#dome cafe

[emaadsidiki]

Rooftop ◈ Reichstag ◈ Berlin ࿐ྀུ ❀ꦿ֗

[bl-bam-beyond]

BAM & BEYOND...with DOME from THE LUMINOUS SOLUTION

WORANART RATTHANAPHAST

[Nickname: DOME]

This series is a mystery to me. Not really connecting to the main couple yet which is bad considering we're 3 episode into what is only 6 episodes. Do like the high school couple but slow moving there so let's switch into what does interest me. The FABULOUS DOME (BEAM, 2 MOONS 2)

His story is a mystery. He doesn't seem to be a part of the BL element but more involved with the Cafe Wish Lady. And in Episode 3 he went to a hospital looking for his birth records.

He brought a sandwich to the Cafe that he's not suppose to be in. What is his connection to that Cafe. He left when she got angry because Thana was coming. He bumped into Thana leaving then made a phone call in English inquiring about a magic cafe. Who is Pie? Either way DOME is looking fabulous.

@pose4photoml

[prettyvintagehouse]

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Two

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warning: None :)

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

“The sun’s barely gone down!” Cassian grumbled, following behind Helion, Rhysand, and Feyre as they walked the cobblestone streets of the Day Court. Every block of the small city contained at least two local bookstores, one cafe that also sold books, one flower shop that also sold books, and/or a small glass box filled with - as anyone could have guessed - more books to be given away for free. 

Helion chuckled, “You’re not in the Night Court any more. My people are early to bed, early to rise. Unless of course you spend a night with me.” He winked at Cassian, who had the sense to blush. Indeed the Night Court members had been shocked when the party cleared out not even two hours after the sun had slipped beneath the ground. 

Aside from the small scale bookstores which housed the most popular and recently published novels, every sector of the Day Court also had between one to three athenaeum’s - elaborate buildings of ivory stone laced with filigree and windows that lit up like the glowing eyes of an ancient beast. They were the pride and joy of all Day Court members. The windows flickered and shone with the magic used to protect the volumes from the sun. Even as the neighborhood lights slowly winked out, Azriel could track the diligent minds scouring the brightly lit shelves. There was a loving madness in their hunched backs, craned necks, and squinting eyes. 

As their troupe reached The Alcove, one of the smaller and cozier athenaeum’s, Azriel couldn’t help but imagine you in a similar display of passionate madness, when you forgot about the world around you and could actually relax.

The Alcove specialized in housing diaries and novels of everyday comforts - quiet, unassuming stories that could steal your heart as swiftly as the grandest tales of war and romance, but with much more discretion. Here, the knowledge pressed between pages with ink was full of warmth and subtlety. The others in your cohort had scorned you for your choice in The Alcove. Why would anyone choose such a dull place to live and work? Why not be surrounded by books on war tactics or history or religion or biology? Someplace useful and worthy of a Librarian’s gifts. But The Alcove had offered you something you’d missed since your mother’s death - a sense of home. 

You sat by the bay windows overlooking the darkened street below, breathing in the crisp and cool air that snuck in through the glass. On the other side of your apartment, a similar window overlooked The Alcove’s interior. Hundreds of mahogany shelves lined the high walls of the octagonal building with its signature domed roof. Grand staircases of gold twisted their way up from the ground, connecting to walkways that gave easier access to the volumes housed higher up the walls. 

It was a blessing in disguise that you’d chosen to sit on this side of your apartment. Otherwise you would have never seen the Shadowsinger watching you with careful consideration, his eyes faintly glowing like the eyes of a cat. He raised one gloved hand up at you in a wave, a solitary gesture as the rest of his companions and Helion walked towards the stairs that led up to your apartment entrance. 

He saw your mouth open in a shocked oh and couldn’t help the faintest smile gracing his lips as you disappeared from view.

“Oh shit.” You sprang up from your seat, eyes madly racing over the contents of your apartment. You were in the middle of a research project on magical signatures and your living space reflected the madness in your mind. Books lay open on the floor, on the desk, on the coffee table surrounded by carefully documented notes and half-scribbled ideas in equal measure. You wouldn’t be able to clean it up in time and, quite frankly, you had no interest in disrupting the chaotic organization. Did you really care about impressing the Night Court and Helion? 

The terrifying answer was, yes.

The dining room. 

It rarely saw use since you were disinclined to receive guests, and had more recently been repurposed to house stacks of romance novels… best not to let anyone see those… 

In the five minutes it took for Helion and the members of the Inner Circle to climb up the dozen flights of stairs, and knock on your door, you’d successfully managed to hide all the smutty romance books in your bedroom, throw a table cloth and candle on top of the dining table, put away the dried dishes that had been displaced on the kitchen countertops, and set a kettle on the stove. Was there anything more that could be done? 

Helion smiled brightly when you made your appearance, keeping the door slightly ajar to keep the worst of the living room out of sight. Perhaps this would be a short visit and they wouldn’t even ask to come inside.

“Y/n!” Helion said with a grin, “I present to you the Inner Circle of the Night Court.” He gestured with a grand flourish to some of the most beautiful fae you’d ever had the honor of witnessing.

“Some of us at least.” The High Lord’s voice was liquid honey and filled with enough charisma to seduce a nun.

“The most important ones.” The Lord of Bloodshed said with a boyish grin. The faint scar on his cheek pulled back with his smile.

“I’ll let Nesta know you said that.” The High Lady had swapped out her dress for a more simple pair of black slacks and a billowing shirt that cinched in at the waist, flowing over her body like smoke on water. 

“Wait, no. Feyre, I was only joking. Feyre-” 

She laughed, tipping her head back while her husband and mate looked on with a tenderness in his eyes you hadn’t expected to see. It wasn’t the love that shocked you so much as the casualness of it. High Lords and Lady’s - from the limited experience you had reading about them in books - were either unreadable or such outrageous flirts they looked ready to jump into the bones of anything that could stand upright or lay down for long enough. Both methods were appropriate to hide their true feelings, but Rhysand and Feyre seemed to take another approach entirely. 

Helion coughed when you made no move to introduce yourself, still shell-shocked at the caliber of guests currently at your door, “And to the Inner Circle of the Night Court, I present Y/n Y/l/n. My dear friend and one of the most talented researchers I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.” 

“We’ve heard so much about you.” Feyre said, moving forward on instinct to embrace you. She stopped immediately when she saw you flinch back, but recovered quickly, smiling brightly, “My name is Feyre, and this is my mate Rhysand,” The High Lord tipped an imaginary hat, “And his brothers, Cassian and Azriel.” 

“It’s an honor to meet you.” You said politely.

“The honor is all ours.” Rhysand said. He held Feyre closer to his side, one hand ghosting close to her stomach in memory of the child that had grown there not even two years ago. “Helion told us everything you did. Our daughter is alive and well thanks to you, as is my mate.” 

You blinked in surprise. You didn’t know Helion had told them about that. 

“Oh um, it was a joint effort. My High Lord is too kind.” You said with a respectful dip of your head and all at once your manners flooded into your brain again, “Please, come in.” 

You sheepishly opened the door further, allowing the two High Lords and High Lady to grace your apartment. The Illyrians crossed the threshold last. Muscular, leathery wings rippled with power and prestige and it was incredible they managed to stay upright, let alone keep them from dragging on the floor. 

You made a mental note to revisit some old anatomy texts on winged fae. 

“I um,” You hurried to the kitchen, hearing the kettle start to screech, “I apologize. I wasn’t prepared for guests.” The screaming stopped and you remembered that you didn’t have any matching tea sets. 

You reached into the cupboards, face blushing at the assortment of novelty mugs you’d acquired over the years. Hardly fit for a children’s tea party let alone some of the most powerful fae to have ever existed. 

“There will be no apologies from you, tonight, my dear.” Helion said with a charming smile, “Not after we’ve barged into your home uninvited and taken over your dining table.”

From over the island you saw that Helion had already settled down at the table, the others following suit. Everyone except for the Shadowsinger. 

He lingered by the kitchen archway, keeping a respectful distance as you poured boiling water into the teapot over a mixture of chrysanthemum and rosehip. 

“Would you like any help?” He gestured to the tray now loaded with the teapot, cups, and a platter of biscuits that shook in your hands. 

“Oh,” You stared at his outstretched hand, soft black leather molded over graceful fingers. “No, that’s alright. I can do it. But thank you for offering.” You stood face to face with him, silently begging him with your eyes to move to the table with the others so you wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences of touching him.

His hand quickly dropped to his side, then slid behind his back. You caught the flash of hurt in his eyes before he masked it. 

“There are some cookies in the living room!” You said a little too loudly, “On top of the coffee table. If-if you wouldn’t mind bringing those-” The Shadowsinger was already gone on his mission and you breathed a sigh of relief. 

There were more books on the floor than swords on a battlefield. Azriel stepped over them gently, careful not to disturb the precarious arrangement. Books on anatomy, microbiology, human medicine, and magical theory flared outward, tracing the path of Y/n’s mind. Azriel walked it with wonder at the brilliance hidden within the midnight thoughts that had been spilled on paper, before being organized later on with a loving hand. Because that’s what this all spelled out to him - some chaotic, maddening love. He was almost jealous not to be on the receiving end of it… almost.

He saw the platter on the table, but ignored it for the pile of books by the windowsill. These ones were different from the rest. Older and more worn. The bindings were cracked and flexible after being read hundreds of times. He could even trace the faint outlines of your fingers on the leather bindings where natural oils had eaten away at the dye. 

He read over the titles and committed them to memory for no other reason than the fact that he liked things that had been well loved. 

“I made a mistake don’t-” 

Azriel straightened up, color washing over his cheeks as he turned to face you in a sea of paper and leather. 

Without thinking, he’d fallen into old habits of poking through people’s belongings. There was a reason Rhysand had made him Spymaster of the Night Court after all. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

“Did you eat a cookie?” You blurted out in a panic. 

“No, no I didn’t.” 

Your shoulders dropped in relief, one hand brushing back your hair. Azriel caught sight of your ink stained fingertips, and the faint mark they left on your temple. 

“Oh thank the Mother.” You muttered under your breath, stealing a glance over your shoulder to the dining room where Helion was playing host in your stead and doing a far better job than you would have been capable of.

“Are they poisoned?” Azriel asked, but the joke fell flat upon seeing the horror in your face.

“No! No, that's not why-I should explain myself better. I would never dare try and poison you. Or anyone for that matter!” You scrunched your eyes shut, face burning brighter than the sun at noon.

I’m a fool. I’m making a fool of myself. He’s going to think I’m an absolute idiot. And right after Helion called me a gifted researcher. What a fucking lie.

Azriel, the blessing in disguise that he was, gave you a moment to collect yourself, pretending to find more interest in a volume on snake venom that was laid open on the ottoman. 

“A friend baked those for me.” You finally said. 

Azriel nodded, a faint smile gracing his face and it caught you off guard. He was beautiful, there was no doubting it so long as you had eyes. What had surprised you was the faint slivers of warmth behind the facade of the cold, brooding Shadowsinger. It was… surprisingly comforting to be standing in a room with him, just the two of you. It was certainly better than the party you’d unceremoniously winnowed out of earlier that day.

“I would never hold it against you if you wanted to save those for yourself.”

Your lips twisted in disgust, “Oh gods no, Cherp is a terrible cook.”

“Cherp?”

“He’s another Librarian I know.” Probably the closest thing to a friend I have. But you weren’t about to tell the Shadowsinger that. “He specializes in chemistry and food history.”

“He’s a food historian?”

“Yes.”

“And yet he’s a terrible cook?” The Shadowsinger tilted his head to the side. 

The corner of your mouth tipped up, “The worst.”

“How is that possible?”

You gave it a thought, eyes darting around the walls like the answer was hidden behind paint, “Do you know how many different types of eggs there are, um,” You weren’t sure what to call him.

“Azriel. Call me, Azriel.”

“Azriel.” You said, testing out the shape of his name. You liked it.

“Do you know how many different types of eggs there are, Azriel?”

He cocked his head to the side, “I do not.”

“Thousands, Azriel. Thousands. If I told you to bake a cake with an egg, would you know I meant a chicken egg?” This time you didn’t wait for an answer, “Because you’d be surprised how quickly facts we consider ‘common knowledge’ disappear. Will people know we meant chicken eggs 1 million years from now? Perhaps not! All this to say that when Cherp follows recipes, he usually doesn’t have the knowledge to make it correctly and they turn out bland at best, inedible and poisonous at worst.” 

Azriel tipped his head back and laughed, prompting you to explain further, “He once spent ten years researching the evolution of average spoon sizes because so many of his recipes were measured in spoonfuls.”

Azriel smirked, “Is this what you academics get yourselves so worried about?”

You couldn’t tell if he was ridiculing you or not, but the sincerity in his hazel eyes said he wasn’t. “Well we...among other things, yes, I suppose that is something we concern ourselves with…” 

“Y/n!” Helion called from the other room, “Stop romancing the Shadowsinger and join us at the table. It’s a futile effort. I’ve been trying for centuries.” 

Your face turned a brighter shade of red as you watched Azriel pick his way through the empty spots on the floor. You pressed yourself against the wall to let him pass, a fact that didn’t escape his notice. And when he took a seat at the table, you ignored the unoccupied seat next to him, preferring to stand behind the island like a woodland creature ready to dive into their den at a moment’s notice. 

His lips flattened. He’d hoped to make you more comfortable around him after the disastrous events at the party, going so far as to hide the shadows that were clamoring for release. He should’ve known better than to assume one conversation about the historical accuracy of egg recipes would make that discomfort go away.  

From your island you tossed pleasantries back and forth like it was a game. But you couldn’t help the stiffness in your posture, the hesitation in your voice when they asked you about your life.

“I’m a Librarian.” You’d first answered, as if it were all that needed to be said. But they pressed onwards, tried to make you laugh. Cassian, especially, liked to poke fun, and despite your best efforts, you laughed. 

“All these libraries would make Nesta go feral. She wouldn’t know what to do with herself.”

“What kind of books does she like to read?” You asked, refilling the kettle as the cloudy sky outside darkened into a rich purple-black.

Cassian coughed, face turning red, “Romance.” He answered simply.

“Smutty romance.” The High Lord said, punching Cassian in the arm. His face turned redder.

“Lucky you,” Helion said with a wink that had Feyre bursting out into laughter. It was no secret that Helion had added Nesta onto his list of fae he’d one day like to have in his bed.

“There is an athenaeum that specializes in romance, and there’s no shortage of those sorts of novels… if you’re interested.” You said, hiding your face behind a sip of tea. 

“And how would you know about that?” Feyre asked teasingly. 

“I… am a Librarian. I know-I know things.” You sputtered unconvincingly. “I went once. Purely for research purposes.” 

Azriel gave her a look, a look that said he somehow knew of the eight raunchy books that graced your bedside table and had been well-read indeed.

As the conversation evolved to less embarrassing topics, you were struck by the fact that you were actually enjoying yourself. It was a far cry from the parties that you’d previously been invited to. There was an ease to the Inner Circle. A familial love that flowed off them as easy as water off a whetstone. It was something you hadn’t experienced in quite some time.

Azriel noticed when you fell silent, your mind carried away to more sobering thoughts than Cassian’s most recent travels to the Human Lands. Feyre noticed as well and made her surprise at the time look natural and unscripted.

“Day Court members are early to bed and early to rise aren’t you? I’m sorry we’ve taken up so much of your time.” She said, gently pulling Rhysand up with her as she stood. 

“No, not at all. Thank you for coming. I-I hope your daughter is doing well.” Was that an appropriate thing to say? Perhaps it was too threatening to comment on the wellbeing of a High Lord and High Lady’s child. But Feyre didn’t find any fault with that, a glassy look sliding over her eyes as Mor let Feyre into her mind so she could look at little Velaria dozing away in her aunt’s arms back home.

“She’s getting to be more and more of a handful everyday.”

“I wonder where she gets that from?” Cassian chimed in, throwing Rhysand a look as they collected their coats and slowly made their way over to the front door.

Rhysand threw his hand to his chest in indignation, “I was practically an angel.” 

Cassian snorted, “More like the devil.” 

Feyre rolled her eyes, shuffling the pair out the door into the still night. 

Azriel once again lingered behind, the last to leave behind Helion. He stepped out into the night-chilled air, the edges of him disappearing like the darkness had come to reclaim him. 

“It was lovely to meet you, Y/n, the Librarian.” He said, dipping into a shallow bow.

“It was lovely to meet you, Azriel…the Shadowsinger.” 

He smiled shyly, then froze, the smile slipping off his face into a look of shock. You glanced over your shoulder, missing the explosion of shadows that spilled out from him. 

