to do was peruse the early winter markets with you, the entire idea his from the start; and there he was, at least an hour of his precious free time used up already. All because he was too much of a selfless and wholeheartedly good person for his own good, on occasion. 

“I’m sure they appreciated you and Echo doing that.” Fives doesn’t have to mention his surviving squadmate, Echo, to know that the other half of the nicknamed Domino Twins had sacrificed his own time to answer a few (or a hundred, more rather) burning questions. “I’m sure the captain did, too.”

The humble grin is confirmation enough for you. You can continue to tease him later, however - you’re both wasting daylight the longer the two of you choose to linger in your comfortable Coruscanti apartment rather than getting the rest of your things ready. Light coats or other appropriate outerwear still needs to be gathered, the credits you’ve been setting aside for this occasion needs to come out of hiding, and he still needs to collect the rest of his civilian-wear he planned on wearing. There’s only so much space within trooper accommodations for everything he’s accumulated since the start of your relationship. Thick-knit hats, fleece-lined gloves, a scarf in 501st blue, things of that nature. 

And boots. It’d probably be wise to grab a pair of all-weather boots rather than tromp the markets in your slipper-socks, no matter how tempting the smooth streets would prove. 

Fives is ready far sooner than you, owing to how little he needed to add or change into to be more weather-ready, but he waits patiently. No teasing remarks for how long it takes you to disentangle a simple scarf from all the others, or the childlike nature of repeating the phrase that helped you remember how to tie your shoes even to this day, or any of the other silly little habits you comfortably show in front of him. There’s only a warm, endeared smile to be seen. He’s just happy to be here, to be in your presence after so long, and see all these little puzzle pieces into why he loves you as though for the first time, every time. 

“What are you staring at?” you ask with a bemused laugh bubbling up from your throat. Time to time, you struggle to figure your partner out, wondering what can be chalked up to his training and what can be passed off as quirks unique to him. You’ve gotten better with time and practice, being able to discern these instances. “What’s on that beautiful mind of yours, Fives?”

“Nothing more than perhaps the most beautiful person in all the galaxy, cyare.” Fives replies in earnest, dazzling you with one of those smiles that had charmed you since the very beginning. “And how I get to spend most of my first day of shore leave with that person, all to myself.”

Torn between scoffing and brushing him off with oh surely you can’t mean the most beautiful person thing and trying to shield your flushing face from view, so certain your cheeks must be scarlet red with all the flattery, you busy yourself with ensuring your door is locked and secure against unwelcome visitors. There’s been a minor rash of break-ins lately, and you know that a simple door lock won’t do anything to deter the truly determined - only the honest - it always seems to get a bit worse just before large deployments get shore leave… funny how that goes. 

At least you get a little help when it can be spared by those serving with the Corrie Guard, given your proximity to the senate buildings here. There was no small amount of surprise the day Commander Fox himself turned up at your doorstep to follow-up with a reported break-in for the unit above your own. He could claim he was there just to ask if you happened to notice anything, and nothing more than that, but you knew better. Working in loose relation to the complex goings-on with the Galactic Senate and the red-clad commander turning up only two hours after mentioning the incident to Fives was too big a coincidence to ignore. (You can only wonder what strings in the line of communication your smarty-pants of a boyfriend had to pull in order to get in touch with Commander Fox, directly.)

A smarty-pants that you had all kinds of preconceived plans to spend the rest of the day with, all to yourself. 

The ambling walk to the marketplace offers the pair of you plenty of time to catch up since you last spoke on the comms just over two weeks ago; it was a Zhellday if you're not mistaken. 

You don't really bring up your work if you can help it; the problems seem so trivial when you compare them to the frustrations of stamping out those stubborn pockets of Separatist resistance Fives and all his brothers have been dealing with since winning the war just a year ago. A malfunctioning caf-machine spraying your last clean work uniform seems like nothing compared to a desperate firefight against the horrifying, mechanical amalgamations the standard CIS battle droids have become as less and less functional droids become available. 

You have to ask Fives to be sure you heard him right after he says it. “Hold on: it had eight arms?” 

“Some Separatist-sympathizer - one who's, admittedly, crafty but incredibly elusive - has been a real pain in our shebs for a while now. ‘Case was so badly spooked by the crazy-looking clanker that he fell over backwards on a crate full of smuggled produce.” Fives explains, struggling not to laugh when explaining of all possible ways Hardcase recently broke his leg, it was falling over backwards on a box of illegal fruit and veg. 

“He’s okay, right?” you prod, “What'd Kix have to say about the break?” 

It's touching to Fives when you show your concern for his brothers, knowing you have genuine interest in their well-being. You always have. When you heard that the production of the cloning facilities were coming to an end on Kamino thanks to Chancellor Organa’s new bill, your immediate thought had been for the young cadets who had not yet finished training. 

What's going to happen to those little brothers, Fives? All the Clones still developing in the tubes and the nurseries and-

Mesh'la, with any luck, they'll become the envy of the entire GAR. They'll never have to taste war like we have if we squash out the remaining Separatists sooner than later. 

Fives gives the cuff to one of the sweater sleeves an experimental tug with a beaming smile. “Kix said the worst of it will be the bed rest for Hardcase. At least he's found a way to keep his hands busy between the physical therapy he has to do, thanks to Dogma.”

“Aww. That was kind of him.” you croon. He mirrors the relieved smile, sharing in your relief that his brother's injury was not as bad as you feared. He begins fishing through one of his pockets for something, saying he has a picture to show you. 

