#I also hope you like this for I had a lot of fun writing it 💛

[hvnlygrl]

hello! may u please take my request? :) ♡

rafe cameron and reader are at a party and she starts acting bratty and telling him to go away and shoving him off and then he leans down and whispers in her ear to tell her to meet him in the bathroom for a spanking as punishment but she tells him no and that they should just do jt at home and then he smirks and leans down again saying that if they do it at home he'll make it 10x rougher, then he leaves, giving reader no choice as he watches her from afar with a smirk as she nervously chips on her nail and bouncing her leg. also can u write the smut punishment (edging)

brat.

pairing — rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count — 2.4k

warnings — smut minors dni — raw sex (wrap it up y’all), rafe edges the fuck out of reader, crying due to edging, p in v, oral (f rec), creampie 🫣, uhhh, dirty talk, little bit of after care.

synopsis — at a party on figure 8, you begin testing rafe’s patience with your attitude. he’s not the type to let shit slide, and you’re in for a long night.

notes — HOT HOT HOT woah now i ate with this i think… thanks for the request anon! sorry it took so long i hope this makes up for it tho 💌

the first time, rafe had to admit, it was cute. but by the third and fourth, he knew you were doing it on purpose. consistently teasing him by letting your ass glide against the thin fabric of his shorts as you passed in front of him, or the winks you shot his way over the rim of your cup. he wasn’t mad, per se, just frustrated.

rafe knew you were riling him up, and he knew that it was working. however, he wasn’t ready to leave, the two of you had only been at the party for a total of an hour.

rafe also knew that the more alcohol went into your system, the more you would tease him. and he was right, the longer it took for you to get your way with him, the more horny you felt and the more you pushed.

you finally found a moment where he was away from his friends, using that as your opportunity to whisper into his ear, “baby, when are we leaving?”

“not now,” he cuts a semi-menacing glare at you, “i’m not ready yet.”

you groan, making a face at him, “but babe!”

“no,” he affirms again, “not leaving now. you’re just gonna have to keep it in your pants for a little longer sweetheart.”

now you were frustrated, brows furrowed and eyes squinted at him. “seriously?”

“yeah,” he huffs back at you, “now stop teasing me.”

“or what? what are you gonna do about it?”

rafe looks at you like his next meal, “oh no, no, i’m not playing this game with you right now.”

“ugh, you’re no fun,” you roll your eyes.

you knew you were getting to him, but you also were fully aware that rafe would never let you be in control, especially not when you were acting like such a brat.

he leans down to give you a kiss, face hardening when you weave away from it at the last second, a mischievous grin plastered across your face. he takes a deep breath and tries again; this time grabbing your face as he does so. you wrench your chin from his grasp, dodging his kiss yet again.

“you being forreal right now?” he’s not hurt, that much is obvious, but you can see the mild anger building behind his gaze. “give me a kiss.”

“you can get a kiss when we leave,” you cross your arms childishly, turning your face away from him as you begin to walk away.

he grasps your bicep firmly, pulling you back and into his chest, “meet me in the bathroom.”

“nope, i’ll wait till we get home,” you raise a brow at him, almost as if you were challenging him.

“oh, baby, you won’t like it if you wait till we get home, it’ll be a hell of a lot worse.”

he grips your chin again, this time using his grasp to place a sweet kiss on your forehead before he leans down to the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin, lighting up each and every nerve in the area.

“meet me in the bathroom. now.”

you watch, wetness pooling in your panties as you watch him flash a grin over his shoulder while he makes his way up the stairs. you debate internally whether or not you should follow him, but you’ve dealt with rafe’s punishments before, and the last time was fairly recently, you weren’t sure if you could handle another severe one again just yet.

you quickly scurried up the stairs and down the hallway, eyes scanning back and forth until you find the bathroom.

you take a deep breath, ruffle your hair, and pull your hand from your mouth; a nervous tick you’d picked up as a child, constantly watching your dad mimic the same motion when he was nervous. you knew it was bad, that biting at your cuticles and nails was a big no-no at your age, especially being in a relationship with the king of the kooks. but you couldn’t help it, it was one of those seemingly unbreakable habits that was instilled in you at such an early age. and you figured there could be worse habits to have, so you didn’t do much to quit.

you let your knuckles rap against the hollow core door two sharp times, a signal to rafe to open the door, which he does almost immediately.

he beckons you in wordlessly, watching you squirm in place as you lean up against the bathroom counter. “hiya, rafey,” you huff out in a nervous laugh.

“hiya, baby,” he shoots a wolfish grin at you as he moves toward you, removing his rings and watch, setting the gold items inside of his hat atop the counter. “take your panties off and flip, angel.”

you follow the instructions, lip pinched between your teeth as you do so. you watch him in the mirror, his tight shirt making his muscles pop in the dim lighting. he looks down the neckline of your low-cut dress, his cock growing hard at the sight of your tits dangling against the soft fabric.

rafe drags his hands up the insides of your thighs as he uses his foot to spread them, a quiet gasp flying from your lips at the sudden movement.

“gotta stay quiet, baby, can you do that for me?”

you nod at him quickly, your pussy clenching and dripping just at the sound of his voice, much less everything else he was doing at the moment.

he flips the bottom of your dress up onto your back, leaving your mostly-bare ass out in the open for him to admire. rafe drags his hands across it slowly, fingers tracing the roundness of your cheeks. “you’re so pretty, sweetheart, every part of you is just fuckin’ gorgeous.”

you can’t help but blush at his words, dropping your head for a moment before picking it back up to watch him in the mirror.

“i hope you wore your good mascara tonight,” he laughs lowly, watching as you gulp at the implication.

rafe pulls your panties down and out from around your ankles, placing them along with his jewelry inside of his hat. he uses one hand to pull you a couple steps backward, your legs still spread as he angles you just how he wants you; pussy on full view for him to do whatever he wants.

he begins by slowly trailing his fingertips through your wetness, letting them glide through your folds and around your clit ever so lightly. the gentle sensation already has you breathing heavily, your hands clasped in front of you, gripping each other tightly.

rafe continues that motion for a few more moments before really focusing in on your clit, rubbing it in the way he knows you love the most. he builds up your climax, almost to the point of bursting, and then pulls away quickly, watching the realization flow over your face.

he was going to edge you to the point of tears, that was your punishment for acting like a brat all night, you finally understood, part of you kicking yourself with anticipated frustration while the other part of you felt nothing but excitement.

he flips you over, allowing you to sit atop the counter while he kneels between your open legs, your knees hooked over his shoulders. he starts by kissing long, slow kisses beginning at your knees and eventually trailing their way up to your sensitive area, his lips pressing up against everything except for where you want them the most. where you need them the most.

you were already horny before you even entered the bathroom, hence all the teasing and games you’d been playing all night, but now you were on a whole other level of horniness.

rafe waits until you're far past the point of squirming in your seat before giving your pussy a quick lick, letting his tongue swirl around your clit for a moment before pulling away, his eyes watching the look on your face fall back into a deep level of frustration.

“rafe,” you whine softly, brows furrowed desperately. “please, baby.”

“please, what? you get to tease me for over an hour and i don’t even get five minutes? that’s pathetic, baby.”

you groan at his words, knowing he’s nowhere near giving into your needs.

“you did this to yourself, just keep that in mind, angel.”

you huff softly, the sound caught in your throat when he latches back onto your sopping wet cunt, practically making out with it as you throw your head back in relief. he grips your thighs, letting the tips of his fingers dig into the flesh as he alternates between open mouthed kisses and intricate licks, waiting for the signs of an incoming climax.

you wonder if he’s going to let you cum, or if you can let one slip past him before he notices, but he knows your body better than you do, pulling away as soon as he knows you’re mere seconds away from hitting that point.

he repeats that process a few more times, bringing you to the brink of cumming four more times before standing between your legs, his lips coated in your juices as he grips the back of your hair, gripping it while he pulls you in for a kiss. “you taste yourself, baby? taste so fucking sweet, i just can’t get enough.” he’s almost breathless now, his eyes glossy with lust and his hair unkempt from your hands gripping and tugging on the golden strands.

he notices the tears that have welled up on your waterline, your chest heaving and your expression full of pure desperation.

rafe unzips and unbuttons his shorts, letting them fall around his ankles as he pulls you a little closer to the edge of the counter. he releases his cock from his boxers. he’s big, his dick full of veins and his tip leaking precum. he lets the tip glide through your folds gently, lets it swirl around your clit while he kisses you, his cock throbbing in his hand at the desperate sounds you breathe into his mouth.

your hips jolt forward when you feel his tip barely breach your hole, hoping that the movement would be enough to feel him inside of you, a whine falling from your lips when rafe pulls back, giving you a look. “you want me to keep going?”

a tear glides down your cheeks at his words, “no, no, please, rafey, i need it.”

“what? what do you need, baby?”

“i need you, i need you inside me,” you whimper, praying it's enough for him.

“what, like this?” he sticks two fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out quickly, curling them at the ends so his finger tips brush against your g-spot. your eyelids flutter at the feeling, a frown washing over your lips when he pulls them away. he sucks the juices off of his pointer finger before putting his other finger in your mouth. “speak up, sweetheart, tell me what you need.”

“i need to feel you, feel you fuck me,” you’re truly on the verge of real tears here, “please, rafe, please fuck me, i can’t take it anymore.”

he flashes that tell-tale grin at you, one hand gripping your hip roughly as the other guides his cock back into your hole, “whatever you want, baby.”

you gasp when he finally bottoms out inside of you, the tip of his dick brushing up against the deepest part inside of you. one hand grips the edge of the counter, the other one grasps the back of his neck as you pull him closer. the hand he used to guide himself into you moves to hold one of your legs up to his hip, the other gripping your ass tightly. he thrusts in and out harshly, breathing heavily as he feels you clench tightly around him.

“feels so fucking good inside this pussy, baby,” he groans softly into your ear, “this is my fucking pussy.”

“yea,” you moan quietly, “it's all yours baby, just for you.”

he continues thrusting, knowing that your climax will come crashing down at any moment after all the edging he put you through, and he can’t wait for it. he moves the hand that was gripping your ass to your clit, letting his fingers drag over the sensitive nub gently but quickly.

you grip the back of his neck even tighter, pulling him as close as possible. you can feel a scream building in the back of your throat at the upcoming climax, knowing that you can’t let it escape. so the only logical thing you can think of at that moment, your brain practically fried from the mixture of his endless edging from earlier and now amazingly good sex, is that the only way to keep quiet is to sink your teeth into his shoulder. he’s wearing a black shirt, so you know it won’t show, but even if it would you didn’t really have another backup plan.

rafe fucks you like a wild animal until you cum, his fingers still gliding over your clit as your body tenses, teeth digging into his shoulder. he throws his head back at the combination of your pussy practically swallowing him whole, clenching around him so tightly he’s sure his poor dick has suffocated inside of you, and the harsh feeling of your teeth. the cluster of feelings sends him spiralling into his own climax, hips stuttering as he fills you up, cum spurting deep into you.

the two of you rest for a moment, holding each other as you both breathe heavily. he plants a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling out and grabbing a handful of toilet paper to wipe up the mixture of cum that begins leaking from your hole almost immediately. he gives you your panties back and pulls his own boxers and shorts back up, adjusting his appearance in the mirror next to you. “i love you, baby,” he whispers softly as he watches you go through similar motions, taking a different piece of toilet paper, wetting it as you wipe at your face, c;eaning up the places your mascara ran from the tears.

“i love you,” you smile at him, turning to plant a sweet kiss against his cheek, “that was fun.”

“yea, it was,” he laughs quietly, “you feel better now?”

“oh yea,” you nod, heart fluttering as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a tight hug.

he holds you for a moment, hand rubbing your back softly before leaning back to look at you once more. “now, let’s get back to that party and get fucked up, what do you say?”

“i’m so down, babe,” you smile, fingers interlocked with his as he leads you out of the bathroom after checking to make sure the coast is clear in the hallway.

-> back to masterlist

taglist — @lanasb0ngwater @sarahsangelicdoll

[likeumeanit9497]

bet | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when y/n loses a bet to chris and is forced to go to a party, she realizes that she can be a lot more fun than she thought she could be.

warnings: SMUT; unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); choking; dirty talk; overstimulation; LOTS of plot; mentions of alcohol; 18+

notes: okay soooo...this is long. guys i try SO HARD to make my one shots shorter but I CAN'T DO IT IM SORRY I JUST LOVE CREATING A PLOT LINE TOO MUCH!!! so i 100% get it if u don't want to read all 6,857 words of this BUT i will say the smut in this is excellent. if u do choose to read this i hope u enjoy but i love ALL of u so much <333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨���︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“So after the kid shot me with the SRT I legit only had like 20 health,” Chris’s conversation was very much one-sided as you tried to keep your focus on the study material in front of you. “I didn’t have any slurp juice or bandages, so I definitely thought I was fucked because the kid was running towards me.” You began chewing on your bottom lip as you flipped through flashcards; Chris’s voice growing much too loud for the campus library. In your periphery, you could see that Chris was no longer writing notes and instead had abandoned his pencil to begin moving his hands animatedly as he continued his story. “Oh! And I was also almost out of mats. I was trying to build but he kept shooting at me so I was running out of material quick.” You sighed softly, searching through your business law textbook to find a concept that was sure to be on the test on Monday. The same test that Chris would also be taking, though he was proving to be completely disinterested in preparing himself for it as he continued to drone on about his recent Fortnite win.

“Chris,” You began, finally turning to face him. “I’m sure it’s all very impressive, but we have a pretty big midterm on Monday, remember? That’s the whole reason we’re here.” You shoot him a smile to hopefully soften your words, but thought to yourself that if you had known he was going to be so distracting, you never would have agreed to study with him. Chris blinked at you, a cocky smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He leaned back in the library chair and rested his hands against his stomach. You didn’t know Chris very well, as typically you only really spoke to each other in class, so you couldn’t really gauge his reaction to your words. You watched him for a moment, analyzing the way that his glittery-blue eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again. “But business law is so boring.” He finally replied, humour laced in his voice.

You chuckled, splitting your flashcards in half and handing a stack of them to him. “I know, trust me. But you have to study or else you’ll be fucked Monday morning.” You replied, and with a sigh he took your offered flashcards and straightened up in his chair. “Fine,” He huffed, “But I can’t stay very late, I’ve got a party to go to.” He wiggled his eyebrows cheekily as he spoke, and you stayed silent as you fought the urge to roll your eyes. Finally, you both began flipping through your respective flashcards in silence, the only distraction being the occasional brush of Chris’s arm against yours. You finally felt yourself fall into the satisfying feeling of being laser focused on the material in front of you, when Chris’s voice once again broke the silence.

“Speaking of parties, how come I never see you at any of them?” He asked, dropping his half of the flashcards onto the work table and reaching for his phone. Sighing, you barely flicked your eyes up in acknowledgement before giving him a curt response. “Not my scene.” You replied simply, hoping that answer was enough. “I don’t know if I believe that.” He replied, his voice filled with humour once again. “Hmm?” You rested your head in your hand as you continued haphazardly reading the cards. He stayed silent for a moment, and you could feel his eyes burning into you as he searched for a response. “I mean, I’ve seen plenty of your friends out.” You shrugged. “They’re more fun than I am.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” His words were finally enough to make you drop your own flashcards and turn to face him. “Chris, it’s a Friday night and I’m sitting in the library — where I plan on staying until I’m practically forced out at closing time — doing my very best to study for a midterm that I’ve been prepared to write for about two weeks. I spend so much time in this exact chair that I wouldn’t be surprised to show up one day and see a plaque with my name on it. This is my idea of fun. So how exactly do you think otherwise?” Chris smiled at you, his eyes glimmering with humorous appreciation. “I’ve got a sixth sense for these things, Y/n.” He shrugged, his voice a low, taunting whisper. You scoffed, shocked by his presumption that he knows you more than he really does.

“In fact,” He began again, making you close your eyes out of sheer frustration. “I think I can prove it.” You turned to face him once again, shockingly intrigued by his statement. Raising one eyebrow, you encourage him to continue. “Let’s make a bet.” You tilted your head, unable to hide your curiosity. “A bet.” You repeated. He nodded his head and leaned back in his chair. “We quiz each other with what’s on these flashcards. If you win, I’ll leave the library so you can study in peace, but if I win, you come to the party with me tonight.”

Your eyes widened in shock as you took in his proposition. The thought of going to a party on any weekend made you uneasy, but on the Friday before a major midterm it sounded disastrous. “And what if I say I don’t want to be a part of this bet at all?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. Chris smirked and shrugged. “Then I guess you’ll have to put up with me. As a matter of fact, I bet I could stay a little later, too. I have plenty of stories to share with you.” You groaned out loud as he sent you a quick wink. “I hate parties!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation.

“What? Don’t think you can answer more questions right than me?” He asked, his teasing voice laced with humour. But his words brought you to the realization that he was right, of course you wouldn’t have to go to the party. There was no way that Chris would be able to get more of the flashcard questions that you wrote correct. So, after a few more moments of contemplation, you shrugged your shoulders and straightened up in your chair. “Fuck it, I’m in.” A smile grew on Chris’s face as he took your hand and shook it; sealing the deal.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Yes! Let’s fucking go!” Your face dropped as you watched Chris jump from his seat, fists pumping the air as he circled your work table, soaking in his win. Once he reached you, he grabbed your shoulders and shook them lightly, pulling you from your shocked disassociation. “How the fuck did that just happen?” You asked, your voice weak as you looked at the tally score you had made on a scrap piece of paper. At the start of your little competition, you had actually been pleasantly surprised to see Chris answering the first few questions right. But, as you got closer and closer to the end, and with that, your scores eventually becoming tied, you suddenly became nervous. When you got your last question wrong, you felt your stomach drop, knowing that in order for you not to lose the bet Chris would have to get his last one wrong as well. But, to your horror, his answer was perfectly correct.

“I bet you underestimated me, huh?” Chris taunted as he began packing up his backpack. Shaking your head, you pulled your exasperated body up, collecting your own study supplies. “I guess I did.” You replied sheepishly, and without even looking you could feel Chris lean towards you. “You should never underestimate me.” He whispered, causing shivers to crawl down your spine. Then, his mood suddenly shifted back to his previous giddiness as he slung his backpack onto one shoulder. “So, text me your address. I’ll pick you up around 9:00 and we’ll walk to the party together, sound good?” Chris’s voice was so sickly sweet, riddled with excitement at the expense of both your shattered ego and distaste for your sudden plans. With a huff, you begin walking with him towards the library exit. “Sounds great.” You replied, your words filled with sarcasm and resentment.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Just a second!” You called, your voice shrill and panicked, as you scrambled around your apartment trying to do up your black corset while running to answer the door. Groaning, you momentarily give up on the corset and use one hand to hold it together in the back while you opened the front door. “Sorry, I just need another minute to get this damn top on.” You muttered in frustration, skipping over any greeting with Chris standing at the door. You turned around immediately, leaving the door open for him to enter as you walked into your bedroom and stood in front of you mirror.