You leapt back upon feeling their cool touch wrapping around you. There was a curiosity to the way they wound themselves through your hair and got tangled up in the folds of your dress. But thankfully, they carried no memories with them. No feelings but a faint relief and comfort that washed over you and gave you back your breath. For the first time in years you were experiencing a touch that you could handle. A touch that was stillness and peace.

“Is everything alright?” You finally looked back at Azriel, his eyes blown open and panicked.

He was not a man of many words. Never had been, never would be. But he wished he could speak everything on his mind. 

You’re my mate. You’re my mate. You’re my mate. You’re the one I’ve been waiting over 500 hundred years for. 

But when he saw the concern in your eyes, the gentle tilt of your head that exposed the curve of your neck, he knew it wasn’t the time.

“I-I have to go.” 

This time it was his turn to disappear. He swallowed his words, forced down the bond that now burned in his chest with the light of a thousand suns, and fled past the shocked faces of his family members before shooting off into the night sky.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Does this batboy deserve a nerdy mate to tease and have fun with? Yes. I will take no criticism (just kidding if you have thoughts about how my writing is, let me know, just be kind and respectful about it).

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @rosebunnysblog @icey--stars @laceandsuch @coralseacourt @cherryinsalemverse @flowerprincezz @valeridarkness @annaaaaa88 @deeshag @bluesiphonsbaby @allyjoe755 @sidthedollface2 2@auggiesolovey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @transparentmoonglitter @ang-taylorsversion @ssmay123 @just-m-2 @sevikas-whore @lalaluch @svtwonwoow @user707sthings @cherryinsalemverse @evylynny @decrepit-bees-knees @eleganttravelercloud @ghostwritermia @smitty-werbenjagermenjenson @fussel9913 @st0rmyt

[takumiraine]

Once Upon a Time chapter 9

Danny is still going through it, but it gets better I promise.

Taku note: jesus fuck putting the links in on these ones was a beast. I actually had to LOG IN to tumblr on my COMPUTER. ick.

<first> <prev> <next>

There is some texting abbreviations here. The abbreviations are: B, meaning Bruce, obviously. It is saved as just ‘B’ in his phone. R, meaning Replacement which is Tim. Tim is saved as Replacement. DB is Damian, saved as Demon Brat. D, is Dick, and is just saved as an eggplant emoji in Jason’s phone. This may or may not be relevant later.

—-

Okay. Okay. He needs a plan. He needs to think and form a plan. He needs a computer. He grabs a notebook. Scrambles around his upturned apartment until he finds a pen. Starts writing equations. The equations will solve to binary numbers. Each one a different letter. His brain is humming. He double checks his work. Triple checks it. Tears the page out.

Checks the work again.

He grabs a bit of his remaining cash. Climbs out onto his fire escape. Phases his hand through the glass to carefully reset the trap.

Move on silent feet, sticking to shadows. Hoodie on and hood over his head. Silent and fast. Alert. Find an Internet cafe. Buy an hour of computer time. Log onto the conspiracy site. Send a new private message.

Carefully type in the equations with shaking hands. Time ticks by so slowly and yet so fast. Equations come back to him. Solve. Translate. Read. Send more back. More frantic than before. They have to run. They have to hide. They cannot come here.

He received a picture of a chocolate bar in return.

They’re coming here. They’re coming. They’re coming and Danny can’t stop it. Can’t stop any of it.

He deletes the messages. Logs out of the website. Clears the history. Takes the paper. Leaves the building. Burns the paper to ash.

Hears a van. Pulls his hood further down over his head. Has to get to the observatory. That was the agreed upon meeting place. Has to get there. Has to hide.

Has to find a way to keep them safe. He’s out of practice. He doesn’t have the upper hand. He’s so scared. Scared for his friends. He gets to the observatory. It’s dark in there. Locked. Danny finds a ladder. Climbs. On the roof. The dome is solid. Cold. Damp. He sits in the shadow of the lens. He waits.

Time moved. Time stood still. Heavy cloud cover meant he couldn’t watch the passage of time in the moon and stars. That was Gotham. Last clear night or day was a long time ago. Danny couldn’t breathe.

Loud footsteps. He pressed himself deeper into the shadows.

“D…?” The voice was familiar. Danny peered out into the darkness, and saw two familiar faces.

“Tuck… Sam…” he croaked, voice raw like he had just spent hours Wailing.

“Hey Danny, good to see you.” Sam sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The Fenton Creep Stick laid across her lap. Tucker came to join them, sitting on his other side and rifling around in his backpack. Before Danny could process it, a couple high protein granola bars and a bottle of strawberry pedialyte was put on his lap.

“Eat. Panicking burns calories and you need them.” Tucker insisted, nudging him gently. Already Danny felt the panic subsiding, leaving him exhausted. He ate the protein bars mechanically, forcing himself to focus on the taste and the feel of them between his teeth. He needed the nutrients desperately. After the protein bars were eaten, Danny chilled the bottle of strawberry drink and popped the cap off, chugging it.

“Alright. Now that you’re sort of fed and hydrated, breathe. You know I love the whole dead vibe as much as the next girl, but you’re still half human.” Sam rubbed his leg with her free hand and Tucker rubbed his back. It was soothing and almost involuntarily he took a deep breath in and out, then another, and another. He felt his mind settle. When he could finally think clearly again, he pulled them both close in a hug.

“Ancients, I’ve missed you guys…”

“Us too man. Us too,” Tucker agreed, squeezing Danny back just as tightly.

“Now, not to turn you back onto a doom spiral, but what the hell happened?” Sam asked once they pulled back from the embrace.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story. But I’ll tell you everything.” And Danny did. He started with getting enrolled in school, which they knew, because Tucker helped. Then with the cute guy that befriended him out of nowhere, and although he kept the name to himself, Sam clocked his crush almost immediately.

“It’s okay Danny, I have a radar for that. You were in love with me for how many years now?” She teased. “I am now able to spot a Danny-crush from a hundred yards.”

Tucker laughed with her and Danny groaned putting his head back in his hands. “I hate you so much sometimes…” he moaned.

“Yeah we love you too buddy.” Tucker patted him again. “Keep going with the story.”

He did. The tutoring, the meetings with red hood, and then finally, the week before and that evening. Again he left out the fact that he recognized Hood’s real identity. Sam and Tucker wouldn’t tell, but he couldn’t out another hero in good conscience. Even if they were fighting.

“Shit man.” Tucker scooted himself closer, while Sam did the same on his other side. “That was…”

“I’d rather fight Skulker and Technus together without my powers or a thermos…” he mumbled, pulling his knees to his chest and pressing his face into them.

“Okay. So here’s what we’re going to do. Tucker is going to make sure none of his trip lines have been tripped, I’m gonna make sure no creeps sneak up on us here. You’re gonna take a nap. You look like you’re about ready to drop dead again.” Danny nodded into his knees, and Tucker got out his pda and got to work.

Slowly, Danny’s breathing evened and slowed then stopped almost completely. Having his friends nearby meant he was safe. Safety meant sleep.

Jason was out looking. He started at Danny’s apartment, but he wasn’t answering, there was no sound of movement, the thermals were all ambient, so he moved on.

The longer he looked the more he realized, he barely knew anything about Danny. Danny was great at hedging around questions about himself. Turning the conversation back to Jason, or topics that were safe. The weather, the best places to get burgers, the best type of tree to climb, the best dangerous animal to be freed from the zoo. That last topic was courtesy of Damian but…

Then Jason remembered. They had been eating outside after dark. Danny had looked up at the sky and sighed, then pointed fries accusingly at Jason. “Your dad is like, richer than anyone else here right? He should really do something about all this smog. Seeing the stars at night is one of life’s great pleasures.”

“You could go to the observatory,” Jason had suggested, fairly used to Danny occasionally having ideas for Bruce’s money without any real interest in using it for himself. Always for the betterment of the city as a whole.

“That’s a last resort option. Nothing beats constellation spotting laying on a rooftop. You should be able to see Orion’s Belt over….” Danny looked up at the sky, head shifting as he oriented himself to north and then pointing “over there, somewhere.”

“Well, I’ll bring it up and see what WE has in the works for ecological initiatives.” Jason had said, taken in by how certain Danny was. He could have been bullshitting Jason, but sure enough when he looked it up later, Danny had the right idea, even if he was a few degrees off in his estimation.

Not having any better idea, Jason sped off towards the observatory.

Danny had been asleep for maybe an hour when the motorcycle was heard pulling up. Tucker turned off his modified PDA, the backlight in the screen would have given them away in a heartbeat.

Once the motorcycle turned off though, Sam woke up Danny. He woke with a silent start, looking around to see what had alarmed his friends. When he felt the familiar press of another halfa’s core he pressed a hand to each of their knees and wrote a small smiley face on them. Danny did not miss the way Sam’s grip on the creep stick tightened.

Jason didn’t immediately think anything of the observatory as he circled it. There were two hot spots on the roof that were likely just horny teenagers. He would make his loop and then head off. At least, that was the plan until he spotted the ice cold person shape between the two warmer ones.

Nobody ran that cold except Danny.

Jason stood at the base of the ladder and considered his options. He didn’t know who Danny was up there with. He didn’t know if Danny was in danger. Though the pit in him wasn’t any more riled up than it normally was. He didn’t know if Danny would throw his ass right off the roof. There wasn’t anything around here for him to grapnel onto if he was.

‘I did not know your trip into the pit made you a coward, Todd’ he could hear Damian taunt in his head.

Shaking the thought of his brother off, Jason climbed the ladder. The moment his helmet popped over the roof Danny’s eyes were fixed on him. “Go away J-Hood.”

Jason was momentarily surprised, Danny had obviously not expected him to come in costume, but corrected himself fairly flawlessly. Not outing him to the two people who were holding him protectively. Must be Sam and Tucker.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Are these your friends?” He asked, not moving any further up the ladder. Danny nodded, continuing to glare over his knees.

“Sam and Tucker. They knew me… before everything else.”

Jason nodded. Climbed up enough to get a good look. “I have a safe house nearby. Can we go there and talk?”

“Is more of your little guano group” Sam snickered at the name and Tucker gave Danny a fist bump, “going to hunt me down if I don’t?”

“No. But you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Danny looked between his friends for a minute, before slowly uncurling and standing, helping his friends up. “Fine.”

Once they were all on the ground they walked to the safe house, a couple blocks away. Once they were inside, Jason pulled off the helmet.

“Jason Todd. Also known as Red Hood.”

He noticed Sam give Danny a look, and he made a face back at her. Tucker rolled his eyes. “You talk to the Bat?” Danny asked, rather than confront his friend.

“Yeah. But that’s not the important part. After we talked tonight Oracle noticed something. The firewall was an automatic scoop. Anything related to your parents’….hobby got thrown into a…. Technological bucket. It’s why your messages never made it to the League.”

Danny took a step back, and Sam and Tucker automatically moved closer, supporting him. “You…. Heard the messages?”

“There was video too. Of… an attack.”

“Of course those assholes were filming it.” Sam tightened her grip on the creep stick as she spoke. Danny raised a shaking hand to his face, feeling for something. His eyes had gone unfocused.

Damn it. Jason took a step forward and Danny flinched, the air going cold. “Easy D.” Tucker soothed. “You’re in Gotham. We’re gonna go sit.” Sam and Tucker bullied Danny to the couch. Tucker sat next to him, while Sam stood in front of them protectively. When she caught Jason trying to look around her she snapped to get his attention.

“Hey, Danny needs some water. About 35 degrees if you have it that cold, cold as you have otherwise.” The snapping and hyper specific orders placed her in his memory. Samantha Manson. Daughter of the Amity Mansons. They attended a few Galas when she was younger. She was very insistent on her veganism even then.

Jason wasn’t about to argue with a woman holding a bat. If Sam was anything like his brothers, she knew how to use it even before the vigilante training.

He brought Danny water, tap with a couple of ice cubes, and passed it to Tucker, who was still talking quietly to Danny. Danny was nodding and occasionally giving a thin half smile, but was able to hold the glass on his own and sip from it.

“We need a plan.” Danny said after he finished drinking.

“Batman wants to talk to you.” Jason told him, which got Danny opening his mouth to protest.

“First,” Sam interrupted, looking at Danny then at Jason, “Tucker is going to do his checks, Danny is going to sleep, and we are going to wait.”

“I don’t need to sleep.” Danny crossed his arms, protesting.

“And Dash didn’t shove you in a locker at least once a week.” Tucker’s response was combined with an eye roll. “You look like you just went a dozen rounds with Skulker without your powers. You need pizza rolls and a nap.”

“You make me sound like I’m a kindergartener.”

“I think I have pizza rolls.” Jason interrupted the protest. “I’ll kill the lights, make the brat’s pizza rolls for you and you just lay there until they’re done.”

Danny scowled at Jason for hanging up on him but as Tucker slid off the couch onto the floor in front of him, Danny obediently laid down. As Jason pulled the bag out of the freezer and started the oven heating, he watched Danny’s breathing slow down and even out, then stop altogether.

Sam followed his gaze and took Danny’s sleeping form in quickly before peering at what Tucker was doing. Seeing that the people Danny knew the longest weren’t concerned about his lack of visible breathing, Jason settled a bit, texting the family chat.

From J: so I found Danny. But he has backup now. He managed to get in contact with his friends.

From B: Are you on your way?

From J: no. He was freaking out. Right now he’s asleep on the couch and I’m making pizza rolls.

From DB: Excuse me zombie child, those happen to be mine.

From J: Better learn to share now before you learn the hard way like Dickie, Timber and I did.

From B: Jason, please.

From J: what? It’s not a lie. He’s the fourth Robin that we know about.

From DB: I am the best. I will not be replaced.

From R: idk Dami, the new kid has black hair, blue eyes and a troubled past. He’s adoption bait. Hopefully he didn’t lie about his age and really is older than you.

From D: it’s never easy having to hand over the spandex and cape to a younger more dangerous Robin.

From DB: So you admit that I am the best.

From D: no I said you were younger and more dangerous than we were as Robin. Except for maybe Jay. He liked to bite criminals.

From J: hey! They were the idiots who put their hands near my face. I grew up hungry. You eat what you can.

From B: Before this gets more out of hand, Jason, do you know about when you will be arriving?

From J: probably going to leave here in 45 minutes to an hour. I will let you know.

Jason was going to take his time cooking those pizza rolls correctly. He wasn’t going to let them ooze out everywhere, then they would have to cool so when Danny inevitably wolfed them down he wouldn’t scorch his mouth. Allow for some wake up time…

Jason was completely, and understandably in his opinion, giving Danny as much time before the meet the family scene happened. The guy had been through enough.

[oatmealwrites]

Catch Kira, NOT Feelings! Ch. 5

Part 4 | Part 6 -> Coming soon

Series masterlist here

Regular masterlist here

Tags: L is jealous af, Light is as manipulative as ever, Aizawa cockblock pt 2., fake dating to the max, makeout (FINALLY), mentions of arousal (m and f), reader knows there's no way this can be 'fake', L is pining and down horrendous, MDNI, 18+ series

Synopsis: Another tape from the Second Kira arrives at the task force and the group is left wondering what the next moves is. In the meantime, members are becoming increasingly suspicious of the dynamic between you and L. With increased jealousy and stakes higher than ever, Ryuzaki decides it's time to double-down on this 'fake-dating' plan.

