#even if he didn't know they were the departed. actually /ESPECIALLY/ since he didn't know they were the departed

[savi-our]

Anti-Harem with OP Mage MC pt. 3 ft. Horrortale

Its 3 am- This... this is over 3k words.... I'm both cooking and cooked apparently bc this is even longer and more detailed than the last part, I honestly dont know what came over me. The ending is a bit rushed and im posting this half asleep and barely able to make sense of whether or not any of this is actually good but i wanted to post it before going off to sleep - i do hope you enjoy it though, even if by this point im not sure you can call it an anti harem... maybe ill explore that bit more in the next part.... (p.s. i would love love looove to hear you guy's thoughts on what ive cooked up here so please leave a comment if youre inclined to <3)

Part 1 Part 2

It had been a few weeks since the attack on the monster settlement and your work kept you busy. Black and Mutt had both been a welcome new change as far as your experience in monsters went, the three of you seemed to grow closer by the day - sharing the mutual burdens of your job whenever you had any amount of free time. You and Black formed a good professional relationship, often sharing insights on the progress of monster integration into the world outside, and Mutt - albeit avoidant, seemed to develop an interest in watching you whenever he thought you wouldn't notice. He even sometimes visited you whenever his brother had been busy, coming to your office to slump on your couch and waste away his free time, scrolling through his phone and trying not to get caught staring at you while you filed away paperwork.

It was on a particularly early morning that you had arrived at your office, still dazed from your lack of sleep when a new case appeared at your desk. You rarely did personal requests, but this one you could hardly refuse as it had come from one of the joint rulers of the Underground. 

Queen Toriel summoned you, and you listened as she told you her concerns about a particular percentage of her population having an especially difficult time with the integration process. You picked up on the finer details of her request - unspoken words to her plea.

You were aware of the spatial anomaly that had caused the particular brand of chaos that was currently plaguing Monsterkind, a rift that had caused a collision of alternates and pulled them all here. It was a guarded secret among the higher ranking officials, the details shared only to those who were known to be trusted - or to those who were smart enough to see beyond the fragile lie. You were both you supposed, the Archmage themselves requested your insight into the matter, and you offered to consult wherever you could. It didn't surprise you that the Queen turned to you for assistance - involved as you were in the matter.

You agreed to her request, you could hardly refuse considering the high brand on the paperwork, the signature of the Archmage looped in finer print at the corner of the page. You left promptly, assigning a trusted associate of yours to man the office while you were gone, unfortunately the urgency of your task bid no time to waste so you left without notifying the two skeletons that had seemed to be stuck in your orbit as of late, but that was the nature of things when you had such a demanding position.

You were relocated into the depths of the Underground, a rather lavish apartment greeting you in the shadow of the castle of the royal families, but you had little time to waste, the faster you got to work the smoother the integration process would be.

You met with those currently overseeing the progress of the whole thing, a joint department consisting of monsters, humans and mages - social workers, professors, doctors, therapists and volunteers - all with ample experience concerning the more particular quirks that came with joining cultures and assessing risks where there were any. Your status would do you more harm than good here - you realize early on, advised by the royal court to take a more personal approach as you shed down your heavy coats and branded insignias - monsters in the underground were still rather wary of mages, especially ones as infamous as you. You took on the faux position of a well renowned inspector, and set yourself to figuring out what the problem was and how best to solve it.

It was there that you met them, two new yet rather familiar faces that were introduced to you as the spokespersons for the rebuffed population, Twilight and Dusk by name. 

Twilight was large, even by monster standards, a lean silhouette that towered over any others in the room with a set of jagged teeth and a weathered look to his eyes. His appearance however, seemed to be rather misleading. He was friendly, overly so, extending his hand to you in his introduction as he shook yours with a controlled precision, his crooked grin lifted, delighted to meet a new face among the many who were already so familiar over his long stay in the program. He was chatty, friendly even, a social butterfly that delighted in telling you about the many state of affairs that flitted about the establishment. There were some quirks however… every now and again he confused words, voiced idioms that you could hardly make sense of - something about frisbees. He had ticks, nervous habits and moments of sudden cautious anxiety that brought concerns to your mind, there were times where he seemed almost manic, a rattling in his bones as he flitted about the room as if trying to burn off excess magic, trying to keep his hands and mind occupied.

Then there was Dusk. Like his brother he was considerably larger than the average monster. He was bulkier, bigger, an imposing presence in the room that set even your nerves on edge. He seemed dangerous, more than any of the other monsters you've come across, something in your mind whispered caution as you introduced yourself. The best word you could use to describe Dusk was heavy, both literally and metaphorically. He dragged his words as if he practically pulled them from the depths of his mind, his movements were slow, weighed almost by some unforeseen force you could not comprehend, and every now and again he lost focus, a single red eyelight dilated and staring promptly into nothing. His mind was both sharp and slow at the same time, he often shared insights that were surprising in their outside perspective, he commented on things that others had passed by in their expertise - drawing attention to underlying issues that had been overlooked due to the fact that nobody had really thought of them as issues before he made comment. He had a finer eye for detail, but at the same time there were moments where he'd lose his train of thought, a byproduct of his severe head wound no doubt, words forgotten on the tip of his tongue - moments like those seemed frustrate him quite badly, his fingers pulled on his one blank eye socket in quiet irritation. On his better days he'd make offhanded puns that were rather dark in theme - cannibalism seemed to be a favorite of his. On his bad days his voice turned cold, words sharp as his grin pulled on his face almost maniacally, he was tense, guarded like a cornered dog ready to bare teeth.

It had taken you some time to get situated in your new environment, you spent your days meeting with the other monsters who shared similar ailments to both Twilight and Dusk, consulting with the people directly responsible for their integration process and finding correlations between things that worked best and those that didn't work at all. A common pattern in all of those monsters became clear days after your assignment, the heightened cases of sudden anxiety and panic attacks. It was odd to you for some reason, it wouldn't be unnatural for this particular batch of alternates to suffer from such things, considering what you knew they had gone through back in their own reality, but something about it seemed odd.

You investigated your suspicions further, repeatedly meeting monsters and doctors alike, questioning them about the intricacies of their ailments, trying to garner light on the plausible cause for the widespread issue. Twilight seemed eager to help you, he often accompanied you in your search for more information, more knowledge, and his assistance proved quite useful - when you questioned him as to why he seemed so willing to assist you, he responded with an abashed admission - a want to help the monsters who were struggling most finally see the light of day, to taste the fresh air of the outside world, they had been stuck underground for too long. He often stayed with you after hours, organizing papers and research as you delved into the mystery with a hyper focused obsessiveness. You found you always became like this, obsessive over things you could not define or explain, it was that part of you that had helped you rise in power as fast as you had, starved for answers, eager to explore and redefine the things unknown to you- it was almost nostalgic in a way.

 Twilight had a talent for filling blanks in your knowledge, unfamiliar territory as this was he often offered you more insight in the particularities of monster illnesses and behavioral patterns that you were not privy to. You often asked him for clarifications and added depth to your research and he provided them eagerly - either through his own knowledge or systematically organized interviews and research papers that were color coordinated and alphabetized neatly on your desk. He had a knack for organization that one, but you couldn't help but notice how his expression soured whenever he had to bend to lift a particularly heavy box of files off the floor - he tried to hide it, face turned away and the occasional popping of bones concealed by the clear of his throat, but you noticed. You tentatively questioned him about it one late evening, not wishing to pry more than he was comfortable with. He seemed embarrassed by your attentiveness but didn't deny it, hands clasped and pulling on his long fingers in a nervous habit. He revealed to you that the current brand of healing magic and medicine could do very little for his deteriorated state, the effect was not potent enough or so it seemed. The fact didn't sit right with you, and you decided in your mind that you could multitask.

Your research prolonged, and your frustrations grew as the answer to your questions evaded you. You began to spend more time in your office than in your pristine afforded apartment, head buried in books and rushed consultations between experts in the department. Your obsessiveness seemed to grow, and with it your attention to your health lessened, overtaken by a constant hunger for answers. That hunger seemed to replace your baser instincts however, and one particularly busy day the consequences of your declining attention to your physical state seemed to catch up with you.

 You had been on your way to another scheduled meeting with an on site surgeon, carrying a closed file with a hurried pace, you were far too absorbed in your head to notice the shake of your own fingers, or the way the corners of your vision blurred. You were so absorbed in fact, that you didn't even notice the sudden approach of Dusk from the hall across from you. You had ran right into him, nose buried in the plush of his sweater as you had your senses knocked right out of you. The contact didn't even phase him, and he had caught you by the forearm to steady you. You had apologized, noting how it was unlike you to be so distracted in your surroundings. He hadn’t seemed to mind, his large eyelight coming to a soft focus on the point of contact with your arm. 

The force of your run in with him had knocked the file you were carrying onto the ground however, and as you leaned down in your hurry to grab it the world around you spun. You lost your bearings, and your vision turned to black as you fainted, vaguely aware of the pull of someone's arms around you.

You had woken up in one of the medical rooms, an IV in your arm and a growing headache in the corner of your mind. Dusk was there too, hunched in an office chair that was far too small for his hulking frame, you would have laughed - if you hadn't felt like shit at the time that is. Your movement seemed to wake him from his zoning out, and he had leveled you with a look that you couldn't readily discern - something of a mix between worry, scrutiny and confusion. The doctor on hand had walked in to check up on you, cautioning you to pay better attention to your health, you had felt like a child, embarrassed with your own state. Dusk had sat silent next to your bed while you were being discharged, and as you stood to leave with an order to go home and get some rest from the doctor, he stood with you.

The skeleton escorted you home, a silent but unmistakable presence at your side and as you were ready to thank him and say your goodbyes at your door, he had asked you when you had last gotten something to eat - you couldn't give him a straight answer. 

He had pushed his way inside your temporary home then, and you questioned him in your confusion as he opened your fridge to find it mostly empty, he clicked his tongue, a low growling hum from the pit of his ribs as he pushed you down on your couch with a stern order to ‘wait here’

He blinked out of existence then, returning after a while with a greasy bag of food and he urged you to eat, pushing the bag in your lap despite your urge of protests. You complied, silently eating under the watchful eye of his softly dilated gaze.

From then on Dusk began to visit your office on a regular basis, bringing both you and Twilight regular meals and spending his time lounging in one of the bigger chairs available at the time, idly flipping through books. His presence seemed to anchor you, and often he knocked you out of your hyper focused state with a random pun or an offhand comment about the weather. It worked, your urgency had stilled to a healthy normal, mind clearer as both brothers had now taken to paying a keen interest in your physical condition. You still remembered the frantic lecture Twilight had given you after your little trip to the emergency room. He had begun to limit your time in the office after that, setting a healthy time table with a balanced schedule for both rest and work.

The growing connection between the three of you was plain as day, and as days passed you began to find the answers you were so desperately looking for. It was a regular day in the office when you finally solved the mystery - a calm afternoon spent in a comfortable conversation with the brothers over a cup of tea and some snacks Twilight had graciously shared. You had been brainstorming with the brothers, shooting off your theories for plausible causes when Dusk piped in with something that caught your attention. 

You almost dropped the cup of tea you had been idly cradling in your hand. Jumping up to your feet in a newly discovered frenzy, you rifled through a box of files that had been offhandedly pushed to the side, and as you flipped through a particular heavy file about dietary needs it was then that it hit you, something so simple and so overlooked - of course Dusk would have been the one to point it out. Your grin was almost manic in its excitement as the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place, and you turned to the brothers that had gathered behind you in their confusion. You pulled each of them down by their faces, placing a loud smack of your lips on both of their foreheads and watched their faces glow warm as you called them both a genius. You rushed out of the office, missing exchanged looks of embarrassment - eager to share and confirm your discovery.

It was simple really, so easy to miss in all the confusion of the spatial rift and the ongoing process of integration. It was the food that was making the monsters so sick and riddled with anxiety. Coming from a reality here there had been a significant shortage of food - the first response of the healthier populace had been to feed them, feed them as much as they wanted to eat, it was natural really. Except monster food - magical in nature had high levels of energy, too high for a population of monsters that had been previously so deprived of sustenance. It made their magic run rampant, fluctuate in its intensity with high highs and even lower lows. It was the same in humans, eating too much after starving made the patient sick and would effectively do more harm than good. The answer was right there all along, and you cursed yourself at not seeing it sooner.

Things moved quickly after that, you wasted no time to form a plan of order for a change in provisions, something less straining, human food imbued with magical properties was the natural choice. It would take time for the monster's conditions to stabilize, but after a few days on the new program you began seeing positive results. You had reported your success to the royal family and Toriel had once again summoned you for a showing of your solution. If things went as predicted, the rebuffed population would soon show results of steady improvement, they would finally be prime and ready for the further relocation process.

The queen had thanked you for your service and had shown you a rather unexpected act of kindness in doing so, inviting you over to her rooms for a private tea party where you both conversed not like high mage and ruler, but as two troubled souls with the weight of the world on each of your shoulders. It was pleasant, if not a bit awkward on your part, but Toriel seemed to have a knack for making someone feel welcome.

It was a couple of days before your departure that you had invited the skeleton brothers to your apartment for a celebration dinner, you had surprised them with a meal of your own making. Expertly following the guide of their new diet you had imbued it with your own magic, the fact seemed to fluster the brothers for some reason, but they were unwilling to comment as to the reason why. 

The evening trailed off in shared conversation, and as the hour grew late, the mood slightly sombered, it seemed like both Twilight and Dusk had something they had been meaning to confess for a while now, but it had never seemed like the right time. You had a feeling you knew what it was about - they weren't aware of just how much you knew about their past -you had been pretending to be a high ranking inspector after all, a secret as big as alternate realities wouldn't be handed off to someone as low down the hierarchy as that.

It was then that they opened up to you, a cautious whispered admission of their past sins, sins bred out of desperation and grief. In a moment of your own vulnerability you told them you knew, you knew and understood. You reassured them that it didn't change your opinion of them, you shared gentle words of encouragement, soft admissions of your own grief filled memories. 

You would not judge them for their past, because you saw in them a desperate wish for a better life, a fragile hope that they could learn to become monsters capable of loving themselves. 

Perhaps it was wrong, out of all the people in the world it was you who were the greatest threat to their continued existence. You realized you held their fragile future in your scarred hands, and decided to trust in the goodness in their souls.

[non-operator]

Death Mark II thoughts

I'm like 8 months late, but I finally finished it-- and by finish, I mean I watched a playthrough.

It's been a year, but just in case: Spoilers Below

I think it's pretty significant that in order to get the true ending, Yashiki has to make it extremely clear to Sakamoto that his relationship with Michiho and Himeko is completely platonic. In fact, it seems that this is the only difference between the Good and True Ending.

In the Good Ending, he doesn't get that message through and that leads to Sakamoto pushing The Departed even harder to distance themselves from Yashiki, ultimately leading to her demise. I think this outcome happens because Sakamoto's insistence that the two girls keep their distance still expresses to The Departed that there is still a real possibility that they can get together with Yashiki. And as much as they want love and marriage, I don't think that was their ultimate desire-- and I don't think Departed!Douryou was lying when she said she disapproved of student-teacher relationships.

So then, Yashiki making Sakamoto understand that his rapport with the girls comes from concern for their safety and taking their worries seriously rather than anything else is what turns the tide. That Sakamoto allows Michiho to continue to investigate with Yashiki implicitly tells The Departed that Yashiki isn't interested-- and as such, he won't take advantage of their love (for him).

When The Departed died, their excitement for marriage and (most likely undeveloped) love for their chosen grooms were exploited by the adults they trusted. At that age, even if they later turned to feel indifferent or even hate their husbands in time, it was a time they should've been allowed to cherish those emotions. Kind of like that one reading of Romeo and Juliet, where the tragedy lies in the fact that children were not allowed to experiment with love due to the adults and the situation around them. I think this is also shown with how Departed!Douryou just wanted Yashiki to acknowledge Departed!Michiho loves him even if he can't accept it. Just because he knows that it is a love that will fade or immature, it is a real emotion to the girls experiencing it and it would be cruel to disregard it; unlike the priests who took advantage of these feelings to arrange the marriage only to ignore them once they started the ritual, if that makes sense.

(It might also be why Sakamoto later apologizing and allowing Departed!Michiho to continue investigating with Yashiki plays into her survival and the True Ending achievement: before while she was worried about keeping the girls safe from a potential predator, Yashiki has already made it clear to her before this point that he's not interested in them, but her main issue laid in how the situation could be misconstrued from an outside perspective regardless of intentions; even if she did accept that Yashiki wasn't going to go after the girls, she was largely worried about the girls' reputation and future-- as well as the school's. It's only when Yashiki makes it clear to her that his concern involves the general student population with all the "disappearances" as well as actually listening to his (temporary) students that Sakamoto relents. The priests had been preoccupied with tradition and the appearance of the brides, even the standards of choosing the grooms and brides were based on social reputation, somewhat reminiscent of Sakamoto (even if she genuinely cared for the students, it was in a way that overlooked their actual thoughts and feelings [i.e. the rising fear of The Departed or in the girls' case, wanting to be listened to]). So Yashiki's stubborn compassion and perseverance created change in the girls' environment that gave audience to their voice in a way.)

Which is all to say: The Departed truly let go of their grudge and "changed" for the better/"chose their humanity" because Yashiki had been a safe person to love-- not because he would love them back, but because he never would. The "marriage" in the True Ending then is a way for The Departed to safely live out a romantic daydream without the fear that they'll be hurt by it, as they had been when they were sacrificed. And I think it's Yashiki's adamancy on maintaining that boundary as well as making it clear to the adults around him and pushing for them to change their focus to treasure the girls' opinions that pushed The Departed to hold hopes and dreams once again, which they entrusted to the real Michiho and Himeko.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Overprotective!Yandere X GN!Reader

Women in the office gawked at Theo as he walked by, shamelessly refusing to peel their eyes from the Adonis who walked among them. With dark wavy hair that framed his beauty mark speckled face and droopy emerald eyes always set into a warm smile, he was model material, yet refused to believe it. Theo was kind to everyone he spoke to, but no one could gain his full attention, and affection. That was reserved for his one and only best friend ❤️

❤️ Theo who was Reader's best friend since kindergarten

💀 Every life path Reader took, Theo took as well. They were his best friend, he just happened to have the same interests as Reader!

❤️ Besides, he didn't go to the same college as them and got into the same company in the same sales department just because he was good at numbers like Reader... he also needed to protect them!

💀 Reader was always a hard worker, they would often forget to eat meals while working overtime and would only sleep two hours a night if Theo wasn't there to gently keep them on track

❤️ And despite everyone referring to Reader as a cynical workaholic, Theo knew deep down that they were far too trusting

💀 Remember that girl in grade four who confessed to Reader at recess? Reader turned her down far too kindly! They made her think it was actually okay to be friends! Thank goodness Theo was there to threaten the kid to stay away protect his best friend from that weirdo

❤️ People often mistook the pair of besties for a couple, and that was just ridiculous!

💀 Yeah, the idea of Reader calling Theo their husband, kissing Reader's forehead each and every night, and instead of just tucking them into bed joining them in their shared bed made his heart clench in a funny way... they were just friends!

❤️ Just friends that were also roommates. The economy is terrible right now, just because they make enough money to live alone, didn't it make more sense to live together and save money?

💀 And Theo enjoyed cooking nutritional meals for his best friend! No instant ramen for Reader while Theo's around!

❤️ No, it wasn't jealousy whenever someone started hitting on Reader, he was just worried for them!

"Don't you think Jackson's a bit... creepy?" Theo asked his buddy while prepping dinner one night. Reader glanced up from their work laptop only briefly.

"Why do you say that?"

"Ah, I don't mean to sound rude! I'm sorry.. I just overheard him saying something pretty gross about Mrs. Kim.."

Jackson had asked Reader to grab a drink with him sometime just the other day, and he seemed like a genuinely kind dude. But Reader trusted Theo with their life, and wouldn't question anything he ever said, believing their best friend was simply incapable of lying. Reader grunted and went back to work, and Theo knew by that sound his bestie wasn't going out with Jackson anytime soon.

💀 Theo who could never admit to anyone, not even himself, that his relationship with Reader wasn't a healthy "friendship"

❤️ Convincing himself that his actions were completely normal things for friends to do was almost a full time job

💀 Sometimes he watched Reader sleep, admiring how their eyelashes fluttered as they dreamt ensuring that they were actually sleeping and not sneaking onto their computer

❤️ And breaking down into full blown hysterics when Reader doesn't text him back is just because he's so worried for them

💀 Reader always saw the error in their ways though, apologizing profusely when they finally came home from grocery shopping and seeing the results of forgetting to charge their phone

❤️ It was an especially hard day when Theo had to cut off his own mother. She said Theo was codependent on Reader! Reader doesn't know this though, they just heard that Theo's mother was criticizing their friendship

Reader was stopped at the front door, Theo draping his large frame over his best friend, his large eyes watering. "Please don't leave, (Reader)."

They sighed, wriggling an arm free to mess with Theo's hair. "The fridge is almost empty, dude."

"But it's raining outside!" Theo raised is voice unintentionally as he began to panic, spiraling into an anxiety attack. "What if you get sick? Please just stay home, I can order take out. Let's go shopping tomorrow!"

"Theo.."

"Please!" A sob choked out of the man as he seemingly lost his strength, collapsing against Reader as he stained their jacket with his tears. "I just want to keep you safe!"

Reader gave in, as they always did, guilt stabbing at their heart until they could calm Theo down and convince him they weren't leaving.

Even if Reader never fell in love with Theo, the man would be content just to be by Reader's side, forever being their one and only best friend. As long as he could continue protecting them, from bad dates conspiring to ruin Reader's life, from management that continuously accepted Reader's overtime volunteering, and from Reader's own silly bad choices... Theo was happy.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Begging for more Eddie Diaz smut, maybe some sort of one bed scenario somehow readers a paramedic on the team or something? Honestly I just want more of your writing

Oh my gosh, thank you so much! I personally love the one bed trope so I can absolutely deliver!

Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz x paramedic!fem!reader

summary: you and Eddie share a hotel room during a storm which forces the two of you to get closer

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) reader receives a hickey

The hotel room was cold when you entered it, the air from the vent blowing harder than it should have been, sending a chill down your spine. You wrapped your cardigan around you tighter to bring some warmth to your body.

