#just a fun little rabbit hole to venture down

[froot-batty]

happy hatter day to all those who celebrate >:]

Jervis Tetch seemed to one day just...appear in Gotham. Jervis simply popped into existence in Gotham's foster care system with an Alice in Wonderland book in his hand; no records of his birth or who dropped him off there, if anyone. Jervis himself can't remember where he came from before Gotham, but if you asked, he'd figure he just fell down the rabbit hole and ended up here.

Jervis was placed with many different foster families over the years. She never seemed to mesh right with any of those she was placed with, and spent very little time in each before being returned and shipped off to another. Being so young (and already pretty fragile, mentality-wise), Jervis' brain needed a way to cope with the ever-shifting, confusing mess that was her life.

In came Alice in Wonderland.

Imagining the homes she was placed into as the various places traveled to through Carroll's books made things a lot easier for him to deal with. It even became fun, after a while! He would slot the adults or the other children inside the home into specific roles within his mind's version of Wonderland, and would treat them and act out scenarios accordingly. Whenever he was pulled out of his Wonderland, he would become foggy, distant, and downtrodden - like the world had lost it's color.

(This growing disconnect with reality would only increase how many times she was placed in a different home.)

Eventually, Jervis outgrew the foster system, and shipped herself off to Gotham City University. While her first literature love would always be the Alice in Wonderland series, she had devoured anything that related to the mind and the influence of it. During her time in college, she spent her free time perfecting the act of hypnosis - almost to a scarily good extent. Though at first she only used this to make a little extra money from doing shows at parties.

Jervis graduated with a bachelor's in science and almost immediately joined the new, experimental neuroscience branch that Waynetech had begun developing.

Though most of the work there was doing research, Jervis loved his job, and stayed long enough to earn his Ph.D. in Neurochemistry and work his way up to directly working with the chemicals Waynetech was developing. Of course, the people working alongside Jervis weren't the best. She was funny-looking, and weird, and talked far too much, so that made her quite unpopular with just about everyone. All except for one Alice Hart.

Jervis thought he had long left Wonderland behind him, but suddenly it was back in full swing, invading every moment of free time with daydreams of tea parties with Alice in his lovingly-crafted Wonderland, all the roles filled perfectly so he would never have to venture outside of it again. A growing friendship with Alice herself in the real world did nothing but worsen Jervis' obsession.

But work had to continue, and Jervis had stumbled upon an idea that really captured her attention. A way to chemically influence the brain to do whatever you'd like it to do - like a form of liquid hypnosis. This had started with good intentions, but as Jervis gradually approached the rabbit hole, the development for it became...more unethical. Her first tests were on mice, and then on herself, which only proved to make her mind float even further from the real world. But it worked! When injested, it was less outright control and more suggestibility, but paired with her knack for hypnosis, she had invented mind control.

Her debut of what she'd found didn't go over well. Their creepy coworker, who seemed less-than-grounded on the best of days, inventing a way to control people's minds? That spread rumors around the branch, and eventually, Jervis' bosses made the collective decision to terminate him. While he was brilliant, they had been looking for an excuse to replace him with someone less, well....mad.

This devastated Jervis. But he at least had one thing to cling to - his dearest friend, Alice. She had supported her throughout all of it, and when Jervis plucked up the courage to ask her out for a night, she agreed. What she didn't know upon arriving at her home was that Jervis had long past gone over the edge, and the tea she offered had a little something other thrown into it.

]See, Jervis had concocted a plan. He gathered all of the people in his former company that he thought best fit the roles in his Wonderland, including his Alice, and took them to the Alice in Wonderland exhibit at the Gotham Museum. There, he forced them to reenact his favorite book series with him, the lines between reality and fantasy finally becoming one.

Batman came to the rescue a few hours into it, when Jervis had already been struggling to keep so many people under her spell. She fought back the Bat as best as she could, but it was actually Alice who put a stop to it. Alice, who had managed to snap out of Jervis' control and pick up a prop axe from one of the exhibits, caving in her captor's head with it when she wasn't paying attention. Though the axe was blunt and not made of actual metal, it was still a very heavy object, and before being taken to Arkham Jervis had to undergo extensive medical treatment that she'd never fully recover from.

Nowadays, Jervis drifts in-and-out of Wonderland once again. He is desperate to put all of the pieces back together and live his dream, but he can be patient. He's content to make friends with the other Rogues and help them out when his skills are needed, and in turn be seen as harmless to them.

For now.

#frootverse #jervis tetch #the mad hatter #batman #rogues gallery #my art

[taduki]

Fun-sized HCs: M6 w/ a Conspiracy Theorist MC

Yeah, that’s right, I’m making mini hcs cuz my full hcs are HUGE — they’re like oneshots. Also, yes any and all Inside Job fans come thru I’m begging. 🙏

Asra: If it were not for Julian, they would be the Major Arcana of conspiracies… I mean, when you died, he looked and looked for ways to bring you back when it’s generally supposed to be impossible. If you wanna mull over old books and scrolls for secrets that might not even be there, go right ahead! Will always tear you away from your studies to prevent you from going too far into the rabbit hole.

Julian: Omg!! Partners!! He obsessed over the plague and his best friends since then have been decaying tomes and mysterious ledgers. Though, he’d rather keep away from biology studies for a time, he’s all good with your investigations! He would accompany you on your ventures around the abandoned sides of Vesuvia as well as the not-so-abandoned sides… 😈

Portia: Confused… but delightfully interested! Wants to hear the most interesting stories you have. After all the fun you two had with the realms, who knows what’s gonna happen now! Is down to protect you anytime, but would prefer to keep you safe at home with just your theories. Wants to know everything that goes on in your cute little noggin. 💕

Nadia: Oh, well, now she can make use of that dusty, old section in the library! Is somehow surprised when you suddenly haul ass to the library… Really though, knowing a theorist is inquiring to her as a ruler. She’s cautiously intrigued in your interests, but would rather not intrude. Her concern for you shines through when you express plans to infiltrate or explore… Does her best to get you into events as lawfully as she can if you so wish.

Muriel: Doesn’t care, honestly 😭😭. After all you two have been through during the trip South, he’s had his fair share of magic and monsters already… DOES care when you show signs of the rabbit hole’s depths or plans to get into something dangerous. Begrudgingly accompanies you on expeditions, just to make sure you’re safe…

Lucio: Kind of cool, actually??? He never understood all of that magic junk that happened during the ritual, but secret societies and monuments are way cooler to him! Especially cooler now that you’re traveling and picking up stories from the locals. He’s down to muck up an old crypt anytime with you! Just… don’t expect him to be careful 😒…

#the arcana game #lucio morgasson #lucio the arcana #lucio montag #the arcana muriel #muriel of the kokhuri #nadia satrinava #the arcana hc #asra alnazar #julian devorak #the arcana nadia #the arcana portia #the arcana julian #the arcana hcs #the arcana headcanons #asra the arcana #portia devorak #the arcana x mc #portia the arcana #the arcana imagines #nadia the arcana #the arcana mc

[edgeray]

Warning: NOT FANFICTION, just a personal essay that can help you get to know me a little as writer lol

A/N: So... @megistusdiary said I should post this and I said fuck it we ball. This isn't my usual content and it's not fanfiction, but I thought it would be fun to just post this. This was for my creative writing class because we're in my creative nonfiction unit, so I've addressed that class various times throughout this. I absolutely hate writing about myself so this was the only thing I could muster up.

The prompt was to write about experiencing something for the first time, and naturally, as a fanfic writer, I'll be talking about when I first read fanfic.

Welcome to Hell: The First Time Fanfiction Had Me In a Chokehold

Here is the day that I unfortunately confess my sins for being a filthy fanfiction writer, and to that, I formally apologize for the side of me I will reveal. I like to humor myself by recalling the awful, tenuous journey of falling into the rabbit hole that is fiction based on already existing media, and how it is like a perpetual hell that I will never escape from–even though it’s a hell I’ve crafted into my haven. And if you are wondering whether I have shoved a diluted fanfiction of mine down your throat for a creative writing workshop: I have, and which of them is said fanfiction? That is between me, moi, and 我. And who knows? Maybe it’s multiple works I’ve submitted to the class that are fanfiction. Who’s to say?

In the blossoming of youth, during the awkward stage of life usually dubbed as “Middle School,” the ripe and prime age of twelve is the beginning of when I ventured down into this particular circle of hell. In sixth grade, during–fittingly–Writing Class I was introduced to this term, “fanfiction,” that my friends liked to place so high on a pedestal like it was a sacred gift bestowed upon them a deity. 

Two out of my three friends at the time consumed fanfiction in such a shameless, ravenous manner that I believed at the time that instead of supplying energy from essentials like food and water, the way they obtain their energy, derive their purpose of waking and breathing, was from a process similar to that of photosynthesis: always drawn to the light of their phone screens then regurgitating the text out to my dismayed ears. Lunch periods were often filled with retellings of Vampire Diaries fanfiction as I absentmindedly chewed on my sad rectangle cardboard pizza. At the very least, I could say I was intrigued, if not a little perturbed, but alas, with present reflections–I only remain in said friend group that continues such activities. It seems that my friends have found salvation, while I'm still condemned. 

In any case, they gently prodded me towards their domain of escapism, like a lamb being offered to a lion as a sacrifice, and then I was victimized by the hell site, Wattpad. I got unwelcome shivers typing that name. If you are unaware of what Wattpad is, remain that way. There was a distinct innocence that I was stripped of upon the discovery of the website. Flocked with young, budding tweens like myself who were definitely not old enough to have made an account but made one anyway, it was a horrendous experience filled with writing from kids who didn’t know how to write and yet published their work anyway. But I was not privy to this information one January evening in 2019, when I first made my account. 

The first few fanfictions I subjected myself to was Undertale fanfiction. I don’t remember any of its content, and if I did, I wouldn’t torment you by reciting it. To this day, I cannot tell for sure if it was a blessing or curse that that phase of my life was so brief in my life. While I could not recall the very first piece of writing I read from the site, I remember the sensation of being sucked into a world, not like my own, the seemingly large at the time, but now meager worries I had then disappeared. The sensation, long from being fresh, is difficult to detail, but I’d like to describe it as trying an unfamiliar dish for the first time–while you didn’t enjoy the flavor profile of it, you could understand its merits and why people relished it. Like mangoes. Past grammatically incorrect writing or chapters formatted the same way like a brick (a wall of text with no breaks, written by someone who has forgotten the function of an ENTER key), I pressed on in this scape that I once considered a nook away from reality, but what I now consider a writer’s hell. Curiosity killed the cat, or in this case, my child-like chastity, and on that day died whatever sweet summer child I was, and birthed the melodramatic writer I am now. 

Surreal, as it was, fanfiction that day managed to answer many unasked ‘what if’ questions. Questions that I never knew were capable of considering in the first place. I would give some tamer examples of the wonders I’ve had, but all that comes to mind have neither the context nor normality that could justifiably defend how my thoughts came to them. But these questions, nevertheless, were enjoyable to find other people’s interpretations to. I believe there was a unique charm to fanfiction I was drawn to even when I did not know it then. Despite the poor quality or the numerous non-canon-compliant plot holes; it’s produced with the same love a mother would have for her child, a product of their efforts, dreams, and desires that was then shared on to the public, no matter how audacious the content was. There were… definitely some texts that made me question the wellbeing of the author. 

The reason why I consider fanfiction a personal hell is largely due to how much it’s engrossed me. I’ve spilled tears and expletives over fan-made works including my own, and yet I remain ever loyal to the practice of reading and writing it. There have been works that I’ve read that I hope never resurface in my mind, and works that I hold so close to my heart I cannot help but think about time and time again. While others have been mastering instruments or the brush, I have been mastering the art of writing fanfiction since sixth grade. And here I find myself, in the Creative Writing Workshop because I, like any proud artist, want to continue polishing my skills. And so I share with you a trait I often anxiously hide away and yet delightedly define because that is the foundation I stand on when I declare myself as a writer. 

#edgeray.rambles #edgeray.writes

[bcacstuff]

I'm new here and I am actually scared of how obsessive people are. Sam is not even a big thing. But his fandom is up there with Kristen and Rob, Directioners and other extremists when it comes to sheer delusion. Usually all these people come with already decided agenda and whatever little tidbit comes out they will make up story around it to fit their agenda perfectly. Man could be tied to lie detector and deny all their delusions and they will find a way around that as well - it's very much like talking to a bot.

As someone who only found out Sam Heughan exist recently and went down tumblr rabbit hole, here's what I've gathered about him:

When Outlander started, quite opposite to what ES think - He and Cait were definitely incouraged by studio to go heavy on flirting in promos and sell the show in that way. They're in TV show based on love between their characters so it only makes sense to carry those thing into promo as well. He wasn't part of a boy band so they would need him to be the heartthrob and single as ES clams. Anyone with basic knowledge of PR would've known this. Also these two are obviously friends but they're too different for romance in RL. I won't even dabble into what kind of person both of them would have to be to fit into ES stories.

He's 43 year old actor whose primary mistake is working with friends who are probably middle-aged as he is. Why I even say this is because I've noticed both from just looking at his social media, the way he posts and does promos and from comments here, how much his age shows (most people perceive it as cheesiness), and in his business ventures you can clearly see his team is bad. His age shows in the way he uses technology, BIG TIME, I go to his profile and feel like I'm on my uncle's feed (my uncle is 5 years older than him and also deeply in midlife crisis). You guys find it cheesy and fake but that's just his generation and technology, he's a bit awkward and clearly introverted, also has very British/Scottish sense of humor which (as I've seen for myself) translates very differently to other Europeans, but especially to Americans. There's nothing wrong with any of it, in fact to me that's the best part of him, and that's where his team is completely messing up. Instead of using all of it and adjusting content to him, make it more relatable and original - they pray on his popularity as Jaime Fraser, still stuck on the same image of him they wanted to present 10 years ago (and the way internet worked 10 years ago), instead of evolving with his age and focusing on branching him out of Outlander, adjusting content to his true nature so he doesn't constatly have to put on oh so fake persona for promo and spam with shameless sale pitchs. He's not blameless or a victim in all this, don't get me wrong on that - but he fell in basic trap of getting in business with friends who obviously are not creative people and have found their golden cow, so they need him to keep milking - his team is so blatantly unimaginative, lazy, can't read the room or follow trends. - that's why I think they're as well middle-aged and not truly professionals - older generation are simply not as adaptive to today's technology led world. I also don't think he enjoys it, especially being hunted by desperate housewifes part and doing promo just for that audience. It probably was fun at the beginning but 10 years later NOPE. Now he's a hamster on a wheel. Don't even let me start on Sassenach, that is the most blatant example of everything I've said about his team. It might be his idea to name it that, but it shows true face of people around him that nobody told him - long term looking it's a terrible idea. He focused on Outlander instead of Scotland, and even when he tries to make it about Scotland it falls flat because his partner friend has tied him in a contract by which he's supposed to focus on American market. It's a JOKE. But just next time you see him shirtless with a bottle know where it's coming from 😂

Now the dating life. If it wasn't for tumblr the only women he was officially linked to were MM and MC in past 10 years. And I would've thought the man is a monk. On the other hand on tumblr he's linked to anyone and anything that stands/sits next to him. But even if every single one of them were dates he's still well under the radar. He dates around and since there's no complaints from these women it's nobody's buisness (beside the one who blamed him for gaslighting but that is equally on that girl who just couldn't get the clues that a guy wasn't really into her).

I do believe that Outlander takes big toll on his love life, certainly doesn't help his abandonment issues and as long as he's having so many projects on his hands he won't settle for anyone. Also Iooking at girls he's been connected to I don't think he can actually connect to any of them, too young and superficial and he's too akward, introverted and not the best at expressing himself. He probably gets bored out of his mind too quickly and they're there for sugar daddy ride. But since I don't think he's truly looking for anything serious atm, no harm in it as long as both sides are in agreement. Also people need to seriously chill, a man and a woman can actually be friends and have good time on lunch and dinner or a walk without any transactions (except to restorant/caffee). He does not f everyone in his proximity with vagina between her legs. Other blogs claim he doesn't even like vaginas 😅

I understand that following him for as long as you do, you have probably seen lots of moments of hypocrisy and cheesiness and whoring and shilling but reading some of the comments I see pattern of people who have already made their mind so he's "Sam the whore", "Sam the husband", "Sam in the closet", "Sam the Salesman", "Jesus Sam King of Man", (mix and match as you like), and just spew often very hateful things in accordance to the role they asigned to him. So much energy and emotions over someone they don't know and doesn't affect them in any way. Wish people could be less judgmental, at the end of the day we don't know anything and could be entirely wrong. Imagine if your life was picked apart and judged the way you do here based on heresy and snippet. Not a comfortable spot and there's no winner there.

