#like she says its a fashion statement but shes also the only one that knows his blood color for the first bit hypothetically

[nuctua-larc]

the blueprint the goth lesbian i love her vibes she is exquisite

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

On David Tennant and Aging

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.

David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.

It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…

He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.

Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.

David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren��t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.

There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!

I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.

[geeky-politics-46]

Party For Two

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky discuss what he wants to do for his birthday and what he wants as his present.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, light dirty talk, pet names, language, creampie, Bucky in his underwear needs a warning all its own

You could seriously just watch Bucky walk around in his underwear all day and be happy as a clam. You've told him before, and you'd tell him again. That he should just not wear clothes when you two were spending the day at home. 

It didn't matter if he threw on a shirt. Some days, having his arm and his scars completely visible bothered him. Sometimes he had phantom limb pain and needed the arm off completely, prefering to cover his scars as you tried to help with the residual nerve damage in his shoulder and back. 

Shuri did a lot, but she couldn't rewire the mess of his nervous system Hydra had left behind. Despite your assurance that you loved every inch of him, you would never push him to do something he didn't want to do. Some days were harder than others and you made sure he felt safe and loved even on his worst days. So your main rule was just no pants.

A man in his underwear should not turn you into this much of a hot horny mess, especially when you get to see him totally naked regularly. Although Bucky was an incredible specimen of a man.

Even now, you could see his lips moving, but your brain could not process the words he was saying. Not when those tight boxer briefs made his ass look like you could just bite into it. Not to mention how they perfectly cupped his bulge. The way you could just slightly see his cock and balls jiggle as he walked. It felt dirty but still kind of sweet. 

It made you just want to play with his cock. Not necessarily in a hand job sexual way, but just hold it and pet it. Tell him how pretty and perfect his cock was. Gently massage and rub his balls and kiss all over him. He did have the prettiest cock. 

You also loved how much he blushed whenever you told him how pretty his cock was. The old-fashioned boy from the 1940's was still taken aback by such words coming from your pretty little mouth. Even if it was a genuine compliment he still wasn't used to hearing a sweet pretty thing like you talk so openly about liking cock. Especially his. Especially when he wasn't already balls deep inside you.

Bucky agreed to the deal on the condition that you also wore no pants. You were allowed to throw on shorts or pj's on occasion, but only ones Bucky liked. Usually, you just went for an oversized shirt. 

Honestly, the two of you became quite the pair of hermits or homebodies. Your happy place was your apartment. Just the two of you, and Alpine, of course. You had all settled into your little domestic routine quite well. You couldn't help the little contented sigh that left your lips.

It was then that you realized Bucky had stopped talking and was staring back at you, trying not to laugh at your deer in headlights expression. You were caught red-handed, staring at him again. He couldn't be too mad about you not listening if you were gonna look so cute when busted.

"You know I think you have a bigger staring problem than I do, babydoll."

You could feel your cheeks blush as you both dissolved into little giggles. You knew he wasn't mad, but you still apologized anyway once you composed yourself. 

"I'm sorry, Buck. You are just too sexy sometimes for my brain to do anything but stare at you. I kinda like you, ya know." 

You gave him a teasing smirk punctuating your statement. Saying I love you was still new to the two of you, but Bucky would say it over and over the first few days. You couldn't help but tease him about it. All out of your own love for him though, and he knew it.

"Well, if you had been listening, you would know that Sam is inevitably going to try to throw me some sort of birthday party. He's been dropping hints for days, but if he asks please tell him we already have plans. I don't care what, but I really don't want a party." 

Of course, that's right. Sam had been after you about trying to do something for Bucky’s birthday. Sam wanted to go out and do something bigger. You knew all Bucky wanted to do for his birthday was be alone. It was hard for him think about all the birthdays, all the years, he had lost. He wanted to mark the day by enjoying the life he had waited so long for. 

He had waited so long to be at peace. Even though he still had missions to go on and work to do in the field, and in his own head, he felt a stability that he had always dreamed of. He had an apartment. Even if it wasn't the most put together. He had a pet. Alpine the fluffy white feline rescue who has helped him just as much as he helped her. 

Most importantly, he had you. He had an amazing girl that he wanted to settle down with. Create a home with. One day marry and have babies with. Assuming he could. He really didn't know if Hydra had done anything to affect his fertility. He didn't really want to know. For now, the 2 of you and Alpine was enough though.

That was what he wanted to celebrate, and he wanted to celebrate it by staying in with you. Just you, take out, tv or movies. Then, of course he planned to cash in his birthday points on dirty noise-complaint-getting loud sex. Some people may think it sounded boring, other than the sex part maybe, but that was exactly what he loved about it. 

You could see him planning out the evening he really wanted in his mind. He always joked about not wanting anyone else in his head, but he did love that you seemed to be able to read his mind. 

"What if I tell Sam that we are having a party and he just isn't invited? That it's a party just for two. Just you and me. I'll even let you pick dinner." 

He pretended to think about it as he walked over to the side of the couch you were on. Reaching across the arm of the sofa to help you up onto your knees so he could wrap his arms around your waist. Letting yourself slide up his muscular chest and link behind his neck. A mischievous smile curled up on his lips.

"I like the sound of that. I do still want cake though. Are you planning any party games?" 

You nodded at his request. Oh you were planning on cake, ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate syrup. Basically, any sort of dessert that could be enjoyed in both appropriate and inappropriate ways. 

"Well cake is a given of course. I'm sure we can find all sorts of creative ways to enjoy it too. As far as games, I do have a couple things in mind. Tell me how do you feel about naked Twister?"

He grabbed your waist a little tighter and growled a little at the idea of the two of you bent into all sorts of compromising positions. His blood starting to rush to his groin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

"You know, I may need a little practice. Why don't we have a little practice party right now? Just so I know what to expect on my birthday." 

You smiled and shook your head at him, he knew you were a sucker for that look he got when he was feeling frisky. The crooked little grin, the way he would bite his lip, and the way his pretty blue eyes would sparkle. It was like your lips were pulled to his by a magnet. Moving closer on their own volition. 

Not that you mind of course. Your thoughts had already been in the gutter from watching Bucky strut around the house in those tight boxer briefs. Now you knew his was there too. The feeling of his bulge hardening against you, confirming that and making you wiggle your hips in anticipation.

He pulled back so his lips were barely touching yours, eliciting a needy little whine from you. You wanted more of him. You always wanted more of him. His hands started to slide down your low back to cup your ass cheeks, bending his knees a little so he could get a firm hold on you. 

"Mmm, can smell you, babydoll. You smell so good. Know you taste even better though. Taste even sweeter than that birthday cake will. I want a taste, baby girl."

He almost effortlessly scooped you up off the couch, your legs quickly swinging to wrap around his waist. Alpine had abandoned the couch to go hide under the table the minute you two started getting lovey. So without fear of stepping on her tail he practically sprinted to your shared bedroom, plopping you down unceremoniously onto the bed before lunging so he was on top of you. 

His lips hurried back to connect with yours in a frenzy of playful, passion filled kisses. Letting your hands wander up and down each others bodies, rubbing and touching any bit you could grab. Slowly working to get your hand down to rub over his cock. Straining against the soft fabric of his underwear. Still getting harder as you massaged him. 

You pulled your lips away from his so you could admire his cock in your hand. Even though it was still hidden behind the dark fabric, you couldn't help the way you licked your lips and moaned at the sight. He was just so perfect and thick. You knew the serum hadn't changed his height and size near as dramatically as Steve, but it did effect his muscle mass. You had a little bit of a hope that it had made his cock this thick. Otherwise those girls in the 40's wouldn't have survived.

"Starting to think you might be a little obsessed with my cock, babydoll." 

He teased you as he started kissing and sucking at your neck. Letting you enjoy your view as he let his hips occasionally roll and rut into your hand. You hummed in agreement as he began teasing his vibranium hand up and under your shirt. 

"Can't help it, baby. It's just so fucking perfect and big. Fills me up so good. So much better than any of my toys. Plus I kinda love the man it's attached to." 

He nuzzled his face into your neck before you felt him grin against your skin. He whispered an "I love you too baby…". Suddenly moving quickly and knocking your balance out from you as he in one smooth move threw off the shirt you were wearing and rushing to get your panties off just as fast. Leaving you suddenly naked underneath him. 

"... I'm also kind of obsessed with this pretty pussy. So I guess we're even." 

His body dropping to the bed and your legs thrown over his shoulders as he descended on you. Wet kisses along the crease of your inner thigh, just shy of where you desperately wanted his lips. Jumping to the other side and letting his warm breath dance across your dripping sex.

You could feel his bright blue eyes on you as he placed his first long lick up your slit. Making sure to cover every inch from your tight light hole up to your clit. Stopping to place several small kisses and kitten licks on the bundle of nerves. Hearing your breath already starting to falter.

Bucky loved eating you out. It wasn't something he remembered doing more than maybe once or twice before you, and he can't remember enjoying it nearly as much back then as he did now. Maybe he was more selfish back then. Maybe those women had just been less secure and open about what felt good. Women being so vocal about enjoying sex was pretty taboo in his day, but the way you reacted to his mouth on you made him obsessed. 

Each time you moaned as swirled his tongue around your clit. Each time you would grind against his face as he thrust his tongue inside you. Each time you would pull his hair as rubbed his whole face farther into your wet cunt. It all made him want to spend the rest of his life wirh his head between your thighs. Not even caring that he usually ended up so worked up he would start humping the mattress underneath him in an unconscious effort by his cock to get some sort of attention. 

He didn't even want to stop after he heard you whine and moan his name when you came. Why would he stop when he had the opportunity to lick up even more of your sweet nectar from your orgasm? No, he only stopped when he had his fill of  feasting on your cunt and your cum. Leaving you teetering on the edge of overstimulation. 

"Definitely my favorite treat. Hell fuck the cake, I just want your pussy as my birthday treat. What you think, doll? Can I have your pretty slutty little cunt as my birthday present? Can I eat it and play with it and fuck it whenever and however I want?" 

By now he started working his way back up your body as you clung to sheets arching into his mouth as he moved. Pressing your breasts against his face as he reached your chest. Greedily encouraging him to take one of your nipples into his mouth as his metal fingers pinched at the other. The contrast of his warm mouth and the cool vibranium making your skin prickle into goosebumps. 

After switching sides, making sure to give both perky pebbled nipples the attention they deserved, he made it back up to your lips. Kissing you once before nipping at your lower lip playfully. 

You had already wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull his pelvis to yours. Your fingers now tangled and tugging at the fabric of his boxer briefs trying to get them down. Desperately trying to get his cock free so you could feel him against your still soaked and needy cunt. 

"I'm waiting for an answer baby, tell me and then I'll take these off. Fuck you nice and hard. Can I have your perfect tight little hole as my birthday present? I want to spend my party making you scream and cum all over my cock." 

The sound of his filthy birthday wish pulled a deep groan from your chest. You wanted to spend his party doing that too, and what the birthday boy wants the birthday boy gets. You let your body go lax so he would be able to easily position you however he wanted you as you answered. 

"Yes, Bucky, holy fuck yes! My pussy is all yours, birthday boy. Use it however you want, James. All for you." 

"That's my good girl." 

He got back up on his knees and shimmied his underwear down and kicking them off. You eyes glued to his cock before it even sprung free from the fabric. A whimper falling from your mouth when a dribble of pre-cum dripped from his swollen flushed cockhead onto your low belly. A string of fluid running from his cock and starting to make a mess on you. He knew by the look in your eyes that he had you in the palm of his hand. So you promptly obliged when he told you what he wanted next. 

"Spread your legs farther, babydoll. Pull them back and hold onto your ankles for me. I want to see every little bit of my present." 

Quickly you worked to fold yourself in half as best as you could. Opening you up even more to Bucky’s gaze. His eyes raking over your body as be stroked his length a few times. Stopping only when you started to wiggle your hips, trying to urge him to touch you.

"Impatient, aren't you baby?" 

His tongue darting out to lick his lips, still swollen for having his face buried in your pussy, before a faux pout crossed his face. Cooing lightly at you as he started slapping his cock on your sensitive cunt. 

"God you look so fucking good when you get all needy for my cock baby. Saw you get that look in your eyes earlier. Knew that smart little brain had stopped thinking of everything but my cock. It's all yours baby." 

He placed his tip at your entrance and slowly started to push his hips forward. Sliding himself into you one inch at a time. Letting you feel every little bit of stretch he gave you. The feeling making you both moan in pleasure. Stilling in place once he had bottomed out inside you. 

"Fuck darlin', that's the prettiest thing I've ever seen. Look so beautiful getting fucked with my bare cock baby."

You gave him a seductive look and bit your lip. 

"Happy early birthday baby." 

With that, he gingerly drug his hands from the backs of your heels all the way down to the backs of your thighs. Gripping onto the flesh there and bracing you for his next move. Bucky slowly started to pull his hips back and started building speed with his first thrust back in. 

A feral look in his eyes as he watched where his cock was impaling you. Hypnotized by the sight. The image of your pussy stretched tight around his cock. The way his cock shined, wet with your arousal. It tipped him over the edge when he started hearing the wet squelch of your pussy as he thrust into you spurring him on to fuck you harder. 

The headboard starting to thump against the wall under the force of Bucky’s thrusts. A litany of swears falling from both of you. Your moans and squeaks as he pounded you accented by the sound of his full balls slapping against your ass. Each of you getting closer to climax with each sound the other made.

When he could feel his balls starting to tighten and he knew he was close to blowing, he let his flesh hand dip to rub at your clit. Smearing your wetness around to make his action smoother.  

After a moment of him touching your clit he found the perfect speed and spot. Feeling the fire start burning in your belly you let your eyes roll back in your head. 

"Oh fuck Bucky, right there! Don't stop, baby please don't stop!" 

His hips only sped up even more at your reaction. 

"Oh don't worry, dollface. I'm not stopping until I make a mess in my birthday present. You want that babydoll? You want to cum in you pretty girl? Let me hear it baby." 

Few things could throw you over the edge quite like Bucky when he talked dirty. It fueled that fire in your belly and sent it boiling over. As you came undone on his cock you practically cried for him to cum inside you. Your pussy squeezing and fluttering around his cock, practically milking him.

"James!!! Cum in me please, fuck I'm cumming for you baby. God you make me cum so good. It's your pussy daddy. Fuck it and fill it please, please!" 

By the time you had finished cumming, you felt his cock start to throb as he climaxed. Your body still jerking from your own orgasm with each stream of cum you felt him shoot into you until you were nearly overflowing. 

After a few minutes of basking in each other's afterglow, Bucky eventually pulled out of you with a groan and rolled over. Promptly grabbing you up in his arms again and pulling you over to cuddle. Pressing kisses into your hair as you drew little patterns on his chest. 

"If this is what I can expect for my birthday party, then happy birthday to me indeed." 

You gave him a wicked grin as you looked up at him. 

"Oh no, Buck, this was just practice. Remember? Your actual birthday party is going to be even more fun."

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

Back to main masterlist

[krispycreamcake]

Diabolik lovers x reader (various)

Guys don't bully me this is my first post istg i'll bomb your family

A symphony of explosions ruptured through the sky as the angels above blew their mighty vessels of war. Forks of lightning licked through the heavens, warning those near and far of the impending eruption soon to blast their ear drums. The cascading shower hydrated the manor's old stone walls, grasping at whatever cracks they could get into, only to slip away from the house's embrace at the last second. The moon nor its many luminous companions could be seen as their everlasting beauty was hidden behind storm clouds. A whirlwind soon picked up, shaking the trees like a damned mad woman, soon to be lobotomized. Amidst all this eternal chaos however, was a girl simply trying to survive. She was just dropped off at a glorious mansion that ironically, seemed to hold a sort of deathly allure to it, despite it being right out of a romance novel. She was currently sitting on a royal blue sofa of the finest quality, a strange and perplexed looking man with spectacles adorned the couch opposite her. He had raven black and white ombre hair. Regardless of their contrasting colours, it seemed to take well on him. He gave off a sophisticated but yet also suffocating aura that seemed to envelop the entire room. He looked at you in a bit of a shock after hearing your story, no matter how hard he tried to remain stoic, the words you spoke completely baffled him.

"Would you please further elaborate on what you mean by 'caretaker'?" The man asked, the words barely leaving his tongue.

"Well uhm, like I said, I'll be staying here until an heir to the Sakamaki name is made and then I'll be their caretaker. Mr. Karlheinz specified that he'd prefer I raise the child because well.... He didn't technically state WHY I'm supposed to basically mother your child, besides I-I mean you seem perfectly capable! It's just that, well that's what I was sent here to do". You said, trying to explain your task as quickly as possible. You couldn't pinpoint why, but an urge to leave planted itself in your gut and you felt the need to end this interaction as soon as possible.

The man stayed silent for a second before humming out an acknowledgement to your statement. The air was tense as he stood up and spoke.

"Well then, I'm not sure why we weren't aware of something like this, however, let me be the first to greet you to the Sakamaki manor y/n." Just as he said that, a young man with a head of scorching flames entered. His appearance was tattered and unruly. A pant leg was up, while the other remained down, his shirt wasn't fully buttoned and his tie was worn tied around his neck like some sort of odd fashion statement. As soon as his emerald eyes locked onto yours, a smirk creeped its way onto his face.

"Oi Reiji, you didn't say nothin about us having a guest over." The boy spoke, his voice gnarled and sharp.

"I was unaware of her arrival, that man apparently sent us a.....babysitter." Reiji sighed at the end, his imminent frustration growing.

"Uh no no- it's not like that! I'm just here to take care of your child..well future child. I didn't know you had a brother though, Reiji.." You piped in, your brows knitting in a slight confusion as you weren't informed of Karl having more than one son. You originally thought that his son and daughter-in-law were too busy to take care of a child, so that's why you agreed to this whole thing. But now that you were thinking about it, where exactly was the girl? Your thoughts were interrupted as the ruby haired boy let out a mocking snort.

"You mean to tell me that the old man didn't mention there being six of us? pfft- hah!" The boy spoke. Your heart almost plummeted into your ass as your mind slowly processed his words. Six??? There were six of them?

"Yes I'll have to agree with Ayato. It's odd that man didn't mention there's six of us." Reiji said as he fixed his glasses. "Well in that case, it seems an introduction should be made as soon as possible." As he finished speaking, a slight gush of wind hit you from all different angles. Suddenly four more men appeared out of what seemed to be thin air. They watched you coldly despite them all seeming to have different personalities. Silently judging you...no- not judging, but instead sizing you up. You've been in this situation enough times to know what men's stares mean, and these men wanted nothing good. The boy with purple hair spoke first.

"Teddy- what do you think of our new plaything? Doesn't she look lovely? I wonder what she tastes like, certainly not as good as Yui, but I'd still like to try." For the third time tonight you felt like you could scream. He wasn't being serious was he? This has to be some sort of persona, why would he even say that?? You inched behind Reiji, hoping the man could provide some form of shelter.

"Tsk. Go on and introduce yourself, or do I need to do that for you as well? Hiding behind me like a coward, slinking away the minute things seem to get too troublesome for you....honestly I have no idea why you were selected to come here in the first place. What does that man even see in you?" Reiji said with a scoff, his cold words leaving a shiver down your spine and a dent in your self esteem. You felt embarrassed as you sheepishly crawled away from Reiji to introduce yourself.