You hadn't gotten to pick your room since the department was paying for it. There was a weather advisory and everyone was instructed to stay inside until it cleared. Because there was a limited amount of money, you were forced to share with Eddie, the man you had been crushing on for months.

Well, maybe "forced" wasn't the right word to use. When asked who wanted to pair up with you, Eddie practically leaped across the lobby and yanked the key out of Bobby's hand while saying that he would be happy to.

Sure, Eddie had flirted with you quite a bit, but you didn't think that he was actually interested in you like that. Especially not enough to share a hotel room with you indefinitely.

Eddie had been crushing on you bad. The second he saw you when both of your teams were responding to calls, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. He admired how quickly and efficiently you worked for far too long before Buck nudged him. Eddie turned to him and Buck looked at you for a brief second before nodding approval. He then dragged Eddie along so the two of them could actually get to work.

Over the past few months, the attraction between the two of you was so strong that it was becoming obvious to everyone in your departments. So obvious that everyone was teasing the two of you, asking when you were finally going to get together. That you would have loved to know the answer to. If he was flirting with you that much, surely he had feelings for you, right?

But Eddie wasn’t going to do anything about his attraction, because in his eyes, there definitely seemed to be something going on with you and Buck. He would always see the two of you joking around and laughing when calls were being finished up and he was feeling nothing but jealous. Kicking himself for not doing something sooner.

Why he was sharing a hotel room with his best friend’s girlfriend or fling or whatever, he didn’t know. But Buck didn’t seem to feel the need to stop him. He even seemed to encourage it, giving both of you a thumbs up with a smile as you got into the elevator. So, if anything, Eddie was just confused.

The hotel room door slammed behind you, causing you to jump. You turned to see Eddie who looked apologetic. He was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an LAFD hoodie. His hair was all a mess from running his fingers through it because of the stress, which somehow made him even more attractive.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, you didn't," you shook your head. Really, you were just taken aback by how attractive he was. It was so fucking unfair sometimes.

"You okay?" He asked, resting his hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'm good." You were perfect, actually. You were sharing a hotel room with the man you had been crushing on for months and there was nothing that could have ruined it.

"Me too. Oh, I could have sworn the room had two beds. I'll go see if we can get another room." Before he could get far enough, you grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him from leaving.

"No," you said. "It's okay. I mean, you don't mind sharing, do you?" You asked, your tone coming off more flirty than you intended, but you hardly minded. You were really trying to get the point across that you were interested in him, but he didn't seem to get any of the hints that you were dropping. The feeling was mutual, but Eddie thought you were just flirting with him because you could. He seemed to be a little oblivious when it came to people being interested in him. He didn’t know why he couldn’t figure it out. There could be a flashing neon sign above your head spelling out the words “I’m in love with you, idiot!” and the man still wouldn’t get the hint.

"Not if you don't. I can just sleep on the floor." Now you were going to have to spell it out for him.

"Eddie," you took him by the hands. "I want to share the bed with you." Share? As in…share?

"Oh," he nodded. "Are you sure?" How much clearer could you have been?

"Positive. In fact,” your hands moved to his waist and you wrapped your arms around it. “I want you to hold me while we fall asleep." That, he could definitely do. Now he was actually looking forward to going to sleep, hoping that being wrapped up in your arms would make all of the scary images of his traumatic memories fade away into silence.

“I-I could do that,” he replied as you rested your head on his chest. His hands hesitantly rested on your back, mindlessly rubbing up and down it gently with the pads of his fingers. You moved away before he was ready, pulling back to look him in the eye. You reached up and ran your hand through his hair, watching him close his eyes as you scratched at his scalp.

He had to hold back a moan and if he was that close to cumming just by you playing with his hair, what would he have done if you had actually fucked him? God, he really needed to get his mind out of the gutter. You weren’t going to sleep together. Well, you were, but not like that. He really needed to keep his urges to himself. Especially since you were taken. How many times was he going to have to remind himself of that before it stuck?

He was going to keep everything between the two of you strictly professional. And so were you. Maybe if you didn’t look into his honey brown eyes or his pretty pink lips, you wouldn’t want to do something that probably wouldn’t end well. You just had a feeling that if you slept together, it would have been a one night thing that had happened on a whim to never be spoken about again. And you didn’t want to risk that.

What you had with Eddie was good and you weren’t going to let your wanting to sleep with him ruin that. If nothing was going to happen between the two of you, you would have preferred it if it meant that you could keep Eddie in your life as long as fate would have allowed.

But the attraction was building up as you stared at each other. Nothing in sight but each other’s lips, the want building up inside as you both inched closer. So slowly, as if you were contemplating actually going for it. Your faces slowly inched towards each other as you stepped closer, closing the gap between your bodies.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he realized what he was doing. He was about to break his one rule, but he couldn’t get himself to stop. Not when you smelled so good and not when you looked so fucking beautiful standing in front him.

He pulled away reluctantly and turned to face the door, running his hands along his face. You turned your head towards the tv, trying to give him some privacy. Had he thought the kiss was a mistake? Clearly since he had pulled away. And you were blaming no one but yourself.

You should have just kept your thoughts to yourself and now you had made him uncomfortable, in turn, making the whole time you were going to be spending together during the storm uncomfortable. He was never going to want to speak to you again and it was all your fault. You supposed now that you were just going to have to sit in your own guilt for the remainder of your time together.

“I-I’m sorry,” he apologized, finally turning around to face you. “I can’t do this.”

“Oh,” you nodded. Your voice sounded so small, so disappointed and now he just felt like a dick. “Right, yeah. We shouldn’t.”

“No,” he shook his head, stepping closer to you. “I want to, like, you have no fucking idea, but you’re with Buck…right?” You laughed in response, maybe a bit too loudly, but it was funny. You and Buck? Since when? Buck was like a brother to you.

“Eddie,” you said once you had sobered up. “Buck and I aren’t together,” you took him by his hands, giving them a squeeze. “Like, not even close. I thought it was obvious that I liked you.”

“Clearly not. I mean, this whole time, I was kicking myself because I didn’t get to you first.”

“Well, now you don’t have to worry about it because you can have me, Eddie. You can have me any way you want.” Now all he could think about was pure filth, imagining bending you over and pounding into you over and over again until you screamed his name. But for now, he’d start slow, wanting to take his time making you feel good. He wanted your first time together to be special.

You leaned closer to each other, moving at a glacial pace as the gap finally closed between your bodies. Your bottom lip was captured by his two and they moved together as you tried to get used to each other. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him closer and he grabbed onto your neck, pushed down on your chin to give him more access.

He licked into your mouth as he backed you up towards the bed, the back of your legs hitting it. He slowly removed your cardigan then got rid of his hoodie before pressing his lips to yours once again as he laid you down on the mattress.

Eddie slowly lowered himself on top of you as his lips moved down to your neck, peppering the spot with kisses before mixing in his tongue. And just when you were getting used to it, he pressed a few open mouthed kisses to your skin before giving it a rough such, causing you to let out a loud gasp.

He just chuckled against your skin before continuing, licking and sucking on your neck and it felt so good that before you could stop it, you let out a loud moan.

“That was hot,” Eddie said. “Wanna make it again?”

“Yes,” you replied, your breathing already labored. Eddie continued to suck on your neck and you let out another moan, louder this time. But that didn’t seem to be doing it for him anymore. He wanted you to be even louder so he grazed your skin with his teeth, and you let out a scream, reaching your first orgasm.

“Eddie, fuck.” He pulled away from your neck, smiling to himself at the mark that was already forming then looked down at you, seeing that you were already blissed out.

Eddie got down on the floor and pulled off your shoes and socks before undoing your pants and pulling them down to reveal your cunt that wasn’t covered by any underwear. He looked up at you and you just shrugged.

“Didn’t have any clean underwear. I would have worn a thong or something sexy if I had known.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. This is-this is hot. Especially since we can skip a step. Now let me get a look at you, hon.”

He spread your legs wide and brought his face right up to it, just to see just how much of your slick had been leaking out of it. There was so much that it had made a giant spot on the bed. He then looked up at you, his eyes glazing over with lust as his lips formed into a devilish grin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this wet and the fact that it was only from a hickey. Shit, I think that’s the highest compliment.” With that, he grabbed a condom from his wallet and handed it to you before he took off his jeans and boxers, revealing his giant cock.

“Well, if I’m super wet, then you’re super hard.”

“Right you are, angel,” he winked. “Wanna do the honors?”

“I can do that,” you nodded and ripped the packet open before rolling the condom onto Eddie’s waiting cock. He then laid you back down onto the bed, pressing kisses to your lips before he slowly slid inside you.

“So tight, hon. But don’t worry, you’re gonna be so loose by the time I’m done with you.”

He thrusted slowly in and out of you, moans escaping both of your mouths as he did so. He was eating up your sounds, knowing that they would live in his head rent free even after the night was over. You just sounded so heavenly that he wanted to hear your moans replay on a loop.

“Eddie, sh-shit, oh my god.” This was something that you had never felt before. You had slept with plenty of people, but with Eddie, it was different. It felt so good and he wanted to make sure that was all you felt. He was so sweet and caring.

“I know, honey. You feel so good. Already loosening you up. And look at you, taking me so well.” His pumps got a little faster and your moans were louder, almost sounding like screams. Eddie had just started and you were already close? He must have been better than he thought.

He continued to pump in and out, hearing your whines that sounded like music to his ears. He was just getting started, but could see you fading out. Your vision was getting hazy just as there was a pounding on the door, causing Eddie to cover your mouth to make sure your scream didn’t escape.

Eddie slowly pulled out and disposed of the condom before hurrying to put on his boxes before rushing to the door to open it. He pulled it open just enough to see who was on the other side but made sure that his underwear was hidden.

Buck was on the other side, rubbing sleep from his eyes and Eddie didn’t even need to hear what he had to say. His cheeks turned red as he realized that was going on.

“Look, man, I’m happy that you guys are together or whatever, but can you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Eddie cleared his throat, trying to play it off, but he was actually so embarrassed. Especially because his best friend could hear him. How thin were the walls? Apparently very since it seemed like Buck had heard everything.

“Sorry, we’ll, uh, keep it down.”

“Thank god. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go Google how I can unhear something.” With that, Buck headed back to his room, Eddie shutting the door behind him.

There was no way Eddie could fuck you now. He was so embarrassed that his best friend had heard everything and now he was afraid he wasn’t going to be able to live it down.

He headed back over to you and you had put on a pair of sweatpants, already under the covers and the lamp was turned off. He got in and scooted over to you, pressing his body up against yours before draping an arm over your waist. You turned over to face him, giving him a warm smile while he returned an apologetic one.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Believe me, as soon as we’re able to go home, you are more than welcome to have your way with me.”

“Oh, you always know just the right thing to say, huh?” He pressed a kiss to your lips and the two of you spent the rest of the night talking in hushed tones about everything and nothing until you both fell asleep in each other’s arms. Looking forward to waking up, your eyes boring into one another’s, feeling like the luckiest people on earth because you finally had each other.

[mournings-stars]

What's ur take on vox aftercare imagines? :3

tell me why i was so in love with this ask, wrote a whole fic and literally forgot to post it omg ANYWAY i love vox with aftercare cus that television does NOT know what he’s doing

yes he’s used to having to reign in val but convincing someone to not be criminally insane and telling someone they did a good job is a tad bit different yk (LMAO)

i doubt he’s ever actually received aftercare or given it before getting into an actual relation(situation)ship so he fumbles with it at first

he’d definitely get the hang of it tho! like i think in private he’s a very doting s/o (in his own way) like he gives you the princess treatment all day every day (as long as no one else is there to see it)

so i think despite that he kinda lacks in the aftercare department cus he literally doesn’t know it exists until you try to initiate it

anyway for this lil blurb my idea was that reader and vox have been hooking up for a while and have gotten closer (it’s not like vox would let just anyone sleep in his bed) so here u go

Vox would really try to give aftercare. Every time since you started spending the night, he’d clean you up and change the sheets. He’d get you something to wear before he took care of himself, and made sure you had anything you could physically need, but that was it. He wasn’t good at the rest of it. He didn’t think to get you tea (especially because he didn’t even like “leaf water”) or a warm blanket, he didn’t think to tell you how he was feeling or how well you did, and he certainly didn't tell you if he needed anything.

No one, before you, had ever even introduced the idea of aftercare. There was a night where you sleepily told him how well he did, and he told you to “go to sleep if you want to stay here tonight,” but you said, “I have to make sure you’re alright first,” like he was ridiculous, laughing as you kissed his shoulder.

“Of course I’m alright… Are you?” He asked awkwardly, thinking you were trying to hint that he’d done something wrong, maybe hurt you.

“Mhm. Just cold.”

“Then… use your blanket?” He pulled his sheets over you as you groaned, shaking your head at him. “What?”

“Nothing… Nothing.” You tucked the blankets over you, turning away from him as you shut your eyes. “Night.”

And it took him hours to fall asleep. Not only was he utterly confused by you, but he had a very needy feeling in his chest. He had half a mind to check and see if he was hard again, because he certainly didn’t feel it, but that was the only thing that made sense.

That is, until he looked at you, tucked into your blankets and finding himself thinking he would be much warmer than some stupid blanket. Why the fuck were you holding on to a blanket and not him—?

And then he had to pause and collect himself because who the fuck gets jealous over a blanket…?

He gently and reluctantly woke you up, feeling bad for it when he watched you blink your eyes open groggily. He came up with something arbitrary, “you’re pushing me off the bed, pretty.”

“Mmm, sorry,” you mumbled and scooted over. He took the opportunity to scoot closer, gently grabbing your waist to pull you against him. You turned toward him, assuming he wanted something else and sleepily bringing your mouth to his neck.

“As much as I like ‘sleepy sex’,” as you called it, “with you, I just want to — hold you.” You didn’t miss the way his screen glitched when he spoke, and he didn’t miss the smile that came to your face before you went back to sleep.

But of course all the niceties were gone the next day when you left before he woke up, which you always did because that was the agreement you had — but surely that didn’t mean things had to be the same in the bedroom.

So he started researching and apparently, “why the fuck is my… partner… being so nice after sex?” Was a commonly searched question in Hell, as it populated almost immediately after he typed “why.”

That led him to trying, really trying, to give aftercare. The first time, you were shocked, telling him you’d clean up, but he insisted and you relented. You let him do what he wanted, thinking he might just be in a mood, but when he very awkwardly asked if you were alright, you realized what he was doing.

“Why don’t I make us tea?” You suggested, getting up from his bed after he’d given you something to wear. “Is that alright? Or, do you want me to keep you company?”

You were much more attentive, and you always knew what to say. That alone made an error appear on his screen, but you didn’t joke or say anything about it. “That’s fine,” he finally brought himself to say.

“Alright. Be right back.” You gave him a smile, gently squeezing his hand as you passed him by and went to the kitchen.

He wanted to tell you to be quick, as he suddenly felt very lonely when he lost the feeling of your hands on him, but he stopped himself.

As if you read his mind, you came back very quickly, also bringing a bowl of fruit with you (and hot water with lemon and honey for him because, again, leaf water). “Blood sugar,” you said, making him laugh.

“So, you like to eat after…?” He concluded, because “blood sugar” was certainly not a valid justification in Hell. You nodded and he did the same in return. “What else?”

“What else, what?” You asked as you sat next to him in bed after setting the tea and fruit on his nightstand, tucking your legs beneath the covers.

“What else do you like… after?”

This time, you didn’t ignore the error screen, taking it as him pushing for too much. “Don’t worry about that — it’s more about what you need… Like, you like to cuddle,” his screen glitched as he cleared his throat, “because you need a little bit of comfort. I don’t need much; maybe, just, something to wear and sleep — but I’d rather not sleep alone.” He nodded along. “I’ll get everything I like; tea, fruit, whatever.” You gave him a very sweet smile, but he understood you were telling him to not ask any more about what you liked — or, he thought he understood that you didn’t want to get personal. “What do you like?” Then you caught him off guard.

No one had ever prioritized what he liked — or, rather, needed after sex before now, and he certainly never wanted to tell anyone. Who knows how they’d use it against him? But you… you just felt genuine.

[sharkboywrites]

Hello! May I ask for the BG3 gang with an autistic gn Tav who is. Very Very Large but also quite young (think like... Older teen.) who just decides that Astarion/Wyll/Halsin/Gale etc is their new favourite person and WILL NOT leave them alone.

It would be very funny if they just... didn't realise Tav was actually A Kid™ and thought they were just a weirdly clingy grownup. Except Halsin. Halsin would know Immediately.

Inspired by my dumb ass being enormous and this having happened to me irl many times.

Bg3 Characters With a Young Older Looking Autistic Tav

A/n: This idea is so silly I love it. This is obviously written as platonic because reader is younger and baulder's gate characters are older and I don't write weird stuff like that lol although I'm sure that's expected. Also also i did all of them together because I do not have the energy to write sperate headcannons for each of them, dont worry they all get their moment

Gn Reader, Child/teen Reader

This was an... interesting situation

Everyone on the team assumed you were just assumed you were a bit childish for an adult

I mean could you blame them? You were massive, anyone would assume you were an adult

Except for Halsin

He could easily tell your age, but it's something he kept between the two of you, mainly for safety

Halsin takes more of a dad approach if you cling to him

He's very protective of you and teaches you new skills

He also keeps anyone else on the team from hitting on you, for obvious reasons, but wouldn't say why

He's also the most attentive when it comes to your autism, he's always keeping an eye out for you and helping when he can

It took the others longer to find, though

Wyll was the second to put two and two together

Once he realized, he grilled you about why you didn't tell anyone about it

He isn't too harsh though, and takes a more "fun uncle" role

He always makes sure to entertain you, he's the guy who's got fidgets on him just for you incase you need them

He also decides not to tell anyone for your safety after consulting with Halsin, but he does wish you said something sooner

Gale is the second to last to find out, after trying to teach you something about magic

He had questioned why you didn't know any of this, it was supposed to be common knowledge for someone your age

Or someone he thought was your age

He just stared at you blankly for a good minute after you told him how old you actually were

He's more upset at himself for not noticing to be honest

He realizes how that actually makes a lot of sense

Gale, like Halsin, also takes a more fatherly approach

he teaches you things you may have not known before, and is one of the most helpful when it comes to working through your autism

He's a knowledgeable man and can tell what you need, probably before you do

He's very protective, often insisting that you stay out of battles, but it's not like you listen to him in that department

For comedy's sake, Astarion is the last to find out, and he is pissed

He's mad that no one told him, even if it wasn't too long Gale found out and most of the party knew

He looked so dumbfounded when he found out and like Gale, was more mad that he didn't realize sooner

He's upset, but he gets over it quickly after a day or two of snarky comments and like Wyll, takes on a cool uncle postion

The whole party suddenly wants to protect you and it's suddenly become one of their top goals to return you to your parent/guardian if you have one, next to y'know, getting the worms out of your head

If you don't have somewhere to go they may or may not argue on who takes you once it's all over

Generally, you're taken good care of from then on, much better than you were before

Everyone's very attentive to you and tries to be aware of what you may need at any given point

Since they all have some type of trauma, they want to make sure the same doesn't happen to you, especially so young

Being in this situation is stressful for anyone, let alone a child, and a child with a disability

They do their best to make you happy and keep you safe

They may struggle, but they do their best, and now you have people to call family

[idcallmyselfhuman]

XiaoAether Masterlist 👹⛅

Edit: version 2.0 here

Or, every XiaoAether moment that I can remember (and an attempt to organize them)

Starting this off with the one scene that made us all go "wait a fucking minute" at the very start of the game,

Battle of Osial

Aether's feet were already steadied. Xiao could've let go, or let him fall as gracefully as Mountain Shaper did to that guard (I would've hated him forever) but considering that he insists that being near mortals is such a biiiig no-no, he could have, but he didn't. No, even more, he fucking tightened his hold.

-

Teyvat Food Notes (Sweet Dream, Adeptus' Temptation and Satisfying Salad)

Next! The promotionals during Xiao's release as a playable character. Specifically, Teyvat Food Notes. To celebrate his release, they made an Almond Tofu + Sweet Dream Food blog.

Note: Both google translate and Papago seem to use Mandrill instead of Xiao, so... just know that's who it's talking about.

This is where we learn that Xiao didn't even make "Sweet Dream"; this dish was Aether's thank you gift to him. Xiao's specialty dish is a gift from Aether. I'm- agh. ANYWAY.

We actually also see Sweet Dream in Childe's birthday art. And I'm really sorry to Tartaglia but seeing it stole all his thunder. I could not get over it.

I like to think Aether was so busy making Childe food that he absentmindedly started preparing Almond Tofu in the way he's used to (because of how often Xiao requests it :'> ).

Just when I thought that was it for the Teyvat Food Notes and I could've moved on, I found this in the Adeptus' Temptation food note; the one they made for the first Lantern Rite.

Note: "Fairy/Buddha Jump over the Wall" is apparently an actual Chinese delicacy that the Adeptus' Temptation is based on!

I found this part really cute, especially right now because of the poetry event. Since the beginning, Aether's always known that Xiao was capable of being poetic, it just took them being close and his encouragement for Xiao to actually make a poem.

Lastly, Aether's Satisfying Salad. This isn't connected to the food blog this time (since that one's for Mona), but rather, this and Almond Tofu are the first dishes Aether has ever given Xiao in the game. I included this despite it being pretty minor because in Moonlight Merriment, Smiley Yanxiao actually brings this up again.

Smiley Yanxiao: The boss told me to take care of him, but this guy, let me tell you - he is one tough nut to crack. He usually turns his nose up at everything that isn't Almond Tofu.

Xiao willingly ate something that wasn't Almond Tofu because... because what, it was given to him by a cute blonde traveler? The jury's still out on that one.

-

Lantern Rite 1.3, Baizhu Story Quest

I'm sure we're already familiar with this scene, right?

The very first time Xiao promised Aether that no matter what, as long as he calls his name, he'll be there. Right after that was Moonlight Merriment, where the game literally specifies that Xiao made that promise just for Aether. Way to make your commitment subtle.

Ah, Xiao, you're so easy... Of course, this wouldn't be the last time that Aether calls for him and Xiao arrives immediately. This also happened during Baizhu's story quest to, yet again, the astonishment of everyone around excluding these two. (Xiao's dedication is one of a kind)

Xiao worries over Aether often, despite knowing that they're both formidable in their own right. I also think it's sweet how every time they meet, Xiao's departing words are always a reminder to call for him whenever needed, to the point where there are times that Aether just goes "Yeah, we know." before he can even finish the sentence.

