#i just finished the show and i have so many thoughts and feelings about it and the brothers

[dcxdpdabbles]

Heyo! I've been loving the content! Especially new management, that was a phenomenal read. Was wondering if you had further thoughts or scenes on it or on the Single Dad Au? I think the only story I like better than these two is congratulations, it triplets!

Adore your work! Phenomenal!

Damian did not trust Daniel Fenton.

The man pretended like he wanted nothing from his Father besides his heart—not his wealth, not his influence, not his company, and not even his vast amount of skills.

Even Damian's mother—who was in love with Father for a time—could not conceal the knowledge that marrying Father would elevate her position in Grandfather's eyes. There was a time when Damian believed love—the romantic type—was not real, that it was unnecessary.

Since his arrival at Wayne Manor, he's learned to acknowledge that love does exist, but he still believes it's never unconditional. He knows that Fenton has to be after something. He attempted to find the answer, but as loath as he was to admit it, Damian had not detected any hit of what Fenton was after.

His hours of surveillance on the man only showed him that Fenton enjoyed writing for his silly little book series- a fantasy novelist how quant- but was self-published and did not attempt to get father to fund him

. Fenton also spent much time with his daughter but seemed happy to support her in anything she wanted as long as she put in the effort, so he was not after Father influenced her. Fenton had no interest in Wayne Enterprises, often looking a tad bored whenever Father spoke of it- not dismissive, just lost- which meant he wasn't after the company.

He discovered that Fenton lived modestly despite having a decent amount of funds. He was middle class and seemed rather happy to stay in the middle class.

Damian would have looked deeper into Fenton, but Father had caught on to his surveillance and had forbidden him from scaring away his lover. Knowing that he required backup, Damian had called a sibling meeting.

He was expecting better results than them just speaking about the benefits of Fenton and Father dating. They should focus on how to defend Father's heart once Fenton's true intentions become visible.

It wasn't that Fenton didn't love Father- or getting there- but he would have a darker side to him that Father was unprepared for. Damian was sure of it.

He just needed to find it.

That's why he approached the man's daughter. Indeed, she would open the opportunity to get closer to the man after his father without using his training to follow Fenton. Father could not fault his brilliant walkabout.

Damian was just not prepared for her to be more tolerable than the regular fools in Gotham. She was a fellow artist with a love of nature and travel.

She took him to different parts of Gotham, where they could find animals and wonderful buildings to draw. Dani also always shared her music—he didn't want to listen, but it allowed him to build a profile on her—and he found she also had an application for classical covers of pop music.

Dani also seemed so unbothered by anything. She moved as if she had never been weighed down by any issues. She was weightless but not lost. Seeing someone so at peace with themselves was odd, so Damian sometimes forgot why he was spending time with her.

Sometimes, he just relaxed with her and spoke to her, and really, she was far better than the fools his Father took in.

Dani one day asked if he would go with her to the mall. She wanted some new clothes, and Damian found that her style was rather artistic. This style also caused many stares from those close to their age.

He watched as she walked through the street, owning it with her presence and powerful, unchained personality. Then she acted like she didn't even care, though she definitely knew it.

That is why when she offered to help him buy an outfit, Damian agreed with far too much enthusiasm before she finished. He even wore it out of the store, feeling...like he got close to her unchained freedom. He kept glancing into the reflection of mirrors, a rish of glee at how great he felt in clothes that he would have scoffed at.

He also appreciated how people gawked at them as if they were the most fascinating thing they had ever seen. Damina enjoyed following beside Dani's stride, grinning up at her as she told jokes.

"Dude, it's crazy to think that if our Dads get married, we'll be siblings," she says one day, and Damian startles. She leans over, helping him adjust the beanie she got him, a more blurt red of her own, and Damian's eyes go very wide as she grins at him.

Damian's eyes go very wide.

He hadn't even thought of that.

He races home after she takes him to a slam poetry night, snapping her fingers with that interesting, peaceful, fully in-the-moment-without-stress personality of hers.

Damian kicks the door to Father's office and shouts, "Father, you must marry Daniel Fenton at once!"

He misses that Fenton is also there, sipping from a teacup. He'd never seen Father look that embarrassed before, either. Though Fenton seemed rather pleased, which helped his new quest of making Dani his new, much more enjoyable sister that left him in awe.

She promised to take him to her favorite store for more pastel goth outfits next week, too. Once her father marries in, they might turn it into a weekly thing.

[lcriedlastnight]

Fake dating and drunken kisses with Oscar. The drunken kisses, with reader's fingers in Oscar's hair and reader sitting in his lap, kissing him with no restraint; things getting heated, Oscar's hands slipping under reader's top and earning a slight shiver from her. All the while, Oscar could only wish reader would kiss him like this when they're sober. Oscar lets that thought linger until they both fall asleep in each other's arms after kissing way too many times to count because they can't seem to get enough of each other.

thanks anon, lovely! i appreciate you very much.

tw: fem!reader. maybe a few swears. not spell checked. not too sure, lmk if you want me to add any.

w/c: 1.8k

it wasn’t oscar’s idea, he swears. but now he’s here, at this club, filled with his fellow drivers, random celebrities he can’t be arsed to learn the names of, multiple fan girls trying to get with lando and you.

he wasn’t even sure it was lando’s idea to go out to some random club in miami to celebrate his first win. it probably was, if he thought straight, but how could he? with a mix of a constant supply of alcohol and you swimming through his veins, he doesn’t know how anyone expects him to think straight.

he had the pleasure of you being glued to his side from the moment the both of you stepped into the club, your hand not leaving his arm for a whole thirty minutes.

this was all for show of course, but his friends around him didn’t know this, they thought whatever you and him had going on was real and it was nights like these where he could play into his deepest fantasies. the ones where you’re not all over him because you have to be, but because you want to be. like he longs for you to be.

you started off sitting beside him. your hand sitting loosely on his forearm, your touch light and tickling a little as you run your fingers over his bare skin. the more drinks you were convinced to down with lando, and the shots logan told you tasted so good, ended up with you being a little more than drunk.

so you went from sitting politely beside him, three hours before, to your legs slung over his lap, half sitting on him half not.

because oscar had had significantly less than you to drink tonight he was way less drunk and more tipsy. drunk enough to follow in your footsteps with how affectionate you were being. although he didn’t think he had to have alcohol to do it. just your permission.