Once formalities were finally over with a few weird remark here and there, you were shown to your room. It was quite large, but you expected nothing less after seeing the size of the mansion. Truthfully, you were hoping to have a nice room this entire time. A dome glass ceiling sat right in the middle of the room, illuminating it with a blueish hue. The positioning of the bed was a bit odd, yet it captivated those who were to occupy in the residence. It was a circular bed that was laid with golden satin sheets and a marble platform which held up the delicate mattress. It stood right under the dome which would serve for lovely stargazing. There were many fine intricacies and details done to the bed's platform which made it seem much more compelling than a regular bed. The room was oddly laden with bookshelves and hanging plants. This seemed to soften up the room's regality and tone it down for someone of a more modern time. But you admitted that you wouldn't of mind sleeping in a princess like bedroom. Once you were done unpacking, you made your way downstairs since no one would be up at this hour. Instead, you were met with all brothers and a young blonde. She was delicately beautiful like a rose garden after a storm. You could feel her personality seep through from her meek behaviour. You did wonder though, who'd be the father if there were six of them? But before you could ponder the situation anymore, you noticed they were all in uniform despite it being night. You do recall that Karl mentioned they kept a bit of a peculiar schedule, but even so, is this really what he meant? School at night? You supposed it wasn't too weird for people of such high status to be so busy during the day that they'd have to go to school at night. But even so, how could a human possibly function like this? They'd all be braindead zombies by now, strange was definitely one of the many words to describe this lot.

"As we were late to know of your arrival, we hadn't planned for you to be joining us. Since you lack proper attire, you'll be staying back tonight." Reiji spoke almost exasperatedly. You almost felt a bit scared to stay in such an usual place by yourself. Reiji caught the look on your face and clicked his tongue.

"You truly think we'd let you stay here by yourself? One of us is going to remain here with you until the others are back." Reiji said bluntly. Who was it that was going to babysit you while they were away? Maybe this was your chance to learn more about your new housemates. Your eyes scanned the room, looking for your possible sitter. Then, in an instant you both made eye contact. Both orbs absorbed in each other as the others in the room seemed to be nothing more than an afterthought.

Ok so this is just part one of the series I'm planning. I'll let you guys vote on who it was that caught the reader's attention. TY for reading this btw :( I've been obsessed with this franchise since I was 11 so I'm insane currently.

[iznsfw]

The Devil's Telephone

IVE's An Yujin x Male Reader Smut

6969 words

Categories | model!Yujin x photojournalist!you, rough sex

Barely edited. Who cares, I did great.

"Is it true? What they say about you?" 

You're nervous, fidgeting  in the king-sized bed with your arm leaning against the mattress. It feels odd to be in a rich and attractive girl's place without being naked. Not that it's something you've experienced before anyway, but it's like breaking an unspoken law everyone but you was oriented to. But you have your manners, and so does she. Supposedly.

She's still beside you, her expensive clothes hiding not her shapely form. And to think it looks beautiful without the need for oil painting all around it or nakedness. That pretty smile, that also intimidates you a little, is the cherry on top of the cake that is An Yujin.

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?" 

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly. 

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

Yujin lifts herself off her comfortable lounge position on her bed and instead sits on the backsides of her legs. Her hands are on your lap rather than her own. Should've been a sign for you that this is going nowhere but in a downward spiral. 

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?" 

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

-

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm not," says Gaeul. "Say that one more time and your career's over. No going back."

The small smile that's an everyday accessory to her features is gone. That tells you that what she says is what there is to her statement. What you hear is what you get. There's no underlying tone to it; she's completely serious, and besides, when has Gaeul ever lied?

Wring the looped lace of your camera over your head and place it and the device that can make or break your career on her desk. "Nope," you say. "I'm not doing it."

"You will," Gaeul says. "Nobody else will do it."

"Can't you get Jiwon to show up there?" It's worth a try, right?

"Like I said, no chance. Rei's with her on vacation. And Yunjin is out of the question."

"God fucking dammit." 

Looks like this day can actually get worse. First, you miss the taxi going to the studio, ending up being about an hour late to your meeting. And then the nervous intern almost spilled coffee all over your camera. Luckily, the scalding liquid only ended up mostly on your pressed shirt. It's like the day is toying with your feelings, trying to see how far you can get without breaking down.

Your eye twitches. The day might see your breaking point after all. 

"Gaeul," you say, "I'm a photojournalist, not a fucking Seattle professional."

"And so are a quarter of the people who go to the fashion week," she counters. Gaeul exhales through her nostrils, then leans forward on her desk, hands folded. "All you have to do is stand in for Chaewon and take the photos for each model. Don't worry about the caption."

"How'll I know what they're wearing?" 

"I can do that for you. I'm quite the fashion enthusiast, if I do say so myself."

You don't see the sense in it, like, at all. "Then why don't you go take the photos?"

"Because I don't want to, newbie," replies Gaeul simply. She swings her legs over the table and places her palms behind her neck. "You can sit here all day whining about I'm-a-photojourn-this and I-can't-do-it-that, but you're still going to go through." 

Gaeul's a rather straightforward girl, yet she can still make her blunt words sound frightening. You have to show that you can hold your own, too, and that you're not going to back up. Ever.

"And why do you think I'll give in so easily?" you challenge. 

She smiles. "Because An Yujin's going to be there, and unless you live under a fucking rock, you'd know she's the main attraction."

-

You aren't dumb. Of course you know her. It’s impossible not to know of her when the magazines all scream her name and the camera flashes crave her presence. It’s hard to navigate life without at least seeing a Yujin standee for one of the brands she sponsors or her face on soju labels. She’s become a household name that, even if you somehow wished it to be the other way, she's become an inescapable force in every Korean’s life. That’s just how it works. It’s been like that for as long as you remember.

She rose up in the industry at a young age. Being her age, you can remember the buzz she creates among your classmates, from head-over-heels, hopeless romantic boys and adoring girls (and a few girls who'd die to be able to touch her, too.) She's on their phone wallpapers, in another cutesie pose, and on the photocards in the back of clear cases. She's here, she's there, she's everything everywhere. 

You're familiar with her, but nothing about her except the usual: she's a model, she's an idol, she's a—

Ah, how should it go?

The girl beside you at the event, who's rather tall and if circumstances were different should be on the runway herself, tells you it goes like this: "She's an international free-use backstabbing slut."

Well, you didn't expect Kazuha to say that so easily (she told you her name earlier just so you had something to call her during the mandatory small talk),  but you know what she's talking about. However, you have no right to say Yujin's a slut when you're dressed… well, dressed like this. Your whole outfit is an embarrassing array of rainbow colors. Even your tie's pulled into passiveness by the colorful dress code. If this is what those high fashion enthusiasts call "fashion," you're glad you're not a part of them. You'll be glad to keep shopping at your local thrift store. 

Hence, "I wouldn't put it that way," you say.

Kazuha smirks. "How would you say it?" she asks. 

Why is she so interested in what you think about her? You suspect Kazuha's one of those girls who's rather jealous of the stick-figure models strutting the runway but would deny it with all her soul. Maybe that's it. She's jealous that she sits there in the audience while perfection after perfection makes themselves known to the public. 

"She's…" You snap a pic of another eighty-pound model walking down the runway. "Uh, promiscuous. That's all."

Kazuha grins. She purses her lips and writes down on her notepad, probably intending to use your statement as a headline pun. "Maybe we should switch jobs," she says. "You can be the devil's advocate journalist, and I can be the white knight photographer." 

Exhale loudly. For fuck's sake, you want to tell her, I'm only here to do the job I didn't want in the first place. Why has she chosen you to play with to fulfill her boredom? Whatever game she's set, you're not joining. 

"Look, what is it about Yujin that you hate?" you ask. 

"She fucked Jang Wonyoung, those MCs she used to partner up with, that actress from the period drama who was on Produce, too… everybody."

"Okay." You look at her pointedly. "Source?" 

Kazuha gestures a rude index to the runway. "Look at her. Look at her and tell me she isn't a slut. I dare you."

You look up from the lens of your camera for once, and as much as you'd like to come to Yujin’s defense, seeing as there’s no evidence to all those allegations and being a public figure with all the criticism must be the deepest ring of hell, you see what Kazuha means. 

You hate to say it, and you’d love to pass no judgment, but the prodding journalist is right. Yujin isn't skin and bones like the other models, nor does she wear light makeup. However, her confident gaze that not once settles on the floor immediately makes you think, wow, now that is a model. She only looks forward, stepping onto the smooth floor in heels that make her much taller than she already is. Her eyes are lined with this sharp, blaring dark that makes her brown contacts stand out and makes her look like a black cat. So much for Jiwon’s nickname.

But that isn’t all. It’s far from done, because it’s not Yujin’s arrogant smile that drips of sultriness that confirms Kazuha's allegations for you, nor is it her makeup. It’s what she’s wearing. Her chest nearly spills out of the oddly-cut neckline of her blouse, and it’s see-through, meaning that even if her busty figure is in some way contained by the clothing, you can still see everything. For example, her tummy lined with her abs and a small tattoo (barely noticeable, but enough to cause a few tabloids to freak out); her wide hips, and of course; the bare flesh of her breasts. The fabric tape does nothing to hide them when her brown nipples beg to be seen through the fabric. Each bounce coerced by her confident strut is out there for all to see, and so are the jiggles of her full thighs. 

Which part of everything do you have to immortalize in a photograph? You don’t know. You just keep taking pictures. There’s plenty enough to create a video of her walk without actually having to record one. 

Seeing your dropped jaw, Kazuha grins satisfactorily. “Told you,” she says.

You aren’t done looking, though. As the press and audience scream her name, (they all know her name—she’s bagged so many brand deals, shot more than enough magazine covers, and performed songs you couldn’t count on two hands just so that any type of audience can recognize her), Yujin steps up to the end of the catwalk. She smiles at all the attention, setting a hand on her waist before blowing several kisses to the audience. 

And, of course, she finishes off her umpteenth walk with another scandal:

Shredding her blouse into pieces. Yujin rips it clean from the seams, letting the lost dangle of fabric finally reveal the whole of her chest. Her skimpy shorts are the only thing remaining complete on herself. 

The viewers gasp, and you do, too. But you're hypocrites, the lot of you, for you remain interested in scanning every bit of her enviable body. Secretly, you all know that some part of you were looking there even before her blouse ripped.

You haven’t seen a model do that before, but then again, she’s not just a model. She’s plenty of things: a singer, an idol, an ambassador—

A slut. A full-on, shameless, lives-up-to-her-name slut.

-

“So.”

“So,” you say, resentfully. Your camera’s in your bag, and Gaeul is on the phone with you. You’re proceeding out of the vicinity like everybody else. It's eight p.m.; someone’s bound to be hungry at this hour, and that someone is you.

You can hear the giggle in her voice as she asks you, “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you say, flabbergasted. Zip up your satchel bag and walk through the rain. “Gaeul, the girl just ripped her shirt off in front of everyone! This isn’t what I signed up for!”

What should you get tonight? Minute Burger? Maybe McDonald’s or some sushi? You’d take anything—you’re pretty hungry after the long show. If this is how hunger hits after shows, you’re glad you don’t have to go through the whole fashion week. By Saturday, you’d be as dead as everyone was after the stunt Yujin pulled.

“I thought you knew about her, newbie,” replies Gaeul. She’s clearly poking fun at your reaction. What’s also clear is the obvious fact that she picked you out for this job just to see how you’d handle it. Would you go crazy? Treat Yujin as a Victorian man who’d just seen a lady’s ankles would? Oh, she’d love to find out.

“I didn’t know she was…"

"Yeah?"

"B-bold.”

“Oh, please be normal about it. You’re a photojournalist. You handled the dead guy who was stabbed alright, but a woman showing her tits is where you cross the line?”

“It’s not that,” you say tiredly. Your stomach is really growling now. “I guess… I think…”

"Hey."

Your phone drops to the wet cement road. Like a haunting phantom, Yujin appears out of nowhere. It's like she suddenly materialized from the fog of the storm.

You don't know where to look. Yujin's still dressed, (somewhat), in her ruined blouse. The thing is even more transparent as the rain beats down on it. Still, she looks perfect. She is perfect. You know that without having to be a fan of her. 

The light from a camera hidden in a beaten bush makes you flinch. If the crouched man in black taking photos of Yujin isn't there, you'd have accepted your fate to get struck by lightning. Yujin raises her eyebrows questioningly, and you're forced to compose yourself once more.

"Uh, hi," you stammer. Bend down to pick your sodden phone up. Darn it, it's dead. How will you contact Gaeul now?

"You're one of the photographers, right?" asks Yujin. Unlike you, she doesn't care that your phone has met its end, or mind that her boobs are out in the open. 

You mutter something of agreement, but you're still tinkering with your phone. The battery's probably broken, which's a pity when your late mother gifted it to you on the last birthday you had together.

"Damn, must be nice to snap photos of a half-naked chick, huh? You liked seeing me up there?" 

That makes you stop fiddling with your destroyed gadget. "I," you say, cornered into confession but still trying to gather a burst of energy to escape, "I'm not—"

"An Yujin," she says, as if the whole world doesn't scream her name. As if she were just another girl out there who's a little too friendly. She doesn't offer her hand; she grasps yours and shakes it firmly. 

You have no other choice but to be acquainted with her there and then. You tell her your name, albeit nervously, as you slip your phone into your pocket. What is she planning? Why is she out here with you? 

Yujin grins. "Nice to meet you. Want to come to a party at my house? Starts when we get there."

Now you understand what she's planning. What else would you expect from her?

First things first, though: where should you look? Her chest is a dangerous option. To look or not to look? That is the question—you choose the second option. Note the dim stars in the foggy sky. Look down at the road blotted with raindrops. Remark inwardly about the state of your shoes and how they're too expensive to be dragged through a weather like this.

Second, should you go? Gaeul would be looking for you. She'd want the pics immediately so she could put them in the magazine and on your company blog site. But you haven't had fun in years, and for a girl with the wealth and status of Yujin, it might be a new beginning.

Work, however, comes first.

"I'm sorry," you tell her. You really are. Yujin seems like a fun girl outside of her wildness. "I don't think I—"

"Great! Come on, I'll drive you!" 

That's how you end up in a limousine for the first time in your life and learn that An Yujin doesn't take no for an answer. 

The seats are dark and soft, and there's two long aisles of it for thirty pax max to occupy. However, despite the spaciousness, Yujin still chooses to sit snugly beside you. Should you feel flattered? Intimidated? You struggle to choose for this question.

You wonder where you're headed. The infamous Jang Hills where celebrities like singer Son Seungwan and model and humanitarian Jang Wonyoung, who owns the place, reside? The rain is too strong for you to be able to see where the vehicle's headed, but you suspect that's the destination. There's no other. 

"So," says Yujin. She's still sitting comfortably beside you. Her smile dimples her cheeks, and it just doesn't match the boldness of her ripped blouse. When she wears that smile, she looks like a girl who's too cheerful and innocent to be… the way she is. "Would I have to pay you to see my photos?"

"For god's sake, Miss An, put on some clothes before you scare the guy," chuckles the driver, shaking his head. He's a tall, dark man with the typical shades and a rosary on his rearview mirror. You wonder if he prays for Yujin sometimes. 

"But that's no fun," she says, the pout on her face growing wider when her driver tosses her a black fur coat (that still reminds you of her when you note how the chest part is gone) and sleeveless innerwear. Seems like he keeps clothes in his car for situations like these. "Clothes are so big and boring, you know. Totally outdated.

"Anyway, about the photos…?" 

"Oh, you don't have to pay," you tell her. But you know that money isn't a problem with Yujin—she can buy you and your whole life if she chose to. 

"Gimme then." She makes grabby hands, and your camera eventually ends up in them. Her eyes sparkle with narcissistic adoration. "Oh damn, I look hot. Delete this, though. Bad angle."

"I– okay." 

"My tits look amazing, don't you think? Come on, say my tits look fantastic."

"Ms. An," says the driver firmly, albeit his tone holds some of the amusement in it still. "Put on some clothes."

Yujin rolls her eyes, but she does. And you watch as she strips, painfully slow. She pulls the soaked blouse above her wet body, showing her bare, beautiful arms and pits. Even her soft midriff is perfect. And, try as you may (must),  you can't stop looking. Several snaps and pinches would be too weak to pull you back into reality, because there's the goddess that she is to look at. You figure out now why your former classmates were and still are obsessed with her. She may be a wild little thing, but she's got an amazing body, an amazing fashion sense. Everything about her, even her boldness, is enviable. Desirable. Unreachable.

The clothes mold to her beautiful shape. The damp, slightly messy hair only adds to her beauty. You can feel yourself getting warm. 

"We're here," says Yujin cheerfully, oblivious to the way your eyes are raking down her perfect body. "Here's your camera. Wouldn't want it to break like your phone. Pity."

Getting up to open the car door isn't part of a wealthy girl's everyday life. Yujin isn’t an exception—she has her driver to do that plus assist her out of the limo, and when he does, you're welcomed into a whole new world.

The rain has halted. Signs of its earlier presence, however, can be seen on the drops on the maze of bushes. There's statues of Eros, gray and mighty with his strong arms and arrows, perched on pedestals to the entrance of the mansion. Through the gate, you catch sight of a large pool, where heiresses and friends of Yujin laugh and swim. It's no land for lowlives. You are the exception, somehow. 

"This… this is your house?" 

"Yep!” She nods positively. “Daddy gave it to me after he died from a heart attack."

"My condolences," you say. As the guards open the gate to Yujin's mansion, you admire the place. It looks like a temple for cupids. Perhaps it’s Yujin they’re worshiping.  "Did he have heart conditions before that?"

"No." She shakes her head then waves happily to one of her friends at the pool. "He just saw me wearing a bra over my crop top, and he dropped dead."

You snort. Yujin looks at you weirdly. That's how you realize she isn't kidding. 

"You're serious?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but forgets it. It's a long story that doesn't need more sequels. 

-

Just the second drink of the night and you’ve met more celebrities than an average person would see personally in their whole life. As the dazzling disco ball shimmers rainbow colors all over the place, you catch sight of more than plenty of pretty and handsome faces. Over there is Jang Wonyoung, one of the models who walked earlier, and Miyawaki Sakura, a famous CEO of more beauty lines than you can count on ten fingers. Whether their beauties are handcrafted or God-given, they all have something in common: they’re all A-listers—they’re relevant, popular, used to this wild lifestyle. Camera flashes have trained them not to flinch at the gliding lights. This is an everyday routine in their book.

However, you’re used to being behind the camera, not in front of it. You’re overstimulated by the sea of laughing, moving bodies and the loud music. While Yujin happily screams and downs several shots, you stand idly beside her, dizzy and tired. 

“I don’t think I can handle more.”

“Past your bedtime?” asks Yujin, grinning. She waves at Wonyoung and points at you, mouthing something to her, to which the model winks in response. You wonder what kind of exchange the two models had that granted an unusually smug look on Wonyoung’s face. You’re certain it’s about you, but you don’t know what it’s about. You’re not even sure if you want to discover it.

“It’s not that,” you say embarrassedly. “I’m… I’m not a party person. I get lightheaded easily.”