I like your blog because it's the most objective one and you're readers are more or less objective as well. This is very new experience for me but in just few weeks I've seen so much nonsense about this man that I had to say something. I usually don't have interest in any type of fandoms or celebrity fan pages and that I'm saying anything is really a compliment to you because usually fandoms are so far of reality that I simply don't bother to comment - I'd have more meaningful conversation with a wall. So I simply leave asap. You seem openminded so I felt free to say something.

Sorry about the long ass post, just felt the need to unload before I leave this la la land as well.

Well well... that's a very long farewell for someone new must say 😂

But yes, this fandom is sheer craziness, so much you did figure out. I do oppose to connecting age to technology. I'm older than him, but, if i may say so myself, very savvy when it comes to technology and (modern) digital marketing. That's pure a form of interest and time and hasn't got anything to do with the age of a person. He just didn't gather the right people around him for that (or just wants to control things too much himself). I agree his people (and perhaps he himself isn't creative enough, but again, that has nothing to do with 'middle aged' or any age imho.

He's been linked to a good number of women. Some are perhaps nothing more than a lunch or a coffee. With some others it's hard to believe he acted like a monk. Well, it's all his choice for sure, I don't actually care that much. Care more to put out here what is going on with proof so everyone can see and use their rationale to draw conclusions from it. But everyone does so from her/his own cultural background, believes etc. One can hardly ever change that (and I wont). All here for the good discussions, speculations, exchanges of thoughts, and from time to time the fun factor 😉

Anyway, thanks for the compliment... I guess 😊

[tsumtsumrry]

Christina

the one where there’s a reminder 

(3.4k words; there’s smut, lots of mention of hate, husband harry :D, like two seconds of fluff at the end, ofc there’s language)

Everybody knows the media isn’t the most positive place. But Christina knows that all too well. 

Christina and Harry have been together for seven years, and while all seven of those years were heaven within the relationship, outside of it was hell. 

Out of all the people Harry has been with, Christina gets the most internet slaughter and hate. Neither of them really understand why, but Harry’s solution to the problem was always to ignore them because, “if they have nothing better to do than gossip about an incredible woman they don’t even know they aren’t worth your time”

Christina believes him of course, but sometimes she accidentally stumbles across some hateful words, opens a thread, and then she’s sucked into a rabbit hole of them. Other times, she can’t stop herself from venturing on to her social media platforms and seeing what people are saying about her.

This is one of the latter.

After she put Darcy to sleep, she sat down on the couch and went to town, finding every nasty tweet, post, and thread that she could find.

She’s fighting back tears as she reads every last word, down to the punctuation and grammar mistakes and wonders what she’s doing so wrong that everyone hates her. 

She keeps reading and reading and her heart is breaking and breaking and she can feel a headache coming on but yet she still doesn’t stop. 

It’s not until she hears heavy footsteps coming down the stairs that she even has a thought of putting her phone away. 

She can hear the footsteps getting closer to the bottom and she tries her best to wipe her tears before her husband sees her having a breakdown over some comments that were probably written by ten-year olds.

Harry was just up in their shared room watching television and relaxing when he missed his wife and wanted to give her a kiss. He’s always excited to talk to or see her even though they live in the same house, sleep in the same bed, and see each other all the time. He always wants to be around her, he can’t stand when she’s not there. He gets so pouty and down when he’s on tour and he just wants a cuddle. 

Christina always makes fun of him for being so extremely homesick, but she can’t deny that she misses him terribly when he’s gone too. 

Harry starts whistling a happy tune in glee because he still can’t believe his life is this perfect, but he abruptly stops when he hears a sniffle. 

His trots down the stairs slow and he starts to walk more cautiously down the stairs. They’ve been down this road before, Harry always wants to comfort his wife, but she doesn’t like showing that she’s in pain, whenever Harry even tries to catch her crying or down, she just plasters on a fake smile and gives him a bullshit excuse. He hates it, but he knows he can’t force anything out of her and Christina is safe knowing he won’t try to. 

Christina is still wiping her tears and she doesn’t even notice that the heavy steps have stopped, she’s just focused on putting on a good face for her husband. 

“Baby?” 

Christina practically jumps out of her skin when she hears his voice. She’s hoping he can’t see her swollen lips, wet skin, and that her puffy eyes and that he’ll just cuddle her to sleep and call it a night. 

She sniffles a little softer than before and prays he doesn’t hear it, “uh...hi H. Why aren’t you sleeping yet? It’s pretty late.” She internally curses her voice for trembling a bit and turns around a little more to smile at him. 

Harry usually tries to demand that he tell her what’s going on, but that never works because he’s a little scared of upsetting her and their volumes when they speak have always been inside voices unless they were in the bedroom. So he tries a different approach. 

He walks slowly over to her where she’s sitting on the couch and leans down to rest his head on her shoulder. He sighs at her intoxicating scent and warming aura and pecks her on the cheek. “Why aren’t you sleeping yet, my love?” 

She shrugs lightly and tries to lean more into Harry, god knows she needs to comfort (even if she won’t say it).

“Just put Darcy to sleep, she was a little more stubborn than normal today.” she mumbles. At least she’s not really lying. She did just put Darcy to sleep, but that’s obviously not all she did. 

At this, Harry pulls his head back, trying to get eye contact with her and he frowns, “I could’ve done that.” 

“It’s fine, I thought you were asleep anyways.” 

Harry nods and believes her at first, but then he thinks back to the sniffle and how she was trying to discreetly wipe away tears when he walked down and he frowns even more. 

Christina notices and her lips dip down at the corners too, wondering what’s got him upset. 

“If you just put Darcy to sleep....why’re you out here sitting on the couch?” Harry mumbles, trying his best not to sound too accusing. Christina is taken aback though. Harry always believes whatever lies about how she’s feeling that she tells him, she lets her emotions out through something else, and everythings good again. But this time she has a feeling that routine isn’t gonna fly.

She stutters out a rushed lie and that's when Harry’s heart breaks, “jesus, baby. You have to talk to me. Tell me what’s going on?” he says, his voice raising in volume and sternness in the slightest so she knows he’s not playing around this time. 

Christina doesn’t know how to say it, so she decides she’ll just show him, she pulls out her phone, unlocks it, puts it right in Harry’s line of vision. 

She can see his irises moving rapidly around the page opened on her small phone screen and she’s biting her nails, overcome with nerves. 

She knows it’s stupid, but she can’t help but think that maybe Harry is reading those words and agreeing with his fans. Agreeing that she’s a slut, a bitch, and someone who doesn’t deserve Harry. They are his fans after all, wouldn’t he agree?

Tears fall from her eyes at her thoughts and Harry is so engrossed in these disgusting messages that he isn’t even realizing them. 

With every word he reads, the urge to vomit grows stronger. He can’t believe that his fans, the people that claim to love and adore him so much , would talk so disgustingly about a person he loves and adores so much. 

In times like these, he’s exceptionally grateful for all the fans of his that respect his life, privacy, and relationship. 

He imagines Christina reading these messages with tears in her eyes and doubt in her heart and he feels his own heart crack even more. He’s trying to fight back some of his own crying and finally tears his eyes off the screen. 

“Why are you loo--” he stops when he sees Christina with tears streaming down her face and a pouty trembling lip. 

“C’mere.” Is all he says before Christina is tossing herself into his arms and sobbing into his chest. 

“None of those things are true, alright? Those people are fuckin’ assholes.” 

Christina wants to believe him, but she can’t shake the feeling that he’s lying to her face. She knows insecurity is something she’s struggled with for a while. She hates it but she can’t really stop it. 

Her friends tell her that she’s dating the Harry Styles and has nothing to feel insecure about, but the fact that she’s dating Harry sometimes makes it worse. 

The alleged cure is the cause. 

Harry tries to tell her everyday that he loves her, that she’s perfect and all he wants, but Christina’s mind makes her believe otherwise. Harry knows that she can’t help the fact that her brain is lying to her, but he can’t help feeling his heart break when he sees her crying and down because of it. 

“You know what?” Harry says all of a sudden and stands up abruptly at the same time. He grabs her arm from around her torso and pulls her up from the couch. Christina has no idea what’s going on, but she just goes along with it because she knows once Harry has something in mind (especially a solution to a problem) he’s not going to let it go. 

Harry’s in between fuming and being heartbroken for his girl. He’s stomping up the stairs into their bedroom and Christina is aimlessly following him with no fucking clue what’s going on. 

Once they get into the bedroom, Harry pulls her once more but this time he pulls her down on the edge of the bed in a sitting position. He has a stern, concentrated look on his face. His eyebrows are pulled harshly together and his thumb and pointer finger are picking at his bottom lip that’s set in a pout. 

Christina just stares at him with her eyebrows raised up to her hairline and her mind swimming with confusion and a little bit of amusement at how her husband is behaving. 

Harry is pacing back and forth in short quick steps before he stops right in front of her. He looks down at her and tilts his head to the side while pursing his lips almost as if he’s negotiating with himself about something in his head. 

He hums and then speaks “I think I have to remind you just how perfect you are. Just how wrong those people are.” 

Christina’s eyebrows pull down her face in confusion and Harry smiles slightly. 

“I wanna show you,” he pauses and leans down to kiss her lips slowly and passionately, “just how fucking perfect you are. Will you let me?” 

Harry hands move from his side to Christina’s full thighs and starts to knead them sensually until he lets his hands inch higher. Christina sucks in a breath and Harry smirks before he speaks. “Please let me show you, baby”

Christina nods, at all loss for words and before Harry can reprimand her she corrects herself and gives him verbal consent. 

He lowers himself down until he’s on his knees, watching her the whole time and Christina’s breath hitches at the sight. 

“Only woman who can get me on my knees like this. S’only for you, babe.” he whispers while using his large hands that are still set on her thighs and slowly spreading them apart. 

He leans his head a little further, still managing eye contact, and starts to leave wet, slow open-mouthed kisses up and down her thighs. He smirks when he feels a warming heat start up near her core and Christina is desperately trying to hold in her gasps. 

Harry reaches his hand up to pull down her small shorts, and then her underwear follows. Christina suddenly feels exposed and tries to shut her legs, but Harry isn’t having any of it. His grip tightens on her thighs and makes it so she can’t even think of moving them. 

Both of them know Harry has always been a bit shy and submissive when it comes to sex. Christina was quite the dominant herself so it worked out. But today, today is definitely different. It’s obvious that Christina is beyond surprised at the commanding inflection in Harry’s voice and the way he’s dealing with her right now.

Christina is at a loss for words when he leans even further and licks a slow stripe up her heat. She gasps and her hands instinctively go to tangle in his hair. 

He groans and with his mouth still on her, moves his hand under her thighs and picks her up slightly to push her further on the bed. She lays down on her back in the soft sheets and is suddenly grateful she has something else other than his beautiful hair to tug on (even though he loves it).

His tongue juts out to put just the right amount of pressure on her clit and begins his fast paced patterns. Christina throws her head back in ecstasy and moans softly into the air. Her eyes squeeze shut and her back arches. 

Harry’s always been good at going down on his woman, it’s never been anything he’s had trouble with. Pleasing his woman in general is easy and fun for him. He’s always told Christina he enjoys her pleasure more than his, and it’s true. Nothing beats the face his wife makes when she comes undone on his mouth, fingers, or his cock. Nothing beats that.

“Watch, Cris. Look at me.” Harry rasps and while it proves difficult to keep her eyes open while his tongue is quite literally inside of her, she manages to open her eyes and look at Harry only to find his lustful gaze is already fixed on her.  

Christina can feel the stirring in her tummy that’s telling her she’s already close. Harry and her haven’t done anything like this in a while since the baby, at least that’s Harry reasoning. Christina hasn’t felt like being touched by Harry since she’s been so consumed with the hate on the internet and social platforms, but Harry’s hoping to change that tonight. 

Her moans become more frequent and raise in volume and Harry knows that she’s close, the way she’s soaking his face is more of an accurate indication, though.

“Oh god--fuck! I’m close! Harry, harry I’m close!” she moans out, getting closer and closer to relief with every flick and suck that he plants on her. 

“Mhm. Yes. Cum.” he mumbles back at her, knowing she likes the small encouragement. 

“Fuck!” she gasps and then she’s cumming and Harry’s groaning and they’re both in bliss with their shared satisfaction. 

Harry doesn’t let up with his tongue until she’s whimpering and whining in overstimulation and trying to separate her core from his mouth. 

“Good?” he asks after pressing a kiss below her ear. He knows the answer to his own question but would rather hear it coming out of the mouth that was just helplessly moaning his name. 

“So good” Christina smiles in content and Harry smirks at her expression and the praise. 

“M’so hard for you, baby. Feel.” he whispers and takes her hand in his to guide it to his crotch. 

Christina applies to pressure to lightly palm him and he moans softly at the contact. 

Seeing her in pleasure gets him exceptionally excited and that’s why he’s been grounding his hip into the mattress in hopes to offer himself some relief. He can tell that he’s extra sensitive and any touch she gives him is threatening to send him over the edge. 

“S’for you, baby. S’all for you.” he says referring to how rock hard he is and Christina mewls softly at his voice.

He brings his hand down to her heat and presses his palm to it, teasingly moving it some, “this for me?” he mumbles softly with a hint of taunt in his voice. 

Christina nods quickly after a quiet gasp, “yes, Harry. It’s for you.” 

“Good.” is all he says before he discards his pants and boxers and leans down to give Christina sensual, loving kisses. 

He always puts effort into the kisses he gives his wife, but he makes sure to make this one especially powerful. He wants her to feel every ounce of emotion and love he has for her. Even though he knows it’s her insecurities that make her feel like she’s not enough, he won’t lie and say it doesn’t sting that feels that way. It makes him feel like he’s not doing a good enough job as a husband with showing her he loves her, he’s hoping that this changes that.

He takes a hold of his cock and presses it near her entrance, sucking in a breath and the feel of her wetness that’s starting to pool and drip out of her. 

“D’you want me to keep going? Want me to fuck you?” Harry asks softly and Christina nods deliriously, so overwhelmed with the intense need to let him have her in any way he wants. 

He adjusts himself a little bit and pushes his hips forward tortuously slow until she’s filled with him completely. 

“Fuck. So so tight. Fucking christ.” Harry gasps. 

Christina moans aimlessly into the air and Harry takes advantage of it, bringing his lips to her neck. He sucks and kisses it and she moans at both forms of pleasure she’s getting. 

“God you’re so perfect. You feel so fucking good, so tight around me. S’like you’re fucking hugging me.” 

Christina mewls at the words coming out of his mouth. They’ve both always equally loved dirty talk, it’s something that gets them both going and ultimately everything feels better when your partner is letting you know they enjoy what you’re doing to them. 

“M’so full, Harry.” she says at the same time Harry thrusts particularly deep. His eyes roll into the back of his head while his jaw slacks in a stomach-knotting moan. 

“Yeah? I fill you up?” Harry taunts, leaning down to nibble at her earlobe. It’s no secret between the two (and everyone else if we’re being honest) that he has a bit of a praise kink. A bit would actually be an understatement. Not many things can make him feel like praise makes him feel. When Christina tells him how big he is, how good he’s making her feel, it literally makes him shake. 

“God, yes. You’re so big, makes me feel so good.” she tightens around him for a second, almost as if to prove her point and Harry has to bite down on her shoulder to pacify his loud moan somehow. 

“Fuck look at me.” he manages to growl out. As soon as he gets her eye contact, (wavering, but still eye contact nonetheless) he speaks. “Do you see how fucking good you’re making me feel? Nobody else can make me feel like--fuck--like this. You’ve got me so fucked up for you.”  

At this point he’s just babbling out whatever comes to his mind, he’s sure he sounds incoherent but Christina hears him and it nearly brings tears to her eyes. She’s never had someone care about how she feels about herself as much as Harry. The fact that he’s doing everything in his power to make sure she knows how loved and perfect she is, it makes her indescribably happy.

So much so that the orgasm got a little closer than she thought it would be. 

Harry watches her face contort some and his head lulls to the side when she tightens around him. “Gonna cum, baby?” 