“the thing is, batman really did hate the joker he was just afraid to let him know it. he for sure has like emotional problems or something. but by the end of the film he lets everyone in and it’s so nice!”. you had just finished explaining the plot of the lego batman film to oscar. he nodded along, listening as best as he could, although you did loose him at some points, he would have to watch it to see what you were talking about.

the table was almost empty by the end of your ramble, everyone having left because they didn’t really care much, neither did oscar but he cared about what you cared about so maybe he did.

he hums as his hand played with your hair, brushing it away from your face and tangling it between his fingers. he had a strong urge to kiss you right now. but your agreement had been to only kiss if everyone wasn’t convinced, which meant you guys had only kissed once or twice. and that was at the start of- well whatever this was. everyone was easily convinced you two were together. oscar didn’t know whether to be happy at annoyed.

oscar’s knocked out of his thoughts by you shuffling around to sit yourself on his lap. your smile bright.

“thanks for listening osc. m’gonna kiss you now, okay?” you mumble out, your hands holding onto his shoulders. oscar’s on your hips, holding you still.

he barely get a second to even register your words before your leaning down and locking your lips on his. he feels guilty because you’re way more drunk than him but before he can pull away from you, your mouth opens and you’re sloppily kissing him a little bit harder. he returns the favour, quickly.

you’re both interrupted by a voice calling over to you both to ‘get some!’. you pull away embarrassed, hiding your head in the crook of oscar’s neck. his hands jump to cradle the back of your head and your neck. his touch gentle and loving. oscar wants to kill whatever driver hollered at them. now you’re embarrassed and you’ll probably never want to kiss him again!

after maybe ten minutes you pop your head out from it’s hiding place. your eyes glassy as you stare at oscar.

“can we go home?” you ask him. you seem less drunk than you were before the kiss. maybe it sobered you up? oscar thinks for a moment before replying. “home?”.

“your room.” you clarify. your words come out shy, which surprises him. he’s never really seen you shy before. it’s a side he comes to enjoy. he nods at your words and quickly pulls his phone out to book an uber for you both.

you ungraciously pull yourself off his lap and stand, wobbling in your heels next to the table, waiting on him. oscar is quick to follow suit, making sure he has your purse and that your purse has all your things inside. once he’s sure he has everything he grabs your hand in his.

“c’mon pretty. we gotta say bye to lando first before we leave.” he tells you, voice all soft and syrupy. you nod, agreeing.

oscar pulls you through all the dancing bodies on the dance floor, his hand gripping yours tightly making sure you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd of people. he eventually spots lando in the corner and explains that you’re both leaving.

“you’re leaving! why?!” lando complains over the loud, thumping music. you wobble on your heels and half fall into oscar, who catches you quickly, like if you were to fall you would die.

“we’re getting pretty tired” oscar tells him, his eyes saying sorry, but he wasn’t really. not when you were coming home with him. lando pouts and complains but eventually bids you both goodnight before finding his dance partner again.

oscar says goodbyes to other people he sees on the way to the door, hand still clutching yours. you mumble your goodbyes too not wanting to seem rude. the uber is waiting for you both outside and oscar couldn’t be more glad wanting to get you to the hotel as soon as he can.

the boy helps you inside then gets inside too. he helps you buckle your belt, the alcohol in his system helping him converse with the driver, his hand glued to your thigh, rubbing softly.

you rest the side of your head on the car door and it thumps against it as the car follows the roads bumps and turns. oscar looks at you in concern but doesn’t mention it. the ride to the hotel isn’t as long as you thought it would be but you think it must be because of the alcohol.

oscar helps you out the car and thanks the driver before grabbing your hand again and leading you into the hotel. he thanks his luck once again this night, as he thinks about how lovey you were being with him. he knows you don’t do it normally because it’s not in your agreement unless necessary but god, to have you touch him like this when you were sober.

you both cling to each other in the elevator as oscar presses soft kisses to your shoulder as you stand in front of him. you lean your head back on his chest, revelling in his affection. the elevator stops at his floor and he leads you to his room.

“i’m sleeping in your bed with you tonight, by the way” you say as he swiped the key card and ushers you inside.

oscar’s brows jump up in surprise and amusement as a smirk makes its way to his mouth. “where else would you be sleeping, hm?” he asks.

that stupid smirk just makes you want to kiss it off of him, so you do. you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. oscar feels you straining and leans down to kiss you better. your hands make their way up to his hair to tug a little, earning yourself a little groan. this makes you smile into his mouth. he pulls away at this.

oscar doesn’t think his life can get any better as be presses firm kisses to your lips before pulling away, your own lips chasing his. he throws his head back with a silent groan before asking, “m’kay pretty girl, time for bed?”. you nod and let him lead you to get ready for bed.

you take significantly longer than oscar to get ready for bed, so he sits in his once lonely bed waiting for you, thinking about how good he must’ve been in his past life to be able to do this with you tonight. he wants to be this domestic with you for the rest of his life. he’s not even being dramatic. the sound of your footsteps breaks him out of his train of thoughts.

“hey, look at you! c’mere pretty.” oscar coos as he pats his lap, signalling for you to sit. you follow his directions and clamber into his lap, still a little drunk. the boy holds back a chuckle. he feels drunk then too but not off those stupid shots you took with logan, off your touch. he thinks about your dress from tonight. then he kisses you again.

oscar traces your lips with his tongue and you open for him, letting him in. you kiss each other lazily, you’re in no rush. your hands find his hair again tugging again. in retaliation his own hand moves from your waist to slide underneath your (his) t-shirt. he lays a big, open palm on your back, almost supporting you as you sit on top of him.

you two kiss for what seems like days but is only a few hours. oscar can tell from your kiss bitten lips. he smiles at your tired and glassy eyes as you tell him you’re tired.

you end up with your face pressed against his chest and your legs tangled up with his, your feet touching his somehow. you mumble into his chest, but oscar misses it.