“Wanna take a break? Go to my room?”

Now that’s a red flag. It doesn't even try to hide its true color; it waves proudly in front of you. You’re the bull who went straight for it. 

Yujin’s bedroom is the size of your living room, with a large bed to match. Curtained pillars stand on each end while posters hang off the walls. You suppose that the people on them are the ones Yujin looks up to: IU, known as Lee Jieun whenever she ventures out of singing and into acting; Marilyn Monroe (no explanation needed), and a few other nameless models and actresses. A lot are old posters of seventies’ pornographic films. Lights frame the mirror on the dresser table. 

“You’re a privileged girl, miss An,” you say. It’s the only way you can respectfully say that she’s kind of a spoiled brat. But maybe that’s your jealousy talking.

“I know, right?” replies Yujin, twirling around. “And please, call me Yujin. You can sit on the bed if you want to.”

Your mind toys with the idea of the posters on her wall debating if you’re the hundredth person to have come over or the thousandth. Nevertheless, you want to stay neutral; it’s none of your business anyway. So you take a seat on the edge of the softest mattress you’ve ever felt while Yujin does so, too. She kicks her boots off on the carpeted floor. 

“Hey,” says Yujin, “want to play a game before you doze off?”

Just how many red flags does this girl have? “Er, sure.” You shrug. Maybe it’s just a game, nothing more, like she said. 

“Since we barely know each other, let’s take turns asking each other questions. Dibs on the first question.

“I haven’t seen you in shows before. How did you end up there?”

A safe start. “One of my coworkers was sick,” you explain. “I had to fill in for her. My turn.”

“Hit me.”

“Did you take modeling classes?”

Yujin laughs as if it was the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “God, no,” she says. “Classes and workshops are scams. All I had to do was ask my daddy to ask for a spot for me.”

“Must be nice.”

“Right? Did you take classes for photography?”

“I took one of the scams, yeah,” you say, earning a giggle from Yujin. “I’m a journalist first. It’s all I know.”

Meaningful silence fills the air. You remain hooked on your sentence, realizing how true it is. Photojournalism is the only thing you’re good at. It’s sheltered you and brought you so many opportunities at the same time. You don’t know how to find other hobbies to make your forte when you’re stuck in its bubble, and its bubble only. Without your camera, you’re nothing. Without people like Yujin to take photos of, you’re nothing, too. 

You suppose you should break the heavy silence. But you’re unsure if your question should be asked; it might trigger a violent response from her, although she’s been nothing but laid-back with you. And you don’t particularly want a rich girl to ruin your career. You’ve gone so far that the only direction to look at is forward.

But you must learn to take risks.

"Is it true? What they say about you?" 

You're nervous, fidgeting  in the king-sized bed with your arm leaning against the mattress. It feels odd to be in a rich and attractive girl's place without being naked. Not that it's something you've experienced before anyway, but it's like breaking an unspoken law everyone but you was oriented to. But you have your manners, and so does she. Supposedly.

She's still beside you, her expensive clothes hiding not her shapely form. And to think it looks beautiful without the need for oil painting all around it or nakedness. That pretty smile, that also intimidates you a little, is the cherry on top of the cake that is An Yujin.

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?" 

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly. 

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

Yujin lifts herself off her comfortable lounge position on her bed and instead sits on the backsides of her legs. Her hands are on your lap rather than her own. Should've been a sign for you that this is going nowhere but in a downward spiral. 

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?" 

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

You’re flustered. Did Yujin—this tall, alluring model that’s got her whole life ahead of her yet nothing to lose, this irritatingly attractive Yujin—really say that to you? Or was it something lost in the swarms of shouts and music from outside of the room? Maybe you’ve misheard. Maybe you’ll keep playing safe tonight. 

But those are just mere maybes with no connection at all to what’s about to happen.

“Can’t do it yourself, pretty boy? Let me help you.”

Yujin lifts your satchel bag from your shoulders. You find yourself raising your arms to help her. It’s like the what and tension in the air have infected you and made you into this heated, lustful character far from the real you, because if this were truly your own self, you’d say you had a career. You’d say this shouldn’t be happening. You’d leave the room instead of helping her unbuckle your belt. You’d do anything but this.

Perhaps she’s changed you.

Yujin slips a tongue along the path of her luscious lips at the sight of your bare thighs and cock. “Our friend here,” she says, “needs a little help from me, no?”

“Yujin…” you moan, and it’s humiliating, especially when barely anything sexual has happened yet. At least, anything sexually physical. 

Luckily for you, she curls her fist around your dick and gives justification to your breathy sounds. Maybe the rumors about how she likes to get around are true; Yujin knows how to work her way with a cock. Her warm fingers jerk your flesh at just the right timing, letting the hardness build up before doing that too with the pace. She’s looking at you with this wild desire in her eyes that grows bigger when your erection does, too. Oh, and that smile—if looks could kill, An Yujin would already be arrested for your murder.

“Now that’s not so bad, is it?” she remarks. She spits on your cock. Her wet saliva coats your length with just enough to let her smooth palm slide along itself pleasurably. “You like this? Just wait until you feel my pussy. Or maybe my lips would do first? The higher ones, I mean.” 

Yujin’s lips descend onto your shaft, welcoming it into an impossibly soft and wet heaven. Yujin’s little tongue flicks at your base gently, even daring to lick at a little part of your balls before working their way up. It deliciously slides upwards at your veins.

“Fuck, Yujin. Your mouth—fuck, it feels so good.”

“Mmm.” Yujin engages in an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss with your tip. “I know. I’d fuck me, too, if I could, but I have you to do that.”

“Right,” you say breathily, because she is. If she’s sucking your cock this well and her cheek’s painfully stimulating as your cockhead brushes it, how much better would her pussy be? You’re definitely fucking her, even if your experience in this is zero. Yes, that’s also right: you’re a virgin. Zero experience, no bitches.

But, if it means anything, it’s the other way around. It’s Yujin making you her bitch. She may be serving you with the lips and kisses of a good girl, but her eyes tell you that there’s more to it than you think. You’re hers, see, for this night, and that’s all you ever will be. You’re no photojournalist anymore—you’re Yujin’s one night stand, and that’s the only achievement people will ever remember to your name.

“These’re so fucking full,” murmurs Yujin as she admires your heavy balls. Sucking on them lightly before smiling up at you, she adds, “Make sure to blow all of it in my face, ‘kay? Promise me.”

“Think you can handle it, Yujin?” you ask, and it’s another embarrassing moment you’ll relive forever, for your cockiness will never get on the level she has. Your voice shakes too hard and your cock drips too much—it’s clear who owns who at this point.

“I’m a big girl.” Unfazed, she smiles. “I can handle myself.”

“Y-you sure?”

“Oh, don’t play hard to get it, baby,” Yujin coos. She pleases you with one hand and glides her fingers on your thigh with the other. It’s deadly. She’s deadly. “Let your guard down. It’s just me.”

“And you’ve said that to how many people?” you shoot back.

“More than you’re worth,” she quips. She winks at you. “Now cum for me.”

Ouch, but it doesn’t matter when her lips provide a great suction to cool the burn. It’s making your cock feel the heat instead, forming the tightness in your stomach more. Her hands massaging your thighs causes your sensitivity to reach an all-time high. Yujin’s covered your shaft in such an amountful that just one lick sends your toes curling. She licks, she sucks, she laps at your weak spots and delights in the upward push of your hips, but her hands keep your legs down. Can’t have her meal escaping. She wants all of your cum, and when Yujin wants (no, needs) something, she gets it. It’s how she’s navigated life, having everything her heart could ever want brought to her by whim. But if she has to work for your cum, then so be it. Either-which-way, she’s not giving up until she gets it.

She kisses your cock deeply, almost making your lips jealous. She sucks on each sensitive side and your dripping tip. What takes the cake, though, is how she downs the whole thing so suddenly, slipping itself inside her tight throat and letting you fuck it. Gasps can’t be contained by your pursed lips, and their cycle of repetition continues because of her. Because of Yujin, Yujin and her stupidly desirable mouth.

“Fuck,” you whine. When she hears that, she pulls away. Like rain, drops of semen make slick landings on her face. You keep expelling several shots of the thing she so desperately wants, and you realize that, even with your own pleasure being fulfilled, you’re still serving Yujin. You’re still giving her what she wants: your cum on her face. The fact that she’s playing with you remains stoic.

“Ah, this is the best.” Yujin licks her cumstained lips. “I could have swallowed it all like I did with these cherries here, but I can’t let it spoil the main course.”

“W-which is?” you inquire, still panting. Can you handle more? 

You find out through Yujin taking off her black vest. Then, she slips out of her jean skirt. It hugs her lower figure so nicely that it nearly makes you mourn their departure, but you find a better thing to gawk at, and it’s Yujin’s ass and thighs. She may have dressed earlier, but the panties were off. She cares not for modesty, even outside of the modeling industry.  It’s just not who she is. 

For that, you’re glad. If Yujin were modest, you wouldn’t have had the chance to see her fat ass and shaven pussy up close. You wouldn’t get to see her sway her hips side to side, letting you see from behind how her ass ripples and bounces, or let you peer at her dripping thighs. 

"You're weaker than all the others," Yujin notes. "I like it."

Should you be offended? Probably, but you aren't, because there's her approval. There's her saying that she likes how easily you break. There's her on the bed with her pussy spread by her fingers, revealing her tiny hole and needy clit.

There's a lot to look at is what you're saying, and a lot to take in consideration. For example—

"Ohhhh, fuck," moans Yujin. She rubs her core and gets a feel of how wet she is. "I'm so wet, see? I'm so, fuck, wet from blowing you."

Yujin leans against one of the pillars of her bed. What makes the sight of her masturbating hotter is that she's still covered in the face with cum that soon drips down her neck and onto her collarbone. She looks like she's been used incessantly, to the point where no amount of cock or finger can help her reach a good enough high. Although you're still sensitive, you begin to jack yourself off to her.

"Shit. Ohhh." Her head tosses backwards and she shuts her eyes. "This feels so good. Make me feel even better. Use your mouth."

It's all about what she wants, but you find out that you also want to put your mouth on her. Stop jerking off to kneel on the floor and place your hands on her thick thighs. You have no idea how to do this except from porn, but she moans loudly when you flick your tongue upwards, so you must be doing well.

Yujin's so wet that she dribbles on her expensive sheets. The feminine scent of her drives you crazy. Due to that, you pick up the pace of eating Yujin out. She's delicious. Better than any expensive meal you got going out. 

"Oh, fuck," mewls Yujin. She grinds her clit down on the flat of your tongue. "That's it. Eat me out like that."

Next, guide your tongue to her slit, catching the juices she has. Push it inside, make her thighs suddenly clamp around your head. Painful, but worth it, because as useful as her makeshift earmuffs are, you can still make out her heavy moans.

“G-good, god, so good. Don’t you stop, don’t you fucking stop.” 

“I won’t.”

The force of your mouth holds nothing back as it holds Yujin’s nub captive. She pulses in your mouth, and you can sense that she’s close because she’s screaming. She's squirming, she's writhing, she's—

“Stop.”

“But I, I thought you said—” You were having such a good time, too. Why did she have to ruin it?

Yujin giggles. “I wanted to cum on your cock,” she confesses. Sweat rolls down the sides of her face. “Let me?”

She’s subtly assertive like that, asking you first before making you do it anyway. She’s so used to getting her way, so used to letting people bend reality into the form she wants. And you’re becoming one of those people, as you lie down on the bed and let her mount you. You don’t suppose anyone would refuse either—her splayed lips rubbing your tip seems like a good thing to have in exchange for being under her ownership.

“Fuck,” you curse. Maybe this is better, in hindsight. Her hole grasps for you, but she teases it by only letting her clit glide along your cock. “Miss An, ah, Yujin, you’re so—”

“Pretty? Successful? Tight?” She sinks down on your dick with a smirk that differs from your weakened look of bliss. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

They’re all perfect adjectives to describe her, but you weigh in the most on the last. Her soaked slit swallows you without time to properly take it in. She just keeps bouncing on you, a millisecond going unspared, as if she’d die if your cock weren’t ramming in her all times of the day. By her desperate moans, you think you’re right. They’re heavy, hanging onto your mind for too long that it just makes you throb harder inside. 

You reach up to grab her tits. The bra-like innerwear she dons blocks you from experiencing the whole of it, and Yujin takes that into consideration, through which she pulls it up her arms and off herself. Her bust now moves up and down freely, looped in your mind like a constant reminder of how lucky you are to have Yujin fuck you. She may get around a lot, but whoever she fucks is like her: a hell of a catch.

 You lift yourself up to suck on their brown nipples. She moans ferally. Her pushing your head deeper into her tits is how you realize you’ve wanted to do this, to suck and play and slap her chest, ever since you saw them be set free on the runway. It’s funny how two mounds of flesh can hypnotize you just like that. You’re trying to defeat the impulse actions they convince you to do, as if they were spiritual entities on your shoulder each to twist your decisions. But both are devils—even from their source, it’s clear that An Yujin is no angel.

“Yes, so good!” she screams. Her eyes are shut as she rides you with an impulse and speed that surely can’t be human. The pleasure she unleashes onto your cock as her pussy clings and gropes it must be the embodiment of the deadly sin of lust itself. It was written before in holy books, preached as a warning in churches. There’s no explanation for how angrily she impales herself with your cock. “Your cock’s too fucking big, I’m going to cum all over it!”

You spank her ass, and the plentiful skin wiggles right back into your hand. Seeing her face twist up into this pained yet blissful reaction inspires you to continue. That and your cock entering and exiting her hole, plus your kisses following the path of her neck makes Yujin go crazy. 

“Fuck me!” She’s fully unhinged when she cums. Her short yet sharp, alliterate downward thrusts of her core leaves red on your thighs. She’s kissing you with this hunger that’s been fulfilled, in a way, but with which comes gluttony. She can’t have enough. She can’t have enough of your dick. It starts to scare you how she’s like the girls your pastor warned you about in Sunday school—she’s a gluttonous nymphomaniac greedy for things that aren’t good for her. Aren’t good for you.

Having sex with An Yujin makes you debate if you should go back to your religious roots and pray again. You’ve heard about the devil hiding behind human faces, and she completely fits the criteria: charming, deceiving, gorgeous beyond human comprehension. However, her divine body also can be something holy. It’s something that’s more than worth worshiping.

Which is which: evil or good? Angel or demon? A goddess who descended to earth or something far, far more dangerous? 

Whichever, you just busted a load inside exactly that. 

-

“So.”

“Hm?”

“Come on, tell me,” you say. Yujin’s teasing banter piques your curiosity to higher levels. “Did you really fuck all those people, or is it just,” shrug, as if you couldn’t care less when you do, “you know, hearsay?”

Yujin strokes your chest thoughtfully. The aftermath of the rough sex has left her almost invalid, but after a shower, she’s good to go. You followed suit after.

“The devil’s telephone,” she whispers.

“Huh?”

“Here. You know where to call me.”

[whoistartaglia]

come one, come all

there’s a fabulous magic show in town hosted by the two most famous magicians in fontaine. you unknowingly meet one of them—lyney, a man with a smile full of secrets—in a quiet bar in monstadt.

lyney x reader (pre-release)

there’s a curious man sitting next to you at the bar.

the tavern you frequent is located in a small village at the edge of monstadt, known to host the occasional traveler and adventurer, but none as peculiar as him. his clothes are clean and fashionable, and there’s a look on his face like he knows more secrets than you, has more tricks up his sleeve. moreover, what’s stranger is that he ordered only one drink and has yet to touch it, only observing it, faintly reminding you of a moth studying a flame.

“is something wrong with it?” the man breaks out of his hypnosis at your teasing question, and looks up in suprise. you explain, “i know the bartender, and he’s really great. if something’s the matter with your drink i know he’ll replace it.”

“oh, no,” he says dismissively. “it’s nothing like that. i was just interested in it—we don’t have this brand of wine where i’m from.”

“and where’s that?”

“fontaine,” he replies simply, and yes, now that he says it, you can hear the distinct accent.

“why are you in monstadt?”

“for the same reason everyone else is, i imagine,” he replies, taking a ginger sip from the glass. “for the show.”

ah, yes, the show. a magic show, famous in fontaine and most of teyvat for its impressive tricks and wonderous miracles. you’ve been hearing of it since the twin magicians announced their arrival to monstadt to entertain and wow the masses.

that’s why there are more than an abundance of travelers, adventurers, foreigners, in monstadt. some of them have tickets; many don’t. they hope the magicians will take pity on them and spirit a ticket to them in the middle of the night. or maybe they intend to steal one from actual holders. perphaps a bit of both.

“are you also going?” he presses.

you purse your lips and look down. “no, i’m not.” the tickets were too expensive and too difficult to get your hands on.

“did you want to?”

“of course i did,” you respond, the words coming out more bitter than you intended. it’s the closest thing to magic the world has to offer. tricks to make you forget it’s only an act; displays to dazzle even the most prudent of disbelievers. card tricks, doves from hats, sawing a lady in half and convincing the audience she’s actually been split in two.

of course you want to go. anyone in teyvet would, especially you, who comes from a small town in monstadt, who may never see anything like it again.

“i see,” is all the man says.

there’s an uncomfortable silence you feel obligated to break, and you ask after a second, forcing the lingering bitterness out of your tone, “are you going to watch?”

“yes,” he says, hesitating. “i am…going.”

“do you have a good seat?”

he smiles faintly.

“the best in the house.”

“i’m glad.” you swallow and stand up, placing down enough coins for you and the stranger. he watches you with veiled interest, especially the way you straighten up and conceal the frown creeping on your face.

“i should go,” you tell him. “i’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“yes, you do” he says faintly, agreeing with you. before you can opine on the strange statement, he smiles. “it was wonderful to meet you.”

you turn and leave, waving to the bartender wiping down the bar as you do. before you’re out the door, he calls, “i shall see you tomorrow!”

you pause and turn back around, intent on correcting the man, but he’s already gone—leaving nothing but a golden, shimmering ticket left in his wake.

•••

it’s a trick, a lie, a falsity. your subconscious screams at you that the piece of paper in your hand, that reads admit one in black inky letters, is a fake. it can’t be real—there’s no way.

yet you find yourself traveling to the shining capitol, with the ticket clutched in your hands. the wind begs to rip it away and the crowded streets tempts it to get lost and stolen, but you hold on tight, your grip only loosening when you hand it to the collectors at the front entrance.

they let you in without a second glance, and still in a state of disbelief, you find your seat, front row, center spot. best seat in the house. you look around for the man you saw last night but he is nowhere to be found, and a part of you wonders it he gave up your ticket for you. but that doesn’t make sense, you just met, it’s too peculiar, too much like a fairytale, a magic spell, come true.

your wandering thoughts are caged and tamed at the diming of the lights. you turn and face the center where a spotlight shines and a puff of smoke reveals two figures. the twin magicians. lyney and lynette.

the crowd errupts in applause, it’s the first trick of the evening, and you join in, until the smoke fades, and the magicians come into view. the sister with cat-like ears smiles adoringly at the crowd, and the brother does the same. but whereas lynette’s eyes are roaming, meeting as many fans as possible, lyney’s have yet to leave you.

at your shock and surprise, lyney dips his head slightly, and smiles, all too familiar from last night. turning back to the main crowd, he introduces himself and his sister, and announces to the crowd.