Word count: 7.4k

[a/n at the end]

~~~~~~~

The Aoyama plan ended less awkwardly than it had started, thankfully. Aside from the usual rowdy groups that occasionally walked the streets, there was nothing suspicious to report back at all, making the day relatively tame. And before you and L could fully sit and analyze all the CCTV footage of cafe windows and restaurant ratios, Shibuya had rolled around with similar poor luck. It was like Kira just decided to let the Second make these invitations before effectively ghosting them without response. 

Tokyo Dome was the last event with a chance of either Kira making a move, and with security already ramped up for the upcoming date, the task force was left analyzing every detail from the previous attempts; no rock left unturned, no camera left unchecked. 

It’s been roughly 3 nights since Aoyama and 3 nights since you’ve begun this charade with L. Considering the both of you were already hiding the notebook theory, adding another secret to the list hadn’t seemed daunting at first. Though as you sit in your usual spot in the center of the task force couch between Mogi and Light, Aizawa’s glare on you is colder than usual.

“Alright, and then what happened Matsuda?” Ryuzaki asks, before popping a chocolate covered strawberry in mouth.

Matsuda thinks for a moment and shrugs with a sad sigh. “Well, I tripped on the sidewalk and spilled my water all over the cool shirt I bought for the mission.”

It’s nothing important or helpful, but the team nods in comprehension as everyone reviews their own respective reports from the day. Focusing on your own documents is nearly impossible; everytime you look up, Aizawa is staring between you and L as if you were zoo animals before non-discreetly looking away.

You peer over to Ryuzaki who is slipping another chocolatey fruit between his lips and give a mental ‘help me out here’ with your gaze. Juice running down his chin, L looks at you wide eyed for a moment, processing the situation, before glancing over at your colleague unamused.

“Ah, Aizawa. Did anything from the security reports stand out to you?”

Idiot. He’s a world famous detective but can’t understand basic social cues??

Your attempts to avoid attention from the man are effectively reversed as Aizawa glances between you and Ryuzaki with a mix of pissed off and disgust.

He crosses his arms. “Well…no. I had actually had trouble focusing that day.”

Mogi sighs empathetically and leans in. “I know it must be hard considering your family.”

Aizawa huffs and nods in disbelief while you’re questioning if this room full of detectives really is the last hope at finding Kira. Sinking further in your seat, you glance down at the papers Light is flipping through and take notice that this is quietest he’s been in a while. Taking a small sip of coffee while Aizawa grits out a fake story about his family life as reasoning to Mogi, you nudge your friend’s shoulder.

“Everything good?”

“Huh?” Light looks up and blinks a few times as if he hadn’t been paying attention to anything the past 10 minutes. “Oh, y-yea. Just didn’t sleep much is all.”

You raise an eyebrow but notice the puffiness of his eyes before shrugging and turning back to the group; Mr. Yagami begrudgingly consoles Matsuda that he’ll have plenty more opportunities to do fieldwork and not ruin his clothing. 

Ryuzaki sits up and flicks the remote to broadcast the walking path Light and Matsuda had taken while sucking some stray strawberry juice from the base of his thumb. It shouldn’t be erotic. You shouldn’t find it anything but normal considering him. But the vulgar sight of it makes an uncomfortably familiar feeling stir before his eyes meet yours with an unreadable stare. The two of you hold it for a moment until you finally find the ability to peel your gaze back to the screen.

“This is the path that Matsuda and–”

“--Ryuzaki.” The hotel door opens and Watari swiftly enters inside with a laptop tucked under his arm. “I’m sorry for the interruption, but there’s another tape sent from the Second Kira.”

Shit.

The group falls silent before scrambling to set up the screen to mirror the laptop and adjust the speakers for the audio; the room is completely silent when L hit ‘play’.

‘I have found Kira.’

Worried eyes glance off the screen and around the group while Light sits motionless at your side; everyone is thinking the same question. You turn your head to Ryuzaki who looks away from the TV and meets your gaze, a silent ‘how?’ floats silently between you both. Aside from the minor hiccup when Aizawa interrupted, there wasn’t a moment when you two weren’t staring at the monitors, watching every angle in real time.

In silence, he leans forward to resume the message. 

‘To all of the people at the television station and the police, thank you very much.’

The video ends abruptly and the group collectively turns between each other in shock and confusion. You look between Ryuzaki and Light for a moment, watching the way they both seem to be completely lost in thought and concentration.

“Watari.” You turn towards the elderly man who stands behind you on the couch. “When was this sent?”

He peers down naturally. “It arrived today, but was postmarked from the 22nd, y/n.”

The day after Aoyama?

Desperate sighs at the information flood the room while Matsuda sits looking guilty.  “That’s right after Light and I walked the streets… how could we miss it?”

Mr. Yagami clears his breath and places a reassuring hand on his colleague’s shoulder. “It’s not anyone’s fault. Can we assume based on this message that both Kira’s have already teamed up? If they’re working together, it may have been impossible to notice their interaction.”

Light furrows his brows in thought, most likely recalling the memories of Aoyama for a moment when he would’ve seen anything suspicious; before you can offer help, you notice the way Ryuzaki’s gaze is locked onto the man. L takes the nail he chews out from his teeth and looks at Mr. Yagami.

“No, the tape only mentioned finding the original Kira, not coordinating.”

You sit forward. “So it’s possible they’ve never interacted then?”

Ryuzaki glances at Light once more before turning to the group. “That’s correct. And if that suspicion is true, this Second Kira has a keen eye for identification that we don’t have.”

Aizawa sighs and rubs his temples. “We spent hours watching CCTV with no detail looking strange along with dozens of officers undercover, and Light and Matsuda walking. How could we miss it?”

L takes another chocolate fruit from the coffee table and bites into it, catching the solidified candy outing when it cracks. “No, it’s not that we missed anything. It’s that we couldn't see it.”

Mogi raises an eyebrow and Light finally speaks up from his trance. “What? What do you mean by that?”

You flip through your documents while Ryuaki pauses to chew, scanning through the papers until the diary entry for the Tokyo Dome comes into view. “Wait, you mean like from this event? It mentions the Second Kira seeing a Shinigami at the Dome… so Shinigami is code for witnessing something?”

Light pauses, opens his mouth, and then shuts it again; L sits listening to your explanation.

“Yea, and since Shinigami aren’t real… or like we could never see it, it’s code for something only Kiras can see?” Mogi asks while scratching his chin.

“Yes, both of you are in the same direction of deduction as myself. It’s clear this Second Kira is especially keen on detail and observation; something we should be extremely wary about.” L pauses and then turns to Light. “Though the concrete evidence of the tapes being sent on the 23rd do look rather peculiar for you, Light.”

“Enough. Matsuda was with him the entire time! Second Kira could have seen anyone that day; maybe not even in Aoyama, if it was a false clue.”Mr. Yagami stands up and crosses his arms while Watari walks around him to bring a fresh set of coffee cups to the table.

Light sighs beside you, “Dad, it makes sense L is suspicious.” He turns to L. “Ryuzaki, doesn’t the fact that nothing happened that day make you feel any better?”

Mogi raises an eyebrow. “Like, the fact that no one died? Trust me Light, I don’t think it’s you… but nothing happening while everyone is watching you doesn’t exactly prove anything.”

You shake your head and place your documents on the table. “No, Light means that nothing happened when the Second Kira saw him…–Assuming you’re Kira of course,” you add in, to avoid pressuring the topic.

Ryuzaki places the now empty small dessert plate on the coffee table. He takes the stem of cherry from his mouth and sighs while looking up with a slightly depressive tone. “Yes, exactly. The concrete evidence makes it highly convenient that the day after you set out trying to draw out the Second Kira, we get a message… but the fact that we don’t know the deciding factor in how they spotted Kira makes things a bit difficult.”

Mr. Yagami sits down with a frustrated exhale. “So are we now facing two Kiras that could soon be cooperating?”

L looks over at the man. “Potentially, and if that’s the case we’re going to need to be even more cautious than ever. But, assuming they really have only seen Kira– we can hope there is room for negotiation.”

Light shifts and raises an eyebrow, already following along with an annoyed expression. “Let me guess, we make a response demanding information on Kira in exchange for something?”

“Precisely. We can’t shorten a sentence given their murders, but we can offer a less intense version of punishment.”

Aizawa snorts sarcastically. “Oh, so we offer the comfiest jail cell in Japan for their lifetime sentence? We’re seriously going to negotiate with a serial killer?”

Ryuzaki ignores the comment and nods to confirm his decision while you glance over at your friend. “It’s our only option –we can’t make another fake Kira message since we don’t know their exact level of contact.”

Light sighs. “That’s true too. If we send a fake Kira tape to the Second Kira demanding something they have already discussed… it would jeopardize everything..”

“Ok, so we’ll make it a police announcement regardless,” Mr. Yagami sighs before glancing at Ryuzaki with an exhausted expression. “Can we take a quick recess, please?”

Mogi rises before the group effectively disperses, “I’ll be retrieving the DNA returns on the tapes this week. If we’re going to make a move, it may be beneficial to do it now before we essentially make an arrest for whoever’s fingerprints are on the tapes.” 

Ryuzaki nods in approval while members split off to stretch, smoke, grab food, and make phone calls to their family; L stands and motions to the bedroom door once more.

“Can I have a word?”

You rise to your feet and stretch side to side while Aizawa looks up from his phone with a stiff expression; he shudders slightly when you make eye contact before spinning around to continue his call. Matsuda looks up from the front door in confusion at L’s private invitation before Aizawa shoves him forward to exit with a grunted sigh. “Nah, let’s get out of here.”

Walking to the room, and slipping inside to resume your usual mini meeting with L, you shut the door while Ryuzaki paces back and forth in thought. You head towards the bed and jump up to the mattress, crossing your legs comfortably as you sit on the plush hotel comforter.

“It’s obvious that the Second Kira witnessed Kira during Aoyama… but how? How did they see something we didn’t?”

You watch the way he paces with a nail tucked between his teeth and shrug lightly. “Well if they didn’t meet, should we re-watch all the CCTV tapes with angles of cafes where customers stayed further from the street? Like inside through windows or patios tucked away from the footpaths?”

Ryuzaki stops and sighs. “Yes, we’ll need to redistribute videos to everyone to review once more given our theory.”

“And what about the ‘notebooks’?”

He stops and heads over to the bed, leaning against the mattress a few feet away from you. “Not yet. We need a little more information considering there were no fatalities at any of the events thus far. If our theory is notebooks being references to killing and there’s no body… we may need to reevaluate the usage of the term.”

You exhale and flop backwards onto the bed casually; the pillows and sheets are all perfectly arranged indicating Ryuzaki hasn’t been sleeping recently. The routine of these mini meetings is so normal that the crease in the comforter from where you sit is always in the same indentation as from the day before. 

“Everytime we get any information on either Kira, it feels like we’re even more lost than before.”

Ryuzaki nods and looks at the analog clock that ticks absentmindedly in the background; you sit up on your elbows and take in his appearance. The usual baggy long sleeve white tee draps his frame, and his baggy jeans are hanging low enough to show the elastic band of his boxers; everytime he raises his hand to bite the nail, a small part of the ‘V’ on his abdomen is revealed. 

You peel your eyes away and look up at the room ceiling. “What do we do about… this? Catching Kira may take a lot longer than we think… so–”

The words trail off and you look back at the man leaning against the mattress; he has the slightest dust of pink on his cheeks. “Huh, oh– we can continue. If it’s not uncomfortable.”

You stare at the way he’s refusing to make eye contact and fully sit upright once more. “Isn’t it only a matter of time before Aizawa slips up? Or the rest of the ground catches on? Matsuda already noticed…”

Ryuzaki shrugs and finally peels his eyes off the scattered papers on his desk and rests them on you. “I thought you said you didn’t mind if people thought you and I were… together?”

“Well–” you blush slightly and tuck your chin into your chest. “I don’t care if they think you and I are dating. It’s just a personal thing to have everyone know– especially when this is the one group we’re supposed to be totally honest with.”

Ryuzaki grunts slightly, “Well, given my suspicion of Light, my trust in this group isn’t exactly at 100%… but I agree they are the closest people I’ve been open with. Aizawa’s immediate belief in our rushed excuse holds a lot of weight, and I don’t take that for granted.”

You watch him silence as he continues. “But, it’s for the best if they think shallowly about what we do for now. If Light actually is Kira, it would be best to have him think we’re secretly in love rather than plotting his arrest. And unfortunately that means the rest of the task force as well– many already are hostile to the idea of Light being guilty.”

A sigh escapes as you hum in agreement, but you bring your chin into your chest once again; your gaze drops to the floor. Ryuzaki holds your glance as he leans further on the bed, the mattress shifting downwards at the weight.

“You’re still questioning my suspicions on Light, aren’t you?”

Seeing right through as always, he leans further into the space while you shrug in defeat. “No, that’s not it…It’s more like I feel guilty for believing you.”

He watches in silence while you work it out further. “It would be like if someone told me they thought you were Kira. It feels so weird to entertain the idea; let alone work towards achieving it. Even if I do believe it.”

L tilts his head to the side and leans even closer to your position, dark locks of hair kissing his cheekbones at the movement. “Ah really? I would hope you’d be a little more upset if you heard the news that your ‘boyfriend’ was suspected of being a serial killer.”

A laugh escapes your lips and a grin spreads across your lips despite the attempt at remaining somber and melancholic. You roll your eyes and lightly shove him to the slide. “Oh my God, was that a joke?”

Ryuzaki smiles slightly, his eyes on your lips and cheeks a pale pink. “Just because I have superior critical thinking skills than most doesn’t mean I’m devoid of humor.”

You uncross your arms and sit a little lighter, still grinning from the playful tone of the conversation. L admires your now less-stressed expression and takes a casual breath, his tone a bit more serious.

“I’m sure it’s hard to be suspicious of your ‘friend’... But please trust in my and your own reasoning skills a bit longer.”

“Mm,” you exhale slowly, and look up at the man, your gaze now more confident than earlier. “Of course… as long as it takes.”

For the second time in the conversation, Ryuzaki’s gaze falls down to your lips and his attention lingers there. Subconsciously wetting your lips and analyzing the expression of his face, you’re brought back to the day watching CCTV of Aoyama. The way he’s looking at you, taking in each meticulous expression of your face, leaves his pupils dilated, further darkening his eyes.

You’re left wondering if this is the moment you discuss what the hell is going on between you both. It’s obvious, isn’t it? At least to detectives. You know that your relationship with Ryuzaki is more casual than with everyone else… except maybe Light, but the frequency that this man is on your mind is clearly more than platonic. At least to you.

Looking into his eyes, you realize there’s no use in wondering what the hell is happening in that mind of his; his brain is always working out a million different scenarios faster than anybody else. 

“Listen, y/n.. I think–”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Ryuzaki and you both jump, but don’t immediately back away from each other; L takes an extra moment to take in the proximity, his eyes scanning your face one last time before sitting back.

“Yes?”

“Please tell me you two aren’t….doing anything.”

You roll your eyes at the sound of Aizawa’s voice now interrupting for the second time, and hop off the bed to open the bedroom door. He shuffles inside with a hand covering his eyes while you scoff and move to lean against the bed next to L.

“Are you two dressed?”

“Yes.” You drone, arms crossed.

“Both of you?”

Ryuzaki sighs gruffly, “Yes, now what do you need?”

Aizawa drops his hands and takes a document from under his arm; he holds it up and begins paraphrasing. “Basically, we got a response from Sakura TV about airing a response. We need to send in a tape tonight or their schedule will be too tight to fit in our message.”

You huff in frustration. “Seriously? It’s a message from the police regarding the biggest case of the century and they aren’t able to air it on call?”

Aizawa puts his hands up and tucks the paper back under his arm. “Don’t shoot the messenger, ok?” He turns to exit. “Just finish up... whatever you two were doing and I’ll have the group ready to resume in two.”

The door clicks behind him and being alone in the room with L suddenly feels extremely vulnerable. It’s easy when it’s unspoken and mysterious; Aizawa’s point of calling out the behavior makes it suddenly feel real.

“So…” You drop your arms and play with the hem of your button up work shirt, the space quiet except for the clock ticking away in the background. 

Ryuzaki stands upright and lets out a long sigh before pushing back his hair in thought; the strands immediately fall back down to their tousled position as soon as his fingers leave his scalp. He looks over at you and opens his mouth once to speak before shutting it again.

“Let’s head back to the meeting…? I’m sure everyone is ready to resume.” You stand upright and head for the door.

Ryuzaki stands motionless as he watches you open and prop open the door, a phrase on the tip of his tongue; he swallows it and makes his way to you. “Yes, let’s head back now.”

The rest of the meeting consists of drafting an official police response for the Second Kira, sorting out the arrest protocol for the DNA results, and dividing up CCTV angles for review. Hours pass by until it’s nearing midnight and yawns begin escaping all of you.

“Alright, let me review this one last time before we call it here.” Mr. Yagami stands and looks down at the paper in his hands. “We are urging the Second Kira to come forward with information on Kira. We are willing to negotiate your sentences if you choose to side with justice and the innocent people of this world. Do not approach Kira out of curiosity; it will get you killed.”

Mr. Yagami drops the paper on the table and the group nods wearily in exhaustion; no one makes any move to complain about the script. Matsuda yawns again, louder than before, and the group collectively looks over at Ryuzaki for permission to end the meeting.

He takes a moment to re-listen to the script in his mind before exhaling and rising to his feet. “Alright, good job everyone. We can call the meeting for tonight– Watari, please send this to Sakura TV, along with a few other major stations, to air during their evening broadcasts.”

Hushed sighs of gratitude escape the group and everyone moves to hastily pack up and head home. Ryuzaki watches the tired movement of his colleagues and turns to nod at Watari. “We’ll also be starting a bit later tomorrow. There’s a few matters I have to attend to by myself in the afternoon… so please rest properly.”

Matsuda’s eyes widen in a giddy surprise at sleeping in while Mogi looks at L a bit curiously; no one wants to question the extra time off though. With a tired yawn and gentle wave, you bid Ryuzaki goodnight and follow the group into the lobby; Watari types something quickly on his lap top before escorting you to the familiar black Mercedes, ready to bring you home.