“what, pretty?” he asks, a hand scratching gently at your scalp to help lull you to sleep.

“said night osc.” you tell him, a little louder this time. he grins at your tired voice.

“oh. sorry, g’night pretty girl” oscar must be too late though as he feels your breath even out. he sighs to himself, his hand still moving. there’s no way he was getting sleep any time soon. mind racing around the fact that he could be doing this every night with you, if he just told you.

your touch, your kisses, every night. oscar loved seeing you free tonight. he wanted that for you everyday. there was definitely a conversation to be had tomorrow.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

My Place or Yours? [Joel x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

Ship: Joel Miller x you/f!reader

Tags/warnings: Reader doesn't like weddings, kissing.

Summary: You're being tortured at a wedding, but there is a man there who saves your evening.

Words: 1,550

A/N: This is written for the Summer Lovin' challenge by @pedgito, who also made the moodboard. I picked the theme 'wedding', which was a weird choice for me because I really hate weddings, but I got Joel to help me get through it. Enjoy!

”I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Had those magic words only been the end of your misery, this day would have been easy-peasy. But no, you wouldn’t get off the hook that easily. It was only the beginning of an evening filled with awkward speeches, parental tears, and drunk best men giving dubious toasts.

You just don’t do weddings well. Anyone you ever talked to would tell you that it’s because you’ve been burned, because you’re single, ”once you find Mr Right you’ll start to plan your own wedding!”, et cetera, et cetera. Maybe that’s true, but with your disposition, it doesn’t seem likely that you’ll ever understand the point of paying hundreds of thousands of dollars for one single day during which both your parents get to watch you make out after a minister has sprinkled some magic words over the two of you. It’s just not in your nature. You never dreamed about a fairytale wedding when you were little, and you thought your friends would wise up when you got older, but no. As soon as the question was popped, they all reverted back to their childhood selves, and began planning as if for the event of the millennia.

You’ve been to three weddings these last few years, and it doesn’t get any easier. It’s embarrassing, lavish, awkward, and weird. And as always, you’re there without a partner, and must sit there with a fake smile plastered on your face, with no one to bitch to. At least you’re not the only single one at this wedding; that’s happened before, and even if you didn’t mind being single, you were definitely feeling blue when you got home that night.

At least dinner is good. This particular bride isn’t following any fad diets that she’s forcing on everybody, so you’re enjoying a really delicious three course meal. Still, what would a wedding dinner be without interruptions in the form of long, meandering speeches? You are forced to put down your cutlery one too many times, and by the time you’re finishing your delicious medium rare steak, it’s already cold. Chasing leftover sauce with a piece of bread, you nod encouragingly at the waiter asking you if you want more wine. You want to ask them to leave the bottle, but they probably wouldn’t find it funny.

Too tired to make polite conversation, you start to wait for the unofficial break between main course and dessert, when people get up to stretch their legs. It’s your opportunity to get away for a bit. You even have a modus operandi for it: you bum a cigarette from one of the smokers even though you’ve never smoked, go to the side, and pretend to smoke it for as long as you can. If the venue is nice, you then walk around and inspect it. This wedding offers a lot in that aspect: it’s a big house, almost a mansion, in the countryside, with a park and lots of smaller, old buildings on the premises. Perfect for hiding, and then you can just return back to the dining-hall late and blame getting lost.

When the break finally is announced, you let the smokers leave first. By the time they're greedily sucking on their cigarettes, you show up and ask for one. Cigarette in hand, and nod in agreement with the light conversation: yes, it was a beautiful ceremony, yes, the dinner is delicious, yes, the bride is so pretty and the groom so handsome. Eventually, you make a break for it, saying something about wanting to see the premises. So you walk away, flicking away the pillar of ash on your unsmoked cigarette.

The din of the house grows distant as you walk across the yard, shamelessly dropping the cigarette and crushing it with your foot before heading for the garden, quickly as if to escape the disgusting smoke. Once you reach the first, fragrant rose bushes, you start to relax. You find a bench and sink down on it with a relieved sigh. The light breeze smells of oleander, the birds are chirping, and it's pleasantly warm. Perfect.

You dig into your evening bag and check your phone. No messages, of course: most of your friends are at the wedding. Putting the phone away to instead enjoy the garden, you remain seated for a little longer than you know is considered polite. When you finally rise to go back, you notice someone approaching you. A man, around your age, a friend of the groom's, you think, but you've never talked to him.

"Hi," he calls out. "You okay?"

"Sure," you nod easily, "I just needed some air."

"A lot calmer here, isn't it?" He's standing in front of you now, all broad shoulders and narrow hips. Very handsome, but you're feeling defensive, and when your answer delays a little too long, he clears his throat.

"Sorry. Hi." He extends his right hand. "Joel. I'm a friend of Mark's."

You take his hand and give him your name. He doesn't let go immediately after shaking your hand.

"Nice to meet you." That smile. Goddammit, that's a charming smile. When his warm hand finally unclasps yours, you want to reach for it again.

"Can I help you, Joel?" you ask instead, trying to sound unperturbed.

"I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be okay?"

He shrugs lightly, passing a hand over his hair. A curl bounces back to gently lick his forehead.

"You just looked like you weren't maybe having such a good time."

Well, shit. You thought you  had been keeping a straight face, but clearly you had failed. Your gaze flickers, and you clear your throat.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m not good at weddings.”

He chuckles low, but not maliciously.

“It shows.”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to keep a straight face for all these hours,” you snap, a little harsher than intended. Joel holds his hand to his chest.

“Didn’t mean to offend you.”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry. We better get back before they send out a search party.”