Unfortunately, though, there is one time where Xiao failed to reach Aether when he called him, but only because he physically wasn't able to.

-

Perilous Trail (Interlude)

The only thing that prevented this man from getting to Aether like always was being in a different plane of existence. Romeo and Juliet wish they were this romantic istfg

Aether: Come find us.

Xiao: No.

Yanfei: But Aether's in trouble!

Xiao: How do we meet?

Now where else did someone pull this tactic recently-

...Again, XIAO YOU ARE SO EASY. But anyway, back to the Chasm bc I wasn't quite done with that-

As soon as Yanfei tells Aether that Xiao is awake, Ae comes running. Just full on "stop saying you're fine i'll be the judge of that"

And he looks so angry when Xiao brings up writing a will. augguh they are sooooo- (i would put a reaction pic here if i didn't have an IMAGE LIMIT fuck tumblr bro)

To finish off the Chasm Interlude on a more serious note, this entire conversation was really touching, and I love seeing the progress these two have made over the years. Xiao letting himself open up with Aether's help year by year is one of my favorite things about this game.

-

Teapot and Character Voice Lines + Birthday Letters

For the first and second Lantern Rite, Xiao was still adamant on not even stepping foot in Liyue Harbor, declining every invitation to go there because of how much he disliked being near mortals.

Yet in his teapot voicelines, once you reach a high enough friendship with him, Xiao actually takes the initiative to invite Aether to go to the city, if only to understand him better. Xiao explicitly says that his willingness to go to the harbor was for him.

More About Xiao I: I'm willing to protect you.But don't think about getting close, and stay out of my way, or all that awaits you is regret.

More About Xiao V: It's too late. The connection between us is too strong. Even if you wanted to, it's too late to sever it. Hm? You've never thought to sever it?

About Shenhe: It seems Shenhe places a great deal of trust in you. Well, how could she not. There are few people in the world as kind and good-natured as you.

Shenhe, About Xiao: My first impression of him was that he's not one to smile. After meeting him again more recently, however, he's still as reserved as ever, but… he seems a lot more relaxed now. Maybe he… met someone special.

That line by Shenhe made me happy. Aether's effect on Xiao benefitted not only him, but the people surrounding Xiao as well. We even see that in his birthday letters, where at the most recent one, he follows Ae's advice and goes to spend time with old friends.

They're also all just insanely romantic, I feel like that goes without saying. Every year, I wonder how Genshin would possibly top the one before it that isn't just an explicit confession of undying love.

-

Lantern Rite '23

I'm here to remind you all of a beautiful scene that should never be forgotten for years to come.

Regardless of Genshin trying to be mysterious and making us guess who saved Aether, the fact that they both came rushing over is incredible on its own. They know that Aether isn't a damsel in distress, and Paimon's acting was so on the nose, but they still couldn't allow even the slightest possibility of harm to come to him.

Xiao looking away and talking in circles just to say he really was worried is the funniest fucking thing.

For the Lantern Rite event itself, if you've read this far in, you're probably already familiar. I really wish there wasn't an image limit because I have so many screenshots I want to put in here. If you want a refresher, watch this and start around the 2-hour mark

I wanted to put my own video in the post but you can only put one :/// I'm fist fighting whoever put these limits. 1 video file and 30 images? who are you

BACK TO THE TOPIC

There really isn't much I could say that I haven't already said before. For XiaoAether shippers, this was hoyo spoonfeeding content on a silver spoon. It's Aether and Xiao at their most comfortable with each other, talking and spending time with the people they care about. It's Aether fulfilling his end of the bargain of bailing Xiao out of uncomfortable social situations, because if you haven't noticed throughout all of these examples (or even outside of that), Aether is so perceptive when it comes to the comfort of the people around him.

This was also the event where we find out that for Xiao, the most distinguished guest in his eyes was Aether (Even though Ae thought he was going to say Zhongli..)

I have a lot of love for this event. But since this isn't just a lantern rite post, I'll move on.

-

Waterborne Poetry

The catalyst for this post. The reminder of how lovely this ship is, and how far these two have come.

As we have all learned from Xiangling, Yanfei, Venti and Hu Tao, you only need to mention Aether's name to convince Xiao of whatever it is you're planning. The part where Aether and Team Chongyun were trying to convince him to come with them and touch some fucking grass was really cute.

This event and the previous Lantern Rite also had Aether and Xiao talking privately, only to get interrupted by Paimon/Xiangling (as well as calling them out lmao)

And, of course, the scene that everyone freaked out over,

This. I don't think I'll ever get over this.

The fact that they had Zach voice this- A short, but sweet moment where Aether looks at Xiao from afar and immediately gets inspired, performing a poem where the real meaning is shared only between the two of them...

And Xiao's smile.

An expression that Aether had done so well to bring out.

2023 was the year of XiaoAether. Thank you, Hoyo.

-

Done! I HAVE SO MANY SCREENSHOTS AND I COULDN'T EVEN USE MOST OF THEM ToT. I actually had clips that I edited but Tumblr said no. Good thing there's YouTube.

Another reason as to why I made this was because some shippers said that XiaoAe didn't make sense because it lacked depth and I was so affronted by it that I did all this out of spite (and love for these characters. mostly love.)

[silverynight]

Welcome home

Chapter 1 (of 5)

It's been a year since Izuku reconnected with his childhood friend, now pro hero, Bakugo Katsuki.

He has changed a lot... in a good way. When he found out Izuku got a job at the same agency he works for, he went straight to the analytics department to see him and talk to him.

Izuku had to ask for a break and meet Katsuki outside; he was nervous then, but he realized quickly he didn't have to. All the pro hero wanted was to apologize for his past behavior.

They started over after that and now they're really good friends and Izuku is very happy because of it.

There's a lot of things in his life that have improved since he got that job, actually.

He gets to meet a lot of pro heroes, yes, most of them are kind enough to go to his department and see him in person rather than only communicate with him via text or earpiece.

Aizawa promoted him after a couple of months and now Izuku handles most to the mission and investigations; he chooses quickly which pro hero (based on their quirk, availability and experience) is the best to deal with the situation at hand.

He really likes his job because even though he doesn't do the hero work directly, he gets to help the pro heroes in a way.

He also hangs out with Katsuki a lot; he met his friends the first week after the apology and went to his apartment for the first time fifteen days after that.

Ashido says that it's weird for "Blasty" (as she calls Katsuki) to spend so much time with him right after meeting him again, although she has this smirk on her face whenever she says it that makes Izuku flustered for some reason.

However, Izuku thinks it's perfectly normal; whenever they're together, it feels right, like they never stopped seeing each other and have been good friends for years, ever since they were kids.

"It's still weird," Kaminari says when Katsuki goes to the cafeteria counter to get Izuku a coffee and a bagel. "It took us a year to get invited to his apartment."

The way his friends (because Izuku considers them his friends now) look at him make him feel flustered, but he doesn't do anything to hide the blush on his cheeks like he used to do in high-school whenever he was embarrassed.

Now he just hopes it goes away quickly.

"Well, that was years ago," Izuku says, trying to dismiss it. Katsuki told him he bought his fancy apartment two years after he started working as a professional hero. "Kacchan has changed."

Izuku got really shocked when he found out he owned that apartment, but he knows the pro heroes get very well paid, especially when they get brand deals. It also helps that Katsuki is the number one hero currently, although pro hero Shoto is right behind him.

"He doesn't trust most people," Kirishima points out, like he's trying to tell him something. Then his expression turns into an amused one as he sees Katsuki approaching them again. "And he's certainly not the type to bring anyone food."

"Kacchan's just being nice!" Izuku says as the three pro heroes look back at him like he's crazy. Yes, Katsuki is not that nice on a regular basis, but that doesn't mean he hasn't improved. "I told him my ankle hurts a bit because I rescued a cat and fell right after I managed to get him down from a tree."

Fortunately, the mention of the cat makes them focus on that instead, and suddenly Izuku finds himself showing them pictures of it.

Katsuki sits right next to him, and Izuku sighs in delight after taking the first bite of his bagel.

"How much?" He asks after a while.

"I don't know," Katsuki makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. "I paid for your stuff and mine together."

"But surely they gave you a receipt–"

"No. Just drink your damn coffee, nerd!"

"Thank you, Kacchan," Izuku says, trying not to roll his eyes; sometimes Katsuki does stuff like that, he seems determined to pay for every little thing Izuku wants when they go out together.

"Also, I'm going to drive you to your apartment..."

"There's no need–"

"You're hurt," Katsuki argues and the green haired man knows that expression really well; there's nothing that can change his mind now, no matter what Izuku says, the pro hero will take him home no matter what.

Izuku realizes right then that it's the first time Katsuki sees the place where he lives; they always go to Dynamight's apartment or to a coffee shop, a restaurant or somewhere else when they hang out.

"Please, tell me you're joking," Katsuki hisses as he parks his expensive car right outside Izuku's building, the one that looks like it's been sitting there for hundreds of years and is about to collapse under its own weight.

Or maybe that's not why the pro hero is frowning that much; his red eyes are scanning the area like the worst kind of villain is about to pop up from the dark alley next to Izuku's building.

"It's not that bad," he assures his friend. They have tried to rob him only once, maybe twice... but he survived!

Well, maybe he shouldn't say that out loud.

"Shit!" Katsuki hisses. "I thought they paid you well! What the hell?"

"They do!" Izuku assures him. "But, uhh... you see... I'm kinda tired of paying rent so I've been saving some money to buy my own place somewhere else. However, if I want it to happen soon, I need to stay here for a while."

"I'll buy you a new apartment."

Izuku chuckles, but his smile falls when he realizes Katsuki is not joking at all.

"I appreciate the offer, but there's no need, Kacchan," he smiles.

Katsuki is still grabbing the steering wheel like he's very tempted to drive away from there. His knuckles are slightly white, perhaps because the grip of the wheel has tightened considerably.

"Izuku, this is not a safe place." He's deadly serious, and by the tone in his voice, it seems like he's about to snap, but he's trying to control himself.

"I can take care of myself," he hears himself saying, slightly irritated. Katsuki is not the only stubborn person in that car.

"Alright..." Katsuki doesn't deny it, but Izuku can tell that he doesn't like the situation at all. "If you want to save for your new apartment, perhaps you can live with me in the meantime. You'll save even more money because you won't have to pay rent anymore."

Izuku's face turns slightly pink at the thought of living with Katsuki. A memory returns to him in that moment; when they were kids, they had promised each other they would live together and work in the same agency as a hero duo.

But that was before Izuku found out he was quirkless.

A long time ago.

"Kacchan, I really appreciate what you're trying to do, but I can't accept–"

"Please."

He's sure the pro hero has seen a lot of awful things during all those years working as Dynamight; Izuku has access to a lot of cases, and even though the information is sometimes haunting, he knows there's nothing compared to seeing it happening or arriving at the crime scene.

However, this time Katsuki is overreacting. Sure, the place is not the safest one, but it's not like there's a murder every single day.

Besides, his neighbors are very good people.

"I'll think about it," he finally says, mostly to reassure him.

However, it doesn't work. Katsuki keeps looking around, growing tense.

"You should stay with me tonight. I'll make katsudon if you do."

The offer is really tempting, but Izuku knows it's because Katsuki is imagining horrible things happening to him in that place. Things that are not real.

"I'll be fine."

"Then I'll stay with you."

The fact that he's almost begging makes Izuku's heart beat in a funny way inside his chest. Surely, they are friends now, but it seems Izuku really had no idea how much Katsuki cared about him.

Until now.

"My apartment is tiny and I don't have an extra futon–"

"I can sleep on the floor."

"Kacchan..." Izuku leans closer, placing a hand on his broad shoulder. "Listen, take a deep breath. Nothing is going to happen to me, I promise. I have lived here for over two years now. I know this place, and I know how to take care of myself."

Katsuki nods as he relaxes... a bit.

"Alright, but I won't go until you enter that building... no, I won't leave until you text me you're inside your apartment."

Fine. He can agree to that.

"Okay, Kacchan."

***

Two days. It's been two days since Katsuki found out where Izuku lived and whenever he's not with him, he calls him. A couple of times a day.

It's okay, at least he hasn't "kidnapped" Izuku and taken him to his apartment, even though he clearly wants to.

"Hi, Kacchan. Yes, I'm in the office and nothing has happened to me," he mumbles joyfully as he keeps filling a couple of reports for Endeavor's agency.

"I call because I somehow got used to your nerdy voice, and now I miss it constantly," Katsuki grumbles. There's a weird noise coming from his side that makes Izuku frown for a moment.

"Sure, Kacchan," he rolls his eyes because he knows the pro hero can't see him. Maybe he just imagined it. "I suppose you're on patrol so before you–what was that?"

"Shit!"

There's an explosion on his side. This time Izuku is sure of it.

At first, he gets worried as he immediately goes to the database, and then the status section until he finds Dynamight's profile.

"Are you okay?"

"I got everything under control," Katsuki assures him and even though he's clearly using his quirk, Izuku can tell he's being honest.

Then, he gets irritated. Especially when he reads the status and remembers the important mission Izuku assigned to him started today.

"Did you call me during a mission?"

"Izuku, I'm clearly busy here..."

"Alright, I'll end the call."

"No, wait! Is Hatsume there yet?"

Just as Katsuki says it, the head of the support department rushes into Izuku's cubicle.

"Hello, pretty!"

"Hi, Hatsume!" Izuku perks up, smiling at her; she's always a mess, but it suits her somehow.

"Great," Katsuki sounds relived.

"Wait, how did you know–"

"I'm sorry, Izuku, I have to go. I'll pick you up in a couple of hours, alright? Don't get out of the office!"

Katsuki ends the call before Izuku has the opportunity to say anything at all.

He's so distracted arranging everything for the pro hero from Endeavor's agency who'll be coming to work on a case with them and, at the same time, thinking about what he's going to say to Katsuki when he sees him again that he doesn't realize Hatsume is in his personal space until he hears a click.

Suddenly, there's a very beautiful golden chain around his neck, it's not exactly tight, but not as loose as other necklaces he's seen.

It's honestly beautiful, especially with that black X in the middle covered in orange and green gemstones.

Izuku is sure Hatsume made a mistake; if he had to guess, he'd say it looks like a fancy necklace that's probably part of Dynamight's new merch collection or something.

"Uhh... Hatsume?"

She has a tablet in her hands and is typing something so fast it makes Izuku feel a little envious; his job would be slightly easier if he could type that fast.

"I sent an email," she says, without looking up.

A little bit confused, but intrigued nonetheless, Izuku takes out his phone again and opens his mailbox.

It has the agency logo, so Izuku supposes that's something official and relaxes a bit.

He starts reading and then...

"A tracker?"

She chuckles.

"Don't worry, it doesn't activate unless you're in danger. This is for your safety. The standard ones send an alarm to the agency so one of our pro heroes can go and rescue you or help you in case you need it."

Izuku has read about these in a couple of files, although he doesn't know much about them. The ones he looked at seemed completely different from his.

Besides, they were just for very important people... politicians, idols, all kinds of celebrities and scientists if their lives were considered to be in imminent danger.

Also, for obvious reasons, pro heroes' families.

But Izuku was neither of those. He decides to ask Hatsume, but something else makes him worry.

"This looks really expensive."

"You bet!"

"But–"

"It's already paid for, obviously," she says, typing something before the necklace makes a noise and a green light appears in the middle of the X, although it vanishes quickly.

So it's from the agency? Maybe. Although Izuku knows he's not that important to be given something like that. Sure, he handles a lot of information, but it stays in the computer he uses to work on in the office. Besides, neither he nor his coworkers wear uniforms... they aren't given anything that can be linked to the agency for the same reason.

They're not usually the villains' targets. Izuku has never seen a report that mentions an office worker being in danger.

But he admits he's not an expert in that area, perhaps they give something like this to everyone who works there.

"Why Dynamight's logo?"

Hatsume looks at him before chuckling.

"You're funny, Midoriya."

Getting slightly frustrated, Izuku tries again with another question.

"How can I take it off?"

Even though she's the one with crooked goggles on her head and stains of grease all over her face, she looks at him like he's crazy.

"You're not supposed to take it off, ever. It'd defeat its purpose."

"I mean... to take a shower?"

"Oh! Don't worry, it's waterproof!"

At least he finally got a little bit more information about the necklace.

"Uhh..."

"Sorry, I'd love to stay and chat with you, but I have a lot of work to do and I'm sure you do too!" Hatsume says, already waving him goodbye, and looking down at her tablet at the same time.

Izuku sighs and looks down at the device around his neck. He likes the Dynamight symbol, even though he has no idea why she picked that one specifically.

He knows these have to be a secret; the general public can't know about them, so perhaps making it look like expensive merch was her goal?

Yeah, that's probably it.

And she chose Katsuki because it's not a secret Izuku is good friends with him so him wearing his merch makes sense.

He nods to himself, mostly because he doesn't have time to look for more information on that.

He still has to tell Aizawa that Endeavor's office hasn't sent the name of the pro hero who's coming in a few days.

They have to work with them in that particular case because even though they started the investigation, the villain has moved to the zone assigned to the pro heroes who work at Endeavor's.

It'll probably be fine.

***

Next--->

Patreon

[akutasoda]

Aventurine with teen reader, please.

He would meet you when you’ve just joined the IPC, becoming your superior and having you run errands or finish up paperwork 

Diligent, dedicated and hard working, those words could be describe by him to you after see you work.

But one thing you’re weak about… you can’t collect debts since you’re too soft and easy to get emotional by words. (some of them are lies)

So..

Topaz and Numby/ Aventurine and reader: best cooperation team works

personal debts

synopsis - as a new employee who has the IPC watching you, aventurine can only hope to save you from the worst

includes - aventurine ft topaz and numby - platonic!

warnings - gn!teen!reader, fluff, slight angst, IPC kinda sucks, wc - 1.2k

the IPC was a reputable and respected organisation known throughout the galaxy, or atleast to those that had never been in debt to them or worked with them. IPC soldiers and workers would complain about the awful conditions but they knew what awaited them if they spoke bad about the IPC. in reality, the IPC was a money hungry organisation that had no issues with taking planets hostage if debts were due and had no issue prying on the weak and vulnerable for recruitment.

of course some people knew all about the harsh reality of the IPC but they were either in debt and couldn't afford to speak out or they worked there. the stonehearts were a great example, each one was very aware of the real IPC but they either simply didn't care or were also trapped within it's schemes and had to devote absolute loyalty.

an IPC worker's experience could also be dictated to who they would be assigned under. the more general corporate areas were always harsher and near impossible to work in, however some lucky few could be assigned under the few kind souls left in the IPC. when you had first been roped into the IPC you didn't know what to expect and were soon pushed into a general corporate area, that's when you realised the situation you had been put in.

fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you saw it, the IPC had realised you had some talent that couldn't be wasted in the lowly areas and immediately promoted you under a stoneheart - you could tell it was a test to see your true usefulness when you became informed it was more of a secretary job but you really would take anything over your previous position. it wasn't entirely unusual for the stonehearts to have a few workers worming directly under them, especially some poor souls who were assigned to help with paperwork's and galaxy wide errands. aventurine was only informed of this change on the day you were moved to his department.

he didn't want to come of as rude, after all he appreciated the extra hand with the mountains of paperwork, but he didn't really see the need for an assistant - especially a teenager. aventurine had been in the IPC long enough to know that they were merely seeing how useful and adaptable you could be so he didn't really want to make your job harder for you by dismissing you, always letting you carry out your duties even if they really weren't necessary. just after one day, he started seeing why the higher-ups thought you'd be better off in a higher position.

you surprised him with how efficiently you carried out your duties. you were so hardworking and dedicated to the task given to you that he simply couldn't tell if you actually enjoyed your job or if you were trying your hardest to survive. aventurine didn't really want to question why a teen such as yourself was roped into affairs with the IPC, everyone had their own reason including him.

to you, aventurine was one of the best bosses you could ask for - you had heard from other workers about their situations and you counted yourself lucky. he never gave you excessive work amounts and always reminded you to take breaks if you looked worn out, sometimes he'd even replace your errands with simpler ones such as indulging him in a card game of your choice instead of traveling across the galaxy. you couldn't really understand why he was so nice to you but you never complained - he seemed impossible to read anyway so you'd rather live with the questions.

aventurine wasn't surprised that your hardworking attitude had gotten you more duties on top of the one's he assigned you, he knew the IPC always liked to test their valuable resources as much as they could - work their most valuable workers until they were exhausted and no longer useful. he understood your situation, he had been in your shoes not too long ago, and made sure to lessen the work you had under him in order to allow you to focus on your new work. aventurine surprised you a couple of times when he offered to accompany you to another are of the galaxy, you always refused as he surely had a lot more to do but he always insisted.

your new work had involved you travelling across the galaxy to collect debts and run errands for other higher-ups. you excelled in running the errands but always fell short when it came to debts, you were too soft and became easily swayed by people's sob stories and pleas for more time even if they were lying right to your face. aventurine witnessed this first hand when he accompanied you one time. you were sent to retrieve some debts from a few individuals all on the same planet, but when you got their one man spun you lie after lie and aventurine watched as your face softened and you tried promising him that you'd find a way to give him more time.

aventurine couldn't blame you. the IPC made people do horrible things to others and made most workers desensitised to destroying other peoples entire livelihoods - but they were unforgiving. if you didn't carry out your duties they would pass you off as useless and aventurine didn't want you meeting that fate at your age, so begrudgingly he would step in and collect the debts for you. it made neither of you feel good but aventurine had fallen too deep into the IPC rabbit hole and was more exposed to their methods. of course as a stoneheart, aventurine had many duties to attend to and couldn't always accompany you so he would entrust a fellow stonehearrt to your cause.

topaz was more used to collecting debts than both you and aventurine. she could be rather brutal and always made those in debt hand over the money by any means to their disposal, and so aventurine knew that she could help you with your debt collections. especially since she could also sympathise with your situation. she knew that the IPC didn't care how old or young you were, as long as you remained useful, but she could agree that roping teenagers into their dealings was a bit too far. so you became rather familiar with another stoneheart.

it became a regular occurrence for aventurine or topaz, and numby, to assist you on your debt collections, eventually you started feeling bad that they helped you so you offered to assist them as best you could on their missions. you four worked perfectly as a group and ot surprised neither of the stonehearts that the IPC would take advantage of your alliance to promote you and push you further into their schemes. so when aventurine was forced into gifting you a cornerstone on the IPC's behalf as your boss, him and topaz (and numby) could only make sure to assist you in anyway they could - it wasn't too late for you.