Chris chuckled as he stepped into your apartment and followed you into your bedroom. “Having some trouble there?” He teased, nudging his chin to your undone top. You huffed as he leaned against your bedroom doorframe, crossing his arms as he took great pleasure in watching you struggle with your top.

“This thing is fucking impossible to put on!” You exclaimed, contorting your body into unflattering positions in an attempt to see what you were doing as you worked at clipping up one of the many clasps. Your eyes fell to your clock, noticing that it was exactly 9:00. “I’m sorry Chris, are we gonna be late?” You asked as you continued to struggle with your top.

“It’s a party, Y/n,” Chris began, pushing himself off from the doorframe and walking towards you. “We can’t be ‘late’.” Without asking for permission, Chris mindlessly walked up behind you to begin helping with your fussy corset. You stilled as you felt his cold knuckles brush against your spine as his fingers expertly maneuvered the stubborn clips into place. “Thank you.” You managed to whisper, even though your mouth had suddenly grown bone dry.

Once he fastened the last clip, Chris took a moment to step back and check over his work. Nodding in approval, you watched him through the mirror as his eyes drifted along your entire outfit. “Damn. I didn’t think you even owned anything like this.” He laughed, locking eyes with you in the mirror. You took a moment of your own to look at the lacy black corset and black mini skirt covering your body, and mirrored his laugh.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been dragged to a party, you know.” Chris made a cheeky face at you through the mirror. “Dragged is a crazy word. I prefer to think of it as you finally allowing yourself to spend your Friday night like a normal 21 year old college student.” You turned away from the mirror and rolled your eyes, reaching for your purse on the bed to make sure you had everything in it that you might need tonight. Chris chuckled as you began stuffing your purse with your lip combo and perfume of the night, and suddenly you felt the heat of his body behind you as he stepped closer to you. “You know, we can blow off this party if you really don’t want to go.”

You let out a soft gasp and your eyes fluttered shut at his warm whispers in your ear. His mouth lingered just inches from your ear as he waited for a response, but confusion washed over your body like lava. After what could have possibly been too long of an unbearable silence, you broke it by laughing dryly. “Yeah yeah, but I lost the bet…remember?” While you tried to keep your voice steady, you winced at how weak your words came out. Chris laughed softly, his breath warming your skin deliciously. “Ah yes, the bet.” He replied, his voice much lower than it had been before. You shivered as you felt his thumb trail softly down your bare arm. “We better get going then.”

You took a deep breath before turning around to face him. Looking up at him through your false eyelashes, you took a moment to examine his curious expression. His eyes looked soft as they glimmered in the dim lighting of your bedroom, but there was a barely distinguishable tension in his jaw — as though he was clenching his teeth in discomfort or strain — as he stared down at you. “Okay.” You finally replied, your voice a hoarse whisper.

You suddenly felt chilled as Chris’s body moved away from yours, and were completely shocked by the wave of disappointment that crashed through your system. As Chris helped you slip on your black jacket and you both walked out of your apartment and towards the party, you couldn’t help but ask yourself: what would have happened if you took the option not to go to the party?

It was a short walk to the house party, but by the time you and Chris walked up to the front door, you were beginning to grow squirrelly with nerves. It had been a long time since you had gone to a party, and you were sure that you had never been at this particular house before. As if he was reading your mind, Chris nudged your shoulder softly. “Hey, it’ll be fun,” You turned to look at him, giving him a weak smile. He leaned in closer to your ear, as if he was preparing to tell you a secret. “This is actually my place, so you’re already tight with the host.” You looked at him, slightly shocked that the party was at his home yet he chose to meet you at your place first, but it did calm your nerves slightly.

That changed as soon as Chris opened the front door. Immediately, you were met by a throng of unfamiliar people scattered throughout the house, loud music blaring, and scattered beer bottles and solo cups along the floor. After shooting you a reassuring look, Chris led you up the stairs to the main part of his home; filled with even more people and even more mess. A handful of people walked up to Chris in greeting, and you felt like an invader of the party; even though Chris made sure to introduce you to everyone he was talking to.

Just when you were about to ask Chris to show you where the washroom was — in which you planned to spend the rest of this horrifying night in hiding — you heard your name get called over the incessant chatter. Turning your head in the direction of the living room, you noticed three of your best friends on the couch, smiling and waving their hands in your direction. “You bitch! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming out?”

You felt the weight of humiliation and awkwardness lift off of you, and you shot them a warm smile before turning to Chris. Noticing your friends, he tilted his head in their direction and smiled kindly down at you. “Go ahead, I’ll find you later.” With a childish giggle, you squeezed his arm as a gentle sign of appreciation before quickly scampering off to your friends on the couch.

𓆩♡𓆪

After giving your friends a detailed explanation of how you ended up at the party — and after drinking more than your fair share of beer — you had melted into a state of bliss that was nearly unrecognizable to you. Never before had you truly enjoyed yourself at a party, yet at that very moment, it felt as though you were morphing into a completely different person; one much more confident and certainly more relaxed.That definitely had to do with the liquor burning through your veins, and maybe even the fact that a certain pair of blue eyes had been planted on you the whole night.

Laughing at something one of your friends’ said, your eyes traveled across the room and locked onto Chris’s from his place in the kitchen. You watched as a smirk pulled at the corner of his pink lips before he curled two fingers in the air; subtly calling you over. “I’ll be back in a bit.” You said to your friends before pulling your body — heavy from the alcohol — off of the couch and walking over to Chris at the kitchen counter.

He watched you, his head tilted ever so slightly as if he was studying you, as you approached him. You realized in that moment just how warm your cheeks felt as you finally reached him, standing just inches from his leaning frame. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looks like you’re having a bit of fun over there.” He said, his voice laced with amusement. You made an attempt at rolling your eyes. “Alcohol can make anything fun.” You replied, feeling too stubborn to admit that your night was going much better than you had expected. Chris straightened up and turned to the counter where he grabbed a bottle of tequila and began filling up two shot glasses. “Well in that case, I think you should take a shot with me.”

You smiled and stayed silent as you watched him pour the liquid into the small glasses. You couldn’t help but admire his side profile as his long eyelashes framed his slightly reddened eyes, and his teeth bit down on his lower lip in concentration. Even with your blurred vision, you could see the faint sprinkle of freckles along the soft slope of his nose, and appreciated the soft flush of baby pink — no doubt a gift granted to you by his consumption of alcohol — along his cheeks.

You snapped out of it once he turned back to face you, holding out a shot — noticeably less full than the one in his other hand — for you to grab. You obliged, and held it up in a cheers with him before you both tilted your heads back, wincing at the familiar burn as the tequila slid down your throat. “Lime.” You cried out, your voice hoarse from the liquor, and rather quickly Chris grabbed a pre-cut lime wedge out of a bowl and brought it to your lips. You opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around the slice; sucking the sour juice from it while looking up at Chris with a scrunched up face as you ignored the strange flutter in your stomach — a flutter that was most definitely not from the alcohol.

You pulled your eyes away from Chris as you plucked the lime out of your mouth. Hearing him chuckle, you looked back up at him. “Another?” He asked, holding up the bottle of Casa Migos. Regrettably, you nodded your head. “But do you have any salt?” You asked, to which Chris responded by immediately reaching over into a cabinet to his right. As he searched through the cabinet, your eyes fell onto his exposed neck typically hidden by his messy curls — his skin slightly glistening.

As he turned back to face you, a shaker of salt in his hand, you felt your mood suddenly shift into one filled with desire. Forcing a smile onto your face, you managed a small thank you. Noticing your change in mood, Chris’s eyes seemed to scan across your features for a moment in silence. “Lick the back of your hand.” He ordered, his voice low and slightly deeper than before. Instinctually, you brought your hand up to your mouth. But just as you were about to run your hand against your tongue, you were suddenly overcome with an urge — and with it, a wave of uncharacteristic confidence.

“Actually, can I do something?” You asked, looking up at Chris through your eyelashes. Your eyes fixed on his neck, and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “Sure.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. As the word left his mouth, you took the salt shaker from his hand and sprinkled some into your own open palm. “Fill the shot glasses.” You told him, and he immediately obliged. Looking back up at his face — his gorgeous features laced with confusion — you took one deep breath before moving closer to him, your bodies now so close that with each breath your chest brushed against his. His eyes were filled with shock at your sudden proximity, but he stayed perfectly still as he waited to see what you were going to do.

Slowly, so slowly, you brought your mouth to his neck before running your tongue along his creamy skin. As you did, a short gasp fell from his lips and you felt his body stiffen against you. Sticking to efficiency, you quickly pulled your tongue away before lacing your free hand through his curls; using your grip to tilt his head so that you could sprinkle the grains of salt against his wet skin. Pulling back, you caught a glimpse of Chris’s face — cheeks even more flushed and his eyes momentarily shut in bliss — before he looked down at you with uncertainty.

Untangling your hand from his hair, you reached for your shot on the counter and held it up. “Cheers.” You whispered, a small smirk tugging at your lips. Chris blinked a few times before picking up his own shot and clinking it against yours. His eyes stayed glued to yours as you both took your shots, and before the tequila had a chance to hit you with its after shock, you wrapped your lips around the patch of salt along his neck. Even in the loud room, you could swear you heard a soft moan fall from Chris lips, and you felt his pulse quicken against your mouth as you took your time licking away every grain of salt.

It wasn’t long before all of the salt had melted against your tongue, but still you continued to gently nibble and suck the delicate skin on his neck. As you did, Chris sucked in a sharp breath before gripping onto your ass tightly and pulling you against him. You released your own soft moan at the feeling of his large hand digging into your plush skin, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Jesus, Y/n.” Chris groaned. Against your front, you began to feel a fast-growing bulge press against you. Your mouth travelled tantalizingly slow against his skin, until you reached his ear. Grabbing his earlobe between your teeth and gently tugging on the soft skin, you whispered. “You should never underestimate me, either.”

At that, you heard an impressed chuckle. You pulled away from his skin and looked up at him, just inches from his soft lips. So close that you could feel his warm breath against your face, you began to feel intoxicated — not by the tequila, but by him. His hand stayed firmly planted on your ass, the tips of his fingers just barely whispering against your burning heat. The two of you seemed to find yourselves in some sort of stare down — neither of you moving closer to or away from the other — trying to gauge what the other wanted.

Finally, your eyes dropped to his glistening lips, and as if they had a magnetic pull you felt yourself inch closer and closer to them. Noticing this, Chris began pulling forward too, until you could feel his desire burning against your skin. Just as your lips brushed against his, you gasped for air before panting out: “Bedroom.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Chris grabbed onto your hand and began leading you to a set of stairs descending into the basement. You could hear your own pulse over the music as it began growing more distant when you both reached the bottom of the stairs. Once you reached a locked door, Chris began pounding against it urgently. “Get the fuck out of my room!” He called through the door, and as you heard the sound of panicked shuffling on the other side he turned to face you; his eyes exuding pure desire as he ran his thumb pad against your lower lip.

You jumped as the door suddenly burst open and watched as two undone people slipped past you both; actively avoiding eye contact. As soon as they passed you, Chris grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into the dimly lit room. Without even a moment to adjust to your surroundings, you gasped as Chris slammed you against the closed door and engulfed your open mouth with his own. You moaned at the feeling of his lips moulding to yours, bringing with them a relief to the tension that had been building between you all night.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you welcomed it with a gasp. You relished in the feeling of his tongue completely and utterly dominating not just your mouth, but your whole body, as you felt yourself weaken in between the wooden door and his towering frame. Your head began to spin at the unfamiliar yet intoxicating taste of his lips, just as you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

His eyes drilled into yours for a moment, as though he was checking to make sure you were okay with what he was about to do. When you knit your brows together and began sucking on your bottom lip — desperate for his touch — he shot you a cocky smirk before drawing his attention to what was in his direct line of sight. His hands slid from your waist down to your thighs, where he began massaging them slowly while simultaneously dropping wet kisses against your burning skin.

Reacting to this, you inadvertently spread your legs further apart. As you did, you felt his lips curl into a smile against your skin as he continued running his tongue against your inner thighs. While continuing to drive you crazy with his mouth, he brought his hands up to the zipper of your skirt. As he fiddled with with the metal, he spoke against your skin. “You want this?” A soft moan fell from your lips, eliciting a chuckle from his. “I need to hear you say it, baby.” He urged, causing your chest to rise and fall rapidly. “Y-yes.” You finally managed to reply, gasping for air as you did. At your response, Chris gently nibbled at the sensitive skin on your thigh, just below the end of your skirt, as he began sliding the black material down your legs. “Good girl.” He praised just as he let the skirt drop to your ankles.

Now with just your sheer panties between his warm mouth and the place you needed it the most, you began squirming as he took a moment to admire your barely-covered heat. He brought his hands up from their place on your thighs to the soft wisp of hair along your bikini line. You shivered in pleasure from his touch so close to where you were aching for him, and watched as his eyes seemed to grow enlivened by his view. “Didn’t expect you to be wearing something like this under that skirt.” He uttered, his voice thick with desire as he toyed with the sheer material. “What did I say about underestimating me?” You replied through your breathlessness.

With that, Chris looked up at you through his thick eyelashes, a smirk cemented into his face, before hooking his thumbs onto either side of your sheer thong and dragging it excruciatingly slow down your legs; until you were suddenly completely bare in front of him. As your pussy radiated desire just inches from his face, his smirk was replaced by one of agony; as if he was suddenly desperate to bury himself into its warmth. He grabbed both of your thighs, firmly pulling them further apart, before he ran his tongue slowly along your dripping slit; his eyes drilling into you as he did. You watched as a pool of your slippery arousal gathered on his tongue, and only once he swallowed your juices did his eyes flutter closed; officially losing himself.

You cried out as soon as his warm mouth wrapped around your pulsing clit, creating an infrangible suction that caused your hips to involuntarily buck into him. Chris moaned against your bundle of nerves, sheer enjoyment plastered to his softened expression, as you laced your thin fingers through his curly hair. “Jesus.” You moaned out incoherently, unable to form a genuine thought as Chris’s tongue worked you through shock waves of pleasure. He groaned against your pussy in response, his face completely buried in between your wet folds.

You gasped as you felt his finger begin to circle your hole, teasing your entrance as it begged him for more. Noticing your flexing walls and dripping arousal, Chris slipped two hooked fingers into your spongey cunt; pumping them into you with vigour as his mouth continued to work against your throbbing clit. The room filled with the wet sounds of Chris’s fingers plunging into you, and you felt that familiar tension in your lower stomach begin to grow nearly unbearable. Your grip on his hair tightened, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding your slick heat against his eager mouth.

“F-fuck C-Chris, I — FUCK!” You struggled to speak as you began to lose control of your body, writhing under his hold on you as though you were trying to run from your impending orgasm. In response, Chris’s fingers began to pump into you even quicker, drawing a long moan from your lips. “It’s okay baby,” He reassured you against your clit, his voice an octave lower than usual, “Make a mess all over me.” Your back arched against the door, his encouraging words drawing you closer to your orgasm. Chris used his free hand to grab your thigh, lifting it off the ground and resting it on his shoulder; granting him access to pump his thick fingers even deeper into you.

As he pounded his fingers into your g-spot relentlessly, your body momentarily stilled as you were hit with white-hot pleasure. “Fuck!” You cried out as the waves began crashing into you, causing your body to now begin to convulse uncontrollably. Your nails dug into his scalp as you struggled to stay upright throughout your earth-shattering orgasm. Once he felt your walls begin to pulse around his fingers, he quickly slid them out; allowing you to ride through your high as his mouth began ardently drinking up your warm juices.

As soon as he noticed your moans begin to calm down, he lifted you off of your shaky legs and carried you to the bed. As he walked, he effortlessly undid the many clips on the back of your corset; freeing your full tits and wrapping his wet, swollen lips around one. As he swirled his tongue around your pebbled nipple, he gently laid you down along the edge of his large bed. With a pop he pulled his mouth off of your tit before heedlessly unbuckling his pants and slipping them down his legs, before doing the same with his boxers. You watched in awe as his cock sprung free, feeling that insatiable need grow even stronger deep inside of you.

“Need to feel that soaked fucking pussy wrapped around my cock so fucking bad.” Chris murmured, collecting the fast-growing arousal from your slit on his fingers before using the slippery fluid to stroke his member a few times. Leaning down, he drew your lips to his in a desperate and sloppy kiss, and as he did you felt the girth of his tip pressing incessantly against your dripping entrance. Groaning in anticipation, you writhed under his grip and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Unable to hold back, Chris released a guttural moan against your cheek as he suddenly slammed every inch of himself into you. You cried out in pleasure as his cock pumped into you hard and fast without giving you a moment to adjust to his size. His incessant groans and sharp breathing let you know how good your pussy felt as it enveloped his swollen shaft. “C-Chris y-you’re hu-uge!” You managed to cry out, your eyes bulging from your head as you felt your walls stretch to accommodate his size.

At that, Chris lifted his head from your cheek and dropped his eyes to watch your swollen pussy as his cock continued to pound into it. He brought a hand to your lower stomach, pressing down so that you could see the bulge that his cock was imprinting into it. With an arrogant smile on his lips, he looked back up to your fucked-out face. “You’re takin’ it so good, baby.” His words made your head spin, and you released a loud moan as you gripped onto his arms. Chris looked back down at where your pussy was swallowing his cock, and you watched his jaw go slack as he seemed to relish in the magnificent pleasure that the sight brought him.

“This pussy was fuckin’ made for me.” He groaned out, his voice low as though he was speaking to himself rather than you. Still, his obsession drew another wave of pleasure through your body, and you desperately wanted to see what he was seeing. With shaky limbs, you managed to lift your shoulders up, resting the weight of your upper body on your elbows. You gasped as you watched Chris’s thick cock disappear inside of you again and again; pulling ribbons of your arousal out on each thrust and spreading them along your inner thighs and his lower stomach.