“Hey, lemme make it up to you. Can I have the first dance with you?”

Frowning, you eye him, expecting him to be joking. But his gaze is open and honest.

“Sure,” you eventually smile. “Find me when the dancing starts.”

And so it is that after dessert and another couple of meandering speeches, after the bride and groom have danced their first dance, Joel finds you in the crowd. He leads you to the dancefloor with a steady hand, and when he puts his arm around your waist, you don’t mind that his hand comes to a rest a little lower than expected. He keeps eye contact, but not in a creepy way as he makes small talk, asking you about your life more than he talks about his own. He seems genuinely interested in you, and that makes your head swim more than the alcohol.

When the music changes to something more energetic, you pull him to the side.

“Not my cup of tea,” you explain, and he nods, seemingly happy with being off the dancefloor as people begin to shake their asses.

“A drink?”

“Sure.”

He takes you to the bar and you both get drinks. The bride and her bridesmaids are cheering loudly on the dancefloor, and the noise is beginning to wear you down.

“Let’s go out?” you suggest to Joel, who nods.

There are some people scattered around the yard, but the garden is empty. The smell of roses is even stronger now when the hour is late, and you notice that you’re actually enjoying yourself. Joel is so easy to talk to, you’re comfortable in his company, and he makes you laugh.

“Hey,” you finally say. “Thanks for not being weird about me not liking weddings.”

“Why would I be weird about it?” He sounds genuinely surprised.

“Because everybody loves weddings, and I just can’t,” you shrug, but with a hint of desperation in your voice. “And if you don’t like them, then you’re just bitter and probably in need of the right person to have your own wedding with.”

He’s quiet for a moment, sips his drink.

“I know I can keep a secret,” he starts, his voice low, “but can you?”

“I can.”

“I don’t like weddings, either.”

You stare at him for a moment before slapping his arm.

“You could’ve told me earlier!”

He laughs. “I know, I know, I’m sorry!”

“Asshole!” you blurt out, but can’t say more, because Joel’s lips are on yours, and you drop your glass on the gravel where it shatters, splashing liquor over your feet. And you don’t give a single goddamn. Your hands come up to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and you kiss him back, tasting the whiskey on him, a peppery twang from the steak he had earlier, the bristles on his face scratching your skin.

When you finally have to step back to take a breather, he licks his lips and looks at you with heavy-lidded, dreamy eyes.

“Not too soon?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Just perfect.”

He grins. “How soon d’you think it would be polite to leave?”

“I don’t care, we’ve suffered enough. My place or yours?”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

hello hello can i ask for reader (either new transfer or someone they're just consulting with) hellbent on avoiding and not talking to spencer bcs he keeps rambling off about stuff everytime they're in his vicinity but they just have a really bad history of men mansplaining things to them so even tho spencer doesn't give off that vibe they just can't help but be sensitive to it 😔🤲🏻

tweaked jussst a bit gn!reader. i need to work on making my brain bigger so i can give more detail for spencer.

“well there many ways one can create their own bomb. they could use proper chemical equipment or just simple house hold items you can buy from anywhere.”

“well actually there’s only four ways to create one and most people go the homemade route. which is the most difficult to trace due to them being bought in plain sight.” a tall, skinny agent beside a man in the well pressed suit just reiterated what you said. you took an exhale through your nose to withhold an eye roll.

“yes, what i said. sulfuric acid is a common ingredient so i’d look into people’s recent purchases and cross reference that with their past criminal history.” you moved around lab as you shuffled and stacked papers, “if you need anymore help seems you already have someone with the answers. good luck.” leaving the two federal agents behind as you exited into the hallway with a tiny chip sitting on your shoulder.

what was the reason to seek you out if they already had someone who’d know their answers? probably once they saw who you were they wanted to intimidate you, that one guy wanted to show off that he knew the same information as you. no one ever gave you the respect in this department, many ‘colleagues’ have taken credit for work that you’ve done. they always talk over you or explain a concept that you already knew, seeing as you were in the same field as said mansplainer.

“someone looks to be in a mood.” oh great, if your hour couldn’t get worse. you didn’t bother looking at dr. fray, he was said mansplainer that always thought he was more inept when really you have a higher standing than him.

“since you left those agents on their own i stepped up to help them by giving further detail into their investigation. just helped save some lives, no big dealio.” your periphery saw how he walked with a certain air about him, one that many men carry without a care in the world.

you rolled your eyes as you kept walking to your office, “whatever. they already have someone who knows this information so we weren’t needed anyway.” you pulled your keys from your coat pocket, “well it was not fun walking with you. off you go, fray.” shielding yourself by throwing the door in his face.

you wanted to be away from any type of male for the rest of the day, not wanting to hear their unnecessary chatter, they just like the sound of their own voice. neatly arranging your files on your desk and placing your coat over the back of your chair you were ready to finish some documents when there was a gentle knocking to your door. you weren’t expecting anyone for a meeting so when you were faced with the lanky agent from earlier you couldn’t help as your face shifted into one of annoyance before shifting into neutral.

“was there something you needed, dr. reid?” arms crossed defensively over your chest. you internally hated how he seemed to know almost everything know to man and he seemed to be about your age. you wanted to rip your hair out halfway through your bachelors degree.

dr. reid’s mouth was pressed into a tight line, his fingers twiddling with this satchel strap over his chest. “i- uh i overheard a bit of your- your conversation and just wanted to… apologize?” he ended with a question.

your brows quirked, “apologize? for what?” confused on what was happening. men rarely apologized to you, you’ve been ran down on the street by guys who don’t care about anyone else on the street.