[crsssie]

saying we're just friends, thinking you're my man

word count: 11.3k

warnings: non-explicit smut, heavy making out

summary: Distance gives the soul time to think, and Tim thinks he's in love with you.

It's a textbook relationship.

Tim can't count the number of times he's read a fic like this.

In fact, he can already imagine the tags on your love story. Strangers to lovers, Friends to Lovers, Fateful Encounter, Alternate Universe - College, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn... the list goes on. You'd probably have a field day trying to finish the story inspired by the one the two of you experienced. Though, as he brushes his fingers through your hair in the kisses of the morning sun, he wouldn't have it any other way — even if he couldn't form a coherent thought when you were awake and talking to him. God, you make him weak.

In the blaring heat of August at orientation, you landed right at his feet after getting shoved around in the crowd of students.

"You good?" He holds his hand for you, and you take it, pulling yourself up.

"Sorry! They're quite a crowd." You laugh awkwardly. "I'm, uh—" Your name tumbled past your lips, an apologetic smile on your face, explaining to him that you were trying to get to the English building through the crowd of students. Tim told you his name (only first in fear you'd recognize his last) and showed you a shortcut to the building. You had taken the messily scribbled image, airdropped it onto your phone, and you had rushed off with a thank you yelled into the air. Tim hadn't thought much about you. It wasn't as if you'd be in the same department as him. He also had minimal GE classes, so—

Two days later, you sit next to him in his only GE class. He was required to take English regardless of his previous experience with it. His AP classes hadn't been kind enough to remove the requirement. Not even the fives on both of his English APs could have helped him avoid the expository hell all freshmen were required to take. So, he meets eyes with you as you apologize for sitting next to him, confessing that he was the only face you knew.

"So? What's your major?" You blink at him curiously as the class waits for the professor.

"I'm in Cybersecurity."

"Woah." You mumble. "Stem..."

"You?"

"Creative Writing." You grin. "Well, build your own major. But Creative Writing nonetheless."

"A writer?"

"Yeah."

Tim had watched as you played Minecraft the entirety of class, only skimming through the syllabus for his late work, absence, and attendance policies. He's not sure if you even caught the way the professor mentioned there was a syllabus quiz next class. Though it wasn't his job to tell you, but he still felt kind of bad if you were to fail it. He passes you a note, and you pause your game, glancing at the note. You grin at him, opening your phone and showing him your reminder. You go back to your Minecraft world for the rest of class, information going in one ear and out the other. (Tim found out later that you actually listen, and gaming was only a focus tactic you used.)

At the end of class, you save your world, push your chair in, and sprint for the door.

Tim shared no other classes with you. In fact, the two of you only had one class together for all four years of your college lives. Yet, there was something about you that had stuck with him. He didn't know what it was, but he hadn't felt that giddy over someone since his last relationship, his heart racing in his chest, his head spinning. He pushed everything down in favor of being able to pay attention in class. Though his coding skills were spectacular, his writing skills were less than stellar. He didn't understand how writing just came to you.

Especially not when you fell asleep halfway through your first monthly timed essay and still scored a 97. He could learn a thing or two from you, maybe. Were you doing memory consolidation in the middle of the exam? He has no idea how you did it.

Your name slips past his lips as you pack up after one class.

"Yeah?" You tilt your head at him.

"Are you," he pauses, (a little embarrassed. Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne, CEO of WE, was in need of help. Of course he was a little embarrassed.) "down to tutor me? My grade in this class is less than... acceptable." He grimaces at how his voice goes quiet.

You smile. "Yeah. I'm down. I'll give you my number and schedule and we can arrange a time. Expository writing isn't that bad. It's just the same sentence structure with some BS and then you're done."

"Easy for you to say," He hands you his phone.

"No. It's just like how you have structure when you code." You click your number in, texting yourself and saving his contact before you forget. "There is structure in everything you do."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You beam at him.

Tim's next essay comes back with an 81. It's a big improvement from the 64 he scored the first time. You were right, the essays being the same thing over and over again. The structure is as easy as basic coding is to him. He understands you now.

He thanks you by taking you to the diner, paying for your meal.

You kick your legs at the booth, milkshake straw between your lips, lost in thought.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He raises a brow.

"Tim... what's your last name?" You frown. "It's fine if you don't tell me, but my friends have been asking who I've been tutoring and I realized I have no idea what your last name is."

"It's Drake." He scans your face for something when he tells you.

"Drake..." You pause, letting go of the milkshake straw. "huh. Like the CEO." You go back to your milkshake after the revelation.

"Not surprised?"

"I mean," You grimace at him. "You wear the down-low designer brands your adoptive father does, so not really. I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to pry in case you didn't want to tell."

"Down-low designer brands?"

"Bruce Wayne has a specific way of dressing casual." You bite on your straw. "I know this sounds creepy but I've done more research on brands billionaires wear than I'd like to admit."

"Does it have to do with your writing?" Tim thanks the waiter as his order is brought.

"Yeah." You smile sheepishly. "Is that creepy? Sorry."

"No. I've been expecting the unexpected from you for a while now."

You laugh. "Yeah?"

"I have an older brother who writes in his free time and the amount of things he's done for research is crazy."

"Right? Reddit and Quora are my saviors." You mumble. "I obviously can't kill for research, so the internet is my best friend."

"Do you search on incognito?"

"No. I prefer being able to dig up my weird research from my search history." You shrug. "I bet the FBI has me on a watchlist."

"I could check if you'd like."

You feign a look of shock. "Really?"

He smiles at you, and the two of you burst into laughter.

"You going to Connor's Halloween party next week?" You finish the last of your milkshake.

"Of course not." He deadpans. "Must I remind you I hate going out?"

"Awh," You pout. "I wanted someone to match maid dresses with."

"Excuse me?"

"For research."

The smile on your face suggests anything but.

"You can consider it as payment for all the times I'm going to tutor you."

"I've been paying you."

"No." You shake your head. "You pay me each time we have a session. I'm letting you pay me for the rest of the lessons by showing up to the Halloween party in a maid dress with me."

Tim looks at you incredulously.

"Actually, I'll even draft a contract if you don't believe me." You smile.

"And if I turn you down?"

"I'll find one of my friends to do it with."

"Then why ask me?"

"The thrill of the unknown? The endless answers you could have chosen? A grasp on your character better? It could be anything." You smile sweetly at him. "It's fine. You can continue paying me like you normally do."

"Who would you match with if not me?"

"Well, I was thinking Sam or someone else," You shrug. "but Sam doesn't celebrate Halloween. I'd match with the other guy friend, but one of my friends is into him so I don't want to make it seem like I'm making a move on someone I know she likes."

"So you asked me?"

"I don't know, Tim." You shrug. "You tell me. I thought you were a genius."

He leans in to read your face better. "I'd say you asked me because you're interested in me."

"Bingo." You grin wider this time.

"It's been less than two months."

"And? Hasn't stopped people from already hooking up." You shrug. "You can say no."

"See, I'd say yes, but Connor would take a photo and it would end up in our groupchat's blackmail folder." Tim slides his fries to the middle when he catches you staring. "You can have one."

"I thought you were a master hacker?" You pick a fry from the carton.

"Yeah, but friend code."

"Ah." You nod slowly. "It's okay to say no. I won't get offended."

"Maybe next year." Tim shakes his head.

"No worries!"

Tim stalks your Instagram on the day of Halloween, staring at the post where you're matching maid dresses with your entire friend group. In the back of his mind, he wonders, for a brief moment, if it would have just been you and him if he had agreed. The thought disappears just as fast, sighing as he puts his phone down and domino mask on. He had patrol. He could think about his mess of emotions later. Gotham needs him.

Your breath hitches from the spiked punch, your friends long lost in the crowd, your head spinning as you stumble onto the balcony of the apartment, resting your head on the cool of the metal railing, trying to calm the thumping of your head. You hear something rustle in front of you, the sound of someone swinging, and you open an eye to get a look. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of Red Robin.

"Hey—"

"Dude... your costume looks way too realistic." You press your fingers to his armor, pulling him onto the balcony with you, mumbling under your breath as you feel him up through his costume. The smell of alcohol is apparent on your lips, the smell of your perfume flooding his senses — your cheeks are flushed beyond repair, and Tim finds himself frozen in place as you practically straddle him, fingers running to his face. His eyes dart to your cleavage unconsciously, staring back up to meet your eyes when he sees too much. You look sinful like this. His breath catches in his throat as he tries to loosen your grip on him without accidentally throwing you off, and he finally presses a hand of his to your stomach, successfully getting you to stop.

"Sorry." You mumble.

"No worries." He rasps, pushing you back onto your seat gently — heart drumming in his head.

"Ey, Red Robin!" Connor calls from inside the house. "You made it!"

"I'm not here to party. I was checking in on you to see if you were being responsible." He sighs.

You blink at him, doe-eyed, fascinated, drunken stupor all over your face.

"You're real?"

"Yes." He mumbles.

"Sorry for touching you."

"You're forgiven."

You lean back into your seat with an exhale, pulling out your phone as Connor leads Tim further into the party. He speaks to Oracle to let her know where he was, and he exhales when she tells him B says it's fine. He nods at the people who compliment his costume as he passes them, and he grabs himself a cup of punch, pausing when the alcohol stings his tongue. He dumps it in Connor's sink, eyes trailing to where you were sitting, breath catching in his throat at the sight of some sleaze slinging his arm around you. He rushes over to you, fingers smoothing down your neck to your shoulders, warning smile on his face.

"She has company for the night."

The man scrambles as you look up at him, beaming. His breath catches in his throat.

"Careful. I might just take you home."

"Don't you dorm?" He raises a brow in amusement.

"No one said my home." You turn around to reach for his jaw, fingers trailing down, breath fanning his. Tim would let you do this. He really would. He'd kiss you senseless on the balcony at Connor's house, yet he knows better than to do so. You're drunk from the punch. He'd be taking advantage of you no matter how much you want this when sober. So, he runs his thumb over your bottom lip, forehead meeting yours, every ounce of his willpower pulled into not just kissing you senseless here. If only you were sober. The things he would do.

"Where is she — babes! Time to go!" Your friend breaks the tension for him, pulling you away from him with a nod, alcohol riding off of her as well. He wonders if your driver is tipsy.

"I wanna go home with Red Robin..." You mumble, and your friend smacks you playfully. He notices one of you is sober, and he supposes that's enough. He heads back inside to find Connor.

Tim notices you miss class the next day. You text him to ask him to record the lecture for you, telling him the Halloween party was lit and you remember almost making out with a guy but your friend cockblocked you. Tim holds back a laugh in class, letting you know he'd email you his notes with the lecture recording. You thank him with an image, going offline immediately after. He clicks on his laptop, noting down whatever you might need. The recording would cover the rest. He sends everything at the end of class, your response instant. It wouldn't matter if you were absent from class. Your grade could take a hit.

He answers his phone when you dial him.

"Hey?"

"Timmers, you got Tylenol?"

"I can buy you some?" He offers. "I don't have class after this."

"Please? Oh, and throw in that one specific brand of bottled tea. I'll send you a photo." You grumble.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Like a dead girl walking."

"Taking that as a no. Want anything else?"

"I'll Venmo you the money. Bring me the receipt."

"You're sick. You can pay me back by actually being in class next lecture."

"Not hard. My head just hurts from the hangover."

"I'm guessing you got home safe?" Tim steps into the convenience store.

"Yeah. Our driver was sober. Thankfully."

Tim grabs the Tylenol and pauses. "I need the tea."

"Which convenience store are you in?"

"Metro."

"Aisle three by the American soda. It's green with white writing. You can read Chinese, right? It's Japanese but it says tea in Chinese."

"How'd you know?" Tim pauses. "Unsweetened green tea? The Japanese one?"

"Yeah. It helps a lot." You sniff. "Found out on google because someone made a compilation of you speaking foreign languages."

"So you assumed?"

"The part where you speak Cantonese, you were reading from a menu."

"Are you stalking me?"

"I'd prefer doing research."

"Stalking."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Tim checks out, tapping his phone to pay. He takes the bag and pauses at the sight of the instant noodles. "You sure you don't want anything else?"

"Nothing. Feel free to get what you need too."

Tim hears you drink something.

"I'll text you my dorm building and number. There's no pin to get in just let them know you're here to see me. I'm pretty close with the RA."

"Networking already, huh?"

"Whatever you want to call it."

You text him your dorm building and number, and he knocks on your door.

You open it with a weak push of your arm.

"Are you actually sick?"

"No." You thank him as he hands you the plastic bag. You pop two pills out, swallowing them with the tea. "I'm extremely hungover. I drank too much punch."

"And you didn't realize?"

"No. I was trying to drink my thoughts away." You sniff. "So? How'd you spend yesterday?"

"Handing out candy at the manor with Bruce." Which was a lie. He spent Halloween using every last drop of self-control to not kiss your drunk self senseless at Connor's place. He can still smell your perfume.

"Sounds boring."

"I do it every year." He shrugs. Also a lie. He spends every Halloween patrolling Gotham because it's the one night of the year where every single criminal decides it's alright to go apeshit.

"mm," You yawn. "I matched maid dresses with my friend group. I posted about it. Do you have insta?"

"No. I keep a low profile."

"So you don't have a private account?" You raise a brow.

"I do, but what makes you think we're close enough for it?" Tim mirrors your raise of brow.

You hold your hand to your mouth, pretending to be offended. "We're not close enough for it?"

"I'm kidding." He mumbles. "What's your handle? I'll follow you."

"You better not turn down my request." You reach for the green tea again, drinking it as you show him your account. He already knows your account. He figured he'd have to ask or else he'd be a hypocrite for calling you his stalker. Well, he's already a hypocrite.

"Ough!" You sit up straighter, reaching for your laptop. "Connor sent me these photos that the photographer caught of me and Red Robin" You swoon.

"You're into him?"

You blink at him. "Did I not tell you I run his stan account?"

"You do wHAT." He freezes. "Are you the girl who gets caught up on the news every other week because you accidentally fall while taking photos of him?"

"Yep." You grin. "He's my favorite Robin."

Tim was extremely conflicted at the discovery. In retrospect, he should have known from the way you seemed to climb all over him and pull him onto the balcony without second thought, but he's still embarrassed at the idea that you had fawned all over him. Yet he shakes his thoughts away as he peers over your shoulder to stare at the photos caught of the two of you — well, of you. You didn't know he was Red Robin.

There's a photo of you straddling him, feeling him up, and Tim's neck snaps to the side.

"Tim? You good? You don't need to look if you're uncomfortable, you know?" You remind.

"No," He swallows. "I wasn't expecting photos like this."

"Isn't the photographer good? I'd pay this guy to take photos of me at parties any day."

"Yeah?" Tim raises a brow as you show him the other two. One of him with his fingers on your collar, the other of his forehead pressed to yours, thumb between the two of you's lips. You explain to him in excitement that you would have kissed him had your friend not pulled you away because you needed to leave. Tim rests his back on your closet, nodding along slowly. He had homework to do. Yet he spent the rest of the afternoon in your room listening to you ramble about Red Robin, conspiracies reminding him of someone.

"So let me get this straight." Tim interrupts. "I'm on a time crunch. I have something for one of my compsci classes due soon and wanted to get the big picture."

"Oh. I'm sorry for—"

"Don't." He holds his hand out. "I stayed. You run the biggest Red Robin stan account on Twitter and you're planning on posting those photos like he's some kpop idol?"

"Yeah?" You tilt your head.

"Are the fans not going to get mad that he's making out with someone at a party?"

"No." You laugh. "His fans are used to him being in relationships. The most they'd do is figure out who that is, which is me, but that's it."

"You won't get death threats?"

"His fans aren't crazy."

"Yeah? You seem pretty mental to me."

You gasp. "Rude." You look to the side, sucking your cheeks in. "But not wrong."

"Yeah. If you denied it, I'd just pull up every single time you'd fallen while trying to get good photos of Red Robin."

You pout. "Shoo. You said you had something due soon."

"Last question."

"Shoot."

"You don't mind that he's never going to date you?"

"Timmers." You laugh. "He's a hero and I'm a fan. It's like asking me if I'm ever going to date a billionaire. It's impossible. Not written in the stars. It's a groundless dream."

"Yeah?" His own heart cracks a little when you mention a billionaire.

"Yeah." You smile. "Now do your work. You have a GPA to take care of."

"Got it."

Tim finds that nearing the end of the semester, you meet with him less and less, tutoring him on Zoom instead, apologizing, explaining that you had a ton of creative work due for your other classes. You had been planning on graduating early, he finds out. It was your freshman year, and you were trying to get your sophomore classes out of the way. He was bothered. It was incredible — the sheer amount of classes you took. It was more impressive that you had time to write your own creative works.

"So?"

"How did you score last time? I'm starting to think you have me tutor you still because you're into me." You joke.

"Ninety. All we have left is the stupid final."

"You're set then." You yawn. "Why still have me tutor you?"

Your mind wanders as you click on one of your assignments. "Oh, how about this, then? I have an interview I need to conduct for my journalism class, and you'd be the perfect candidate. I'm expected to record it in the building and it's due in three days."

"Three days?"

"I bet you have everything out of the way, huh?" You smile at him, batting your lashes. "Hm?"

Tim, does, in fact, have everything out of the way.

"And if I don't?" He likes teasing you.

"Then I'll ask one of my friends. The topic is the discussion of a topic you aren't familiar with. You're good with coding, something I can't do past basic HTML to edit how text looks." You hum. "I'm grappling at every excuse I can to hang out with you, if you can't tell."

"Oh, I definitely can."

"Great." You smile. "How does tomorrow at 8 in the morning sound?"

"So early?" Tim raises a brow.

"I'll bring us coffee. Give me your order."

"Sold."

Tim realizes at 3am that you never gave him a dress code. Should he show up in casual? Business casual? Semi-formal? Formal — no, formal attire seemed like too much. He grimaces as he's in the Batcave, irritation all over his face.

"Something wrong, Timmers?" Dick raises a brow.

"Yeah. What do you wear to an interview?"

"Depends what kind." Bruce answers, pulling the cowl from his head. "Who's the interviewer? Is it official?"

"A friend is interviewing me for a project."

"Final project or just a project?"

"Forgot to ask."

"You can't go wrong with semi-formal. Dress like old money." Dick hums. "Polo shirt and khakis. Throw in a sweater tied around your neck and you should be good to go."

"I agree." Bruce hums.

"Do you need to impress said friend?" Jason raises a brow from behind the two.

"Wh-what does that have to do with the interview?"

Jason smirks at the stutter. "Get Steph to dress you. She'd make you look good and dress for the occasion."

"I think I'll go with Dick's—"

"Half-buttoned dress shirt and dress pants." Steph cuts in, pausing. "No, that'll make you look desperate. Grey sweats, blazer, and a white tee. Dark colored blazer but NOT black."

"Why can't I just wear a polo shirt and just—"

"You want to look good, right? Roll the sleeves up to right before your elbows. Mess up your hair a little too."

Tim sighs. "It's winter."

"Drake. Do you want to look good for your crush?" Damian cuts in.

"She's not a crush-"

"Last time you said that you were still pining after your ex." Steph laughs. "If you really want to look casual just wear what you normally wear but add some perfume."

"She's interviewing me for my major." Tim finally gets to speak.

"Then just dress like you normally do." Dick pats him on the back with a laugh. "Hoodie and sweats. Wear a tee underneath if in case you get hot so you can pull it over your head and she can watch."

"Hey-"

"I agree with that." Steph smiles. "If you're lucky, your shirt will ride up a little and she'll get to see—"

"Got it!" Tim yells, groaning. "My usual clothing it is. I'll bring a blazer in case she does want me to dress semi formal."

"Attaboy." Bruce ruffles his hair as he makes his way up.

Tim groans. He's not going to get enough sleep for this.

You call him in the morning when the coffee shop you frequent isn't open.

"Mm?" Tim furrows his brows, morning voice evident.

"Coffee shop closed. You mind if I just make one at the convenience store for you?"

"Knock yourself out. You're early."

"I need to set up the equipment." You hum.

"What color should I wear?"

"Something not green. I'm in red. See you in an hour."

"See you." Tim mumbles back, ending the call. He sits up, bed hair evident, staring at himself in the mirror. The exhausted part of himself wants to go back to sleep, but the better part of him — the giddy, excited, coming-of-age-has-a-crush-on-someone part of him — has him sit up from sheer willpower. (something he finds he has a lot of when it comes to you) He gets out of bed, pulling for the clothes he prepped the night before, combing his hair for once. He'd like to look nice for the camera, for you, he thinks. It would be a little frustrating to see the stand-in CEO of WE dress so casually. He has some sort of reputation to hold up when he isn't a student. Though he supposes he's being interviewed as a student, so there's not much of a need to dress so well.

But he supposes he wants to impress you.

He arrives five minutes before 8, locking his car and knocking on the door to the room.

"Hey," You smile at him.

"You didn't lock the door." He locks it behind him. "In Gotham during winter?"

"I knew you'd be here early." You adjust the cameras. "Your coffee's on the table."

"Thank you," He takes off his coat, hanging it on the rack. "Can I know what questions you'll be asking me?"

"Next to your coffee." You yawn. "You're dressed nice."

"Is it too little?" He smiles at you apologetically.

"No. Not at all." You smile. "Not when I'm dressed like," You motion at yourself. "This."

"You look like a friend." He points.

"Honored." You laugh. "The cameras are set up. I rented the room until 11. Take your time with the coffee."

"You're asking about me?"

"Yeah." You laugh. "The goal is to gradually have you talk about why you chose your major so we can have a relatively deep conversation. It's an intro to interviewing course, but the professor's ultimate goal was to make sure we make at least one friend."

"Yeah?" Tim puts his coffee down, smile on his lips. "Am I that friend?"

"Yeah," You smile back at him. "You can ask me questions too. It's supposed to be a casual interview. I'll only ask you a question when we run out of things to talk about."

Tim discovers a symphony of information from you. You open your heart to him the same way he can to some extent, smile on his lips when he tells you about his days during high school and his earlier relationships, forgetting that this was an interview for your class and that you would probably have to go through hours of footage in response to this. The plush of the seat is warm underneath him, your voice is a melody to his ears, Tim nodding along as you tell him about the one time you snuck out of the house as a teenager and got your ass beat because you got caught. The smile on your lips is contagious, he finds. He hadn't fallen for someone this hard since his ex.