Chris’s eyes lifted up to yours, where they stayed as he continued to pound into you. Suddenly, he brought a veiny hand to your throat; gently squeezing the sides as he bit on his lower lip. “You see how fuckin’ pretty your pussy looks milking my cock?” You let your eyes drop back to the place where your bodies met, entranced by the sight of your bright pink lips wrapping around his length. “If I died inside of you right now, I would die a happy fucking man.” He leaned forward and melted his soft lips to yours, kissing you so deeply that your head spun.

Chris’s pace began to slow; becoming much sloppier. Deep grunts fell from his lips as he dropped his forehead onto your collarbone where he placed wet, open mouthed kisses as he plunged up into your g-spot. “Fuuuuck.” He hissed, his breath warm against your clammy skin as he seemed to get caught up in how good he was feeling. “Chris.” You breathed, your brain turning to mush as you felt every inch of his cock slip through your walls at this new, excruciatingly slow, pace.

Suddenly, his movements completely stilled as he leaned over you and grabbed a pillow from the top of his bed. He straightened himself up on top of you, grabbing your waist and lifting it effortlessly as he slid the pillow under your lower back. Confused, you look up at him with knitted brows; your chest rising and falling. Noticing your un-asked question, Chris spoke. “I’m gonna cum in a minute,” He said, slowly beginning to slide in and out of you again. “And when I do, I wanna feel your pussy convulsing around me.”

With that, Chris pressed one hand firmly onto your lower stomach while using two fingers to spread apart the protective hood above your clit. With his other hand, he brought his thumb to your exposed clit and began rubbing it gently; relishing in the way your body flexed erotically each time he did. Your moans slipped past your lips in helpless squeaks, feeling overstimulated by Chris’s direct contact with your bundle of nerves in unison with the added pressure in your gut caused by his hand pressing against it. “G-god!” You cried out, grabbing onto both of Chris’s wrists as he continued working your clit and fucking you senseless; unsure of whether you were trying to pull his hands away or keep them exactly where they were.

Chris’s eyes stayed glued to your swollen clit, but his breathing grew more and more ragged as he quickly approached his orgasm. You could feel his cock swelling inside of you as he struggled to hold himself back. “Fuck,” He growled, his cheeks even more flushed than before, “Cum for me baby, please.” His voice broke at the end of his sentence, a clear sign that he was on the edge of losing control. You felt your own walls begin to crash down, sending you closer and closer to what was sure to be an earth-shattering orgasm. “P-please — a-almost there.” You whined, your back arching off of the bed as you began to feel as though you were being lit on fire.

Chris dropped his forehead onto your chest, being sure to keep his movements the same as he released soft moans against your skin. “Come on sweetheart.” He grunted as he thrusted up into you, running dangerously low on will-power, “Let me feel you cum for me.” The gritty desperation in his voice was enough to finally push you over the edge. As soon as he felt that first intense pulse reverberate through your walls, he finally allowed himself to lose all control. His hips began pounding into you incessantly as your legs tightened around his waist. Deep, brutish moans fell from his lips on each thrust as his thumb continued to rub against your clit.

“Jesus fuck!” You cried out, feeling the pressure that had been building in your stomach release as you squirted against Chris’s pelvis. As you did, Chris’s thrusts suddenly stilled, and while his thumb toyed with your clit, he released a guttural moan before you felt his warm fluid spill into your quivering pussy. His swollen cock pulsed in between your walls, and you moaned in unison with him as he began to rock himself in and out of you slowly; using your tight pussy to milk himself dry.

Once both you and him came back down to earth, Chris collapsed into your chest; laying there for a moment as you both struggled to catch your breath. Your hands fell onto Chris’s curly hair, which you ran your fingers through slowly as he drew small circles on your hip bone; both of you helping the other get back to their sober minds.

After a short while, Chris planted an affectionate kiss to your chest before lifting himself up. He pulled out of you slowly, his glazed eyes watching as his cum dripped out of you. You watched as he reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed his discarded t-shirt. After shooting you a charming smile, he gently grabbed your right thigh, spreading it slightly before using the soft material of the t-shirt to delicately wipe away the mess he had made of you. “You sore?” He asked, his voice gentle as he gazed up at you. You nodded, looking up at him with a smile as you leaned back on your elbows. “Nothing I can’t handle.” You added, sticking your tongue out cheekily.

“I am gonna need your help with the corset again before we head back upstairs, though.” You sighed, gesturing to the discarded pile of lace and buckles on the floor. Chris’s eyes followed to where you pointed. “Or…” He began, tugging at the edge of his comforter, “We could just stay down here?” Your eyes drifted up to his face, and you were met with a sheepish, tired smile. Feeling a wave of relief wash over you, you crawled to the top of the bed and curled under the warm blanket. “Thank God.” You muttered, earning another smile from Chris before he followed you into the sheets.

He pulled you into his arms, and you closed your eyes at the comforting feeling of the warmth emanating from his naked body. Exhaustion began to immediately overtake you, and you felt yourself grow heavy in his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back up?” You asked, worried that he might just feel obligated to be there with you, “You’re gonna miss out on all the fun.” Your voice was now thick with sleep. Chris chuckled, squeezing you gently in his arms. “All the fun is right here. I told you, Y/n, my sixth sense never fails me.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[tiyawnyana]

hi!! can you write sevika x younger reader where the reader is like 22-24 and sevika feels this dread one day realizing that she actually does like this woman despite their (moral) age gap and even wants to take things further which usually doesn't happen for her (also having a hard time telling the reader her feelings or anyone for that matter)

bonus points if the reader is a bartender or something at The Last Drop!

I hope this is an interesting enough request

Thank you for the request!!! I had so much fun diving into drinks and their meanings ahhsdmdm

A/N: slowly chipping away at some of these but I've never felt more pleased doing these

Characters: Sevika x Young Bartender!Fem Reader

Warnings: alcohol drinking

Minors DNI

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Apricot Fizz

The first time Sevika noticed you was when you were leaving Silco's office with a pep to your step unfitting to Zaun- especially in The Last Drop.

She remembers the glint in your eye- eager and energetic with a flush to your cheeks. You were young. Too much of an age gap for her eyes to linger as long as they did.

She was surprised to see that you had actually landed the job as the bartender- the second time she had noticed you.

She ignored you, deciding not to get a drink that night- or the next few nights.

Your energy was a lot. Almost too much- you almost had a crowd gathering around the bar, people eager to get even a moment of your time.

Sevika had grown restless, needing a drink after a great game of cards. She finds herself almost nervous, for whatever reason, but nonetheless approaches the bar after the slight crowd simmers down.

She puts out her cigarillo, exhaling the last bit of smoke when your hand comes into view, sliding an orange drink in a beer glass in her direction.

“The hell is this?” She huffs, bringing her gaze up to yours.

Your cheeks are flushed as you make another drink for another customer,”Saw you comin’ up, haven't gotten you a drink this week so didn't know what you liked-”

“Beer,” she mutters, eyeing the glass in question,”or whiskey.”

You nod, a sheepish smile on your lips,”Sorry- I can take this-”

She waves her hand, clasping the class in her hand as she eyes the liquid,”Not gonna waste alcohol,” she mutters before taking a sip.

The fruity drink explodes on her tongue, slightly sour with a flavor of orange beneath the lemon. She was surprised, couldn't even taste the alcohol. She eyes it in confusion.

You giggle softly,”It's a cocktail,” you respond with a grin,”They're dangerous, the alcohol sneaks up on ya.”

Sevika nods in silence, sipping it again before turning around to face the rest of the bar. She could feel a flush beneath her skin that she quickly stifled- She couldn't think of you like that.

The next few nights, you slide a variation of beer and whiskeys to her across the bar.

You manage to get idle chit chat from her on occasion and she slowly allows you to break down one of her millions of walls.

“What was that first drink you gave me- from the first time you served me?” Sevika finds herself wondering after a few beers and another gambling win.

“Oh! The orange one?”

Sevika nods as she sips her beer.

“Apricot fizz,” you respond as you clean out a glass.

Sevika watches you with a deadpan look on her face,”How did you learn to make that? I thought this was your first bartending gig?”

“It is,” you hum, quickly stepping to the side to refill a customer's beer before coming back to her,”I have a whole book about different drinks to make and their ‘meanings’.”

She watches you shake your head, then exhales,”Drinks and their meanings?” She echoes, a scowl on her lips.

You laugh softly, nodding at her confusion as you clean another glass.

“What does the beer mean, then?”

Your gaze connects with hers and she watches as a warmer blush covers your cheeks,”Uh- from what I remember it has less of a meaning and more so like- a symbol of community and celebration.”

She watches you speak with your hands, finding it an endearing trait of yours.

“What about the other one?”

You swallow, averting your gaze as you struggle to come up with an answer, already knowing it,”I'd have to read that one again, I don't quite recall.”

She hums at your response, gaze narrowed but otherwise drops it. She finishes her beer before tapping her glass,”I'll take one of those, then.”

You nod with a small smile on your lips as you take her glass and replace it with the cocktail.

Her hand brushes yours and she swears she feels something electric buzz beneath her skin.

She ignores it again, looking away from you despite how much she wants to let her gaze linger.

It's another night at The Last Drop, one of the slower nights much to your surprise.

You're cleaning off the counters and glasses when you hear the door open. Sevika strides in with Ran right behind her, who splits off to play pool with one of their friends.

You circle the bar as she walks up to order a drink. She looks disheveled, tired.

“You alright?” You murmur softly as she sits on one of the stools across from you.

Sevika grunts, her prosthetic arm coming to rest on the bar,”I'm fine.”

You nod, dropping it,”Want a beer?”

She shrugs, resting her chin in her hand,”Surprise me.”

You gawk at her in surprise for a moment before nodding, thinking of another drink she could try.

She watches as you work, nose scrunching as you add cherries on a toothpick to lay on top the rim of the cocktail glass.

You slide it over to her, a burgundy orange color.

“What's this one?” She murmurs, picking up the toothpick and biting one of the cherries off.

“It's called the Rob Roy,” you speak fondly, cleaning out a glass a customer leaves on the counter.

She raises a brow, lifting it to take a sip before humming as she takes in the smoky feel on her tongue.

“I don't remember what this one means either,” you smile sheepishly, gaze averted.

“You should reread that book of yours, then,” she teases before quickly drinking the rest of it. “Got any others up your sleeve?” She murmurs, sliding the glass your way.

You grin, thinking for a moment before nodding and making her another.

You slide a tall glass across the counter, an orange slice perched on the rim of an equally orange drink.

“Screwdriver,” you grin,”Apparently it was named that because of mine workers stirring the drink with a screwdriver.”

“That is.. not reassuring,” she mumbles before taking the orange slice off and placing it on the napkin before sipping the bright drink.

You giggle softly, watching her sip it,”Orange juice and vodka, another dangerous one.”

She nods, masking the fact that she actually really liked this drink.

Ran comes up, eyeing the drink in Sevikas hand before requesting the same one.

You make it no problem but flush as Ran speaks.

“Don't these drinks have, like, romantic meanings?” They ask as they lean against the bar.

You shrug, avoiding both of their gazes,”Maybe- I don't remember all of the drinks' meanings.”

“My dad was a bartender-” Ran grins, nodding in thanks as you slide the tall glass their way,”He used drink language to get my Ma to notice him.”

Sevika hums, eyeing your blushing face and taking note as you avert your gaze.

Sevika quickly realizes she's looking forward to seeing you every night now.

It irritates her- crawls beneath her skin and makes agitation fester when she doesn't see you some nights.

It's like an addiction. She grows more fond of your soft smile and those stupid fruity drinks.

Whenever she does see you, she trails her gaze over your features.

The slope of your nose, the curl of your lips when you laugh, the slight crows feet around your eyes from smiling so much. It's such a shock to her- she's found so little reason to smile down here yet you've found enough to give you a permanent glow.

Whenever you hand her one of those drinks, she allows her gaze to trace unmarred flesh. Not one visible scar along your arms or knuckles whereas scars have faded with time along her own body.

She's infatuated and she hates it. Hates that you're so young- maybe if you were closer in age, she wouldn't find a problem but after hearing you were 24, she couldn't get it out of her head.

You were everything kind and sweet in someone unbeknownst to the cruelties in the undercity.

She avoids you. Finds herself drinking less a few times a week, more time spent outside gambling.

She knows you know, she can feel your gaze when she walks past. She feels guilty, despite the fact that she knows this is for the best. She can't be caught up with someone so inexperienced- so young.

It's been a few weeks now of avoiding you.

Sevika is gambling now when a glass is placed next to her. She side eyes it, looking up to see Ran with a narrowed look in their eyes.

“The fuck is this?” She mutters, pulling her cigarillo from her lips.

“It's a gimlet,” they mutter, rolling their eyes at her attitude.

“A gimlet?” Sevika echoes with a scoff, lifting the glass and sniffing it. There's a slight lime scent,”What's this for?”

“From your friend, who's really wondering if she did something wrong,” Ran huffs out, crossing their arms.

Sevika huffs out a sigh of defeat, eyeing the drink before sipping it.

“Each of these drinks has meaning, you oaf,” Ran scoffs down at her, then hands her a small book.

Sevika narrows her gaze.

“Oh for fucks sake, take the book and read the meanings,” they wave the book around before Sevika scoffs and takes it. Ran is silent for a moment before making a move to walk back inside,”She thinks she said something wrong to offend you.”

“She didn't,” Sevika sighs.

“I know, you're just being an ass.”

Gimlet- ‘The long goodbye,’,’thoughts of someone far away.’

Sevika's eyebrows scrunch as she reads the meanings of these drinks.

“The long goodbye?” She murmurs lowly, confused before guilt claws at her belly. She rubs her hand down her face, covering her mouth as she stares up at her ceiling.

She flips through the pages, reading different meanings before she remembers the first name.

Apricot Fizz- ’Please look my way.’

Something swirls in her belly, this time not an unpleasant feeling as she rereads it at least a dozen times.

She sits up off her bed, trying to remember what one of the other drinks you had given her as she flips through the pages.

A memory sparks as she hits S.

Finally, she finds it.

Screwdriver- ‘You've stolen my heart.’

Her face flushes, eyes widening as she stares down at the page.

She puts the book down for a bit after that, paces her small apartment as she thinks to herself before hopping into the shower to help relax her muscles.

Finally, she calms down enough, easing away the guilt as she picks up the book again to find the last one.

Most ridiculous name for a drink, might she add.

Rob Roy- ‘I want to capture your heart.’

She sighs, dropping the book back on the bed as she flops backwards onto her bed.

She hates the realization that she's got it bad for you. Hates that she looks forward to seeing you despite the fact that she'd been avoiding going up to the bar. Hates that she misses your soft laugh.

She hates that you make her heart warm.

She's thankful that Silco sends her out on a job that takes her away from The Last Drop, using it to get her head on straight.

When she returns, having read through that book at least three times over by this point, she's made up her mind.

Her buddies are out gambling around the corner of the bar as she approaches, waving their way before heading into the bar.

It's late. There's not many people around the bar at this hour, she silently thanks whatever God or goddess may be smiling down on her at this moment.

You're cleaning some glasses, seemingly lost in thought as you don't notice her walking up.

She sits down, arms resting on the counter and she nods at you when you finally look up at her.

Your cheeks heat up,”Sorry-” you murmur.

“Don't apologize, doll,” she speaks softly,”I should- uh, apologize.”

She's looking down at the bar, not seeing the blush across your face at the nickname.

“I was being an ass,” she murmurs, brushing her hand down her face and looking back up at you,”I.. don't really have an excuse.”

You shake your head, waving your hand to brush it off,”I was just worried I said something to upset you or-”

“No, you haven't,” Sevika gazes at you, leaning closer over the bar but keeps a sizable distance,”I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” you murmur after a moment of silence,”Want a beer?”

Sevika shakes her head, looking down at her hands,”Actually- uh-”

She looks awkward for a moment, giving one last thought before nodding to herself.

“Can I make you one?” She murmurs.

Your eyes widen in surprise.

She stands up, waiting for your reply.

“Yeah- yeah, uh, come on around,” you laugh softly in disbelief.

Sevika looks toward Ran, tucked in the back and shoots them one look that has them scrambling up and gripping their friends elbow, everyone remaining in the bar leaving as you turn away for a moment to open the side of the bar.

Sevika comes around, eyeing the inside of the bar and spotting one of the ingredients she needs. She ushers you out and you laugh softly, shaking your head in fondness.

She grasps the orange juice as you settle in, sitting down on the stool across from her.

“Where are the tall glasses?” Sevika looks at you, then nods as you point to the cabinet behind her.

She gets to work, struggling for a moment to find everything but manages to do so. She adds the alcohol and juices together, unmixed, along with an orange slice and a cherry before sliding it across the bar to you.

You eye it carefully, trying to remember if you know the name but didn't quite catch everything she added.

Sevika doesn't stop there, instead picking up a wine glass and pouring white wine and creme de cassis.

You watch her, the scrunch in her brow as she focuses. A sheepish smile graces your lips, blush warm on your cheeks.

“You're making more than one drink,” you tease softly.

“Just.. trust the process, yeah?” She smirks at you and you can't ignore the flutter in your belly.

She's silent as she grabs another glass after sliding the second glass toward you.

“I avoided you because I was nervous,” she admits softly, averting her gaze as she pours two drinks together.

“Nervous? What for?” You murmur, leaning closer over the bar.

She hums softly, slicing another orange slice to slip into the glass,”You're young- real young, and I couldn't seem to look past that until now.”

You raise an eyebrow in question, ready to ask but she raises a palm, sliding the last glass to you.

She points to the first one she made,”Tequila sunrise,” then the second,”Kir,” then the last one,”Screwdriver.”

She completes her statement by sliding the book across the countertop towards you and your face heats up tremendously.

“I- what-” you carefully grab the book, eyeing her in disbelief.

“Read the first one,” she urges softly.

You nod, flipping to that part of the book.

Under ‘Mutual Feelings’.

Tequila Sunrise- ‘Passionate love.’

Upon reading it, your head shoots up. She is wordless as she points to the second.

Kir- ‘I'm glad we met.’

And you've already memorized the last one- having given her so many of those along with the others.

You're quiet for a moment before pointing to the last orange drink,”You've stolen my heart.”

She just gazes at you, soft and tender and it fills you with warmth.

You grasp the glass, taking a sip of it, following up with the other two before placing them down and standing.

You're wordless as you hike yourself up on the countertop to swing your legs over before gripping Sevika by the collar of her vest and tugging her in to press your lips to hers.

You separate after the blissful moment.