~~~~~~~

It’s roughly 2:15 in the afternoon when your lecture finally lets out for the day, the professor running over time to further explain the final paper that was rapidly approaching. A paper you have yet to even start given your other priorities at the moment. 

You stand outside the student facilities building, the crowd too thick to bother waiting in line for the cafeteria. Hmmm maybe a cafe for late lunch?

Flipping through your contacts on your actual phone, you re-read the message sent by Light earlier in the day.

‘I’ve got an exam today that lets out at 2:30 if you still want to get coffee’

You really could wait for him, but the rumble in your stomach leaves you tempted to simply send him the address of casual restaurant once you find one. Settling to do exactly that, you push off the vending machine you were leaning against and make your way down the campus quad. 

Groups of students shuffle together as they walk, and you pull your jacket closer to your body when a breeze picks up. Music playing in your headphones and mind focused on finding food, you barely register the man sitting awkwardly on a university bench facing the footpath.

Nearly tripping over yourself in a double take, the man dressed in an oversized off-white sweatshirt to stay warm, light wash baggy jeans, with a baseball hat and sunglasses is clearly Ryuzaki. Catching yourself before you can fall onto the bricks, he turns his head in your direction and parts his mouth in a happy-surprised expression. Instantly, he stands up and makes his way to you, slipping his hand around your waist when he approaches; his fingers still tremble the moment he makes contact.

Your mind begins to short circuit before you raise an eyebrow and stare at him incredulously. “What the hell? What are you doing here??”

His grip on your waist tightens a slight bit as he guides you down the footpath past groups of students. “What? I can’t see my girlfriend in between classes?”

His voice is whispered and despite the attempt at acting casual, he’s as stiff as a board next to you as his body is pressed against your own. You blink a few times in silence as your brain is focused on only two things:

We aren’t really dating

Is this not supposed to be lowkey to only appease the task force?

Peeking at his typical unreadable expression behind his glasses, you sigh in defeat and pivot to take his hand in yours in an attempt to lessen the anxiety in his stance. His hands are smooth but extremely cold; his body relaxes a bit at the distance, but his cheeks are pink at the action.

“Of course not. I’m just surprised to see you here is all.”

Ryuzaki swallows thickly causing his Adam’s apple bobs at the motion; you stare at the erotic sight and have to peel your eyes off his throat to avoid looking too obvious. With his hand still securely holding your own, he tugs you gently down a stray path and towards a more secluded part of campus. You follow contently at his side as he leads you to an empty area near a tree on the quad; his hand doesn’t release yours when you both stop.

“Ok, I need to let you know something important. I’ve been having Mogi trail Light recently.”

You stand next to him and lean against the tree raising an eyebrow “Huh? Wasn’t that mine, then Matsuda’s job?”

Ryuzaki rolls his eyes from over his glasses and turns his attention to the emptier walking path; his eyes scanning each person walking by. “Just– listen, ok?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, L huddles a bit closer to you after peeling his stare off the students passing by. “This needed to be in person in case either one of them is here, ok? A woman stopped by Light's house last night.”

You open your eyes in surprise and tilt your head to the side slightly. “Takada? The one I mentioned a few weeks ago?”

Ryuzaki shakes his head and  stands upright to hover over you, blocking your vision of the campus; he’s effectively shielding you from anyone else seeing you as they walk.

“No, this one doesn’t match your description. Mogi described her as blonde with a dark gothic attire; does that match anyone you’ve seen on campus before?”

He blocks your line of sight when you lean to peer around him at the quad; you raise an eyebrow and lean back once again to shake your head. “No…? I’ve never seen anyone like that– at least around Light for that matter.”

His frame remains protectively towering over you and you're actively scanning his hidden features searching for some clarification as to what was happening. “Why are you telling me this, Ryuzaki?”

“Has he mentioned anything or anyone to you?”

“What– No. He’s always been pretty private.”

L stares at you for a moment in silence, and when he steps closer to further block your line of sight, you push off the tree and stand taller in defense. “What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

“I have a very bad feeling about this… all of this,” he sighs, pulling down his sunglasses slightly to show you eyes full of genuine concern.

You look between them in a gentle gaze and your voice softens to barely above a whisper. “Why are you here Ryuzaki?”

Large and dark doe eyes flick between yours in a vulnerable expression, his lips dropping to a frown. “Isn’t it obvious…?” He exhales slightly. “It’s dangerous to be on campus right now. If the woman Mogi saw is potentially the Second Kira.. that means she has a keen sense of sight or recognition we don’t.”

You blink slowly. “Ah.. so she might be able to snuff me out if I hang around Light.”

Ryuzaki nods once and for the first time in a while, genuine fear flows through your veins. Being spotted by someone with a mysterious ability to kill without even seeing her makes you recall every interaction you’ve had on campus; each one comes up blank for her description though. 

“I can’t mention this yet to the group; only you and Mogi are aware of this situation, so it’d be too risky to speak over the phone or text. Besides… Aizawa is already on our case everytime we’re together so I couldn’t pull you aside tonight for something like this.”

Wait. Then why is he–?

You shoot your head up at the man in front of you; with the hand still holding his, you give a gentle squeeze. “What about you? You of all people shouldn’t be here!”

Ryuzaki tilts his head slightly to the side. “Huh? I’m here telling you the same thing, to be extremely cautious. My life isn’t explicitly worth more than yours.”

It definitely is though… Right?

You shake your head to protest but he speaks again. “Listen y/n… you’re important to m–”

“Ryuzaki?”

Shit. 

A voice that can only belong to Light rings out behind L and you both immediately stiffen; with the same flexibility as a marble statue, L slowly spins around. You take in the desolate area of the opening you’re standing at and mentally slam your head into a wall. You’re right in front of the fucking criminology building.

“I forgot that you technically go here too! It’s been a while since you’ve attended any classes though.”

Light’s voice gets louder as he approaches to stand next to Ryuzaki; his gaze widens when he notices you standing sheltered in front of him. “Oh, y/n you’re here too! I didn’t even see you earlier.”

You give an awkward wave with your free hand while L shrugs as casually as he can given the fact you both were fearing for your lives 30 seconds ago. “I thought it would be nice to get some air and enjoy the campus for our extended rest this afternoon.”

Light hangs onto to every word, his mind obviously searching for hidden meanings before his gaze lands on where you and Ryuzaki are still connected. The stare at your hands makes you want to pull yours back in awkward embarassment, but L tightens his grips in yours. 

“Oh my goodness– I can’t believe Matsuda was right!” He breaks into a laugh.

Great. If Matsuda caught on after last night when Aizawa shooed him out of the room, you can’t even imagine the suspicions of the rest of the task force. The image of Mr. Yagami’s concerned face makes you shudder into yourself. 

With your face bright red and words strained in your throat, L steps forward and pivots to further the distance between you and Light. “Yes, I suppose it was only a matter of time until you all caught on to our relationship. The truth is, I couldn’t wait to see her again and had to come to campus to visit.”

Light raises an eyebrow and studies your surprised expression from over Ryuzaki’s shoulder, a coy grin spreading on his lips. “Ah, is that so? To be honest I’m really surprised. I didn’t think you were her type.”

“Yes, well life is always surprising isn’t it? She was the one that actually asked me out initially.”

Huh? You stare between the two in silence; the conversation has effectively isolated you out. Again. 

Light crosses his arms and sighs airly. “That’s very interesting; she’s always had a way of making her feelings known though.”

It’s a not-so-subtle dig at the freshness of you and Ryuzakis’ relationship; the grip on your hand tightens again. Looking between the two men you sigh in exhaustion; it’s a bonafide dick measuring contest.

“But anyways Ryuzaki, I was going to ask her to grab coffee.”

“That’s not needed, we actually have plans for her lunch break.”

“Maybe dinner then. There’s a special at her favorite off-campus take-out place tonight.”

Your stomach rumbles at the mention of food and you silently remiss that your afternoon lunch time is being replaced with the bickering of the world’s pettiest men. 

Ryuzaki doesn’t miss the way Light is consistently highlighting the fact that he knows more about you, but it doesn’t change the way he still stands protectively in front of you. 

“Don’t you both get out of class at different times? I don’t want to further delay our evening meeting.”

“Ok, ok–” You speak up and walk beside Ryuzaki to break up the conversation before punches start getting thrown. “Light, I’ll see you in between the next class and at the meeting. You–” you pivot to L, “I’ll see you tonight.”

The way ‘tonight’ rolls off your tongue causes a slight stutter in the breathing of Ryuzaki who turns away with a defeated blush. Light opens his mouth to counter once again, but peels his head towards the criminology building when Takada yells his name from the main entrance. 

His eyebrow twitching at the way she calls him over, Light swallows thickly and bids a swift ‘goodbye’ before jogging over to the woman. You stand still connected to Ryuzaki as you watch him greet her with his usual plastered smile and suave body language; Light occasionally looks back over at the two of you with a suspicious gaze.

Relaxing slightly at the distance, Ryuzaki sighs slowly and reaches into his back pocket to pull up Watari’s contact on his phone. “Good, it worked.”

You whip your head up to face him. “Huh? What worked?”

“The gamble. This gamble.” He squeezes your hand slightly and turns to you. “If the Second Kira were to see you, it’s likely you would be in grave danger.”

You shift your weight to one leg and drop your tone to heavy sarcasm. “Yea, thanks for the reminder.”

Shaking his head slightly Ryuzaki lifts your connected hands upward to your gaze. “Yes, but now there’s some leverage against it. Us. If you were to now spontaneously die, it would only further point to someone who knows we’re together.”

The mention of your potential unpreventable death doesn’t bring you any relief. “Wait, but doesn’t like half the campus know we’re together now that we’re out here holding hands?”

Ryuzaki shakes his head. “Those people don’t count; they don’t know who I am, and none of the students here fit the description Mogi has provided so far.”

Ah.

You drop your gaze to your interconnected hands and blink as you work out the logistics. “I see. So if I were to randomly die now, after not doing anything suspicious like attending Aoyama, it would be from someone who knows my relationship to ‘L’.’

Ryuzaki grins and peers at you from above his sunglasses. “Sharp as usual, y/n; you’re correct. The only people who know that the detective ‘L’ is in a relationship, are the people within the task force. So if this mystery woman really is the Second Kira, and she’s never seen you before, the only reason she would kill you is because she sought you out from the orders of Kira. And that Kira would have to already know your role and relationship with the task force and me.”

AKA, Light would have to be Kira in order for that to come to fruition. 

Ryuzaki looks back over at Light and then gazes back down at your hands. “If she’s willing to kill an innocent person based on a single order from Light, there's a chance she’s extremely loyal to him. So… it’s also best to prevent her from being jealous.”

You nod once but notice the slight venom in Ryuzaki’s gaze at the man across the quad. The way his eyes burn a hole in the side of his head makes you wonder exactly whose jealousy you should be wary of. 

Sensing his stress, you run a thumb over his knuckles absentmindedly in a comforting gesture; Ryuzaki’s cheeks warm up, but his hand no longer trembles at the contact. “But what about you, aren’t you nervous? I can’t offer the same protection.”

L turns back over to you and takes in your genuine concern and rubs his own thumb over yours experimentally for a moment before responding. “Nervous? Heh, yea… I guess you could say that. But as long as the group has your keen deductive skills, we’ll catch Kira and confirm the safety of both of us.”

Your hands warms at the friction of his thumb and the moment is strangely comforting despite the topic being the both of your potential premature deaths. “So we’ll have to really commit to this, huh? It’ll take a lot of consistent convincing to make a group of detectives actually believe it.”

Ryuzaki looks down at your hands and plays with your fingers once again, testing the waters to see how each action feels against his own skin. “As long as you're ok with it. For me… there’s no one else I’d rather ‘fake-date’.”

A scoff escapes your lips and you chuckle slightly. “Do you even know other girls?”

“...No-” he resigns “So I guess I got pretty lucky that the only girl I do know is you.” 

Your heart falters slightly and you push him back with a laugh escaping your lips. “Ok, that was actually kinda smooth, Ryuzaki.”

His gaze lingers on your lips when you laugh, and it takes a fair amount of willpower to peel his sights away with a giddy glint in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yea–” a few more chuckles escape you. 

Standing close together and taking turns chuckling slightly, you notice the silence; an easy and comfortable feeling is shared between you both. It’s the perfect moment to wonder what this is, in reality��� not just your fake dating scenario. Before you can open your lips, a familiar black Sedan pulls up to the ‘passenger pick up area’ right in front of the small campus gate and a rumble escapes your stomach at the same time.

You and Ryuzaki stand there for a moment, hands still connected despite it being obviously time to part ways, though neither of you really want to. 

With a defeated smile you take your hand out of his and immediately notice the empty feeling filling your senses. “Well I guess I should grab a quick convenience store lunch… I only have 15 minutes left before my next class.”

Ryuzaki opens and closes his fist a few times at his side, as if he were trying to recreate the grasp he once had on you. “Ah, right. Sorry about this hold up…. My lovely girlfriend?” he ends unsurely. 

“Ok, we’re gonna work on that.”

“Right, that’s a good idea.”

You both stand together despite no longer holding hands; you can see Watari gazing in your direction through the car windshield and Ryuzaki gruffly sighs at seeing Light watching you both.

He shifts awkwardly in his shoes. “So.. how do we end this convincingly? Do we uh, hug?”

Heart rate shooting up, you shiver and cough slightly. Ok, this is apparently about to happen. It was bound to at some point considering the situation, right?

You bring your hands up slightly and step forward, heart rate nearly cracking a rib from the intensity. “Ok, uh… just– just relax. Ok? Put your hands…here.”

Ryuzaki blinks idly, for once in his life having no clue what was happening, as you guide his hands to your waist. Gently bringing your arms around his shoulders and lazily wrapping them around his neck, you tug his head in closer. Sweet candy is the scent of his breath while large nervous eyes pour into your own before shamelessly staring at your mouth. 

Nodding once to confirm his comfort, you return the gesture and tilt your head to the side and flutter your eyes shut while closing the gap. 

The kiss is slow and gentle; his lips are stiff and awkward as they meet your own. You peck his lips a few times before lingering the kiss and attempting to set a motion; his hands grip your hips in a vice at the shock. 

It’s awkward and borderline unreciprocated; pulling back slightly with a disappointed feeling at the lackluster effort on his part, Ryuzaki opens his eyes and looks at you worriedly.

His gaze moves between your eyes and pulls you in closer despite your lips no longer touching as if he’s upset it’s already over. 

“Wait. We need to…make it believable right?” He asks with a yearning expression in his eyes.

Blinking slightly in surprise but nodding nonetheless, Ryuzak hastily leans back down to eagerly connect your lips to his once again. The motion pushes your head back slightly as the intensity is surprising given his initial reaction to the first kiss.

Lips molding against yours with fervor, his hands pull you into his pelvis while you fall into a comfortable rhythm. It’s almost like you’re kissing a completely different person; each time you pull back for a breath Ryuzaki leans in to chase your lips and cut off the oxygen once again. 

Was the first kiss just a trial? It’s as if he took the first one as a sample to learn. 

And fuck was he a fast learner because the way his thumbs rub small circles on your pelvic bones leave your mind fuzzy; you can barely remember if any of your exes kissed you like this. Hands still wrapped around his neck, you sink your fingertips into the mess of hair escaping under his baseball hat and run your nails across his lower scalp.

The motion leaves him pressing forward to push your back into the tree while his head stays dipped down to your height in an effort to keep you connected as long as possible. Sugar coated lips leave you wanting more; tugging him closer and arching your back at the contact, you tilt your hips into his and your cunt drips pathetically into the fabric of your panties. 

It’s more than a kiss at this point; and fuck is it anything but casual. A complete erotic makeout session happening on campus with students now definitely pausing to scoff at the excessive PDA. The kisses are relatively tame, your tongue moves to swipe at his bottom lip, but he clearly is unaware of what that motion is indicating.

Instead, he continues the hypnotic rhythm shared between you as if breaking the kiss would kill him. When he presses forward once again, you can feel the stiffness of his cellphone in his front pocket bruise against your hips; in a shock at the feeling, you stutter slightly and he backs up hastily.  