Tim took you to lunch that day, desperate to get to know more about you, desperate to know you. He would have called it a date if you had let him.

You had your laptop pulled up, sorting through the footage (the three hour long footage) of the two of you's conversation, nodding along and rambling casually, clicking through to cut more personal matters from the interview, only required to give your teacher a clip and the raw file's total length to prove that you two hadn't just staged a conversation. You take a fry from his plate, your sandwich finished on your plate, humming when you finish editing.

"Are you always this fast?"

"Depends on what context." You wink.

"You were pretty fast to upload those new Red Robin photos too." If he noticed the sexual connotation of your words, he didn't mention anything.

"Well, other than lighting, I don't really need to edit anything."

"Speaking of which, do you even pay tuition?"

"Martha Wayne Scholarship." You yawn. "Your dad is looaaaded."

You submit your assignment to Canva, yawning. "That was my last one."

"You finished all those writing assignments?"

"Writing comes to me like hacking does to you." You close your laptop, tucking it into your bag. "Thanks for lunch, by the way."

"Mhm." He smiles. "Glad you liked your sandwich."

"My favorite." You hum. "So? Any updates? New girl? New boy? Relationship? Your dad adopted a new sibling? What's new?"

"Siblings keep teasing me."

"Oh? For what? For me?" You press a hand to your chest, wiggling your brows at him. You burst into laughter when he turns red. "Yeah? Because of me?"

"I asked them what I should wear to an interview, and suddenly they were asking me if I had a girlfriend."

"Yeah? So what did you tell them?"

"Interview from a friend." His eyes meet yours, eerily sincere. "Why?"

(the use of friend leaves a pang in your chest)

"Curious." You shrug. "So? Going anywhere for vacation?"

"Just Christmas at the Wayne Manor. You know, the rich people gala?"

You shudder, laughing. "Good luck."

"I'll need it. God knows who else I have to network with that night."

"Well, my dorm's open if you want it." You shrug. "But I doubt Bruce would let you leave since you are the CEO."

"Stand-in." He corrects.

"CEO nonetheless." You hum. "Should I send you a Christmas present?"

"What would you even send me?"

"It would be a surprise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Tim finds a gift from you under the Christmas tree, presumably placed there by Alfred. He had missed when you dropped it off, knocked out in the warmth of his bed without the pressure of an exam for once, letting himself ignore the cases he promised himself he'd solve. He promised you he'd get one day of proper sleep. Your texts are the only ones that cause his phone to vibrate during break. (He's down horrendously bad for you, Jason had whispered to Dick while Tim had responded to your message, lovesick grin on his face.)

Distance gives the soul time to think, and Tim thinks he's in love with you.

It comes as a revelation on Christmas morning, coffee mug warm in his hand as he watches his siblings open their Christmas gifts, laughing at certain ones and holding back his face from a smile breaking past his lips at others. He's third on the list to open his gifts, third son and all, and Tim finishes the last of his coffee, fingers reaching for his presents, all wrapped in a shade of red different from Jason's blood red. He thanks everyone for their gifts, raising a brow in amusement when he pulls out Damian's, a genuine smile breaking on his smile at Bruce's. Finally, he finds himself reaching for the gift you had gotten him, his fingers shaking as he breaks open the wrapping paper, smile on his face at the camera you got him. There's even an SD card and a battery charger part of the box you had prepped him.

"Oooh, Timmers is that from your girlfriend?"

"She's not my—"

The family breaks into teasing remarks as Tim groans, blush fresh on his skin, heart racing in his ears — that's when he realizes, the painful realization, a realization that breaks him into silence — he's in love with you.

Bruce has everyone move on as Steph sits down to open her gifts, and Tim's throat dries at the epiphany. He's in love with you — and that same lovesick smile breaks on his face as he wonders if you got his Christmas present. It was as if the two of you synced with the gift. Maybe he'd catch you taking photos of him with your camera. This time, he should stare back at you, flash you a smile, strike a pose, something, anything to fluster you. He was already looking forward to patrol that night. He picks up his mug, excusing himself quietly to get another cup of coffee, pulling his blanket with him as he clicks on his phone, placing his cup under the machine as he thanks you for the gift.

You respond immediately, video-calling him on accident, flustered state caught on camera, hair still a mess from waking up.

"I'm so sorry—"

Tim laughs. "It's fine. Are you home?"

"No. I slept over at a friend's place since my mom and I don't celebrate Christmas." You smile at him fondly. "I brought the gift you mailed to me, though. I haven't opened it yet."

"Let's say it's for your bird watching."

"You did not." You gasp, looking over your phone. "I'll have my friend record a video when we rip open our presents. Have fun on Christmas, Tim. Love you lots—"

Tim's face turns utterly red at the words, blinking wide-eyed at the now-ended call. You just... wow. He takes his mug of coffee, sitting back at his old seat where his siblings were, in a half-blissed-out state at your words. (He's told later on by your friend that you had sobbed into her chest when you realized you told him you loved him on accident.)

You text him sometime during the afternoon with the video of you opening your present, thanking him for his generous gift. You let him know that you'd send him your new photos with his present first, letting him see how good the quality of his camera could be. He texts you to sit on your dorm roof instead, and you ask if he was planning on kidnapping you. Maybe you'd let him take you for a swing. Instead, he tells you it's a present for your fanpage. You ask him if he's going to call Red Robin himself. He leaves you on read.

Bruce notices the way Tim's eerily giddy for a Christmas patrol, but he doesn't comment on it.

You exhale into the winter air, the cold piercing your lungs as you hold the camera between your gloved fingers, kicking your legs as you sit on the edge of the building, strap hung around your neck. You hum quietly as you watch the snow start, and a shadow looms over your shoulder.

"Hey." Tim smiles at you, Red Robin outfit on.

"Woah. He wasn't lying." You gasp. Your name spills past your lips, rambling about how you were his biggest fan. He stares at you through the whites of his domino mask, smile breaking onto his face.

"I've seen your Twitter."

"Yeah?" You exhale, eyes sparkling. "Honored. I hope you aren't going out of your way to visit me or anything. Gotham needs their vigilantes."

"And if I am?"

"Then you should go." Your cheeks flush from the winter warmth, and he steps close to you, forehead pressed to yours.

"You remember me from Halloween?"

"We have a thing with meeting on holidays, hm?" You laugh gently, eyes crinkling, Tim's expression softening.

"Yeah, we do." He hums, leaning in further. "May I?"

"Yeah." You exhale, lips finally pressed to his under the winter snow, his hands warm on your face as you lean in closer to him, chest pressed to his, lips parted to give him access to your mouth. Your head spins deliciously from the taste of his lips, his perfume reminding you of someone you know all too well, your mind muddled with the fact that you're actually making out with Red Robin, your celebrity crush. You whimper against his lips when he nips at your bottom one, his breath catching in his throat.

"Fuck, pretty girl. You can't just do that." He heaves, resting his forehead on yours again.

"Wow." You breathe, starstruck, eyes staring up at his.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You laugh melodiously, and Tim feels his heart grow full. "Can I get a photo?"

"For you? Anything."

You make a Christmas post on your Twitter, photo of Red Robin with a Santa hat and white beard staying pinned for the Holiday season. (Tim wasn't allowed to live it down from his family, but he had gotten to kiss you stupid, so he was more than willing to take the jabs.)

He invites you to his place for New Year's Eve, invitation tumbling past his lips and nearly getting drowned out by his panicked rambling, cheeks red beyond repair and stutter catching in his throat, only for you to tell him that you'd "love to" and that you were "honored." You asked him if there was a dress code, and he told you it was fine. Even if the Wayne gala was that night, he would just sneak to his room when you arrived. He could finish socializing with the rich in a couple of minutes. Hell, he'd flirt his way out of it like Bruce did if it meant he could see you early. He tells you to arrive in a nice dress anyway, asking for your measurements so he could send you something. (You didn't want to give it to him, but he insisted.)

You pull up to the gala perfectly on time, ignoring the paparazzi asking you who invited you and making a beeline to who you assumed was Alfred and asking him if you could be taken to Tim's room. The gala wasn't somewhere you wanted to be, and Alfred had been more than welcoming, leading you and leaving you in Tim's room, telling you to make yourself comfortable since you were Tim's guest. You spent twenty minutes looking through his photobooks before he stumbled into his room, a little sweaty since he had been running.

"Hey." He smiles at you dorkily, smiling like a nerd in love.

"Wow. You're dressed nice." You mumble, staring him up and down.

"You don't look too bad yourself," He hums, locking his door behind himself. "Did you get to eat anything?"

"I ate before I came and made a beeline for Alfred when I came. Too many cameras."

"Sorry." He exhales. "Looking at my photos?"

"They're nice."

"They're from years ago." He hums. "Before my parents passed."

You mumble something under your breath, eyes meeting his in something akin to sadness.

"It's fine, now." Tim presses his thumb to the space between your brows, your expression relaxing immediately.

"Ah, right." You slip out the SD card from your purse, blinking at him. "You have a card reader?"

"Yeah." Tim sits in his chair, opening his laptop through some series of codes, holding his hand out for your SD card.

You drop it in his palm, his fingers drumming against the table as he opens the files.

"I got photos of Red Robin." You grin. "He was there on my dorm roof. Did you send him?"

"Yeah." He smiles. "Did you like the gift?"

"My Twitter loved it." You smile. You neglect to tell him that you had kissed Red Robin breathless. (Tim doesn't notice the way you get embarrassed, trying to fight off the red on his own cheeks when he remembers the way the two of you had made out on the roof.)

Tim pauses at the photo of him swinging away.

"Why didn't you post this one?"

"I was actually planning on posting it today." You hum. "The ones of him in action."

"You have multiple?"

You click into a folder, enter your password, showing him the photos.

"The camera's great, by the way. Red Robin may not have an ass as impressive as Nightwing, but he still has a nice ass." You laugh, clicking open the photos. Tim chokes on the air at the photos, and he laughs.

"Oh, yeah, Twitter would love this."

You shrug playfully. "What can I say? It pays."

Tim glances at the clock on the wall. Two minutes from midnight.

"How'd you spend the morning?"

"My friend came to pick me up so she could do my makeup." You laugh. "Then she brought me to the mall so we could get me some heels," You kick your legs to show him. "And then another friend, the one with a nice car, drove me here. My other friends insisted they watch me walk off to you. I forgot to tell them your last name after I asked for it, so they were quite surprised when they dropped me off her."

"Maybe I should thank your friends for helping you look so pretty."

"Yeah?" You smile, hopping to sit on his desk.

He stands up, pressing his forehead to yours, tucking your hair behind your ear, nose brushing yours.

"Yeah. What do they like?" Tim hums, your perfume flooding his senses again, his doing the same.

"Ever been told you share a perfume with Red Robin?" You whisper.

"No. You'd be the first."

"What's the brand?"

The brand falls onto silence as you press your lips to his, fireworks signaling the new year going off in the back. Tim's hands dig into your waist, eyes half-lidded, tongue pressing into yours with so much passion your knees might've gone weak had you not been already seated. Your hands find themselves tangled in his hair, pulling lightly when his hand finds itself on the zipper behind you. He pulls away for a moment, begging for your consent, asking if this was okay.

You had told him yes in a heartbeat.

Thus, Tim found himself enveloped with you, senses sent into overdrive, your skin pressed to his, sweat mixing with his, body tangled with his in his sheets — the same sheets he had thought about you so often in, the one where he had thought about you while he spilled into his hand, fingers pressed to your skin, mouth on your skin, sucking, biting, marking, doing whatever you would let him do to you. Your dress was long abandoned by his desk, his own suit leaving a trail toward the bed where he had you in his fingers.

He prayed this wouldn't be a foolish dream.

When he wakes in the morning, pulling you closer to his chest, your lashes fluttering against his skin, his heart warms. He should ask you to date him right now, he thinks. But his heart races in his chest, wondering if you would agree. Maybe the two of you had kissed in the heat of the moment, and you had let him have you because he had asked so nicely. He looks down at you as your eyes are completely open now, embarrassed smile on your face. He misses his chance.

"Good morning." He looks at you like you're his whole world.

"Good morning." You smile back at him like he's the universe.

The two of you fall back into the pace you had established the previous semester, this time without any classes together, only texting every now and then with updates. Tim hates this new life he lives. He misses seeing you during class and watching you play subway surfers on your phone or Bloons TD on your laptop. He opts for texting you during class instead, typing notes as he types responses to your messages. He wonders if you miss him the same way he misses you. He's too afraid to ask, still clinging onto the way your skin had felt on his during New Year's. It doesn't help that your department is halfway across the campus.

The next time he gets to see you, he's Red Robin, and he catches the familiar flash of your camera on the rooftop as he swerves into action. He finishes with the thugs easily, swinging back up to land next to you, your camera pressed to your chest, clicking capture as he raises a brow at you. You blink at him, smile on your lips. You don't look apologetic at all, almost cheekily. It was as if you knew he'd notice you.

"Hey."

"Hey." You beam at him. "Nice fight."

"Thank you. Care to tell me why you're out here during the February cold to get photos of me?"

"Because you're my favorite?" You blink at him, eyes wide.

"That's cute." He hums. "Shall I take you home?"

"Oh, if you could be so kind." You smile. "I had a friend drop me off nearby and I think he left already."

"Yeah?" Tim wraps an arm around your back, pressing you to him snugly, your arms wrapping around his neck. You close your eyes as the winter air hits your face, only for him to whisper into your ear. "Open your eyes."

Gotham looks breathless from wherever the hell Red Robin was in the air. Your breath catches in your throat, staring in awe as Tim swings from building to building, finally landing on the one where you dormed. You let go of him, cheeks warm from the air and the view, turning to look at him.

"Thank you. Thank you a lot." You smile at him, Tim mirroring your smile.

"Can I get a reward?" He had meant it as a joke, only for you to press your lips to his cheek, his eyes widening at the feeling.

"Is that good enough?"

"I was thinking something else, but that works too." He presses his lips to the corner of yours, smile on his face. "Stay safe."

"For you." You wave at him as he swings away from your building. You look through the photos you had gotten of him, going down the flight of stairs to the elevator. You had stuff to post for the rest of the month.

Tim finally bumps into you at the convenience store one fateful afternoon, reaching for your wrist before he could even register that he was scared you'd run off. He blinks at you as you blink back at him, tilting your head to offer him an awkward smile.

"Hey?"

"Hi. I'll pay, um, if you'll let me have a moment of your time."

"Yeah? Yeah." You nod dumbly. "That'd be fine. I don't have class right now."

"Yeah. I'll take your basket." He reaches for it naturally, swiping his card with ease. He hands you your stuff back, and you follow him, popping open your green tea.

"What'd you need me for?"

"Missed you."

"Yeah? I missed you too. It's weird not sharing a class anymore." You press the tea to your lips. "Missed me or the insanely good sex we had on New Year's—"

"You." Tim smiles. "Missed hearing your voice."

"Awh, what a cheeseball." You snicker, staring at the green start on the trees. "Cherry blossom season is approaching."

"Yeah. So are midterms." He shudders. "How's your classes?"

"You know, drowning in work in order to graduate early." You hum. "I'm writing something right now."

"For class?"

"Yeah. For fiction writing. The story has to be related to something you've experienced in college so far and I was wondering—" You inhale sharply through your teeth. "If I could write about us?"

"As your friend or as the guy you slept with on New Years?"

You open and close your mouth. "Both. Yeah. Both."

"May I read it after you finish?"

"I'll share the doc." You smile. "Thank you. I've been meaning to ask you."

"I'm honored that you'd write about me as a college experience."

"Yeah..." You trail off. "Oh, did you see my Twitter update? I got these super clear photos of Red Robin fighting thanks to the camera you gave me. Thank you, again."

"You're welcome." He hums. "Doing anything on Valentines?"

You puff out your cheeks. "Supposed to hang out with friends, but me and my other friend want to ditch so the two idiots would finally get to hang out without us third and fourth wheeling."

"So you're busy?"

"Not if you want to hang out." You tilt your head, capping your green tea.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Yeah." You hum. "But you'd have to make it worth ditching for."

"Oh, then leave everything to me." He hums, fingers brushing yours. "I'll pick you up around nine in the morning."

"And what time will you have me back?" You tease, pressing yourself closer to him.

"What time do you want to be back?"

"Whatever time you want." You hum. "Please pick me up in a nice car your dad owns. I want to see the interior of one of them."

"Sure." Tim hums. "Any other requests?"

"How should I dress?"

"Casual." He hums. "Do you want to match?"

"We can color coordinate." You gasp. "What color do you own the most of?"

"Red." He hums.

"Owh! We can match red." You grin.

Tim walks you back to your dorm, staring as you enter the elevator and disappear from view. He thinks a little about where he should bring you, lips pulling up lightly when he remembers something you had mentioned off-handedly in your interview with him. He knew now.

Tim shows up at your door with roses, your friends peering from behind the door as you take the flowers with him with a light flush on your cheek. You're dressed completely casual, red sweatpants matching his red hoodie, grey hoodie matching his sweats. You smile at him sweetly as you take the flowers from him, and your friends pull you aside, staring him down. One of your friends, bless her, tells him to treat you properly. She jabs a finger into his chest, going off about how she didn't care if he was some rich dude — the same rules applied, especially when it was your first relationship. Tim's eyes widen at the fact, your eyes darting to the side, a little embarrassed. Your other friends drag her off of him.

"Why didn't you tell me I'm your first?" He whispers.

You pout. "Didn't want to come off as inexperienced."

"That's not something to be embarrassed about." He hums.

"You would've treated me differently if you knew."

Tim sucks in a breath. "Yeah. I would've."

"Point proven." You hum. "Thank you for the flowers. They're very pretty."

He opens your door for you, waving bye to your friends. You sit there, staring at him as he stares at you.

"Where are we going?"

"Remembered how you joked about being taken on a first date to Costco?"

"No." Your jaw drops.

"I have a membership." He pulls the card from his wallet, and you gasp.

"You spoil me."

"Save that for when you're actually inside."

You fake a swoon, smiling at him sweetly, lips curled upward and brows relaxed. Tim hums, pulling on his own seatbelt, handing you the aux to the car, and you put the flowers onto the backseat. You plug your phone in as he starts driving, and you blink at all the buttons on the car.

"What are these for?"

"One of them's for missiles."

"What." Your jaw drops.

"I'm kidding." He laughs. "Most of them are for defense. Bruce's very into cars."

"I can tell." You mumble. "What are we getting at Costco?"

"Your green tea," He stops at the light. "And whatever else intruiges you."

"Can I get a Costco hotdog?"

"Yeah." He laughs. "You want a slice of pizza too?"

"Maybe." You scrunch your nose. "Moreso a hotdog."

"We can get whatever you want." Tim hums.

"Wow, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to woo me." You laugh. (Tim hates the way he notices your eyes crinkle.)

"And if I am? It is Valentines."

"Woah." You mumble. "I didn't consider that."

"Yeah?" For someone so good at reading people, Tim sure struggled with reading you.

"I don't know." You frown. "Are you trying to swoon me? Or are you trying to get into my pants again?"

"Whichever one helps you sleep at night."

You laugh. "Using my own words?"

"You speak better than I do." He hums. "Do you want your hotdog first or later?"

"Later." You unlock your seatbelt, leaving the car. It looks awfully unassuming on the outside. Great for Gotham, you suppose.

"I'll push the cart." Tim holds his hand out for you and you take it, fingers wrapped in his. He lets go once he gets a cart, handing you his membership as you show the worker at the door. "Want a new iPad?"

"You know, I should make you buy Costco for me." You joke, patting his shoulder.

"Two hundred thirty two billion dollars? That's Bruce's money, not mine."

You snicker. "You have it memorized?"

"Stock trading for the company." He hums. "Stock is currently around five hundred dollars per stock."

"How the hell do you have time for schoolwork?"

"Coffee and an insane amount of self-discipline." He hums. "And revenge procrastination."

"At least you have some sort of weakness." You finally catch the drinks aisle, rushing in to find your green tea, Tim following behind you.

"I'll get it." He hums, reaching and pulling the green tea with ease, sliding it to the bottom of the cart. "Want anything else?"

"Can we browse?"

"Yeah."

You wander through the aisles, a comfortable silence washing over the two of you before you decide to speak up.

"Does Alfred need anything?"

"He's probably glad he has the house to himself for once." Tim hums. "Almost all of us are on a date."

You blink in surprise. "Even the youngest?"

"Except Damian." He hums. "Bruce is out too."

"Woah." You mumble. "The house must be quiet."

"Yeah." he hums.

"That did not answer my question." You pout.

"I texted. He sent a list." Tim mumbles, sharing the list. "You don't mind shopping for my family?"

"No." You smile. "I like grocery shopping with someone. It feels warm."

"Yeah? We're in the snacks aisle, so let's start there."

The two of you work your way through Costco, checking off Alfred's list of groceries, double-checking everything over when you finished. Tim grabs a rotisserie chicken for Alfred without it being on the list, and he grabs a tray of croissants, knowing Cass would probably want something sweet to snack on during the day. You text your friends to check if they want anything, and only one of them responds, telling you she's good. You have a feeling the other two are hooking up.

"Anything they want?"

"No." You smile.

"And you?"

"Just the green tea."

Tim raises a brow. "I'll feel bad if I only get stuff for my family while on a date with you."

"The tea is plenty." You beam. "I promise."

You help Tim unload the cart and then reload it, rocking on your feet as he swipes his card, not even checking the price twice, handing you the receipt as he pushes the cart out. The worker swipes the highlighter through the list, and Tim takes a right instead of a left.

"The car's—"

"Hotdog." He hums. "Can you get us two hotdogs? Card's in my wallet."

You take his card and get the hotdogs, tossing them into the cart as you hold the two paper cups.

"What do you want to drink?"

"What are you getting?"

"A little bit of everything."

"Then get me the same thing." He smiles.

You wonder if he's going to hate the flavor on his tongue. Though it's not your problem as you fill the cups, putting them in the holder as Tim pushes the cart back to his car, the two of you loading it into his trunk.

"We'll drop by my place first, and then we can drive to the next place I have planned." He takes the drink, straw in his lips. He blinks at the taste, eyes widening. "Wow. That's a flavor."

"Certainly is." You smile. "Like it?"

"Tastes like something Dick would have." He hums. "I'll push the cart. Get in the car."