“i didn’t mean to overstep earlier. i understand to an extent what it feels like for people to talk over you or just ignore what you’ve said.” your anger melted just a bit at his words, “and i know for you it’s harder. there’s statistically less then 0.05% of non white males in many fields. i can tell you worked hard to be in this position, so i apologize for earlier.” his mouth probably ran just a tad faster than his brain.

you dropped your defensive stance, hands to link at the bottom of your stomach as you gave dr. reid a friendly smile, the first of the day. “thank you, dr. reid. i appreciate that you recognized your actions and acknowledged my feelings.”

he rocked on his feet, “you can call me spencer.” he said shyly, “also i’ve read a couple of your thesis. and if you have the time when this is over i’d- i’d love to discuss them with you.” you noted how his cheeks started to tint into hues of pink, it was cute.

“would be nice to talk with someone that has a fully functioning brain. you know where to find me, spencer.”

[buuniebaby]

ALL MINE. 🎀

includes: drunk sex (pre-negotiated), daddy kink, jealous possessive hamzah 💗💗💗

wc: 2.5k

here’s your porn.. i am sooo tired but literally first thing in the morning (my alarm is literally set to 5am) im finishing up some hcs and latina reader. 💗

thank you guys for all the support on my fics and being patient with me - it means a lot ! 💖

physical touch has always been your love language.

you’re a relatively clingy person in general, but your affection is doubled when you’re around your boyfriend. it’s always one of your hands somewhere - hip, thigh, arms, or even other places. he reciprocates it, being attached to you by the hip 24/7.

it only gets worse when you’re drunk.

hamzah’s in his car, grasping the wheel with an angry pressure, trying to keep his composure. it’s late - way too late to to be picking you up from the bar. he’s not necessarily upset at you for having fun, and he’s never one to control whether you go to parties or not, drink or not drink, but something about you being intoxicated with so many people around irritates him a bit.

he watches as you, your best friend, and a guy he doesn’t happen to recognize walk out of the door. whoever this guy is, he’s a little too touchy with you for hamzah’s liking. it’s like he’s trying to grope you but doesn’t want to be weird, but it’s still weird anyways.

he decides he’s been pushed a little too far off the edge when he slams his car in park and exits it.

you’re smiling up at him, head lulling back a bit. you’re fucked up, and he can tell. he watches as you droop back into the guy behind you, his walking pace speeding up.

he yells a loud, “baby?” trying to send some sort of signal to the man to show that you’re his. the moment he gets close enough to you to make contact with you, a big hand is yanking you by the wrist into his arms.

you immediately slouch into hamzah’s body, who picks you up over his shoulder and carries you back to the car. his grip is tight, as if someone was trying to steal you from his arms.

“hamzaahhhh,” you groan out, recognizing his possessive touch.

the car ride back is quiet - a mix of your boyfriend’s anger and your drunken sleepiness. it’s not that he’s angry at you; you’re not the problem here. it’s whoever he was, the man touching what belongs to hamzah.

“who was that?” he mumbles, speaking firmly under his breath.

“this guy who my friend.. she was trying to hook up with.. I think.” you mutter, remembering what you’re about to say as you speak it.

“you sure he’s into her? seemed more touchy around you.” he continues, keeping his eyes strictly in front of him.

“ew- don’t say that.” you drag as you speak, drunkenness prominent in your voice. you hear hamzah let out a chuckle under his breath. it calms him a little - he knows you’re better then that. it doesn’t end his irritation, but it makes him feel at least a little bit better.

“you’re mine, by the way.” hamzah says, hand creeping up to your thigh, the other still on the wheel. “don’t forget that.”

it’s still hurting hamzah by the time you get home. he’s aware that he may be being unreasonable, given that you’ve admitted you don’t have any attraction for whoever that was. but it’s the way you sway your hips drunkenly as you walk, thighs showing out of your tiny little dress - a sight he wants to hide away from the world, something that should belong to him. just the thought of anyone else being attracted to you makes him feel like his throat is closing up with anxiety.

as you’re turning the corner to go to your shared room, you force yourself to take a step back, doing a double take. you look at hamzah’s puzzled expression, trying to decipher whether what you’re seeing is real or you’re just drunk.

“you’re mad.” you state, looking at him straight in the eyes. you’re asking a question, but the way it comes out is firm. your brain is a little scrambled.

“m’not-“ he mumbles, stopping himself. “not at you.” he continues as he follows you into your bedroom.

you fall back-first onto the bed, closing your eyes and absentmindedly fidgeting with your fingers as you speak. “something happen?”

he scoffs a bit. you’re what happened.

“i guess you’re just.. really fucking hot. and other people know that, and it’s just like..” he rambles, pausing to think.

“like?” you tilt your head.

“like, i want you all to myself.” he says under his breath, sitting himself next to you on the bed. his comment makes you jolt up, sitting to face him.

you watch as he eyes you down from above. all you do is pout your lips, looking back at him with furrowed brows. you’re not getting it.

“you have me.” you say, firmly, scooting just a tiny bit closer to him. a hand trails to your thigh.

he lets out a deep sigh as he gathers his thoughts. you see his brain computing, like gears turning telling him what to say.

“i’m not saying you’re the problem.” he starts. “i know you’re loyal. i trust you.” you feel his hand move from your thigh to your hand, holding it gently, then giving it a squeeze. it’s a nice affirmation, but you still don’t understand what he’s getting at.

“just want you to be safe- don’t want anyone to hurt you. don’t want you just, trusting any guy at the bar when you’re messed up like this.” he says, rubbing his finger up and down your wrist. you lean your head on his shoulder, processing his words.

“yeah,” you sigh, closing your eyes on his shoulder. you can still feel his stare down at you, even if you can’t see it. “you’re right.”

that’s hamzah’s closure, his key to calm down and cuddle you in bed; rest his mind.

until he hears a quiet, “what if i want to get hurt? like, destroyed.”

“what?” he asks, peace interrupted. he’s turning to you, completely lost. you pout, and suddenly your hand has snuck out of his, now creeping over his sweatpants.