“come one, come all! we have a great show in store for you! magic will be casted, miracles with be had, and...” his eyes find yours again, and winking he continues, “hearts will be stolen, tonight.”

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Hello, I hope you are well. If it’s no trouble I’d like to put in a request King Baldwin x reader where she’s a kind but spoiled princess and spends money on new clothes in the latest fashion from her country. Baldwin has been asked to talk to her about her spending habits but he sees how happy it makes her getting new clothes from her home country because she’s expressed how much she’s missed it and in a way helps with her being homesick. A bit inspired by the Marie Antoinette scene where she’s trying on different clothes while eating the most delicious of cakes. Thank you.

♡ For You, My Love - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

♡ Fluff ♡

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for the request, I like this idea a lot. I hope it's what you had in mind! (also I'm sorry its taken so long to get to this request 😭). As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy (barely mentioned in this one).

“Oh isn't it lovely Baldwin” y/n said happily, twirling around the room in her brand new gown. “Yes, it is beautiful my love” the king replied, looking up from his work to observe. He smiled as she admired herself in the mirror.

“It's the latest of its kind you know?” she said cheerfully. “It has only been available since last week! Isn't that amazing?!”.

Baldwin chuckled, “indeed, it is a gorgeous dress and you look impeccable in it”.

He loved seeing how happy receiving the latest fashion from her home country made his wife.

The queen had expressed to him one day that she missed her home and just wanted something to remind her of her family and their people.

She also missed the fashion. She loved the fashion of her home country. She even spent time designing dresses and other clothing in her free time.

The very same day, the young king sent a few servants to purchase some items of clothing from her home, for him to present to her as gifts in hope help her overcome the homesickness.

It worked like a charm.

That was many months ago now and since then her collection of the latest fashion had grown significantly.

She spent an awful lot of money on her collection and her spending habits had caught the attention of some royal officials who were more than displeased by the situation.

“My lord, you must speak with the queen about her spending” one had approached him to say. “She has spent far too much money on clothing in the last few weeks. It is inappropriate for a young woman to be so.. materialistic!”.

Baldwin had scowled at the man's statement.

“How dare you comment on my wifes modesty. She is your queen and you ought to show her respect” he pointed a gloved finger at the shorter man's chest. “She is more than permitted to spend as much as she likes on whatever she wants”.

The king had not mentioned anything of this interaction to y/n, simply allowing her to relish in new clothing each week.

He adored seeing her so happy. Watching her twirl around their shared chambers in new, brightly colored formal gowns with the biggest smile on her face was everything to him.

He would do anything to make her happy. Her smile was so beautiful.

However, there had been whispers around the castle about how she was “spoiled”. This angered the king immensely. She was the kindest soul he had ever met. She simply had a love for fashion. Was that such a crime?

Baldwin did everything in his power to shield his wife from the judging remarks of others, but occasionally, one or two split through the cracks.

More than once, he had discovered her crying in the royal chambers after somebody had insulted her about what she was wearing.

You see, the fashion of the queen's home country was far different to that of Jerusalem. It was far more extravagant and less “practical” as somebody had put it.

Still, she wore the dresses around the castle but would change into something better suited for a desert before going out . So she did not understand why people were so harsh.

“It's not like I'm wearing a ball gown while riding a horse? Why are they so rude?” y/n had told her husband through tears.

“They are just jealous, my love” Baldwin said.

“They are jealous that they themselves can not look as beautiful as you and afford the clothing that you can”.

He cupped her cheek in his hand, admiring her soft, perfect features. “You are so kind, my queen. You are the exact opposite of ‘spoiled’, you deserve the world and I will do anything to give it to you. Spending some money is the least I can do for you” he told her.

Y/n tried her best to ignore the words of others and remember her husband's words instead.

But still, the only place in the castle she was truly happy was in the royal chambers, trying on brand new gowns as Baldwin watched, complimenting her on each one.

That is where the queen was the happiest, and the king would continue to provide her that happiness, no matter what he was advised of doing.

[hobisstar]

What are you hiding from love?| Yandere!Jk x Reader V Last Part

Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one.

Warnings: Murder, Jungkook victim blaming ( like he will say i killed you because you are too stupid or whatever), Possessiveness, Mentions of Smut, Controlling, Locking up YN.

Taglist: vante 🫶🏾

A/N: This is made to be scary! That is all. I honestly dont like mixing smut with yandere because i read yandere fics to be spooked not horny lol. This has been absolutely fun to write for you guys! Im so happy how much love it had gotten over the past month since ive been writing it! I love you all so so much! Enjoy!

Its been about two years since Jungkook decided to let yn go on her own! So far, yn has become the owner of the coffee shop, has opened up plenty of them across Asia and plans to open some in The Untied States.

Life has been looking absolutely beautiful for yn! But heres the thing.

Bodies have been discovered. Fresh bodies. Of course going through what she went through with Jungkook, she feared that this was his doing. That the so called hobby has now reached the news channels. Though it says that the crimes has been in only England, it was still capability of it being Jungkook.

“Yn! Are you even listening? Im telling you Namjoon wants to take you on a date!” Joy, yns now close friend that she has gained from opening the coffee shops.

“Sorry, but i dont think im ready to date. The last guy was for 5 years and it didn’t turn out well in the end.” Yn mumbled looking over at the tv that was on the crime scene of the killings.

But what was showed, made yns blood run cold.

What was at the crime scene was dandelions.

The flowers that Jungkook always used to gift her on days he felt like we did something wrong. He would cut the steam off and just leave the flowers to never be able to grow again.

Was he…back?

It was closing time and of course yn being the owner, she decided that it was her duty to close every single night.

But tonight, she couldnt shake the feeling that she was being watched.

As everyone was leaving she saw a guy with a big hoodie on taking his time to clean up his mess on the table. Putting his crumbs inside a napkin then taking the napkin and closing it tightly then throwing it out.

yn watched from behind the counter taking containers from the counter and putting them on the shelf behind her.

This mysterious guy has been coming in everyday. Same time. She never serves him but she knows Joy does and she hates serving him. ‘His glare, it can kill.’ She would say when describing the eyes of this mysterious man.

While cleaning she saw the guy get up and come up to the counter.

Face mask on and glasses… sun glasses.

Its night time.

Maybe it was a fashion statement. Thats what yn left it as. “ Hi sorry we are about to close soon so im gonna have to ask you to leave..” is what she was aiming to say but once she turned around she saw he just left a napkin with hand writing on it.

She grabbed it and began to read it:

��Hi baby! Oh its been such a long time, oh how i miss you. Our child also misses you. 2 years right? That is let you go? Ah, I remember something. Today is our anniversary! Our now 7 year anniversary. Im picking you up at 11! Be ready!

JJK,”

Yn was at this point shaking. Fear took over her body but was trying to hide it. She wasnt doing such a good job at that. As much as she wanted to call the cops, get him arrested, she knew that those cops had no chance in trying to get Jungkook.

Hed kill them all in the blink of an if he even knew that they talked to yn.

When yn got home she didnt let the fact go that when she got there she obviously saw Jungkooks car right outside her town house.

Mind you this is the 5th time this year she has moved. None of the reasons dealing with Kook but they definitely where personal reasons.

She braced herself, once she goes inside her home, Jungkook will be inside.

She could call the cops and run away from home then go to Jins house.

Actually now that Yn thought about it, what if Jin had something to do with it? He was always to calm for her liking honestly. Why was he always just so calm with him? I mean he explained it yes, hes seen it for so many years but why didnt he at least call the cops? Then again was the cops really gonna help him?

Entering the home, it felt like deja vu. Coming home on anniversary and Jungkook was cooking their favorite shared dish.

Spaghetti! Yn liked it because it was delicious and Jungkook probably like it because it reminded him of blood.

“My love! You are right on time! The Spaghetti is hot and ready to be platted. Get comfortable and come eat”

He didn’t need to turn around for yn to know that it was actually him. He colored his tattoos, became more swoll and also cut his long hair.

Yn didnt change anything or didnt get comfortable since this was all just too much for her.

‘Keep calm and go with his plan, yn.’ Thats all she kept telling herself.

Though what was his plan? Drug her? Kill her?

Well, none of those. He wanted her back. If that meant living in this house with her, then so be it. Jin had Bam so, they’d have plenty of time together.

Finally he sat down with two plates of spaghetti and there he was in all his glory.

He had the cockiest smirk while toying with his now new lip ring before sitting down across from yn.

“ Fucking finally, i have you again.”

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

TMAGP 26 Thoughts: Sam is awkward. Celia is hot.

Yet another guest writer episodes and this time it's Muna Hussen. She' co-creator and producer on The Silt Verses, and produced and acted in I Am In Eskew. The Silt Verses is a show I can wholeheartedly suggest giving a listen. It's great in just about every way a thing can be. I might leave a pitch for it as an addendum. I Am In Eskew is in the forever pile of things I may one day get to. It's a really well written episode too, I liked this one a lot. It is, unfortunately, another pretty explicit one so I don't expect to have a load to say, but that's not the same as it being bad.

Spoilers for episode 26 below the cut.

Celia and Sam's conversation doesn't have a load of note in it. Yes, they're going to meet Helen but that's for later. The important detail here is how Celia categorises her incidents. Which she does with the least effort imaginable. She's not had any misfiles yet which tells me that either those no longer happen or you just need to get it in the right Section. But more importantly than that it's also a good look at just how little she cares about the job. We've all known she's had ulterior motives from her introduction but it's nice to see ways that is reflected.

Much like the last incident there isn't too too much to rip into for what I talk about. I'm not sure the themes of this one speak to any greater connection and the characters are all new as far as I know. Which only really leaves one detail to talk about. The Archivist or, rather, *an *Archivist as that's the more interesting detail. The Archivist here didn't really do much we've not seen before. The forced running isn't to dissimilar to the forced drowning and Jarrod did seem to be mumbling in classic fashion. No statement to be heard as such but that might just be because of the framing. However, unlike previous run ins with an Archivist they're very much aware that they're not the only one. Whether this leads to something more grand or not is hard to say but it's an interesting detail.

Alice is finally up to episode 11 with the plot. More seriously it's nice to see her piecing things together now. I do wonder if that was Chester's point or not. Gwen was a little weird in this interaction IMO. Alice and Gwen shared a fairly major revelation together, that this ties into, but she seems to have distanced herself a lot from that emotionally already. Which isn't out of character but does come a little fast.

Helen is *very *Helen here. I think of all the returning characters she might have changed the least. At least from where she started. It's lovely to see her back, although I do wonder if maybe they're leaning on these characters a little too much at this stage. It's hard to know if this is one-off fanservice or the way of things going forward. I hope it's the latter because the less of the old cast we get the more of the new cast we'll see. There isn't a huge amount to say here but its good to see them getting more information about the Institute. Also, unfortunately Helen is still a tory. Categorically disproving the "these characters are now living their best life" theory. It's all still hell. I'd also include the transcripts note for the laugh but that's a TMA spoiler and probably one person hasn't seen that show. Besides if you know, you know.

Sam and Celia finally fucked. Good for them. Well, bad for them if TMA is anything to go off for couples in this setting. But, y'know.

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

Incident/CAT#R#DPHW Master Sheet and Terminology Sheet

DPHW Theory: 4463 is pretty normal for this, I think. No major surprises.

CAT# Theory: 1 is a 1. I'll maybe try to write an essay on this before the season ends. No prommies tho.

R# Theory: BC seems about right.

Header talk: Exhaustion (Athletic) -/- Compulsion (Tape). Also very very normal.

I guess I will write that addendum then.

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

Addendum: Go listen to The Silt Verses.

It's a horror audio drama that's more or less a world where the modern religious landscape is a polytheistic one, with fabricated corporate gods putting pressure on local ones, outlawed religions, and all sorts of fun stuff. But it's a world where religions, fabricated or otherwise, are also powerful and gods do exist and perform miracles. It follows two worshippers of the Trawler Man, and outlawed god, on their pilgrimage up its great black river. As you might expect things don't go smoothly and soon enough there's a man hunt, run ins with cults stranger than theirs, and all sorts of revelations.

The world building is a real high light too. It's just the right level of "this world is horrific yet treated as mundane". It's worth listening just to see how that's all built on.

I rate it a strong prisoners-buried-alive-in-the-foundations-of-new-construction-projects-to-bless-them/10.

[acecase0]

No cuz do you ever just realize how powerful lucy is?

She was able to conjure ALL of her celestial spirits, 3 or 4 of them being fricking ZODIACS, all at once and being powerful enough to be recognized by the celestial spirit king? And all in the first season? Where she hasn’t even had her star dresses and other abilities she has learned?

Not to mention this theory about her being a descendent of the goddess Anna, the best Celestial Spirit user.

And im rewatching it rn, and ive already encountered a moment where if she didnt interfere, natsu would have died. The arc with phantom lord where natsu is battling gajeel? Gajeel had eaten iron but there was no fire for natsu to eat, and so Lucy gave him that fire by using Sagittarius. Without that fire, natsu definitely wouldnt have finished that fight.

People are always saying ‘oh well that may be so, but if she hadn’t joined the guild-‘ Phantom lord would have most definitely attacked them for another reason. They wanted to remain the best guild in Fiore. Fairytail challenged that, so it was just a matter of time before they fought.

“Well, she always gets in their way-“ Yeah, considering the fact that she grew up in a household where her fathers only concern was the family line, she wouldn’t exactly have time to practice her magic. The only spirit she really had was Aquarius, and we can infer that she only brought her out on very few occasions. And she also wouldn’t have been able to build up any target practice or any muscle building, since Jude would say, in the stupid old fashioned way, ‘women don’t need muscles. All you need to do is make yourself look presentable to find a husband.’ He definitely wouldn’t have wanted her practicing her magic.

Meanwhile, all the others grew up in an environment where they could practice their magic freely with other wizards. They had teachers and activities that enhanced their magic and physical builds, she didn’t. So of course she wouldn’t be able to be on their level so soon.

Also, the amount of magic it takes to summon a silver spirit is a lot, but even MORE so for a Zodiac. Mashima explained that it pretty much is on a scale from 1-100. Plu being the easiest to summon at one, and her highest silver key being Lyra at 18. Her golden keys on the other hand, has Aquarius at 100 and the lowest being Cancer at 52. Others talk about the spirits only being able to use as much magical power as Lucy uses to summon them, but i doubt that theory/statement.

And its also amazing even then because she can keep those gates open for a tremendous amount of time, and multiple on some occasions. I don’t know if this part is true, but i believe that the mage has to have at-least some level of concentration on the gate for it to keep open, so if that’s correct, then it makes it even more astounding that she is able to focus on the bond at all times while fighting. And i only say this because her spirits go back to the spirit realm when she is knocked out.

Also during the E.N.D arc, (haven’t gotten there yet, seen bits and pieces) she literally REWRITES the E.N.D book that Zeref HIMSELF wrote. She literally rewrote his fate. And yes, i know that Gray was there to help her out, but at the same time, most people would have still not have been able to handle the mental and physical strain that causes.

And im just guessing on this part, but didnt she learn an entirely new part of her magic by someone in blue pegasus and learned how to preform the spell in like a week? Month? Some other very short time span?

Anyways i just love lucy and i would litterally rather show everyone my ao3 library before letting her get hurt/bashed. Lmao

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Like I Want You (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Like I Want You

series summary:  

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

Joker feared nothing in life except you. No matter if you said your warning in a fit of hysterics they hold meaning. Will you hold him accountable or will Joker have a chance to start over and finally learn more about his Light?

author's note:

Hello darkness my old friend!! I promise I’m not dead! I’m back with a long chapter to make up for the long wait! Fun fact it was even longer… hehe don’t you just love editing? The chapter was dragging on and it didn’t flow properly so I had to cut it. It’ll be included in the next chapter I promise kinda like a 'pick up where we left off' type deal.

Once again thank you all so much for waiting 😫😭😭 I don't deserve this much love and support!! Also please listen to Like I Want You by Givēon to enjoy this chapter to its fullest! I hope you enjoy!

A TRIGGER WARNING IS INCLUDED IN THIS CHAPTER REGARDING Y/N'S PAST WITH **** PLEASE SKIP IF THIS AFFECTS YOU!

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse

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Sarai was the first one to react after your mini episode.

You were still not yourself and the meds she administered weren't helping things, however; your warning was heard loud and clear.

'You hurt my friends.. and I'll never.. forgive you.'

It was a bold statement, one that the dark clown wasn't handling very well.

Sarai glanced over at Joker who had yet to say anything. He was watching you sleep while you were completely unaware to the fact that you just flipped his world upside down. It was unnerving to see him at a loss for words.

Sarai cleared her throat and tapped your IV drip hanging from the bedpost. "This'll be empty in two hours. Call me when it does."

Joker remained unresponsive so she sighed and focused her attention on your friend in the room. If Sarai remembered correctly, her name was Morgana but just in case she heard it wrong, she didn't call it out directly.

"It's my day off 'n the Fashion District is just round the way. You come with me." She zipped her bag close and waved for Morgana to follow her.

It didn't take a cryogenist to know that Joker needed some time alone with you. His thoughts were plentiful and they weighed on him heavily. However Morgana didn't read the room. She eyed the doctor sideways and stood her ground.

She promised your mother she would watch over you. "I'm not going anywhere. Y/n needs me!"

Sarai was already at the door but turned on her heel to address Morgana.

"She's sedated and I doubt she'll need anything for a few hours. Now, grab ya shoes and ya purse, we're dropping a band. Is my payment ready? Joker?"

Sarai called his name two more times yet he didn't respond.

He was still frozen like a statue, still trying to process your words. It was only after Sarai walked up to him that he blinked out of his fog and glared at her. His body language was defensive and ready to maim. He was back to normal after all.

"My payment?" Sarai dragged out.

Joker waved Sarai off like a pest. "The usual."

She faced Morgana with a wide grin, "We rich! If you need me, send for me!" Sarai shouted over her shoulder at Joker.

She pulled Morgana out of the bedroom and eventually the apartment despite the florist pitching a fit the entire way. Then, Joker was finally alone with you.

So much had transpired during the week apart he felt like he was back to square one with you.

The weekend he spent with you in Martha's Vineyard felt like a dream and so far from reality. He could never forget your beautiful smile or your soft, hesitant touch making him feel like a man reborn. He'd seen the light and experienced its power and now that same light had been snuffed out.

It was disheartening and Joker would not let it stand.

Joker believed you were somewhere buried underneath the pain and trauma of your past.

His Light, an educated bookworm who stuttered under pressure yet quick to raise her voice if someone was in the wrong. That had to be your Blüdhaven upbringing at play. You were a little spitfire in hiding.

He longed for that Y/n, the one that was slowly coming out of her introverted shell. The version of you whom he had inevitably grown to love. Suddenly, a weight lifted from his chest.

Joker could say it now. Love. He loves you.

The very meaning of the word made him feel as if he was underwater fighting against a current.Saying the word up until now made him choke up.

For so long Joker wondered, how could a person blindly love another? To willingly sacrifice everything, their very life, all to please their beloved? It didn't make any sense to him. Then Joker met you and it was sooo easy to risk it all, he questioned how he didn't believe sooner.