“Hardcase made Dogma the ugliest possible blanket using yarn we had scrounged up for him as a way of saying thanks. Thing's got all sorts of colors from baby pink, to brick red, even a smidge of neon yellow somewhere in there.” 

Without question, the immaculate bunk within the frame can be none other than Dogma's. Laid out in a uniform manner is a tidily-knit but disorganized rainbow of yarn in every shade of blue and a handful of other colors. (Sure enough, you can pick out the baby pink, the brick red, and the neon yellow Fives previously mentioned.) Honestly, you think it looks ugly only because there's no reason or order to any of the colors. A crisp, sky blue next to the imagined dryness of such a dusty shade of red is a bit jarring, visually. 

‘Case was likely working with the colors of yarn as he received them, if his brothers were coming up with loose odds and ends as Fives claims they did. 

You voice the question that crosses your mind the more you look at the image in your boyfriend's hand, “Does Dogma actually use the blanket, or is it just for show until it's time to sleep?” 

“Wondered that myself.” Fives admits to you with a cheeky wink between thumbing over to the next picture, a still of Dogma tucked under both the GAR-issued blanket and Hardcase’s, “It was so worth pretending to be asleep for forty-five minutes just to get Dogma to go to bed.” Dogma's always been the last to fall asleep within shared accommodations, so for the ARC trooper you're arm-in-arm with to have pulled the oldest trick in the book in order to get to the bottom of a low-stakes mystery, you can only imagine how disciplined you'd have to be to lay so still and silent for that long. 

“Why not just ask him in the morning?” you laugh, realizing how simple it would be to do just that rather than go through such efforts to trick someone into going to bed. Fives shrugs noncommittally in response before tucking his personal device away again, now that you're both within earshot of the outdoor winter market. 

It's bustling with activity, even for Coruscant. The pressing crowds and all-encompassing noise will make it difficult to carry on catching up in a meaningful manner for much longer. 

“Dogma's not much of a talker in the mornings, sweetheart.” Fives says with a chuckle. “Though to be fair, not a lot of us are either.” 

Strange… they've always seemed so… talkative and alert whenever you've had early morning communications with Fives. Those bleary-eyed video calls spent simply staring at the other, not too sure what to talk about in particular. The stolen minutes between breakfast in the mess hall and the barracks. (The lunch breaks where you've snuck off somewhere secret and pretended you're sharing the same ration, they've been talkative for certain!) Have you just done a poor job of noticing until now? Or are they better at masking how awake they truly are than you expect? But okay, fair enough. 

Now that you were here at the market, you’d be more than a little preoccupied to be thinking about it much longer, with Fives tucking his fingers between yours to prevent both of you from getting separated from the other. It’s rather busy; it must be the morning rush before everyone has to reluctantly shuffle off to work. And you should probably expect to have more than a few elbows - or entirely unaware people - knock into you and Fives while you’re here. 

What catches Fives’ eye first is a female Besalisk vendor with armfuls of rain repellers for sale (one for five credits, or two for ten) with a business partner checking news sources for reports on the weather nearby.

“Ah… knew there was something I forgot to check before getting to your apartment.” He says, quickly casting his eyes skyward. Certainly enough, there are rain clouds gradually building overhead. Strange. While it is technically early winter, this time of year typically has a weird, transitional period regarding the weather. Not quite past the sometimes cold and drizzly days of autumn, but still too early to dust off your proper snow coats from where they've been hiding in the back of your closet. 

“Let’s get one to be safe.” you suggest with a reassuring squeeze of your hand in his. If you buy one of the repellers and end up never using the thing, then you were over-prepared with little consequence. Having one more thing to carry wouldn’t be that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, surely. “Hi,” you address the vendor cheerfully, “a repeller for five credits, right?”

“That’s right! Pick whichever one you’d like, dears.” she tells you with a kind wink, thrusting the set of arms bearing all of the rain repellers a little further for your inspection. 

Fives wastes little time in selecting a repeller with a sleek and subtle design, something he thinks you’d like, perhaps. He’s incredibly thoughtful in that and many other ways. It’s one of the many parts of him that you ache for in his absence, the fondness for his charisma and slight cheek only deepening when he’s away, aiding in the peacekeeping efforts now that the galaxy is largely free of the Separatists. (How strange that things fell apart so suddenly for them, following shortly after the rather untimely and unexplained death of Sheev Palpatine (that, surely, can’t be related, right?) just last year.) You know he’s not giving up the fight just because they say the Seppies have surrendered, not when there’s still work to be done to make the galaxy safer for everyone. 

Fives isn’t still fighting the good fight just for his brothers, but for you too. Every last far-flung outpost they capture, each bubble of resistance they burst, it’s always the same message that finds its way to you, no matter the time and no matter the distance. 

For the Republic. For my brothers. For my Kar’ta. Talk to you soon, sweet. 

Both of you thank the vendor, and set off on your way, imagining what curiosities and delights could be found by the two of you together on this cold Coruscanti morning here in the intergalactic market. With a cultural hotbed like this - a diverse focal point in the heart of the galaxy with a population of roughly two trillion that is Coruscant - there’s no telling what you and Fives will see, from the familiar to the fascinating. 

In a dramatic, sweeping gesture Fives invites you to lead the way into the heart of the market with a dizzying grin, promising to follow wherever you roam.

“After you, angel.” 

You’ll only be there for an hour before the increasingly-inclement weather decides to become a little more concerning. Those cotton-soft clouds, planted in the lofty airspace high over even the tallest sentient lifeforms’ head(s), are beginning to appear denser and darker than they were when you set off this morning. Weather reports you peek at while Fives discusses something with a Tatoonine-born vendor suggests you might have another hour before proper rainfall.