“especially by you.” you smile. now he understands where this is going. he shudders as you softly palm him over his pants. it’s not enough to get him going, but he can feel himself starting to get hard. “want you to use me like im your toy- because I’m yours, hamzah.”

and fuck, does that turn him on. you know exactly how to excite him, even when drunk. you’re pushing all the right buttons, making the possessiveness in him really start to come out.

his hand comes down on yours, bringing your movements to a stop. he breathes heavy for a second, but speaks firmly once his breath is caught. “you’re drunk, baby- i don’t know if you should-“

you interrupt him, coming in cold. “you don’t remember?”

he tilts his head back at you. “remember.. what?”

“i told you, when i was sober.. said you could do anything to me if i was drunk. said that for a reason, y’know.” you recall, giving him a big, eyes-dazed, woozy smile.

it comes back to him all then, and fuck, you’re right. he had completely forgotten about the whole conversation you two had, where you had given him permission to fuck you, even if you were intoxicated.

it’s a mix of that and the imagery in his mind from your prior words that causes him to mutter out a strangled “fuck it,” pulling your body on top of his. you can’t help but let out a squeal-like giggle: you’re finally getting what you’ve wanted.

he’s kneading at your hips before he can even pull you into a kiss. it’s messy when your lips press against his, sloppy kisses leaving spit around his lips.

his hand trails down to the bottom of your dress, pulling it over your ass. he pulls away from the kiss, wanting to see what’s down there, only to be met with a sight that fuels his possessiveness.

“wearing a slutty thong like this out?” he mutters, spanking you hard. “what if someone saw, baby? you know that pretty pussy is just for me.” he continues, rubbing over the same area he just spanked.

“m’sorry-“ you whine, but you’re cut off by your own voice, gasping as he rips your thong literally in half, pulling them off of you.

“it’s okay baby.” he smirks, holding the ripped panties in his hand. “you know that I’m the only guy who gets to see all of you.”

“also, ill buy you a new one.” he whispers, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. next thing you know he’s pulling your dress over your chest.

“no bra either baby?” he says, shaking his head, and suddenly another hand is coming down on your ass. “bad fucking slut.”

you grind your hips into him, apologizing with your body. you whimper out a helpless, “m’sorry, im sorry daddy-“

hamzah pulls back a little at that, pausing.

“what’d you just say?” he says, making sure what he just heard was real.

you continue to frantically apologize, a string of “m’sorry, im yours, i didn’t mean it,” until finally, you say that word.

“i’m sorry, daddy.”

that’s all it takes to get a rise out of hamzah. he’s slamming you down on the bed, crawling on top of you. his hips grind down on your naked body, dick still enclosed by his sweatpants, the friction sending shocks to your clit.

“my fucking slut,” he groans, “showing off her body to the whole fucking world.” his hips slam into yours hard, still fully clothed.

“you need me to mark you up? need everyone to know that you belong to me?” he angrily barks out at you, only making you wetter.

“please- wanna show you off daddy- bruise me.” is all you have to say for hamzah to start biting at your neck. he doesn’t stop at just a few hickeys, no, your throat is covered in bitemarks. he continues down to your collarbone, biting, suckling, nibbling - anything to claim your body as his.

he pulls away, admiring the redness all over your upper half. you’re like an art piece, painted with the red-hot passion coming from his body. you’re his muse.

a hand wraps itself around your throat, putting you in a chokehold. hamzah uses his grip to yank you out of your laying position. from there, he picks you up, pushing you down to the floor. you get on your knees, as if it’s an instinct.

“my pretty girl’s face, my fucking throat.” you hear him mindlessly mumble, untying and pulling down his sweatpants. you can see how hard he is through his boxers, cock nearly peeking out through the waistband. you feel your mouth water as he pulls it out, desperate for it to be inside you.

he slaps the head against your lips, once, twice, before you’re opening up for him. he goes slow at first, letting you dance your tongue around the tip, taking your time.

but hamzah is impatient.

it’s why he’s grabbing at the back of your head, forcing you down to the base. you squeal when your nose makes contact with the thick layer of hair against his skin, balls slapping against your chin. he holds your head there for a second, then lets you pull off for air.

you drunkenly smile up at him, spit slicked around your mouth. he slaps his cock against your face, making you squint your eyes. he laughs at how fucked-out you are, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“such a fucking slut.” he chuckles, deep and under his breath. “only for my cock.”

you smile up back at him stupidly, mouth still covered in slick. “only for your cock,” you repeat after him.

“mhmm? want it inside you?” he teases. what he doesn’t expect is your immediate reaction, excitedly jumping up off your knees and into his lap. you wrap your arms around his neck, bare chest pressed to his shirt.

“please, fuck- need your cock in me sooo bad daddy. want you to fucking use me, so bad, make a mess out of me.” you ramble, giggling as you speak. he grinds his hips up into yours as you relay your fantasies to him, turned on by how desperate you are for his cock, and his only.

“yeah? want it that bad, baby?” he says in a sing-song voice, teasing you. he grips his cock in his hand, touching your bare pussy with just the tip, but he makes sure not to slide it in. you nod, desperately, shaky pleads rapidly exiting your mouth.

“gotta do something for me first. that okay, baby?” he asks, and you’re nodding rapidly.

“mhm? what is it?” you ask back, eager for his cock.

“can you repeat after me, baby?” he softly asks, receiving another nod from you.

“im hamzah’s slut, and all of my holes belong to him.”

you don’t hesitate.

“im hamzah’s slut, all my holes belong to him, my pussy is yours- fuck!” you scream when his cock enters you. he doesn’t hesitate or slow for you to get used to the stretch. he’s claiming every inch of your pussy, going as deep as he can inside of you.