She nods quickly and she can feel it, she can feel everything building up into that white hot pleasure, she can feel it about to bubble over the surface, but then he stops. 

She whines in protest but Harry just shakes his head.

“Tell me, Christina.” 

“Harry.” she whines “Let me come.” 

“You’re perfect, beautiful, and the love of my life.” he punctuates each adjective with a kiss. “Say it.” 

She whines again and tries to shift her hips to get some sort of friction, but Harry pins her hips down and Christina is cursing his strength. 

“Say it.” 

“I’m….perfect, beautiful...” Harry hums to urge her to keep going, leaving open mouthed kisses all over her neck, trying his best to refrain from nipping at all so she can finish her sentence. “...and the love of your life.” she finishes. 

“That’s right. Remember that.” Harry says with a tone of finality, and in two quick movements he pulls out of her only to quickly slam back into her.

“Fuck” he gasps. “Have no idea how hard it was to stay still. Y’so warm though, it was nice.”

It doesn’t take much to bring both of them right back to the edge, Christina squeaking out high pitched moans and Harry sobbing out what sounds like pained groans. 

“Yes, fuck. Cum. My perfect, beautiful wife. Need you to come for me.”  

Almost immediately after the words leave his mouth she cums and takes Harry right with her with a muffled-into-the-pillows shout of her name. 

Harry gasps with the last spurt of cum that shoots out of him into her and then he slumps down on top of her, completely worn out. 

“You’re so good at that.” Christina says with a breathy laugh and Harry joins her. 

“Yeah? You too, babe.” he chuckles.

“No I mean, making me feel better, You’ve always been so good at that.” she reiterates. 

Harry just smiles down at her and leans down to peck her lips, “s’my job, baby.” 

“Let’s go get cleaned up and then we can have a cuddle, yeah?” Harry says and Christina nods with a smile.

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles x oc #harry styles angst #old

[practically-an-x-man]

What do your OCs do when burned out, or just feeling the gloomies? (Feel free to ignore if this makes you feel worse)

Ooh, good question!!

Rae: She'll sit down with a good book and let the other characters' story take over for a while

Robin: She'll go down to the music room and practice piano for a bit, or down to the rec room and play Joust if she needs something a little more casual

Madison: Off to go take a hike with Bravo - peace and quiet, surrounded by nature, it steadies her.

Quinn: She likes people-watching. If she's feeling up to it, she might walk down the streets and pickpocket, but otherwise she just likes to watch their interactions and mannerisms.

Jasper: Crank up the tunes! They've got a whole pump-up vibes playlist that they'll use to cheer themself up

Ophelia: Straps on her actuators and wanders the city - even if there aren't any criminals or supervillains to take down, it's nice to just find the tallest structure she can and climb to the top of it. It's the closest thing to flying she'll ever have

Katherine: Usually she'll sit down with her sketchbook and a little music and just let her hands fly without thinking about what she's drawing. If it's art stuff that's got her burnt out, like she's been working too hard, she'll find a random historical Wikipedia article and scroll through it a bit - it gets really interesting and usually she ends up in a rabbit hole, and it makes good information for her museum ventures later.

Kestrel: It's going to involve some sort of transformation, for sure. Either they'll sleep it off and shift into a cat or other cuddly creature to be more comfortable, or they'll want to clear their head and go for a soar as a (literal) kestrel, or otherwise will just shift into something else for fun. Shapeshifting is a good mental reset sometimes.

#my friends!!! #answered asks #my ocs #madison douglas #jasper wilson #oc quinn/aces #rae mckinney #robin cassidy #ophelia octavius #oc kestrel #oc katherine johnson

[overwook]

x. dossier. / x. wanted plots. x. pinterest. / x. thread tracker.

heyhihello it's your girl baz here with a 2nd muse, this one far less fleshed out but it'll be really fun to figure him out more in this setting! those close to him have always called him wookie, which is a reference lost on him; bro has never seen a star war. anyway, he's your typical stoner / burnout skater boy who is an annoying little sh*t with a heart of gold somewhere deep deep down. there's a little bit more under the cut and as usual, if you wanna plot anything with this goober, pls do leave a like! also you can find me on discord @ umjis_gf if that's easier 💗

BACKSTORY

born & raised on jeju island. the family was financially comfortable due to his mother's realtor career and his father's months out at sea fishing, but the latter's absence was known to take its toll on the family.

wook took full advantage of less supervision and pretty much made the island his stomping grounds. he'd venture around for most of the day, only returning home around dinnertime to fill his empty stomach.

when he received his first skateboard for his 8th birthday, he taught himself to ride in the old empty pool of an abandoned mansion on the island. he'd stay there for hours, falling flat on his face dozens of times before he finally learned to sail across flat ground on the board.

after a few years, he'd gotten pretty good and had learned a plethora of tricks that the pool allowed him to land fairly easily. sure, he'd also built up a few hospital visits, but none of it ever seemed to deter him from what he loved to do.

his teenage years were a little more...stormy as his attitude towards his father became pretty icy. he was never around and when he was, he was always extremely short and uncaring with his family. wookie knew his father was tired from the months at sea, but he also knew the asshole could spare his distraught wife more than a hand wave and dirty dishes on the kitchen table to wash up later.

when taewook turned 16, it came out that his father had actually been cheating on his mother with the woman who did the finances for his fishing boat. at that point, wook was done with his father and wouldn't even speak to the man.

his father moved out, and it was just wookie and his mom from then on. when it came time for him to go to college, the two moved to daegu after he was accepted to kyungpook national university. wook studied civil engineering, but despite the school's best efforts to guide him toward success, it was here that he became truly aimless.

he started smoking weed that he'd buy off other students, staying out all night drinking and partying, missing classes and doing insane skateboard stunts off sacred parts of the school grounds. when he was eventually kicked out of the university, he'd never seen his mom so disappointed. even his father's infidelity hadn't broken her heart the way he had, and it made him spiral even further down the rabbit hole.

wookie's mom did eventually forgive him, and her disappointment was replaced with heavy concern about her son's future. he assured her he was fine, and got a job at wonhyeong skate park to prove to her he was at least moving in the right direction.

he was even able to get his own apartment and a guinea pig to take care of, all acts done to show his mother that he was serious about turning his life around, though it was more so to bide his time than anything else. at least he did end up becoming best friends with doch!

PERSONALITY

this little sh*tdemon okay, so he is an absolute pain in the ass. loves to tease people and whine until he gets his way. will eat any food you leave out so literally don't leave food in the vicinity of him and walk away, he's like a wild dog.

if he disappears, he's 100% somewhere secluded smoking a joint. he smokes way too much and boy do his eyes show it: literally always slightly red and very sleepy. it also makes him pretty lazy, but that also means he'll be too tired to argue and that is a major plus.

has a massive weakness for pretty people. he's very flirty and lighthearted with people he finds attractive but he's also afraid of commitment so he's never been in a real rs?? he's only ever just slept around. a lot.

some have mythologized that wookie actually has a kind heart deep down, especially in the way that he cares about what his mom thinks of him and the adorable way in which he interacts with doch and dotes on him like a proud father.

speaking of fathers, don't ask him about his! or he will literally brood and cry for three days.

being friends with taewook means that you sometimes run the risk of tripping over him asleep on your floor hours after you thought he left, with an open bag of cookies laying next to him.

he can be a good time or a waste of time, it truly depends on the day.

#´ ☁︎ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 . #/repost!

[he-flies-with-his-own-wings]

throwing ideas your way in case you want them (NOTHING underage): 1- dick loves being held by bruce (bruce loves it, too; whispering sweet and filthy things to him depending on the mood); 2- phone s*x or s*xting/pics; 3- au where they're not heroes (lawyers, drs, bankers); 4- skinny dipping or another getaway; 5- mutual m**turbation; 6- dick surprising b with something really nice/meaningful.

yo are we allowed to have p()rn on this website again, because if so maybe i'll take a run at a few of these other ideas sometime too. but in the meantime, here's a piping hot #6 for you!

perfectly safe for work unless your work doesn't want you using tumblr during business hours. established relationship, no smut, lots of feels, light angst. tried to do my best by romani dick & jewish bruce and then fell down a rabbit hole of 20th century circus town history.

thank you for your prompts and please, folks, feel free to keep 'em coming!

-----------------------------------------------------

These days, when mail addressed to Dick Grayson arrives at Wayne Manor, which hasn’t been his legal residence in like a decade, it’s generally an excuse for Bruce to have a little fun with it. 

(“This relationship is very new, still,” he said the last time, sitting somberly across from Dick at the breakfast table with an envelope in his hand. “Things are delicate between us, Dick.”

“I understand that. We’ve talked about this before, Bruce. I know you want to take things slow.”

“I do. That’s why I’m concerned. It’s far too early to be telling everybody at -” as he looked down at the envelope with a solemnly furrowed brow - “Gotham City Bank Preferred Platinum Visa Rewards Card that we’re moving in together.”

“Very funny.”

“I know you’re preapproved for a special offer with 0% interest APR, but -”

“Oh, just give me the goddamn envelope and shut up.”)

But this time, both he and Alfred see the return address on the big cardboard box when it arrives, and they know whatever is inside, they can’t joke about this.

Gibsonton, Florida has been the winter home of circus and carnival performers since the early Depression. Its unique zoning laws allow residents to keep everything from monkeys to elephants to giant tents and trailers on their property, and in its glory days it was a safe, albeit colorful and bizarre, home for all kinds of people who might have been treated like freaks anywhere else. Pop Haly had been born there, back when the town was at its wildest, and had always spoken of it fondly, though in Dick’s time the circus traveled so far and wide that they didn’t really take whole winters off anymore the way they used to, so his memories of the place were more fragmented.

It would not take Batman - or even an ordinary detective - to figure out what’s in the box. Alfred gets there just as quickly as Bruce.

“Master Richard did mention plans for the circus to sell off some of the assets that were no longer in use, in order to reinvest them in the new permanent site,” the butler ventures. “I do not recall specifics, but I would imagine property -”

“And somebody going through it for sale found something that belonged to the Graysons.”

“Would you like to call him, sir, or shall I?”

Bruce shakes his head. “It’s Wednesday. He’ll be here at seven for dinner anyway. Leave it on his bed in his old room. He might want to be alone when he opens it. We don’t have any way of knowing what’s in that box, or how it will make him feel.”

He doesn’t get answers to either of those questions that night. Dick finds Bruce in the study and kisses him hello with an easy smile, but it falls off his face like a painting on a loose nail when he hears the word “Gibsonton.” He’s alone upstairs for so long that Alfred has to put the chicken pot pies back in the oven to keep warm, and when he comes back down to the dining room he’s uncharacteristically reserved and somber.

“What did he tell you?” Alfred asks Bruce quietly, as he helps the butler carry the dishes into the kitchen, leaving Dick staring wordlessly into his coffee and playing with a brownie he isn’t really eating.

“Nothing. I didn’t ask.”

“Not even to see if he was all right?”

“He’s not all right,” Bruce says simply. “It’s private, Alfred. If he wants to tell us, he will.”

But he doesn’t say anything over coffee and brownies, and he doesn’t say anything as he puts the box in the trunk of his car and drives home, and he doesn’t say anything for days and weeks afterward. 

Bruce still doesn’t ask. But he hasn’t stopped wondering.

* * * * *

It’s nearly two months before the topic comes up again.

It’s a nice night, warm for October, the skies clear. Bruce is sitting alone with a cup of coffee on one of the benches near a corner of the grounds where the leaves are already turning. He still has a few hours before it’s time to leave for patrol, and it’s peaceful here. His parents liked this spot. It’s gotten easier, slowly but surely over the years since Dick came into his life, to live alongside their ghosts without feeling quite so . . . haunted. He can remember the nice moments without as much pain. When he was little, after the fall leaves were raked up into piles but before the landscapers hauled them away, Bruce was permitted to jump in them. He liked the crunching sound.

He hears the same sound behind him suddenly, an odd coincidence, and turns to see Dick approaching across the flagstones, scattered red and gold leaves crackling under his feet.

“You’re early,” he says, smiling, and moves aside to make room on the bench.

“Alfred said I’d find you here.”

Everything okay?”

“Yes. Yeah. I just had something -” Dick pauses, shaking his head a little like he’s gathering his thoughts, and takes a seat beside Bruce. They look up at the stars in silence for a few moments. Bruce doesn’t press him. Dick will talk when he’s ready. He always does.

“So you probably remember that box,” he says finally. He doesn’t look at Bruce as he speaks. “The one that came here for me.”

Bruce nods. “I remember.”

Another silence.

“You know, I kept waiting for you to ask me what was in it,” Dick says.

“It was private.”

“Like you’ve never seen me opening the mail and asked, ‘oh, a package! Who’s it from?’”

“I know exactly what Gibsonton is, Dick. Did you want me to ask, or were you afraid of me asking?”

“I don’t really know,” says Dick.

“Are you bringing it up because you want to tell me now?”

This silence lasts even longer than the others. Bruce doesn’t reach out to touch him, or turn to look at his face, but he lets his knee shift leftward just a centimeter or two, enough to bump lightly against Dick’s. I’m right here, the gesture says. Take your time.

“There was a warehouse on the property,” Dick finally says, eyes fixed on the trees in front of him. “All the other outbuildings were empty, easy enough to get them ready for the sale, but behind the stable there was a big old bunker of a thing I didn’t remember when the real estate agent sent me the photos. All she told me at the time was that the guy who was managing the property had found some personal effects in there and needed access to Pop Haly’s list of addresses of former employees. It was full of shelves with crates and bins on them, labeled, personal things people didn’t want to take with them on the road. I didn't think anything of it, I didn't assume there'd be anything in there for me, so I just sent over the copy I had in the paperwork he left me. But it must have been old -"

"Because the address he had for you was here."

"Gibsonton was home base, see," Dick goes on. "The place they always came back to. Sometimes when you were going out on a long-haul, you might leave a box there for the crew to watch over, if there were things you didn’t want to get lost or broken from months of traveling in a caravan.”

His voice has been impressively steady up until now, but when Bruce hears it begin to break a little, he steps in to let Dick breathe for a moment.

“So the property manager went through the warehouse to ready it for sale,” he guesses, “and found a box with your name on it. Things you didn’t go back for, because you stayed here in Gotham and didn’t go back to Gibsonton when the rest of the circus did.”

“Not my name,” says Dick, and he reaches out for Bruce’s hand.

Bruce exhales deeply. “Oh.”

They sit there like that for a long time. The moon’s almost full. A faint breeze shivers through the tree nearest them - a dogwood, which always erupts into riotous white and pink blossoms each spring - and a few red-gold leaves flutter downward.

“They left a bunch of things in Gibsonton that they didn’t have room for anymore in the caravan after they had me,” Dick says. “Things from their life before.”

“I see.”

“Things that were fragile, or delicate, or just things that there wasn’t a daily use for, so they had to choose between that and, you know, diapers and a stroller and all that. We never had a lot of room. And going from two people to three people in the same tiny space -”

“Of course.”

“They left a lot of things behind,” Dick says, and there’s something strange in his voice. “They left a lot of things behind, to make room for me.”

Bruce turns and looks at him, and squeezes his hand. “You don’t need me to be the one to tell you that nothing they left behind in a cardboard box in Gibsonton, Florida was more precious to them than you were,” he says, “but I’ll say it anyway, if it would help you to hear it out loud.”

Dick gives him a fleeting, weary smile before moving in closer, resting his head on Bruce’s shoulder. At the implicit signal that Dick wants comfort, that proximity and touch are now more important than the distance and silence he’d seemed to require when he first sat down, Bruce puts his arm around him, letting Dick curl up into the massive, sturdy wall of his chest. It seems to ease something in the younger man, who lets out a long, exhausted sigh.

“The biggest thing in it was a lamp," Dick says. "The base is a glass elephant. Mom told me about it once. She’d had it in her bedroom as a little girl. She’d dreamed of joining the circus because she wanted to make friends with an elephant. They’re matriarchal, did you know that?”

“I did.”

“Mom had dreams as a little kid of a trapeze act starring her and a bunch of girl elephants. They would be her best friends, she said. It always made me laugh when she told me about it. They left the lamp in Florida after she got pregnant; Dad was afraid a kid running around a space that small would knock it over, and he knew it was special to her. He always said someday, after they’d retired, they’d buy a little house somewhere, and -”

Dick’s voice breaks off. Bruce squeezes his shoulder.

“We always think we have more time,” Bruce says simply.

Dick nods. “Yeah.”