You sit in the passenger's seat, opening your hot dog as Tim comes back.

"Ever had one before?" He opens his own, biting down.

"Yeah. My friends and I drop by pretty often." You hum. "Love the hotdogs."

"I should do that." He hums. "Alright. My house."

You chew on your hotdog as he heads toward his place, the music from your phone filling the car.

You wonder for a moment if Tim was actually into you. You have no doubt that you're important to him, but it was a little strange. You had slept with him before. What does that make you two? Friends with benefits? Friends who have slept together? Plain friends? A situationship? You chew on your bottom lip as he drives, mind elsewhere. Also, what were you with Red Robin? You can't call yourself a fan when you've had his tongue stuck down your throat before. There was too much to consider and ask. Maybe you should just ask Tim. (You don't, out of a fear of something. You're not too sure of what.)

When the two of you arrive, You help Tim sort the stuff into bags, carrying them to the front door as he unlocks it with ease, calling for Alfred and Damian to help with the groceries. Damian comes first, taking some of the bags from you, Alfred after him, showing you where the kitchen is.

"Thank you very much for running groceries for me, Master Tim." He nods. "You too, miss."

You smile. "No biggie. We were at Costco and I figured it'd be nice to do the groceries for you."

"It's very kind of you."

"Are you Drake's girlfriend?" Damian's next, eyeing you up and down, a scowl on his face.

"No?"

He frowns harder. "You deserve someone better."

"I really don't think—"

"Demon brat." Tim's voice comes out like a warning. "Don't tell my date to leave me."

"Is she not your girlfriend? I would have expected you to have already—"

"That's enough." Tim warns again, and Damian shuts up this time.

"Shall I prepare food for the two of you?"

"No need." Tim hums. "We have reservations."

"You made reservations? Do I need to change?" You follow after him, waving bye to Alfred and Damian.

"No. It's at the diner. It's Valentine's, which means there's twice as many couples there."

"Ohhh." You follow him into the car, sitting back down as he starts toward the diner again. "Is that all you had planned?"

"Also planned to take you home after this." He pauses. "My home. I was thinking we could use the movie room in the manor, granted none of my brothers get to it first. If that doesn't work, we can use the projector in my room."

"Are we gonna have sex?" You wiggle your brows playfully.

"If you want, I can have you screaming my name loud enough for Metropolis to hear."

You wince, looking to the side, embarrassed. "Holy shit."

"Expect the unexpected."

"I'm going to throw a milkshake at you for that."

"Cry about it."

The two of you get to the diner just in time for the reservation, your regular orders already memorized by the waiter. You're a little embarrassed, but you suppose it's not the worst thing ever. Tim finds the time asking if you enjoyed the day so far instead. You pull out your laptop as you wait for your order, continuing with the assignment due soon.

"Writing?"

"Yeah. Writing." You puff out your cheeks, fingers flying on the keyboard.

"What are you writing?"

You look up from your screen to stare at him. You don't say anything, but Tim gets the idea.

"Need a reference?"

"Actually," You lick your lips, scrolling up through the doc. "I'd like to meet Red Robin again."

"Your date's right here and you're talking about another man?"

"Writing fanfiction for him right now." You deadpan. "Need to know his kinks."

Tim coughs in embarrassment, forgetting how straightforward you could be.

"For a commission?"

"No. Out of curiosity." You pause. "I was curious to know what he would be into."

"Why not base him off of me?"

You raise a brow at Tim, swallowing thickly.

"Is this your way of telling me you don't want me writing fanfiction of other men?" You ask him one question, eyes asking another.

"Yeah." He smiles. "Yes to both questions."

You close your laptop when your milkshake and sandwich arrive, and Tim kicks you gently under the table.

"So what was the other question?" He raises a brow.

"I'll tell you in the car," You smile cheekily. Tim knows what the other question is. He just wanted to see if you were bold enough to ask him. The two of you continue with dinner, catching each other up with your friends' lives, smile on both of you's lips as the sun sets and the moon rises, Tim paying as he said he would. You take his hand into yours as the two of you walk to his car, and he opens the door for you, joining you on the other side.

"Before I ask," You lean over slightly, lips brushing his. "Can I have a kiss?"

"That's a question too, but I won't say no." He leans in for his lips to meet yours, hand moving to hold your face, tongue swiping on your bottom lip, darting into your mouth. You moan into the kiss as his other hand squeezes your waist, and you pull away from him suddenly, licking your lips for whatever taste of him was left. You grin at him cheekily, reaching to wipe the lipstick from around his lips, your voice lowering.

"The question I actually wanted to ask was if you were Red Robin." You grin, wiping the lipstick on a napkin leftover from Costco. "And I knew you'd read it off of me."

"How'd you guess?" He tilts his head at you, eyes still on your lips.

"First it was your perfume," You smile. "Then it was the way you kissed me." You pop the vanity mirror down, reaching into your hoodie for your lipstick. "Not to mention the way your forearms feel the same. Both of you have a specific way that you hold me when making out. I think that was the nail in the coffin."

You pucker your lips when you finish with the lipstick, tossing it back into your hoodie, closing the vanity mirror.

"So? Where are we headed now?"

"My place." He mumbles. "Have to have you."

"You could have me in the car."

"As much as I would like that," He exhales. "That would be very uncomfortable for you."

"Can I have you in the costume sometime later on?" You bat your lashes at him. "If you'd let me, of course."

"Yeah. Anything you want." His head thumps as he stops at the light.

There's a long, drawling silence before you speak up. You're scared, but you might as well ask.

"What are we, again?" You lean over slightly to stare at him. Tim notices you haven't put music on.

"If you'd let me," Tim licks his lips, "lovers."

"Then lovers we are."

The second time Tim gets to have you, he's so much gentler, fingers kneading the skin between them, curling them inside of you until you're a whimpering mess, worried that you'd wake someone in his family, his kisses assuring you that all of his brothers were out doing the same thing he was, wining and dining someone they loved, rooms also soundproof. Tim goes back to you after that, soaked fingers and sheets, licking your cum from his fingers, eyes locked with yours the entire time, pressing his lips to yours after he finishes. Your eyes roll back at how lewd he was being, but you suppose it's what the two of you deserve after flirting for so long.

Tim makes sure you're properly pampered in bed, your legs twitching after your third orgasm, begging for him to fuck you, tears in your eyes. How could he say no? Not when you looked so dazzling under him. He seems to understand something as he pushes into you this time, pausing to drink your form in, still as pretty as you had been before. This time, arguably prettier. You were so much prettier when you were crying about how you were his, cunt still oversensitive from your previous orgasms. Your face twists in pleasure, crying about how you were unable to take another release yet relenting as Tim drilled into you. You have no idea how he has the energy, and you're too tired to ask when he finishes.

You grimace as he peels you from the bed, setting you on the tile seat as he starts a shower for the two of you.

"I love you." You mumble. Not on accident or out of habit this time.

"How long?"

You exhale. "Don't remember."

"Approximation."

"Since I fell at your feet at orientation, maybe." You whisper into the mist as he helps you wash up.

"I love you too." Tim mumbles into your skin as he presses a kiss to where he had left hickeys.

"How long?" You repeat his question, staring at him as he stares down at you, moving the shower head to wash the bubbles from your skin.

"Since Christmas." He whispers back.

You smile at him.

"Since I told you I loved you on accident?"

"Yeah." He stops the water, wrapping you in a towel, drying you. You hum in satisfaction as he dries the two of you off, your fingers warm around his wrist when you grow tired.

"Can we sleep? I usually air dry my hair."

"Yeah." He presses a kiss to the crook of your neck, lifting you into his arms as he takes the two of you back to bed.

"What tag would you put on our story?"

"Idiots in love." You smile as you drift off, and Tim presses his lips to your forehead.

His tag would have been requited love.

[killuintense]

❝ see you, leon ❞

rookie!leon kennedy x fem!reader.

Warning: first part, final part | isn't necessary to read it to understand this second part.

summary: the weeks had passed and Leon and you each time had more affectionate and... particular touches.

note: 3.2k words, fluff, comfort, smut, handjob, blowjob, oral (m!receiving), throatfucking, pulling hair, praising, soft dom and a little of perv Leon.

note: while i was writing this i was really thinking if i should do a third part but i don't know, i'm undecided, i don't want to drag it out unnecessarily but i love writing it T.T I hope you really enjoy it, comments and reblogs are always welcome!! ♡

Leon's thoughts these last weeks were an endless banquet. He was trying to sort out his thoughts and to understand these particular feelings, especially since he was already an adult and couldn't be feeling like a teenager when he was 21 years old. But simply the interactions with you had become somehow... particular.

Inevitably, seeing each other often and having to accompany you to college or to specific places where your father asked Leon to approach you had made the two of you closer. But that didn't mean you had to become more affectionate with each other, and yet there you were, giving each other glances from afar in the office, gently brushing against each other as you passed each other's desks, joking more with each other than with any other intern in the police department. And that's because Leon started out seeing you as a beautiful young woman, as that fresh breeze he so desperately needed and, don't get him wrong, he still was, but now every time he saw you besides that he felt tingly, his fingertips restless to want to touch you, to want to walk along the curve of your hips to your waist. Sometimes he surprised himself by not being able to take his eyes off that shirt that was slightly transparent, revealing the lace bra that you happened to have put on that day he had to spend all day locked up in the office doing paperwork. Even you yourself sometimes caught him looking at you as if you were a candy that they were not allowed to eat, or even desire.

For Leon it was certainly quite new to feel this way, desiring another person had not been in his plans since his youth had been so traumatic, and even when he had made the effort to have a partner, it had all been very awkward and weird. So, with those feelings on top, he sometimes felt guilty for looking at you so morbidly, as if inside you didn't flutter every time that police officer had to make an effort to get back to work so he wouldn't keep getting distracted by your innocent cleavage or your tight pants which, for some reason, you let show more when you bent down to pick up something you dropped. Not at all intentional.

You enjoyed a little -too much- pushing him to the limit, or seeing what his next reaction would be. And even though Leon was quite bashful and shy, bordering on awkward, he would sometimes surprise you when he would unconsciously make suggestive jokes or touch you almost without realizing it. And lately those interactions were becoming more and more frequent.

"Today you seem to have a different hairstyle, do you want to conquer a boy in your university perhaps?" he joked, while he took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee for you and fiddled with a loose strand of your hairstyle; it was nothing new or particular, but that man seemed to see with dazzling eyes even the most ordinary thing in you. That day you had stopped by his desk to leave him some coffee, and apparently he took advantage of the fact that there weren't many officers hanging around the office to get up from his chair and stretch a bit. Although it was just an excuse to see you better.

"From college? Do you think there aren't hot cops here?" you played along and laughed as you denied "Actually that's the hairstyle I wear almost every day, rookie" you raised an eyebrow and gently pulled him closer, crossing your arms across your chest as you gave him a gentle swat on his arm with amusement. You felt your breath fail you every time you were close to him and he seemed to stop being so shy, and the fact that he was rarely so bold made you want him more and more, wanting to get his attention in every possible way caused a relentless heat in your chest and other parts of your body. More than one you wanted the blond in front of you to touch them.

Every week felt like you were getting more and more affectionate, as if every time they passed the need to get a little closer and feel a little more unbearable. Like the time you had approached him to hand him some papers that as a favor your father had given you for Leon, and he had rested his hand absentmindedly on your waist giving you a light squeeze, saying 'Thank you'. It had warmed you up in a way to see him so focused on his work and that without thinking twice, his first reaction would have been to grab your waist in such a possessive way. What you ignored, as you soon went about your business, was that Leon became aware of your movements and was now as red as a tomato, his hand still tingling from having touched you in that way. You also sometimes found yourself running your hands over his shoulders and massaging him 'friendly' feeling how his hardened muscles under your touch relaxed little by little, and he sighed with pleasure. Oh, God, so many scenarios.

Sometimes you felt like a pervert with poor Leon, as if you were going to corrupt that good boy behavior he had, the full-fledged cop who sought to protect everyone. You liked to imagine him in scenarios totally unsuitable for him. Pushing you up against his desk when it was just the two of you in the office, imprisoning himself inside you without caring if anyone came in and saw you. Would he ever do it? Did he even see you that way? Anyway, you were still content with his little touches and whispers in your ear while you were in the break room.

"Seriously" both of you sharing complicated giggles. He was gently caressing your hand and you were denying; it was such an obvious but intimate flirtation between the two of you "You should come patrol with me, you know? I look very professional doing it" he gave a look of superiority that you swore was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen in your whole fucking sight. You wanted to devour him.

"Leon, you'd be distracted, you always make dumb jokes when you're together" you scolded him and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, caressing slight abstract shapes on your skin as he shrugged, downplaying it.

"I can handle that" he spoke, taking a sip of his coffee, which he swallowed quickly as soon as he seemed to remember something "In fact, when I was in the police academy they gave me a course on how to patrol having sweet spoiled little girls as co-pilot" he stated, earning a bump on his pelvis with your hip, unsettling him a bit as he staggered back, laughing even more.

"You're unbearable, Kennedy" you snorted, laughing as you saw that he kept looking at you, smiling mockingly but with that look of sweetness in his eyes, knowing that he was saying all those things to see you smile; because only your smile could undo all the bad in his day. Although, you thought it would be fun to leave him a little souvenir of you for bothering him "Anyway, I have to get on with my thing. See you, Leon" before walking away you left a little kiss on his neck, since it was the closest you had without having to stand on your tiptoes to reach his cheek, because of the height difference. You surprised him, yes, but he remembered you even more at the end of the day, when he was taking off his suit in the locker area.

"Roookie, you look like you've been having fun lately, don't you?" one of his buddies said to him as he finished putting his uniform away in the locker corresponding to him. Several other cadets came over to see what he was referring to while Leon looked on in confusion as they laughed pointing at his neck. As soon as he saw himself in the nearest mirror he could see the mark of a kiss made with carmesi lipstick. The same one that you always wore; but that only Leon noticed when he saw you so close. Was he serious? He had been walking around all day with a kiss of yours marked on his skin. You were really terrible, spoiled and defiant.

Yes, she had to put up with a couple of teasing but... she had to admit that she seriously thought about not removing the mark from her neck. However, he didn't want your father to banish him from his post forever. Although for you and your sweet mouth on his neck he would think about it as many times as necessary.

That day was one like any other for Leon, he got up early in the morning, took a quick shower and ate what breakfast he had time for before rushing off to the police station in his Jeep, arriving after ten minutes. He was a little disappointed not to see you glued to your books like every morning, reading text after text with a frown and a pencil glued to your lips with interest, deciphering every sentence you came across. With some laziness for not having your jokes and comments so early in the morning, she went to the locker room to put on her uniform and start with the paperwork once and for all.

His day continued to be boring, and he thought patrol time would be just as monotonous as usual until he spotted you across the street, as beautiful as ever. You were talking to what appeared to be a classmate from your college; you were wearing a short but straight skirt, clinging to your curves along with a tight but long-sleeved T-shirt with a high neck, leaving to the imagination as it clung suggestively to your chest. His gaze went down to your legs, his eyes wandered over your thighs, he wanted to squeeze them and sink into them, bite into them; these were covered by full, thin but dark stockings and brown mid-calf boots. Everything looked so good on you, so elegant but sensual at the same time. Almost felt the need to be able to look at you and proudly say 'Yes, that girl over there is mine'.

"Leon?" your soft voice mixed with a little giggle brought him out of his thoughts, you were tapping on the glass of the patrol car, waving with a wave of your hand while smiling with surprise as you confirmed that it was Leon. He opened the door of the vehicle and let you in.

"Hey, what were you doing here?" he asked almost immediately, an overprotective tone was present since it was quite common that that area was quite dangerous and far from your university "You know it's not safe" he almost scolded, but you ignored him leaving a soft kiss on his cheek as a greeting as it was customary between you. However, what that meant was that every time you did so Leon's tongue seemed to get tongue-tied.

"Damn, you're serious about police work with me, you know?" you laughed. "But relax, I just had to get together with a partner for work, officer, no big deal..." you tugged one of his blond hairs playfully, listening to the soft sigh from his lips, giving up on you. He continued driving while he asked you about your day, and warned you that as soon as the patrol was over he would catch up with you at the station or your house "In fact... you owed me the ride" you said playfully "You know, you should put into practice what they taught you at the academy, patrolling with a spoiled girl as a co-pilot" you reminded him, and Leon let out a soft laugh, denying.

"Luckily I passed that test so I've got it covered, pretty girl" his gaze stayed on the road, one of his hands glued to the steering wheel and the other maneuvering the gearshift, braking on the side as he scanned the sides, checking to make sure there was nothing strange or out of place around the area. He was about to resume the ride when he felt your hand gently squeeze his thigh, causing him to look at you somewhat nervously. "Why...?" the words caught in his throat and he had to swallow as best he could to keep from choking, as you were getting higher and higher and he was not a person with much self-control over the natural reactions his body could have.

"Because I missed you... yesterday and today we almost didn't get to see each other" you weren't playing when you said that, and the soft pout on your lips melted Leon, sending a pang to the tip of his dick, making him like a hormonal teenager become fully hard in a matter of seconds. He was so embarrassed, he could feel the wetness of the precum staining his underwear and if he kept it up, feeling your hand squeezing his hard cock, it would eventually stain his uniform. "Leon... can I...?" the need in your voice, saying that almost like a pleading moan. Leon would die right then and there, and he thought about telling you no, he didn't want to put you in that situation but he was so horny and needy for you and your mouth that he nodded with pathetic quickness.

"Y-yes... ah... fuck" he hissed as your fingers quickly unbuckled his belt. He lifted his hips helping you pull down his underwear and his cock slapped against his abdomen as you brought your face dangerously close to his dripping, weeping head. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, and your ears sweetened with the gasps he let out so desperate to feel the warmth of your mouth with your throat squeezing him so that you learned every fucking vein on his dick desperate for you. "Please don't punish me like that..... Oh, shit" he moaned throwing his head back, sinking his hair into the headboard. You had run your tongue outlining his hot, dripping shaft, your saliva leaving a hot trail as you eagerly collected his wetness.

"I didn't know you were so big, with that innocent little face of yours, you keep such a big cock" you whispered into his tip, and he in a spasm lifted his pelvis, causing his head to brush your lips. Your hands traveled from his thighs to his phallus, squeezing it to create friction as you moved up and down nonchalantly, making a torturous, slow dance. You wanted to know what he would do to make you take him in your mouth, you wanted to make him desperate to fuck the inside of your mouth as if his life depended on it. But you knew he was trying hard not to cum right there; so sensitive.

"For God's sake, I'm going to explode, just... just suck it all at once" his voice became a little harsh, and you were already feeling so wet and throbbing. But your boy was waiting for you so you giggled and took the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking with desire and devotion. It felt warm and somewhat salty, slippery but at the same time sticky and Leon's hand traveled to your hair 'Wow.... Pretty desperate' you thought, and that thought triggered a smoldering need to keep driving him to the edge of driving him crazy. So without making him wait any longer you shoved as much as you could into your mouth, getting used to the size because, shit, Leon sure was thick. He squeezed your hair and stretched it gently, moaning sharply as he rammed into your mouth for the first time. Your legs turned to jelly and you trembled, lowered and raised your head as you settled his cock in your throat making it as deep as possible so it would go all the way in, squeezing you around it. Obscene noises and moans from both of you graced the patrol car that Leon was thankful was armored. "God, your mouth, fuck, so good, you suck me so good" he moaned, not even thinking about what he was saying, raising and lowering his hips carelessly as he plunged your head deeper to get deeper. He delighted in your moans and choked sounds trying not to drown you out, or let out tears at how full your mouth felt. Your nose gently brushed against his pubic hair, just as blond as everything else on him; it made you drunk, it made you wetter and wetter.

"Mhm!" you moaned, your mouth being fucked by Leon's desperation and excitement over and over again. Each time he moaned and rammed more sloppily and hearing you squeal low was enough to make him want to push you away so he could finish the job of masturbating himself. Yet you denied, sucking on his veins, cupping his glans on your cheek, doing a thousand and one things with his juicy cock that you had fantasized nights and nights about sucking while you masturbated without any qualms. You felt him stiffen and curse and before you knew it you were having Leon's seed in your throat. It was hot, thick, plentiful; it filled your mouth and escaped from the corner of your lips and you commanded it so well that the blond felt like he was going to pass out, letting out an errant spasm. You swallowed it all with pride, pride that came from having made that hot blond -which caused all your friends to ask you for his phone number-, have probably the biggest orgasm of his life just from your mouth. He even tried to speak, but the words didn't come out coherently, apologizing to you for cumming so fast, thanking you for sucking him so well. "Shh... it's okay, babe" you stroked his cheek and wiped the corner of your lips. Leon avoided looking at you so he wouldn't get hard again.

With your help he adjusted his pants and before he could speak again you were kissing, now with sweetness and curiosity. Both of you exploring each other for the first time, him feeling his own taste in your mouth and you feeling his mouth so warm and wet. "I..." he sighed as they pulled away for air, leaving a wet kiss on your neck "I promise to return the favor, I really do" he spoke as best he could and you laughed. His hands squeezed and pampered your body as if it was the last time he was going to touch you. You stroked his hair and he settled into your chest, inhaling that sweet scent you gave off.

"I'll take your word for it, Kennedy."

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 10: "The Weight of Grief"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 5.4k

a/n: This one is quite heavy on the angst. Also--if you haven't realized already, the timeline and events of this series aren't exactly canon. Just for clarification. I split this installment into two parts so the next one is actually going to be titled "Last to Know." Feedback is always appreciated! And I have not published this to AO3 with whatever is going on, but I will whenever things have calmed down over there. I just didn't want to leave everyone hanging when I had updates ready!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine

“How about you let me take you out for dinner Saturday night?”

Shouldering your phone against your ear, you continued to distractedly chop vegetables for the late dinner you were making in your kitchen. A smile made its way onto your lips at the prospect of a third date already.

“How bold of you, Adam,” you teased. “Three Saturday nights in a row? A girl might think you like her.”

“Maybe I want the girl to think I like her,” he teased back.

Pausing your chopping, you set the knife down on the cutting board before wiping your hands on the towel next to it. Grabbing your phone from your shoulder, you turned and rested your back against the countertop. Chewing your lip, you felt a faint blush rise to your cheeks.