“fucking made for my cock.” he says, snapping his hips up into you at a cruel pace. “taking it so well.”

you can already feel yourself getting close. his dick prods up against that spot every thrust, and his words only make it feel better. you shudder at each brush against your sweet spot, thighs shaking softly against him.

hamzah only increases the pace, thrusting into you with vigor. it’s a brutal assault on your cunt, but god does it feel good. his hand brushes through his curls while the other pins you down to the mattress.

he feels you clench around him, and suddenly his thrusts switch from fast and eager to slow but deep. he follows you as you orgasm around him, planting his cum deep inside you.

he pulls out with a grunt, catching his breath while he admires your body. again - you’re his work of art. he watches as a trickle of cum leaks out of you, and he pushes it back in with his finger.

he’s claimed you.

you’re his.

he pulls himself out of his trance when your body moves out of its position. he remembers how drunk you are again, watching you as you reach to tuck yourself in under the covers. he places a kiss in your cheek before he gets in bed next to you, tucking the two of you in together.

it’s peaceful, domestic- it’s satisfying to him, the way he knows that you won’t get this with any other guy. even when you’re drunk, you still don’t protest his possessiveness. it makes him feel warm inside.

as much as you’re his, he’s yours.

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: SEUNGMIN X READER ☾ ━━━ PROMPTS: A9 "do i look like i moved on?" + N8 "i'll let you do anything if you just touch me right now." ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: RIGHT PERSON; WRONG TIME, MAKE-UP SEX, HAIR PULLING, HAND JOB, FINGERING, MARKING, PROTECTED SEX ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.9K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Not everything worked out. That’s what Y/n kept telling herself. 

     She and Seungmin broke up six months ago. Life just wasn't kind to either of them during their time together. Work was a mess for her and him being an idol and touring, nothing was working out. But it was a hard six months. 

     Especially without talking until he reached out one day and asked if she wanted to talk. She thought everything was fine till she saw him. Shoved in a hoodie and a face mask to hide himself. Y/n giggled a bit at his appearance before walking to the booth he had taken in the corner of the coffee shop. Two drinks on the table. 

     “Hey,” Y/n said as he looked up from his phone.

     “Hey. Ordered you fav,” He said as she took a seat across from him

     “You still remember it?” Y/n half joked

     “Why wouldn’t I?” 

     That made her heart flutter. Six months of no contact and he still remembered things about her. 

     “How’s work?” Y/n asked him

     “Still busy. Getting ready for comeback,” Seungmin sighed, “How’s your work.”

     “Calmed down. Things are a bit easier and I got that promotion.”

     “I’m proud of you. You deserve it.”

     “Thanks. How have you been?”

     “Okay, I guess? I’ve had better days,” Seungmin pulled his mask down to sip his Americano

     “Have you moved on?” The words came out before she could stop them. Both of them just looked at each other for a moment. 

     “Do I look like I moved on?” He asked 

     “I haven’t either…”

     That hung in the air. Neither said anything as they finished their drinks. Only the occasional question about something random. Eventually, they got up to leave and Seungmin offered to walk her home.

     Wanting to spend as much time as he could with her. Selfishly so. Comeback right around the corner, it was busy, before and after. He wanted to try again, that’s why he reached out. He missed her. 

     They weren't perfect, no relationship was. But he knew when they first got together that he wanted her by his side, no matter what. Six months felt like years and he tried his best not to let it show how much the breakup was affecting him. He knew the guys knew it hurt him, but he didn't let anything get in the way of work. 

     He finally broke down and ended up ranting to the rest of his bandmates who were more than supportive of him reaching out and trying to see where she stood and if rekindling the relationship was possible. So he silently walked with her back to her apartment, trying to think of something— anything— to say. Feeling bad when they got to her door and he hadn’t said anything. He was the one who asked to talk to her and their conversation ended when they both established that they hadn’t moved on from each other. Six months later.

     “Do you wanna come in, Min?” Y/n offered

     “Yeah,” Seungmin smiled at her before they both went inside.

     He had been to her apartment so many times before but it felt so weird standing in her entryway. He slipped off the face mask and his hood, shaking his hair out and letting it fall back into place perfectly. Y/n looked at him the whole time. He still made her weak to her knees.

     They made it over to her couch and just sat there. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable but not comfortable fully. Y/n picked at one of her throw pillows, both trying to find something to say.

     “I’m sorry,” Seungmin finally said

     “It’s okay Min. We weren’t in a good place when we were together.” Y/n answered

     “I know, but… I don’t know.”

     “Why did you want to talk today?”

     Seungmin tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling before looking over at her. “I missed you. A lot. I could barely focus at work, wondering if you ate the day, got enough sleep, and if that co-worker you hated was still bothering you. The last six months felt like absolute hell without talking to you. I’m pretty sure there were a couple of times I woke up thinking you were next to me and when I realized you weren’t, I just kind of broke down…”

     Y/n felt her tears pricking her lash line. Sniffling a bit, “She is still bothering me,” Y/n laughed, “I missed you too, Min. The first week was hard for me. It was better for a bit but then I was still getting all the fan edits on social media and there wasn't any way I could let you go.”

     “I know we are having a moment and you're about to cry but you look really pretty and I wanna kiss you.” Leave it to Kim Seungmin to say randomly that made her heart flutter

     “I’ll let you do anything if you touch me right now,” Y/n blurted out

     “Anything?” Seungmin asked 

     Y/n nodded her head and Seungmin crashed his lips onto hers. She didn't even register him moving as he was slowly pushing her back on the couch. Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck as her lips moved in sync with his. Both were desperate to feel the other's lips after months of being apart. The kiss getting more and more desperate and heated. 

     “Min,” Y/n mumbled against his lips before he shoved her tongue down her throat. 

     Y/n moaned into his mouth as she tugged his hair. He didn't dare move away from her till he ran out of breath. Looking down at her, lips all puffy from kissing. “Tell me to stop, Y/n,” His lips attached to her neck, “Need you so fucking badly, in every sense of the word.”

     “I won’t,” Y/n told him as she pulled him up to look at her, “I need you too.”

     “Fuck,” Seungmin groaned, slamming his lips onto hers again. 

     Both moaning into the kiss and Seungmin grinding his hips into hers. Y/n could feel his erection through his jeans, pressing into her. “Fuck me Min. Please,” Y/n said between kisses

     “Take me back. Let me be a better boyfriend this time,” Seungmin said, pulling away from her lips, “Let me fuck my girlfriend and not my ex.”