Awkwardly coughing and stumbling backwards, Ryuzaki’s cheeks are bright red and his pupils are blown wide with predatory desire as he watches the way you pant to catch your breath. Hair slightly messed up from the way your head was grinding against the tree, you run your hands through a few times while L anxiously moves to tug the fabric of his sweatshirt lower. 

Light stands watching from across the way, a fuming expression on his face as Takada continues talking and Watari moves to raise cellphone to his ear. On cue, a ringer emits from Ryuzaki’s pocket and he sheepishly tries to revert back into character.

“Right. I should take this.. Probably a work call. Ha ha–”

You blow air through your nose in amusement and nod once, watching the way he raises his hand to wave goodbye and promptly speed walks to the car. It’s when you’re pushing off the tree to head towards the convenience store on the edge of campus that you notice Ryuzaki reach into his back pocket to retrieve his cell phone.

Fuck…there’s no way this is casual. 

ty for ur patience with this chapter! I'm doing a spontaneous trip with some friends this week so I've been busier than expected

Anyways~ it's finally heating up officially between you and L hehe and things are only gonna get steamier. PLS let me know if you want me to increase the rate of the nsfw for this-> im impatient and want yall to fuck already, but the slowburn does edge soooo good (so pls lmk!!)

reblogs/likes/comments all appreciated

FR I LUV U ALL !!

-oatmeal <3

tags: @lechatparle24 @irissfoot @iheteeaifs @automaticpatroltragedy @greenapplesaucepi @thesimpnovao

[kaydensb]

100% Legally Sourced Media (Google Drive)

Here is a link for a whole bunch of movies, tv shows and more - https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/15yd2vLoCzlTDknjTgo965gCoAV8S0Emt

below is a list of the things currently on my google drive, I may add more and keep updating this list periodically as things get put on the drive.

Audiobooks and Audio Dramas

Fiction

1984 By George Orwell

Animal Farm By George Orwell

Chemistry By Rachael Sommers

Daisy Jones and the Six By Taylor Jenkins Reid

David Copperfield By Charles Dickens

Dracula By Bram Stoker

Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe By Fanny Flagg

Friends of Dorothy By Sandi Toksvig

Jurassic Park By Michael Crichton

Little Women By Louisa May Alcott

Neon Roses By Rachel Dawson

Pride and Prejudice By Jane Austen

Red, White & Royal Blue By Casey McQuiston

Should Have Known Better By A J McDine

The Complete Sherlock Holmes Collection By Arthur Conan Doyle

The Exorcist By William Peter Blatty

The Murder Game By Tom Hindle

The Picture of Dorian Gray By Oscar Wilde

The Woman in Black By Susan hill

The Wonder Boy of Whistle Stop By Fannie Flagg

Torchwood

We Play Games by Sarah A. Denzil

Non Fiction

A Billion Years My Escape from a Life in the Highest Ranks of Scientology By Mike Rinder

All I Know Now By Carrie Hope Fletcher

Apparently There Were Complaints By Sharon Gless

Best Foot Forward By Adam Hills

Between the Stops By Sandi Toksvig

Beyond Belief By Jenna Miscavige

Coming Up for Air By Tom Daley

Dare to Dream By Izzy Judd

Deaf Utopia By Nyle DiMarco

Escaping the Kingdom of God By J. Andrew Robinson

Fathomless Riches By Rev Richard Coles

Freddie Mercury The Definitive Biography By Lesley-Ann Jones

Friends, Lovers and the Big Terrible Thing By Matthew Perry

From Here to the Great Unknown A Memoir By Lisa Marie Presley & Riley Keough

Help I S*xted My Boss By William Hanson & Jordan North

Mama’s Boy By Dustin Lance Black

Notorious by Raphael Rowe

The House of My Mother By Shari Franke

The Mayor of Castro Street By Randy Shilts

The Phantom Prince By Elizabeth Kendall

Under the Banner of Heaven By Jon Krakauer

Under the Bridge By Rebecca Godfrey

Documentaries and Docudramas

A Very British Sex Scandal

Abused By My Girlfriend

Aids - The Unheard Tapes

Alex Brooker: Disability and Me

Bad Influencer - The Great Insta Con

Bowie - The Man Who Changed The World

Boyzone: No Matter What

Children of the Underground

Dancing for the Devil - The 7M TikTok Cult

Daughters of the Cult

Desperately Seeking Soulmate - Escaping Twin Flames Universe

Dinosaurs - The Final Day with David Attenborough

Dirty Pop - The Boy Band Scam

Driven - The Billy Monger Story

Escaping Polygamy

Escaping Twin Flames

Freddie Mercury - The Great Pretender

Frozen Planet

Frozen Planet II

Good Grief with Reverend Richard Coles

Hatton Garden - The Inside Story

Hell Camp - Teen Nightmare

I Am Not A Rapist

I Cut Off His Penis - The Truth Behind The Headlines

Ireland's Mother and Baby Scandal

Killing Patient Zero

Leah Remini: Scientology and the Aftermath

Lewis Capaldi - How I'm Feeling Now

Liar: The Fake Grooming Scandal

Living Every Second: The Kris Hallenga Story

Lord Montagu

Mama's Boy

Matt Willis: Fighting Addiction

Murdaugh Murders - A Southern Scandal

Murder Among the Mormons

My Wife My Abuser - Captured On Camera

Pennywise - The Story of It

Planet Earth

Planet Earth II

Queen - Days Of Our Lives

Sacred Soil - The Piney Woods School Story

Sarah Everard: The Search for Justice

Scientology: Going Clear - The Prison of Belief

Soham: The Murder of Holly & Jessica

Stolen Youth - Inside the Cult at Sarah Lawrence

Strike - An Uncivil War

Strike! The Women Who Fought Back

Striking with Pride: United at the Coalface

Surviving Amber Heard

Take Care of Maya

The Bambers : Murder at the Farm

The Boys - The Sherman Brothers' Story

The Exorcist Untold

The Family

The Krays - The Mafia Connection

The Menendez Brothers

The Millennium Dome Heist With Ross Kemp

The Movies That Made Us

The Pembrokeshire Murders - Catching the Gameshow Killer

The Program - Cons, Cults and Kidnapping

The Times of Harvey Milk

Uprising

Waco - American Apocalypse

Warren Jeffs: Prophet of Evil

Wonders of the World I Can't See

Films

A Haunting in Venice

About a Boy

All of Us Strangers

Bad Tidings

Beautiful Boy

Beautiful Thing

Beetlejuice

Boy Erased

Boys Don’t Cry

But I'm a Cheerleader

Chocolat

City of Lies

Clue

Cool Runnings

Corpse Bride

Dallas Buyers Club

Dawn of the Dead

Death on the Nile

Deck the Halls

Die Hard

Dirty Dancing

Donnie Brasco

Downton Abbey

Edward Scissorhands

Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind

Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Fried Green Tomatoes

From Hell

Gone Girl

Gremlins

Hairspray

Handsome Devil

Heathers

Heathers - The Musical

Home Alone

Hot Fuzz

How the Grinch Stole Christmas

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

IT

Jaws

Jingle All The Way

Jumanji

Jurassic Park

Kill Your Darlings

Kindergarten Cop

Kinky Boots

Labyrinth

Legally Blonde

Legend

Les Misérables

Les Misérables: The Staged Concert

Little Shop of Horrors

Little Women

Love Actually

Mean Girls

Milk

Minamata

Miracle on 34th Street

Murder on the Orient Express

Murdered for Being Different

Newsies

Oliver!

Philadelphia

Pirates of the Caribbean

Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Prayers For Bobby

Pride

Pride and Prejudice

Red, White and Royal Blue

Rent

Scarface

Scream

Scrooged

Secret Window

Shaun of the Dead

Sister Act

Sleepy Hollow

Star Wars

Sweeney Todd - The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

The Addams Family

The Amityville Horror

The Blair Witch Project

The Conjuring

The Craft

The Crow

The Exorcist

The Greatest Showman

The imitation Game

The Muppet Christmas Carol

The Nightmare Before Christmas

The Santa Clause

The Shawshank Redemption

The Sixth Sense

The Sound of Music

The Tourist

The Woman in Black

Three Men and a Baby

Three Men and a Little Lady

Titanic

Twister

Uncle Buck

Unicorns

West Side Story

What We Did on Our Holiday

White Christmas

Zola

Stand Up Comedy

Adam Hills

Chris McCausland

Chris Ramsey

Daniel Howell

Daniel Sloss

Dara O'Briain

Ed Byrne

Fern Brady

Greg Davies

John Bishop

Rhod Gilbert

Sarah Millican

Sean Lock

TV Shows

90210

Agatha All Along

Alan Davies: As Yet Untitled

Being Human

Bridgerton

Celebrity Race Across the World

Cuckoo

Daisy Jones and the Six

Deadwater Fell

Desperate Housewives

Doctor Who

Downton Abbey

Eyewitness

Fire Country

Good Omens

Good Trouble

Heartstopper

I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here!

Interview with the Vampire

It's A Sin

Killing Eve

Looking

Mary & George

Midnight Mass

Missing You

My Family

My Wife and Kids

Nevermind the Buzzcocks

QI 

Queer as Folk

Shameless

Sky Med

Sleepy Hollow

Switched at Birth

Taskmaster

The Alienist

The Artful Dodger

The Clearing

The Couple Next Door

The Fosters

The Haunting of Bly Manor

The Haunting of Hill House

The Jetty

The Midnight Club

The Misinvestigations of Romesh Ranganathan

The Pembrokeshire Murders

The Perfect Couple

The Society

The Stranger

The Unofficial Science Of…

The Watcher

Torchwood

Under the Banner of Heaven

Under the Bridge

Virgin River

WandaVision

White House Farm

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tag @heartstringsduet @annoyingcloudearthquake @paperstorm @bonheur-cafe 🧡

I have become obsessed with the idea that TK and Carlos might have bought Jonah a race car/ fire truck/rocket ship bed. So I’m already working on a coda…. BUT with the caveat that if the bed happens to just be plain red plastic (?!), I shall modify accordingly.

Also featuring Carlos' nightlight that appears in Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines and Where All This Love Comes From.

“Hey, TK.”

TK, lying on his side on the race car bed* with his knees pulled up to his chest, shifts so he’s flat on his back, facing the ceiling. His long legs dangle most of the way off the mattress. He swallows hard. Carlos watches the dome of his Adam’s apple sink. Tears slope from his right eye. Then his left. Then both at once.

Carlos wants to lie down with his husband, but it’s fair to assume two giant men together on a toddler race car bed will result in that bed being flattened to the floor. Which maybe doesn’t matter now. But still. Too much has already been crushed for one day.

Carlos instead picks up the sturdy wooden stool they found at the flea market. The stool is squat and has little lions and tigers painted along the seat’s circumference. He deposits it next to the bed and sits down, reaches for the globe-shaped nightlight by his feet. This was his nightlight as a child, and it still works. In a dad-like way, Carlos thinks: They made things to last in the ‘90s. He switches the nightlight on.

The late afternoon's amber sunshine floods through the west-facing windows, so it’s slightly difficult to make out the swirling constellations that project onto the shelves and the ceiling and travel across their bodies too. But stars are there. Stars are everywhere. Seeking them makes more appear, just like with a real night sky.

*rocket ship/ fire truck...😳

Open Tag and tags below!:

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @lightningboltreader

@alrightbuckaroo @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @welcometololaland @rmd-writes

@lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74 @liminalmemories21

@herefortarlos @orchidscript @freneticfloetry

@sugdenlovesdingle @theghostofashton @chicgeekgirl89

@mikibwrites @irispurpurea @pimento-playing-hopscotch

@eclectic-sassycoweyes @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter

@sapphic--kiwi @emsprovisions @never-blooms

@whatsintheboxmh @kiwichaeng @literateowl

@butch-buckley @butchreyes @captain-gillian

@nancys-braids @laelipoo @hereghostslive @anactualcaseofthetruth

@carlossreaders @henrygrass @everlastingday @futures-tense

@rangersoup @the-126-family - If you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 2 -  La Valse de Paris

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7k

AuthorsNote: Chapter 2 of new multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This details our reader settling into Paris and the outbreak of war. Benedict turns up next chapter. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy! <3

Paris, September 1939

Your first few weeks in Paris are a delightful blur. 

Spending late summer exploring the city - with Solène as your occasional guide and Eloise when she is not at work. You soak up every moment, from the windswept magnificence of standing atop the Eiffel Tower, your words being stolen by the wind, to the monastic silence of the Louvre on a quiet Monday morning. And everything in between - from Notre Dame's atmospheric incense-laden gothic darkness to the airy, resplendent glass dome of Galeries Lafayette that glitters like a prismatic jewel even on cloudy days. 

But perhaps your favourites are the little slices of city life: sitting watching the world go by at a corner cafe, the crunch and warm, pillowy softness of the first bite of freshly baked baguette as you wander back from the boulangerie, the lingering fragrance of the rose garden at the Château de Bagatelle in Bois de Boulogne... It's all pieces of a puzzle that fill your heart in ways that make your life before now seem drab, almost in black and white, like a photograph.

You have written to Stanley once since you arrived, effusive in your praise, a homily to your new home, however temporary. While proclaiming his happiness for you, his response tempered, a touch dismissive of your wonderment. I can scarcely believe any city could truly live up to the praise you so readily heap upon Paris, my love, he wrote back. That was a week ago, and your urge to reply has been muted. 

It's during an idle lunchtime by the Seine, eating a sandwich as you dangle your feet over the river wall, that you genuinely feel a local. An elderly French couple, likely visiting from the provinces, approaches you and asks you for directions to the Musée de l'Homme. Part of you aglow they think you sophisticated enough to look Parisian, and French. And you are able to help them, giving them the information in French, not fluent but sufficient that they are surprised when you confess “je suis américaine”.

In your third week, you secure the art gallery job Eloise had seen posted. An opportunity to meet many new people, primarily British and American, who share your love of art of all persuasions. You spend many a happy hour answering questions and building your knowledge of art, not just in your gallery but across the city. Part of you is wistful to study the subject in even greater depth than the books you borrow in copious quantities from the library where Eloise works.

You grow so close to Eloise so quickly that it’s as if you have known her your whole life. A sense of kinship, a near familial bond. You know, on some instinctive level, she will always be a part of your life somehow. Your evenings are often spent in lounge bars together—venues awash with art deco splendour as you listen to jazz through a cigarette haze and flirt aimlessly with a carousel of handsome men. Life seems so full of potential, a hum in your very being.

“What do you think the purpose of life is, y/n?” Eloise sighs as she flops onto your bed after returning from one such decadent night out.

“Aaaand we are done with the brandy…” you declare, taking the bottle of Martell cognac from her grip and placing it pointedly on the dresser, your high-handed point only mildly undermined by your own unsteady gait.

You collapse down next to her, the intricate ceiling rose around your light fixture swirling slightly before your very eyes.

“Love?” you hazard in answer to her question.

“Boo! Cliché!” she jeers, elbowing you good-naturedly.

“I don’t just mean romantic love,” you protest, “the love of family… friends…”

“Ah, yes, family. Endlessly large family. Don’t suppose you want an extra sibling or two, do you? I could be persuaded to let a couple go,” she squints comically.

“Depends… can I have the artist?” you jest.

“You have to stop staring at that painting; it's getting weird,” she opines with her typical bluntness, “and no, you can’t. You know he’s my favourite,” she pouts.

“I think he’s my favourite too,” you opine over a stifled yawn, any embarrassment about being called out for your unbridled admiration overridden by the sleepy state your comfortable bed lulls you into.

“If you end up being attracted to my brother, I will have to disown you, you know,” she pats your hand drowsily.

“Hmm, good thing he’s so far away…” you trail off with a lazy giggle, eyes drooping heavily.

It’s the last words you exchange before you both fall asleep on your bed.

–

Perhaps, as with all things that are too good, the idyll is temporary. It's the news you wake up to that following morning, September 4th, which throws everything into uncertainty. Solène knocks on your door early with an uncharacteristically sombre expression, wordlessly handing you the morning paper and flicking on the wireless on your mantelpiece, the fine lines on her face deeper etched, furrowed with worry.

‘La Guerre!’ the headline screams from the newspaper. And the voice on the airwaves, your ear more attuned to the language now, details how Britain and France have jointly declared war against Germany for their invasion of Poland a few days prior.

At the sound of the radio, Eloise emerges from your room, blinking and hair asunder, a little delicate from your previous night's revelry. You sip coffee at a loss for what to think or do. It’s an odd cognitive dissonance when life at once seems identical but also changed by an invisible shape - an undercurrent of fear, of the unknown, a punch to the pit of your stomach that you don’t know how to acknowledge - even as you go through the motions of your daily routine and head to work.