He thought people were stupid when they said, 'I found my person.'

He'd been around the world and seen the worst of humanity, but when he looked at you, he was humbled beyond words. If Joker was evil incarnate, then you were a goddess walking on Earth.

And woe, to whoever caused you this pain.

Your Dark Prince would burn cities in your honor. You need not worry about the misdeeds that Joker committed in order to keep you happy. All you needed to do was enjoy the spoils of war.

If keeping you in the dark kept you by his side, then so be it. It didn't soothe his conscience though. Joker thought his shady actions were just but you and your naïve view of the world, would not see things his way.

He would always be the villain in your story even if he paraded around in the sheep's clothing.

Joker could lie till the sun turned blue, but in this moment while you slept blissfully unaware, he would show his hand. Only then would he have the strength to deceive you and remain by your side. But first he needed proof that you were sound asleep.

Joker leaned forward to run his fingers down your cheek. You didn't move a muscle.

Color was coming back to your complexion in the short amount of time that Sarai administered fluids. Your body was struggling to keep up with your emotional outbursts and Joker knew that this was only the beginning to a long process of healing.

He knew you had your demons but you were so secretive about them.

Anytime your past was brought up in conversation, you found a way to dodge the subject. It was frustrating but it piqued his interest.

He deserved to know every aspect of you since he was fully invested now.

Joker felt like he should be the only one mentally unstable in this relationship. He accepted that his mind was ruined a loooong time ago but you? You didn't deserve this. You were a beacon of light, a motivation to so many, (Joker included) and without that natural source of light, he felt off kilter.

Slowly but surely, you and your inner light was changing Joker for the better and he was feeling the side effects now that you were temporarily out of commission. He didn't want to go back to the life he led before meeting you. Life had no meaning, no spark. He was just an empty shell of destruction searching for something worthwhile.

Joker couldn't go back to that. He needed��his Light back.

Sarai stated it would take two hours for your IV bag to empty. That gave Joker plenty of time to confess.

He grabbed one of the accent chairs from the fireplace area and brought it over to the side of the bed. He settled into it with a sigh while his eyes roamed over your slumbing form. Morgana had tucked you back under the covers before Sarai all but dragged her out of the apartment.

Joker made a mental note to wire the doctor more funds.

The woman was a nuisance but she proved herself useful time and time again. Joker was glad to have someone like her on his payroll. She acknowledged that he needed time alone with you and got Morgana to leave the premises without drawing attention to his dilemma.

Speaking of which...

Joker cleared his throat. He had so much to say and not a lot of time left to say it in.

"I've done so much that I'll never uhh, atone for but your words Bunny.. They haunt me. I think I already broke my promise to ya, doll." He looked at your closed eyelids.

You looked so peaceful fast asleep; he felt like a coward for speaking on deaf ears. Yet his conscience would be clear if he got this off his chest.

"I-I didn't mean to but.. Florence she's.." Joker swallowed thickly.

You were asleep but in a way, he felt ashamed for what he'd done. Deep down Joker knew you would never forgive him. This would be a confession he'd take to the grave.

"I did it because I had to, Y/n. I'll do any-thing to keep you safe. To keep us safe. That's all I want. Us. T-Together. But I fear if—" Joker stopped and snorted to himself.

"No. My bunny is smart. There's no if. I fear when you find out about all the horrors I've done and uh, will do– you'll leave me. And I... I can't have thaT. Not when I just got ya."

Joker looked down at his hands and grimaced at the invisible blood staining them.

How could you stand them?

You swore up and down that you loved Joker's hands and more importantly, his touch, but the level of trust you willingly gave away troubled him. Everything Joker touched, he destroyed. How were you any different? He left nothing but pain in his wake and he didn't want to hurt you again.

You were a delicate creature in his eyes, a goddess gracing him with just your mere presence. He had no right to touch something so pure.

His hands were forever dirty. Joker's palms were calloused and he had flecks of red and white makeup near his fingers. Joker noticed his nails were getting a bit long and smirked.

If you were awake and in better spirits, you would attack them with nail clippers, making them pretty and worthy to hold, but even then, Joker still didn't see what you saw every time you reached out to hold them.

What made him worthy of your affection?

You would hold his hands as if they were precious gems and kiss each finger with the faintest brush of your lips, that it stole Joker's breath every time.

He didn't deserve such reverence on such tools of mass destruction and especially not from someone like you.

The feeling of your delicate hands slotting into his much rougher ones should be illegal but you would simply scoff at J's tsundere ways and hold them whenever you had the chance. In your eyes, you were the one unworthy to touch him.

You were the only person that touched him without a shred of malicious intent.

A literal angel came down from above with the sole purpose to torture his wicked soul with love and kindness. Joker could never fathom a way to repay you but he could guarantee that he would break your heart.

It was the kind of person he was. History always repeats itself.

He could only hope you would look past his many, many flaws and remain by his side for he would do the same for you.

So what if he was being selfish? Joker knew you were way out of his league but that wouldn't stop him from wanting you all for himself. He would do anything to change fate's design to keep the girl and live happily ever after.

As if such a thing were possible for a corrupted man like him. Did he even deserve a happy ending with the life he lived? No harm in finding out.

Joker reached out and held your hand with one of his own.

He dropped his unique speech pattern and spoke straight from the heart. He leaned down so his words could fall straight into your ear.

"Florence threatened to expose us both and they would have taken you from me. I couldn't bear being separated from you so I..." Joker squeezed your hand tighter.

It was right on the tip of his tongue yet he could say it aloud. Perhaps speaking it into existence made it real and he wasn't ready for you to know the truth just yet. J dropped his head with a bitter smile.

"You may think me a monster and that's okay. I am. But know this. No matter how much you hate me, no matter how hard you try to leave— in the end, this monster will always be by your side because.. I-I have nowhere else to go. You own me my Light. You've won."

Joker scanned your face for a flicker of alertness, but you stayed asleep. His smile was bittersweet before he kissed you softly. A monster kissing his sleeping beauty.

And oh how the mighty have fallen.

Your IV bag was half empty but Joker would wait until you opened your eyes to talk to you then. There was no other place he'd rather be so he settled in and took vigil, protecting his Light.

Joker heard you whimper just shy of the two hour mark. He set down his journal and waited for you to stir awake but much to his disappointment, nothing happened so he returned to his work.

He was underlining a great idea for a heist when you whimpered again. Joker looked over and saw that a heavy weight had settled on your brow that wasn't there before.

He watched you shift under the covers and thought maybe you were waking up but instead you mumbled something inaudible and flinched away from an unknown entity. It took him a minute but Joker knew all too well what was happening. You were having a nightmare and watching it unfold tore him apart.

He tossed his work down and reached over to shake you awake.

"Y/n. Hey, hey... bunny." His efforts proved to be counterproductive since you openly sobbed and curled into a fetal position.

As a result, your IV line stretched too far and pulled taunt on your forearm. Joker was worried that the needle would come out so he tried to help you lie back down but you had other plans. Whatever nightmare you were experiencing was traumatic and you reacted accordingly.

It came out of nowhere. One minute you were curled up like a ball, the next, you were fighting him with all your might.

Joker had to admit– you had hands, but you were causing more harm to yourself than him and somehow you were still asleep during the scuffle. He had to put an end to this.

"Wake up Y/n!" Joker shouted as he dodged your fists.

He grunted when your knee collided with his groin. Joker's pain tolerance was high but he was still a man. He grimaced through the pain and missed your eyes flying open in a state of panic.

Your head was still foggy from the pain meds but you quickly acknowledged that a male was pinning you down.

You couldn't tell what was real and what was just your nightmare; the only thing you could do was react the same way you did well over a year ago.

"G-Get off of me, Ty! Stop it!"

Joker froze the moment you yelled another man's name.

He quickly flipped the two of you over so you were the one in control but he didn't let you go.

He couldn't let you fight this alone. Although he didn't know what to do, he decided that talking you through it was somewhat of a good idea.

"Shhh shhh doll. Hey, uh.. do ya remember when I took you to the uh beach? You wanted to err— 'hear the dark ocean waves crashing onto the shore and feel the stillness of the night embrace you.' Buh-lieve me, it sounded wayy better comin' from you. I thoughT you were crazy for wanting to go at nighT but you madeit sound so.. normal. I wanted to experience something normal with you."

Joker noticed that you stopped fighting him so he kept going.

"You were uh, happy just dancing in the moonlight, so carefree and beautiful. I never took my eyes off ya and how could I? You're perfect, my light in the darkness, my.. everything. I'd do anything for you, don't ya know that doll? Say the woo~oord and it's yours, remember?"

Joker cradled the back of your head and you could hear his heartbeat while lying on his chest. He was just as nervous as you were. You clung to Joker's shirt tighter and whimpered.

Joker saw that he was winning you over and took things a step further.

"I'm gonna rub your back in uhh, circular motions mkay? Tell me to stop and I will."

You were afraid that Joker would make fun of your fragile situation but instead he took the time to alert you of his intentions. That had to count for something yet the doubt still lingered.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to clear them away. This was Joker, he wouldn't hurt you.. right? There were so many unknowns floating inside your head but Joker called out your name in that unique tone of his dragged you out of the fray.

His hands gently landed on your back, making you tense on reflex. "This okay?" He asked.

A man who never asked for permission a day in his life, offered you that courtesy. With a shaky nod, you allowed it.

"Yeah? All-rightY then. I'll go slow buT... ya gotta talk to me. What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours, bun?"

He left a kiss on the crown of your head and rubbed your back in soothing figure eights. The rhythm made your eyes fall half mast but Joker stopped before you could fall under.

He drummed his fingers against your spine and it startled you awake. "Use your words, pretty girl. Tell me."

"Please, don't make me relive that." You begged.

The finger drumming stopped and you risked a peek at Joker. His shriveled up heart tore into two seeing a river of diamonds running down your bronze cheeks.

Someone hurt his Light and they would pay but first he would do his best to dry your tears. He can't bear it whenever you cry. Your tears would be his undoing.

"Relive what, Y/n? I never know what's going on with you. Who's this Ty person, hmm? I can kill him for you.."

You froze. You couldn't believe that you uttered that name for J to hear. Maybe if you backtracked Joker would forget and move on.

"N-No one. Just forge—"

"Stop. Dodging. The. Question! Morgana told me what happ-ened last night and now you're reacting like this?! You can't hide from me anymore. I neeeeeeeeed to know what happened.."

Joker shifted a bit so he could catch one of your tears with his index finger. There was genuine concern etched on his face that left you speechless. You never wanted Joker to know but he wasn't going to let this go. He was just as stubborn as you are.

He started to list off your drawbacks.

"You fear a man's touch. You have anxiety and social triggers. You run away from anything stressful, and d__n it Y/n! Just tell me what happened. I won't jud—"

"NO!"

Joker arched an eyebrow at your sudden outcry. He'd only known you a few months but you weren't a person to raise your voice at others.

"Nooo no no... no, you'll h-hate me if I told you!" You choked out a sob and Joker was quick to pull you back into a hug. His warm embrace was the perfect remedy despite the circumstances at hand.

"I could never hate you! What makes you think that Y/n?" He vowed while squeezing you tighter.

Joker had his suspicions on what happened to you but he kept it to himself. Morgana offered to spill the beans but he felt he should hear the truth directly from you. For so long Joker questioned your odd tics and mannerisms and today they finally held meaning.

You created some space from him with a sigh and Joker knew whatever you were about to say would change everything. You couldn't look him in the eye anymore.

With tears dotting your lashes, you finally broke down and told Joker about your past.

"Because why would you want someone's leftovers?"

"Uh leftovers?" J echoed. You sat up in Joker's lap and sniffled.

You never told anyone what truly happened that fateful night– not even when your parents begged you to make a police report, but the moment you started talking, you just couldn't stop. The truth was finally coming out and you felt indifferent to it all.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and began.

"His birthday was coming up and I didn't want him to be more upset with me. He was already mad because I didn't get him anything so we decided last minute on a movie. Some trashy romance flick that I couldn't tell you the title of to save my life. In hindsight, I realize that he practically threatened me to go. He knew what he wanted from me."

"The movie was fine until he got handsy halfway through. I said no. I said no all night... He slapped me, called me a f__king cocktease when I refused to suck him off– so I left. It should've been simple.. Give Ty a day or two to cool off but he always apologizes. He had a temper but he never meant to take it out on me. He always apologized because he... loved me. Or so I thought." You shivered.

"That night was different though. He was so angry that I made a scene walking out and we had already fought the day before about me moving to Gotham to kick off my writing career. He wanted me to be a stay at home wife. Heh, marriage was never brought up in a conversation he just... assumed that I would be with him forever. If only I had known just how controlling he really was. By the time he showed me his true colors—"

You chuckled while blinking back your tears. Joker wanted to reach out and wipe them away, do anything really to comfort you, but your next sentence stopped him in his tracks.

[ Do NOT read further if sexual assault/rape affects you. The end of this section is marked if you wish to skip it.]

*** TRIGGER WARNING STARTS NOW ***

"He followed me out into the alley behind the theater. I made it to the sidewalk, but he grabbed my hair and dragged me back into the darkness. He s-slammed my head so hard into the brick wall, I lost consciousness. I came to and scratched at his face so he broke my arm. And the b-broken jaw was because I-I was too loud. If I had kept my mouth shut like a good girlfriend, he wouldn't have to be so rough, he said. It still aches when it rains, which is all the time, but it's whatever I guess."

Joker's gaze fell to your jaw as if he could find evidence to your assault well over a year later. He did notice on heavy rainy days that you would rub your jaw in pain.

He thought nothing of it until now.

It also explained why you were so quiet during sex. You were punished for being too loud then and feared making a sound now.

The puzzle pieces were slowly snapping into place and Joker felt sick to his stomach for being so blind.

"W-When you love someone, you trust them not to h-hurt you." You didn't see Joker's guilt torn face as you said that. You carried on unawares. "He broke that trust so I made the decision to escape from the pain he was inflicting."

"You dissociated while he..." Joker whispered.

How long had you bottled this up? Months? Years? Joker didn't want to know the answer.

He inflicted pain on others simply because it was amusing; nothing bothered him, but hearing the accounts of a traumatic assault from an innocent creature like you, it truly broke his heart.

Now he understood why you always ran when things got too dicey. It was your coping mechanism. Running kept you safe and you couldn't break old habits.

Joker regretted asking you about the past. Some things were best left in the dark.

"I'll never get his voice out of my head. He praised me for being so tight. I was choking on my own blood and b-bleeding internally from each agonizing thrust, and he.. thanked.. me for being... He knew I loved praise and used it against me! I lost a piece of myself that I'll never get back all because he thanked me. C-Can you even call it rape if you cum? How could my own body betray me and enjoy something so barbaric?"

You fought back tears and furiously wiped away any that emerged. When you felt strong enough, you continued.

"It took months to physically mend myself back together but my mental wounds will never heal. I tried to move on and start dating again but..... he was always there. Every date, every hookup, every attempt at sex, was ruined with the thought of him and his touch. Eventually I stopped trying. I accepted the fact I was broken and focused on my work and nothing else. I lost friends but I didn't care. I moved to Gotham City to start anew and haven't looked back. I was existing but not living– that is until you came along."

*** TRIGGER WARNING HAS ENDED ***

Joker looked up in shock. He had been quiet for the most part but hearing his name during your story was a shock. "M-Me?" He pointed to himself.

You exhaled sharply and grabbed Joker's hand.

He watched as you played with his calloused fingers and frowned when you noticed the length of his nails. You picked at a jagged edge as you replied.

"Yeah.. you. You aren't normal and after what I've been through, I craved your um.. brand of different I guess? You don't care that I'm someone else's leftovers— a girl who's afraid of being touched. When I'm with you.. I-I can be the Y/n I was before I was r-r.. um assaulted."

You intertwined your fingers with Joker's and glanced up at him. He immediately returned your stare. "Please tell me you won't leave m-me. N-Now that you know."

Now Joker knew where your separation anxiety originated from.

So many fools before him left you high and dry while you were trying to heal and they unknowingly scarred you further. Joker saw the sheer desperation in your e/c eyes and vowed to be different.

He would not make the same mistake they did.

Joker didn't say a word as he leaned forward to grab a hold of your face.

You jumped at the unexpected contact but his eyes are what scared you the most. They weren't filled with pity or disgust; Joker's vivid green eyes glowed with nothing but acceptance.

Joker's clown makeup took away from the sight but his genuine smile was still a sight for sore eyes. It made yours widen in shock.

"Where else would I go, hmm?" Then he heard his favorite sound in the world. Your laugh.

It wasn't the light and airy bell like tone he was used to, but it'll do given the circumstances. You leaned into Joker's calloused hand that cradled your face with a half smile.

"There she issssss, there's my Light! You thought that would scare me off? Nah, that's nothing. Pfft. I've done far worse sweetheart." Joker thought the joke came out well but he felt the moment you tensed up.

He wanted to kick himself when you leaned away. "What?"

Joker's brain was working in overdrive on how to retract that statement.

In your fragile state, the last thing you needed was to discover just how much of a monster Joker truly was. Thankfully the sound of your stomach growling saved the day. He sighed in relief when you became flustered and covered your belly.

The last thing you ate was a plate of sweets and now your body was craving real food. You filed Joker's eerie words away for later to focus on your body's needs.

"I doubt Dick left any food but it won't hurt to check." You flung the covers away to stand but you were literally yanked back by your IV line.

You glared at it in shock. It was then you noticed that you were tied to the bedpost.

You prayed that you were just reading too much into things. There was no way that Joker would deliberately tie you to the bed. He had no reason to yet your heart started to race when he remained silent.

'I've done far worse sweetheart.' Was this Joker's way of showing you his true colors?

"J, what the..."

He smacked his lips and began the tedious task of untying your line from the headboard.

He tried to ignore your bugged out eyes watching his every move. You had just finished explaining that your rapist ex was controlling only to find out your current lover tied you to the bed.

He'd kill Sarai for her dumb idea. Who ties a medical IV bag to a bedpost anyways?!

It didn't matter who was truly at fault, in your eyes, Joker was to blame. He was making mistake after mistake and really setting himself up for a trip to the doggie house or worse. You just might kick him out of your life for good.

Once the line was loose, he focused on removing the IV needle. Sarai advised him to call her but Joker wanted as much privacy with you as possible. He just hoped he was removing it correctly. At least it didn't bleed as much when he took out the needle. You grimaced more from his touch than the removal process.

He wondered how long it would take for you to trust him again. He missed touching you so freely already.

Joker slapped a band-aid that matched your skin tone on the entry point and stood up.

"You're uh wel-come to join me in the errr kitchen. Do ya need help gettin' there?" Joker ideally wanted to carry you to the kitchen or at least spot you along the way but you were still wary of him.

He would be stuck asking for your permission and doing frequent check-ins for the unforeseeable future.

Not that he minded but it would become repetitious after a while. Just because you and Joker were on the same page again didn't mean he was out of the neck of the woods. He didn't want to overstep any boundaries and risk starting things over from the beginning.

It took too long for Joker to craft the trust he formed with you and he would not let your ex ruin his hard work.

Maybe some food would do you some good. The fluids and pain meds could only do so much to get you back healthy. Although Joker now knew that your mental health was an issue there was no way he could help you there.