“You say the yarn’s a bantha-blend, right?” Fives clarifies, gingerly juggling a few twisted hanks of it in his hands to get a feel for the softness. “Would it work for projects meant for… say, kids?” The vendor’s eyes flick to you, just for a second, and you can imagine what she’s thinking. Your partner catches that too, so Fives clarifies further. “Someone I know had twins last year. Tryin’ to, uh, contribute to a special present for the little ones. Brother of mine got some good yarn from Naboo to represent the mother. I was asked to find something to represent their father while I was here, if I could.” 

As could be expected, the yarn-seller is now tittering excitedly about how sweet it is that he and this unspecified brother (who’s definitely either Jesse or Kix) are looking to put together something for this ‘someone they know’ who had twins. Sweet little twins who you’ve happened to see crawling around the floors of the senate building out of the corner of your eye, as a matter of fact. But you’ve been aware of the “open secret” nature of the Skywalker-Amidala twins for some time now, and know you’re supposed to treat it like it’s more of a classified matter than it is in reality. 

Yeah, how strange that Senator Amidala and General Skywalker spend a lot of time together. Or that little Luke and Leia show up in the Jedi Temple on occasion, just as a last minute “favor” to the Senator - of course! 

“Yes, the yarn should be appropriate for the little ones!” the vendor promises, exchanging the appropriate credits as change from what Fives hands her as payment before gingerly bagging the hanks of bantha-yarn for him. “You’ll find a card with the best care instructions with your purchase inside the bag. Thank you for your business, folks.” 

When you've stepped beyond the earshot of the yarn-seller, now again arm-in-arm with Fives as you meander the little sector that seems to be dedicated to all things Tatooine, you feel it's safe to tease. 

“You're getting better at lying, Fives.” 

“Mesh'la-” Fives warns you.

“Okay, okay… Stretching the truth, if that's what you insist on calling it, mister ARC trooper.” you add. 

Fives doubles down on the insistent, close to disapproving tone. “Mesh'la… I've told you several times now, you know why we treat it like a secret.” 

“I know, Fives, I was only teasing.” you promise, offering an apologetic expression. 

You understand the faux secrecy is largely in relation to the response of some members of the Jedi Council when the inevitable truth about Senator Amidala and not just one child, but two, came to light. There's been a great deal of speculation from the 501st Legion of Anakin Skywalker’s expulsion from the Order; speculation that has them worried. Selfless to the end, the Clones are just as concerned for the fate of their General as they are about their own.

You change the subject as you pass a stall brimming with food-based goods from the Outer Rim planet, a warm, spicy odor cutting through the ambient smell of chilled steel and duracrete surfaces. Looks to be samples of an alteration to bantha steak soup. Something being offered to the market-goers to warm them up as the temperatures fall day by day, or hour by hour.

“Remind me: ever tried any food from Tatooine?” 

“Some of it's decent.” Fives admits with a chuckle. “Or, it will at least beat having rations for every meal. But nothing beats your cooking, cyare.” 

Your cooking, among many things, is what Fives has been looking forward to most about today, about shore leave. A chance to come home, a chance to catch one another up on the things they’ve missed (things too important or lengthy to say over comms), and a chance for splitting a hearty meal practically invented for sharing with the ones who mean the most to us. Same thing with coming to the market. Fives didn’t want to do a little shopping just to see what was new on Coruscant; he wanted to spend a little time with you away from home first, maybe find something special to buy to mark the occasion.

To be home after so long is a very special thing indeed.

“Hope you’re in the mood for soup tonight.” It’s a little simple, you tell him, but no less comforting or flavorful. “Didn’t know how tired you’d be, when you came home this time.”

“You spoil me.” Fives murmurs lovingly, craning his neck for the moment to plant a sweet, gentle kiss in the crown of your hair and against your temple. His full lips are warm, and where you’ve been kissed seems to glow with that warmth compared to the surrounding chill. “What’d I do to deserve you, kar’ta?”

There’s that word again. Pronounced KARH-ta, as he’s taught you.

It's Mando’a, meaning heart.

“Well, you kept the galaxy safe,” you answer with a sweet smile, “I think that’s a pretty deserving reason, don’t you?”

The warm, heartened smile is all you have to see to know he feels the same way. He helped keep the galaxy safe, yes; of course he should deserve to live a good life with everything said and done. With every bill and law passed towards the betterment of life for Clones after the war, it tastes like the sweetest victory, over and over again. If there was anyone more deserving of thanks, it was the mighty multitude of men who came from Kamino. 

As you’re turning the corner of a larger booth within the sprawling outdoor market, Fives mentions that somewhere down the lane he can hear a live performer playing covers of popular songs on what must be a hallikset. 

“Must be another one of your little soldier tricks,” you tell him with an impressed shake of your head, “I can’t hear any of that. What’s a hell- hall-? Wait, what did you call it?” How did he pronounce that so easily? 

You’re not surprised with many a Clones’ proclivity to be little cultural sponges that Fives seems to have the answer ready for you before you can pull something out of your pocket to search up the instrument he mentioned for yourself. “Halliksets are seven-stringed instruments popular on Naboo. Here, let’s get a little closer.” Fives offers, leading the way ahead to where he hears the music coming from. He wants you to be able to hear it better, to experience it for yourself. Appreciate it fully.