“It’s nice that you have it now.”

“That was the biggest thing in there,” Dick says. “There were some antique-looking books, and a really old dress - like a prom dress maybe. And some jewelry - nothing, you know, fancy, they weren’t rich, but things that were special. A few pieces that I think were maybe my grandmother’s. I remember them from photos. And a glass box full of shells. They must have collected them somewhere. Maybe on vacations, or maybe when the circus was traveling and hit seaside towns. Dad always liked to go to the beach on days off if we could.”

He sits up, pulling away from Bruce a bit, and reaches into his pocket to pull something out of it - something small enough to fit inside his closed fist, which he doesn’t open right away.

“And then there was . . . there was something else.”

Bruce turns and looks at him. Dick’s eyes are thoughtful, and warm, and a little sad.

“I think she forgot it was in her jewelry box,” he says, looking down at his hand, still clenched tight around something Bruce can’t see. “She talked about it a lot, actually. She always believed she’d lost it somewhere. She wasn’t a terribly superstitious person, it wasn’t that, not really, but it was a habit. And it was special to her. She’d gotten it from her mother.” He opens his palm and looks down into it, but Bruce still can’t quite see what he’s holding. “And the first thing I thought when I opened the box . . .” He shakes his head suddenly, looking up at Bruce with his eyes suspiciously bright. “I’m not explaining this very well,” he says apologetically.

“Take as much time as you need,” says Bruce. 

Dick opens his palm all the way, and holds it out for Bruce to see. It’s a tiny gold oval, tarnished and faded. It looks very, very old. Bruce isn’t Christian, but he’s seen enough holy medals to know one when he’s looking right at it. And despite the fact that whatever graven image the medal once held is impossible to make out - probably long since worn down by decades' worth of fingers rubbing it for luck - he knows enough about Mary Grayson to make an educated guess.

“Saint Sarah?” he guesses. “Patron saint of the Romani.” Dick nods. “This was your grandmother’s?”

“At least,” says Dick. “Maybe older. Mom didn’t really know. She said that her mother gave it to her as a child, for protection, and told her that nothing bad could ever happen to her as long as she had it with her.” He closes his eyes. “She didn’t know it was in the jewelry box, she didn’t know it was in Gibsonton,” he says dully. “She thought she’d lost it. Used to joke about how that meant she was unlucky now. It was funny, when I was little. Every time she got stung by a bee or something went wrong at rehearsal or she was the only one in the whole circus who caught whatever cold was going around, she and Dad would laugh about it. ‘If only you’d had your Saint Sarah medal, this would never have happened.’” One bright tear wavers for a moment on his thick black lashes before falling. Bruce watches its slow progress over the rise of Dick’s cheekbone and down his jaw, wanting to kiss it away but uncertain whether that’s pushing the moment too far. “The medal was in the jewelry box all those years,” he whispers, “and they only left the jewelry box in Gibsonton because they had me.”

Bruce is a pretty good detective, true, but he also knows Dick Grayson better than anyone else in the world, and Dick doesn’t need to say it out loud for Bruce to know exactly what fear is haunting him.

“Your parents’ death was not your fault,” he says quietly, moving closer and leaning forward just enough to rest his forehead against Dick’s. “Even if your grandmother’s belief was provable, Dick, even if the medal truly was some kind of talisman invoking the protection of a patron saint - well, I know very little about saints, but I have a hard time imagining any of them granting or withholding their favor as capriciously as that. Your mother didn’t discard it, after all. She didn’t give up on Saint Sarah because the medal was lost. Perhaps she had her own kind of private rituals or devotions that she maintained in her own way.” He takes Dick’s empty hand and squeezes it. “Or perhaps she had less need of a talisman in her life to make her feel like the luckiest woman in the world,” he murmurs, “once her child was born and she realized how blessed she really was. Maybe she allowed herself to forget it because she didn’t need it anymore, the way she had when she was a child. Maybe it was all right for her to let it go. Mary Grayson always seemed to me like a woman who made her own luck. And her life was more than the worst thing that ever happened to her. She would be happy that her things have finally come home to you, Dick, but she would never, ever want you to blame yourself for being the reason that she’s gone.”

Dick sinks heavily against Bruce’s chest, not fully crying yet but not able to speak either. Bruce can feel the emotions pressing him down with a palpable weight. He’s so preoccupied with listening to Dick’s breathing to make sure it’s steady and he isn’t heading towards an anxiety attack, that at first he doesn’t notice the feeling of something small and warm and hard being pressed into the palm of his hand. 

He looks up at Dick, who closes Bruce’s fist around the medal and lays his own hand over it before lifting his head to meet Bruce’s eyes.

“I know you don’t believe in it,” he says. “I don’t even know if I believe in it. But I need you to take it. I need you to have this, Bruce. Keep it with you, and don’t let it go. I’ll sleep better if you do.”

“Dick -”

"I lost you once," Dick says roughly. "I'm not going to lose you again."

Bruce closes his eyes. He doesn't know what to say.

“If anything ever happened to you, and I wasn’t there,” Dick tries to say, but he can’t quite get the words out.

“Dick,” Bruce says softly. “I’m honored to hold a piece of your family’s history. I’m honored to have this. It’s priceless to me, to have something in my life that belonged to your parents. I don’t want you to think that I don’t . . .” He swallows hard. “That I don’t know what this means.”

That your family is my family. That my family is your family. That if they were alive today, Mary Grayson would be my mother-in-law one day and Martha Wayne would be yours. That it would matter to you, that much, what they thought of me, and what I thought of them.

“So yes,” Bruce says. “I’ll keep this. I’ll keep it forever. I’ll treasure it. But I don’t need a talisman to protect me and keep me safe, Dick. I already have you. And you’re all I need.”

#brudick #brudick fic #my fic #fic prompts #from the inbox #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batman #nightwing #bruce wayne x dick grayson #brucedick

[subtly-shakespearean]

Trans Martin hc’s are all fun and games until you remember why his mother hated him

#martin always looked more similar to his dad... and then he started T #and then every single day his mother would watch her son look more and more like him #oof amirite? #just a fun little rabbit hole to venture down #trans martin blackwood #martin blackwood #tma #the magnus archives #the magnus archives season 4 #tma season 4

[hyuneytoast]

Hearts of Roses || Scene 2

⇢𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 》 “Don’t forget about the thorns.”

In which you stumble upon Wonderland and the Prince of Hearts. How you end up in Wonderland is something explained as complete nonsense, but also quite simple; Just a key and a door. What if it’s not easy to return from Wonderland, though? A locked door and a lost key; now surely that’s not so bad if it weren’t for the Queen of Hearts’ threatening intentions.

⇢𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓼 》 Prince of Hearts!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader, Fantasy AU, Alice in Wonderland AU, Stranger to Lovers, Fluff, Slight Angst

⇢𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 》 Explicit language

⇢𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 》(Let me know if you want to be added!)

@danyxthirstae01​   @sailorhyunjinz​   @rapilne​   @peachy-maia​   @hyunj1nn133​

𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽  ||  𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼  ||  𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽

II.

You stumble pass the door, feet being met with, in a way, familiar grounds. Once again, towering mushrooms and a dense forest greet you. The sunlight filters through the canopy and casts itself messily around. You let your skin soak the soft warmth as you stand there for a good solitary minute. Were you really returning? Should you continue to be here? You have no clue, but you can confirm that Wonderland and the people you’ve met have never once left your mind. A good excuse for your terrible lack of sleep last night too. It’d be a shame too if you weren’t to show up when Hyunjin asked you to with evident hope, right?

“Returning, I see? Seems like Wonderland has turned you into a madly, vulnerable fool now,”  An unforgettable voice laughs in amusement. Your eyes scan each branch in search of the cat-like acquaintance.

“I’m not always in a tree, you know. I’m over here~”

In front, a grinning figure slowly appears in front of you, now sitting upon the grass. And hell, even considering the magical hole you dug yourself into, you doubt you’d ever get used to his “tricks.”

“Hello again, Minho.”

“I’ve been expecting you in the back of my head.”

“You’d know I come back?”

“Of course! I was watching your goodbyes last night ’til I spent this morning in dread, listening to two idiots speak about you.” Minho crosses his arms against the back of his head while falling slowly aback, laying in the green.

“Who?”

“That’s not important; your life does not depend on knowing so therefore I have no need to tell. But I do must say, one of those idiots are waiting for you. Ah yes, our dear prince is disgustingly waiting for you with heartening patience,” He frowns with closed eyes, faking a gag.

“O-oh. Well—”

“If you desire to be pathetic like him, I suggest you begin wandering off at this very second in the opposite way.”

The cat boy and his irritating habits of interrupting and insisting you to leave makes you let out a low, hopeless sigh. “Now? I still don’t know my way around or where exactly to go. I don’t think wandering around aimlessly is… the wisest decision either.”

“Now surely you didn’t fully think that thought yesterday, did you? If I remember clearly, you left with a smile. Besides, reasons like that, Y/N, make everything more fun! Surprises here and surprises there!” Minho cackles before is resting figure vanishes out of sight.

You frantically look around, but all fails when you find yourself permanently alone once again. “Whatever,” You grumble.

And just like that, your feet move aimlessly in an unknown direction, the opposite of where you went with the dark rabbit, Changbin, yesterday. Wandering and wandering, and deeper in the forest you go; no sense of direction but surely a sight of wonders. Once you get a taste of something, you go back for more. That is very much like your current situation. Not like you actually have a choice though since you have no clue of how to get back on your own.

Tickling below your knees, the breeze creates a rhythm having the tall grass swaying back and forth and your hair gently dancing along too. Incredibly huge butterflies prance along, wings glistening like the day’s sky. You admire the mushrooms from enormous to tiny. Perhaps you poke some of their squishy caps too, smiling to yourself at the fun feeling and aspect. Is it wrong to say that in an unknown somewhere full of mysterious madness, your soul still manages to be put at ease? Maybe it’s the magical atmosphere, or the forest’s serenity that you could never experience in the city. Perhaps it’s both that isn’t so wrong either. An escape from a harsh world; such an opportunity practically pleads you to blissfully wander day by day.

Against the lush green and patches of dirt, a trail of bright red splatters and puddles trail ahead to the left. Appearing to be too colorfully reflective to be considered blood, thoughts immediately recall last night’s encounter with the prince. Red paint! Your feet reroute you along the crimson trail. Curiosity taking over each inch, not to mention, the doubts of possible dangers awaiting at the end. You hear a cheery hum as you walk around a huge bush of roses; similar to last night’s but wilder, more lush. Your eyes meet with a familiar individual that just may have made your heart skip a beat without a warning.

“Y-Y/N?” Hyunjin marvels, mentally sighing in joyous relief.

“Hi, Hyunjin.” If Minho were here, he’d certainly wouldn’t hesitate to mock, or maybe even smack, the grin upon your face.

“Oh how brightly I am shocked to see you have returned very much sooner before my eyes than I have expected,” The boy rambles with a smile he can’t hold back, fumbling to settle the red-dipped paintbrush and palette on top a giant, flat stone.

“Yes, it seems that yesterday was more than enough to convince me,” You respond rather sheepishly.

“Quite happy to hear that as much as I now know I can keep my promise. Now, um, kindly, asking, may I?” Despite the nervousness mixed in with his soft tone, Hyunjin eagerly holds his hand out (which you notice is decked with a few silver rings), but still patiently waiting for a response.

You nod, placing your hand in his large one, cold skin sheltering yours. He gently tugs you around the stone and tall rose bush, revealing a part of the forest containing the most mushrooms you have seen so far.

“What about your paint?”

“That, my dear, can surely wait longer than all of us in Wonderland combined. Besides, you mean far more than all my replaceable paint.” He flashes you a smile while giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Now when was the last time you felt like… this? Felt like whatever this is that you’re feeling. Your words stuck in your throat and all confidence shying away; A desire to bury your heated face in the comfort of your blankets along with tying your hand with Hyunjin’s, never wanting to let go of such simple yet heart bursting touch.  Oh god, Y/N, calm down—

“Y/N?! And our dear prince, Hyunjin? Why, what ever are you doing here?”

The two of you snap your gazes to the ringing voice on your right, a red-haired male standing under tall mushrooms with a covered basket in hand. He cocks his head to the side, giving off a few rushed blinks.

“Bang Chan, lovely you meet you once again.”

“Likewise, Y/N!” He flashes you a grin and a small wave.

“Ah, my dear friend! You have caught us as I was making my way to reveal Y/N the garden!”

“The garden? Oh, the garden! Yes! What a sight to behold once you get there, like a rainbow palace that makes me promise you won’t regret the adventure!” Chan gives a small clap before waving his basket. “Not a similar treat, but I was on my way to deliver a few things to Felix.”

“Felix?” You question the slightly familiar name, but you can’t recall encountering him yesterday’s tea party.

“Yes, Felix!” Chan chimes as if he was just asked one of the most precious questions. “He’s one of the most beloved bakers in Wonderland, role done at the castle’s kitchen. A dear friend to many as well, hard not to be friends with him if I must say.”

“Yes, yes, but let’s not forget about me,” slightly whines Hyunjin. “And correction, hard for you to not be friends with everyone. We’ll visit Felix and I’ll make sure you meet him, Y/N. But that shall be for another day when the sun hangs as now, we mustn’t waste any more time. Farewell, Chan!” Still holding your hand, he tugs you forward to where you previously left off.

“I’ll be sure to see you again, Chan!” You glance over your shoulder, giving him a bright face.

“Farewell!”

Small conversations fill up the time that’s basking under the tattered sunlight, feet now walking on a stone trail where the forest seems to set clear into a field. Who knew venturing to a garden could grant so much little details about a person? The two of you would exchange questions that were yearning to be answered. He’d ask you about the different opportunities in your world to your favorite things, like flowers and colors. You’d ask the same, along with your curiosities of his royal heir. Turns out, he’s the next in line for the throne and his favorite color is red. Turns out, he dreams of someday owning a dog.

Little things like that.

“I’m assuming this is it?” Stopped in the tracks, you stand before a stone archway supporting dark wooden doors with black iron handles. Green vines ravel around the tall arch and stone walls, small pink blossoms appearing every here and there.

Hyunjin releases your hand, clapping joyously with crescent eyes. “Yes, we have most certainly arrived!” He steps forward, pulling the door out and gesturing towards the opening. “After you, my lady!”

“Thank you!”

You make your way pass the entrance, now entering a world splashed with even more vibrant colors. Blossoming trees stand tall, small shrubs dotted with warm-colored flowers, and bushes branching high wrapped in every color a garden could possibly hold. Few smooth stone benches are neatly placed throughout and behind the stone trail that’s willing to take your around the base of the garden, willing to show you as much as Hyunjin is. Intaking even further little wonders: The small bright caterpillars resting on leaves, red birds chirping their melody, sapphire-blue butterflies visiting, and flowers consisting of either loosely flared petals or neatly compact ones. Even the gentle breeze puffing through makes the garden more alive as it slowly sways.

The sight alone leaves you breathless. Leaves you breathless as it should for being such a lush garden you’ve never thought you’d ever see. Like one that jumped out of a fairytale book. Like one that has been experiencing an everlasting season of Spring.

One step after another and many more. A reaching hand, pointing out to a branch holding small white flowers, petals in a formation of a star.

“I insist you smell this one, it’s one of my favorite scents.”

Fingers gently wrapping around the branch, you pull it slightly down in your face, nose up against the blossom that it tickles your skin. The scent is soft, but still rich in a sensual sweetness. With a helpless smile, you turn to Hyunjin’s face which is rather quite closer than you recall, catching you a bit off guard but still leaving you to maintain composure.

“I see why it’s one of your favorites, it smells very pleasant.”

“Indeed.” His hot breath is felt against your skin, brown twinkling eyes adoring into yours, but only to be pulled away as a hysterical laugh booms from outside the walls.

“Fucking hell,” Mutters Hyunjin who has nothing but disappointment plastered upon his face. “Why must the world be so cruel when all I want is to show you peacefully around.”

“It’s okay, I certainly don’t mind. Unexpected company or not, I am without a doubt enjoying myself here,” You assure the boy, lightly patting his shoulder.

The dark doors open with a small creak, the iron handle given a clinking sound. The garden is now accompanied by three, the extra uninvited guest standing and peering at the two of you, face offering no emotion. The man’s finger scratches the side of his head of disheveled black hair. He stands tall, wearing what seems to be a spade card of seven draped over a black attire.