"N-No. I think I'll be fine. Um, can you fix me a plate while I'm in the bathroom?" You weren't quite sure why you turned down Joker's assistance but watching his shoulders deflate made you feel ten times more guilty.

Joker was trying to help in the only way he knew how.

You didn't move from the bed and Joker got the message. You wanted some privacy and so with a mute nod, he made himself scarce.

You waited until Joker left the bedroom to breathe a sigh of relief. You quite literally got something off your chest. You'd been bottling your trauma for a year now and parading around like everything was fine was not good for your mental health.

Joker was the only soul who knew the severity of your assault and he didn't leave like so many partners did before him.

He was okay with you being a mess and that alone made you crack a smile that quickly faded away. Being a mess was not something to celebrate. You were tired of pretending. Maybe it was high time to stop joking about it and actually schedule a therapy appointment.

Your mother was probably giving Him all the Glory if she knew you were serious about seeking professional help this time.

If you remembered correctly, Mom gave you a list of psychologists from Blüdhaven and another list that practiced here in Gotham City after you moved. You nodded to yourself and set about getting up so you could go to your room to search for it. Then you could make a quick stop in the bathroom on the trip back.

The covers were still flung back so you swung your legs over the bed and stood up, only to stagger back onto the bed when your balance failed you.

Perhaps you should've taken Joker's offer to help. You'd been bed ridden all day and your equilibrium was completely out of whack but you suffered through worse.

You toughened through it and walked down the hallway to your bedroom, quickly closing the door behind you.

Joker heard the door echo in the apartment and sighed. It was a distinct sound that rattled his nerves. You were in your room and there was no telling if you would emerge.

For now, all he could do was prepare a plate of food and hope you joined him in the kitchen.

In the meantime, he called Mac and Frost and took care of some business. You walked into the kitchen right as he was finishing up a phone call with Mac.

"I don'T care. Follow her so we don't have another repeat occurrence. Uhh she's with Sarai, find her on your own."

Joker spotted you hesitating in the archway and hurried Mac off the phone. "Yeah yeah just do your job and have fun."

Joker hung up and grabbed a small pot off the stove. He pointed at the island counter and you obeyed the silent request.

Your kitchen remained the same as you remembered it but now Joker was buzzing around it and doing a great job of fixing you a plate. He found your causal china from the cupboard and loaded a plate up with a generous helping of baked beans, a generous slice of Dad's BBQ meat, and he was currently raking some warmed up greens onto the plate. You doubted you'd eat all of it but the gesture was there.

Joker was concerned about you.

He set the pot back on the stove before pushing the plate across the island counter towards you. "Eat." He spun around to yank the silverware drawer open. "Uh hold on.."

A fork was presented to you along with a napkin or two.

You arched an eyebrow at Joker being so at ease in your kitchen but dug into your food with gusto. The flavors had time to set overnight and it was a literal party in your mouth. You felt the energy recharging your body and you did a small happy dance in your seat.

You looked up when you heard Joker snort.

He was leaning back on the sink with his arms crossed, staring at you. There was a softness in his eyes that you never seen before. He looked like a lovesick puppy and sported a dopey smile on his lips.

It sent butterflies stirring in your stomach but you pushed down the feeling and slowly ate under his watch. You were blowing on a forkful of food when he suddenly spoke.

"We should go out."

The beans on your fork dripped back onto your plate. Surely he was kidding. You downplayed the obvious. "Out? Like o-outside on the balcony?"

Joker fixed you with a deadpan glare. He grabbed a fork of his own and stole a bite of your greens. You looked on in disbelief at the amount he took and definitely not at the juices running down his chin provocatively.

He was making a show of chewing them, "Mmm that's good but uhh.. no. Out as in... I take ya out on a date." He smirked at your jaw dropping open. He felt cheeky so he scooped up some beans and fed them to you.

You jumped back last minute and had no other choice but to chew them as Joker spoke.

"Lemme spoil my Light rotten so you can see what I see. A beautiful goddess walkin' amongst us. Whaddya say pretty girl? Wanna go on a date with me?" Joker flashed you a smile.

"I.. but you.." You stuttered. Joker played along with your lack of excuses.

He twirled his hands in a circle, "But whaT, Bunny?"

"You seem to forget you're a wanted criminal with the entire city on the hunt for you! We can't just go out! I mean... what if you get caught or um.." You stared at the concrete poured countertops as if they held the answers you needed.

Joker laughed and propped his elbow up on the surface. He was glad to know your only reservations were about his safety and not about being in a foul mood to go out.

He drummed his fingers on the counter and shrugged his shoulders.

"So? I wanna take my girl out. That's a uhh, risk, I'm willin to take. If you don't wanna go just say so. Orrrr is it something else holding you back? Don't wanna be seen with me? Is that it?"

You were quick to deny, "NO! That's not it! I-I.. it's the other way round! I'm not worth all the fuss, Joker."

Joker growled and smacked his hands down, causing the plate and other items on the counter to rattle briefly. You flinched when he rounded the counter to tip your chin back.

Joker knew you were still skittish with physical touch but he couldn't help himself. He brushed his lips against yours so you could feel the honesty dripping from his lips.

"An author I know once penned. 'Let it be known all across Greece, that I, a lowly human, cherish and bow before the feet of a goddess. Should she smite me here and now, I will undoubtedly perish as a satisfied man.'"

Hearing Joker quote your books was like a shot of tequila without a lime.

It spoke to how much he valued you as a person and as an author while still paying homage to his burning desire for you.

His shaky sigh fanned over your face and you closed your eyes from the intimate contact. Your instincts were screaming at you to run run run, however you were a woman and a very attractive man was declaring his devotion to you. You stayed rooted in place.

Your heart skipped and you licked your lips, unknowingly swiping Joker's.

"Happy." Joker was confused until you finished your sentence by correcting the book quote. "Sebastian said he'd perish a happy man, not satisfied."

You panted in the space between Joker's mouth and yours. He was so close it hurt.

"Same thing." Joker shortened the distance and captured your lips with a groan. How long had he starved himself of this pleasure? A week too long.

You tasted so sweet and felt so soft– a literal treat for a man touch starved. He couldn't stop himself from grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up on the counter. Joker didn't part for air and you clung to him tighter.

Your legs naturally parted to allow Joker room to step in between them and you wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

Where everyone else was closed off, somehow it felt right to let Joker in. Despite your fears and unresolved trauma, you could trust Joker with your body.

You could tell he was holding back (you swooned at his self-restraint) and a part of you was grateful when he pulled back. It was too much too soon.

He leveled his breathing and rested his forehead against yours, "Y/n, you're worth everything. Let me do this, hm?"

You gazed into Joker's eyes. This meant a lot to him although your current level of confidence couldn't grasp why. You just had to blindly trust that Joker had your best interests at heart.

"Okay."

"Okay... what?" He pressed. He never broke eye contact with you which didn't help you think straight. You could drown in his sea of moss green.

"Um, y-yes I wanna go on a d-date with.. with you."

Joker looked like a kid in a candy store. He couldn't stop smiling and almost kissed you again but backed away at the last minute. He saw you breathe a sigh of relief and knew he made the right decision.

"Ya won't regret it. Now! Let's spoil my Bunny rotten shall we?" Joker bopped you on the nose.

Just what did you sign up for?

It was impossible for someone with your skin color to truly blush but you could feel your skin boiling with all the attention Joker bestowed you.

He encouraged you to wash up and change into something that was easy to get in and out of before ushering you out of the apartment. You ended up in a pair of beat up sweats and one of his shirts. You were giving bum city realness and felt like it too.

Joker also changed to blend in better– if being disguised as a sexy mafia boss was his definition of 'blending in.'

Every female in a fifty mile radius eyed Joker like the piece of meat he was. The sad part, he knew he looked fine and fed off the energy.

He wore another delicious all black suit with gold cufflinks and a matching watch on his arm. He walked with a purpose and kept you safely tucked in the crook of his arm.

Male and females glared at you in envy as this mysterious male guided you into Gotham City's elite boutique. You were embarrassed to say the least.

You only been in here once to browse around for your American GreatRead's award dress before Cindy hooked you up with a custom designer.

Only celebrities and the upper echelon of Gotham City dared to step foot into Tashio and Joker dragged you in here in your beat up house clothes.

You and Joker hadn't made it a foot into the store when a woman with beautiful ebony skin strutted over. "May I help you two?"

Joker took off his shades to inspect her more closely. He was forced to keep his mask on lest everyone see his scars but his presence still commanded respect. You were amazed at how he slicked his hair back so the green streaks didn't show. It was slowly fading and he didn't bother dying it back since he knew you loved his natural hair color.

Just another way he was changing himself for you.

"Yes. My girl and I are going out tonight. Black tie. There's no limit and don't listen to her suggestions, she's errr modest." He nudged you forward so the saleswoman could take a look at you.

You almost snapped your neck to glare at Joker.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You gritted.

The woman got straight to business. "Understood. Any preference of designers sir and will the two of you be matching? Oh, and what's your size?" She spoke to you directly at the end but Joker replied on your behalf. "No, yessss, and she's a...."

Joker paused to look you over. You bashfully looked away as his eyes roamed over your curves.

If anyone else stared at you in such a way you'd be disgusted, but Joker's lustful gaze made you feel desired and a touch confident. He locked eyes with you as he spoke.

"She's a (insert dress size)." You knew he was smiling underneath his face mask. The cocky clown was right..

"Will you be staying for the fitting? Sir?" The saleswoman cleared her throat to get his attention. "Excuse me sir?"

J's gaze was still on you when he replied, "Mhm." He didn't catch the saleswoman's smile.

"Very well.. Please, come with me." She waved the two of you further into the store and asked for your name. You complimented her bantu knots and her striking blue eyeliner and she in turn admired your work in literature.

And of course that launched a discussion about your novels. You could talk for hours about your work.

By the time the three of you reached the actual showroom, you were perfectly at ease. Joker noted how your demeanor mellowed out around women and decided to fall back to give you some space.

You hardly noticed his absence. You still had no clue where Joker was taking you tonight except that it was a black tie event.

Kendra, your styling consultant, sat you down and asked you questions while her assistant ran around to stock a private room with the choices that you unknowingly made so far.

You ruled out anything short and in your least favorite color and Kendra listened attentively while making mental notes of your preferences based on your answers.

You were surprised by how seamless the whole process was especially when Kendra informed you she already had some ensembles picked out for you to try on. You passed by a gorgeous pair of shoes on the way to the fitting room and she assured you that she would also assist in picking out any accessories and shoes to go with your final selection.

Joker was making due on his promise to spoil you.

Speaking of the clown, you finally acknowledged that he wasn't with you. He must've disappeared while you weren't looking. Hopefully he stayed out of trouble while you shopped around.

Kendra was explaining the store's wide collection of designers when a commotion on the floor gained her attention.

"Sir! Can you please return that to its original display?!"

Both you and Kendra turned to spot a redhead running behind Joker, who was carrying an entire mannequin over his shoulder like it was a normal occurrence.

You facepalmed as Kendra chuckled at the sight. She waved her co-worker off. The redhead was miffed but stormed off with a grumble under her breath. This is why she liked when men left the store.

Joker set the mannequin down once he reached your side. "I li-ke this one." He said.

Kendra didn't have the heart to tell the man this design was a display only. Her fingers were crossed that they had your size still in stock.

"Good choice sir, she'll look amazing in Valentino. Would you like to try it on, Y/n?"

You glared at Joker for his lack of manners and studied the gown. You were worried about your chest behaving, or rather, not in the off the shoulder gown.

"Uh it's beautiful but.."

Joker hummed and tugged the material down. You gasped the same time Kendra fixed her mouth to scold him.

"It has a built-in bra Bunny. The uh.. girls��won't go anywhere you don't want em' to." He let go of the gown and shooed you towards your private room. "Go try it on."

Your ears were redder than the dress and Kendra did her best to stifle her laugh while following you back to the fitting room. She excused herself to go check inventory (thank the gods they had your size left!) and returned to help you in it.

Just like Joker said, your cleavage wasn't a problem. You stared at your reflection in the mirror and twirled absentmindedly.

"Your boyfriend has good taste."

You stopped twirling to stare at Kendra. She was smiling and didn't know the weight of her words.

"Not many partners stay for the fittings let alone make good selections. He's a keeper." She fixed the seam around your arm as you stared off in thought.

Is that what you and Joker looked like to outsiders? Like a couple? You bit your lip to stop your smile.

"He's not my boyfriend." You denied. Kendra scoffed.

"With the way he looks at you? The devil is a lie and denial is a river in Africa. You may be delulu, but that man is down bad for you. You look good girl. Do you want to show him this one?"

You were most definitely in denial. There was no way that Joker would commit to anyone let alone you— especially now since he knew about your past, but you begrudgingly nodded at Kendra.

However a knock on the door interrupted you. The same redhead from before poked her head through the door.

"Sorry Kendra but your client asked me to send these two in. Said something about his goddess needed to try them on. He's not feeling the red anymore." She rolled her eyes before handing your consultant two more gowns for you to try.

It's like Joker read your mind; you were a bit indecisive and needed more options.

Kendra thanked her colleague and unzipped the dress bag open to reveal a high collar teal gown. It was a pencil silhouette and looked very chic on the hanger.

You were hesitant but stepped into the dress only to turn your nose up as the fabric accented your curves a little too much.

You saw Joker's vision here but you weren't feeling confident in it. Kendra noticed your displeasure and didn't bother fastening the buttons near the neck. "Let's try the next one shall we?" She politely deflected.

She knew you too well for someone you just met. You let out a heavy sigh and stripped to your bra and panties again.

Joker meant well but what if you didn't find anything to wear to his surprise date? You probably tried on a dozen gowns, each one more gorgeous than the last, but none of them felt right.

Kendra carefully held a deep indigo number for you to step into. The second it glided over your skin, you broke out in goosebumps. The rich color looked divine on your darker skin and once Kendra zipped it up and you saw the dramatic ruffles, you knew.

She had a feeling this was the one too and smiled as she smoothed and tucked the gown a certain way to earn your approval.

You had yet to stop smiling at your reflection in the mirror. It was dramatic and elegant and you felt glamorous while wearing it. It would stand up perfectly with Joker's dark suit tonight.

"I-I wanna show him this one." You murmured. Kendra agreed and gave you a pair of sample heels to walk in.

The door opened and you walked down the short hallway and turned the corner to find Joker sitting on a couch, fiddling with his watch. He was blowing a raspberry but felt a presence in the room. His jade eyes immediately locked on you and then his heart stopped.

He was utterly speechless. You played with your fingers before clearing your throat.

"D-Do you like it, J?" Nervous was an understatement as Joker stood up without a word.

He came to a stop in front you and pulled his mask down far enough to kiss you right there on the showroom floor.

You jumped at the initial contact but let his lips dance across yours. Joker's lips were like satin to the touch despite his scars and you firmly believed he kissed you differently every time you lips met his.

You forgot you were in public when he licked the root of your mouth with his tongue.

You shoved him away none too gently. "J, stop!" You hid your shaking hands behind your back and glanced around.

Kendra had her back turned– pretending to straighten a display dress on its hanger better and no one else was in the nearby vicinity. Joker pulled you right back in his embrace. He felt you trembling but pursued his goal.

"So? Let them.." He kissed your cheek, "Mmm, let them see.. just how much.. you're wanted." He said in between pecking your face.

It was light and innocent, nothing heavy to rattle your nerves but you still grimaced each time Joker's lips came in contact with your skin. You hated how quickly your mood changed.

Joker was always mindful of your body language and pulled away to fix his mask back over his mouth.

You didn't shy away from Joker as a person per se, but rather at the fact he was wasting his passion on damaged goods. You still felt lesser than. That would change by the end of the night.

Joker sighed to himself before waving Kendra and her assistant over. If they saw anything, their poker faces were stone cold.

Joker shoved his fists into his pockets and nodded over at you.

"Get my Light some uh proper heels to wear and drown her in jewels. Gold she uhh, looks the best in gold.."

Joker watched you rub the back of your neck. "I want her hair and makeup done too. Uh, I'll be back."

Once Joker issued his requests, he stepped away, leaving you with a smug Kendra and a clueless assistant calling the inhouse hair and makeup crew so they could expect your arrival.

Kendra offered you a napkin to wipe your face. Did the man have to slobber all over it? At least he wasn't wearing his clown makeup.

"I thought he wasn't your boyfriend Y/n?" Kendra snickered.

You snatched the napkin out of her hands. "Oh shut up." The both of you shared a laugh.

Joker stepped outside to make some calls to ensure his plans for the night went off without a hitch.

It was a bit of a risk to be out in public– especially where he was taking you, yet one he was willing to take if it helped boost your confidence. Your self esteem was at an all time low and you were having thoughts that weren't befitting the new nickname he wanted to test out.

He wasn't lying when he said you were a goddess meant to be cherished and worshipped.

Tonight would be a mere glimpse of what he would do for the rest of your life— if you'll have him.

He lit up a few cigs in between calls and before he knew it, time had gotten away from him. Joker stepped back inside to check on you.

A lady on the showroom floor said you were finishing up with makeup so he took care of the bill while he waited. You wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he didn't actually pay.

He was eyeing a display case of designer handbags when an employee cleared her throat to get his attention. Joker sent her a sharp glare over his shoulder.

Something about those abnormally green eyes frightened her. "Ahh uh.. she's.. your date is ready s-sir."

He loved scaring people, that would never change no matter how closely he embraced the light.

Joker followed the associate to a waiting room although he didn't have to wait for long, you were already walking in like the ethereal deity you are.

The dress by itself was stunning but in his absence you donned a pair of drop earrings, your wrist was adorned with gold, and the hair team did a phenomenal job in taming your curls. Your hair was beautiful on a normal day but they combed out any knots and let it cascade down in its natural curl pattern. It was elegantly styled but pinned back to allow your jewelry and natural beauty to be the main focus.

If you wore makeup they did an outstanding job highlighting your natural features.

If you preferred a more natural approach, Joker smirked at the subtle lip gloss on your plump lips. He wanted to kiss it off but all in good time. The next time he claimed your lips he wanted you to be a willing participant.

You declined a handbag since you left the penthouse with only your keys and phone in hand and Joker was currently carrying both for you. Imagine your surprise when you discovered your evening gown had pockets. It was a blessing from above that it was the one for you.

All in all, you looked breathtaking and you had an ounce of confidence to yourself.

You walked over, smiling faintly at Joker. He was ever the gentleman, bowing at the waist and kissing the back of your hand before offering you his arm.

The employees who were gathered looked on in awe. It was something out of a fairy tale, the two of you looked so perfect together! If only they knew it was the infamous Joker who was spoiling you and not some average guy.

As if you wanted a normal man after being with Joker.

You giggled to yourself as J escorted you out of Tashio's and towards a car waiting on the curb.

A driver held the door open and you slid inside with Joker following behind you. "Are ya hungry, Bunny?" He asked as you got settled.

You urged him to put his seatbelt on and he did so with a dramatic roll of his eyes. The things he did for you.. First he legally pays for a service, the next he wears a seatbelt. Would you somehow convince him to file his taxes next?

If you asked, he'd consider it.