She tastes the fruity drinks on your lips and can't get enough, quickly pressing her lips back on yours again.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

A/N: gonna order me some apricot fizz now

[secretsandwriting]

Besties, batmom is apparently my favorite thing to write because I somehow managed to turn a drabble into 6k words???? Its 1k more then earned position idk how I did this??? Anyways, have this and enjoy.

I'm also trying to get more comfortable writing for Duke so bear with me as I figure out how I want to write his character.

Too Perfect

Not beta read

6.3k words

You smiled as you watched the Wayne kids mess around together in the corner of the gala. They looked like they were having a lot of fun together, it was heartwarming how close they looked. The way Jason had his arm thrown around Tim has they laughed at Dick teasing Damian by holding something he wanted just out of reach. Cassandra watched from her spot in Tim’s shadow. Signing away when something came to mind. Jason and Tim would translate for the other two so she was still heard while they were distracted.

Damian ended up kicking Dick’s ankle so he could finally grab what turned out to be his phone. Jason seemed to think it was hysterical and a good method while Tim sided with Dick claiming physical violence was not the answer. Cass just seemed to be trying to make everything worse, smiling when she said something that got them arguing harder. 

“Rowdy bunch no matter what I do.” Bruce suddenly appeared next to you, his tone fond as he smiled at his kids antics. “Are they bothering you?” You looked away from the kids to their father. 

“Not at all. I’m happy to see them able to act like kids in high society. Most lose the chance and ability to be anything other then perfect young.” Bruce hummed, about to say something when your watch beeped. “That’s my cue to leave. I have a long day of ahead of me tomorrow.”

“It is quite late. Thank you for coming, I hope you had a good time.” He gave you his famous smiled, the one that had most girls swooning. 

“I did! It was quite a lovely night. Thank you for the invite!” You returned his smile before heading out the door and too your car.

A few weeks later you found yourself at your favorite cafe. Stepping carefully, you tried to avoid the ice on your way in. The recent snow storm happening almost immediately after rain had made the roads and sidewalks horrible. The plows and salt helped but it was still a disaster. 

Opening the door, the warm air enveloped you. The scent of coffee and baked goods heavy in the air, producing a comforting feeling and making you forget about the snow and ice outside for a minute. The line wasn’t long but you had left early enough it wouldn’t have mattered if it was out the door. 

Your usual was punched in the second you got up to the register, the barista just chatting with you instead of asking. A testament to how often you came. Moving away after you were done paying so the person behind you could order, you hummed along to the song playing over the radio. You checked your phone for any texts about work for the day and ran through your mental checklist to make sure you were ready for the day. 

Your checklist was interrupted by your name as your coffee was set on the counter. Grabbing it you took a sip and sighed. It was too early for all of this. Heading out the door, you tried to be just as careful as you were going in. Tried being the keyword. You slipped on the ice, there was no way you could stop from falling so you just braced for impact. 

It never came, instead you found yourself leaning against someone. They helped you back up, hand gentle on your back as they made sure you were standing without risk of falling again. 

“You ok?” Turning around to thank them, you were met with Bruce Wayne. Concern swimming in his eyes. Your coffee was in his other hand, he must of noticed your glance at it because he handed it back to you. “I figured you wouldn’t want to have to go back for another one.”

“Yes, thank you for catching both me and my coffee!” He smiled as he stepped back. 

“It was no trouble!” He gave you another smile before turning around and heading into the coffee shop, you didn’t notice the steaming coffee on the ground near you as you turned and headed back to your car. Thinking about how it was odd you had seen him twice in a couple weeks.

Browsing the books in the little shop, you let out a sigh when you realized they didn’t have the book you wanted. That's what you get for slacking and waiting a month after getting the notification they had it in stock. Deciding to do the best thing and leave before you end up with a stack of books you don’t need, you headed for the door. Promising yourself you would come earlier next time. 

You were interrupted from your thoughts by Bruce Wayne looking completely lost. He kept glancing down at a paper in his hand and back up at the shelf. Eyebrows furrowed as he tried to find something. He had helped you at the cafe so maybe you could repay the favor. 

“What are you looking for?” He whipped around like you had just jumped out and screamed at him. You stifled a laugh but your smile still slipped through. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly a little embarrassed before squaring his shoulders and looking down at his list. 

“I didn’t know you worked here… Jason asked me to pick up these books for him.” He handed you the list. You scanned through the titles, all classics. He was in the fiction on the opposite side of the store from the classics.

“I don’t, I just shop here way too much. These would be over here.” He snorted as he followed you through the store. You listened to him as he talked about his kids. Laughing at the mischief they caused and smiling at the clearly fond tone as he told you about the random little things they had done. You had alway wanted kids but every time you tried, something happened. EIther breakups or problems getting pregnant. So you found yourself living through Bruce’s stories. Imaging having your own kids who pulled similar stunts or the things they would do. Once all of the books were picked out and paid for, you prepared to split ways.

“Would you like to go to dinner sometime?” Bruce asked. You stopped and stared at him, his cheeks turning a light pink under your gaze. You reached into your bag to pull out a pen and paper, jotting down your number and handing it to him. 

“I would love to!”

Dinner was at your favorite restaurant, so you knew the food was good. The conversation was a little awkward but it wasn’t long until you were easily conversing. Talking about everything from work, his kids latest adventures, to politics. 

He was a perfect gentleman the entire night. Opening all the doors, pulling out your chair for you, kind to all the staff, understanding of any mistakes that had happened and still tipped them well. The butterflies in your stomach had fed on that to become stronger and make you feel more sick then nervous at times. 

After dinner, you went for a walk in a park nearby. The night chill was kept away by the laughter between you too as you shared ridiculous stories. When you decided it was late and you needed to leave, Bruce walked you to your car and waited until you left to leave.

“Did you walk her to her car when you left?” Jason was the first at the door to question him. Sometimes Bruce really wondered if Jason was actually going to do his whole revenge plan with how he acts with the family now. At the end of the night he was just glad Jason was alive and around to question his every move. 

“Of course I did. Who do you think I am?” Jason paused like he was searching for something to insult Bruce with as his response but Tim slid into the room and immediately started questioning him. 

“Did you open the doors for her?” Bruce signed. He really should try to hide more of his dating life from them. 

“I opened the doors and pulled her chair out for her. And,” He turned and looked at Damian who had just run into the room. “I asked about her day and listened.” Damian nodded like he was proud of Bruce. He just shook his head at his boys. 

“But did you extend the date to go a litt-” 

“We went on a walk after dinner.” Dick huffed at being interrupted but he was pleased with the answer. Bruce turned his attention to Cass so he wouldn’t miss her question. 

“Yes, I did tell her she looked pretty tonight.” Cass grinned and nodded. 

You smiled at your phone as you read the text from Bruce followed with a short video of Damian ranting about not being allowed to pet the tigers. You had been texting with him daily between work and whatever else you had to do ever since the date. There had been regular phone calls and now regular facetimes every night as well as your 5th date happening Saturday night. 

Bruce had been nothing but a gentleman the entire relationship. Something you weren’t fully used to yet. There was nothing you would change. Communication was great, boundaries were being respected, there was no pressure, and there were no lies. It was almost too perfect.

Bruce wanted to introduce you to the kids and they all wanted to meet you. According to Bruce, despite never meeting you, they all claimed they would go with you if there was a breakup. You had just laughed it off when he told you. Figuring it was just something they were joking about as a way to tease their father. 

“They’ll love you!” Bruce reassured you as you walked up to the manor door. “They were all excited to find out you were coming tonight. Dick and Jason made sure they had the night off so they could come.” You really wanted him to stop talking. He was only making this worse. 

The door opened and the first thing you heard was yelling. Bruce just sighed next to you. Alfred took your coat after introducing himself, informing you it would be another half hour before dinner would be done and then leaving to go work on it.

As you followed Bruce in, the yelling got louder. You were headed towards the boys, the volume of their yelling made it obvious when you were almost there. You made it in time to see Jason holding Tim up by the collar as Damian cheered and Dick tried to get Jason to let go of Tim. Tim was interrupting Dick’s attempts to keep arguing with Jason, making his chances to get put down lower. Cass was just sitting on the couch watching everything go down, when she spotted you, she came over and offered to give you a tour of the manor. You of course accepted and left with Cass while Bruce stayed to deal with the boys.

You took the time to get to know a little about Cass, carefully paying attention when she talked slow and quietly. While you weren’t the most fluent with sign language you could normally make out what she was saying, at least a little bit. Along the way, Duke joined you, adding in jokes here and there and helping to translate for Cass when you struggled to understand what she was saying. 

The tour ended in the dining room where the others waited. You felt a little better about it when Cass and Duke insisted you sit with them. It made you feel like you could do this and like it wouldn’t go too badly. After all, two of them liked you now… At least they seemed too. 

Steph joined shortly after you were seated, apologizing about being late and rambling about a project she was working on. With that, Dinner was started. Along with the absolutely amazing food, you got to learn more about the kids Bruce had collected. 

Dick was a police officer in Bludhaven, he had moved after a fight with Bruce that had been resolved but decided he liked it there and the freedom that came with it and stayed. He had adjusted to living on his own relatively smoothly and loved it when his siblings dropped by. He was offered a promotion recently but he wasn’t sure if he wanted it. He was also very glad Bruce was in a serious relationship because maybe he would back off on his parenting. 

Jason loved books, especially the classics. He was the most obviously dramatic of them all and loved to play things up. He had gotten kidnapped and went no contact with Bruce when he came back. He had made up with Bruce recently but it was still a little rocky sometimes. His apartment gets regularly broken into by his siblings and he claimed to hate it but the look in his eyes told you he really didn’t mind it and truly liked that they felt safe coming to him. 

Tim was the CEO of W.E, something he took great pride in. He also likes mysteries so he looks into police cases and tried to solve them before the police. He likes working with computers and figuring out bugs in programs, something he likes to do with Barbara. He really likes coffee, drinks more then he should but won’t stop. He doesn’t have a spleen anymore and somehow he managed to keep that a secret from the family until recently. And while he violently denied it, go as far to punch Dick when he suggested it, Tim was extremely protective of his family.

Damian loves animals, going as far to become vegetarian after saving a cow from a slaughter house. He collects pets and despite the large amount he had, he still took perfect care of them. His favorite subject in school is history but his favorite class is art. He likes painting and according to everyone he’s absolutely amazing at it. He lived with his mom until he was 10 when she sent him to live with his dad. He knew Jason first because Jason had joined his family after he had been kidnapped. While Damian claimed he disliked his brothers, it was very obvious he truly cared about them and loved them deeply. 

Duke had recently moved into the manor and was still getting used to having enough money to spend on things other than necessities. He had started helping Tim figure out what charities to donate to the most and regularly worked with Jason on helping kids on the streets. He was part of the We Are Robin movement, something he spoke about with great pride as well as pain. He liked collecting cards for a game and was very excited when you asked to see his collection. He had also been arrested, something you couldn’t picture about the sweet boy next to you. 

Steph was also vegetarian and she loves bubble tea and other fruity drinks. She regularly works with Human Rights Activists and wants to help as many people as possible. She loves going out for girls days and forcing her brothers into facemasks and other similar things. She’s big on quality time, one of the ones who drops by Dick’s and Jason’s apartments the most. She likes podcasts, apparently its all she listens to and she gives good recommendations. She also loves watching darmas for the sole purpose of laughing at the stupid plot points. 

Cass loves ballet, she finds it fun and relaxing. Due to a bad childhood she struggles with talking and understanding words but she’s been working on it. She really likes sign language and was very happy when the rest of the family touched up their skills or learned it to make communicating easier for her. She’s also big on quality time, the other one who drops in the most. She just likes to sit quietly with other people while doing their each doing their own thing. She really likes chocolate ice cream and knows the best brands. She likes to randomly scare her siblings, she thinks its funny when they jump and scream. 

The entire dinner, as you talked and listened to the kids, Bruce just grinned from his spot. Happy to have his kids and girlfriend all together and wishing the peace would last forever. After dinner, you moved to the living room where the talking continued until late in the night. 

After the dinner, you spent more time at the manor and with the kids. Cass invited you to her ballet recitals and sometimes asked for a ride when Bruce and Jason were busy. Steph invited you to go out with her, drinks and window shopping became a biweekly thing. Damian would invite you to help with his animals, he would tell you things he knew about them as you worked. He would also requests rides from school when needed. Duke would tell you about the new cards he had gotten and their stats and would invite you to go hunting for rare ones with him. Jason started a book club with you, you would meet once a week to discuss what you had read and whatever else was on his mind. Tim would get your opinion on cases he was trying to solve, you would get coffee and try to solve the case. Dickwould invite you to join him for gossip, you would trade gossip about the cities and whatever else you knew. 

Overall, you got along well with the kids. Something you were happy about and something that made Bruce fall in love with you more and more the more he saw you interact with them or when they would talk about everything they had done with you. His kids were his life, and to have you come in and love and care for them like they were your own meant more then he could ever hope to put into words. 

Your relationship with Bruce was perfect. He was a gentleman who always treated you right an made sure you were well taken care of, His kids liked you and you absolutely adored them. He was the best partner you had ever had and your relationship was healthier then you had even thought possible. It was absolutely perfect.

Too perfect. Something wasn’t lining up. The injuries, the slow texts at night when you knew he had nothing planned and the kids were busy, the secret basement. Something was going on. Sp you did the only thing you could think of. You documented everything. 

Every mystery scratch, bruise, broken bone, it was all written down. After a week you noticed a pattern. Everytime Batman got into a bad fight and was injured, Bruce had the same injury the very next day. Bruce Wayne couldn’t be Batman, it had to be a coincidence so you kept documenting. Hoping to get a different answer. 

2 weeks in, your questions started multiplying. Steph had broken her leg right about the time spoiler was thrown off a roof by the villain of the week and had to be carried away by Red Hood. That couldn’t be right.

Week 3 had Damain getting mugged and stabbed the same night Robin was stabbed by a henchman after being overwhelmed. 

Week 4 Jason was shot when helping a kid in an alley the same night Red Hood was shot busting a human trafficking ring. 

Week 5 Cass broke her arm falling down the stairs the day after Black Bat broke hers in combat. 

Week 6 Tim ran into a wall and got a concussion the day after Red Robin was thrown into a wall and was carried away by Nightwing yelling about a concussion. 

Week 7 Dick was shot off duty by someone wanting revenge the same night Nightwing was shot busting a robbery. 

By week 8 you couldn’t deny it. Something is going on and you wanted an explanation. So you set a time to meet with Bruce at the manor using the dreaded “We need to talk.” You met at the manor when all the kids were out and busy so it was just the two of you. Bruce was clearly nervous and unsure of what exactly you wanted to talk about. 

You just handed him all your notes and waited. You watched as he read and all the nervousness practically melted off him and was replaced by an unreadable calm. A sinking feeling filled your stomach as you hoped he would tell you the truth and not lie like everyone else who had switched up like that. Bruce read silently, reading every line carefully before moving onto the next one. 

Hes coming up with excuses. 

Your mind supplied. You tried to push the thought away. Bruce hadn’t lied about anything so far in your relationship. He had just hidden something and he hid it because it was dangerous. Yeah, it was too dangerous to just tell people right away but you had been dating for 6 months so he could trust you with it now. He was going to tell you soon or he just didn’t know how to bring it u-

“I’m not sure why you think I could be Batman? Me?” Oh.

“Bruce, it’s too many coinc-”

“Y/n, I’m not batman and the kids are vigilantes either. Yes it’s definitely weird it lines up so well but it doesn’t mean anything.” He was lying, you could see the spark of panic in his eyes as he tried to convince you that it wasn’t real. It told you everything you needed to know. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you spoke. 

“You’re right. It is a bit weird, but I believe you. I’m glad I could get some confirmation.” Bruce smiled at you, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “I have a meeting I need to get to, I’ll see you later.” You kissed him goodbye and went straight home, blocking his number from the comfort of your bed. You weren’t going to date another liar. 

The next morning, you accepted the out of country transfer your job had offered you. You packed up and left within a week. You had gotten a few texts from the kids asking how you were and you made sure to respond to them. They seemed to understand you needed space and didn’t text you much after that first week. You were thankful they understood and appreciated that they never mentioned their father to you. 

Your first week in your new home you had gotten sick. Nothing seemed to help so you went into the doctor. Turns out you and Bruce hadn’t been as careful as you thought you had been. The positive pregnancy test, a testament to how nothing seemed to go as planned the past month. 

Thankfully your job and doctor helped you find resources to help you get along as a soon to be single mother in a foreign country. With all the help you had been provided, it would hopefully go as smooth as possible given the circumstances. 

Eleven months later, you found yourself back in Gotham. Nothing seemed to change while you were gone, the city was the same dreary city with extremely high crime rates but you had missed it. As horrible as it was, Gotham was home. 

A friend had helped you move your things into your new apartment, the nursery had taken priority so Penelope would hopefully be able to sleep through most of the rest of the moving. Wishful thinking, Penny had been nothing but a handful. Her favorite activity seemed to be wailing as loud as her little lungs would allow her whenever you were trying to get any sort of semblance of rest. Sometimes, you wondered if you hadn’t connected the dots, if Bruce being around would help with the stress. If it would have made your pregnancy smoother and now if you would be able to sleep a little more. 

Penelope had just settled down for a nap when there was a knock on your door. You sighed as your plans for a nap were ruined by whoever was knocking, half tempted to just ignore them. Another knock, this time louder. They would wake Penny if you didn’t answer the door so you went to see who needed you so desperately. A redhead girl in a wheelchair smiled at you as you opened the door. Barbara your mind supplied. 

“Sorry to drop by so suddenly but I wanted to talk to you about Bruce and Penelope.” You sighed again, you knew this would come and that you would have to talk about it. You stepped aside and let Barbara in, closing the door behind her. 

“Penny just went down for a nap so we need to be quiet. Can I get you something to drink?” Barbara got settled at the table, looking around quietly while you got her drink. She took a sip of it while you sat down across from her, setting the glass on the table and turning her attention to you. 

“Are you going to tell Bruce about Penelope?” Straight to the point.

“Eventually.”

“Would you consider dating Bruce again if he apologized and told you the truth first this time?”

“It depends on what the truth is and how good his apology is.” She nodded, thinking for a second.

“Bruce doesn’t know you’re back yet. I’ve managed to keep it from him and Tim. Just like I did with all your google searches about their injuries. I was hoping he’d tell you the truth then but he’s so stubborn. I’m going to tell them tomorrow that you're back, I just wanted to get your thoughts about it before I did so I could hopefully curb anything that was unwanted.” From there you talked about random things, getting to know her and catching up on everything that had happened in Gotham while you were gone. The conversation was interrupted by Penny’s crying. Barbara left, claiming Bruce should be the first to meet Penny. 