“Your majesty, I kindly expect to be informed about this situation here,” The stranger speaks huskily, face remaining still as stone.

“I assure you not to worry. I am spending the day with a very good friend of mine, nothing in the absurd. Now, what has had you sent here?”

“The Queen demands a fresh bouquet of fine red roses for tomorrow’s banquet, and with such the finely wild roses here, I bound to return to the castle after picking them.”

Hyunjin chuckles, hand slipping down to grab a hold of yours. “Quite a coincidence! You may go ahead as my dear friend and I were actually preparing to leave.” A lie. Definitely a lie since Hyunjin planned on staying for at least an hour more of telling you tales about the flowers. “Let’s go, Y/N,” He whispers in your ear, which most certainly doesn’t raise any suspicion from the newcomer or any confusion from you at all…

He leads you to exit the garden, hand gripping yours gently but firmly, and footsteps noticeably hurried, nervous one might manage point out. The other male just moves his head, fiercely glaring over his shoulder right into your eyes. That there just shares an anxious shiver down your spine. Everyone seemed more than friendly, or that is, until he approached. The intimidating sight disappears as Hyunjin closes the door behind, now letting out a sigh. A sigh of what? Relief or panic, perhaps both Hyunjin might answer.

Continuing to pull you forward back to where you previously came from, you quietly clear your throat, asking, “What was that about?”

There obviously was something off in the atmosphere once the strange man dressed as a card entered. The short visited garden due to the cold glares and insisted exits, a nervous undertone from your friend.

“I deeply apologize, darling. I did not plan on getting your hopes high only to leave so soon. I’m sorry for any uncomfortable feelings.” He sighs once again, head hanging low. A purposely dodged question, but an uttermost sincere apology to note.

You were itching to ask the question once again of what really had happened, but peering at him and taking notice of the frown that never left his face, you knew better than to. Looking slightly down with eyebrows knitted, he’s clearly deep in thought, and if only you could, you’d even see the worry dancing around in his eyes. Aside from this, something in the air already told you it’d be best to leave the conversation as is. So, to your unfortunates, you push all your questions of concern to the back of your head.

“It’s not a worry at all. Though the time was short, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this happy. So, very much, thank you, Hyunjin! This day still doesn’t fail to come to my appreciations.”

“A relief to hear that, so thank you. If you ache to see more as much as I, perhaps I could take you somewhere else? There’s a lovely river not too far; dozens of rose bushes remain untainted.  I could take you there if you’d like. Maybe we could paint too.” He returns your gaze, his frown washed away, but bites his lip from nervousness. “B-but, if you’re not comfortable with that or want to go home, I-I can take you, it’s n-not a problem!”

“No, it’s okay, I promise!” A guilty pleasure: Hearing his stutters and seeing the tips of his ears burning red; It’s adoring to be the most honest. “I’d love to visit the river with the roses you speak of.”

The clouds faintly hang above in the soft pink and purple hued blue. There wasn’t all day left, but like dangerously piling berries in a basket or collecting more flowers than your hands are meant to hold, there still was time to stretch and spend until the last ounce.

And with all worries dissipated, he looks at you with a tender smile and crescent eyes.

And once again, such a look from him doesn’t miss to make your heart flutter.

“AH! So, the truthful words you dare to spill, my own son with such a girl! And despite being cornered in the garden, you dare not to get a hold of her?” Shrieks a high-pitched voice followed by frenzied giggles, all echoing off the castle’s marble walls.

“Your majesty, it did not seem the wisest choice at the time! Making such an impression that has a chance of failing? Why, the prince wouldn’t even let me approach her from several feet away! And—”

“You never fail to surprise me, always going about and missing opportunities like a mad fool with only a crooked mind. Especially when you bring me this news! You’ve outdone yourself, surely!” The Queen bursts out in even louder cackles, her head thrown back against the throne. The man of a seven spades card stands before her, hands fumbling around and nervously chuckling, unsure if he should join in on the laughter and unsure of his next move. The Queen then snaps, straightening her posture, leering with eyes that could nearly tear the guard apart themselves.  

“YOU GODDAMN PRICK!!!” Everyone standing within the throne room flinches, which the Queen proudly notices. “Look! Look! I can promise next time will be worse if this girl isn’t in my grasp by the next four weeks! I can’t have the prince abandoning his duties and own throne like this nor does she even belong here. I truly cannot let my Wonderland given to her just like that!”

Every word is spit out with passion. Sinisterly passion. Pure insanity from the Queen of Hearts.

“Perhaps she isn’t as bad as most of us assume, your majesty. Perhaps! You should at least get to know of her and her capabilities,” Suggests the seven spades guard whose trying everything in his strength to not tremble under the intimidating gaze.

“I will gladly take your opinion, but I do have a request or two.”

“Yes, what ever is it you’d like me to do?”

“Follow them. Follow her! I’d like to know everything possible, from her effect on the Prince to how she even got here. But! You hollow-minded fool, please do be most utterly discreet about it.”

“As you wish, your majesty.”

#hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin oneshot #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #skz ff #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz x you #hwang-hyunjin-x-reader #hwang hyunjin

[roxytonic]

I think we joined the fandom around the same time, what the hell, I thought you'd been around for like at least a year if not since 2020 😭

were you on any other platforms before tumblr? your blog archive goes back to August 2021 (i joined a few months before) 👀

anyway i've consumed some MCYT content and derivative works in 2020, yeah, but i wasn't properly in the fandom. i sometimes wish i joined a little earlier, but i just never heard or cared much about it until...

October 24th, 2020: the topic of MCYT comes up in the friend group Discord server

nonny (pseud): "dream team erotica is hilarious"

khan (also a pseud): "i didnt know you read dream team erotica"

me: "hi everyone. my clown ass really thought "dream team" referred to mario and luigi dream team and not the minecraft dream team. i will now be heading down a dream team erotica rabbit hole. [nonny], send me the AO3 link, i'm too boomer for this."

October 26th, 2020: another friend sends nurpo's DNF fanfiction list (the original one) which i read through. so fun!

November, December 2020: on twitter, i follow two of my artist friends who were making MCYT fanart and intersect with mcyttwt a couple of times (like stupid argument in trending page). the friend that sent nurpo's DNF fanfiction list sends a link to georgesoot's tumblr, which was called dreamwasfound then. skimmed it for about 5 minutes, uncomfortable with the unusually critical tone--but was grateful it existed, since Dream's following seemed to be growing more dangerous and difficult to deal with.

January 2021: dreamwasfound moves the URL to georgesoot and i realize that i may have to make a Tumblr account to try and keep up if they change their URL again. (georgesoot has been georgesoot since this change. currently, georgesoot2 is the original georgesoot.) i do not make a new account.

i don't remember what happened between January 2021 and April 2021 in terms of mcyt. i might've still been poking at mcyttwt's asinine arguments occasionally.

April 2021: i am still curious about georgesoot. i make the roxytonic account and see that he has been deactivated. (legal troubles, i heard. 😉) still, i wonder if he was a part of some larger group of people dedicated to being critical about CCs.

April 19th, 2021: i rename this tumblr account "roxytonic" and venture into mcytblr. i search up about georgesoot, find some lore about their group, and speculate that the more critical blogs (at that time, i knew of georgesoot, warpedfungusonastick, and fruityranboo/gaypilled) are in a federation that interact with each other but are not necessarily united in a personal group. (when i said i thought they were colleagues, this was a cautious estimation, as i had no idea what was happening behind-the-scenes and only looked at their workplace-esque interactions online.) it would be months later that i learn that these three blogs--and others!--were actually in a friend group together.

the rest is history from there. but i still wouldn't say i was ever a "proper" part of the fandom even with this blog because i just never invested much time into watching the content and the streams.

#gin and roxytonic #bicondringa #mcyt #mcytblr #long post

[ssson-of-sparda]

Strawberry Sundae

Summary: It's story time! Have you ever wondered why Dante affectionate strawberry sundaes so much? Well Patty has and luckily for her, he is about to tell her. It will just cost her a small favour. A man got to pay his debts remember.

Tags: ANGST (but with some very cute moments) / Dante’s childhood /  childhood trauma 

Author’s note: This is my take on Dante’s origins and also my first time writing for the Devil May Cry fandom. I hope I did it right and that you will love it. Set whenever you want but definitely after the DMC Anime. I made the reader female (in case I write a sequel. I have ideas for one, just tell me if you want one), but it can definitely be read as Gen!Reader if you make some small changes.

           To most people Patty Lowell looked so cute and angelic with her girly lacy dresses and her silk ribbons in her baby blond hair they’d think butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. But to Dante, she was the most annoying brat that ever walked this earth and, even though he would never admit it, also one of his dearest friends. And like all his friends, he owed her big.             “I’ll erase that from your tab.” She said as she swallowed a spoonful of vanilla ice cream.   “Oh c’mon! You keeping counts now?” Dante harrumphed and watched the kid wipe her mouth like a very distinguished lady. “You spend too much time with Lady.”   “Not too much. Just enough to know you owe me a trip to the beach, two dresses, a dozen ice cream cones and six strawberries sundaes” She counted on her fingers and Dante sighed as he slouched in the fake-leather seat of Freddy’s diner. “Well, you can’t have it all now, can you?”       “You’ve been saying this for months. And for months you’ve been eating hundreds of sundaes and bought none for me.” She grumbled, staring at him with a pout as he nonchalantly took the strawberry on top of his sundae to eat it, eyes closed to savour the sweetness of the fruit in his mouth. “What’s with your obsession with strawberry sundaes anyway?” She asked, genuinely curious. After all, even after spending so much time with Dante, watching him evolve in his natural habitat (meaning the Devil May Cry) and coming to the conclusion that Dante was a very unique species of man, one that whose diet was only based on pizzas and strawberry sundaes and that knew nothing of women, Patty still hadn’t figured why he was the way he was.   Dante opened an eye to see her impatiently waiting for an answer. “If I tell you, would you consider erasing … let’s say six sundaes of my tab?” He smirked, knowing Patty would not resist the curiosity to know more about him.             “That could be arranged. But your story better be good!”

STRAWBERRY SUNDAE

                 One more step and this would be the furthest Dante had ever been from his house. Of course, he had dared follow Vergil down to that weird old man’s house to secretly spy on his brother, wondering what was so interesting and fun in keeping a wrinkly company but he had never stepped a foot in the city. Never could. The only time he had tried and had somehow managed to go down the hill of his red home without tumbling down the steep rocky stairs and lay even just a toe on the urban pavement he was now standing on, his father and his sharp demonic earring had found him and brought him back home with a firm grip around the collar of his white shirt. Sparda had scolded him so much that day that even Vergil hadn’t dared smirking.       But here he was. Wet, trembling and cold, under a pouring rain, wondering where to go, what to do, both feet on the pavement, his tiny arms holding on tight to his father’s sword which was way bigger than he was. He had never been so terrified, so alert, his blue eyes widened and scanning all his surroundings in every direction possible like a poor defenceless animal fearing for its life, wondering if a deadly predator was secretly watching him crouched in the thickest shadow, the same kind of predator that took his mother and brother away from him.                 He wanted to call for help, ask someone, anyone for guidance but he didn’t know whom to trust or if he could trust anyone. All he knew was that he had to be strong, that he had to be a big boy, a man. That’s what his mother had told him before leaving, before … A tear streamed down his childish face. Not the first one tonight. He wiped it with his sooty knuckle but a new one appeared, bigger and more painful. It stung his eye and he cried harder. A devil should not cry but he was so tired. And he wanted his mama. And he wanted his big brother. But they were gone and behind him, his house up the hill was just a pile of smoking ash and burnt bricks.            

“Why are you crying?” Dante jumped and his small yet strong grip grabbed a hold of Rebellion’s hilt. It took his eyes a short second to fall upon the face of a little girl holding a green frog-shaped umbrella above both their heads. “Are you lost?”  She said as she tried to catch a glimpse of Dante’s face hidden behind layers of soot and wet hair. “Is it a real sword?”         “Don’t touch it!” Dante growled, pressing his father’s sword tighter against his chest, shielding it from the curious child as she tried to put her fingers on the legendary weapon. It had seen Vergil do that countless of times. And though it never worked with him, it formidably worked with the child in front of him. “It’s my dad’s.”         “Is your dad a knight?” She questioned with amazed (colour) eyes, imagining heroes in shining armours resembling the ones in the stories her mother would read her before bed. “My dad is the Legendary Dark Knight.” Dante spat, scowling behind his silver hair falling over his eyes, a pitiful and vain attempt at sending the little girl packing. After all, to her eyes, he didn’t look impressive at all, more like a wet small kitten that someone had abandoned in the street.     She shrugged “My dad doesn’t have a sword and he is not a legendary dark prince or whatever but he has a mighty spatula and his strawberry sundaes are the best in the whole kingdom!” She exclaimed with an over-the-top enthusiasm that made Dante’s weary frown even more pronounced. “That’s the name of my father’s diner.” She pointed at the pinkish red neon sign across the street. Kingdom’s diner. “You’re hungry?” Dante thought he wasn’t until he heard a rumbling in his tummy. Yes, maybe he was even though his heart was preoccupied by other things than hunger. “Come on. Follow me.”         He hesitated for a few seconds, watching the girl cross the crowded street in her way-too-large yellow oilskin - which was probably not hers now that he thought about it – and feeling the rain pouring on his shivering body again. “Well? What are you waiting for?”           With one last look at his destroyed home up on the hill, Dante finally took a step towards the girl waiting for him by the warm neon lights of the diner. And he took another step, and another, feeling a weird weight forming in his stomach. A mix of apprehension and hope. Apprehension of what’s waiting in this unknown land and hope that his father would suddenly appear and bring him back home. But once more, Sparda never showed up and the child was left alone.   Dante had never ventured that far away from home but he had no home anymore, right?

                 The diner was warm and cosy, with red plastic booth seats and speckled grey linoleum-covered tables that were incredibly clean and shiny. On the walls there were vintage-like pictures of old cars, old advertisements and old Hollywood stars who were almost all complete strangers to Dante apart from a glamorous blond woman with a weird mole and another one with a tiara and a cigarette holder. Pretty sure he had seen them both in some boring movies he had seen – or slept through - with his mother and Vergil. Mama. Vergil. He missed them already. Terribly.

A new tear fell along his cold cheek and Dante looked down, devastated that he would never see them again; guilty that he could not save them, angry that his father had not been there to protect them. And with his wet sorrow came scorching flashes and piercing screams. But soon they were covered by the sound of weird music sizzling in a machine that looked like from another time. “I always listen to music when I feel bad. I like music. Do you like music?” She was impossibly chatty but deep down Dante knew it was only to take his mind off whatever she thought he was thinking about. After all, he would use the same trick on his brother. “There are a hundred of songs in this jukebox.” So that was this hellish machine was. A jukebox. “Pick one. I’ll make some strawberry sundae” She smiled and disappeared behind the counter which was way too high for Dante to see what she was doing. “Oh but don’t play the music too loud. My parents are sleeping upstairs.”  

He didn’t know how it worked but he thought that pushing a button would do the trick. And so he did. And he almost fell on his butt when the jukebox started shaking and doing weird sizzling noises. Had he just broken it? “I… I” He mumbled pointing at the machine and the girl’s childish head popped up from behind the counter a bit like a funny rabbit leaves his hole. “Kick it!” She said and Dante looked at her, harrumphed and unsure he had heard right. His mother never allowed him to kick anything … especially not Vergil … and he kicked Vergil a lot … because he deserved it.                 “There!” The girl approached and gave the dying machine a small yet firm kick that made it come back to life. “It does that sometimes.”

“What’s with all the racket?” A loud voice growled and a man with tousled and sparse black hair appeared from upstairs. Only wearing an old navy blue robe over a white t-shirt and a pair of checked slippers, he looked asleep and yet angry. “Y/N what are you doing … up?” His somewhat aggressiveness turned into confusion when he saw Dante standing next to his beloved daughter.  He blinked a couple times and shook his head to make sure he was perfectly awake and not dreaming. What was this boy doing in his restaurant? All wet and covered in soot? “Who are you?” He managed to voice.       Dante opened his mouth though unsure what to answer. “He’s my friend.” The girl replied. “Your friend?” She nodded vigorously. “I was making him a strawberry sundae.”