You momentarily pity the player’s poor fingers once you get closer, noting how red with cold they are. Like you, the hallikset’s owner is wrapped in layers between a thick jacket, a gray hood and a long scarf wrapped around their neck. But with the beautiful way they play, plucking and strumming each perfectly tuned string, you wonder if they don't notice, or care. Perhaps the lack of gloves to keep their hands safely warded against the cold is worth it to them for the amount of credits they're pulling in. There's several fistfuls at least, all piled up in the open instrument case. 

“Wow… I don't think I've ever seen one before, but it's beautiful; it's a beautiful instrument.” you offer your observation to Fives after spending a few minutes to simply stand and listen to the performer. Buskers, you believe they're called, playing for voluntary donations in public settings. 

The busker offers an appreciative grin, playing on smoothly without pausing the performance for even a moment as they bob their head in thanks for your compliment. 

“Certainly is, mesh'la.” Fives agrees. He dips a hand into one of his pockets, and adds a couple of credits to the pile in the instrument case. As a way of thanks, the song that was currently being played is masterfully morphed into one of the more familiar military anthems of the Republic, just for a moment. 

The performer, a young-looking Twi'lek, has of course recognized that Fives is a Clone, and is hoping to acknowledge what the Republic has done for Ryloth in some small way by playing something a soldier would recognize. Fives is equal parts flattered and amused, even if he himself may never have gone to Ryloth, that he's being thanked and acknowledged like this. 

“Heh. You're welcome, kid.” 

Putting his free arm around you as you decide to listen to the hallikset a little longer, you and Fives listen to the best recognized music forms of Ryloth start up from the instrument as further homage. You lay your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, leaning into his side a little deeper with a placid smile, drinking in this moment. 

Close to an hour later, when more yarn for Hardcase, a few decorative knick knacks for your apartment, and some novelty sweets have ended up among your purchases, someone’s stomach rumbles in complaint shortly before the time you would typically consider having lunch. Luckily Echo has offered to help you locate something by sending you a file to a map of the market with all consumables stalls highlighted and labeled after checking in on how things are going for you and Fives. 

While Fives quickly speaks with his brother and squadmate, you check the weather. Steadily, it’s only gotten colder, and in efforts to keep you warmer, Fives has sweetly given up his thick-knit hat for the time being until you come across another stall that offers cold-weather wear. There, he’ll find another hat for himself, suggesting you keep his. The fluffy curls of his clone-standard crew cut have been flattened a bit by the hat, amusingly. As a sweet gesture, you try to fix up his hair for him while listening to what Echo has to say.

 Force willing, as it’s only becoming more and more likely that it'll rain, that will be after you grab a quick bite to eat. 

(Pantoran food sounds good right about now.)

“Me? Oh, all was quiet on the homefront - busy playing a strategy game against Rex. Until we got ambushed by a couple of giggling womp rats.”

Fives grins like a nexu. “Brothers’ kids or the General’s?”

“Tup’s little boys,” Echo answers jovially between peals of bubbling laughter in the background, “things are getting a bit rowdy here, so you two better go. Enjoy your lunch and the rest of the market; I’ll tell everyone you both said hi.” 

“Thanks Echo.”

“We’ll talk later, Echo.” you promise. “Also, I’m keeping your brother all to myself tonight.” Echo’s laugh promises that’s fine by him. He trusts you’ll take good care of Fives, like he takes good care of you in turn. He’ll pass along the information that everyone will see Fives again the following morning. The Clone with the Aurebesh ‘5’ permanently inked on his right temple can only offer an eager smile. 

A homemade meal and the promise of staying the night when it wasn’t previously discussed? What better way to end a day than that? Fives walks with a spirited spring in his step, just short of tugging you along after him at first before you match his pace and revel in that excitement together. 

Excitement that quickly turns to surprise with the first of the rain starting to fall over the market. There’s a particularly heavy raindrop that lands with an audible spatter on Fives’ left shoulder. He chuckles, the sound somewhere between an amused ‘of course…’ and a nervous ‘uh-oh’. He’s patting down his deep pockets for wherever he’s stashed the rain repeller purchased earlier, since it could very well start raining steadily by the time you reach one of the food stalls that peddles any Pantoran cuisine.

“Did you feel that?” he asks, eyes flicking skyward between some of the many imposing, glinting skyscrapers that make up the surface of the ecumenopolis. It’s a small relief that you’re not quite out in the open, like you would be if the market had taken place in a location like Monument Plaza, at the least. If the rain got intense, fast, Fives could easily squeeze the pair of you into a dry alcove somewhere in the absence of the repeller now in his hands.

“Hm? Feel what?” you wonder just before you feel another droplet glance off your own coat. “Oh.” 

So much for getting lunch…

“It’s starting to rain.” the two of you say at once. And while it’s not quite sleet, it certainly feels close to it every time the stray droplet finds a patch of exposed skin. The idle prattle of buyers and sellers shifts in tone; a few surprised shouts here and there while vendors urgently cover their wares, and a few shoppers brushing past panickedly exclaim that they’re faced with taking the long way home because of street-closures tied to the event-space.

Thankfully that won’t be the case for you and Fives with the direction you came from your apartment, so long as the dispersing crowds allow. 

Opening the repeller, Fivers now pulls you closer, trying to fit it over both of you best he can. “Here, mesh’la. Wouldn’t want you to get cold and wet… That wouldn’t be a very pleasant combination, now would it?”

“No,” you agree with a little wag of your head, “buuuut, heading back to my apartment and calling in an order for delivery sure does.”