“I won’t mention Penny. I’ll leave that for you to do when you're ready.” She offered you a smile before wheeling herself out of your apartment. As you fed Penny, you thought about your conversation with Barbara. Bruce was unblocked later that night. 

Your phone lit up with Bruce’s name the next night. He asked to meet and talk in a park that was always empty. He promised he would tell you the truth and apologized for lying before. You agreed.

You caught up with him for a little bit before Bruce mentioned your conversation before you left. He admitted you were right and he had just panicked. He apologized for lying again and told you that he should have never brushed you off like he had, even if it had been fake. 

He told you about how it all started, how he got Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, and Damian. How he had found Steph and Duke. About what happened with Barbara. He told you about his missions, the justice league, his paranoia, and trust issues. You listened to him silently for hours. 

Hours later, once he had gone over everything. You agreed to try again.

After your second first date with Bruce, the kids started reaching out to you again. You had forgotten how much you enjoyed their presence in your life. You didn’t spend as much time with them as you had used to due to needing to take care of Penny and the price of sitters being too expensive. 

You had decided to tell Bruce about Penny on your fourth date. You would tell him at dinner and invite him over to meet her. Unfortunately your sitter canceled last minute right before your third date. You considered canceling but you needed to tell Bruce and there was a high chance you would chicken out later on. 

So you wrestled Penny into a cute outfit and into the dreaded car seat, the one she screamed at like it was going to eat her when you put her in. She thankfully fell asleep in the car, making it easier for you to go in faster. You were already late as it was. 

Bruce saw you walk in and was about to stand up to greet you when he saw the carseat and froze. You took a deep breath and went over to the table, gently setting her down while you took your own seat. Bruce looked over to you, questions clearly written all over his face. 

“She’s yours. I found out a week after I moved. She’ll be 4 months old in a week. You can hold her when she wakes up if you want.” “What’s her name?”

“Penelope Avery Wayne.” He sucked in a breath, trying to hold his tears back. Penny slept through the whole meal, giving you time to talk. Bruce asked all about her and how your pregnancy went. 

He followed you back to your apartment and just watched Penny sleep as you talked on the couch. When she woke up and started wailing when she realized she was still in the horrid carseat, you gently pulled her out and handed her to Bruce. 

She quieted down when given her freedom from the seat, her big blue eyes meeting Bruce’s own. She smiled up at him as she shoved her fist in her mouth, inspecting him from her spot in his arms. Bruce cooed over her as he wiped the tears from his eyes as he held his little girl for the first time. 

The second his other kids found out about Penny, there was a group outside your door begging to see her and offer their babysitting services. Every single one of them adored her and wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Penny soaked up the attention like a little sponge.

Cass and Duke were her favorites but she still loved all the others. Bruce was over whenever he could be to help, taking a very active roll in Penny’s care. You barely lifted a finger, only having to feed her when Bruce was around. 

You eventually agreed to move into the manor with Bruce. All the kids were ecstatic. It would make seeing you and Penny easier for them. Bruce and Tim convinced you to quit your job, Tim promised you work at W.E if you were set on working and all the others offered to bring you along when they went to help out at their favorite charities and organizations. 

Bruce made sure he was open and honest about everything, including his Batman adventures. The kids all came to you when he pissed them off or made a call that they didn’t like or they thought was unfair. Things were looking up and you hoped they stayed that way. 

They stayed up, in fact they went higher than you thought it could. They went higher and higher and Tim was the one who started it. 

“Hey mom, do you know where my black dress shoes are? I have a meeting I need them for.” You just stared at him, trying not to cry. Tim looked up, trying to figure out why you weren’t answering him and then why you looked like you were about to cry. You knew the second he figured it out, his face going bright red.

“I’m sorry! It just slipped! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable ot anything! I’l-” You cut him off.

“It’s ok Tim! You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I was just surprised. You’re more than welcome to call me mom if that’s what you want. You’re shoes are in the coat closet to the left.” He nodded and went to grab them. 

“Thanks mom!” He called out as he stepped out the door to head to work. You couldn’t hold the tears back once the door was shut and again when you told Bruce that night. He just smiled as he held you while you cried, happy to know his family was doing well together. 

Dick did it next. He had come over to celebrate finishing a tough case as Nightwing. He brushed past Bruce and came straight to you. Wrapping you into a hug, you hugged him back and waited until he pulled away to let go. Bruce let out a teasing scoff, clearly not upset but pretending to be. Dick pulled away to look at Bruce.

“I came for Alfred’s food and to get praise for my good job from Mom.” He stuck his tongue out at Bruce before coming back in for another hug. You held him tight, tears welling up in your eyes again. “Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” He inspected you closely before breaking out in a grin. “Is is because I called you mom? Aww!” He hugged you again. “You shouldn’t be crying because I called you mom, you should be crying because it means you can never leave us. You’re stuck here with us forever.”

“That’s a good thing. I love all of you so much I could never leave you guys.” Dick hugged you tighter. You didn’t mention his teary eyes when he pulled away. 

Cass started calling you mom shortly after. She used it when she signed for you. It took everything not to cry at her performance when she used it for the first time. Once she started, she refused to call you anything else. You were mom and everyone knew exactly who she was referring to when she did it with the others. 

Duke jokingly started calling you “Mom 2”. He had apologized later on if it offended you. He still had his mom and while she wasn’t all there anymore she was still his mom and that title belonged to her. You had held him as you both cried, reassuring him that it didn’t bother you and you had no problems with it or with him just calling you by your name. Promising him that you would never be offended over something like this and he shouldn’t feel pressured to call you anything other than your name if he didn’t want to. 

Damian was next, you knew his mom was still alive and that he cared for her greatly even though their relationship was a bit rough. So you expected him to just call you by your name, it never bothered you and was something you just never thought about. It was up to him to decide what he was comfortable calling you. 

“Ummi, can we take Penny to the Zoo next week? I want to show her the baby lion the was just born.” Damian had run into the kitchen to ask, interrupting your breakfast with Bruce but you couldn’t find it in you to care. 

“Of course, we can go after you get out of school on tuesday.” Damian cheered and went to tell Penny the news. The 8 month old having no clue what was going on but feeding off of Damian’s excitement. 

“Y/n,” you turned to look at Bruce.  “Ummi means mother in arabic.” You stared at him like he grew another head. “Damian just called you mother.” Bruce pulled you into a hug as you realized another one of his kids viewed you as safe enough to be their mother. Bruce gently rocked you in the kitchen as you tried not to cry again.

Jason’s happened next, you would have been more excited if you hadn’t been so terrified. You had gotten nervous with all of them out on patrols so Bruce had given you a com so you could listen and know that they were ok. Unfortunately it also let you hear everything going wrong. 

You nudged past Bruce to get to Jason. He was laying on a bed, freshly patched up after a really bad mission. He had been stabbed 3 times and shot 6 more times. He was out cold but Alfred assured you he would be ok if he took the time needed to heal. You didn’t leave his bedside for 3 days while he slept. Worried that the second you stepped away something bad would happen to him. 

“Mom?” You jerked out of your thoughts and looked to Jason. He was barely awake and looked scared. He looked every bit of the little boy he had lost in the explosion and it broke your heart and made you glad Bruce had stepped out to put Penny to bed so he didn’t have to see it. 

“I’m here. What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” He whispered a yes so you called Alfred to up the pain meds, staying with him until he was fully lucid and kicked you out to get some rest. 

Jason stayed in the manor for a few weeks and let you, Bruce, and Alfred nurse him to help. Alfred pulled you aside and asked that in the future if any of them get hurt badly again, that you weaponize the look of horror and sadness you had when Jason tried to leave early that made him stay longer. You agreed to try, especially if it would make the chances of them healing better higher. 

Bruce proposed shortly after, of course you said yes and the wedding planning began. A year later you were officially married. In that one day, you got a Husband and 7 kids, making for a total of 8 children. Well 9 if you counted the baby from the test you had taken the night before the wedding. 

“Say Y/n’s Pregnant!” The photographer yelled as she started snapping pictures, perfectly capturing the moment your family processed what she had said. 

Things were good. You were happy with your family and you knew that even through the hard parts, you would be ok. 

[mossangelll]

please please please! is there a part 2 of "bath time" of yandere!jinx? that was so good, like, real good... i felt butterflies in my stomach. i hope you consider writing a second part because i feel like i'm going insane. i need her so much:(

thank you for your service! your writing is so good. i hope your pillow is cold in both ways♡

"please, don't stop writing about her..." i beg as i kneel weakly in front of you.

so you’re the reason my pillow has been nice and cold recently…ty 😌

a/n: so fun to write! this jinx is very delusional and doesn’t even know what the word ‘boundary’ means lmao but i was also a bit stressed writing this bcs i never planned for there to be a sequel but there was a lot of interest. idk if they want to be tagged but ty to the person in my dms who inspired me to write pt2! what i’m trying to say is idk if it’ll live up to expectations but i hope you like!! also, i won’t stop writing for jinx or arcane for a while ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

bed time 🛏️💤 - sequel to bath time

cw: yandere behaviour, unhealthy relationship, drugging, dubcon, noncon, nsfw - mdni 18+ only

Something was wrong with Jinx, you didn’t know what exactly but you could tell the moment she guided you to your seat in the makeshift dining room room, hands jittery and pink eyes darting everywhere but your face.

She bit her chapped lips as she watched each forkful you took of the dinner she painstakingly prepared, perfectly in time with every one of your own hesitant bites. You tried your best to hide your discomfort but god! She didn’t even try and pretend to eat her own food - so much so that her fork was scraping against the plate, making you wince with each screech of metal hitting ceramic.

The silence, offset by the incessant skrr of her scraping, was unnerving; usually, you had a hard time keeping track of all the topics she hurled at you at the dinner table, about an outside world you were long since disconnected from. Honestly, it felt like she did it on purpose, to get a rise out of you so she finally had a valid excuse to punish you, not like she needed one. You were experienced in how “hands on” she could be when putting you in your place and you shuddered at the thought.

You were just about to take your last bite, or maybe ask her about her day to clear the air - you didn’t know, your head was starting to fill with static and your fork wavered between the plate and your mouth before she beat you to the punch.

She sprang up from her chair with so much fervour it fell at her feet as she skipped over to where you were sat to wrap her arms around your shoulders and nuzzle into your neck.

What was up with her? Your fork was still hovering in mid-air and you raised an eyebrow, one she thankfully couldn’t see, at her antics. Sure, Jinx was…eccentric to say the least but this? This was strange even for someone like her.

“How ya feeling toots? M’hoping you liked dinner, put a looooot of effort into it, y’know. Just for you.”

Her muffled voice sounded sickeningly sweet and airy against the delicate skin of your neck causing you to bristle at the feeling. The arms around you tightened and her breathing sharpened; if you were anyone else, you wouldn’t have seen through her almost imperceptible tells but she’s had you for a while and being able reading Jinx like a book comes with the unwanted territory.

You forced yourself to relax and scoop the now cold food into your mouth as you audibly hummed your satisfaction to appease her ever-changing moods. There. This should calm her down.

“I’m good, thanks Jinx. The food is so delici-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence as your hold on the cutlery suddenly weakened. You couldn’t even react as you watched, or rather heard seeing as your vision was fading in and out with each passing moment, your fork clatter to the ground. The noise was dulled down by whatever was wrong with you.

Your head was all stuffed up, like it was crammed to the brim with dozens of fluffy cotton balls. You tried to shake the feeling away but instead came down with a horrific case of vertigo that left your brain reeling and your eyes clenched shut. The corrugated sheet walls, covered in Jinx’s colourful, tell-tale graffiti and copious doodles of the two of you, seemed to close in on you as your world quickly began to spin. A shaky hand darted out to grip Jinx’s forearm in search of some form of stability, uncaring of who exactly you had to rely on in order to achieve it.

Jinx finally straightened up, still keeping you in her tight grasp, and one of her hands slipped to touch your forehead, tutting at what she found.

“You’re burning up toots, gotta get you to lie down.”

Hot. So fucking hot.

You hadn’t even realised until she’d pointed it out but she was right. Too preoccupied in the midst of your delirium to notice you felt so incredibly hot and the sensation had spread from the top of your head to each of your extremities; not a single inch of your body was spared from the onslaught of pure heat setting you ablaze from the inside out.

Jinx scooped up your limp body in her arms, she was more athletic than she seemed from years of carrying heavy explosives but it never failed to surprise you, and carried you over to the bed you shared. The fairy lights strung across the small room were so blurry they melted into a mess of light and the polaroid pictures she took of you, back before you knew of her existence and she was just a stalker, made you feel as though you were in some awful, twisted nightmare.

Perhaps you were coming down with a sudden fever and you would have to lie there and let her care for you, although begrudgingly. You expected her to run off in search of medicine, this was concerning even to you and she had freaked out over much less, but instead she lay down next to you, her hands going from caressing your hot face to exploring the dips and curves of your body.

Her hand was cool as it came down to rest on your thigh, seemingly penetrating through the layers you had put on and somehow branding your still-flaming skin. The hand not on your thigh inspected your face, prodding here and there and opening your drooping eyelids to inspect something.

The look of pure panic and anxiety you expected to be on her face was confusingly absent, replaced with an oddly lustful expression. Her cheeks were ruddy, her lips parted and shiny from where she kept wetting them with her tongue and her eyes…her eyes startled you. Jinx’s pupils were blown out and only a slight ring of pink was visible, your heart began to race as you realised something very bad and completely out of your control was unfolding.

“Huh,” your captor huffed out, face dangerously close to yours, “He sure did up the dosage…maybe a little too much…” Jinx’s voice trailed off but you could just about make out what she muttered under her breath. You found that you didn’t care enough to figure out what exactly she meant, the delirious state you were in decided that for you.

“Angel, you really don’t understand what you do to me, do ya?” her voice came out powder- soft like the snow you used to jump in and make snow angels in when you were younger. But you didn’t know if she was whispering or if your hearing really was that messed up.

Her blue flyaways tickled the side of your face as she bent down to give a tentative kiss to your neck. Then, she peeled off each layer of clothing stuck to your body with such an ease that it made you question if she’s done this to you before.

“J-Jinx? What’re you doing?” Your voice came out slurred and no matter how badly you wanted to push her away and run, your body simply refused to listen to the devastated wails of your brain. Right now, all you wanted was to reject her smothering hold but you lacked the energy to actually do anything substantial, even clenching your fist seemed to drain you even further.

She dismissed your worried question with a less than pleased shhh and placed several more gentle pecks down the column of your throat and as much as it pained you to admit, it felt good. More than good actually - it was orgasmic. Each touch of her lips she gave you seemed to douse the raging flames for a moment before reigniting them, causing them to burn brighter than they did before and you couldn’t help but keen and writhe at the utter torture you were going through.

She perked up at the strangled noise that forced its way out of you, eyes narrowing in mischief and her lips curling up into a cruel smile.

“I knew you’d like that!” You decided then and there you hated how decisive she sounded, as if she had your body and soul mapped out on the palm of her hand, as if she knew you better than you knew yourself. Her lips then kissed a trail from your neck to your navel, stopping to nibble and lick at the ticklish skin there and giggling at your minute squirms, “It got me thinking, toots, after our bath time - what else can little ol’ me get away with?” She whispered the last part against your soft skin, voice lost to your flesh and mind.

Before you can start to decode what exactly she meant, she gives your stomach a final kiss before yanking down the final layer separating you from what she do badly yearned for. And maybe what you now yearned for too.

You can barely hold your head up to watch her movements, instead settling for tilting your head to the side but even that had you feeling like a shimmer-sick addict.

“P-please…” your weak voice warbled out and clearly Jinx had taken pity on you. Fuck, you didn’t even know what you were begging for but you knew that you couldn’t go on like this for any longer.

She nodded sympathetically, eyes wide and blown out as she reached out to cradle your heavy head, proving that she didn’t really feel bad for you; that you knew even in this addled state of yours. Her lips met yours and her tongue darted out to bite at your bottom lip, her way of asking for entry. Her tongue in your mouth placated the almost painful arousal you felt, with Jinx fighting for dominance when you weren’t even putting up a fight, happy enough to sit there and take whatever she gives you.

Your vision was hazy but you could see and feel the string of saliva connecting you both - hell, Jinx looked just as fucked up as you felt. The impish Jinx you were accustomed to was gone and all that was left in her wake was a woman who would stop at nothing to keep you with her.

Your arms felt like lead and you couldn’t even reach out to smooth your sweaty hand against your captor’s arm. You just wanted assurance this was real, that you weren’t dreaming this up, that she would help you get better no matter what it cost you.

“It’s a shame you’re like this, would’ve been nice to feel your hands on me.” She lamented with a pout but she was quick to dismiss the thought as she looked down at your body, all pretty and sweet and worked up just for her. The wetness between your thighs seemed to shimmer at her, as if it was proof that all her patience was finally manifesting in her dream come true. She wiggled out of her tight pants and top, she didn’t want to waste what you lovingly presented to her on a silver platter, and made more of a show of slipping out of her underwear before getting to business.

Her lithe form oh so slowly slithered down the mattress until she was directly facing you soaking wet pussy. You didn’t have the time nor faculty to close your legs from her invasive gaze before she dove in head-first, slurping at the liquid ambrosia dripping from you.

You let out a shocked gasp, the only thing you can manage despite needing to let out a guttural, full body moan, not expecting her to do anything so soon. She continued in that manner, licking long stripes up your cunt and swirling her tongue around your clit until you were nothing but a useless puddle beneath her.

You felt your vision waver and everything faded to black as the static in your mind only grew stronger - and that’s when your orgasm hit you like a freight train. And yet, the fiery longing within you only stopped for a mere second before returning in its full glory, making you more desperate than you were before and you still had no idea what caused this.

The feeling was too much and you passed out as Jinx was still eating you out but when you came to she was now fingering you, wrist tense and three fingers pistoning in and out of you with rapid determination.

Out again.

Back again; she had one of your nipples in her mouth, rolling it against her tongue, as he caressed your sensitive clit, doing the same to herself.

Out again.

Back again; she was kissing the skin at your thighs and leaving bruising hickies that stained the upper half of your legs and although you knew you should be mad, protest, do anything, you just moaned in abject pleasure. She looked up from where she was stamping her ownership to see you staring and couldn’t help but slowly smile, before saying in her husky voice, “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll never think about leaving me ever again. Just stay awake long enough for it, y’hear?”

Out again.