If there was two things Mister Y/LN had a soft spot for, it was food – sugary and greasy food – and his precious daughter Y/N. She was his little princess, his only daughter, the apple of his eye (even when there was sleep crust in its corner like right now). He could not refuse her anything and could not stay mad at her for more than a couple of minutes to the great disappointment of his wife.  And even though he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t help it.           “Y/N” He sighed and went to kneel in front of his daughter. “You cannot invite a little boy that late at night. I’m sure his parents must be very worried.” He glanced at Dante who looked down his brown boots hiding his eyes yet again behind his silver hair. What curious hair. “But since he is here, let’s eat those strawberry sundaes.” The little girl grinned and ran back to finish her creamy dessert with an enthusiasm that made the man smile for a small second.

Even though Mister Y/LN was weak for his daughter he was still a man of reason. Something deep in his guts was telling him something was wrong with that kid and the last thing he wanted was trouble. Who was he? Where did he come from? What happened to him? Where were his parents? Was he some kind of street kid? A child of drug dealers from the rough areas of Red Grave? Should he call the police? Maybe so. Certainly so. They would certainly know what to do. It was their job after all. He was just a cook, a sleepy cook. What could he do, except offering that scrawny kid a strawberry sundae? “Why don’t you sit, boy?” He waved at the stool and Dante climbed on it without saying a word. “I’ll be right back.”

“So what’s your name?” The little girl said as she placed two coupe glasses filled with cream, ice cream and strawberries right before Dante’s eyes that immediately ogled at the dessert with greediness. So much sugar, so much cream, so many strawberries. He loved chocolate, but this, this looked like even better than chocolate and his stomach seemed to agree.       Excited to taste it, he went to grab the spoon that was placed by the couple but was immediately stopped. “Wait. I’m not done.” Y/N shouted and, with a frown and the tip of her pink tongue out, cautiously topped both sundaes with a cherry and two pink wafers. “There. Now you can eat it.” She barely had time to finish the sentence that Dante quickly stuffed a generous spoonful in his tiny mouth. OH GOD! If his mother saw him right now eating so much sugar in the middle of the night she would be furious. But this was the most delicious thing in the world. After pizza of course.       He ate another spoonful, and another, humming after each, as he was slowly reaching a comforting sugary paradise. “I’m guessing you like it.” The little girl giggled, laughing at his mouth as round as a balloon and the cream running from the corner of his lips. Dante froze at the laugh and stare at her with a blush creeping up his inflated cheeks until he swallowed with a big gulp. “Yeah.” He confessed and Y/N smiled at the small amount of joy she caught in his childish voice.   “You still haven’t told me your name. I’m Y/N by the way.” She reached out to shake his hand and Dante stared at it for a few seconds, remembering what his mother had told him as she hid him a wardrobe.

You must change your name. Forget your past and start a new life as someone else. But who could he be? And could he be someone else? After all, he had always been Dante, the restless daredevil son of Sparda and Eva and annoying little brother to Vergil who always picked a fight for fun and found ways to be involved in new kinds of mischiefs.               There was a silence, heavy and pregnant, as the boy tried to answer the questions in his confused little head and as the girl patiently waited for him to talk. And only the lively music from the jukebox could be heard in the room. And it sang to Dante ‘Hey there Anthony boy. Why are you in such a rush (go!). The girl, she wanna talk to you. Look at him, how he blush (go!)�� giving birth to his new identity. A new beginning.               “I’m Anthony.” He finally grabbed her hand and she shook it with a smile that he tried to mimic. An effort he thought he would have never done tonight but that he did for her. Calm down, Tony me boy. “Tony for short.”         “Well nice to meet you, Tony. I’m sure we’re going to be good friends.”

And with a new spoonful of strawberry sundae he said goodbye to Dante. Hey there, Anthony boy!

***

“That was a lovely story, Dante. Sad but lovely.” Patty finally declared after being incredibly silent during Dante’s childhood story. A first. “Glad you liked it.” Dante said with a small smile that was barely concealing the sadness that this memory had brought back. “So does that mean those six sundaes are off my tab?”               “I guess so.” She shrugged as she drank the ice cream in her coupe. “Great.” He winked and stood up, throwing a bill on the table before putting his long red coat on.  “So … you love strawberry sundaes because they were the first things that gave you comfort after you lost your mom?”           “No, I love strawberry sundaes because they remind me why humans are sometimes worth fighting for.”

But mostly, he liked them because they reminded him of someone who had helped him build a new life, someone who had given him kindness, generosity and love when he thought that all he could expect from life was sorrow and pain. They reminded him of you.     Yes, that’s why he loved strawberry sundaes.

#devil may cry #dante #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dante fanfiction #dante x reader #strawberry sundae

[pascalls]

Are We Running Out of Time?

Helen is out of town and Charlie has an idea for a fun night out. Sometimes, the reverend just has to live a little.

{ Charlie x Lovejoy fic }

Playlist:

Running With the Wolves - AURORA

Pools - Glass Animals

despair - leo.

Stranded Lullaby - Miracle Musical

Dinner & Diatribes - Hozier

Tomorrow Never Came - Lana Del Ray/Sean Ono Lennon

Read it beneath the cut!

He felt a little like an opportunist.

Perhaps he was. When he’d heard that Helen was going out of town with her daughter - Jessica, he remembered - Charlie hadn’t wasted much time in formulating a train of thought that would eventually take him right to the reverend’s front door. It was a bold move that he hadn’t done before, especially since he’d been sleeping elsewhere for the last few weeks. Very few and far in between were the nights that he spent underneath Tim’s train table. Maybe that’s why this felt so nerve wracking.

But with Helen gone, what was the harm? She’d never be the wiser, so long as Charlie was smart. And he’d done his homework; made sure he knew exactly when Helen was leaving and bide his time until he was certain she would be long gone, leaving the reverend alone in his large and not-so-humble abode. It was only when the evening sun began to sink beneath the distant horizon that Charlie made his way to the home and gave the front door a knock. He fought the urge to pace while he waited, ears swiveling forward as the sound of footsteps neared. Straightening up, the hybrid did his best to hide any sign that he’d been at all nervous as the door opened and he was met with the less-than-enthused Timothy Lovejoy, decked from head to toe in his ‘conductor’ garb. He’d been interrupted, obviously. But Charlie didn’t let it faze him.

“...You really should be wearing something to hide those,” was all Tim said, pointing at Charlie’s long rabbit ears.

“It’s getting dark out. They’re fine,” Charlie replied without skipping a beat. “I came to get you outta your train hole for a while.”

“What makes you think I want to get out of my…” Lovejoy shook his head. He wasn’t going to dignify train hole with a response.

“Oh c’mon. The wife’s gone and you’re just gonna sit and do what you would’ve been doing anyway? Let’s go out! Go do something that she would pitch a fit about if she was here, huh?” Charlie’s mischievous grin and slight tail waggle gave away his enthusiasm. Internally, he wondered, if Lovejoy would have the gall - or the courage - to take him up on the offer. But he wouldn’t let the man see him doubt.

Tim sighed, glancing from Charlie back into his house and then back out at the giddy hybrid. A ‘no’ lingered on the tip of his tongue, but it was snatched away from him when he looked out, spying a sporty-looking bright red motorcycle sitting out in the middle of his driveway.

“Is that yours?” He asked, not answering Charlie’s invitation, but stepping out onto the porch and venturing out onto the driveway, eyeing the bike with skepticism - and interest.

Charlie fought the urge to lie, shaking his head. “Just borrowing it from a friend. Told him I’d bring it back in one piece, but I wanted to make sure that I’d make you an offer you couldn’t refuse.” The hybrid elbowed the reverend gently in the side, allowing Tim to circle the bike and make up his mind, in the process.

“...Alright, but not a word to anyone. And if you even run a single red light, I’m driving.” It was a reluctant agreement, but one nonetheless, and Charlie did his best to not grin like a fool as Tim retreated back inside to change, donning his usual pink shirt and tie affair. One that Charlie didn’t think altogether appropriate.

As Tim approached, Charlie went right ahead and reached out, tugging the tie off of the reverend and rolling it up gently, shoving it right into his own pocket.

“You’ll get it back at the end of the night, you big square. C’mon.” It was a tease - and a challenge - as Charlie clambered onto the bike and kicked it to life, the deep rumble of the engine sending tingles up his clawed toes. It had been a considerable time since he’d driven anything, but he’d always preferred vehicles of the two-wheeled sort over four. So he had no problem offering a hand to Tim as he awkwardly positioned himself on the back of the bike, embarrassed and bothered, but only huffing once or twice before settling in.

“Where are we going?” He asked, the words nearly choked from his throat as Charlie pulled away from the Lovejoy household and roared steadily down the street. The hybrid didn’t kick into high gear just yet - they needed to get a little further away from suburbia for that. Instead, he pointed to a backpack which hung off the side of the bike, bulging with the weight of its contents.

“First, there’s a helmet in there. Your head needs more protecting than mine,” Charlie called over the sound of the engine, pleased that Tim didn’t seem to argue. The last thing he needed was to cart the reverend home with a head injury. It wasn’t until he’d placed the helmet snuggly over that nicely coiffed hair that Charlie provided him with an answer. “I want you to see the kinds of sights I get to see all the time!”

Lovejoy frowned to himself. He didn’t know what that meant, but he was given precious little time for a verbal back and forth with the hybrid as they flew out of the subdivision and headed for the highway. As the road opened and the traffic flow ebbed with the approach of the night, their speed steadily climbed. It was clear that they were not staying nested within Springfield. And there was no real insulated space for them to have a conversation. All the man could do was hold tight to the hybrid and try not to regret his decision to come along. He wondered, absently, if it had been better to just stay with his train set.

But as he felt the slight flexing of the hybrid’s midsection in his arms, he lost his train of thought.

------------

It felt like almost an hour had passed before they slowed again, the feeling of zipping in and out of lanes still making the reverend’s stomach do a few interesting flips as Charlie steered them away from the main roads and down what looked to be a sandy, almost hidden path. The sound of the engine’s roar was quickly replaced by the roar of a different kind, and before too long, Lovejoy’s vision was filled with dark, flowing waves, illuminated only by the light of a sparse assortment of street lights and the glow of the rising moon.

“The beach? Charlie, it’s the middle of May. And it’s night.”

Charlie could only allow himself a little huff of amusement. “Yeah, I got eyes too, Tim.”

The hybrid veered off the path and down onto the sand, though he was careful not to get too close to the water. The tires struggled enough away from the smooth concrete and he was quick to turn the engine off, leaving the ambient sound of the nearby waves as their only soundtrack.

“I really don’t understand what you wanted to do here,” Tim mumbled, a bit sourly, as he stepped away from the bike, removing the helmet and trying to smooth his hair back down with some frustration. Though the salt air would likely not do it much good either; he gave up after a few moments.

“‘Tis not simply enough to see a sight, my friend?” Charlie replied with an overly dramatic flourish. His own hair was already a bit tousled with the breeze, but he didn’t seem to mind. It was never very finally pinned in place to begin with. “Get away from the fluorescents and stained glass once in a while. It’s good for you.” He beckoned Lovejoy over as he drifted down the sandy dune and towards the water, breathing deeply. It had been some time since he’d stepped away from Springfield and towards the ocean. He was a good swimmer… he simply had little opportunity to do so.

Not that he thought that Tim would take him up on a somewhat chilly night time swim.

Tim followed, though he took his time, sighing upon realization that he’d need to figure out how to get the sand out of his shoes before returning home. This all seemed so silly, but he got down the dunes nonetheless, stepping to Charlie’s side and grumpily staring at the hybrid. Like he expected more of an explanation.

“Well? Did you see it?” He asked, impatiently, not bothering to look out at what they’d actually come to see. It took Charlie all of two seconds to shoot back that impatient stare right at him, though it faded into something a little more… sympathetic. Or piteous? What would the hybrid have to pity him for? Lovejoy was almost offended, but the thought was significantly jostled off of its track as Charlie reached up with a scaly hand and gently pushed it against the reverend’s cheek, steering his face out towards the water.

“Look.”

Charlie said nothing else for the moment as Tim allowed his gaze to fix forward and out to the shifting waves. At first, his irritation threatened to return, but as he felt the hand leave his cheek and he took his first deep breath in, his protests remained swallowed. There was a dark and moody beauty to the scene, driven to a relaxing swell as he listened to the water lap against the shore. He almost didn’t notice that Charlie had sidled up right to his side, watching him with a little smile. But the hybrid’s gaze only lingered for a moment before returning out to the sea.

For a time, neither of them said anything. Until the hybrid finally murmured, a bit dreamily, to Lovejoy.

“Y’know. If there is a God up there… who… y’know, made all this- I’d like to believe that he made this for me.”

Blinking, Tim glanced over at the hybrid who didn’t look away from his fixed stare on the waves.

“...The whole ocean?” That was silly. God would have created it for everyone- all of his believers. And Tim had been about to say as such, but he would get no chance.

“Nah. Just this moment.”

There was a ‘that I’m sharing with you’ in there that remained unspoken, but Lovejoy wasn’t stupid enough to miss the implication. Awkwardly, he shifted his feet, though he found himself unable to dispute the belief, even if he felt heat rising in his face.

He always did say that God worked in mysterious ways.

“Hey! Check this out.”

Surprised by Charlie’s sudden shift into his usual, playful self, Lovejoy watched as the hybrid skittered closer to the water, his tail lifted high enough to keep from dragging in the sand. With a little shiver, Charlie dipped a toe into the waves and then another. Lovejoy stared at him strangely. The idiot would freeze if the water was cold enough.

“Charlie, really.” He said dully, but the hybrid was not swayed. Instead, Charlie only went deeper, pausing only to roll up the cuffs of his pants to prevent them from getting soaked entirely. The water was halfway up his shin when he stopped, locking eyes with the reverend as he waggled his tail once again. Like a child, Tim thought.

“Watch.”

With a strange precision that he didn’t think the hybrid was capable of, Charlie sunk the tip of his tail into the waves, and with a quick spin, dragged it in a circular motion. The water swished around him, and where his tail had been, tiny, microscopic beads of light appeared in its place. The water glowed with bioluminescence, illuminating the dark waves with an eerie aura that was also strikingly beautiful. Lovejoy had little to say as he ventured closer to the water, though made certain to keep his shoes from being splashed with the salty waves.

“...That’s not you is it?” The reverend asked, skeptical about the source of the glow and wondering whether or not Charlie had received more ridiculous radiation in Burns’ factory than he thought…

“No!” Charlie replied with a laugh. Dummy. “It’s plankton. They light up at night. Come and see!”

Another temptation - another invitation. Lovejoy seemed to be trapped in a never-ending series of challenges from the hybrid. But his curiosity was piqued. He’d never been able to see something like this before, save for, perhaps, on TV when he stayed up late channel-surfing because he couldn’t sleep. How stupid would he have to be to pass up on something like this? Besides… he could probably frame it in a sermon later on.

Yeah. That was his justification.

Though he huffed in faux-agitation, Lovejoy eventually stepped back and away from the water, removing his shoes and socks, nesting them neatly in the sand nearby and returning to the water’s edge where Charlie waited eagerly. Though there was hesitation in his movements, he was already halfway there. Eventually, he goaded himself into the water, similarly rolling up his pants and staring - with half-hearted annoyance - at Charlie who only returned his look with an excitable grin.

“Go on. Give it a try,” Charlie said, glancing from the water back up to Lovejoy who stood, awkwardly, not wanting to look foolish, and yet…

He sighed.

Reaching down, he dipped his fingertips into the water - then his hand. No light gleamed from beneath the frothy water and he frowned.

“You gotta wake ‘em up a bit.” Charlie’s encouragement was genuine.

It was enough so that Lovejoy didn’t feel… too put out when he gave the water a bit of a swish with his hand. And though the glow that emanated from the creatures within was fairly weak, it was a reaction nonetheless. He stared, a bit wide-eyed, moving his hand a little faster to strike up a better, stronger glow.

“See? Easy.”

“I know how to stir water,” Lovejoy replied, his gaze venturing back up to the hybrid who had carefully plodded over to where he was, glancing down at his plankton-stirring handiwork.

“Do you? Because you seem like you’re having kind of a hard time with it,” the hybrid shot back with a little smirk. Teasing, as he was wont to do.

Tim prickled at the implication, chasing a sudden urge and reaching down into the water. He scooped a bit of it into his hand, shifting his stance a bit so he didn’t sink too far into the sand, and flicked the water at Charlie in a meager splash. It was enough to significantly surprise the hybrid who hopped away in a little shake, droplets splattered onto his glasses as he stared dully back at the reverend.