By the evening you are more phlegmatic about the situation. Your spirit dampened, yes, but not crushed. You feel an immense sense of privilege that conflict is not yet at your doorstep, but equally knowing being in the capital city of a nation that just declared war against a neighbouring country is not exactly safe.

You and Eloise splash out on dinner at an upscale brassiere that night, one you have both passed and commented you’d love to dine in some time. Both of you seized by the unspoken “what if”, the previous reluctance to treat yourselves entirely absent.

Talk on all the tables around you as you dine - on heavenly butter-soft steak - is about the war. What it could mean for Paris, fear of another major European conflict so soon after the last, the economic concerns - the bite of the early 30s depression just relinquishing its hostile grip on the somewhat bruised denizens.

Afterwards, you wander the cobbled streets back to your apartment, arms looped, bellies full, occasionally staring up at the starry night sky in mostly contemplative, sober silence. It’s a beautiful evening, but something in the warm breeze feels melancholic.

When you open the door to your building, Solène is waiting, rocking on her heels.

“Eloise, a telegram has come for you!” she announces, shoving a piece of paper into her hand. “And a telephone call from England earlier,” she adds, gesturing to the black rotary phone outside her place—the only one in the building.

Eloise gives you a brief glance and then opens the message. You watch her eyes ping across the text before her shoulders slump.

“My mother,” she sighs in explanation, “it appears she is summoning me back home.”

“What?!” the selfish reflex of not wanting to be left alone is the first thing flaring in you.

“It’s not fair!” she whines in a flash of child-like defiance before continuing in a more subdued tone. “She is sending my brother to come get me. She doesn’t specify which, but seeing as Anthony is a Lieutenant General in the Army and has likely been called to Churchill’s side, I'm presuming Benedict,” Eloise surmises. 

Your thoughts instantly fly to that painting hanging in your apartment upstairs. A strange flutter under your ribs at the idea you could be about to meet its creator. Quickly followed by a wash of guilt that you could even focus on such a frivolous thing.

“What will I do without you?’’ You fret aloud, grasping her arm tighter.

“There was a call for you too, y/n,” Solène pipes up. “Your father wants you to exchange your return ticket for a sailing home as soon as possible,” she relays.

“But.. I just got here!” your lament as defiant as Eloise’s. A frustrating sense you are losing a fleeting opportunity you already hold so precious - like a new toy being ripped from the meaty fist of a truculent toddler.

“Mes amis, what can I say?” that trademark Gallic shrug seizing Solène’s shoulders. “While Paris is safe for now, we do not know how much longer that will hold true… it is likely best you return home. Perhaps this will be over in weeks, and you can return?”

You know your parents have paid your rent upfront for a whole year, likely similar for Eloise, your landlady not impacted financially by your leaving, merely a wish for you to enjoy your Parisian adventures.

As you unlock the door to your apartment and wander in, both of you sigh; the illumination from the Eiffel Tower that refracts upon your window pane just adds to your melancholia, a sight that before had never failed to warm your heart.

“When will your brother get here?” your inflection dull.

“Tomorrow, most likely. It only takes a couple of hours to cross the Channel, and as you know, the train ride from the coast is just a few more. I expect he’ll be waiting for me right here when I return from work,” her tone is just as flat as yours.

You want to ask if she will pack tonight, but you stop yourself, seeing the flame that usually burns so bright behind her blue eyes dimmed. Wordlessly, you draw closer and pull her into a firm hug.

“I will miss you like a sister,” she whispers into your hair, returning the embrace just as fiercely, “maybe moreso.”

You nod and band your arms tighter briefly before letting go, bone-deep exhaustion overtaking anything else you see in her mirrored stance.

The last thing that captures your eye as Eloise turns to her room is that painting of her childhood home and, strangely, how it feels closer now than ever before.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

[docholligay]

Immediately after season one

My brain is a puddle out my ears, but hey! Only 400 more words and I'll have managed the 3000! Wish me luck!

This is about 700 words.

Minako wasn’t stupid. She paid attention to things, even when people thought she didn’t. That was part of the game. She paid attention, and she remembered things. Okay, they weren’t the things people thought she should remember, like the capital of…Greece, or whatever, or who the fuck was emporering when, but they were more important than that.

She didn’t get confused. So why now? 

For last three weeks, Minako had felt like she was living in a snowglobe. Tokyo was as it had always been (but it isn’t) and school was boring (I’m forgetting something) and her friends still wrote from London (what was I doing in London?). But just at the edge of her life, she could see a curve, shiny and almost hidden by the falling snow around her. There was something outside, that she could not reach. 

It was like losing a limb, except if you lost a limb, you could point to it and go, “Shit, my leg’s gone,” and whoever you’re sitting there with would go, ‘oh! That fucking sucks!” and they would feel bad for you, because your leg is missing, and everyone can tell your leg is missing. 

“I feel wrong, and incomplete,” didn’t get the same reaction. Just a chuckle and a shrug that being a teenager was hard. 

Minako Aino wasn’t herself. Or, she wasn’t fully herself. Parts of her had been cut out (like a ransom note) and pasted over (worse, the magazine that wrote the note) and nobody else seemed to be able to see it. There was something (someone? someones?) missing from her. She wandered around Tokyo, trying to find it (the thing that wasn’t real, except it was) but it kept running away from her, like a scared stray cat (a cat. Was there a cat? Blending into the fog, white maybe, but no, cats can’t…) 

So Minako Aino rode the subway, and climbed up out of the station, stopping randomly to find the edge of the glass, to find a way to dig under and be free. Sadako from the volleyball team told her she was just being ridiculous and London must have made her weird. (no I’m weirder than London ever dreamed of being) English people are just weird, she said, so it made you weird. (and London was fine Londoners were fine and nothing like Tokyo or Tokyoites but also covered in all the same filter all talking that same mumble) Come to the cafe with us after school, we’re going to get melon parfaits (they don’t sell melon parfaits in London but I remember them anyway because its all the same, because this thing is bad at its job) 

Going crazy was more work than Minako had imagined. 

She almost found it, once. She felt the glass crack beneath her fingers. It nearly gave way. 

As she was walking along some prefecture, by a shrine, she smelled it. The incense. It shouldn’t have meant anything. It’s Japan. It’s lousy with shrines, which she never had an interest in (but you spent so much time here) and the shrines are all lousy with incense (you remember this one, the wood and the slight musk). But she stopped, staring up at it. 

There was a world. A world separate from this one. And she was the same person, only different. She knew different people. She did something. She had something. Life was complicated, aand she dreamed about leaving it constantly. She wanted it back, more than ever. 

The shrine maiden, long black hair, so black it was almost purple in the sunlight, like a raven’s feathers, turned toward her. Her broom stopped. They stared at each other, saying nothing, and Minako felt it. She felt the glass crack. She stepped closer, just one step. This was it. This was the bend in the sky where the dome rested, and if she could just. 

“What?!?!” The shine maiden bellowed, suddenly angry, like she could hear the crack too, like she was trying to hold up that curve of sky Minako desperately wanted to bring down. 

“Nothing.” (everything anything come back we’re almost there take my hand break it break it BREAK IT)

Minako headed back into the fog, to catch the train.

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Just a short drabble of Finn being overstimulated discovering noise cancelling headphones for the first time! I didn't really specify a location, but it could be during Glomas. No title bc this is short. Also inspired by me trying on my friend's noise cancelling headhones a few days ago lol.

Warnings: None Word count: 817

(Pls reblog and leave a comment! 💖)

"You should put these on."

Finn blinked at the adrupt appearance of someone in front of him, suddenly snapping out of the stupor he had apparently been in for the past... well, he had no idea.

Unsure if they were actually talking to him, Finn glanced around, then looked down at the pair of large black headphones being held out towards him.

"...What?"

"You should put these on." They repeated. "They're noise cancelling headphones. Blocks out all... this." They gestured to the large hall that was packed to the brim with people. Every word spoken and every step taken simply added to the uproar of noise created by an excited crowd of teenagers.

Finn's brows furrowed, and he stared at this person- this stranger, trying to figure out what they could possibly gain from giving him headphones of all things. Noise cancelling? The noise is meant to come from the headphones, wouldn't that defeat the point?

"Hah, you NRC guys are hard to work with. Your armband... Octavinelle? Yeah, makes sense. You don't have to repay me or anything, but if you really want to, you can, uh, get me a coupon or something for that cafe thing your dorm runs."

It took Finn a moment to realise the student talking to him was, in fact, from RSA. How he didn't notice, he had no idea. The blue and white sash with its big, obnoxious bow was hard to miss. It was hard to concentrate, though. The hall was too loud.

"Come on," the RSA kid urged. "You look pretty out of it, these should help."

Finn could hear the conversations of the students next to and behind him, drowning out his thoughts, and the words of the group in the corner over there and the sound of shoes clicking against the floor and some prick snapping their fingers and cheers and laughter and Sea Witch, it was so hard to keep a train of thought going-

Finn reached forward and carefully took the headphones, eyeing the other wearily as he slowly put them on.

Really, headphones? He had headphones already! At home. What would these even do, what's the point in- oh.

Finn's eyes widened, and it was like a dome had been placed over him and cut him off from the rest of the world. The ear-piercing hubbub of the hall had been driven away and was now nothing but a distant murmur.

He couldn't hear the argument over collectors cards. He couldn't hear the debate about spell choices or whatever. He couldn't hear the conversation about somebody's girlfriend. He couldn't hear shoes on the floor and he couldn't hear that god awful snapping that made him want to rip somebody's fingers off.

Finn just stood there, astounded. It was so... quiet. It was quiet. His ears weren't hurting with every spike in volume and he didn't quite feel like tearing off his own ears anymore. The only thing really bothering him now was how bright the hall was and the discomfort of his clothes.

After a minute or so of stunned silence and blissful quiet, Finn noticed that RSA student smiling at him and promptly pulled the headphones off and shoved them back into their hands.

The dome lifted, and a wall of noise slammed into Finn full force. His ears hurt. He tugged irritably at his gloves.

"It's much better with them on, right?" The sound of their voice made Finn wince. "You should get a pair. Actually, maybe you can have these. You definitely look like you need them more, I can just buy another."

Finn stared at them in disbelief, struggling to process their words. Those headphones looked incredibly expensive, and they were just being offered for free?!

Finn tried to think of what they could possibly want and tried to think of a response, but the noise just seemed to cut off every thought. He chewed his lip and glanced around- for what exactly he wasn't sure- and his eyes began to water, and oh no, he hadn't cried over something like this in years.

Finn shoved past the incredibly confused RSA student and stumbled his way through the dense crowd to the exit.

He could feel the fabric of his clothes rubbing against his skin and he was so very aware of every little sound and noise and just how bright those lights were and it was just awful. It was just too much.

When Finn finally forced his way outside, he was met with a cool breeze and a dark night. He slid down the wall next to the door and put his head on his knees, panting.

He stayed like that for a while, trying to breathe and calm down. His skin stopped itching. His heart stopped racing. His breathing slowed. Finn took in a deep breath.

It was quiet out here. Hah. Maybe he should think about those headphones.

-End

...........................................

A/N: I did it, I wrote something! Finally!!! It's not much and it's not my best, but I hope you all at least enjoyed it even if it is just Finn suffering and being distrustful of one of RSA's many bleeding hearts who just wanna help XD

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @sillyslipperybananapeel

@cloudcountry @skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123

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@kirans-wonderland @coffinkissez @idikeis @s-t-y-x

@theleechyskrunkly

[atamascolily]

We never see an exterior shot of the glass dome cafe in Rebellion, but this sketch from the Rebellion Production Note confirms what I've always suspected: there's no way in or out.

The dome here is meant to evoke the similarly shaped roof of the Incubator's Tower (confirmed in the Production Note)... but it's also identical to one other thing from earlier in the film: the glass cake dome used to contain the Nightmare.

Who is a round cake indeed?

[helluvatimes]

Pink Latte

Dahlia ‘Cafe Au Lait Rose’ blooming in the Flower Dome. Photo credit: Jonathan Chua.

This is what the name of this dahlia, when translated, seems to mean.

[mephistopheleswasrobbed]

GMMTV 2025 Riding the Wave first thoughts

We have 15 or 16 BLs, 2 GLs, one mixed het and BL and 1!!! het series. GMMTV really said we don't give a shit about straight people anymore and I'm so here for it.

Dare You to Death: Messy teen slasher meets murder mystery BL. Feels a little bit like two stories mushed together in the pilot trailer but very interesting concept. I'm quite neutral about JoongDunk but the story looks fun. Will almost certainly be watching.

Head 2 Head: Bad Buddy with fashion design students who are also car racers and one of them has visions of the future? There's a lot happening but tbh none of it really caught my attention. Haven't seen SkyKeen before and JavaSurf are new so I have zero opinions on them. I'll wait for the official trailer to make a decision about this one.

Burnout Syndrome: Love triangle kinda but make it serious. Directed by Nuchy, looks a bit darker and mature. OffGun + Dew as second lead looks intriguing especially because there seemed to be more romance shown between Dew and Gun than Off and Gun. This will probably be good. Not necessarily hyped but will definitely watch.

I Love "A Lot Of" You: The only exclusive BG show in this lineup about a guy trying to make all 5 personalities of a girl fall in love with him. Nanon and Mind of 4Eve. Looks very good actually. But it's a straight romance and so far I haven't seen anything that would make me watch anyway. Will probably not watch.

Whale Store xoxo: Down on her luck grocery store owner meets manic pixie dream girl errand girl. Happy for MilkLove to have graduated from school, MewnichJune with history looks promising. Not necessarily hyped but will definitely watch.

Only Friends: Dream On: Season 2 of Only Friends, this time centered around a theatre production. EarthMix as exes, JossGawin and OhmLeng. This is all I ever wanted. I'm so here for this. I would watch anything with EarthMix without hesitation but this has me extremely hyped. Will definitely watch.

That Summer: Troublemaker meets amnesiac prince in seaside setting. Neutral about WinnySatang, looking forward to NeoMint, hyped about MondRyu. Looks good but doesn't really catch me. Will probably be watching for Mond in a BL role finally.

My Romance Scammer: Two rich boys marrying scammers. They are making full use of marriage equality already. JuniorMark look good, Gmmtv went for OhmFluke and it's hilarious, they also look good. Looks like fun. Will almost certainly be watching.

Melody of Secrets: Mystery with murders and unreliable memories. Gives Hannibal vibes a little. (Which doesn't really work in its favour because Hannibal is on another level) Not a ForceBook fan but the plot seems interesting. Will wait for official trailer but probably watch for the fandom speculation.

Love You Teacher: Elementary school teacher who hates kids has to care for his amnesiac, age-regressed partner. Directed by Dome. Looks very fun. PearthSanta look good. They're gonna have to walk a fine line here with the whole age regression thing but I trust in Dome. Will be watching.

MU-TE-LUV: 7 Stories centered around Thai supersticious activity. Too many people in this for me to list. Will wait to see how much the stories are intertwined or if they're all separate from each other. Looks like fun. Definitely seated for the Fluke, Lego, Yacht, Neo story, the two BL stories didn't really catch my attention, some of the straight ones seemed more interesting. Will wait for official trailer for anything except the FLYN part which I'm super excited for.

Cat for Cash: Debt collector can understand cats, helps new owner to manage cat cafe. Family drama happens. I like FirstKhao but tbh the trailer bored me a little. (Pls don't kill me FK stans). Will wait for official trailer, might binge after it's done.

Girl Rules: Jojo directing basically Only Friends lesbian edition. Although mostly MilkLove and NamtanFilm seem to be mixed up, ViewMim seem to be doing their own thing. Gmmtv turning up the heat on the GL side. This looks very fun, I'm here for it. Will watch.

Boys in Love: Three high school couples and some gay teachers to round it out. Don't know any of these kids and tbh didn't even realise until the end that there were three couples. Looks like a nice high school BL, but I'm probably too old for this. Will probably watch for Podd and Papang.

My Magic Prophecy: Doctor x fortune teller with some mystery and escaping to the country side. JimmySea romance storyline didn't really catch me but the mystery plot seems interesting. 2 seconds of TeeFranc look intriguing. Will wait for official trailer but will probably watch for the mystery.

A Dog and a Plane: Scruffy first responder x prim flight attendant who's getting cheated on by his pilot boyfriend. This looks extremely fun. TayNew and MarcPoom has me seated. Jojo directing again. Second most hyped show for me. Will definitely watch.