You’d met Adam through a speed dating event that Karen had dragged you along with her to. That had been about a month ago now. You’d thought the whole idea was terrible and you’d made her promise not to say anything to Foggy or Matt, not wanting either of them to judge you for going. You figured it would make you sound desperate because you were sure Karen wasn’t really having trouble in the dating department. It was clearly a ploy to get you to go in the hopes of finding someone instead of Matt to think about.

And you and Karen had considered the experience successful because you’d instantly clicked with Adam that night. From the moment he sat down at your table and smiled at you, you’d been hooked. He was a veterinary technician with a big heart and a love of animals, something that had immediately won you over with him. He was cute, too. And funny. And he seemed like he was close with his family. With Adam, you found you weren’t actively trying to forget about Matt and push him out of your thoughts. Something that had you instantly drawn to him because no one else had ever accomplished that since you'd met Matt back at Columbia. 

And ever since Matt and Elektra had surprised you at your apartment a few months ago, you'd tried hard to let your feelings for him go. There would never be anything more between you and him, you knew that now. So now you were doing your best to focus on just letting Matt be your friend, especially while you tried to adjust to the new knowledge about his heightened senses and him being the masked man running around the streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night performing heroics. Though now he’d recently become known as Daredevil in the news ever since he'd gotten that protective new suit made for him. And you were glad he had because you'd worried a lot less about his well-being; he was visibly sporting less injuries at least.

But you didn't spend as much time with Matt as you used to, even if you had stopped actively avoiding him. He was often busy with his vigilante endeavors, and it just felt weird and uncomfortable being around him knowing he knew you had feelings for him that he didn't return. And from your knowledge, he had spent the past few months helping Elektra with something. You were certain they were back together again even if you'd never asked and had it confirmed. You didn't want to even think about it.

And as for what he was helping her with–you didn't ask about that either. You weren't as in the know about what was going on as Foggy and Karen seemed to be, and frankly you didn't want to be. Despite having come to accept Matt's secret alter ego, you didn't want to know about anything that involved Elektra. So whenever the topic of her came up, you usually asked about the bare minimum and found a way to quickly exit the conversation–especially when you’d later overheard that Elektra had died, but also apparently had been resurrected from the dead. Which had confused you too much to want to try to understand.

"Well I am free Saturday night," you answered Adam. 

"Should we try that new Italian restaurant?" he asked over the line. "You were talking about craving pasta earlier this week."

The smile on your lips grew wider. You'd told him that offhandedly on the phone three nights ago and apparently he'd remembered. 

"I would like that," you told him. "I'm–"

A few knocks on your apartment door interrupted you, your attention shifting to it across the room. A frown settled on your mouth. It was after seven on a Thursday night, who would be stopping by? You hadn't been expecting company. 

"Hey, Adam, someone's apparently at my door," you told him. "Mind if we finalize the details tomorrow?"

"Not at all," he told you, the smile apparent in his chipper tone. "I'll call you in the evening? After work?"

"That sounds great," you told him.

You exchanged goodbyes before hanging up, setting your phone onto your kitchen counter. Eyeing your door curiously, you made your way across your apartment towards it. It took you a few moments to unlock the door, unlatching the deadbolt before pulling it open.

Your eyebrows rose up high onto your forehead at the unexpected sight of Foggy and Karen standing there. Both of them had red, puffy eyes that were glistening with tears on their sullen faces. Heart beating harder in your chest, your hand tightened around the doorknob you were still holding. Whatever had brought them here couldn't be good, not with the way Foggy’s lips were suddenly trembling as he opened his mouth, clearly struggling to form a sentence. 

And that's when you knew what this visit had to be about. You'd felt the rumble and shaking earlier tonight when you'd been grabbing food at the store on your way home from work. Everyone had been saying it had been an earthquake at the time, but you'd later heard something about a building collapsing nearby in Hell’s Kitchen.

Something must have happened to Matt. There was no other reason for both of them to be standing there looking at you like they were. Not in the state they were in.

Tears immediately stung at your eyes, a feeling of dread washing over you as your gaze danced between the pair of them before you. It felt like your throat was closing up, making it almost impossible for you to swallow. Shaking your head, you felt the first tears fall. 

"No," you said, voice breaking on the word. "No, don't tell me he got hurt."

A choked sob fell out of Karen instantly, your heart feeling like someone had crushed it in their fist at the sound. One of her hands rose up to cover her mouth as she turned away, unable to look at you. Beside her, Foggy sent you an apologetic smile when your eyes met his, but he couldn’t hide the tears present and ready to spill over. 

"There was an–an accident," Foggy said softly. "Matt he was–was out helping those others like him. The ones we'd told you a bit about. They were over at Midland Circle." He paused, exhaling a shuddering breath. "Trying to destroy that Hand group. And they–they blew up the building."

Both of your hands flew to your face at the tremble in Foggy’s voice and the implication of his words. You felt like you were going to be sick.

"No," you repeated, shaking your head more firmly. "No, no he's okay. Tell me he's okay, Foggy!" you shouted.

Foggy said your name softly, stepping into your apartment slowly with his hands raised placatingly as if he was approaching a wild animal. A painful grimace was on his face as he approached you and you took a step back, still shaking your head as more tears streamed down your cheeks.

"He didn't make it out," he whispered. 

"No," you growled through clenched teeth. "No, don't you tell me that! Don’t you fucking tell me that, Foggy!"

"The others said he stayed behind," Foggy continued gently. "Trying to save Elektra."

It felt like you’d been barreled over by a city bus at his words. Matt had stayed behind…to save Elektra? He died for her? The heartless woman who’d only toyed with him? The woman who didn’t even know the beautiful, fragile heart she held in the palm of her hands? Who’d never truly loved him, abandoning him back at Columbia with a shattered heart? The very same heart you’d spent months trying to help him piece back together just for him to give it back to her years later to permanently destroy?

He died for her?

You collapsed to your knees, hot tears steadily pouring down your cheeks. It wasn’t until Foggy was kneeling on the floor before you, his hands gingerly grasping your shoulders and drawing you towards him, that you realized you were screaming. You fought Foggy’s attempts to soothe you, struggling against him as he tried to hold you still. The entire time you heard him repeatedly croaking out ‘I know, I know’ over and over, emotion thick in his own voice. 

“He’s not dead!” you wailed, still thrashing against Foggy. “He’s not dead! Matt’s not dead!!”

“Hey, hey,” Karen said gently, her voice breaking as she kneeled down beside you and Foggy on the floor. “I–I know it’s hard to hear,” she whispered, “but Matt he–he didn’t make it. They–they said they saw him stay behind.”

“Well maybe he made it out!” you cried hysterically, sniffling loudly as the tears didn’t stop falling. “They’re wrong! It’s–it’s Matt we’re talking about, guys! He’s–he’s like a goddamn superhero! He isn’t dead! He can’t be!”

There was no way you would believe Matt was gone. That his smiling face wouldn't still greet you if you headed over to his apartment right now. That he wouldn't be calling you tomorrow night to see if you wanted to grab drinks with him, Foggy, and Karen at Josie’s. That he wouldn’t be making one of his stupid blind jokes to you over a few beers.

He wasn't dead. You'd have known if he was. Felt it somehow.

Matt wasn’t dead.

You shook your head, pulling away out of Foggy’s embrace and roughly wiping the backs of your hands against your tear stained cheeks. Sniffling loudly again, you ignored the pitying looks on their faces.

“Was there a body?” you asked, trying to calm down.

“What?” Foggy asked you.

“Was there a body?” you repeated, forcefully enunciating each word.

“No, not yet,” he answered. “But they just started trying to sort through the rubble. The emergency responders said it could take days for them to sort through the mess.” Foggy’s frown deepened as he said your name again. “It doesn’t sound like he made it.”

“No,” you said firmly, rising back up to your feet and wiping at your eyes again. “I’m not believing it until there’s a body. He’s alive, I know he is.”

Karen sent you a sad smile, tears still falling down her own cheeks. “Okay,” she said softly with a nod. “Let’s give it a few days. Maybe–maybe they were wrong.”

You were kneeling, bent over the pew before you with your forehead resting against your clasped hands. You'd lost track of the time a while ago, unsure how long you'd been here. But your back was now stiff from however long you'd remained stationary in prayer, your knees aching. 

Praying wasn't something you did. You'd never been the religious type, though lately you'd often found yourself seeking solace at Clinton Church. Because it was Matt's church, the place where he told you he grew up going to. The place he had told you he frequented for advice from Father Lantom–who you'd met now with all the time you'd been spending here since Matt had gone missing. The orphanage he grew up in was just next door to this church, too. 

Coming here in the recent days since Matt had disappeared had always made you feel closer to him for some unexplainable reason. Like you could just feel him here in the walls of the church somehow. It was comforting to you, the only comfort you’d come to find over the past couple of weeks.

Despite the fact that everyone had told you he'd been in the building when it collapsed, and that he'd been missing for over two weeks, and the fact that you'd gone to a memorial service for him at this very church just a few days ago, you still absolutely refused to believe Matt was dead. There had never been a body found among the wreckage of Midland Circle–for him or Elektra. Which only cemented it in your mind that he was out there alive somewhere. 

But your friends were not of the same mind. They’d tried to grieve him at his memorial service, and they’d spent many conversations already trying to convince you that the facts all pointed to Matt having passed in the building’s collapse. Foggy had even asked you to explain why Matt wouldn't have reached out to let any of you know he was alive if he really had made it out of the building. All you could think was that he was lying horribly injured somewhere and unable to reach out. That had to be what was going on. 

Because Matt Murdock wasn't dead. He just wasn't. You didn't care that Foggy looked at you now with a different and more infuriating sympathetic look on his face whenever he saw you, one that wasn't just because you were in love with Matt and he didn’t return those feelings. He thought you were in denial and delusional now, unable to accept reality. 

Maybe you were, but you weren’t going to accept his death without proof of a body.

You heard movement nearby as someone came and sat down in the pew beside where you were kneeling. Almost immediately you recognized the scent of incense and smoke and you already knew who’d taken a seat–Father Lantom. Over the past few days he’d been stopping to chat with you, having recognized you from Matt’s memorial service and realizing you’d been showing up often. 

With a sigh you lifted your head, turning and glancing at Father Lantom in the pew. He was smiling at you, the expression somehow reassuring and comforting just like the church itself. Pushing yourself away from the kneeler, you settled into the pew beside him, your focus on your hands in your lap.

“You’re back again today,” Father Lantom observed.

“I come every day after work,” you muttered.

“You do,” he agreed lightly. “And how’re you feeling today?”

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap. “Furious,” you answered, eyes still focused on your hands. “I’m still angry. Probably more angry than anything lately.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Father Lantom nod. He shifted in the pew, turning to face you more fully.

“Anger is a common reaction when a loved one is taken from us,” he told you. “Especially when the loss is so unexpected.”

Your head darted up, your eyes brimming with tears as you focused on the priest beside you. “He’s not dead,” you stated, shaking your head firmly. “I told you that. He’s not dead.”

Something flickered across Father Lantom’s face briefly before his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression becoming something neutral. He nodded his head just once. 

“So much like Matthew yourself,” he mused. “He was always stubborn. Ever since he was a boy, really. When he had an idea in his head you couldn’t shake it from him for anything.”

A tear slipped out of your eye, your hand darting up to quickly wipe it away as your focus shifted to the large crucifix at the front of the church. It was the one thing you didn’t like about Clinton Church–the way Christ was always staring back at you from within the sanctuary, battered and bleeding on the cross. It felt too much like Matt.

“I miss him,” you whispered, eyes falling back down to your hands in your lap. 

I still love him.

“Well,” Father Lantom began slowly, “the most we can do for those we’ve lost–however it is that we’ve lost them–is to keep on living. I believe Matthew would want that for you. To keep living your life. To move forward.”

“I feel like all I’ve done is move backwards,” you admitted quietly, your fingers twisting around each other now. “I barely sleep. I can’t focus at work. I broke things off with the guy I was seeing not too long ago because I just can’t–can’t pretend everything is okay. Because it’s not, nothing is.”

Father Lantom sighed loudly, shifting in the pew beside you to clasp his own hands in his lap. His mouth opened as if he was about to speak, but you saw his focus shift towards a nun, your own eyes following the movement. She looked quite stern as she eyed the priest beside you, almost like she was trying to tell him something with her eyes, but when her attention turned to you her expression softened. You swore she offered you a smile before you ducked your head, tears once again threatening to fall. 

You abruptly rose to your feet, the threat of tears urging you to seek the solitude of your apartment before you broke down publicly in the church. That was usually your cue to leave.

“Going already?” Father Lantom asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, turning away from him and making your way towards the other end of the pew. “I’m sure I’ll be back tomorrow, though. And the next day.”

Matt’s hand tentatively reached out, fingers brushing over the cool stone of the statue. He could feel the grainy texture of it under the pads of his fingers. Each and every little divot in the stone. His sense of touch hadn’t really been affected by the collapse of Midland Circle, not quite, but what a shitty and useless sense to have retained. All it did was make him further aware of how uncomfortable the cheap cotton clothes he was wearing felt on his skin, and how scratchy the little bed he attempted to sleep in every night felt underneath him. It only brought him further discomfort and pain to match his injuries.

His hearing hadn’t fully come back to him, either; it was often touch and go. Sometimes he’d hear a ringing in one or both of his ears if it didn’t sound like he was underwater. He also hadn’t regained his heightened sense of taste–didn’t matter what food Sister Maggie brought him, it all tasted like blood and ash. And his sense of smell was basically nonexistent. He hadn’t been able to smell a damn thing besides smoke since he’d woken up in the undercroft of Clinton Church. He was utterly and pathetically useless without his senses. Just plodding around clumsily with a cane and tripping over his own goddamn feet in the church’s basement.

Yet for some reason, he still found himself trying. Which is what he’d been up out of his bed trying to do now as he attempted to map out the space he was in. He had no idea what time of day it was–it’s not like he could hear much besides the room he was in to even gauge time–and he was becoming stir crazy trapped in this church basement trying to heal. So he’d been up the past few minutes wandering around, his cane left hanging off one of the statues somewhere in the room. He honestly didn’t even know where, which wouldn’t have been the case if he’d been back to his normal self. Something that only further pissed him off.

Matt took a handful of careful steps forward, focusing intensely on where he was going. But as he took one more step, his foot hit something solid and he lost his balance. He fell to the floor, his hands flying out to try to brace himself for the impact, but he’d cut his palm on the corner of something sharp before he landed roughly on his side. He groaned out, his eyes closing as he curled into a ball.

He wished he’d have died in that goddamn building. 

But that wasn’t quite true. What he’d really wished was that Elektra hadn’t been so dead set on getting her hands on what the Hand had been after. That she hadn’t become the Hand’s puppet when they’d resurrected her as the Black Sky. If she’d have just listened to him he wouldn’t have stayed behind. He wouldn’t have felt the need to try to save her. Because despite the hurt she’d put him through, despite the way she’d broken his heart those years ago, he couldn’t just leave her to die. That wasn’t him. But ever since he’d woken up after he’d been dragged out of that wreckage, he’d hated her for having made him make that choice. For not just leaving with him and everyone else. For choosing to die trying to get what she wanted, and in true Elektra fashion, dragging him down with her.

But it wasn’t Elektra he’d been thinking about when the building had collapsed and he knew he was about to die.

It was you.

Every moment he’d ever had with you felt like it raced through his mind in a matter of seconds. The first time he’d stumbled on you on campus, when you'd stopped to help that stranger pick up their spilled belongings and you’d been so unbelievably kind. All that time he’d spent searching Columbia's campus for a sign of you afterwards. The unexplainable excitement when he’d accidentally ran into you at the library and finally got your name and your phone number. And every good memory he had of you ever since then; all of those Saturday nights he’d spent with you and Foggy, and the times he got you all to himself when Foggy had inevitably passed out early in his bed. Every conversation at meal times in the dining hall. He recalled graduation night when he’d almost kissed you, almost told you he loved you–and he regretted it so much right now that he’d never just said it back then. 

He recalled every moment with you that he could–every single one of them. Because he wanted you to be his dying thought.

As the building fell around him, Elektra had been shouting something at him, trying to rile him up one last time, but he hadn’t been paying attention to her because he’d been trying to remember the way it felt when he held you in his arms. You’d always fit so perfectly against him. He’d tried his hardest to recall the scent of your shampoo–something faintly floral and sweet, but never overpowering–and the softness of your hair the times he’d been bold enough to press his nose into it. You almost always buried your face into his left shoulder when he embraced you, a small random detail, but one he always remembered nevertheless. Your arms always wrapped around him so hesitant at first, but then you’d almost melt into him for a moment, expelling the softest little sigh that he always wondered about, even then in that moment. 

And that’s what Matt believed would be his last thought. The memory of that soft, contented sigh that always confused him whenever you hugged him.

Except it wasn’t his last thought because he hadn’t died in the explosion. He’d somehow been spared. Saved. But all he could think about since he had woken without his senses was how absurd that was considering God had clearly turned his back on him. He’d been spared for what? What was the point of him without his heightened senses that he’d always thought God had bestowed on him?

So he’d decided to let Matt Murdock die at Midland Circle. He figured he would finally listen to Stick–he’d cut out the people in his life he cared about who cared about him in order to keep them safe. Foggy, Karen, and you.

You were all safer without him. Safer thinking he was dead and gone.

And then he would just be Daredevil. Nothing left to live for, nothing left to lose.

Matt heard the faint, muddled sound of footsteps hitting his ears as someone descended the church’s basement steps. The sound pulled him from his bleak thoughts. Gradually he pushed himself upright, leaning against the stone of whatever it was he’d tripped over. He wasn’t surprised when he heard Sister Maggie’s voice speak a moment later. It was only ever her or Father Lantom that checked on him down here to begin with.

“What on earth are you doing on the floor?” Sister Maggie asked.

Matt huffed out a frustrated breath from his place on the hard floor. He could hear Maggie’s footsteps approaching him and he tried to focus on them, attempting to lock on to her movement in the room.

“Falling, apparently,” he muttered bitterly.

He heard the way Sister Maggie sighed, the noise coming from nearby. He realized she’d lowered to sit on the floor next to him a few seconds later when he registered her body temperature near his right side.

“I brought you something,” she told him.

“I’m guessing food?” he asked flatly. “Not like I can smell anything still. Everything tastes the same too–like blood and ash.”

Matt felt Sister Maggie press something into his hand. It was long and cylindrical. Wrapped in something like a wax paper wrapping. 

“It’s a sandwich from the deli nearby,” she said. “Thought you might enjoy it more than the soup Sister Ethel made tonight for the children.”

Matt’s fingers ran over the paper wrapper for a moment, trying to ignore the stirring in his chest at the kind gesture from Sister Maggie.

“Thank you,” Matt murmured.

He heard her unscrew the cap of something next. It sounded like a pill bottle; the sound of a few pills rattled out of it and into her hand.

“Brought you water, too,” she continued. “And you need to keep taking these.”

Matt held out a hand expectantly, waiting for her to drop the two pills into his upturned palm as she came down here to do every few hours. When she did, he quickly tossed them into his mouth. Holding out his hand again, Sister Maggie handed him an opened bottle of water. He drank down the pills, frowning as he swallowed and stared blankly ahead. 

“How’s the hearing?” she asked.

Matt made a face, the fingers of his left hand absently fiddling with the sandwich wrapper again. “Still can’t hear for shit,” he replied.

“Well your body took quite a beating,” she told him. “Everything’s swollen. Maybe your hearing will come back when it goes down.” There was a brief pause before she added, “Or maybe it’ll come back when you finally take your head out of your ass.”

A sharp, bitter laugh fell out of Matt at her words. He hadn’t been expecting that, but she'd been full of crass and unexpected comments like that since he'd woken here. 

Humorless laughter subsiding quickly, a heavy silence fell around the pair of them. Matt didn't need his extra senses to know there was more she wanted to say. And he had a feeling he knew what it would be, too.

"What?" he asked. 

He briefly registered the sound of Sister Maggie’s shoes lightly tapping along the cement floor, almost like a nervous fidget. Matt's frown only deepened as he waited in silence. 

"She was back again this evening," she eventually said.

Matt's eyelids slowly lowered, his heart feeling like it sank to the floor beside him. She didn't have to even say your name, he knew she meant you. Father Lantom had told him he'd seen you every day here for over a week now. Always bent over a pew in prayer–which was odd because he knew you weren't religious and you weren’t a parishioner at Clinton Church.

"Who is she?" Sister Maggie asked curiously. "She comes here everyday grieving over you. I saw her at your memorial service with those friends of yours that you refuse to call friends.”

“Just someone who used to be a friend, too,” Matt mumbled morosely.

“Seems like more than a friend with how often she frequents this church because of you,” Sister Maggie replied. “Paul seems to think so, too.”

Matt’s head darted towards her at her words, his brows furrowing. “Father Lantom has spoken with her?” he asked. “He’s never told me that.”

“Mmm, oh yes,” Maggie answered. “Often. She comes around the same time every evening. Just after work. Always praying silently in the same pew. Paul says she doesn’t believe you’ve actually died.”

Matt’s brows drew together even further on his forehead, his mouth going dry. “What?” he breathed out.

“She refuses to believe you're dead without a body,” Sister Maggie explained. “And she’d be right, because you aren’t dead. But you are stubborn as hell, though. Tormenting your friends like this. Letting them think you’re dead and forcing them to mourn the loss of you. Letting that poor young woman up there put her life on hold–”

“She’s not putting her life on hold,” Matt cut her off sharply. “She’ll move on soon enough.”

Sister Maggie drew in a deep breath, silence once again falling between the pair of them. Matt’s attention shifted back to the space in front of him. His fingers were still absently fiddling with the sandwich wrapper.

Why were you coming here every day praying for him though? Refusing to believe he’d died? Why not just mourn with Foggy and Karen and move on already? Just forget about him. He wasn’t any good for you anyway. You deserved a better friend, one who wasn’t in love with you and keeping your secret from Foggy just because he was selfish.

“Was she more than your friend, Matthew?”

The question broke through his thoughts, Matt’s face scrunching together in confusion at the unexpectedness of it. Why would she even ask that?

“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “She’s just a friend. From Columbia.”

“Hmm,” Sister Maggie hummed curiously. “But you love her, don’t you?”

Matt’s teeth grit together, his jaw clenching in frustration at that question. He had been trying his best to ignore those feelings. And also–how the hell could she possibly know that?