“You are so rude,” Charlie said, his gaze turning devilish as he lowered his tail back into the water once again, circling Tim mischievously.

“...Okay- look. Now- Don’t go too far with this. This is my good shirt-”

Charlie didn’t wait for Tim to come up with more excuses, his tail lashing against the waves and sending a spray of sea water towards the reverend which the man tried and failed to dodge. Now they were both wet. And the thought seemed to strike both men at once. Now it was a war.

Charlie bolted away from the reverend as the man gave chase, both eagerly trying hard not to face plant into the sand and still spray the other with a considerable splash of seawater to consider it even. Charlie didn’t bother trying to disguise his laughter, amused by the grave expression on Lovejoy’s face, even though he too was trying not to chuckle under his breath. It was only when their back and forth nonsense caused Tim to nearly topple backwards into the waves that their game came to an end, the hybrid reaching out to snag Lovejoy by the wrist and tug him back to his feet. They didn’t need to play chicken with the current.

“Don’t drown on me now,” the hybrid said as he steadied Lovejoy, hands drifting to the man’s hips to keep him rooted in place, though he caught himself quickly, returning his grasp to himself and clearing his throat. “You good?”

Tim, for all of his alarm at the thought of losing his balance, was not thinking about that so much as the press of those hands on his body. Though the water was chilly, he was feeling impossibly warm, his hair wet and plastered to his head in what was undoubtedly a mess. His gaze quickly flitted from Charlie, to Charlie’s scaly hands, and then down to his own feet.

“Uh. Yes. Just fine.”

The water around them was teeming with bright, illuminated creatures, but he was having a hard time focusing on that. Even if it was beautiful.

“Good. I’d really rather not have to call the coast guard out here to rescue you a mile off shore,” Charlie replied with a little smile. Lovejoy stared at him for a moment before reaching up to snag the glasses from the hybrid’s face. Bringing them down, he attempted to wipe them clean with his shirt, but to no avail. His shirt was fairly soaked through. A rare kind gesture, foiled at its inception. Lovejoy frowned a little, moving to return them to the other, but not before he felt a sudden drop of moisture from above.

Were the waves growing?

No. That was rain.

Charlie glanced up to the sky and flinched as another drop of water hit him square in the face.

“...Maybe I should’ve checked the forecast,” he said sheepishly as the clouds above them opened and began to shower them both with light, cool rain that stirred the bioluminescence below and lit the water as far as they could see.

“Probably,” Lovejoy replied with a gentle sigh. Their earlier attempts at keeping the rest of their clothes dry seemed fairly futile now. But at least they weren’t amidst a torrential downpour or anything.

“I’ll pay for your dry cleaning. No worries.” Charlie kept his gaze on the other, a friendly apology in his eyes. The words were reassuring to Tim, in some way. Had he been worried about that at all? He wasn’t sure. He owned a dryer. It wasn’t a big deal, even if he made it out to be. But… Charlie was still concerned nonetheless.

“It’s… fine.”

The word tapered from his lips as he met Charlie’s eyes, the rain coasting along the waves and the light below bathing them both in the ghostly glow. From where he stood, he realized that, without his glasses, the other man’s eyes were…

Interesting.

No, that wasn’t the right word. But he couldn’t find the correct one. And for a moment, he didn’t seem to care, their eyes locked on one another’s as the sound of the water rushed around them and the cool relief of the rain kept Lovejoy’s face from getting too hot for him to handle.

Before he knew what he was doing, his body was moving towards the other, the pair of glasses still in one hand as he closed the distance between them. His other hand reached to find the hybrid’s chin, keeping him in place as he inspected - really looked at Charlie’s eyes. Like he was looking for something… specific.

“...What…?” Charlie asked, his breathing somewhat short as his heart hammered in his chest. He was not… used to being handled this way. And part of him wanted to run. But he stayed put, allowing Tim to do… whatever it was that he needed to do.

There was a stretch of a few long seconds before they both understood. But it was Lovejoy who finally pulled Charlie closer to him, pressing his mouth to Charlie’s in a heated, nearly desperate kiss. His fingers gripped tightly to the glasses in one hand and to Charlie’s wrist in the other. But Charlie needed no rooting to keep him in place. His own hands were free, reaching up to frame the other man’s face and deepen that kiss as though his life depended on it. Truly, he told himself, this had not been his intent. He’d been making progress - convincing himself that there could be nothing - would be nothing - between he and Tim. But this…

He drank it in like he’d been deprived of water for his entire life, his eyes shut tight against the sweeping rain and the mist that it kicked up beneath them. Lovejoy’s chest clenched painfully at the warmth of the kiss; at the obvious days, weeks, months of mutual pining between them. Where would this go? Where could it go? Nowhere but down. Down into the depths like so many microscopic bits of plankton which disappeared when the sun rose once again.

But they had time yet - the moon was still full despite the clouds framing it in a gentle embrace. The rain still shrouded them both as the kiss was broken, only for it to be reconnected once again. More than once, Lovejoy almost dropped the hybrid’s glasses into the waves, but he held tighter onto them each time. He had let Charlie down in so many ways… at the very least, he could keep his damned glasses safe.

Sadly, the hybrid knew that such a tender, sweet moment was only destined for brevity. Despite the aching in his chest and the churning, bubbly discomfort in his stomach when he thought of pulling away, he forced himself to. Even if it was slowly; gently. His hands on Lovejoy’s face remained there briefly before they too fell back to his sides, claws digging slightly into his own palms as he watched the reverend place his glasses back in front of his eyes. Behind the glass, Lovejoy was blurry and spotty. Somehow… out of reach.

As he often was.

But Charlie didn’t let his sadness pierce the veil of the moment, offering Lovejoy a soft, encouraging smile. There was nothing wrong. It was fine. Everything was fine.

“Come on. We should probably get you back home before you get sick.” Concerned, as always, though he knew that the morning would bring the crushing loneliness that he knew stemmed from Lovejoy’s apparent lack of concern from day to day.

It was fine.

Charlie led the way back to the shore, fruitlessly trying to shake the water from his hair and climbing back up the damp dunes, turning to offer his hand to Tim as he followed behind, much more slowly, and seemingly lost in thought. Charlie wouldn’t blame him, patience in his eyes as he allowed Tim to take his time. He arrived at the bike first, pulling the helmet out again and doing his best to shake it free of the rain as the shower tapered into a light drizzle. He offered it to Tim, watching as the reverend distractedly placed it on his head and climbed onto the bike behind the hybrid.

They would drive home more slowly, the sting of the drizzle against Charlie’s face an almost jarring reminder that all he would have to show for his bold night out was memories and wet clothes.

--------

Lost in thought as they drove back to the Lovejoys’, Tim had said nothing as soon as they left the water. Though his grip on Charlie tightened when they increased in speed and he’d - at some point - rested his head against the hybrid’s shoulder, his silence persisted as they returned to the quiet, stifling air of the suburbs. His house loomed ever closer, his fingers gripping the fabric of Charlie’s shirt which clung to his somewhat-skinny frame as if he could slow down time and make the trip last longer. But it was not to be.

The bike turned gently into the reverend’s driveway, the engine quieting to a purr and then silencing altogether as Charlie parked, hopping stiffly off the bike and allowing Lovejoy to follow. Tim peeled off the helmet, unaware and uncaring that his hair had flattened against his head during the ride, setting it down on the seat of the bike and leading the way up to the doorstep. The hybrid followed, albeit with hesitation, not venturing up and onto the porch step, even as Lovejoy opened the front door, greeted with a dark, lonely front hallway.

“Make sure you get dry and warm,” Charlie said from behind him, his voice muted and lacking the earlier eager energy that he’d had when they’d left for the shore. Lovejoy didn’t look back, nodding and opening the door wider, prepared to go in and shut it behind him. Charlie had clearly found places to stay. He didn’t need Tim anymore.

But-

As the door seemed to creak to a close behind the reverend who disappeared into the house, Charlie turned away with a gentle exhale. He’d spent the long drive back preparing himself for the disappointment of pretending as though the night had never happened. Resignation was all he had left as he drifted back over to the bike. Lifting up the helmet, he stared into the visor for a moment, seeing his tired, weary expression staring back at him in the reflection.

You’re a fool, Charlie Dean Walker.

“Wait,” called a voice from behind him. Charlie’s ears twitched with curiosity, turning to see that Lovejoy hadn’t quite shut the door yet. The hybrid blinked, confused.

“...It’s too late for you to be driving around looking like that,” Tim said in his usual chastising tone, though his eyes betrayed his harsh words.

They were pleading. Desperate.

“Come in and let me throw them in the wash. Otherwise they’ll never get clean, knowing you.”

Charlie stood upright, staring at Lovejoy in disbelief. He knew an implication when he heard one. And this time… he really didn’t need to be asked twice. Placing the helmet back on the bike, he pulled the key from the ignition and carried it up with him to the porch. Hesitant, at that first step, he fought the urge to run. But here it was. The invitation that he’d wanted. He knew that Lovejoy would not ask him to stay just to toss him back into the basement.

This was something different.

Something new.

Something… exciting.

Oh, he was still a fool. And he always would be. But Charlie chased his foolhardy desires up those steps, snaking his way into the front hallway of the Lovejoy residence and disappearing behind the door.

What Helen didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

#tj writes #the simpsons #reverend lovejoy #simpsona #oc #ROMANCE GO BRRRR #self indulgent garbage

[galaxyguidetolovinggirls]

The Galaxy Guide to loving girls presents: Fashion across the galaxy.

Ladies. We all know how to dress to impress. We all have that special dress, or that cute skirt that will make  your gf or every girl in the club fall over her heels for you. But as big as our closets are the galaxy is even bigger. And fashion changes in different ways depending on where you are. For those who haven't visit the outer rim, who have never go down the rabbit hole of parties on the core worlds or venture into Hutt Space, we bring you fashion trends and advices from every corner of the galaxy

Core Worlds

Naboo. Let me tell you something. If you are a cute girl really into pastel colors, silk robes and dresses that go all the way down to the floor, jewelry from every corner of the galaxy or just really, but REALLY sexy swimsuits, Naboo is your place. Home to the capital of Fashion, Theed, and has a little bit for everyone! The beaches and lakes are a great place to get some skin out, so take some sunscreen and a cute swimsuit and relax. The raves are also a wild space where you can have some fun with some of the cutest girls in the galaxy. You will be getting into a beautiful and wild rainbow of colors, where people laugh, drink and dance until they cant stand.  And finally tea parties in the city are the best place to try new things. The nobles from Naboo are really grounded and they try to give back at the people. Getting invited is a bit tricky as everyone wants to go but its a excellent place to go out in your fancy clothes. 

Alderaan. Fancy. That's what you need to think when dressing up for Alderaan. For years, the different houses of Alderaan had made the planet into a jewel for high society parties and ball dances! As so, the people in Alderaan love to dress to impress. Think tight dresses with the best cuts, amazing haircuts, and of course, the most impressive lingerie and tattoos you can think off! For Alderanians, everything should be fashionable. Your hair, your skin, your clothes and even your underwear. Of course you can also hit the more casual parties. Most of the population like the fashion from the nobles, but they also want to relax every now and then. So you can get yourself some old clothes, some easy makeup, flats, and just go and share a drink around a fire. Casual parties are often in the middle of the wood so you can get away from the noise of the cities

Corellia. Now listen up ladies. Corellia is the bomb. And i'm not saying that in some sick way because of all the imperial bombardments. Corellia is a place where you can go and fuck around. You want to go for wild colors? You want to wear all black in the middle of the park? You want to have a skirt shorter than your ass and strings as a bra? Corellia has a place for everyone! From the east plazas to the north raves, Corellia embraces diversity of extreme styles like no other place. 

Outer Rim

Tatooine. Now listen. Many people don't know this but there is an actual FASHION WORLD in Tatooine. Most smugglers across the galaxy end up in here after running away with some loot. So to cheat boredom, they began to go through their goods and loot to thrown parties. After a while this parties became a nice event that has become a tradition. The hottest things in Tatooine beside the sand, are ponchos and hats! You need to protect yourself from the sun ladies so sunglasses are also really cool! The colors are usually clear and with few jewels so you dont tempt the patrons. But if you fancy some new type of fashion, head over Tatooine for a party! Just remember your sunscreen.

Nar Shaddaa. The fashion on Nar Shaddaa has 2 sides. Neon and wild colors and High Sexy Fashion. If you have been in Nar Shaddaa, or at least its higher levels, you know that the world is a big Ad. Everyone wants you to go and spend money in either a casino or in a bar. As so, most streets are filled with Neon signs and wild colors to hook you up. Parties are the same. Nobody will be judging you here so go wild, get yourself as many colors as you want, some high heels or flats that make you feel cute and hit whatever party you want. Some bars have a color scheme so if you really want to kill it, try to plan ahead. Otherwise even wearing 6 or 7 colors is cool! Now there's also the highest parties. Here, people with power and influence throw their sexiest dresses and go to have some fun. Most parties of course are private but there are a good amount that will let you in as long as you look cute or sexy. These parties are usually wild as everyone invited will be looking to hook up. 

Rishi. Now girls! Rishi is the capital of pirates. If you thought Nar Shaddaa was a paradise for smugglers Rishi is heaven on steroids. But worry not! There are some good souls in Rishi that want to keep civilians safe so they can spend money around. And one of the best attractions on the planet is the Jungle Cat Walk! Here, pirates and smugglers lend all the clothes they have to the prettiest girls, so they can walk around the party and catch buyers. There's also pirate fashion battles, where a group of girls try to come up with a new outfit out of random stuff in a box in order to win. And of course, for all of you not in a pirate gang or smuggling goods, you can go and enjoy yourself in the after party! The fashion in Rishi is wild. You must look as cute and dangerous as you can! People even carry knives under their dresses just to look better! Greeen, gold and red are your best friends. And there are plenty of beaches for you to go and try for a wild swimsuit. Do try to avoid heavy jewelry as you don't want to tempt locals

Special Mentions

Dromund Kaas. Now I know that not everyone wants to go get themselves in the middle of some sith drama. But if you manage to stick to the drama free parts of Kaas City, you will actually have a good time. Now as the capital of all things sith and scary, Droming Kaas is also the capital of all things goth and metal. If you fancy wearing black as dark as your soul, metal spikes and chains, or just a dramatic dress out of a fantasy movie, you will be right at home. Of course, not everything is black in Kaas. Some people like to wear white and gold to look like characters from movies. Some even wear fake armor just to look cool. As i said. The capital of drama is a place where you can wear whatever as long as it is amazing. Cosplayers might find this is their own little paradise. Just stay away from wearing anything to similar to prominent sith’s

#wlw #star wars #starwars #swtor #star wars lesbian #starwars lesbian #swtor lesbian #star wars: the old republic #starwars wlw #star wars wlw #lesbian #The Galaxy Guide to Loving Girls #Galaxy Guide to loving girls #star wars fashion #starwars fashion #swtor fashion #star was gay

[squarecarousel]

Challenge 144: 10 Years, Looking Forward: Looking ahead

For this challenge I was attempting to obtain an optimistic forward looking perspective as this season ‘life’ of Square Carousel comes to a close.

But every artist and illustrator that has been a part of this collective has inevitably come through this ‘reborn’ and better than before. 

I believe myself to be a little bit of a thinker and I rather enjoy the idea of dueling contrasts. Beginning/ending. Life/death. Happy/sad. Student/master. I just believe these things are incredibly powerful and beautifully signify the human condition. Not necessarily literally but on a deeper level. The level the presumably separates us from other animals on this planet. In our minds. We have the opportunity to make the decisions that directly affect how we pursue each of those contrasting pairs and an endless amount more.

If I wake up tomorrow, I am reborn to a new day. The me of yesterday has presumably died through the slumber and there is a brand new me that gets to live in the here and now. And maybe that is naive and optimistic but I live to think of it as inspired.

Which is where I come around to the real point I believe I am attempting to make, the impact of Square Carousel. 

I dont know what inspired the idea of Square Carousel for Elizabeth and Caitlin but if there is such a thing as karma, they have paid that inspiration and those kinds of ideas forward, tenfold. 

When transitioning this idea from a thought to an action, the idea wasnt to spark unlimited sources of inspiration. In fact, id guess that it was to create inspiration amongst a small group of individuals. But sticking to the road that this idea paved, created compound interest that i feel needs to be put into writing and conveyed to both Elizabeth and Caitlin and anyone other person who may be reading this.