A few hours had passed since leaving the apartment and it was nearing dinner time. You had worked up an appetite after shopping and then sitting in a hair stylist chair for so long.

"Yeah dinner sounds good."

Joker played with your chain bracelet as the car drove off to his plans for the night. His special surprise burned inside of his pocket but he would wait until a better time arose to present it to you. He didn't like your prolonged silence though.

He hoped you weren't thinking negatively and digging yourself into a funk. "Hey," Joker called your name.

You tore your eyes from the traffic outside the window and met endless pools of green "Hm?"

"You ok?" He asked.

You grabbed Joker's hand, intertwining it with your own and admired the color contrast. Joker didn't care that his tan skin clashed with your darker brown, he was too busy celebrating this mini victory.

You initiated physical contact with him. He was overjoyed when he kissed your hand and you didn't flinch.

"I will be." 'Now that I have you.' You thought the last bit to yourself.

His gaze never left your face until the driver announced the two of you had arrived. You were curious and excited to see why Joker had you all dressed up. He stepped out of the car first and turned around to help you out.

Your heels clicked as they settled on the sideway in front of a tall stone building alit from within.

Then it all made sense why you were dressed to the nines.

You heard about the place but never knew where it was located. Another Michelin star restaurant hidden in the heart of The Bowery district with a ridiculously long wait list and allegedly, a menu well worth the wait.

You had no doubt that Joker threatened someone, (or worse) to get a table on such short notice.

Joker watched your eyes sparkle in awe as he guided you inside the restaurant. He stopped at the hostess booth to whisper something in their ear but you were distracted by the ambiance.

You were quick to notice that the space used to be an old ballroom but was converted over time into a restaurant.

The ceiling still had its picturesque artwork and elaborate crown molding but the pièces de résistance was the live tree growing in the middle of the room. Its branches provided a much needed element of greenery amidst all the glamor and acted as a natural privacy divider for the surrounding tables.

It defied all logic by thriving amongst marble and stone and a massive two story chandelier hung above it, casting an ethereal glow on the healthy leaves and the people seated below it. The place was filled with magic.

You turned your head when a male appeared and addressed you and Joker.

"Ahem, your table is waiting."

He patiently waited for you and J to follow him. On the far side of the room, a giant spiral staircase winded up so close to the chandelier, you could reach out and touch the glass beads. Joker grabbed your wrist before you could.

He didn't want you reaching too far over the railing and risk hurting yourself. You were way too clumsy for your own good.

The second story of the ballroom overlooked the restaurant below and you were stunned by the more intimate seating available up here.

Unlike downstairs, each table was spread further out from the others by vine dividers, giving a guest the feeling of a space all to themselves. Joker made sure his table was well off from the others so he could remove his mask in peace.

Not like anyone could see him with the soft candlelight casting shadows everywhere but he wasn't about to take any chances.

The waiter presented the private area with a flourish of his arms. The tablecloth was stark white and fine china sat overtop along with candles, fresh flora, and silverware– ready to enjoy. There was a perfect blend of elegance and greenery that matched the restaurant's overall aesthetic.

Joker glared at the waiter who tried to hold a chair out for you. Joker waited until he was gone before removing his mask. Then you finally got to see his scarred lips tugging up in a smile.

You sat down and let Joker push you towards the table however; you jumped when he left a kiss on the back of your neck. Joker mumbled out a sorry right as another water approached the table with a pitcher of water.

He poured you a glass and handed you and Joker menus, "Welcome to Eden. I will be your only server tonight."

He nodded at Joker and you surmised that J paid him off.

Not many people could stomach seeing Joker and his scars or turn a blind eye to a known fugitive being out in public. The NDA check must be huge.

You opened the menu and scanned it over. Everything sounded delicious but you couldn't decide what to get even after the waiter walked off to give you some time.

You glanced over the top of your menu at Joker. He had yet to look at tonight's selection. He couldn't take his eyes off of you and sent a lazy smile your way when you caught him staring.

Your ears were burning with how much he made you flustered. You fiddled with your earrings and focused back on the menu until Joker spoke up.

"Get whatever ya want, Bunny. If you don't li-ke it.. I'll uhh, give it to your security." You tilted your head in confusion so he elaborated. "You can't see them but four men are guarding us right now sooooo order whatever you wanT."

You shifted in your seat and coyly glanced around the room.

No one looked out of place in the posh atmosphere but you knew Joker wouldn't lie about something so serious. You hadn't forgotten about that mysterious envelope from the beach house.

Someone had Joker spooked and he wasn't about to mess around with your safety. It meant everything to him. Unfortunately it was another thing to worry about. As if you needed more stress on your plate.

You shook your head and read a promising entree but your attention was distracted by Joker's fingers playfully walking around the white tablecloth getting closer and closer to you.

You bit back a smile and glanced at J who was having a grand time playing around. The candlelight cast a glow on his tanned skin that made him more handsome than usual. You rested your hand on the table and he wasted no time brushing his pinky finger against yours.

Joker's jade eyes darted up to your e/c eyes. "Whatcha gettin?"

"Huh?" You were expecting him to ask you something else, not that. "Oh.. uh I don't know yet."

In seconds, Joker snatched your hand up into his hold and fixed you with a heated stare. "Need some help, doll?"

How was his hand so warm or maybe why were yours so cold? You barely nodded but you saw Joker grin. Nothing got past his perceptive eye.

He leaned over and pointed out some good choices and really sold you on what to order.

For all you knew, Joker was the head chef with how he explained each entree and he painted a clear picture of what you'd get if you ordered it. You decided on an appetizer while your main course cooked and Joker ordered something you couldn't even pronounce with a glass of dark liquor.

You didn't know Joker drank but he polished off the glass– not once letting go of your hand.

He never let go, even when the first course arrived. Joker surprised you yet again by dragging your chair closer to his.

"This okay?" He asked after seeing you tense up in your seat.

You were fine being across from Joker but now you sat side by side. Your bare leg brushed up against his suit and it made goosebumps break out over your skin. This was Joker, not your ex. You had to trust J and give him a chance. He didn't deserve to be iced out for someone else's mistakes.

That was the mantra you told yourself as the waiter returned to refill the glasses with water.

You and Joker shared the appetizer over light banter and he caught you up on what he did for the last few days. He was leading up to his trip to the jewelers and what he purchased, when the main entree arrived at the table.

You missed Joker's irritated growl but the night was still young. He had plenty of time to show off the gift he bought you.

You were about to start eating but Joker took your utensils and cut up your main entree for you. It was an odd gesture but Joker wasn't deterred by your confusion. He just patiently waited until you opened your mouth to feed you.

"How does it taste?" He asked in between bites with that raspy tone you knew all too well.

It stirred up butterflies in your stomach and made you feel wanted but it was neither the time nor the place for such emotions.

The food lived up to its coveted reviews. No wonder people waited months to a year for a reservation. Each morsel melted in your mouth and had you craving for more.

You didn't know how Joker fed you and still had the time to eat himself but he was not playing around with his whole, spoil you rotten agenda.

Who knew being fed could be so hot? If anyone else tried such a thing, you would be insulted but because Joker was the one doing it, it was sensual and thrilling. He watched your lips each time you accepted a bite and the little hums you made were driving him insane.

And when he (purposefully) missed and got a bit of sauce on your face, he groaned watching your tongue dart out to lick it clean.

He wanted to do that but he didn't know if he was allowed to.

You let him hold your hand all night but there was still a wary gleam lingering in your eye. He kissed you back at your apartment with no issues but when he kissed the back of your neck at the dinner table, you jumped. Your mood changed like the wind. Joker honestly didn't know how to approach you after discovering the truth.

He didn't want to scare you but he wanted you so bad. How could he seduce you when you were hardly in the mood?

"J? D-Did you hear me? I asked if I could order dessert." you called his name again to get his attention.

He must've lost track of time while thinking. You were gazing up into his candlelit emeralds waiting for an answer. All the plates were clear of food and Joker wondered how he failed to notice such a crucial detail..

You said his name again and squeezed his hand. J was quick to reply. "Uh yeah. Do ya know–"

You cut him off, "I want the Gotham City style cheesecake with a raspberry compote and um c-can you get the tiramisu? I wanna try it and.. the macaroons." If only you were this decisive when it came to picking dinner.

He chuckled to himself but flagged down the waiter to put in the order. "Say the woo~ord and it's yours, Goddess."

The new nickname punched you straight in the gut.

Joker was distracted but you still stared at him in disbelief. He didn't use a nickname that he didn't think was befitting of you and that fact made you tear up. Even after knowing the truth, he still held you in such high regard.

Joker was finishing up ordering your trio of desserts when he heard the one sound that could bring him to his knees. The sound of you crying.

The candlelight highlighted a tear rolling down your cheek and he quickly wiped it away to preserve your beauty. He was about to ask what was bothering you when you spoke up.

"D-Don't say it if you don't m-mean it.." You shook your head. "I can't take it if you don't mean it."

So you heard his new nickname for you. Joker felt now was the right time as any.

Joker kept silent as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. It was wrapped in your favorite color with a big white bow on top.

"What... is this for me?"

Joker nodded mutely and pushed it closer to you.

He wasn't giving you anything to go on so you were left to grab the box and tear it open. An official Jacob and Co. box was inside and you popped open the lid only to gasp seeing the custom jewelry inside.

"J..." You marveled at the tiny gold lighthouse with a real diamond serving as the beam of light cushioned on black velvet. You were going to read out the inscription along the base but Joker beat you to it.

"My Light in a sea of darkness.' You can doubt all you want but there's no mistaking what you are to me. You're my Light, my goddess. What more could I ever need?"

You were at a loss for words, staring into Joker's sincere gaze. He didn't stumble or stress any syllables; his words were raw and meant to soothe your soul with their honesty.

His smile was faint when he stood up to fasten your new necklace on. It was cold at first but it settled perfectly on the swallow of your collarbone. He nodded to himself seeing it on you and his fond grin caused more tears to form.

You probably looked ridiculous crying in the middle of a ritzy restaurant but it was all you could do after such a declaration.

Right as you were parting your lips to speak, an orchestra on the main floor let a few test notes float through the air. The last thing you were expecting was live music and Joker smirked at your bewildered face.

"Would ya like to dance?" Joker asked, changing the subject.

It took you a few seconds to recover. "I-I... I didn't see a dance floor."

The orchestra began playing a sultry instrumental and you noticed a few couples making their way down to the main floor to dance. You were cross on if you wanted to go although Joker was already reaching for his mask to cover back up.

"Sweetheart, we're in a ballroom you can dance anywhere buuut my question is.... Do you want to?" He stood up and straightened his suit. Who was this dapper man? It couldn't be the same Joker that terrorized Gotham City daily.

Joker really transformed into a different person when he was with you. You were the only soul who would see him this way. He put so much trust in you; it was high time you returned the favor.

Your dessert was soon forgotten as you placed your hand in Joker's.

He guided you down the stairs towards the main floor where a designated area was cleared away. The musicians were mid song when Joker led you into the crowd.

You stumbled in your heels as Joker swept you up into his embrace. You were nearly eye level with the madman with the added height and Joker loved the newfound connection more than anything. However there was a mischievous gleam in his eye that gave you pause.

A new song began, one you quickly recognized. Your head shot up to stare at the musicians playing. There was a mixture of ethnicities so it was plausible they were current with various genres and artists but still..

It wouldn't be hard for Joker to put in a request when you weren't looking.

Joker paid you no mind as he swayed you gently in between the other couples. You were speechless when Joker began to hum the lyrics with confidence.

You didn't know that Joker could sing. He didn't look the type yet he constantly surprised you. His voice reminded you of the old crooners that your uncle used to play on his record when you used to visit.

"They don't make music like this no mo Y/n/n!" Uncle Cedrick obviously never heard Givēon before. New artists were making classic tunes sound more and more popular these days.

Somewhere in between the intro and the first verse, Joker decided to sing along and let the lyrics take hold. He looked so sure of himself yet he stumbled on a line when he noticed that you were staring.

He spun you further away from the crowd so you could hear him serenade you better. His voice floated into your ear like honey.

But I can't make a scene, but I can't make it seem

Like I want you...

Even if it's true...

Even if it's true.

You panicked when Joker let out a shaky sigh and dropped his head in the crook of your neck. There was no way you were mistaken here. "Joker?"

"Shhh. Just..." He moved your hand to rest above his heart. More tears blurred your vision when you felt Joker's heartbeat.

It was beating like a drum.

Sometimes he wished you knew but he could disguise the truth for as long as it takes. Were you really so blind to Joker's feelings? And you called yourself a romance writer. Your radar was supposed to be impeccable on picking up love!

The chandelier overhead twinkled down on the two of you like diamonds and it felt as if no one else was in the room except you and Joker.

You were broken, damaged goods and Joker originally believed he was incapable of love, yet he found the will when it came to you. He waited so long for something good to come his way and finally– he had it.

You might think otherwise but Joker knew you were absolute perfection in his eyes. You were worth the wait. In time you would open up and love him unconditionally. He knew that now.

It was selfish and wrong of him to pressure you into anything. If he did then he'd be no better than your ex. The last thing you needed was history to repeat itself. What you needed was time and space to heal.

Joker nodded to himself and regrettably let you go. You were confused when he stopped dancing and looked away.

"Mm, your dessert is probably at the uh table. Let's head back."

He was shutting you out and that would not do. You put your foot down and tugged on Joker's wrist. He looked at you with an arched brow.

You didn't care that you were in the middle of the ballroom.

You were tired of Joker changing the subject at the drop of a hat! You were tired of being sheltered from your pain. It was time you accepted it and finally moved on– moved onto someone better. You were not going to let Joker walk away.

It was time you threw caution to the wind. The song was ending and your heart echoed the lyrics Givēon sang.

But if you really love me, say it now.

You shortened the distance and cupped Joker's face. He hated that he shied away from your touch. He didn't want to get his hopes up if you were just reacting to mend his hurt feelings. He wanted you to be sincere with your affection.

"T-Take me home, tell me in the space we created– but. Please don't give up on me when I need you more than ever. I-I.. I need you, J. I do."

You clung onto the back of his neck and urged him to bend down. You couldn't rest your forehead against his until he leaned down to your height. He did and you locked eyes with him right there on the ballroom floor.

Your eyes pleaded with Joker. They spoke a thousand words you were so afraid to speak aloud. He searched your colored eyes for a glimmer of hope and found so much more.

It was then you had the pleasure of seeing a man like Joker break.

His eyes fluttered closed and it took everything in his power not to fall to his knees in front of all these people. All in due time, but first he had to get you home.

He made an odd motion with his hands and in seconds, he was whisking you towards the exit. You squeaked in shock and you barely kept up with Joker's long strides.

"J, w-what about the bill?! M-My dessert!"

He growled and pushed the restaurant doors open. The temperature had dropped the past hour or two that you and Joker were indoors and your bare arms shivered once exposed to the elements.

Joker shrugged off his suit jacket and gave it to you. He had a crazed look in his eyes as he waited on the curb.

"Don't care. I'm takin' ya home." He shot you a heated glare, "You'll get your dessert, Princess."

You couldn't recall the last time he used that nickname but it made a smile break out over your face and a liquid fire seep into your core.

It had been too long since you felt a burning desire spread all over. You couldn't lie. You were a little scared but this was Joker. He wouldn't do anything you didn't want. And you wanted him.

A black unmarked car screeched to a halt near the curb. It was hardly in park when Joker yanked the door open for you. "Get in, Bunny."

You knew once you got inside there would be no turning back. You could do this and so with a deep breath, you embraced the unknown.

There was enough sexual tension brewing in the elevator to fuel a bomb.

Surprisingly, Joker behaved himself during the ride back to your apartment yet he practically chased you to the main elevator the second the car arrived at the lobby drop off.

You could only run so fast in heels yet you beat Joker inside.

You broke out into a smile as the elevator doors began to trap you inside with the clown. He tossed a lecherous grin your way and was seconds away from jumping your bones, when the doors slid back open and one of your neighbors walked in.

She did a double take at Joker but quickly recovered to smile at you. Her eyes widened even more after taking in your elegant ball gown.

"Oh wow Y/n! That dress looked stunning on you! I hope you enjoyed your night."

She mashed the button for the ninth floor and brought attention to the time glowing on the panel. It was nearing eleven pm. You hardly noticed that it was so late.

The elevator lights glinted against your jewelry and caught her eye. "Aww that's so cute! It's a little lighthouse. Do you like the beach or something?" She gestured to your necklace.

You laughed awkwardly, "Oh I've only been once but I loved it."

Joker chuckled under his breath and gained your neighbor's attention.

She eyed him up and down but kept her thots to herself. She'd never seen you around with a partner before but sheesh, you knew how to pick em. The man was so fine, he should be illegal.

She dragged her eyes away from Joker and back over to you. "Really? Just once? What was your favorite part? I love sunbathing myself."

Of all the neighbors in the building, why did miss blabbermouth known for her lengthy mindless chats have to board the elevator tonight?

You knew Joker was probably thinking a million and one ways to kill the poor lady. Hopefully he could steady his hands for a few more levels.

You thought back to her question and frowned. You couldn't remember anything remarkable about the beach. You loved it for different reasons.

Mainly the way Joker took you so passionately in the sand or how the light from the rotating coastal structure illuminated his raw beauty for only you to see. You couldn't tell her you didn't visit the beach during the day like a normal person.

Your visit to the beach was memorable because of your carnal escapade with Joker under the stars.

Joker declared you as his Light, the same namesake that now proudly hung from your neck. You couldn't tell her any of that so you made something up on the spot.

"I um, I liked the heat? It was... hot. Sweltering."

Joker failed to stifle his laughter and your neighbor glared at the both of you sideways. Such an odd answer..

Thankfully the lift arrived at the ninth floor and she ended the idle chat. "Alright then, well enjoy the rest of your night, Y/n. Oh and don't forget! We have the next tenant meeting coming up this week! Bring your friend."

She winked at Joker but he could care less. His eyes were glued on you.

The elevator doors closed and resumed its ascent to your private floor. It was so quiet in the metal box, you could hear your uneven breathing.

You glanced at Joker out of the corner of your eye but he was frozen like a statue. You honestly expected him to jump you the second your neighbor was gone but since when was Joker predictable?

Your focus was on the floor indicator as it displayed the tenth floor. Almost there..

Joker waited until you least expected it to make his move.

It was concerning yet electrifying to know you were alone with Joker, completely at his mercy. The lift was passing the maintenance floor when Joker stepped behind you to inhale your unique scent.

His nose faintly brushed the sensitive skin along the nape of your neck and you shivered. Then his hot exhale disturbed the hairs on your neck. He was doing all of this on purpose.

He wanted to torture you, it was the only explanation for the tumultuous tease that was Joker kissing you right where the clasp of your necklace met your skin. You swore his teeth tugged the chain a bit, when the doors dinged open.

The air was getting way too stuffy so you stumbled out as quickly as you could.

Joker's chuckle echoed in the short hallway to your front door. He took his time strolling behind you like a predator and patiently waited as you fumbled with the keys. He lost count how many times you dropped them or missed the keyhole entirely.

Eventually you unlocked the door, however you didn't venture inside. There was an unspoken command in the air not to. Joker was glad that you heeded the warning.

Joker's hand covered yours atop the doorknob. You were frozen in place as he bent down to whisper in your ear.