Me and Thee: Teaching an out of touch mafia boss how to court someone. Looks like a lot of fun. PondPhuwin seem to alternate between uni and mafia, good for them. Directed by X. Will almost definitely be watching.

Wu: Probably BL but could also be bromance, the Pilot wasn't definitive but from the discussion afterwards I'm leaning towards BL. Either way, down on his luck athlete fated to protect supernatural fortune teller kinda guy. This story seems to be in its early developement stage still but SkyNani/NaniSky has my full attention and what we've seen of the concept so far looks very promising. Looking forward to this. Will be watching.

Memoir of Rati: Period BL, translator of French diplomats falls in love with some sort of nobleman. IFYLITA vibes. GreatInn are a perfect fit for a period BL. AouBoom look promising as well. Personally not a big period drama enjoyer but this looks very good. Will almost definitely be watching.

Ticket to Heaven: Return of Aof, based on real events, slight period + heavy christianity. Aof is angling for his next award with this one. Looks very good, more queer cinema than BL. Not the biggest fan of GeminiFourth but they're talented and this will be really good probably. Have to watch it for my ultimate bias Aof, anyway. Will be watching.

Overall thoughts: 16 out of 20 BL is crazy, so much for the fear that Gmmtv will switch to focus on bromance. Would have liked some more GL but what we're getting looks good. In general this lineup has me very excited. There's not a single pilot that made me instantly say "Nope" this time. Even the one single straight show which I'll probably skip, looks very good. We're getting a good variety of genres and moods as well. Also not a single remake afaict.

The new BL trend for 2025 seems to be superstition and mystery. I'm very happy with that.

All shows in order of my hypedness:

Extremely hyped:

Only Friends: Dream On

A Dog and a Plane

Excited:

Girl Rules

Wu

Me and Thee

Love You Teacher

Not really excited but looking forward to because it will most likely be good:

Burnout Syndrome

Ticket to Heaven

Memoir of Roti

This will be fun:

Dare You to Death

MU-TE-LUV (this is an average, only FLYN would be a lot higher, the rest without them would be lower)

My Romance Scammer

Whale Store xoxo

That Summer

Looks interesting enough:

Boys in Love

Melody of Secrets

My Magic Prophecy

Cat for Cash

Head 2 Head

I'm happy for the het show enjoyers because this looks really good but I don't really care:

I Love "A Lot Of" You

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

Today I'd like to show all the Thoughts that we encountered in the game, but didn't end up Internalizing. I think that the more you see of these, the more of a complete picture you get of Harry.

GUILLAUME LE MILLION

Temporary research bonus: -1 Logic: Head in the clouds

PROBLEM:

Whatever happened to Guillaume Le Million, who -- with his amber mane and sparkling teeth -- beguiled the tattered remains of the nation? While you suffered and suffered, did he dematerialize in a cloud of cocaine dust? Or did he simply stand in the corner and melt into the slendering *New* lines of some starlit boîte de nuit twenty years ago? Spare a thought for his great ass too! Or wait... maybe he became a police officer in Revachol West! Hmm...

Completion bonuses: +1 Pain Threshold: Blood oxygen is boring All PSY learning caps raised by one

SOLUTION:

Bad news: Guillaume le Million did not become a cop. In '38 he went on a tour to the Hsin-Yao province in Safre, where he died of auto-erotic asphyxiation. His body was found hanging from a decorative dragon tree in his junior suite, amid drug paraphernalia, unwholesome objects, and the Sylvia Trainor single "Wonderland" skipping in the background. And yes, you can take this as a metaphor for Revachol in the Thirties. And also as a warning.

DETECTIVE COSTEAU

Temporary research bonus: -2 Conceptualization: An idiotic idea

PROBLEM:

Detective Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau -- when you say it, it feels like you're taking a bite of lemon meringue while sitting on the terrace of a seaside cafe. On a cool summer day. In Sur-La-Clef. It's everything you're *not*. You haven't created many things during your stay in Martinaise, but you've created this. A fancy, sophisticated name that makes you sound intelligent. And that no one seems to *acknowledge*. Don't you feel like you deserve a reward for coming up with something so special? And what would that reward *be*?

Completion bonuses: +1 Savoir Faire: This one sounds fancy, let's have this +1 Esprit de Corps: Yup, fancy, let's have this one too

SOLUTION:

Monsieur Costeau, the reward for coming up with your classy new name has arrived. What are the attributes Detective Costeau should gain in? *Obviously* Savoir Faire and Esprit de Corps. You know *exactly* what they do and what those words mean. They're *refined*. Like *you*. You have a ton of that fancy stuff. And if the world can't accept Raphaël Ambrosius is your name -- you will always be Detective Costeau to yourself. R.A. Costeau -- sophisticated culture-detective. Specializes in ancient things and art.

BOIADEIRO

Temporary research bonus: -1 Physical Instrument: Astra Country

PROBLEM:

It has been brought to your attention that there are men who live by the law of the land and the strength of their arms. Sunburnt, rugged, smoking men who explored the great rivery veins of upper-Magritte and tamed the Mundi wilds. Frontiersmen, cow-herders, philosophers -- the *boiadeiros*... with a gun in one hand and an unfiltered cigarette between their lips, these men made their own rules. What would it take for you to become one too?

Completion bonuses: -1 Esprit de Corps: Lone wolf Cigarettes give +2 INT

SOLUTION:

Smoking, Harry. It will take a lot of tobacco-smoking for you to become a *boiadeiro*. Twin cigarettes fused to your lips and one hanging out of your nostril. In these tame, cultured times, without the sky’s dome above your head, the only way to be a true Franconigerian individualist is to smoke a lot of cigarettes. Light one up immediately. The smell of coffee brewing over a fire pit, a chestnut-flavoured morning. Welcome to Astra Country.

I'm not sure we ever actually encountered cigarettes in the course of our playthrough. Normally, they give +1 INT at the cost of 1 Health -- this improves the effect.

MAGNESIUM-BASED LIFEFORM

Temporary research bonus: -1 Shivers: No shakes

PROBLEM:

It is generally understood that human beings are carbon-based organisms, fusing little carbon tubes together to form complex, mushy structures capable of thought, love, and locomotion. It is also known that these structures sometimes like to “take the edge off” by consuming ethanol, amphetamine, etc. In such cases, it is important to supplement your body with magnesium. Tired? Mag it! Down? Mag time! Liver damage? MAXIMUM MAG! Some people say magnesium doesn’t really do anything and you just need to quit. What do we tell them?

Completion bonuses: +2 Volition: Magnesium receptacle glands -1 Logic: No such thing, man

SOLUTION:

We tell them: HELL NO. You’re about to become a magnesium-based lifeform. The age of the primitive carbon-man is done. No longer must mankind rely on slow-working background radiation to take us further into our genetic destiny. This is the era of guided evolution, and magnesium is the key. You are the first of your species. The next step in human evolution. An advanced magnesium proto-man who mags it up, drinks it down, and sniffs it sideways!

A pretty useful Thought if you have low PSY.

BRINGING OF THE LAW (LAW-JAW)

Temporary research bonus: -1 Rhetoric: Weird jaw

PROBLEM:

Hey, so a little observation. It's all cool, man. Don't freak out, but every time you say “I am the law“ -- and you say it *a lot*, it's basically *hello* for you -- your jaw does this *weird thing*. It sort of shifts sideways, hanging off your face at a jaunty angle, while the word *law* sounds oddly guttural and low. It's... strange. You wouldn't notice it, but after saying you're the law eighty thousand times, the question *does* come up: why *do* you have Law Jaw?

Completion bonuses: Learning cap for Hand/Eye Coordination raised to 6 Succeed all Hand/Eye Coordination passives -1 Rhetoric: Jaw still weird

SOLUTION:

Okay, so. We now know why you have *Law Jaw*. Why you say *the law* in a weird manner, and why your jaw does that thing. You had polio as a child. You hadn’t gotten vaccinated. It must've been right after the Revolution -- not a lot of vaccine going around then. So you got infantile paralysis due to polio and this jaw thing is a complication from that. Admittedly, it’s not very funny. But you *overcame* it! This little infant survived and became a sharpshooting supercop. So: fuck you, polio!

This is a pretty useful Thought *and* it tells us something, in my opinion, pretty important about Harry.

ANTI-OBJECT TASK FORCE

Temporary research bonus: -2 Pain Threshold: Hurts!

PROBLEM:

Take a look at your hands. See how bruised they are? See those little scars? This is Exhibit A. The material world is holding you back. Containers, mailboxes, doors, chairs -- they are all your enemies. Always have been. Atoms themselves are in on the conspiracy, forming shapes and structures that you hate. You are energy stuck in a body. You are spirit trapped in matter. Break free! Beat up that lamp post! Let it know just how much objects *suck*.

Completion bonuses: Attacking physical objects heals damage +1 Pain Threshold: Thick skin All FYS learning caps raised by one

SOLUTION:

Behold: the Anti-Object Task Force has assembled. God's avenging angel, arrayed against the lower emanations of the Darkened One: shoe racks, tape recorders, motor carriages. And doors. So many doors. You're not just pounding it all to pieces. You’re *reforging* the universe. From the anvil of the heavens to the worms below. Indulge in it. Be bold. Have an *impact* on the shape of Creation. Out of the furnace of your rage -- a new reality! Also, you should trash your room *again*.

The first bonus here is not as useful as it sounds, because by the time you unlock this Thought, you'll have already been through most of the attackable things in the game. The rest is still pretty good, though.

DATE OF BIRTH GENERATOR

Temporary research bonus: None

PROBLEM:

Your face looks like it’s 58 and your body feels like it’s 60. Your mind feels like it’s lived for one day or a hundred. Both longer than they ought to be, the day and the century.... But for how long, then, has this thing attached to your sentience walked the planet’s crust? Time to start racking those brains of yours, Elder One. When and where were you born?

Completion bonuses: Learning cap for Logic raised to 4 -1 difficulty to all Physique passives

SOLUTION:

You were born in the year ‘07, in the last year of the Commune of Revachol, right before it fell. In the Old Military Hospital, on the ground floor where people usually came to die, during a snowstorm. The Revolution had about one year left to go and the fires were still burning bright. There were explosions in the blizzard. This was 44 years ago. You are 44 years old. The bloating might never leave your face, but beneath it -- you still have some years. You still have some hope.

I believe you can talk about this with Kim once you have the answer.

ARNO VAN EYCK

Temporary research bonus: +1 Interfacing

PROBLEM:

The question won’t leave you – why did the melody line from a broken and discarded tape fit perfectly into a song played by some speedfreaks in a frozen tent? Can it be a coincidence? Maybe it’s the hand of the Man-Machine himself, in his attempt to craft a perfect song. Maybe Egg Head is actually Arno van Eyck in disguise!? Eyck? Egg? Hmm...

Completion bonuses: All white Motorics checks unlocked Reveals Arno Van Eyck gig posters in the world

SOLUTION:

Okay, so Egg Head is clearly not Van Eyck in disguise. Van Eyck is an Oranjese disc jockey -- but those people get around. Especially in Revachol, in the clubs on Boogie Street. Perhaps he stayed here for a short stint and discarded part of the song he was working on. Just threw it away. And then it ended up in the hawthorn tree. But why? Did he think it was *retrograde*? It wasn’t. Perhaps he caught a glimpse of the future and did not want for it to arrive just yet. Perhaps the city whispered the topline to him and he was frightened by it?

We've seen variations on this one before for other skill categories. The Arno Van Eyck posters give you additional orbs to click, which synergises nicely with Jamais Vu.

Egg Head also directly told us that his name was in reference to Van Eyck at one point, so that was not really much of a mystery.

SEARCHLIGHT DIVISION

Temporary research bonus: None

PROBLEM:

Missing persons cases just really get to you. It's hard watching people worry about their loved ones – the little nervous movements, the dark rings around their eyes from sleepless nights. And even if there are no loved ones waiting – you like to have all your ducks in a row, and it really bothers you when whole entire people aren't accounted for.

Completion bonus: +2 Perception: Clear-eyed pursuit of truth

SOLUTION:

You've sharpened your senses by being on the lookout for missing persons. Now you notice more of what's happening around you. Perhaps when you're done with this case, you can join the Searchlight Division of the RCM, and find every Revacholian that's ever gone missing without a trace (there is undoubtedly a backlog of such cases). Because you never know, a missing person could be just around the edge, barely out of sight.

ONE MORE DOOR

Temporary research bonus: +1 Half Light: What is behind it?

PROBLEM:

God dammit, it cannot be. A disgrace! That door on the coast... you remember the one, right? The one that leads to the abandoned supply depot? Why, in the name of all that's holy, does it not open? *Why*?! There *has* to be a way to get through that unopenable door. By gods, you're the police -- all doors are supposed to open before you. What will the others at the precinct think if you can't open a goddamn door? There must be a way.

Completion bonuses: -1 Half Light: No fear All PSY white checks unlocked

SOLUTION:

There is no way to open the supply depot door. Accept it. You cannot open *all the doors*. You have to integrate this into your character. Some doors will forever remain closed. Even if every single other door will open at one time or another, maybe to a key, or maybe to some sort of tool meant for opening doors... But this one will never accede to such commands. A realization crucial to personal growth. Crucial.

There will always be one more door.

HARDCORE AESTHETIC

Temporary research bonus: -2 Interfacing: Fuck grammar!

PROBLEM:

Not only have you internalized the Hard Core Aesthetic, you’ve also *contributed* to it. How harder-core could you possibly become? Low-core people come around you to correct your “typos”: it’s “Hardcore” here, “hard-core” there, “Hardorcore” in a third instant -- what’s going on? Those aren’t typos, man, that’s how core hardness works. If you don’t know “hard-core” from “Our Happy Hardcore,” what the fuck are we even talking about?

Completion bonuses: +1 Endurance: Really useful for doing drugs +1 Volition: Same thing, Hardman

SOLUTION:

Oh yes. Drugs. We’re talking about drugs. Let’s face it, these flirtations with the Hard Core Aesthetic have all been leading up to one question: Can I do drugs *harder* now that I’m a Hard Cop? And the answer is: yes. You can. You can do one more blast of pyrholidon and yellow shit-powder, you can even pull a ciggie and a lager on top of that. There. You’ve *truly* made the Hardcore your own thing now.

Despite what it says on the tin, this actually just gives you more health.

THE INSULINDIAN MIRACLE

Temporary research bonus: None

PROBLEM:

You were reminded of a poem, somewhere deep inside you, the translation of which you don't remember… "Nulla sarà cambiato della luce!” it begins. “Colori come grigio e marrone / Tutti stampati uno sull’altro / Trovai un vuoto / Una macchia Bianca / Gli altri guardarono / “Che bella giornata! Che bel tempo!” / Ma sentii la rotativa." You were reminded of it when you heard about the discovery of Insulinde. But what does it mean? And how do you know it by heart?

Completion bonuses: All white checks unlocked

SOLUTION:

It’s easy. You know the poem by heart because you were taught it at school. It is one of the Volta do Mar mantras repeated on the voyage that lead to the discovery of the Insulindian isola. And the words mean: “Nothing will be changed about the light! / Colours like grey and brown / All printed on top of each other / I found a blank white spot / All the others looked up: / ‘What a beautiful day! What beautiful weather!’ / But all I heard was the printing machine." What strange words to celebrate a new world.

You can only unlock this Thought when talking with Joyce after the confrontation with Ruby, making it a really useful tool if you have anything left to do in the game at that point.

And that's all the Thoughts that we encountered in our playthrough, aside from the ones we already saw in the game proper. We did also *technically* get to the point where we could have seen the Thoughts for the moralist and ultraliberal political alignments, even if we chose not to opt into them. So, I'll show those too:

KINGDOM OF CONSCIENCE

Temporary research bonus: -2 Half Light: Calm water

PROBLEM:

Heartache is powerful, but democracy is *subtle*. Incrementally, you begin to notice a change in the weather. When it snows, the flakes are softer when they stick to your worry-worn forehead. When it rains, the rain is warmer. Democracy is coming to the Administrative Region. The ideals of Dolorian humanism are reinstating themselves. How can they not? These are the ideals of the Coalition and the Moralist International. Those guys are signal blue. And they're not only good -- they're also powerful. What will it be like, once their nuanced plans have been realized?

Completion bonuses: Moralist dialogue heals 1 Morale Learning cap for Volition raised to 5 Learning cap for Logic raised to 5

SOLUTION:

The Kingdom of Conscience will be exactly as it is now. Moralists don't really *have* beliefs. Sometimes they stumble on one, like on a child's toy left on the carpet. The toy must be put away immediately. And the child reprimanded. Centrism isn't change -- not even incremental change. It is *control*. Over yourself and the world. Exercise it. Look up at the sky, at the dark shapes of Coalition airships hanging there. Ask yourself: is there something sinister in moralism? And then answer: no. God is in his heaven. Everything is normal on Earth.