I have decided that there is no possible way I can come up with numbers for my little experiment of how Square Carousel has impacted the world. Better yet, ill let your mind go down this rabbit hole as mine obviously already has.

As I continue to type, I have realized that this will be my long winded way of saying ‘thank you’.

Back to number of people impacted and hopefully in a cliff notes version. Caitlin and Elizabeth have a network of ‘x’ people when starting this venture. As they began following through with this, the 2 of them started learning new things. Ever wonder how it is managing a bunch of artists? Go ahead and reread this long post and see what kind of shit show is going on in my mind. Now multiply that by a handful of artists. So, Caitlin and Elizabeth’s network reaps the benefit of them learning all this knowledge that is doubtfully super fun to go through but when they start taking on all of the artists that will be a part of this collective they then impact all of the artist that they are taking on and those artists network as well. But wait there’s more. as the world wide internet grows along with social media, all of the above continues to be impacted but now everyone involved is growing their network. And as you are growing your network, people continue to be impacted by these initial steps of creating this collective. Now, since these are all artists and are creating work, what about the viewers of the art that has beern directly affected by this? Then what about the people who become impacted by these items and then go on and impact others. Yeah, this gets out of hand quickly... That’s cool... Now multiply that by 10 years. Fucking nuts.

Elizabeth and Caitlin, thank you for letting me be a small part of this impact you have created. I apologize for the pain in the ass I can be, but respect you both so much. I hope that with the time that the both of you are gaining without having to manage this, the next venture is just as fruitful. 

Sayada, obviously you deserve a little individual call out for bringing me on board. Awesome for me but probably regretful for you. Thank you. It sucks that there arent any words that I can come up with fully encompass my appreciation for you and what you have done for me by inviting me to join Square Carousel for the time that I did. Congratulations on your recent Childrens book and I am hoping there is plenty more where that came from. Thank you again.

This is crazy long and will give high fives to all the artists that have been part of this collective during the time I have been on here and I appreciate the feedback and optimism shared with me to get stuff done!

I graduated from SCAD in March 2012.I am currently coming to terms with what I enjoy making and the processes that I enjoy working in and I have been really steering towards making more gallery art and hope to really start reaping the benefits of that soonish. 10 years from now I see myself continuing to draw and paint nonstop while hopefully using it as a pretty big part of my life and continue to use my art to impact others.

-Brett

#challenge 144 #Guest Artist #Looking ahead #pen and ink #brett morgan #square carousel #square carousel illustration collective #10 years looking forward #final challenge #finale

[twiceblackvelvet]

Username: xNotYourJoyx

A/N; hi. i have no clue where this idea came from. i don’t know why my brain always tells me to start more red velvet series’ randomly. but here is the latest spawn from it. this will have more parts to it because i’m interested in expanding on the dynamics of this trio plus i signed up for things that have since blown up my emails for this because i’m dedicated like that. anyway! enjoy. or don’t. idk anymore. 

It was only a suggestion.  A quick mention, really. “There’s this site, Seungwan,” is how it started. Except for that brief conversation spiraled rapidly into a whirlwind of curiosity and excitement. Perhaps, discussing the lack of sex life and the frustration that comes with that whilst you’re supposed to be busy working on the latest financial development wasn’t the smartest move, and yet, the conversation ended in a better resolution than she imagined when Joohyun had managed to pry the information out of her about why she’s been so on edge lately. 

On edge being both literal and metaphorical. Getting to the high is easy, however, toppling over into the rush of being able to feel the full experience of pleasure has been evading her for the last few weeks now. Nothing seems to do the trick and though you may think it’d be fun to simply keep trying, it’s starting to become an issue with the more extreme methods she attempts. So, it desperately needs to be fixed, just not in front of all of her colleagues who are idly typing away the dull workday. 

The rest of the day drags along. Nothing particularly interesting happens which Seungwan is grateful for, she could do without the extra stress. Though, she’s sure the new sponsorship to promote a dead-end product that everyone had warned their boss about will cause a headache in the future, she ignores the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. Joohyun was kind enough to buy dinner for the both of them which her stomach is currently grateful for as she’s certain her fridge at home is empty. But, watching her friend and colleague suckle on the ice cream bar she purchased for herself should not have resulted in her needing to press her legs together on instinct. 

Joohyun didn’t notice, or if she did, she didn’t say anything and continued to lap her tongue across the cold strawberry flavored ice cream. Probably for the best. Nothing good ever comes from getting too involved with people you have to work alongside every day, even if that person does look like Aphrodite herself. The awkward looks between you both, everyone else knowing that the two of you have slept together but are now deciding on which color scheme to use for an advertisement, it just isn’t something that Seungwan wants to deal with. So, she and Joohyun will have to remain platonic. Unfortunately.

It’s late by the time she gets home. The hallway lights leading up to the apartment door flicker every few seconds and the apartment across the hall has the television turned up loud enough that Seungwan is sure they’re trying to let those in hell hear the latest episode of whichever show they’re currently watching. The keys in her hand rattle as she unlocks the stiff door that barely wants to open anymore. The loudness doesn’t disappear once she closes it behind her but it’s home and somewhere she can erase the feeling of being stuck, in more ways than one. 

The latest routine of ordering in unhealthy food that is slowly destroying her insides, a cold shower to wash away some of the exhaustion, and then listening to the same songs for about an hour feels almost robotic but it’s what she’s grown used to now. Once the darkness begins to creep in across the apartment, cold air making the hairs on her arm stand to attention and the neighbors suddenly growing quiet, it’s the small bed in the corner of the room that calls out and the only thing echoing inside her head. 

Well, it would be, had she not suddenly recalled Joohyun’s description of a site where many people frolic and entertain those who perhaps need a little extra help with their more sinful needs. She moves on auto-pilot toward the jacket hanging on the coat rack and reaches into the left side pocket for the small piece of paper where only the web address is scrawled upon it in Joohyun’s perfect handwriting. The laptop she bought years before and barely runs anymore rests on the dining table she never sits at, closed, and with a line of dust taking up home upon it. Grabbing it, she plops herself down onto the bed after removing her dressing gown and the towel around her hair which has long since dried and throwing it into a corner of the room to be cleaned up tomorrow. 

Her fingers trace the keyboard idly, never pressing in a single key, simply going back and forth over the letters whilst her brain tries to decipher if this is something she wants to try out. 

“Fuck it.” She thinks. Soon enough, the site is loading, slowly, and asking for her to confirm she is of legal age to enter it. 

The screen finally loads and brings up a bunch of profiles under the “popular” banner. To say that the sight of all the various people before her is overwhelming would be an understatement. A sidebar reveals that she can choose a category as well as filter out specific things that are not of her interest. Some of the categories are the standard you would expect, for example, she immediately filters to only see profiles of women. However, others are a little more out there and specific toward what Seungwan assumes are people’s fetishes. A lot of them are things that she would never consider a person could find interesting sexually, and yet, the option is right before her. She ignores the curious voice inside of her head telling her to click on some of them. 

A screen full of women now presents itself in front of her. All of them are beautiful and there’s a whole variety to choose from. The profile pictures range from selfies where they’re simply smiling to some of them being without clothing whatsoever. She scrolls for quite some time simply admiring all of the choices before her until one, in particular, captures her attention. 

Wide dark eyes with hair of the same shade of brown, plump lips that are sporting a small smirk that’s both enticing and teasing. Part of the girl’s neck is on display for Seungwan to imagine herself kissing and biting softly. Without hesitation, she hovers over the username and clicks onto the profile. 

“xNotYourJoyx” she repeats mentally a few times. 

The next page reveals a sign-up box that doesn’t allow Seungwan to venture any further. She’s quick to type in her email address, a username not as clever as she would like and the same password she uses for everything else. The next step is to add her bank details in order to be able to subscribe to various pages. She hesitates at this portion realizing that it’s probably very easy for people to fall too far down this rabbit hole. Thus she promises herself not to subscribe to anything until she’s 100% sure. 

After completing her profile, she’s brought back to the girl she assumes is named Joy or at least uses that name here. Her subscription rate is the first thing to appear. Her price is low Seungwan thinks, around $10 when she was expecting something far higher based on the type of content Joohyun had told her the people on the site create. The next part is an Amazon wishlist with various items in it ranging from hair extensions, expensive perfume, and medical equipment? She must be a nurse, Seungwan thinks. 

Further down the page reveals a VIP service which is more expensive than the standard subscription but allows for you to request specific pictures or videos. There are rules that come along with it which Seungwan reads multiple times over. 

Don’t ask me to say or tell you anything personal about me, we are not friends. You don’t know me like that. 

No, you can’t have my Instagram or any other social media so don’t ask. 

Don’t be a dick. 

My amazon wishlist is not for me. I am not a doctor. But I’m down to dress as one for you if you’re into that. 

“Well, that clears that up I guess.” She thinks. 

For the next ten minutes, Seungwan simply scrolls through the free content on offer from Joy. A few shots of her without clothes but covering her body up with her hands or a sheet, all of which look professionally done which is surprising.  She’s captivated and drawn in by this girl a lot quicker than she thought she would be, she can see why Joohyun would recommend such a thing to her now. The possibilities are endless and there are no strings attached. It’s an ideal situation for both parties. 

Despite making the promise to herself, she’s quick to subscribe to Joy’s feed but ignores the large “upgrade to VIP” logo that’s glistening in gold below the payment button. It would seem strange or suspicious surely to her if someone new to her profile was suddenly paying for the premium option Seungwan tries to logic with herself. 

A few seconds pass as the page reloads itself before finally Joy’s profile is unlocked for Seungwan’s eyes to devour. The same type of photos as previously, however, without anything covering herself up. The same natural reaction to jam her thighs together that she felt earlier with Joohyun ends up happening again except this time she positions her hand under the waistband of her bed shorts. 

The further she explores everything Joy has posted the more the need to be touched becomes overwhelming Before she knows it her fingers are gently caressing her soft skin slowly yet with desperation. Many of the images have comments from other people praising the effortless beauty that Joy manages to convey with ease. Seungwan thinks that Joy must be someone with great confidence to display herself so openly like this. She wishes she too were able to picture herself in the way that Joy likely does. 

Her body aches for some release but once more she’s not able to reach the peak as the page of images suddenly comes to an end. Once more, the gold button for premium appears and tells Seungwan she’s reached the limit of what she can see. A blurring effect does a good job of hiding what follows next, however,  what it doesn’t do is stop her from being enticed further when she spots that Joy has also uploaded videos of herself, they are simply hidden from those on the basic subscription as her. 

Almost sub-consciously she finds herself going against every warning sign inside of her mind telling her that paying to watch Joy rather than just look at her is a bad decision, one she will definitely come to regret or become too attached to doing, and yet, it’s too late once she’s confirmed the upgrade and clicked onto the first video that appears. 

White background, likely a wall in her home, Seungwan thinks, until finally the girl steps into the frame with yet another smirk on her lips.  

“Hello, welcome to premium. Thank you for subscribing. I hope you enjoy all of the videos and pictures that only a select few of you will ever get to see. If you’re feeling even more generous please be sure to check out my wishlist. Now, let’s have fun together.” 

Her voice is silky smooth, Seungwan thinks. She replays the simple video a few times just to hear her make this decision sound like she’s part of an exclusive club where only she is invited, though, she’s aware that isn’t true at all. Joy likely has a ton of people paying to see the most intimate parts of her. The comments on this simple welcoming video are at 59 which means at least that many people have also fallen into the trap, though if Joy is the prize, Seungwan wonders if be tricked into paying extra like this is worth it in the end. 

She decides to read through some of them just to get a sense of how people communicate with her here. 

ksgeees says: can’t wait for you to send me my video Joy😏

canudoit2609 says: so hot🔥

r4bb1tfr13nd says: damn i should have subbed earlier🥵🥵🥵

speedzoom0408 says: YOU CAN HAVE ALL MY MONEY

HYUNSKY says: most beautiful girl ever 

Strangely, the latter comment is the only one Joy has bothered to give a reply to. 

xNotYourJoyx says: @HYUNSKY wow, thank you😳

The compliment is definitely correct and deserving of a reply, yet, Seungwan wishes she were the one to tell Joy such things and have her respond solely to her. Jealousy is a green-eyed monster and though she probably shouldn’t be feeling it toward a complete stranger, she does. The sound of the keys as she types out her own comment with her free hand that hasn’t been teasing herself is the only thing she can hear now. Not even the wind outside is able to pierce her eardrums and break her from this spell that Joy has put her under. 

Wannie2102 says: you are so perfect, Joy.

It’s simple and Seungwan hates it, but she simply must tell this girl something, anything, in hopes that she sees it and feels happy to be complimented. 

Silence now, nothing but the screen before her for light inside the cold bedroom. The list of videos, 71 in total, tempting Seungwan, taunting almost. Her left hand numb now from just resting against her own body whilst her right-hand clicks onto the next one in the list after the welcoming video. 

The same white background, however, Joy is positioned in the video as soon as it starts this time. Laying down on a black crushed velvet sofa in only her underwear. Her right hand gently caressing her breasts as she grunts out a few low moans. Her left hand in a similar position to where Seungwan is resting her own. The tired and slow circles in which she moves her hand causes her eyes to roll into the back of her head as Seungwan changes her own pace to match that of Joy’s on the screen. 

Her bed creaks with every movement of Joy’s that she mimics, the headboard bashing against the wall behind her whenever Joy quickens her pace and then sounds like a light drumming whenever she slows. The neighbor next door has definitely been awakened by the rhythmic sound of Seungwan rocking her body against her fingers. 

“You’re enjoying this, huh?” The words surprise Seungwan out of her reverie as it’s as if Joy is present and asking her specifically and knowing that she too is pleasuring herself as she is doing. Without even thinking she manages to gasp out a yes in reply that only she can hear, yet gains a response from Joy almost like she can magically hear her. “I wish I could watch you touch yourself to me.” she pauses to lowly moan. “For me.” 

The pressure rises between her thighs once more except this time her body allows her to release every bit of tension she’s had to keep trying to get rid of for weeks. Her entire body collapses against itself as she indulges herself in what she’s convinced is the longest orgasm to ever exist. Her legs shaking wildly as her arm tenses up and flex to make sure she feels every bit of her undoing. The sound of Joy finishing up her own continues to play in the background for further motivation but the deed has already been done. 

She rests momentarily, staring up at the ceiling as gentle pants fill the room both from herself and the laptop. Nothing else in the world matters at this very moment. However, once more Joy manages to surprise Seungwan with her telepathic way of just knowing somehow when to speak to her viewer. 

“Thank you for that, I hope you come back soon for more.” and then the video ends. 

A dark screen replacing the beautiful image of Joy just as spent as Seungwan feels. But, now she’s left to think about everything that has just transpired between herself, the screen and a girl she doesn’t even know. Guilt wells up in her chest and she slams the screen shut almost shattering the glass. “Why did you do this?” is the only thing that repeats inside of her mind. No longer focused on the pulsating feeling against her hand as she pulls it out of her shorts too fast and whips herself with the waistband which will no doubt sting in the morning.

Her legs shakily drag her body to the bathroom almost tripping over various clothes that have sat there waiting to be cleaned for way too long now. She turns on the shower for the second time tonight and steps into it, almost falling immediately. The cold water shocks her body into feeling something other than the after-effects of pleasuring herself. Scrubbing every inch of her body intensely and repeating inside of her mind that she’ll cancel the subscription tomorrow and never do anything like this ever again. She can’t. Joy is a stranger and she shouldn’t be doing these things.

By the time she’s finished almost burning her skin with the washcloth to make sure she’s rid herself of her sins and changing her fair skin to a reddish shade, the clock on the bedside table shows that there are only three hours before she’s due to wake up for work. The bed seems tainted now, so she grabs the blanket and sleeps on the sofa that is far less comfortable. 

Joohyun is definitely going to ask her about whether or not she used the site, definitely going to notice the dark circles under her eyes from the lack of sleep and will definitely draw up her own conclusion anyway no matter what her answer is. She tries her best not to think about any of this but there’s just a constant loop of the images of Joy, the sound of her voice, and the way she encouraged Seungwan to feel again. 

She dreams of dark hair and brown eyes that night and moans that could be the most heavenly sound in the world or a new addiction that Seungwan isn’t ready for but may not have a choice but to indulge in it. 

pt. ii

#red velvet #bae joohyun #son seungwan #park sooyoung #red velvet scenarios #girl group scenarios #irene #wendy #joy