You woke up again, unsure of how long it had been since you last passed out, and this time her scrawny arms were manoeuvring the dead weight of your body, guiding your hips to slot just underneath hers so she could take up all the work of visciously grinding against you. With each drag of her hip against yours, your clits bumped together and you groaned as loudly as your tired vocal cords could manage.

She leaned forwards, still grinding against you as the slick squelches echoed in the room, and grasped both of your tits in her hands. Her nails dug into the softness of your chest before fondling the crescent marks she left behind and twisting at your sore nipples, causing you to yelp and her to darkly chuckle.

You moaned once the pain ebbed away and found yourself mesmerised looking at Jinx’s face; the low light in the room cast deep shadows across her face and only seemed to accentuate the feral look in her eyes, the sensual way she bit her lip as she looked on at you - you needed more.

“Fuck, toots, don’t want this to ever end. You’re so good for me.” Jinx moaned out as one hand retreated in order to play with her own chest. Her head was flung back and you watched, entranced, when her long braids fell to the floor and at the same time, the pale expanse of her throat was exposed to you. How badly you wanted to sink your teeth in and bite.

It was odd to see Jinx so vulnerable in front of you and it only confused your addled mind further but instead you were made to focus on the carnal desires flowing through your veins and igniting your blood.

You didn’t know how it was possible to orgasm again after already having so many prior to this, but once again you felt that burning pressure build up inside of you like getting a jolt from an exposed live wire. It bubbled up in the tips of your toes and shot up your spine, your weak body overwhelmed by the rapture Jinx had caused within you. Clearly she wasn’t unaffected by your display as her own high pitched moans and grunts reached your eyes and the grinding of her hips sped up so you both could ride out your highs together, hand in hand.

You couldn’t stop the falling tears as the torment from the past few hours finally died down at last and you could close your eyes for the last time that night and rest.

Once Jinx’s own orgasm slowly faded away into residual jolts of pleasure and then nothingness, she disentangled her trembling legs from yours and spooned your sleeping body, covering up your naked bodies with the blanket all whilst panting out of exhaustion.

“Nighty night, sweets.” Jinx waited until your breathing finally started to equalise, not that it was really necessary; you were so drugged out you probably wouldn’t remember this tomorrow, never mind wake up.

Then, she turned away and fumbled around in the crate next to the bed she used for storage and located the vial, smooth and cool and safe in her hands. Sure, she was upset your first time the way she intended it to happen was stolen from her, she could blame Singed and his inability to do things in moderation, but still she could sleep at night knowing she got to share such a special moment with you.

masterlist

[noxxuniverse]

-🐭anon here !!!

Manifested a few things recently..

- my hair growing super long, everyone literally noticed it.. like obviously they did, it's so long now and simply cannot go unnoticed! I got so many compliments as well

- I revised my past poor grades, despite this having been my worst fear so far.. because I was really scared of failing school this year and not having enough time to revise them, but I did! I had a lot of bad grades before, today my teacher came to me and told me that she needed more grades from me, because she apparently only had one... and that was an A. (Before, I had like 3 F's in her class)

So she gave me some assignment, that I should hand in after, so I really turned my brain on, affirmed that this was easy and I understood it all, so I manifested that instantly too!! And I'm pretty sure I got a good grade now, because I was the first to finish and I had 30 minutes left to do whatever I wanted until class ended<3 (I usually like to work slow, but I guess I changed my assumption about that too.)

- I manifested always getting everything done on time, whenever I wake up for school, it's hard for me to get my hair done, eat breakfast etc.. while still having enough time to leave the house on time.

I changed that since a few days, I woke up 40 minutes later than usual, I still got everything done on time and it was great! I'm never late!!

Currently I'm manifesting that guy that I like, to like me back (he already does, but there has been some conflict) and I'm manifesting his age gap, his friendgroup to be.. less toxic, and much more

And I know that it'll be easy as always, because it's just easy like that😭😭?? And currently I enjoy doing long hours of saturating my mind, it helps so much and it's pretty fun to me, I also use a counter app, to count my affs and I do the 10k affs challenge daily

I'll just write a list of everything and keep repeating that I have everything off that list♡

HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY, HAPPY MANIFESTING YALL, ITS EASY<3333

WOO!! LETS GO!!

I'm actually so proud fr, one of my favourite anon deadass lmaoaoao

KEEP THE SUCCESS STORIES COMINGG!!

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Moot Appreciation Post

I wanna appreciate my moots a bit:

Please, please, please take a look at their work and give them some love!

I’m gonna start with @birinboom Em, my dear sweet potato moot. She’s a really kind moot and will hear you out and support you in your endeavors! She also writes really sweet fics and has a penchant for sweetheart and silly/mischievous type characters…dunno much about Hashbrowns (Hoshina Kn8) but he seems silly and mischievous to me. Very warm like a baked sweet potato! Also has a way of describing nature that puts you there. Em you already know my favorite, and it’s coming up again: she has the ability to nail the vibes of one universe but apply it to different characters.

@philistiniphagottini Nagi is so very kind. It’s the firm kind of kind, the one that encourages establishing and maintaining boundaries. Also writes really sweet pieces and for chubby readers to boot! Embodies multiple characters and matches their vibes with her narration too! I have come across some neat prose reading her work, I cannot remember them off the top of my head. Which is concerning given I meant to borrow that… Anywho Nagi is considerate! Be kind to Nagi please! She has definitely taught me a lot by being herself.

@feral-artistry : in my head you’re objectively hot. Like a Thai spicy mango salad, sweet with a kick and it’s fun! I don’t think I thought to apply traditional painting techniques to digital painting until I saw you do it. The way she hears you out and gives out solid advice and interesting pieces of information. Generally an educational experience talking with you and I would recommend it to others here. Also: pretty art. Oh and your sense of humor might just align with mine because you’re effortlessly funny in some posts I’ve seen. Also you kicked one of the things I had only ever hoped to experience off my bucket list when you made art of Ace after reading my headcanons of him. Pure joy.

@captainportgasdace an absolute sweetheart. Seriously: like 80-90% fluff and sweetness. Deeply loving (her dedication to her blorbo and her sweet characterization of him speaks volumes) has absolutely brought me brainworms and joy on the dash. Also a patient listener and just so kind? Like...imagine a whole stranger tells you about something completely unrelated to you and you just wish them well? Tell them they deserve good things? Like...lovely. Just lovely.

(Yes my mutuals are all very kind sweethearts)

@silentgravesdontexist a well-meaning sweetheart through and through. Kinda feral not gonna lie, and the spice adds a nice variety. No, not spice like spicy work, more like a bit of a warm kick-her energy? Very energetic, it’s refreshing! Also I don’t think I’m going to be forgetting Cy and the Cap having one of my all time favorite reblog convos under my fic. The dopamine high was real. Absolute sweetie pie and she's goes out of her way to be kind to you.

@throwmethroughawindow : I remember sharing something with her about my reading preferences and her responses surprised me in a really good way. No judgement, just a lot of respect and consideration. I appreciate that. Also loving, and enthusiastic about it. The fun person screaming in the tags (as I've seen and had the privilege of experiencing)

@true-deru : haven’t been mutuals long, but definitely a lot of fun! There’s a decent amount of alignment in fandoms we’re interested in and is generally a sunny presence on the dash! Haven’t gotten to reading her stuff yet, but when I dooooo. Also a lot of the YuGiOh posts throw me back to my childhood and it just brings me this sense of: yay! other people like YuGiOh too!

Thank you all for listening to my rambles, struggles, and for providing me advice and being patient with me when I don't respond promptly.

[tartagliove]

hi zebra!!! i hope you don’t mind me asking you a little question about you & tartaglia — i was wondering what drew you to him & what your fav traits of his are? do you have a particular dynamic in mind for you both? 🤭💗

i hope you’re having a wonderful sunday, make sure to keep warm !!!!

VANA HIIII!! it's always so good to see you hehe c: thank youuu, I'm having a lovely day and the sun was shining brightly despite the cold so it was very nice! I hope your Sunday (both the day and the character heh) has been wonderful too!!

oooh these are fun questions! okok so when the archon quest for Liyue came out, as soon as Tartaglia appeared with his "hey girlie, hold still!" I was all o.o and •///• so initially I liked him from the start because he's pretty, sounds nice, and he isn't the biggest Signora fan LAKSJDFAJKDSF (me too, ugh I detested her when she beat Venti up). also he just has really good dialogue and banter with Traveler and I oughhhhh kaljdflkajdsfljasf answering your questions might knock me out

anyway!! I love that Tartaglia is very loyal! I feel like very few people have his loyalty (the Tsaritsa and his family mainly) but once they earn it he would do anything for them. I love that he wants to become stronger and stronger so he always enjoys a fight, especially against strong opponents. and that bloodthirstiness contrasted with his love for his family?? ugh my heart. he adores his family and takes care of them as best as he can even though he's far away on missions. he writes the sweetest letters to his siblings.

soooo that brings me to the dynamic between me and Ajax!! from the moment we meet there's a lot of teasing and banter between us. a lot of pushing each other to be better. once we get to know each other and trust is formed, we become very loyal to each other despite Ajax's occupation. I'm a source of comfort to him from all the things he has to do for the Tasritsa's goals. (idk if you've heard of Epic the Musical but we're literally Odysseus and Penelope especially in the song "would you fall in love with me again".) Ajax returns and confesses the things he's had to do and every time he wonders if I'd stop loving him because of the blood on his hands and I reassure him every time that I choose him!!! ugh I'm going to cry alkdfjasdf so onto lighter things, we fit the fox x bunny dynamic very much hehe. he's a little meaner and teasing and loves to see my reactions and I'll give it back as best as I can! but he can fluster me a lot more easily >u< his face is too pretty...

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Pineyyyyy,

I'm asking for the masses: please bless us with your writing process! How do you perfect these wonderful fics?

Thank you so much for asking Zae! 💞

As my writing process is a little chaotic and not very disciplined, I'll try to gather some advice and a rough timeline of what I do and how!

I think you'll already know most of those tips Zae, considering how incredible your writing already is! I hope this will still be helpful! Also forgive me because this is going to be long and detailed (I'm hopeless).

To everyone reading this, please keep in mind that I do not claim to have a perfect recipe for writing things that will make everything absolutely incredible (first of all, I do not think my work is perfect—far from it—and it's important for you that your writing process stays fun and comfortable!). This list is about things that work for me, but you have to find what works for you!!

NON-WRITING STUFF

Before writing: I love to set myself in the mood. As I don't have much free time my dedicated writing time has become a sort of sacred moment and I have my rituals (I put up the holy combo music+a good teapot of tea+Frankincense)

Music is a HUGE part of my writing process. As you and the amazing @/redwritr have already told me (thanks again both of you this is the best compliment ever<3), my writing sounds like music and I think this is also why. (Typical example for Fantasies II: I listened to Mother Mother's - "Body" in a loop to write the desperation moment. Maybe it's just me being too suggestible, but the pace and tone of a music piece totally guide me while writing).

I use Google Docs (on dark mode lol) to write, always. I know it's not super original and I regret not being able to put a nice background or typing sounds like ZenWriter allows you to for example, but it is the most convenient for me because I can carry my WIPs everywhere through my phone or laptop (plus it has the autosave, thinking about your writing curse LMAO).

THE WRITING ITSELF - what I do very factually and in what order.

I start by writing absolutely ANYTHING that comes through my mind, even if it's very shitty or doesn't make sense. Really, anything, no filter, just pure creative torrent flooding through my brain. Most of the time, I never publish the fic like this, it's purely to keep me motivated and to let ideas flow from my brain, otherwise they just don't want to appear. It's more difficult for me to find good ideas/work the flow of what's happening if I have to stop every two minutes and reflect on what I've done. I never correct my spelling at this point either and sometimes even leave words or bits of sentences in French lol. It must be spontaneous and wild.

I usually have the main ideas somewhere written on a note and new ideas are added between them as I write.

Once this draft is finished, I have the rough lines of what's happening and the different parts of the fic, and it's time for what I like to call the "Ripening" phase (yes I'm French ofc I'm using cheese/wine metaphors for my work lmaoo). Basically, I re-read the draft a LOT of times and focus on parts that seem odd/are not well written enough to my liking.

During that phase, I do a lot of research. I like to search for lexical fields, synonyms, original or uncommon words. I use Notion to organize links of all the website/Tumblr pages that I like for discovering vocab. I visit almost every time @/literaryvein-reblogs; their blog is a pure goldmine! (let me know if you want me to share some resources).

With this newly acquired vocab, I like to go for alliteration/assonance. I often replace words I had written during the spontaneous phase with new vocab words that simply sound better together. I also try out different versions of my metaphors and keep what feels better or what is the more telling/meaningful/simply more pleasant to read.

Once all this is finished, I always take the time to re-read the whole thing in one go, trying to step back and put myself as a reader. I often end up deleting parts that seem too long or not essential enough from fear of boring you guys. I think this is purely personal, you writers know what you really want to keep or not in your writing.

So basically that's what's happening: 1. Pure chaotic writing session where I let myself be wild and write nonsense 2. Ripening phase (sorting out the good from the horribly bad from the first phase, vocab, deleting or changing parts, trying out different words and figures of speech, sometimes re-writing whole paragraphs). This phase might be the longest actually. 3. Final reading in one time and last details before publishing.

INSPIRATION AND WRITING STYLE - Getting the pretty picture out of your brain!

I know it feels difficult to put exactly what's on your mind to paper, and sadly just like while painting/drawing, imo you can never reproduce EXACTLY what you see in your brain into a physical object. You can only approach this vision as best you can! Here's what works for me.

I always try to immerse myself completely in the setting; where are the characters, what mindest do they have in this moment, what is surrounding them?

Use the five senses, this is something I do almost systematically. Sight is the most used ofc, but smell and hearing are also ultra important to me. Touch and taste also are central, especially during smut. They help bring words to life!

Don't be afraid to describe a lot; this is important to get closer to what you're picturing and putting the same image in your reader's mind.

Now, this isn't a secret to anyone, my favorite tools are metaphors and comparisons + allegories when I'm good enough to find one. To me they are the best way you can explain to readers what the thing you're picturing is close to without having to factually describe every little detail of it; or how a character feels without being too obvious.

(This is a personal preference of mine. You have to find figures of speech that feels natural and good to you, that you like reading and writing!)

Read. Reading books, poems, other people's fics, and listening to songs and their lyrics are imo the best things you can do to nourish your own writing. We're social animals; a brilliant idea may spontaneously appear from nowhere in one's head but 99% of the time it's from discovering others that your writing style will be refined and perfected (identifying what you like/don't, why you're particularly in awe of a specific sentence or particularly attracted to certain types of phrasing without trying to copy/paste the thing is the way to go)

Be curious! Inspiration also comes from anywhere; go to museums, watch movies, go take a walk in nature, really let yourself be filled with all types of art and information. I use a notebook and my phone to note random things that I see or hear that gives me a sort of "inspiration potential".

e.g: I broke a match trying to light up a candle once. Completely banal and forgettable event. Well, it ended up being a comparison for a wasted potential in Through My Eyes. Yes, the notebook is flooded with random things I probably will never use, but this is also a good way to stay open and receptive to little things around you that can inspire you.

The "show don't tell" technique, as in cinematography is a pretty difficult balance to find but is really efficient to get people interested without offering them obvious things on a golden platter, and I personally love it. Here, here, and here (symptoms and afflictions method) are some more resources!

CONCLUSION AND FINAL ADVICE

As I already said, this is what works for me! You have to find what does for you and always remember to have fun! I know it might sound weird but most of my writing process is spontaneous and words just flow "naturally" out of me most of the time, so I don't really know how to explain things clearly (sorry about that :/)

ALSO your writing takes the time it needs and it's no one else's business!!!

As you can see, my drafts in perpetual change; it's totally fine not to write the perfect fic in one go! Don't be afraid to re-write and change things as many time as you want! (I honestly think I have to stop myself from reading my works because even now after publishing, I would still be changing things!)

Never ever put pressure on yourself while writing, this must not be a source of negative emotions (this goes for writer's block too, everyone has been through it, and you should not feel bad for it!)

The most important thing is for you to try! Try different styles, and different settings, try to get interested in new stuff even if it's not your usual medium. Always be curious!

And for my fellows non-English natives, try to use Grammarly to check your grammar and spelling, WordReference to check for translations/meanings, and DeepL instead of Google's translator!

Here, I think I'm finally done! Sorry it was that long, I hope I could help you Zae, and bring you guys some useful advice! As always, take care, and have fun writing!

-Pine 🌱

[starmaniamania]

just wondering, what's your honest opinion on the Starmania fandom ?

[This got long and I apologize, but also I'm not going to cut for once, because the main points are really at the end!]

Hi!

I've been thinking about this one, I think it arrived just before the last weekend of shows and I didn't really know how to answer it.

Firstly because I don't know how to define "fandom" here, as "Starmania fandom" seems so big and also so small at the same time.

There's thousands of people in France who'd probably define themselves as fans of Starmania, and I've met some of them in concert venues and my opinion of them is often not amazing 🤣 (Lots of people who are rude, impatient, entitled, who missed or forgot the message of the show and complain it is "too woke now," who try to treat the show as their personal nostalgic karaoke, who don't care about the artists on stage and only want to compare them to their 70s albums...) But to be fair it's probably true of most large groups of people who attend a show, and not specific to Starmania at all. I'm also annoyed at the people who believe that 1978 is SACRED and "No one will ever sing the SOS better than Balavoine or Monopolis better than France Gall" (who didn't even sing that w- that's a hot take for a DIFFERENT TIME🤣)

And need I mention the Mogador fanatics? 😅

But simultaneously, Starmania fandom as I've usually defined "fandom" (i.e., a community of fans who want to create, appreciate and discuss fanworks, whether that is meta, art, fic...) is TIIIINY. But it is a bunch of incredibly creative, talented, smart, funny people who I love a whole lot!

Honestly, my biggest "hot take" about Starmania fandom in the Tumblr/fanworks sense is the reason I've been going back and forth on how to answer this, because I don't want it to be taken the wrong way, but here goes... The truth is that I'm a little scared.

I see a lot of posts on wider Tumblr about how nowadays people move on from fandoms the second they end (usually talking about movies or tv shows.) The last episodes air, and a few weeks later the fandom suddenly dies because the critical mass of participants lose interest/find another new shiny object to focus on. This is usually paired with a comparison to "the olden days" when fandoms could survive for years after their canon was over, because enough fans kept producing enough new fanworks and having enough discussions to keep the thing alive even if a small-medium proportion of fans moved on.