INDIRECT MODES OF TAXATION

Temporary research bonus: -2 Empathy: Cold blooded

PROBLEM:

First, if you have a side-bitch ideology cooking somewhere, don't sweat it. Fightin' indirect taxation for the Gossamer State is compatible with *all* creeds. It's cool like that. You're a cool anarchist now. Unless you don't want to be an anarchist. Whatever! Stuff this meal ticket in your eye-socket and let's see if we can steal some *love* back from the robber barons at the customs agency and the *banditos* at The Insulindian Financial Oversight and Competition Committee.

Completion bonuses: -1 Empathy: Thinks he's a hustler or something Ultraliberal dialogue options give +1 real

SOLUTION:

Turns out those Financial Oversight Committee gangsters stuffed millions of hard-earned dividends away in the last place anyone thought to look: the hearts and minds of everyday Revacholians! You need to spread that deregulation gospel to the *people*. Tell them about that foreign fare tax. Preach that 98% gross burden. Preach it, preacher man! Set the brothas free. Taxes are racist.

Even with those, there are still *eighteen* Thoughts remaining in the game that we didn't encounter - either because we didn't have high enough stats, didn't pick the right dialogue options, or chose not to put any points into fascism. Some of them are mutually exclusive with Thoughts we did pick, some require *really complicated* methods to find. A few of them give us some more interesting backstory on Harry and Kim that's worth hearing -- but I'll let you uncover that on your own time.

[joelalorian]

Whisked Away

Dave York x f!reader | WC: 3200+ | Masterlist

Summary: Dave York is full of surprises. A secret getaway leads to the next step in your life with Dave. A follow-up to my one-shot Blown Away, but could be read as a standalone.

My contribution to @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs Creative Challenge.

No warnings for this one - it's pretty tame with some humor, fluff, and a teensy bit of angst. No use of y/n. Reader is pretty much a blank slate with hair.

Sunlight reflected off the crystal blue waters as the small plane descended over the luxury resort town. Your mouth dropped open at the view.  

“Welcome to Secret Springs,” the pilot announced over the radio. “The best-kept secret this side of the Rockies. Hope you all enjoy your stay.”

Dave refused to tell you a thing about this surprise getaway to celebrate your first anniversary together, the only information he offered limited to advice on what to pack. Even in your wildest dreams, you didn’t expect a trip to somewhere so extravagant.

Quaint like Cape Cod, the town was rich with culture and life, an air of money and vibrant excitement wafting through town the moment you stepped out of the airport. Artisanal shops and cafes lined both sides of the cobblestone street, the hired driver pointing out his favorite spots to recommend. Dave nodded in response to the recommendations he agreed with – apparently, he did a lot of preparation for this little getaway.

Your mouth dropped open again when the car pulled up in front of a stately inn, the wrap around porch and beautiful awnings restored to its once historical perfection. “Dave,” you breathed in astonishment as you walked inside, eyes widening at the silver leaf domed ceiling and hand carved wooden grand staircase. “This is too much.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, placing a kiss on the crown of your head after slipping the attendant a tip for taking care of your luggage. “This is exactly enough. Come on.” His handsome face split into a cheeky grin.

A weight had lifted from Dave’s shoulders after he quit the DIA and the contract work. Now, there was a bounce to his step and a brightness to his burnt umber eyes. You smiled lovingly watching him stride to the concierge and followed as Dave led you up the grand staircase to your third-floor suite. Good thing the attendant took care of the luggage for you both – there was no elevator in this historical treasure.

Breath once again stolen from your lungs, you shuffled into the large room, eyes taking in every little detail from the ornate, mahogany four-post bed to the clawfoot tub to the bay windows overlooking the lush landscape below. You could just see the water sparkling in the sunshine in the distance. The room was resplendent in antique furnishings, and, certain you’d never stayed anywhere quite so beautiful, you hesitated to touch anything for fear of breaking something priceless.

Flopping back onto the plush mattress, you giggled when Dave plopped down on his side next to you. Right arm bent to support his head, he stared down at you with those soulful puppy eyes, a smile curving his pouty lips.

“Did I make you happy?” Dave asked, fingertips blazing a gentle path down the side of your face.

“You always make me happy, Dave,” you replied in a soft voice. “But, right now, I’m downright euphoric.”

Chuckling, Dave leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm,” you giggled, pulling his face close for another kiss, this one deeper and sweeter, stoking the fire building inside you. “I think I should show you special thanks for making me delirious with happiness.”

“I like the sound of that,” his voice rumbled from deep within his chest as he pulled you up from the bed. “Let’s test out that tub before dinner.”

Filled with hot water and copious amounts of bubbles, the clawfoot tub was a luxury you wished you could take home with you when this trip ended. More than large enough for two, you could spend all night in there cuddled against Dave’s chest with his arms wrapped around you. Lovely and romantic, it gave honeymoon vibes, and, not for the first time, you wondered what it would be like to be married to Dave, though you dared not mention if for fear of scaring him away. During your time together, you got the sense he didn’t want to get married again, though he never explicitly said so.

Your vivid dreams and imagination pictured lazy afternoons, sketching him and the girls in your book as they played together in the yard, trips to the park and the mall, holidays full of merriment, maybe even a dog. A large, fluffy thing always happy to see you and chase the girls around the yard.

You pictured a house in the mountains, exchanging suits and dress skirts for jeans and hiking boots at the end of the day. Taking long hikes on the weekends. Romantic candlelight dinners on the patio during the weeks the girls were at Carol’s.

There would be the usual responsibilities like work and school and bills and… but you shook that reality away in favor of focusing on the happiness and love of being together, of coming together and changing each other’s lives the way that you did.

It was a pretty picture.

Your fingers itched to draw it.

Your heart longed to live it.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, sweetheart?” Dave questioned after a period of prolonged silence. He always read you so well.

“Hmmm,” you hummed,” just imagining the future.”

His broad body practically engulfed you as his arms tightened. “Tell me,” Dave’s voice purred in your ear, a command you could not deny. So, heart in your throat, you told him all the precious things you imagined while he nuzzled into your neck. When you finished, he peppered kisses across your shoulders. “Is that what you want? A life with me and the girls?”

The moment of truth… and you froze. Dave’s tone gave nothing away. Terrified of rejection, however soft he was with you, you merely hummed noncommittally.

Dave chuckled warmly. “Mmhmm, I get it. We haven’t talked about the future yet and you don’t want to get hurt if I don’t want the same things as you,” he murmured, hot breath in your ear causing a wave of gooseflesh across your skin. He was too good at getting right to the heart of the matter.

“I’ll go first, then. Ok?” he asked, placing a kiss on the tender flesh right beneath your ear. “That is the life I want… with you. Getting married and living somewhere exactly like this, spending our lives together in a quaint town with lots to do and see, watching the girls grow up and flourish. In fact, I can’t think of anything I want more.”

“Really? That’s what you want?” Turning your head, you saw him nod reassuringly. “It’s just… you always made it seem like you didn’t want to get married again.”

A laugh slipped past his lips before he could stop it and your shoulders hunched in dejection. “No, sweetheart…” his arms tightened around you until your skin practically melded together. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I swear.”

Part of you didn’t believe him, your breath catching in your throat as he tried to explain himself.

“My life was so different before I met you, sweetheart. I didn’t think finding love again was possible, not the way that I lost myself in the darkness of the contract work. Carol and I had been together so long, it was comfortable, but not romantic, not like it used to be. I thought I’d never have that again, so I put it from my mind.”

Dave’s thick fingers grazed across your skin as he spoke.

“I fell for you fast and hard, and if I’m being honest, it scared me a little. I couldn’t bring you into my life the way it was – it would have been unfair to you. It was already unfair to Carol and the girls… I couldn’t tell her everything, that’s part of why Carol wanted a divorce. I found myself wanting to tell you everything, to be a better man for you and the girls.”

“Dave—” He cut you off to continue his train of thought.

“Without realizing it, you gave me a reason to quit that life and all the things that made me unhappy,” he said, strong arms turned you to face him. His dark eyes glistened in the low light of the bathroom. “The past year has been amazing and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you how seriously I take what we have. I do want to get married again… to you. And only to you. When you’re ready.”

Tears leaked from your eyes, mixing with the tiny droplets of water still falling from your wet hair. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m glad we want the same things,” you said, voice rough from fighting back the tears for so long.

“Me, too. I love you, sweetheart.” Dave kissed you deeply then, teasing his tongue into your mouth. When he finally pulled back, he added, “I have another surprise to show you after dinner. After this conversation, I’m certain you’ll love it.”

“Just how many surprises have you been hiding from me?” you questioned with a grin.

“Just this last one, I promise.”

“I love you, Dave York.”

Dinner consisted of exquisite, tapas-style portions of tuna tartare, pan-seared scallops, mini beef wellingtons, and a few other delicacies cooked to perfection. Savory flavors burst across your palette with each bite. You didn’t want the culinary experience to end, especially when dessert included the most decadent chocolate mousse concoction that nearly had you orgasming at the table.

Appetites sated and senses dulled by a heady wine buzz, Dave escorted you down the sidewalk along the main street, your hands clasped with fingers entwined. The evening air was warm and dry without being oppressive, a gentle breeze tickling your skin and rustling your hair as you walked.

“I love you,” you blurted happily, feelings for this amazing man suddenly overwhelming, especially after your confessions earlier and the romantic dinner you just shared. His grip tightened around your hand as his lips curled up into a smile. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Could this evening get any better? Could this life you were building together get any better? You didn’t think so.

Dave slowed to a stop in front of an empty store front. “Here we are.”

Confused, you glanced around, searching for evidence of the surprise he told you about. All you saw were dark, empty windows and a tinted glass door giving nothing away. Seeing your bewildered expression, Dave stepped back towards the cobblestone street, pulling you with him, and pointed upward.

An artful marquee sparkled brightly above you, finally cluing you in to what he wanted you to see. “Whisked Away Art Gallery,” you read aloud in a shaky voice, “very whimsical.” After a moment, you turned to Dave with wide, wondrous eyes. “What is this?”

His resulting grin and excited, warm eyes melted your heart. “This is your art gallery, sweetheart.”

You gulped. Did you hear that right? Surely not. “Mine?” you questioned. “What do you mean my art gallery?”

Smile never dropping, Dave motioned you to follow him as he unlocked the door and led you inside, one hand reaching out to flick the lights on.

“I bought it, for you. It’s yours, baby. You can display your work and that of any other artists you chose. It’s time you shared your work with the world. It’s too good to keep hidden in that sketchbook of yours.”

His words washed over you without absorbing into your bewildered brain. Too fixated on staring around the large, empty space with your mouth open, imagination running wild as you envisioned various pieces artfully displayed on the walls. Shaking your head, you asked him to repeat what he said. You couldn’t believe it.

“But… how? I mean, it must have cost a fortune in a town like this. And how am I meant to—”

Pressing a thick finger to your lips, Dave cut off your impending spiral. “Remember that future we talked about earlier? This is the next step in building the life we want. You fell in love with this town as quickly and deeply as you fell in love with me. That’s gotta be a sign, right? This town was meant for us.”

You melted against his chest. How did he always know exactly what to say to you?

“You want to live here in Secret Springs? Together?” You spoke into Dave’s neck, lips grazing the skin.

“I know we haven’t talked about officially moving in together, but we’re always together at your place or mine. I thought maybe it’s time to take the next step,” he explained. A moment later, he hesitantly added, “Would you like that?”

You leant back, placing your hands on either side of Dave’s face, and stared directly into his beautiful brown eyes. “I would love that. A life with you is all I want.” You kissed him, letting your lips convey the depth of your feelings, your happiness instead of your words.

The world around you disappeared as Dave gave in fully to the kiss, the coil inside your core tightening with each playful stroke of his tongue against yours. At the first moan that slipped past your lips into Dave’s mouth, he pulled back, eyes full of lust and breathing heavily.

“Let’s get back to the inn, sweetheart. I have an idea on how we can celebrate taking the next step in our relationship.” Without waiting for a response, Dave grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the gallery, stopping only long enough to lock the door behind him.

The inn wasn’t far, conveniently located in the heart of the small town, but the journey back still took too long for your liking. Your need for Dave nearly overwhelmed you when he tugged you through the front door of the inn and up the three flights of stairs, all the while ignoring greetings from the staff and other guests. He was a man on a mission.

The door to the suite barely clicked shut before Dave pounced. He left a trail of searing, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and along the bare skin of your shoulders, slipping the thin straps of your dress down your arms. Dexterous fingers pulled the zipper down as his mouth blazed a trail of kisses right behind the falling fabric.

Dave stepped back when you stood before him in nothing but a pair of black, lacy panties. “Damn, baby,” he breathed, dark eyes burning with desire as he drank in the sight of you. Pointing to the large, cushioned ottoman near the antique settee, Dave added, “Face down and ass up on the ottoman, sweetheart.”

Later that night, you laid in bed with your head resting on Dave’s chest, one ear pressed to his skin listening to his heart thump. Having forgotten to close the curtains earlier, moonlight danced across the room from the bay windows. You loved the ethereal glow it left on yours and Dave’s skin.

“Dave?” you asked, lifting your head to rest your chin on his chest. Head resting on a pillow propped against the wooden headboard, he peeked at you with sleepy eyes.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” You felt more than heard his response, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest.

A million questions swirled in your brain from the conversation earlier, but where did you start?

“How were you able to buy the gallery? It had to be expensive in such a hidden gem like Secret Springs.”

With a yawn, Dave ran a hand over his face before smoothing it down your back. “I, uh, made a lot of money doing that contract work. That’s why the boys and I started doing it to begin with – to support ourselves and our families when the military kicked us to the wayside. It turned out to be more lucrative than any of us expected. I made more than enough to make sure the girls are taken care of and build our new life together.”

He paused, giving you the opportunity to ask for specifics if you felt the need, but you didn’t. You knew enough of the man he used to be and the things he thought he had to do to give Carol and the girls a life worth living. He wasn’t proud of the things he had to do to survive, but at least he did them with good intentions.

“Besides, it wasn’t nearly as expensive as you might think. I am a very thorough negotiator.” Dave smirked as you rolled your eyes.

“What about the girls?” you questioned.

“What about them?” he returned with furrowed brows.

“Won’t we be too far from them to keep the visitation the way it is? I don’t want you to miss out on any time with them, not with how fast they’re growing up.”

This was probably your biggest concern. You didn’t want Dave to regret any moves he made with you if they impacted his relationship with his girls. A truly devoted father, he loved Alice and Molly to pieces, and you refused to be an impediment to that.

Silence filled the air like static and you panicked for a moment. Was this the moment he realized being with you, starting a new life would cost him too much in terms of time with his girls?

Dave shifted down the bed until your bodies curled together from head to toe and his dark eyes stared into your worried gaze.

“Stop worrying, sweetheart,” he said, his deep voice gentle and smooth. “It will all work out, I promise. Carol was offered a promotion with a relocation; her new office will be in the next town over. Believe it or not, she’s the one who told me about this place and set all this in motion.”

You beamed at him. “Funny how things work out, isn’t it?” You couldn’t help the ‘what if’ thought of what would have happened if you weren’t both ready to move into together? Would you have tried long distance?

Looking at you with a gooey warmth in his eyes, Dave kissed your lips. “I know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. Stop worrying. Everything is working out just as it is meant to. Don’t waste energy thinking about the what ifs. Besides, if things didn’t work out like this, I would have figured out another way to have you with me wherever life took me.”

Tears sprang to your eyes unbidden. You couldn’t help it. Strong feelings always made you cry, and you felt such overwhelming love for Dave in that moment, fighting back the tears would have been a complete waste of time.

“Baby,” Dave cooed, pulling you impossibly closer, worried about your tears.

“They’re happy tears, I promise,” you blubbered, the tears only coming faster as you added, “I’m just so in love with you.”

“Well, that’s good. I’m so in love with you, too. It would really suck if I was in this on my own,” he teased, one hand cradling your as he pressed his lips to yours in a watery kiss.

“Are we really going to live in this amazing town?” you asked a little while later after the overwhelming emotions settled.

“As soon as we find the perfect house. Speaking of, I talked to a realtor, and we have a few lined up to see the day after tomorrow.”

How was this your life?

Exhaustion finally took over and you dreamt of finding the perfect house and building a life in this beautiful paradise.

fin