“You flinch everytime Paul or I say her name,” she clarified. “Every time we tell you she’s been by the church crying again. It hurts you that she’s hurting. I can see it plain on your face, Matthew. It’s killing you.”

“She’s not safe being around me,” Matt ground out.

Sister Maggie scoffed loudly. “That’s bullshit and self-pity talking,” she shot back. “Clearly the woman loves you, too. Why keep up the lie? Why keep hurting her?”

Matt shook his head, his fist tightening around the bottle of water in his right hand. “She’s in love with our mutual best friend. She’s told me that already,” he gritted out. “And she’ll move on from the loss of me.”

He heard the frustrated sigh come from the nun beside him, vaguely aware of her rising back up to her feet. For some reason the thought of her leaving him alone again down here had him grinding his teeth harder together. He didn’t want to be alone. But it was better if he learned to live like that.

“I think you’re being foolish and stupid,” Sister Maggie stated bluntly. “Causing undue harm to those you love most–and it's only going to backfire on you. And if you really think that young woman repeatedly coming here doesn’t have feelings for you, you’re more foolish than I ever thought.”

Sister Maggie’s steps slowly grew fainter and fainter until he could no longer hear them anymore. His focus shifted down to the sandwich in his lap that she’d brought him, his fingers carefully tearing the paper open.

She didn’t know what she was talking about, he thought angrily to himself. Sister Maggie couldn’t possibly understand the decisions he’d made or why you kept coming to Clinton Church. He’d been one of your best friends–a shitty one, truthfully–and you were grieving. That was all.

[vidavalor]

Why does Crowley in season 2 have sideburns and Crowley in season 1 doesn't?🤔🐍

Because he's actually Elvis in S2. It's a theory I've been keeping to myself for awhile now because I was worried people might think I'd lost it but I feel comfortable enough now with all of you to share that I'm 150% sure that this will be revealed midway through 3.04, when Gabriel will return to tell Aziraphale that he forgot to mention it before he left for Alpha Centauri but he's had the real Crowley in a magical cell in Heaven since the end of S1. The one Aziraphale's been sleeping with since then is actually The King in disguise. (Elvis is supernatural so he can shapeshift, obviously, in case you were worried that I didn't think that bit through.)

Upon learning this, Aziraphale will pause, consider, then smirk and wiggle a little bit while making a dirty joke that involves the phrase "burning love", and then politely ask for his actual Crowley back. When Gabriel shrugs and says it's not his department because he doesn't work there anymore, Aziraphale's flaming sword will appear in his hand to match his rage. He'll slay Gabriel like Adam did the lion outside of Eden (because parallels, you guys...). The King-- who really didn't want to be a part of this and doesn't want to go on together with suspicious minds with anyone anymore-- chooses redemption, whips out his lethal banana (you gutter brains, it's an actual fucking banana...) and goes with Aziraphale to storm Heaven to rescue Crowley. David Tennant's really going to be stretched thin playing two characters at the same time in S3 atop all the flashbacks but we know he can make it work.

When they finally get through Michael (this takes about 40 seconds), our scrappy gang of Az, Elvis, a pair of ragtime singer ghosts played by Nina Sosanya and Maggie Service, and Crowley's two most emotionally damaged plants find the real Crowley curled up in the fetal position singing "All Shook Up" to himself (he and Elvis are permanently psychically linked now but don't worry, it's not a big deal, just a callback to the fly) and the dramatic score swells as Aziraphale rushes over and finally lays one on the real Crowley.

Aziraphale then recaps S2 to the real Crowley, who just stares. The only thing he reacts to is learning that Elvis snogged his girl. In a fit of rage, he has the Maggie and Nina ragtime ghosts (who are also angels, it's complicated) make him holy water and then hurls it at the demonic King of Rock 'n Roll, who lives long enough to sing: "Lord, Almighty, I feel my temperature risin'" before being eviscerated.

We might expect Frances McDormand to return here for this but she doesn't. We will be left wondering why The Voice of God didn't even show up to respond to the dying King and what that meant.

Except remember when I said that Crowley and Elvis were psychically linked?! Yeah. Crowley starts to die and Aziraphale sobs because, really, this was all very avoidable. This is when we all get wibbly because "A Nightingale Sings in Berkeley Square" covered by AI replicating the voice of Elvis plays as Crowley begins to draw the last breath he doesn't need to take. He dies. We're all sobbing. But it's okay because, as the final credits roll, Lord Beezlebub then appears, looks at the ridiculous mess in front of them, just says "this is so dumb", and then zaps Crowley back to life.

I don't know about you all but that really seems the most logical explanation to me. Especially since the alternative is just: "because he felt like it."

[daydreamingyuta]

Baking Christmas Cookies | Mark Lee

summary: fluff, boyfriend!mark surprises you by planning a baking Christmas cookies date wc: 1,351

Spending your first December with Mark as your boyfriend was already better than you could have imagined. On December 1st he surprised you with an advent calendar he made for you. You felt like a little kid again because as soon as you woke up, you couldn't wait to see the little present Mark has gifted you today.

You hop out of bed and throw on your fuzzy socks to keep you warm before you go downstairs into the kitchen. You make eye contact with the advent calendar that's sitting on your kitchen table, begging to be opened. You resist though, deciding to make some coffee first.

Your coffee machine whirs as it pours into your mug. You add your creamer and sugar and just as you're about to take your first sip, you hear your phone ding. You pick it up from the counter and see that it's from Mark.

Mark: Good morning :) did you open day five yet? Y/n: I'm just about to!

As soon as you hit send, you head over to the calendar. Mark is clearly excited for you to see what's inside, so you knew it had to be something good. It takes you a minute to find day five, as all the days are jumbled and out of order. You finally find it though and notice that it's the smallest box out of the whole calendar.

You wonder what could possibly be in the tiny box, and are only left more confused when you do open it. All that's in there is a piece of paper folded up about ten times. You unravel it, expecting a note to be written on it and you were correct.

"We're baking Christmas cookies today ♡"

Your heart jumps at the idea of baking with Mark, an activity you have yet to do with him. You immediately grab your phone and text Mark about how excited you are.

Y/n: There's nobody I would rather bake Christmas cookies with Mark! Mark: 🥹 samee

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Hours go by as you two both complete your tasks for the day, the thought of baking getting you through your work. Mark had informed you that he already had all the ingredients ready so all you had to do was come over to his place.

You were ecstatic about all the things Mark has been doing for you recently, but a part of you couldn't help but feel slightly bad. Since the advent calendar gift was a surprise, you didn't make him one. It felt wrong that he was showering you with gifts, while he won't get any until the 25th.

You decided to solve this issue by going into the store real quick before you left for his house. This last minute gift wasn't going to be extravagant or anything, but at least he would have something fun to open tonight.

You scoured the department store, Christmas music blaring in the background, until you spotted the perfect gift. Even though you had never baked with Mark before, you knew him well enough to know that he was more than likely going to end up spilling flour all over himself. So, the forest green apron with hand-stitched poinsettias all over was what you were going to get him.

Luckily, you had given yourself enough time to go home and wrap the gift before you actually have to leave.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

As the sun was starting to set, it was getting progressively colder out. You dressed yourself in a red off-the-shoulder sweater and a cream skirt with tights to keep you warm. You would usually just bake in your pajamas, but dressing up for Mark was always so much fun, especially since his compliments were always so sweet and left you with the biggest, goofiest smile on your face. Plus, Mark happened to really love this sweater on you, considering how he reacted the last time you wore it.

You hide Mark's gift behind you, as you knock on his front door. Almost like Mark was already waiting right by the door, he opened up right away. He was about to bring you into a hug, but then takes a step back as he notices your cute little outfit. He tilts his head at you and gives you his little smirk. "C'mon..."

"Do I look nice?"

He takes a step closer to you and cups your face into his hands. "Honestly, y/n. I have never in my entire life seen someone as beautiful as you." He squishes your cheeks and gives you a quick kiss to show just how much he adores you.

He un-squishes your cheeks and pulls you into a hug, rocking you back and forth like he always does. His eyes must have been closed because he hadn't noticed his present until he pulled away from the hug and you pulled it out. "For you."

"babyyy, I'm supposed to be the one spoiling you with gifts."

"We can both spoil each other." You say, leaning in and offering him an invitation to give you a kiss. Of course he happily takes the offer, pulling you in by your waist to get you closer.

Mark had suggested opening his present after you baked cookies, but since the gift was going to be perfect to wear while you were baking, you convinced him to open it now.

Mark tore into the present, revealing two Christmas aprons. He immediately puts it on and poses for you so you can judge how it looks and, of course, he looks adorable. "You're so cutee Mark."

"This is perfect for today! You got yourself one?" Mark say, pointing at the second one.

You nod your head and Mark helps you put it on. You grab the string so you can tie it around your waist, but Mark moves your hands away, wanting to do it for you.

Once you're all set, you finally start the activity you've both been looking forward to all day. Mark had already put out all the ingredients as well as put on the Christmas music, so you got started right away.

You two mixed all the ingredients together, following the recipe closely, wanting the cookies to turn out perfect. Just as you had expected, Mark had managed to spill some flour all over him, making a mess of the apron.

"Thankfully, I have the most amazing girlfriend who got me this apron so I didn't make a total mess."

"You're a lucky man, Mark Lee." You say, playing along.

"I really am y/n." Mark says, serious all of a sudden. "Like actually I am the luckiest guy in the world to have you."

Your heart melts because you know he means every word. You feel yourself start to tear up, so you bring your attention back to making the cookies. Never has anyone made you feel more loved and more special than Mark does.

Feelings of unworthiness cross your mind, but you quickly shut them down knowing that those thoughts would be heartbreaking to Mark if he ever found out.

Instead, you coat your fingertips with leftover flour and flick it at Mark for making you emotional.

"Woww. Here I am like pouring out my heart to you and this is how you act?"

"Because you're gonna make me cry!" You laugh, now feeling slightly back for flicking flour at him. You go to wipe off his face, but you use the hand with flour still on it and end up smearing more onto him. "I'm making it worse." You say, laughing harder.

"You're doing it on purpose." He says, wrapping his arms around your waist as he takes a few steps backwards. You lift your sleeve up to his face to fully get the flour off. "All clean?"

You nod your head and Mark pulls you into a kiss. You melt into him, your heart so full it feels like it could burst. "You know, some hot chocolate would go perfect with our cookies."

"Then we have to stop getting distracted and actually make the cookies." You say, not moving from his grasp.

"but you're my favorite distraction, baby."

[cbrownjc]

Hey :) just saw your post with your speculation about how much Eric/Daniel will be in S3. And while this isn't a definitive answer or anything, Rolin did address the question of whether or not Daniel would still play a part in the story post-s2 in this interview for the A.V. Club: https://www.avclub.com/rolin-jones-interview-with-the-vampire-season-2-finale-1851566667

I kinda feel like this means we'll see him more than just in a couple of scenes here and there, even in S3 (though he didn't specifically say "in season 3". But I feel like "still" implies this?)

Only it's difficult to judge because any present-day storyline they do with him is a big question mark since they seem to have departed from books (where he only gets turned shortly before the concert and does not part from Armand). What Armand is up to in the present-day is also a question mark imo. At least until the story converges at the concert.

I mean, I'll be real I'm also just trying to convince myself he'll be in it more because I'll miss him otherwise 🥲

Hi!

So, first I want to say that I think the two major pieces of casting that still need to be done are obviously Gabrielle and Marius. And I've long speculated that Marius is already playing a huge part in Daniel's story because I really do believe that Marius was the one to erase Daniel's memories of his past relationship with Armand.

Yes, Marius plays an important role in Lestat's life, but he plays an even bigger one in Armand and Daniel's as well, especially going by the books. In the books, Daniel lived with Marius for almost 30 years -- first healing from his mental issues, and then as companions -- before getting back together with Armand during the Prince Lestat era. All that, plus given what Rolin Jones already said about Raglan James, I don't think Justin Kirk is secretly playing Marius. So Marius still needs to be cast, and I very much expect him to be deeply involved in Armand and Daniel's storyline, going forward.

I just don't see that happening much in Season 3, however.

Because Season 3 is Lestat's story and focus, primarily. Just like Season 1 and Season 2 were mainly focused on Louis.

There is really only one episode in those two seasons where you can say Daniel was focused on -- outside of just interviewing Louis -- and that was episode 2x05. And even then, Louis factored heavily in that episode as well.

Armand and Marius play major roles in Lestat's story. Daniel doesn't. So if Daniel has any type of major storyline in Season 3, it will have to be with those two characters, IMO; as well as the Talamasca, since they were the ones to publish Daniel's book in the first place, and Rolin already said they and Raglan James will play an even bigger role in the show than they did in the books.

But without an episode count yet, I just can't see it being a huge focus. Mostly because characters like Marius still need to be fully set up and established. Also, I already think Armand is being set up to be a false Big Bad in Season 3 (since he's pretty much a villain in The Vampire Lestat), so I think whatever of Armand's POV that we get in Season 3, in the present day, will be very limited too, IMO, if we get it like we did in episode 2x03.

And yet, IMO, the only way we are looking at getting another episode like 2x05 in Season 3 is if it's told from Armand's POV. Because, again, Armand actually ties into Lestat's story, both in the past and in the present. And I think for sure that whatever Armand is up to in the present will have something to do with Daniel, as well as whatever else might be going on in the setup for Akasha rising.

Heck, if my theory is right that Marius was the one to wipe Daniel's memories of his and Armand's past relationship, Armand and Marius might have a present-day scene together, likely discussing Daniel (along with what Lestat is doing).

And yes, while Eric might still be in the top five for the call sheet going forward, that really doesn't say much IMO without knowing the Season 3 episode count. I mean, I'm sure Sam Reid was top 5 on the call sheet in Season 2, but if you look at his screen time in Episodes 2x01 and 2x02, it really wasn't much. And we didn't see him at all in episode 2x05, only heard his voice. And he didn't appear in episode 2x06 until the end.

I thought they found a way to work Lestat into the story of Season 2 very well, expanding on things from the book. But he still wasn't in the first few episodes very much.

And Daniel is even more different because he's not mentioned or referenced in The Vampire Lestat book at all.

So wrt Daniel in the present day, I'm tempering my expectations. Because yes, whatever is going on with Eric's Daniel in the present day is completely off-book. But, with every other facet of the story, the show has very much been on-book, in a rather strict way. Lestat's story is the main story of The Vampire Lestat and therefore will be for Season 3 IMO. And I think, whatever happens with Daniel in the present day is going to have to tie into that story. And that can't really happen via Daniel directly.

Louis' story is already being set up to tie into Lestat's present-day storyline directly, with his challenging all the vampires in the world to come for him if they dare. One of the reasons Lestat even became a rock star in the first place was to try and protect Louis by drawing attention to himself in an even bigger way than Louis' memoir drew attention to Louis.

But there are only two ways I see Daniel's story drawing directly to Lestat, and those are not in a way that directly has to do with Daniel. Because Lestat doesn't even know Daniel, has never met him before or interacted with him. (No I don't think they changed that from the book.)

So it's only through Armand, possibly Marius, and the Talamasca that Daniel ties into the larger story of what's going to be going on with Lestat in the present day. (Maybe a bit of Louis too, but the vampires we heard talking at the end didn't seem to be threatening Daniel, only Louis. Curious.) And, again, without an episode count yet, I just don't know how much time that focus can really get, especially when you have to set up Marius as a character; as well as probably having to set up the Talamasca even more as well; as well as maybe not revealing too soon what Armand is up to in the present day to keep his motives as mystery and have non-book readers wondering if Armand is the Big Bad villain they think he is or not.

And having to do all of this, plus laying preparation for adapting Queen of the Damned next. The book where Daniel actually does get a lot of focus.

And this also lines up with what Assad let slip about Season 4 being when we would see Armand's backstory. (Which is when QotD would start being adapted if TVL isn't split into 2 seasons like IWTV was).

And Rolin Jones flat out said people need to stop jumping ahead because Devil's Minion was "3 books ahead" of where they were now in adapting (which at the time was the 2nd half of the IWTV book), and to "slow down" about it.

So for now, I'm going to listen to RJ and just "slow down" about this.

So, in doing so, while I think we'll see Daniel in the present day in Season 3, I still don't think we'll see him much. And I think when we do, one of the episodes we'll get will probably be a stand-alone episode in the vein of episode 2x05 that focuses on what happened in the past. (Which I think will be an episode that focuses on why Daniel once woke up in a parking lot in Milwaukee not knowing how he got there). And I think for sure he'll be in the Season 3 finale. But other than that? 🤷🏾‍♀️ Again, I'm slowing down and tempering my expectations. Especially if we only get another 7-8 episode count again.

Because right now, for Season 3, Lestat's story is the main focus. Not Daniel, not Armand, and not Devil's Minion. And Daniel's character can only tie into Lestat's story via other people, which is rather limiting but can't be helped.

[vinestaffery]

I'm praying that uh.. I don't know if this is gonna be answered or not but anyways!! (I couldn't hit the button to mNe this ankn for a bit)

Medkit X GN!reader Head canons before the accident?

Also I pray that this is easy to understand.🔷

hihi!!! thank you for requesting!! i absolutely understood this [and i am in love with medkit] so, i hope these are good enough!!! <3 have a nice day :3 I also somewhat based this off of the vibe of Bay City, Plastic Love, etc songs!!

PRE-MEDKIT HEADCANONS

Warnings: brief mentions of bullying Other: I made this where Pre-Medkit and GN!Reader aren't in a relationship, but hopelessly inlove with eachother. They just struggle at confessing because I love this type of trope! I also based this off of my own Blackrock Headcanon where at the start of Highschool, you must pass various tests before being placed in departments that fit you suitable in society. There is also mentions of Grav and Warp <3.

When you were brand new to the school that Medkit was at, you were hopelessly crushing on him, even though you barely interacted. You both had unique features unlike the other scientists within the department, but you were studying a completely different medium then him.

Your actual first two friends was Grav and Warp, who were close friends to Medkit. The three of yous, excluding Medkit sadly, were always bickering. But, your mind would always drift to that strange boy with glasses and bright green horns! Sometimes, Grav and Warp would catch you daydreamin' or staring at him from afar, which would influence in slight teasing. They couldn't help it, you were so inlove with him like those iconic high-school lovers trope!

That was until Grav and Warp somehow, ironically, got you intentionally partners of research with him. Quickly to blame them, you and Medkit actually got along quite well! With how you both examined small details and examined the fine details in each artifact given. He was surprised on how much of a similar level of learning you both had, but it ended up with you getting targetted for his arroudous bullying.

Medkit was known around the school, especially for how he acts and how different he is. Especially his horns, and how they are drastically different to many other Blackrockian's. They were unique, stylized with curves and fascinating features that seemed to bring out of Medkit more. It was something you fell inlove with about him, but you'd never admit it truthfully to his face.

For Medkit, it was your eyes. He's seen many robloxians in his life-time, but your eyes just stood out. How they seemed to keep him captivated, it was one of the reasons he struggled because he didn't want to look like a weirdo. He'd zone out endlessly, forgetting all of his surroundings but be amazed but your looks and your eyes. It was something he loved about you, and one of the many reasons why sometimes, you'd catch him not replying but making heavy contact. It'd make him forget how to breathe! Of course, he'd get embarrassed each time you called him out... he'd just say he was zoning out or dissociating, thinking, whatever excuse he can use to save himself.

Medkit and You were basically two peas in a pod after your first assignment with him. But, because you both studied different mediums, you were separated into a different department after a while and he was placed with a whole new person. Agriculture was your one, while his one was robotics and certain, secret project. But, that never stopped your guys endless meet-ups. Your department and his were very strict, keeping everyrobloxian on their toes and to keep a look out, since the very best were the most to survive.

Picnics were occassional, sometimes even inviting Grav and Warp alone if possible. They also studied a different medium together, which was the environmental setting, but their department was hated for it's easiness and lack of 'strong' competitors. It didn't bug Grav and Warp since they seemed to have already aced everything. Medkit and you, on the other hand, had to fight restlessly just to see one another or to complete a singular class assigned. Being one of the smartest kids was one thing in your shared departments, but you could tell it was taking a toll on Medkit.

Medkit was always one to push you away when you came to support him on heavier tasks, always saying that there is no need to help him, that you wouldn't understand. Sure, some pieces may be difficult, but it didn't stop you from helping your boyfriend friend from getting out of such a place. Medkit would get defensive, you'd retaliate but end up helping him in the end. Sometimes, you'd shamelessly get yourself into his dorm complex and finish off the work yourself.

Medkit and you would go out on dates spend time together whenever you both can. Sometimes, it'd be spending time in one anothers presence, others may be going to the parks or ice-skating. He was a pro at ice-skating, while you were to be held by him. You always got embarrassed and flushed at each time he'd hold you, sometimes even feeling him against you. It made you flare up, in which he'd get worried your getting sick!

Medkit has sketched you sooooo many times in his work books. Sometimes, he'd became so zoned out thinking about you, that he'd have someone tap him on the shoulder if he wasn't paying attention. In the end of the day, he'd always get the answer correct if possible, in a some-sort of short response and go back to thinking about you.

Subspace found out about his crush about you, and kept urging and making stupid jokes around him. It got to the point, that Hyperlaser had to separate you two from one another. It was that bad, mostly because Medkit despised Subspace. He has no right talking about you like that! And he proves it, but he also proves the fact he is so into you.

He has tons of letters in his drawers that were supposed to be sent to you, but he never had the courage. Some are even ranking before he was transferred from the shared-department you both were in. Sadly, because of being kicked out of the school after the accident, he lost all those letters. But, who knows, Grav and Warp snuck around and about and found a bunch...

You would sometimes kick your legs and dedicated paragraphs to him in your work. When it came to english assignments, especially in some parts of your class-curriculum, you'd write so many aimed sentences towards him. Of course, your teacher didn't bother to question it, since no matter what you wrote it was aimlessly on theme. It just had that sort of aimed ring to it, and I'm sure Medkit would understand what you wrote instantly.

Medkit compares you to the moon, no take backs. Sometimes at night, when he struggles to sleep, he watches the moon. It reminds you of him, especially when you are unavailable a lot. You were the moon, and he was the sun watching from afar. The stars that trinkle support each dime, each feature that he loved about you.

Nature was what reminded you of him, or small little trinkets you were able to collect. They were your reminder, and you'd dedicate each trinket to him.

Overall, you both are just two teenagers aimlessly falling in-love with one another, but are so unaware and obnoxious to every sign given!!!