And I worry that there's not enough of us to be able to do that, because we don't really have critical mass. For me personally, I worry that too many people are going to move on much sooner than I'm ready to let go (because I'm definitely not going anywhere for a while!), and that I'll go back to posting into the void.

I posted recently that this blog had reached its 100th follower but I consider a "hit" post to be around or over 8 notes. I think on AO3, we have 7 people who write semi-regularly, and the fics with the most kudos have 10. Those are starvation numbers in basically any other fandom, and they're our MOST POPULAR ones!! And it's not like we have, you know, that one author who just writes all day as a hobby and churns out 30k fics every other week, where everyone can just sit back and feel confident that new stuff is going to be coming no matter what.

(And that's why sometimes if I notice people discussing a fic in private, I'm like... I hope everyone involved in that discussion has let the author know they read the fic, because that could basically double the amount of feedback it got 😅😅)

So, yeah, basically, I just really hope that we collectively manage to support ourselves enough that it keeps feeling like a community, that it keeps living and maybe even growing. And that means everyone doing their share, me included, I'm definitely not saying I'm perfect here :p

And I know we all have busy lives and other things to do and fandom is a fun hobby and not a chore or homework. I'm not saying everyone needs to start making fanart (god knows I can't) or writing fic or posting essays or whatever, but let's make sure we interact with each other, with our fanworks, with discussion posts. Let's reply to each other!

And again, speaking personally (I hope this doesn't make it seem like I'm just using this post to whine haha) let's make sure to reblog, not just like posts. (FYI, it always takes me a little while to get to the posts I see, usually because I don't want to spam so I put things in the queue rather than rebloging them on sight, but they're going to come out eventually! Also feel free to send me things you think I missed!)

I'm not going to go into a(nother) rant about how "there is no algorithm on Tumblr" but you might not realize that every time someone reblogs one of the posts, I then see new usernames liking them! You guys have such an impact on spreading the Starmania lore/love -- I know I've gone into so many fandoms because I kept seeing a mutual post about them, and I would scroll past for weeks until one image hit me and I then *needed* to know where it was from, and sometimes that's how I found new fandoms!

So, yeah, I hope we can collectively bring in a few new people, and keep ourselves interested and happy for long enough that maybe we even bridge the "pause" and start getting new content again!!

So that's my answer. Congrats if you made it to the end, and tl;dr ILU ALL DON'T LEAVE OKAY? 😭

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: a reader that keeps messing around w him and at some point they mention they like him but then hoshina thinks theyre just playing... ..but they r not and he doesnt quite get it at first because hes so used to them joking around and then he ends up overthinking the whole thing until reader actually goes up to him to kiss him (or hug him very tight!!!!!!!! or both maybe!!!!!!)

maybe he liked them too but that thought didnt sit right with him because he doesnt believe hes worthy of something like that

notes: mentions the reader's face "flushing", reader is rather lively/outgoing, reader is not a fan of horror and is more a fan of romance, reader is a hoshina stan, one part is inspired by a scene in wakaba no komorebi, omg why are there so many notes I'm so sorry TY FOR THE REQ!!

wc: 2800

A new day, a new chance for you to shoot your shot at none other than your vice-captain of the third division.

You were always messing with him. This ranged from embarrassing pranks a grade school boy would menace his crush with, all the way to borderline hitting on him. There wasn’t a single day you’d forget to remind him he was stunning, and you’d always be bragging about him to the officers in the first division, regardless of the fact that you had absolutely nothing to do with the things you were bragging about. Simply put, you were loud about Hoshina.

Yet, every day, he'd brush you off and tell you to get to work. You didn't let that mind you much though, because you could tell he wasn't actually upset. You liked him unconditionally, and as long as you weren't actually bothering him, you couldn't care less if your feelings weren't returned. Well, you did care, but that wasn't going to stop how you felt for him.

Now, you said all of that, but naturally, you were still scared to just put your feelings out there so you hadn’t actually told Hoshina you liked him. You assumed he knew, but if you said it out loud, you’d have to hear an answer. And that, you were not ready for.

However, you weren’t going to stop messing with him anytime soon. Hoping one day he’d actually fall for you and one day you’d have the courage to properly tell him how you felt.

You were in the cafeteria with the rest of the division, having your breakfast while mindlessly scrolling through your phone, when you saw a post about a new movie in theatres. Immediately your mind went to possibly inviting Hoshina and you scrolled right back up, trying to find out what it was about. Horror. You sighed and continued to scroll. Horror was absolutely not your favourite.

“Oh, is it finally out?” you heard a voice from behind you say— your favourite voice say.

“Would you like to go?” you asked, whipping your head back to see none other than Hoshina Soushirou. Just the sight of him and your heart would flutter. How you loved him. “Together? Us? Just us? You and me?”

“Oh, like we have time to go,” he said.

“Man,” you said, knowing he’d say that. The entire defence force in general had been a lot busier ever since the appearance of so many identified grade kaijus. However, it did make you wonder if that meant he would if he did have time. No, he’s just declining your invitation politely, you’d tell yourself, bringing you back to your senses.

You’ve done this since always, and you do this every time without fail. Whenever a new shop had opened, or a new movie to watch had come to theatres, you'd always shoot your shot— hoping he'd say yes one day. Yes to a date.

Although you were used to getting turned down, it still wasn’t the best feeling. Recently, you've been letting it get to you far more than you used to. Maybe after all these times, the rejection did start to have an affect on you. Maybe you were falling for him even harder recently, or maybe you were starting to hope for your feelings to be returned.

Perhaps a relaxing day at the movies was exactly what you needed. Maybe you’d ask for a day off next week— just to go watch a movie you liked.

So you did exactly that, you filed a form to Captain Ashiro, requesting a day off anytime the next week. Preferably on a Tuesday, because movie tickets were cheaper on Tuesdays.

A few days later, you were called over to her office. You assumed it was just to let you know if you could have your day off and if so, when it was. To your surprise, when you walked in, it wasn't Ashiro but rather Hoshina there, working away.

“Hoshina?” you asked, pleasantly surprised. “I didn't expect to see you today.”

“You didn't?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “But this is my office?”

“Your office? I thought it was Captain Ashiro’s?” you said.

“It used to be, but I took it over a little while back,” he said. “It's just a lot faster for me to do the paperwork.”

“Oh… I see,” you said, rather surprised you weren't already aware. There was a moment of silence.

“It was rather recently that I had officially started working here,” he said, somehow noticing that you were dejected. Oh, how did he always know exactly what to say? You were never going to get over him at this rate. “Anyways, you requested a day off next week?”

“Um… yes,” you said. Now you felt a little awkward about going to a movie alone, and you really hoped he wouldn't realize where you were going.

“On a Tuesday… are you going to see that movie after all?” he asked and he noticed you stiffened a little, so he immediately followed with, “Sorry, you don't have to answer that. You're absolutely free to take that day off.”

“I am,” you said. Half a lie, because there was no way you were watching a horror movie, let alone by yourself. But you were going to the movies. That was true. “It's been a while since I watched a movie in theatres, I realized.”

“I've never gone alone actually,” he said, imagining you were planning to go alone. “Or are you going with someone?”

“No, I'll be by myself,” you said, but instinctively you asked him out again. It was practically in your subconsciousness to do so. “Unless you'd like to tag along?”

There was a long pause before he said anything, and his unreadable expression only made the silence feel longer. You were expecting a quick rejection again, so the silence was absolutely killing you— you hadn't expected it one bit.

“Actually, I'd like to,” he said. “If that's okay with you, of course.”

You couldn't believe your ears. What did he say? You couldn't have possibly heard that right. What had he said?

On the other hand, he had no idea why he said yes. Why after turning you down all these times? Why now? He had turned down every offer of yours because he knew you were just messing around. You didn’t feel about him the way he felt about you. He knew this because you had done this since the moment you joined, and you couldn’t have liked him back then— you hadn't even know him yet.

But still, he hoped you were serious.

“You're joking,” you said.

“Were you?” he asked. This must be why he said yes. He wanted to know so badly— he was rather exhausted of playing the guessing game with you.

“Not at all,” you said. You thought he had known, but perhaps not. “I've never been. Not for a moment.”

“Then, let's go,” he said with his poker face on, but he was a little shaken. He didn't think you were at all serious, let alone that serious.

“Hoshina, is this a date?” you asked, and you could tell your cheeks were flushed. However, there wasn't much to be embarrassed about at this point, so you might as well have asked before you drove yourself insane.

“Okay…” you said, but you were spaced out. You had no idea what had prompted this all of a sudden, but this was the moment you had been waiting for, for your whole life. Yes to a date.

A date? Was it a date?

“Would you like it to be?” he asked. You had no idea what he was thinking.

“Yes,” you said. “Of course…”

“Then, let's go on a date,” he said. “On Tuesday, at 2pm. I'll pick you up from your unit and we'll go and watch a movie.”

It was yes to a date. A date with none other than the love of your life. You were going on a date with Hoshina Soushirou.

You left the office soon after, thanking him as you left, and you were lost in thought. You truly felt like the world around you had stopped, but at the same time, the time passing was a blur. You thought it’d be forever before your long awaited day, and you’d have plenty of time to calm yourself down and prepare, but it had rolled around before you knew it.

You put on what you personally thought was your best date outfit, but you had no idea if he’d like it. You really hoped he would. Now, you were sitting around, waiting for him to come pick you up. It was still 10 till 2, but he was always ahead of schedule— he hated making people wait, so he was always early. A few minutes later, you heard a few footsteps and some rustling outside your door, and you were pretty sure it was him. You waited for a knock, but it wouldn’t come.

Quickly, you opened the door and it was him, waiting by your door with his phone in his hand, opened to your messages with him.

“Oh,” he said. “Sorry, were you waiting?”

“No,” you said, immediately. “I just finished getting ready. Why didn’t you knock?”

“Well, I’m early,” he said. “Didn’t want to rush you.”

Gosh, you were on a date. With him. You had actually never seen him in anything other than what he wears at the defense force, and as much as you liked that training shirt he had on, he looked so incredibly gorgeous today. And this was just for you. He wore a black corduroy turtleneck, and a simple long coat to go over it. You were still so lost, how had you gotten to this point in the first place?

“You’re stunning today,” he said to you as he smiled a little and you swear you felt your heartrate spike. Did he even know what he was doing?

“Not to mean you aren’t usually…” he said immediately. “Sorry, I never say the right things when they count, do I?”

“No, I thought my heart was going to stop,” you said, frankly. This was the way you always were, there was no point in getting flustered all of a sudden. “You’re gorgeous everyday, but even more so today.”

“Well, I’d have to be glad our date is today then,” he said.

While the two of you walked to the theatre, it was rather quiet. Far more quiet than you usually were. Suddenly, you were so nervous, and there was nothing to say to him. So many questions filled your head but none of them felt appropriate to ask. You felt like the spell would break if you took one wrong breath. You wanted to know why he was here with you today. Why he said yes all of a sudden, why he took a precious day off to go on a date with you, and what he was thinking when he said yes. You wanted to know how he felt about you, or at least how he felt about this date.

“I’ll go get us tickets,” you said, as soon as you got to the theatre. “Please pick a snack and a drink in the meantime, I’ll get the tickets quick.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, I’m getting the tickets, and the drinks and snacks, for that matter,” he said. “Besides, we haven’t even decided on a movie yet.”

“We haven’t?” you asked. “I thought we were watching the movie that came out the other day?”

“What? Why would we?” he asked, genuinely confused. “You don’t even like horror." He pointed at another poster on the wall. "Why don’t we watch that one? Romance is more your type of thing, isn’t it?”

You thought you’d cry. If there was one thing that was worrying you about this date, it was the movie. Horror really wasn’t for you, and you weren’t sure if you could watch the movie without showing it.

“How did you know?” you asked.

“It’s obvious,” he said. “You’ve never asked me out to a horror movie, have you?”

Just how did he notice? “But didn’t you want to watch that one?” you asked.

“Please, I can watch that whenever, on my own,” he said. “I’m here with you today. I’d be a horrible date to make you watch it with me.”

“Thank you,” you said, starstruck. “At least, let me pay for it then?”

“No way,” he said. “I’m taking you out today.”

“No, I asked you out,” you said.

“Don’t care!” he said and went off to get the tickets and snacks.

You were in love with him, and you were going to tell him. You were sure he knew, but you had to tell him properly. It wasn’t even that you were hoping for him to return your feelings, you just wanted to tell him.

You thought you wouldn’t be able to focus on the movie at all, but you were, strangely enough. You were watching a cliche romance movie that couldn’t possibly be about you and Hoshina, no matter how much you tried to stretch the narrative, but you loved it. It was a sweet movie, a type that you've always loved, and you were watching it with the one you always loved. You couldn’t be happier.

So as soon as the movie was over, you went for it.

“Hoshina, I love you so much,” you said, and kissed him. On the lips.

His eyes were wide and his cheeks were faintly flushed. You weren’t expecting that, not even for a moment.

“You’re serious?” he asked.

You were confused, did he think you were playing around all this time? “Yes, of course,” you said. “I’ve loved you for forever.”

“Since… when?” he asked.

“Since the day you saved me, 3 years ago,” you said, immediately. It was like you had waited all your life to answer this. “You definitely don’t remember, but I remember like yesterday.”

He wouldn’t reply, but he was still looking at you surprised, so you continued on.

“I thought I had told you this actually. Not the part that I liked you, but the part that you saved me. I joined because of you, Hoshina,” you said. “Yes, you’re my vice-captain and the love of my life, and I’m one of your officers, but you were my hero and I was your biggest fan for all this time.”

Something in him shifted. It felt like someone had woken him up from a weird haze, and showed him how much colour there is to the world. You joined for him. Not for Mina, not for Gen, but him. To you, he was a hero. To the one he treasured most, he was irreplaceable.

“I love you too,” he said, with the softest smile you had ever seen from him. He was serious, you could tell.

“No way,” you said.

“I do,” he said, but he could tell that you were a little skeptical, or at least puzzled. “I love the way you work hard, the way you joke around, but actually care so much. I love the way you give everything your all. I love the way you always smile when you see me— it makes me feel so special. You make my day, absolutely every single day.”

It took everything in you to stop yourself from sobbing, but that made Hoshina laugh. He kissed you this time, and tears rolled down your cheeks anyway.

Wiping your cheeks with the pad of his thumb, he kissed you on the forehead.

“I absolutely adore you.”

BONUS:

Later that day, you were going to open up the one cardboard box you still hadn’t unpacked. The one filled with your posters and merch of Hoshina you had collected through these years. You were hiding them, because you thought it’d be a little too weird if you had those just hanging around, but finally, they’d see the sunlight. You would never have even imagined this day when you had those in your room, dreaming of him. If only you could tell your past self— just how thrilled you would’ve been. Well, not that you were any less thrilled now.

The next time Hoshina came to visit you in your room, he was utterly flustered, it was absolutely adorable. He couldn’t believe people actually bought the merch they sold of him, let alone put them up— and in the room of his loved one nonetheless. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, because it made him so incredibly happy.

He was thrilled that you did, in fact, love him the way he loved you.

[toxintouch]

Yooooooo, you write fan fictions, don't you? Halloween is, like, right over there *points*. would you be willing to do one of mhin taking sparrow ghost hunting? and maybe even having a "guest appearance" of a certain shadow manipulator?

if this has already been done, could you point me in the right direction?

thank you~

I've never seen a fic like that but omg. This is such a brilliant idea, I love how all the pieces come together so perfectly–Vere being said to be responsible for his fair share of local ghost stories, mentions of Mhin and haunted houses in the Uquiz results… Premium thoughts.  I had a lot of fun writing this, ty for giving me the prompt!! :>

It took a couple of extra days but it's also longer (~2900 words) so hopefully that makes up for it.  p.s sorry if u meant it to be more gen bc I wrote romantic pining lol Volume Warning! Ambiance (~BEAUTIFUL FOX NOISES) for y'all /j

Cold Spots

You pull your cloak tighter around yourself, sheltering your remaining body heat from the howling wind.  

You ignore the shiver that creeps down your spine.

You’ve been warned that the night is chilly in Eridia at this time of year, but you haven’t quite scraped together enough coin to afford more layers.  So you huddle closer to the swaying lamplight of the Wet Wick, attempting to leech warmth from the cheery (if occasionally overwhelming) atmosphere of the bar.  You’re on edge, wary about straying too far from the Wick’s affable open doors and the balmy light spilling out of them.

You crane your neck to peer as far as you can around the corner without moving, eyeing the myriad of nearby alleyways, all full to the brim with shadows, searching for a familiar splash of moonlight and blue sweeping through the night.

 That’s when you feel eyes on your back.

You freeze, all of your senses on high alert.

“You’re where I asked you to be.”  Mhin says in lieu of a greeting.  You startle, reeling around to face them.  Even when you're expecting them, they have the uncanny ability of sneaking up on you.

“You say that like you’re surprised.”  You chide, in mock affront.  “You’ll notice that I’m also on time.”  Your giddiness shows on your face, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t act so pleased with yourself,” they snipe while rolling their eyes, “for anyone else, that’s the bare minimum.”  They frown, looking you up and down with their arms tightly crossed. “...Is that what you’re wearing?”

Any further quips you have for them die in your mouth, drowned out by nervous chuckling.  You realize they must be asking (in their own way) if you’re not going to get too cold.  You know you could just ask Leander or Kuras for some seasonally appropriate attire but you’d rather not rely on further charity if you can’t help it.  Hence: “I’m, um, warm blooded?”  You mean to inject an appropriate amount of bravado into your voice, but it comes out as more of a question.

Mhin sighs, long eyelashes brushing their cheeks as they close their eyes for one long moment.   “Sometimes I wonder…  Fine.  Let’s just get going.”

The floorboards shriek beneath your feet as you step across the threshold.  The entire shack seems to groan and sway, protesting audibly against the wind.  You stick close to Mhin’s back as they hold their gas lamp up, casting an eerie glow about the interior of the abandoned building.  Their keen eyes do a quick sweep before they nod decisively and usher you inside with a single precise motion.

The bellow of the wind sounds almost like a scream as the door shuts behind you.

“So, what are we looking for, exactly?”  Your voice comes out hushed, the haunting atmosphere insisting that you behave accordingly.

“Likely nothing.”  Mhin responds.  “Actual ghost sightings are very rare.  And of those, few recorded instances come from trustworthy sources.  People in Eridia can be quite superstitious.  Count on rats or other pests.  It’s more plausible that this is a mere infestation rather than–”

The roof above your heads gives a long, low creeaaaak.