Fives brings up an excellent suggestion while you busy yourself with making sure all your purchases are safely in your arms before the pair of you about-face and make for home. “With a movie to watch, too, right?” Oh Maker, there are so many films you could choose from to watch; there’s always something new that you learn your beloved hasn’t seen, being so wrapped up in the pan-galactic war and its aftermath. Even films you don’t particularly care for become tolerable when you’re snuggled on some comfortable two-seater together, your head planted against his chest as he runs his hands through your hair in idle fashion.

You’re wholeheartedly in support, already impatient to burrow into that large, fluffy blanket with him.

Cupping his face in one hand, you kiss his cheek best you can as you walk, copying his deliberate stride. “That sounds like a great idea, Fives.” It’s kind of a shame that the weather put a bit of a damper on how long you had in mind about spending at the market, you add with a soft sigh.

He smiles, encouraging you not to let it get you down. “Not gonna let a little rain ruin my first day of shore leave, so long as I get to spend it with you, ner kar’ta.” Fives promises, being his sweet, joking self by downplaying the amount of rain. It’s gotten past ‘just a little rain’ at this point in time, with puddles forming atop the duracrete surfaces, some with multi-color veneers to them where the oils previously soaked into the street float to the top. 

As the freezing rain builds in strength, it patters and trickles off the rain repeller in thick rivulets while Fives holds it over each of your heads - it’s kind of a tight fit underneath, but neither mind. Making sure both of you and your purchases remain relatively dry means it’s a slow, steady march back home. It’s probably taking you twice as long to get back home than it was to get there. You could be taking some long, convoluted path, and you wouldn’t mind a bit with the way Fives has one of his arms so lovingly, kindly wrapped around the small of your back, both to hold you close, and to make sure you hear him when he talks.

“I’ve got a few stories to tell from this last deployment, besides ‘Case breaking his leg.” he starts, a note of mirth in his tone. “But there was one thing I kept thinking about, more than anything.” Fives adds, the slow cadence suggesting this is important.

Before you permit your mind to race with the possibilities, the many guesses you have, you bob your head, encouraging him to go on. 

“I’m listening.”

He wastes no time, sure of his words, but maybe not how to say them. “I wanted to ask if maybe now’s a good time to… Y’know. We might start thinking about a couple of things, now that the war’s over, and things are getting safer…?” You could practically swoon, knowing what he’s trying to tell you. What he’s thought about while he’s been deployed with those who’ve chosen to remain in service to the GAR for just a little longer, aiming to finish the job they’d been made for. 

For the Republic. For his brothers.

For you, his heart.

How would you feel about spending the rest of our lives together, cyare?

“Sounds like a good conversation to have over dinner.” is all you’ll suggest for the time being, bringing his face close once more for another caste kiss with the door of your apartment in sight. 

If you’d known he’d had this on his mind just a little sooner, or there was no premature rainfall to dampen your plans, maybe you would have suggested taking the long way home after all, just for the fun of it.

Taglist: @msmeredithrose Taglist form can be found here if you would like to make sure you don't miss a fic in the future. Thank you for your patience, and thanks for reading and requesting. 🩷

[Masterlist] [Requests: CLOSED]

[blazehedgehog]

I Love To Shoot At Trouble

During the Steam Christmas Sale I ended up buying Need for Speed: Most Wanted 2012 because it was like $6 or $7 and I'm in the mood for a new racing game to chew up. EA already gave the game away for free in like 2015, but that meant installing "The EA App". I figured having it on Steam would be more convenient.

You'd think so.

It's not! As part of the first time launch, it installs "The EA App" anyway, which also means it found and uninstalled whatever version of Origin I still had (I wasn't aware I'd ever reinstalled Origin since my HDD crash). As part of this process, it also asked me for my EA password, I misread Firefox's stored password incorrectly, and went through the trouble of resetting my EA account with a new password before linking it to Steam. To my surprise, EA's been sitting on my seven year old cloud save from the few minutes I played of this on Origin in 2017, and asks if I want to import it. Sure, I guess.

So that's ten minutes down the drain before I can even boot up the game. Okay, fine, the game finally launches. Gotta wait while it boots up The EA App each time before it boots into the game, gotta wait for the title screen logo animation, gotta wait for a 10-15 second load screen because even though this game came out in 2012 it's gotta ping some always-online "Autolog" leaderboard whatever. Once it connects, it has to do a slow cinematic pan across your car, telling you what your online rivals have done since the last time you connected, and what kind of equipment you have on your car.

All told, every time you boot up Most Wanted 2012, you're looking at a 30-45 second wait before the game actually hands over control and lets you start driving.

Pull the accelerator and instantly Most Wanted SCREAMS at me:

Fair enough. I'm using a Dualshock 4, and the Playstation 4 did not release until over a full year after this game. Click to the menu it's asking of me and see that the control binding menu is awful -- it's one of those super oldschool ones, like binding keys one by one in Doom 2. I have no idea what these buttons are supposed to be in terms of Xbox equivalents, and I realize that Steam has this thing called "Steam Input" that's supposed to be handling all of this anyway. Steam Input generally makes my Dualshock 4 look like an Xbox controller to most games.

I exit out of Most Wanted, force Steam Input to "on" (I was messing with its settings recently, so I thought maybe it was disabled), and relaunch the game again. Wait for the EA App to boot up, gotta wait through the title screen logos, gotta wait 10-15 seconds on a loading screen, gotta wait another 5-10 on the cinematic pan across my car. I have now spent a minute and a half total waiting for this game to boot while I troubleshoot this.

Pull the accelerator. Instead of it complaining about my controller, straight up nothing happens. That's weird. The Start button works, the analog stick seems to work in the pause menu, but the triggers do not. The face buttons also do nothing. Upon checking the settings, that's because Most Wanted has settled on keyboard mode, even though it's clearly accepting some controller input. After poking at it, it does not seem like there's any way to get it to see my controller.