"When you walk through that door.. you're mine. There's. No. Going. Back. Anything you want, I'll give it to ya but you have to ask for it. If it's uh, too much, say the woo~oord and I'll give you more. Tonight's about you, only you.. buT, I gotta warn ya. I will be selfish and take and take... and take."

You whimpered when Joker nipped the curve of your ear.

The sting was nothing compared to the heat pooling in your core. You surprised yourself with how aroused you were and Joker had yet to begin. It was as if he could tell just how antsy you were. His sudden burst of laughter was strained by his lust.

"Are ya ready for that Y/n? I won't hold back. I uh... well I don't think I can." He pressed you further into the door with his body and you felt his erection dig into your lower back.

"Do you want me?" He asked while kissing your shoulder.

You could do this. All you had to do was open the door.

No more pretending, no more running away when things got too intense. You had to fully participate this time and not drift off into a headspace. Tonight you would give all of yourself over to a man known for his maddening greed. It was scary; however, you were oddly enthusiastic.

You wanted him to have it all. To have you.

You turned the doorknob and walked into your foyer with a madman hot on your heels.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies! About a certain fox’s career and about bottoms potentially spoiling their tops…

Anonymous asked:

So I’ve seen around Leona x Idia and politely ask you for some (and please don’t make the wholesome) headcannons if your able to

Anon! Unfortunately, I’ll have to politely refuse because we don’t really ship Leona and Idia :(

Anonymous asked:

Honest John should make an Onlyfans. How do you think he would do with that?

Anon’s out there using his legal name 😭 Jk this one also isn’t his legal name…

I think he has a lot of potential! There would be a learning curve because he properly doesn’t know how to use technology super well, but he knows how porn and pinups work, so… Even though his taste is a bit old-fashioned… I think that would make him fit into a very specific niche 🤔

And if it works, that would make him euphoric – imagine earning money like that without really risking it?? People who have money to spend really are naïve saps! He would laugh at them as if he is not genuinely enjoying himself for the first time in forever lol

Realistically, his biggest issue is that he absolutely doesn’t have a credit card to receive payments, and he doesn’t have a proper ID, but with the right kinds of friends that’s probably easy to fix!

Anonymous asked:

bless you for the rookvil love the art its so wonderful!! <3 and the rookvil girlies on your priv X aaa <3333 Rook in lingerie is such a treat!! i remember you said she doesn't like to be touched and i was wondering if there's a specific reason you say why? is it just rook girlie or all the top girlies? omg do any of the bottoms return the pleasure for their tops or spoil them back? ok ill stop buT I DO LOVE THE ART MUAH love it. ty for the food! <3

Anonymous asked:

wait do the boys also spoil their tops... oKA y im done im donne lmao im sorry ! stay hydrated have a wonderful day/night

Thank you, Anon! <3 I’m happy you love them, both the ones we posted a couple of days ago and the girlies! Rook in lingerie is indeed a treat and a special rare occasion for Vil only…

As for Rook not liking to be touched, (ignoring my bias that I’m going to address in a minute) it’s more of a Rook thing: she prefers to do “the hunting” and pinning someone down completely is like her instinct. If asked though, she would just say that it would get her too aroused and her heart wouldn’t be able to handle it. Maybe there is some truth to that statement, but… Vil is absolutely allowed to touch her much more than anyone else would, and she mostly does it when she wants to see Rook worked up and agitated. Vil says that it’s like teasing a feral dog that likes the pets but also doesn’t.

As for the rest of the ladies, I kind of talked about this here in the last reply. We are biased towards bottom!girlies receiving all the attention, and this for sure affects how we see top!girlies’ preferences lol But I think not all of them are as much of touch-me-nots as Rook: Rook isn’t even the worst one out of them. Azul is one of the biggest ones; she hates being touched unless she is the one demanding that, and sometimes it gets ridiculous with her. But Ace, Jack or Kalim are not as bad, and Floyd flip-flops as usual. But none of them would let the bottom!girls take the lead completely.

So yeah, while technically all the bottom!girlies could still pleasure their tops, this just isn’t the dynamic we usually gravitate towards, like I explained in the linked post. It all depends on context, I guess. I think they would do a different kind of spoiling, like teasing, dressing up a certain way, allowing something that wasn’t previously allowed, all that stuff.

With the boys it’s easier though! I can see pretty much all of the bottoms being willing to give their tops a blowjob or a handjob depending on a situation, some are more willing than others though~

The ones that are the most likely to do it are Vil (big fan of rewarding with a bj), Silver (he is such a good boy), Epel (he is eager to please and to prove himself!!) and Deuce (he acts first and thinks after, and sometimes it puts him on his knees because he feels too much love towards his top and wants to express it).

[jewishbarbies]

Forgive me but I have so much I can say about this that it physically hurts that her fans believe this nonsense…

“she has always been on the frontlines of change in the industry and setting trends”

When?

“she literally changed the demographic of country music from just being for/about older women to teen girls”

There were female artists before that those “older women” listened to when they were teens. When Taylor’s fans are older women there will be a new singer that teens listen to. It’s how the music industry and freaking aging works. 

“she was one of the first people to really centralize social media in marketing”

She’s literally not. The singers that came up in the early 2000s are. They think 2006 is when the internet was being utilised for promoting singers because of Taylor. Google was invented in 1998. Social media & the internet was being used for almost a decade before. JLO is the reason google images was created for goodness sake.  

“she left RCA because she felt that even if they gave her a good deal they would diminish other writers on the label.”

Do they really think she’s the only so singer to leave or stand up to their label. Britney Spears stole her upcoming song from her label and released it to a radio station in 2004/05. 

“she unabashedly writes about her feelings as a young girl and a woman despite getting shit for it at every turn.”

Most female artists who came before her have struggled with this. Dolly Parton would win awards and get up on stage and not be allowed to speak because her MALE partner spoke for her. Even though Dolly was doing all the work. 

“she's one of the first artists to successfully transfer genres from country to pop.”

This is just false. It happens all the time. Not to mention it happens with different genres and artists all the time. 

“she stood up against streaming when literally no other artist did, got them to change some of their policies”

Because she’s the only one that is selfish enough to publicly pick a fight with someone and pretend it’s got nothing to do with her own bank account. Even when I was a fan of hers I knew she was doing it for herself. 

“yet now the exact thing she was worried about has happened.”

Because she was greedy and arrogant and didn’t buy the masters when they were offered to her because she thinks she better than everyone. 

“her move into pop music was completely different than the type of pop that was being made at the time and it influenced pop for years to come.”

Am I deaf? She stuck to the pop model created by those before her to make sure she was successful. Madonna, Janet Jackson, Britney Spears, Billie Eilish they all took risks with their music and careers to push the envelope and change the sound of pop. Not Taylor “stick to the formula” Swift. 

“all before the me too movement.”

The act TS did herself was admirable but this sentence. This belief that this Swiftie (and potentially other Swifties too) have is a slap in the face to what this movement initially represented and what it meant for women who had endured this. 

“her rerecording process is the first of its kind to be this successful and others are now following suit.”

Wtf does this sentence even mean. They don’t know sh*t about her recording process especially in comparison to other artist. Are they seriously so deluded to think no artist was successful before Taylor. How can they compare her to anyone if they believe this. This statement alone makes it sound like she is the reason music is successful. 

“the way she publicized her fight to own her masters”

Yes for public sympathy cause she’s a narcissist. 

“she also basically started the crop top set trend of the mid 2010s”

One quick google search and this is what I found. “Although the crop top first gained prominence in the fashion industry during the 1930s and 1940s - the latter in particular due to fabric rationing in World War II” I’m sure if I spent more time researching I could find more. But I also know it became very popular in the 1970s with men and carried in through to the 80s and 90s for men and women. Then the 2000s was when the trend reignited. 

“heavily influenced the twee fashion of early 2010s”

This is not the compliment they think it is. This fashion trend is layered with the issues. Her racist fans probably love it because it’s a style that is deemed acceptable by those Hampton holidaying rich white mothers and fathers that got sent to boarding school in England when they were young (I hope that analogy makes sense). It was also equated to thinness particularly at the time it was popularised. Not to mention you google Twee and the pictures you see are if Jess from New Girl, Blair Waldorf from Gossip Girl (a character from a 2000s show) and Alexa Chung. 

Also such a bizarre way to end their long winded rant. 

They are all so blatantly ignorant and stupid. I wasn’t going to say stupid but it really is all it is at this point. They are stuck in this cult they can’t even make reasonable arguments anymore. It’s exhausting constantly being bombarded with them all in every facet of life. I see so many videos of Swifties singing her music in public settings like that video of them on the plane, if I was on that plane I’d have jumped out of it, and it’s just infuriating the lack of respect they have for the rest of the world. Yet they expect everyone to respect and worship their cult leader. It’s disgusting and exhausting. 

Sorry this was so long. I don’t have many followers and I know you’re a safe space for people who don’t like her. And I feel like this is something others might agree with. 

[almostvermin]

the funniest thing ive ever thought up is the idea that octarians just. dont have biological sexes. like they reproduce with mitosis whats the point

"but flick!" you cry, "we have octarians with gender! what gives?" we know inklings consider human gender entirely a fashion statement, i.e. you look so boy today! very fresh. whos to say its not the same for octarians?

but no my thought was what if octarian gender depends on job.like, certain roles are male-alligened, ect. octavio gets to be a guy hes a dick-tator. duh. the military octarians we fight, plus canon!eight, ect, are girls. lower sentience octarians are referred to with it/its by craig, who from his homoerotic situationship, obviously knows octarian gender customs and is being respectful while forcing children to commit genocide. the one from gold bazookas is a trumpet player which is clearly a fem-alligned job, but the fact its brass means shes butch. hirooo plays anarchy for a living which is obviously masc. shiver and acht are criminals of course theyre nonbinary, but shiver also uses she/her on stage because being a fugitive of the state isnt integral to their music (which as aformentioned is a fem job) as criminality is to acht's, who only uses they/them. this also explains the fuck-up made by presumably a new fan who wasnt aware of achts links to the criminal world. marina is a warfare engineer turned fugitive turned dj, so she used she/her in all the time we knew her but was clearly non binary at some point in the middle

does this make sense

[noemitenshi]

Unlovable - A Troy Otto x OC AU Imagine

This story takes place years before FTWD s3 - also goes off canon very early:

Troy's mother dies when he's still a teenager

Jake fucks off to college during that time. Jeremiah also isn't any help

With Tracy's death (and having had no help during all of it - and probably had to go through ridicule on top of it. Can't imagine the funeral was nice either, Jeremiah was probably drunk and mean) Troy decides he's had enough and leaves the ranch (maybe he goes to his step-aunt who he has a somewhat ok relationship with (meaning, he saw her maybe once or twice and she wasn't mean to him).

He manages to get into school and turns out when he's not around his shitty family he's actually pretty good at it (both at making friends and also he's a quick study and has fun learning things). Good enough to get into college where he meets his girlfriend (Ri).

Ri knows he has some trouble with his immediate family, but Troy never talks about it so she doesn't know what had happened (she also doesn't know Troy as anyone else but a pretty charming guy who makes friends easily and is fun to hang around

At some point Jake reaches out to Troy; Jeremiah is dying.

Troy decides to go back to say goodbye (maybe he's being encouraged by both his step aunt and Ri to do that)

He takes Ri with him to the ranch (or she offers and he's not 100% convinced this is a good idea but also he doesn't feel too good going back there and the prospect of having someone with him that's unequivocally on his side is a good one, so)

His girlfriend is very interested in his childhood bedroom of course - and Troy leaves her there to talk to jake or jeremiah or so

She's a curious little thing so she looks through his stuff, of course, nothing in depth, just opening drawers and looking at what kind of things he has and then she moves to his wardrobe and looks at teen-troy's clothes and that's when she finds it

a jacket that spells 'unlovable' on its back

she stares at it, startled. This doesn't seem like Troy's style at all (at least not the Troy she knows).. and she does know things weren't good at his home and so she has the growing suspicion that that word 'unlovable' has something to do with it, that this jacket isn't just a fashion statement but something 'more'. Something bad maybe even. But she doesn't know. She hopes she's overreacting of course, that this jacket is maybe some kind of joke, that when she asks Troy later about it he'll laugh it off and have a cute charming story about it

When Troy comes into the room and sees her with the jacket in hand he freezes. That's her first clue that she was very wrong with her hope of this being harmless. Then his face blanks in a way she is unfamiliar with and a cold shiver moves down her back "Where did you find this?" he asks and his voice is devoid of any emotion too. How strange to hear it like that when he's normally bursting with emotions. She only manages a headnod towards the wardrobe. Then she finds her voice again, though it's thin, so thin. "Troy… baby, why did you have this?" His face does something complicated, like an aborted grimace or a pained snarl. He doesn't want to talk about it, like he never wants to talk about his homelife. But Ri can't stop thinking 'unlovable', can't stop imagining that this was what he'd felt, living here with his family, and she needed to know. Needed to know whether this was the truth, whether this was what he'd went through, or whether she was just making things up. God, let this just be her overactive imagination. Troy scowled, refusing to answer. "Talk to me. Please, Troy. Tell me this is just some silly little joke." and she clutches the jacket tighter in her hands. "Oh, it's a joke, alright," Troy grounds out. And then he tells her the whole story, how the joke was on him. How he was the black sheep in his family, how everyone expected only the worst of him, how his dad was always disappointed in him and his brother was always annoyed with him and how not even his mother could love him. How he'd been so convinced that there was something wrong with him, because his family had been so convinced of it. How everyone on the ranch knew it. How Jake made fun of Troy among his friends, his girlfriends. And how one girlfriend had thought it especially funny to get him this very jacket, the jacket that spelled out what everyone thought of him. That he was less, not enough. Something so wrong with him that he was simply unlovable.

The more Ri listens to him, the angrier she gets, and the more her conviction grows that she needs to absolutely make sure Troy does not believe this. That he knows his family had been dead wrong. That Jake's (ex?) girlfriend could suck it. All these emotions swirled in her, building up and up all the while he talked and when he was done she had the intense urge to do something about it (and words didn't seem nearly enough; what could one say to that?!). And so she decided on actions, dropping all her clothes while troy watched her, blinking, and slipping the jacket on. Then she proceeded to show him just how loved he was.

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 9 - garden fashions over the years

Let’s talk about something season-overlapping: The development of garden fashion. I don’t have a very solid reason for separating the from the usual outdoors fashion, except that there is a very distinct color scheme to it – there seems to be a tradition, even after fluffy, frothy lingerie dresses have gone out of fashion, to wear white and cream tones at occasions associated with nature, such as picnics, flower shows, and cricket tournaments.

So, let’s see how this looks like from seasons 1 to 3.

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

Starting with Violet – first picture is from the garden party at the season 1 finale, second from the season 3 cricket match. The obvious parallel: Violet wears a high-necked white blouse and over it a cream coat with wide lapels. Simple enough statement, but the pre-war outfit goes all in on the lace; the yoke of her blouse and the better part of the lapels is all Edwardian lace. Also note the hat with the wide brim. Come 1920, Violet keeps her general style, but this outfits looks a lot smoother, a lot less busy. The sleeves are less poofy, the chest is not so fluffed out, the lapel and cuff decoration is now nothing more than a simple black line and a little fringe. The hat she chooses this time is a much smaller affair, albeit no less decorated with the tulle drape and the lace ornament.

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

Isobel goes in walking suits, and the one from season 1 is exquisite. The slanting cut and the layered lapels and the button rows? This jacket is a thing of beauty. Late season 1 gives the impression that Isobel is starting to enjoy high fashion, and I can see why. Funnily, if you look closely, she seems to be wearing the exact same blouse with scalloped lace on top under both walking suits here, several years apart. I admit, I find the later suit a little unspectacular in comparison, but it looks quite nice with the straw hat and the little nacre brooch, and she wears it again in season 4, so she must like it.

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

Cora’s turn. She wears this darling cream coat with black soutache embroidery for the season 1 flower show, and the kind of hat that’s made me want to own an Edwardian hat. It’s huge and knows no stinginess with its decoration. The end of season 1 has her go with a little straw hat with a velvet ribbon instead, although they put some effort into pleating said ribbon. A cute dress with a lace collar to go with this; it looks a little more homely and cozy than the super chic coat. And then by season 3, her cricket day outfit is just… kind of boring. There’s no decoration to speak of on either the dress or the jacket. Pretty necklace, I guess? Why do you put only one flower on that hat when it has place for three to five?

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

Rosamund opts for a walking suit in season 1, and I gotta say, this one compels me, not because the suit itself has anything spectacular in its cut except maybe the pleating on the sides, but because the black contrast elements elevate this so much. And the hat. Oh my god, I have severe hat envy. This is gorgeous. Again, season 3 brings us a much smaller hat and, I have to say it, a much less interesting one. It’s fine, I guess; it just doesn’t make me yearn so. She wears a dress and jacket to it that are pretty shapeless; the 1920s care not about the human figure and how to accentuate it. But Rosamund also has a holdover element: The little white netting gloves.

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

Stripes on Michelle Dockery are the only reason why I am a little in love with Mary after all. Just a tiny bit, very shallowly so. She’s a goddess, especially in the first picture with that swoon-worthy hat with champagne satin flowers. The lace collar framing her shoulders doesn’t hurt, and neither does the necklace in the second picture (that she stole from her mother). In comparison, her first garden look in season 3 is kind of eh. Nice shiny material and the little shoulder detail is cute, but I happen to think that this shape of pseudo-bonnet hat is difficult to pull off. So let’s talk about her cricket dress instead! A drop-waist summer dress with short sleeves and a kind of winged lapel collar; this looks nice. Love the little button row down the side of the waist. And the hat is much better.

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

I keep remembering Lavinia as this slight, small thing, but her actress is only an inch or so shorter than Mary’s. I guess I can see why – they kept dressing her in very girly, youthful outfits. Not much to compare here style-wise as she’s only around in season 2, but these dresses are cute, cream silk satin and white lace. They still inherit a little more of the pre-war styles than others here, what with the waistbands and the rather voluminous, gathered skirt on the right one. And the lace yoke on the left one is adorable.

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Different than Edith, who is not meant to look adorable in her season 1 dresses. Oof. They put her in these while Mary is running around looking like a goddess. I guess that’s the entire point, but I still resent it. She’s dressed like a little girl in a scene in which her romantic hopes are crushed, for heaven’s sake. Fuck that lace collar with a chainsaw. So, she is one of the people who gets a serious upgrade to season 3. I like this new summer dress; it looks so breezy and light. The embroidered yoke is beautiful, and so is the patterned hat ribbon.

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And I’m taking in Sybil and Rose in one go because Sybil doesn’t live long enough for post-war garden fashions and Rose only has the post-war fashions because she’s quite a bit younger. Sybil has this cute flowered white dress with what looks to be a chiffon wrap overlay and a cute little belt with a golden clasp. Rose on the other hand wears something more similar to Edith’s new dress, a simple white summer dress with a chiffon overlay. Simple but lovely.

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That's as much as I can fit into one go; if I find enough white or cream garden dresses in the later seasons, I will take this up with another post.

Why yes, we do have a reason to celebrate! We’re going to get married by the end of summer, all three of us! Class-breaking polycules for the win!