You both pause for a beat, listening to silence.

“How would we know if it's a real ghost?”  You ask, more out of curiosity than anything.  You’re not about to waste the opportunity, if Mhin is willing to keep talking.

“Depends on the type of ghost.”  Another protest from the floorboards as Mhin wanders further into the dark.  Since you don’t have a lantern of your own, you have no choice but to follow close behind.  Unless you want to stumble around with nothing but the shatters of dusty moonlight cast through the cracked windows to guide your way.

Mhin and you make a quick round of the small building, finding it mostly empty, only a few pieces of broken furniture left behind.  You draw closer to the back wall, carefully avoiding moth-eaten curtains, heeding Mhin’s warning about a small step.  Based on the layout, you think this place might have been a bar or entertainment hall of some sort.  You imagine it had a nice, cozy parlor at one time, though now it’s fallen into squalor.  As Mhin examines the walls for signs of pests and other clues, you examine the graffiti strewn across them: crude jokes and lewd drawings, mostly.  Some scattered names, belonging to people and gangs you’ve never heard of before.  

Framed in the center, though, there's a huge riot of colorful paint.  An abstract painting with no proper canvas.  It's beautiful, somehow, though hauntingly morose.  The artist has contained their work in a neat square, not a single streak of color escaping the precisely imposed prison.  You’re not sure what the intent of the artist was choosing somewhere like this to display it…  

“Is there a type of ghost that makes artwork?”  You wonder aloud.  You almost wish that Mhin would hand you the lantern so you can get a better look.

Mhin clicks their tongue, sparing barely a glance toward the makeshift painting.  “I wouldn't define that as art.”  Mhin follows the line of the wall to the corner, their lantern held up to the wall.  “That’s just…paint.  If you’re looking for ghosts, try looking for scratch marks.  Those are a possible indicator, though not always a reliable one.  A sudden feeling of hot, or cold–any otherwise unexplainable temperature change.  A strange odor…”

You give the air a sniff.  “...I don’t smell anything.  Do you?”

“Dust.  Rotting wood.  And you’ve stopped using Leander’s bath soaps, which I’ll commend you for.  Why anybody would want to smell that strongly of–”  Mhin stops and gives a short whiff, their mouth slightly parted.  Their brows furrow. “It is unusual…I don't see or smell any signs of rats or roaches.  No vultures either…”

“Maybe something else scared them away?”  You posit.  You shuffle closer to Mhin, not liking the way the shadows around you seem to flow and ebb the longer you look at them, your mind making up shapes.  There’s a silly part of you that wants to feel Mhin’s cloak between your bandaged fingers as reassurance that they’ll stay close.  They’d probably hate to know that you see them as something to cling to–a source of comfort, safety.

You try to take another step closer to further dampen your trepidation, but instead you trip over– something–and stumble directly into Mhin.  They catch you on impulse, strong and quick enough to steady you with one arm while holding the lantern with the other.  You breathe an apology, your lips bumping against their chin as they help you get your feet back under you.  

You both search the ground to determine what knocked you off your balance.

It's a dirty old rug, rucked up at one edge.  

A long line of what appears to be claw marks lies half uncovered below it.  Mhin kneels beside the marks, studying them intently, carefully moving the rug to reveal yet more splintered wood.  “I’m not sure what could have done this,” they admit.  “The marks are fresh, but none of the dust was disrupted…”

The floorboards groan another protest, though it bounds off the walls in strange ways, making it difficult to pinpoint exactly where the sound originated.

“Aural contortions.”  Mhin announces.  “And a feeling that you’re being watched.  Reflective surfaces will behave oddly as well.  Hold this.”  Mhin hands you the lantern (more: shoves it into your grasp, really) reaching into their satchel.  Their nimble hands pull out a handful of alchemical concoctions, one which shines like the inside of a seashell, a tiny silver locket, which they flick open to reveal a small mirror.  There’s symbols etched into it, so old and worn away you can’t make them out.

You draw the lantern closer at their behest, illuminating a small smile spread across their face.

Is Mhin …Having fun?

“Is there anything I can do to help?”  You ask, hoping they don’t notice the warmth in your voice. Getting scolded would kind of ruin the mood.

Mhin glances up, blinking at you like they almost forgot you were there.  Their tongue peeks out, wetting their lips as they consider.  “Yes,” they finally agree, “would you–”

The lamplight is smothered by an unknown force.

The cracked streams of light from the window are gone, leaving you in darkness.

Mhin swears, their voice distorting as if they are suddenly very far away.  A moment ago they were crouched beside you, but the shadows surrounding you are so inky you can’t make out their silhouette at all.  Instinctively, you reach your hands out in front of you before freezing and reluctantly forcing them back down.  If both you and Mhin end up stumbling around with hands outstretched, there’s a possibility that they might accidentally grasp onto you and disrupt your bandages.  (You wish you had given into your desire to hold onto them earlier.)  

You whisper their name, frantic, hoping they can hear you.

“I’m here,” Mhin assures you, their voice pitched low and cautious.  You feel the gentle press of a foot against yours, a light tap of reassurance against the side of your sole.  “Stay close.”  There’s a brush of fingertips against your back.  “If the entity is particularly powerful, it will be able to move objects,” Mhin cautions, “but a ghost should never be capable of causing harm to humans directly.  And there’s not much in here that it could throw.  Just stay calm.  If you don’t keep your emotions in check, it will only be more incensed.”

Light flashes through the room again in a spotlight, guiding your gaze to a particular area of the building.

The abstract mural is defaced, dripping black liquid splattered boldly across the wall like arterial spray.  You retreat a step, feeling something wet beneath your feet.  There’s a sharp, astringent tang in the air.  Musty and earthy-floral.  Old velvet and leather, parchment and fresh paint.

You realize, with a sinking feeling of cold terror, that the black ichor on the wall spells your name.

    Eyes on you.  

Touch like a gossamer spider web.  Brushing against the nape of your neck.

“Mhin,” you whisper urgently.  “Something just–”  

The cold hits you then.  Bone deep and all consuming.  Judging by the way Mhin swears, they must feel it too.  Whatever this unknown entity is, it’s close.  And it wants…

Shadow flickers, fingers reaching for you, claws grasping, white glint of teeth.

Mhin sneers audibly, reaching for you and reeling you in by your cloak just before the figure can snatch you up.  Their arm wraps around you, guiding you with them as they recede.  They sweep their stiletto in a wide arc and you hear the clang of metal on metal, though you have no idea what it was that Mhin hit.  Their night vision must be immaculate–you can hardly see more than the fresh glint of their stiletto blade.

“Turns out it is a vermin infestation.”

A bark of laughter.  

Very familiar laughter.

The door starts to rattle on its hinges, moving to the rhythm of Vere's glee.  Mhin walks over to it, dragging your shaking body with them.  With a definitive kick from Mhin and a final cackle from Vere, the door bursts open.

Mhin tugs you out into the open air and slams it behind them.

“Awful fur-bag.”  Mhin spits the words out like the mere thought of Vere leaves a bad taste in their mouth.

You’re far enough away that the black paint clinging to both of your shoes is no longer leaving footprints, but you can’t say the same about the bone deep cold.

You’re shivering so hard your teeth start to chatter, adrenaline magnifying the chill in your bones.  How did Vere even do that?  You rub your arms and nearly stumble into Mhin in the process.  Their features twist into a half-formed scowl, eyes sweeping you before softening into something more delicate.

You find yourself staring into eyes that seem to catch the moonlight, words caught in your throat.

“You’re freezing.” Mhin murmurs, resting a hand against the curve of your cheek, testing your temperature.

You’re surprised at the contact.  Mhin is always so careful about touching you–it’s something you appreciate, usually, this unspoken agreement between the two of you; Mhin doesn’t ask intrusive questions, just makes silent hypotheses and treats your personal space with care.  You appreciate it–usually–but sometimes, (constantly), you wish…

Mhin’s thumb pets against your jaw.  They glace away from you as they do, unable to hold your gaze, but they don’t remove their hand, even as the moment hangs heavy in the air.  Their hand is soft, you think, fingertips like silk, though you can feel the thick calluses built up at the meat of their palm.  Likely hard won and harder lost, trophies from their time as a freelancer and whatever secret misfortune befell them what led them to Eridia.  Unthinking, you nuzzle into their touch, luxuriating in the coveted feeling of skin on skin.  You have half a mind to turn your head, press your lips against their calluses, kiss them like you’re drawing poison from a wound.

Mhin catches your chin between their thumb and pointer finger.  Their grip is assertive, certain.  You’d worry that you’ve angered them somehow, but the intensity of their gaze, the subtle tilt of their head, the flush of their cheeks, the featherlight caress of their breath on your lips…

–You think they might–

They back away abruptly in one smooth stride.  Their hands work quickly at the intricate clasp on their cloak.  Oh, now they’re really looking away.

“Wear this while we head back.  You didn’t come to this city to die of cold.”

They look at their bracers pointedly as you hesitate, as if itching to adjust them.  You slowly reach out and put the garment on.

The trek back to the Wick is uneventful.  The occasional star glances out from the pall of clouds constantly lingering in the Eridian sky.  You look for the waning moon, finding its reticent light and following it home.  You return Mhin’s cloak at the door, careful to hold it in a way that allows them to take it without having to touch you – touch your bandages.  

Mhin looks, oddly, a little reluctant to see it returned.  You’re not sure how else you can possibly read their body language.  Their hunched shoulders, the downturn of their mouth, their uncharacteristic lingering.  Holding the cloak in their hands like they can’t quite decide what to think of it.

They let out a sharp breath.

Mhin levels you with a pointed glare as they settle their mantle across their shoulders, affixing the clasp without need to look down.  “Buy some warmer clothes.” they order, “Tell Leander that the contract is complete and the buyer’s ‘ghost problem’ is solved.  The building should be fine for renovations, just tell them to start their renewal project on a day when the Senobium is actually holding Vere’s leash.”

  “You’ll come back for your cut tomorrow…?”  Confusion rolls off your lips.

“No.”  Mhin crosses their arms again.  “I just told you to buy some warmer clothes, didn’t I?  Consider it hazard pay.”  Again, that disgusted tone Mhin reserves for Vere.  “Even with that taken into consideration, you’ll still owe me, though.  Don’t forget.  I’ll collect some day; everyone does in this city.”

You’re not sure what to say.  Mhin is insisting that this is just a loan, and you believe that wholeheartedly.  But that doesn’t mean it isn’t charity.  Mhin’s also offering you transparency–an open disclosure of the deal you’re agreeing to.  You take their cut, buy what you need, and resolve to pay it back when you can.  And if Mhin needs something similar in the future, you’ll return them in kind.  

You think you stumble over your words a little, but you agree to their offer.

“I’ll be back to collect another contract.  Hopefully something that’s not a waste of my time.”

And a promise to come back is a promise to see you again, isn’t it?  To include you in their life?  Is that what you’re supposed to take from this?  That Mhin cares for you, even if they won’t–

  Or is it your foolish heart, showing you a path that isn’t really there?  

“Goodnight, Mhin.”  You say the words, but their back is already turned, steps already taken.

   ✦ EXTENDED ENDING...? ✦

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

✦Heat Signature (Vere Continuation) ->

[stellewriites]

butch!141 moodboards? 👀

butch!141 moodboards 🙂‍↕️ - links to each fic attached

simon price

gaz johnny

inspired a little bit by the fic ideas i’ve got planned for them and their characters overall,, i have a reason (though some are admittedly Dumb) for every item on these moodboards so PLEASE yap away with me about them

[good-beanswrites]

A little something featuring Fuuta and Es after talking about their criminal lack of interaction in fanworks with @waivyjellyfish ! You had such awesome ideas (a few of which I'm still bouncing around in my head to post at some point,) but this one ended up taking over my brain -- I hope you enjoy 😅 Attempting to answer the widely-debated question:

“Oi, why didn’t you hit me?”

Es looked up from their paperwork.

“Prisoner number three. Most people are glad when they’re not struck.”

“Well, I’m not.” 

Es usually left the door open at this hour, in case anyone had any last-minute complaints before curfew. No one usually took them up on the offer. They figured that if there was any prisoner they could count on to complain, it would be Fuuta marching through their door.

“You hit all the other guys. You even hit some of the girls that were giving you trouble. So what? You think I’m too weak? You think I can’t take it?” Fuuta spread his arms. “I can, so show me what you’ve got!”

Es sighed. They put down their pen. They folded their gloved hands together, resting their chin on top. “Fuuta, I’m not going to hit you.”

“Why not?”

“As of right now, I have no reason to. If you’re referring to the interrogations…”

They reflected on the first one they'd shared with him. To be fair, the thought had crossed their mind. It would have been satisfying to give this rowdy prisoner a taste of his own medicine – striking him after such a dramatic charge at them. But Es was always good at reading people. It didn’t take them long to understand Fuuta was the type to lash out first and ask questions later. In fact, that was likely what had landed him in Milgram in the first place. 

Although Es knew they weren’t here to do any reformation, they wanted to try to show these prisoners where they’d gone wrong. So, they resolved to act as the bigger person. They’d prove that senseless violence was just that. By keeping their composure, they’d show Fuuta just how childish he was being. 

That wasn’t my only reason. I guess that's true, my actions weren’t all purely righteous. I still spent the entire time looking for ways to make him squirm… But it wasn’t all cruelty. I really did want to understand. I wanted to help. That counts for something, right?

Es never struck the prisoners out of anger, or as a petty show of power. It was a way to force the prisoner to mind their ego. When they’d gotten a bit too full of themselves, a bit too comfortable with the awful deed they’d committed, Es’ blow encouraged them to feel a bit more humility and guilt. 

By the time the second trial arrived, Fuuta oozed guilt. 

The moment Es entered the interrogation room, it was clear that he needed no lesson in humility. He hugged his arms to his chest. His remaining eye darted around the room in thinly-veiled hysteria. His voice trembled when he spoke. It didn’t require any people-reading skills to hear the remorse that underlaid all of his accusations and threats.

Hitting the others felt like giving a dog a tap on the nose after breaking a rule. Meanwhile, Fuuta snapped and snarled like a stray who’d been kicked time and time again.

Of course, he could never know any of this. Any way Es phrased it, Fuuta would misunderstand it as pity.

Well, wasn’t it? I thought he looked like a kicked puppy – that sounds a lot like pity. No, it was out of respect. Does that mean I didn’t respect the prisoners I did hit? No. I respected them too. Then, what’s the difference?

Fuuta was still staring at them, asking the very same question. What’s the difference?

“Each of Milgram’s prisoners is unique.” 

They were met with an unimpressed glare.

Es chose their words carefully. “Each one responds best to a variety of treatments. Some need attention to be comfortable, while others need time. Some need validation in order to confess. Others, a bit of debate does the trick. Some need a show of force. You –” remind me too much of myself  “– require something else. I’ve learned to change my approach depending on the person I’m dealing with.”

Fuuta’s features flashed with confusion, then shame, then his usual mask of anger. “Tch. How pathetic.”

“Excuse me?”

“So you just change your personality when it’s convenient? You put up fake smiles and fake attitude? Have some balls and just be yourself.”

Es was caught by surprise. “... I am. Those are all pieces of myself. I choose to bring out different parts when it would be most helpful.” 

“Sounds manipulative as hell to me.” 

It makes sense he doesn’t understand. He’s a very clear-cut person, with every aspect of his personality lining up in a way that makes sense. I find that predictability fun. Or, is it something that I envy? Could it be both?

They had no time to dwell on it, as Fuuta was struck with an idea. “Though, if you can do it on command, why don’t you give me the ‘you’ that wants to hit someone?” 

He spread his arms once more, hands gesturing to his chest. Es pretended not to notice him wince. They remained in their seat. 

“What are you waiting for? Hit me!” 

“I will not.”

“You just said you can change your personality on a whim, so let’s see it!” 

“That is not what I said.”

His good eye began to look frenzied. He raised his voice. “You scared? The big bad warden of Milgram, nothing but a big coward!”

“Stop this. You’re acting childish.”

“No! You’re treating me childishly! Let me see the Es that kicked Shidou! The one that slapped Kazui! Treat me like you treated them!”

“I hit them because they said something stupid. They deserved it.”

“Are you fucking kidding? I deserve it too! I deserve it! Come on!”

At the last word, his voice broke. He stumbled to his knees. He let his head drop. He sucked in strained breath after strained breath. Shidou would surely give him a lecture about getting so worked up with his injuries. 

Es finally stood.

They made their way around the desk. They knelt on the floor in front of him. 

“Why?” he wheezed. “Tell me…”

“Fuuta.” 

Should I just go ahead and do it, just to make him happy? No, I want to talk it out. But what do even I say? I'll tell him that I care. I can’t. None of the prisoners understand that I care. Why? Why is it so hard for them to see? I’m trying my best, why can’t they see? 

Es extended their hand carefully. They didn’t know what they hoped to accomplish, but in that moment their thoughts were too loud and conflicting. They needed to do something.

Fuuta saw the gentle intention, and immediately raised his own hand to strike. It froze midair, though whether it was from Milgram’s restrictions or his own hesitation, Es would never know.

Neither of their gestures connected.

Footsteps. Then Yuno’s voice, hesitantly from the doorway. “We heard shouting, is everything alright in here?”

Es retracted their hand.  A beat. Fuuta dropped his, too. 

“Yuno. Yes, we’re fine. Fuuta was just heading to bed. I’m going to walk him to his cell.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I said, I’m going to walk him to his cell.” 

Es stood, nodding to Yuno. When she’d gone, they turned their attention back to the prisoner crumpled on the ground. They made an effort to quiet their ever-racing thoughts. 

“Listen. I know you can handle yourself. I’m not doing this because I think you’re weak. You’re strong. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t see that.”

They held out their arm to help him up. He didn’t move.

“Sometimes you are a bit too strong, if you ask me. I mean, picking fights with your prison warden, really?” They clicked their tongue. “You should be grateful for a superior that gives you second chances.”

At last, Fuuta  took their hand. He avoided meeting their eyes, but his voice had softened considerably from his rant. “The only thing you give me is a headache.”

Es offered a dry smile as they pulled him to his feet. “The feeling is mutual.”

[clegfly]

“Of course you have an Other Brother,” he says, waving off her denial as he opens some nearby cabinets. “Who else would I be if I wasn’t?”

Small WIP sketch of the Other Brother from IDKSomethingClever99’s fic “Mari in the Pink Palace”!!! OMORI and Coraline are my two biggest interests ever so this fic was like winning the lottery for me. Not to mention how good it is… please go read it ragh