This makes Most Wanted a special game, because a lot of games I play will happily accept that Steam Input is telling it I have an Xbox controller connected even when I absolutely do not. But this is the rare 1% that seems to be incompatible. It's time to bring in the big guns.

Mayflash makes a terrific little passthrough device called the Magic NS, and the general purpose of this device is that it lets you use any controller on any other platform. An Xbox controller on a Playstation? No sweat. A Playstation controller on the Switch? It'll handle it. If you upgrade to the Magic NS2, you even get full gyro support. Every NS device also doubles as a Bluetooth dongle, so you can stay wireless if that's your thing. I love it so much I bought two, because generally they're only about $20.

A Magic NS2 for my Switch... and Magic NS1 for my PC. Strictly for scenarios like this, where a game expects an Xbox controller and Steam Input fails its camouflage.

Plug the NS1 in, connect my Dualshock 4, and once again boot up Most Wanted and wait the 45 seconds to get through the EA app, logos, loading, and the cinematic pan across my car. More than two full minutes now looking at this junk, and that's not counting the time spent outside of the game troubleshooting this in menus or digging out dongles or whatever.

Pull the accelerator... and my car starts to drive! I can steer! It works! Of course it works. The Magic NS never lets me down. I pull up to the first race event...

Press J and K to start the event.

Those are, uh. Those are keyboard keys. I'm using a controller. The controller is fully functional. You don't need to tell me this in keyboard controls. This isn't going to be one of those games, is it? The kind that still tells you everything in the keyboard shortcuts no matter what?

I drop into the menus again and see Most Wanted is still stuck on Keyboard mode and won't let me switch to anything else, even though I'm clearly using a fully functional controller now. This can't be right. But then I remember: Steam Input is still turned on, and when I forced Steam Input to be on, Most Wanted got stuck in this keyboard mode.

Exit out of the game, tell Steam to turn off Steam Input for this specific game only, and relaunch. Wait through all that crap again. We're up to three minutes just waiting for the game to start, and probably closing in on 20 minutes since I first decided I wanted to try Most Wanted.

Pull the accelerator, it works, drive up to the first event, and...

Pull LT and RT to start the event.

FINALLY. HOLY SHIT.

On the plus side: this game controls a lot better than I remember. It's a decent middleground between Criterion's heavier-feeling Hot Pursuit (2011) and the snappier Burnout Paradise. Though I could do with a lot less full screen flashing or the fact that Autolog alerts hide the minimap for some reason.

Not pictured, but the "always online" nature can also be frustrating if you pause, unpause, and find you have to quickly re-pause again a second time. That second pause will actually incur a loading spinner because it hasn't finished syncing with the server from the first pause, apparently. This game is going on 12 years old.

Anyway. This was a nightmare.

HOT BONUS

"The EA App" now starts up with Windows and is nagging me to enter the login credentials I already entered last night. I have to go through extra steps to get it to leave me alone and not do this

THE RIDE NEVER ENDS

[teawithsatanx]

okay, look. i've been having some weirdass dreams recently. it's been a thing. but last night was probably my magnum opus and i want to share it with the world. for science.

i'm getting married to the least likely person i'd ever marry in my entire life; elon fucking musk. trust me i know, its disgusting and mkaes me ill thinking about it. my bridemaids line behind me is long, 10 really famous celebrities long. my maid of honor? cate blanchett. why her? not sure! i enjoy her as an actress but she's not one of my favorites.

we're at the vows part of the wedding, where grimes is my officiant. because obviously. its the best place for her to be. and we're at the bit where "if any who object to this union wants to object, step up now or forever hold your peace" (actually she might have said peas here now that i think about it). and there is a massive crowd as the audience but its been dead silent this whole time and continues to be.

then... i hear it. the sound of my bouquet dropping and cate blanchett's heels moving behind me. i turn to face her, but that's not cate blanchett. its angelina jolie (who was apparently my 8th bridesmaid). and her mouth is open and even though she's right next to us on the altar she screams as loud as she can "I OBJECT!"

i gasp in such a way that makes one feel the hurt and pain of the objection, shock and awe rippling through my body as if i cannot believe my maid of honor, angelina jolie, would ever do such a thing to me.

so angelina and i argue for at least ten minutes about the sanctity of marriage and how deep my love for elon musk goes (disgusting by the way. hate it). and eventually i get sick of arguing with her, and turn to elon who has been silent this entire time. just standing there with a smirk on his face as if he expected this shenanigans or something.

practically sick with the way my wedding day turns out and how elon is looking at me i state, "alright, if you're so smug. pick me. choose me. love me." and if you greys anatomy girlies know the pain behind that quote you know it was said with feeling.

and for some odd reason bringing out this specific quote makes elon freeze up and his jaw drop, eyes wide. like he would never expect me to break out such harrowing quotes. maybe he and i bonded over our love for medical dramas i dont know.

then, he steps down from the altar and down into the aisle and it suddenly smacks me that maybe im getting married in Notre Dame. small detail to notice on such an important moment.

elon lets out a world-weary sigh and looks out the stained glass window where golden hour is at its end and then looks back at me then angelina jolie. that gets her to stop trying to yell at me even though i'd given up ages ago and she turns to elon too.

then it hits me. i know where this story is going and im not ready for it. i remember feeling physically ill about the realization but i cant stop it now.

elon takes the time to divulge a story about his childhood as a little boy in an emerald mine. he was exploring one of the mines and finds a trove of fairies trying to hide from his father's greed. they try to get him to help, to take them where its safe and they can be free. elon refuses and they curse him for it. man by day. ogre by night. only until true love's first kiss.

just as he finishes the story he lifts up to the air and transforms in a bright golden light into a hideous ogre, causing every single one of my bridesmaids except angelina jolie to faint.

and i wind up just standing there, gaping because i wound up being farquaad in this whole ordeal and angelina jolie is goddamn shrek.

and i can like. tell im being pulled away, fade to black style, but even when i cant see i still hear them say two more things to one another.

"but im supposed to be beautiful" elon whispers, obviously crying.

angelina jolie laughs softly and mutters "it's okay. i have a kink. we can work it out."

[construingseacats]

Umireread: Legend of the Golden Witch - Chapter 10: The Six Chosen by the Key   

Sun, Oct 5 1986 - 6:00AM

The following contains spoilers for the entirety of Umineko. Please do not read if you are yet to finish it.

I’m so excited for this chapter, you have no idea.

Extremely funny mental image of Yasu going to Natsuhi’s room, seeing the charm, then deciding “well if she’s off the table then I’m killing that asshole who gave me night duty while he did his crossword”. Of course, she probably had to kill Gohda to help avoid any incriminating testimony from her changing her assigned position last night, but it’s still funny to think about.

Since the rest are the adults, it’s easy to think about Gohda being an odd one out and the obvious replacement for Natsuhi, but given the above I wonder who the unfortunate backup was. Maybe Rosa? Or potentially one of either Rudolf or Kyrie, originally intending to only kill one of the adults per pair?

I love how Genji goes “Sorry. The Telephones are down” then “By the way Gohda is missing”, and completely neglects to mention that Natsuhi’s door is coated in bloodstains. Just leave the most obvious detail as something for her to find out for herself, you know.

“Natsuhi had a pretty good idea” is SUCH a funny line. Not even concerned by the horror movie trope, she already suspects which family member did it. I wonder who her mind immediately jumps to - although let’s be real, it’s probably Eva.

Eva tries to check on Kinzo and Natsuhi immediately shoots her down. It’s really funny how blatant the cover up is. Like, you’re unlikely to question it, since we keep getting fantasy scenes of Kinzo in his study, but it sure is there if you go looking for it.

Speaking of - the moment we see Kinzo in the office here, we’ve accounted for 17 of our 18 (with 5 known missing). Good game Shannon, we have our six chosen by the key.

Natsuhi, alone in the study, worries about how much Eva is going to tear into her, and then immediately makes up a pep talk to make herself feel good. I’m telling you, these study scenes are a goldmine.

Yeah, Eva absolutely would have been the one to leave bloody scratch marks all over Natsuhi’s door.

Here we go

HERE WE GO

…Okay, you can have that one. Saying it’s a sigh of relief right as they uncover the bodies is very cheeky, but the irony balances out how tense the scene is. It’s a breather for the reader as well.

We actually get a breather with the kids as well. Final moments of innocent Battler caught on tape.

Chills. Full chills.

And here it is. 

Allow me to indulge for a moment.

When I was a kid, my first anime was The Haruhi of Melancholy Suzumiya. I watched it through low-resolution fansubs that had been posted on a YouTube that was still in its youth, with each episode awkwardly split into three parts since you couldn’t upload videos longer than ten minutes. I probably watched that at an age that was slightly too young for it, but as a kid who only knew the world of animation through the veneer of kids cartoons and Matt Groening shows (except maybe that one time I watched Spirited Away when I was 5 - which also left a stark impression on me), it really opened my eyes to a world of new media that I hadn’t even conceived of before. I really wanted to see what else there was.

Anyway, my second anime was Higurashi no naku koro ni.

If I was slightly too young for Haruhi, I was definitely too young for Higurashi. But that was part of the appeal, I suppose - the prepubescent desire to cast away the shackles of childhood and prove your maturity. That you’ve grown up. I legitimately remember 10 or 11 year old me showing a friend the scene of Rika stabbing herself in the head while going “look at what I’m watching now! Look how mature I am!” - admittedly, this was to a friend who had allegedly already seen all manner of films rated 15 or 18, so it arguably would have been relatively tame to them, and boasting about your maturity is undoubtedly the most immature thing a person can do.

While the initial appeal there was that Higurashi was “mature”, it was still really interesting. There was good intrigue there, the plot had me hooked, and from start to finish it was a really good piece of media. I’m pretty sure my younger self saw the scene where the sound of gunshots are covered up by fireworks at the local festival and thought it was the smartest plot point in any piece of media ever. Anyway, a short while later, I heard that there was going to be a sequel anime to Higurashi - a new show, called Umineko.

Now, I had a fine time with the Umineko anime. I would have been 12-13 as it was airing - still eager to consume media I was too young for - and, with no bar for quality, I enjoyed it. There was cool gore! The mystery was exciting! The red truth was such a neat concept and the witch fights were badass! Sure, it may not have had as much of a lasting impact on me as Higurashi, but it was still good, right?

Well, it wasn’t good. In fact, pretty much all the anime reviews I saw for it were negative. There were still a few fools like myself who had enjoyed it, but there was one thing I kept seeing - a sentiment that was effectively universal. A simple statement.

“The Visual Novel is so much better.”

I held onto those words for a few years.

I don’t know what the instigator for it was, but somewhere down the line, I decided to act on it. I bought the original japanese version of Episodes 1-4 and 5-8 through what I believe was the old Witch Hunt site - quite possibly one of the dodgiest deals I’ve ever made, as anyone who procured Umineko back in the old days can attest to - and applied the fanmade english patch. The PS3 sprite mod looked so much better than the original sprites, so I installed that as well. And, 10 years ago, I started playing.

It was… fine. I wasn’t a huge fan of how the text covered the whole screen, rather than appearing in text boxes, like it did in the other VNs I’d played. I say that as if I’d actually played any VN other than Katawa Shoujo at that time. But, I remembered liking Umineko, so I pressed on. I pressed on through the boring introductions, through the boring discussions of the inheritance, waiting to get to the cool parts where Beatrice showed up and the magic fights started happening.

But then, we got to this scene.

There I was, sitting with my laptop on holiday, with my cheap earphones plugged in, as the cousins approached the gardening shed. As the adults told them not to get any closer. As they did so anyway.

What followed is some of the most unrelentingly raw reactions to a visceral scene like this that I’d ever seen in any piece of media, ever. This wasn’t the dulled impact that the anime had hit me with - this was a full, unfiltered, uncensored dive into the immutable affliction of being human. They’ve got no faces - you could feel Battler’s unmitigated despair oozing from it all. These weren’t just characters reacting to a scene in a book. This was something more.

This was the moment that I fell in love with Umineko.

Perhaps I gave too much background to that statement - perhaps I’ve fallen afoot of the same criticisms I levied against the earlier parts of the tale for not getting to the point quicker. But that is the play-by-play of how, 10 years ago, this scene went straight for the jugular and bled me dry. This is where I knew I wasn’t just reading another version of that anime I’d seen the years prior, I was reading something special.

I would be remiss to say this is entirely down to the writing - a lot of this is also heavily driven by the blaring tones of goldenslaughterer. If Umineko was simply a series of 8 books, it wouldn’t have had the same effect on me as it has done for the past decade. If this scene wasn’t equipped with one of the most perfect aural accompaniments imaginable, I don’t think it would have stuck with me as much as it did. But the palpable emotion dripping from each word - the killer performances from each of the VAs (Jessica’s screams are INCREDIBLE) - and the musical storytelling doing just as much heavy lifting as the writing is… it’s an inimitable experience. This is what everyone was telling me that I was missing out on back in the halcyon days of 2009. They were right.

Perhaps it was for the best that I did give it those few extra years, so that I could truly appreciate the masterwork being crafted before me. I can’t imagine even beginning to comprehend the themes or the mystery of this tale at age 13, when I scarcely did so at 17. But regardless of the what ifs, this is the path that led me to what I consider, with no exaggeration, a pivotal moment in my life. It’s hard to describe the emotions that were stirred as I approached this scene for the reread - if I had to approximate it, then it would be unbound excitement mixed with trepidation, a great interest in re-experiencing such an important scene tempered by a fear that it may not have been as good as I remembered.

Of course, it wasn’t going to hit me in the exact same way that it did the first time round - you cannot recreate the sensation of a sucker punch when you know that it’s coming. But I can say, with certainty, that this scene was just as good as I remembered. That it still hit all the points that made me fall in love with the story originally.

I cannot wait to keep reading the rest.

Honestly, after what I’ve just said (and my feelings at large), it feels sacreligious to stop and dissect this scene. It’s something you want to just let play out, to absorb the experience - part of me wants to just skip straight to the end.

But still, I’d feel remiss not to mention Nanjo’s acting here - he goes into doctor mode and then realises “wait, I need to be more emotional” before dropping it immediately. One of those moments that doesn’t arouse suspicion on a first read but feels super blatant afterwards.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Hideyoshi looks and sounds so pained having to perpetuate the crucial lie over here. You can really feel the thoughts running through his head of “do I expose it? Is it worth it?”

AND THEN WE GET HIT WITH WORLD END. I cannot stress how much music matters to me and accentuates the experience; a sound novel utilised to the full extent of the medium can truly produce a story that no traditional paper novel ever can.

Phenomenal work from the VA here - they clearly got the memo that this is a panicked “no” of not wanting the lie to be unveiled, rather than one of sincere desire to protect George. Again, you can still interpret it as the latter, so you’re unlikely to pick it up on a first read, but absolutely there on the reread.

There’s an incredible parallel made here of George holding onto Shannon’s smile, while Battler is doomed to remember the gored faces of his parents. Not only is this great by itself, it’s yet another example of fantasy versus reality, with George being able to hold onto happy memories by being ignorant to the truth (even if that truth isn’t a real truth in this case).

“Proved beyond doubt”, the narrative says, about the one body that we should doubt.

No commentary - this is just a great line and I wanted to highlight it.

And so all the associates chime in to cover it up.

I feel like it’s fairly easy to miss how well Eva is taking the whole thing in this scene. Everyone else is traumatised, and she’s holding up remarkably well.

Interesting how it’s the associates setting up the howdunnit as well! I suppose Yasu wants to make sure that element isn’t missed by the would-be detectives.

And so Umineko tells you to your face that this is the story about a serial killer who wants to be discovered. I suppose there’s already elements of that in the letter to solve the Epitaph, but it’s really made explicit here.

I’m still riding the high of the first twilight. I’m not sure if there’s any other scene in Umineko that I’ll gush about to that extent, but I know there’s plenty of moments yet to come that won’t fail to blow me away.

I know it’s integral to the story, and it wouldn’t work otherwise, but I do have to say that the howdunnit hook adds so much to Umineko that wouldn’t be there otherwise. Some of my fondest memories from the first readthrough was trying to figure out how it was all done (without ever considering the scenes that were lying to us, oops). I’m really looking forward to going through that all again, with the lens of love.