     “Yes, the answer is always yes, Min.” Something about the way he said it had her pussy fluttering.

     Seungmin smiled and kissed her again. Hands grabbing her hips to hold her still as he grinded into her more. Y/n easily managed to coax him off the couch and drag him to her room. Seungmin stripped himself of his hoodie before pinning her down onto the bed. 

     Hands working in a frenzy to throw off all their clothing. Letting it land in random places in her room till they were fully exposed to each other. Their hands didn't stop once the clothing was off. Needing to feel each other in every way possible. 

     Y/n trailed one of her hands down his stomach and wrapped her fingers around his hard cock. Seungmin moaned into her neck where his lips were currently marking her skin. Y/n worked her hand up and down on him as his fingers made their way between her legs. Slowly rubbing circles into her clit. 

     Slowly his fingers moved down to her entrance and collected her slick before pushing inside. Slowly working her open for him as he pulled his lips away from her neck to look down between them. Y/n threaded her free hand into his hair. 

     His thumb rubbed across her clit as he kissed up her neck and landed on her lips again. Y/n moaned into his mouth as he pushed deeper into her. Both somehow falling into the same pace and stimulating the other.

     “Need to be in you,” Seungmin groaned as he pulled his fingers out of her and moves her hand away from his cock so he didn't blow. 

     “Min,” Y/n whined at the loss of stimulation as he grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer.

     “I’ve got months of making up to do bubs,” Seungmin tore open the wrapper and rolled the rubber on “I’ll make you come all night if that's what you want.”

     Seungmin spread her legs open and lined himself up at her entrance. He leaned over her as he slowly slid into her. Y/n grabbed on his arms as her walls parted making way for him. He took his time to sink into her, letting her warmth wrap around him till he was fully inside her. 

     Seungmin leaned down and kissed her again. Moving down to support himself on his forearms as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. Pulling him as close as possible, needing to be enveloped by him entirely. 

     Slowly he pulled back and pushed back in. Building up his pace as their lips moved together. The idol pushed his tongue into her mouth as his pace sped up. His hips slamming into hers as she moaned into his mouth. She was positive her eyes would’ve rolled into the back of her head if her eyes weren’t closed. 

     Sex was rare for them the first time they were together. Schedules made it difficult to even see each other but when they were together, Y/n was never unsatisfied. How could she be when the man above her always paid attention to her pleasure.

     Eventually pulling away from the kiss the catch their breath— seemingly more difficult for Y/n as Seungmin just knocked the air from her lungs with his dick. Her fingers gripping at his back. Seungmin moved up onto his hands, using the leverage to move quicker.

     “Min, more.” Y/n moaned

     “Whatever you want bubs.” Seungmin smiled as he moved one of his hands from the mattress and rubbed her clit again.

     Y/n arched towards him as her walls clenched around him. His grunts hit her ears like a masterpiece. Nights she had spent thinking of him when she couldn’t sleep couldn’t compare to the real Seungmin. The image in front of Seungmin couldn’t compare his own lonely nights. How did they ever think letting each other go was the best and only option they had months ago?

     “Fuck. Never gonna leave you again,” Seungmin groaned as he pressed harder into her clit

     “‘M close min,” Y/n moaned

     “Already? Gonna give me more later?”

     Y/n simply gave him another moan as a response as her hips jerked against him. Six months without being intimate took a toll on both of them; neither of them really knew. 

     Both their highs buildings and washing over them before they knew it. Y/n’s tumbled down first as she rocked against him. Seungmin let himself explode in the condom as she was coming down. Stilling inside and leaning over, thin layer of sweat on them.

     Seungmin slowly pulled out and took off the rubber, tying it and tossing it in the garbage as he went into her bathroom to grab a towel. Coming back and cleaning her up, being as gentle as possible before throwing the towel in her clothes hamper and cuddled up with her under her covers.

     “I love you. I hope you know that,” Seungmin told her

     “I love you too Min.” Y/n smiled

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[demento-mori]

Alright! Now that ive finished Act 3 ive put together some of my general thoughts and feelings from this section of the game.

First off, I absolutely love how much the dialogue, descriptions, flavour text and so on changes and evolves throughout the loops. There are so many little details and plot threads, such as Siffrin repeatedly hitting their hip against that one corner, and getting increasingly frustrated each time, or learning that the dying plant is Mirabelle's and being able to compliment it in the next loop. It makes the characters and the world seem so organic and alive, and provides a sense of progression as you are able to learn more and more about the world around you. Even though the game gives you the option to loop directly to certain floors and areas, I find that I prefer to go through the house the 'legit' way each time, simply because I'm so eager to see whats changed.

Siffrin's psychological decline has been devastating to watch play out, especially since you, the player, are right there alongside them. You're also hoping that each new dialogue unlocked, and each change in the loop means that you've found the right solution to end the loops, and everytime you're disappointed and feel like your efforts were all for nothing. This especially hit home in regards to the party/family members. The first time you do each of their friendship quests its so heartwarming and emotional, you feel so happy that you've been able to get to know them better and become closer with them. But then, in each subsequent loop the impact of those quests lessen, and its easy to begin seeing them as just another hurdle you have to overcome in order to progress. It mirrors how Siffrin gradually stops seeing them as autonomous beings and rather as actors in a play, who he is "manipulating" to get his own happy ending.

The changes in the game's artwork that show Siffrin looking more worn down and tired is equally devastating. Its a small but very effective detail that drives in how the loops are wearing down on them. It almost feels like the game itself is becoming more and more corrupted as the loops wear on.

The worldbuilding is on another level. Like, you can tell that so much thought and care has been put into the world. The countries and their different customs, the religions and their practices and mythology. The language, the fashion, the magic system, the history. One thing that really stand out to me is how Vaugarde is clearly a very wonderful place, but its far from a utopia and there are still societal issues and injustices. For example, rather than taking the route of "there is absolutely no prejudice, all races genders and sexualities are equal", the game shows that gender and romantic/sexual attraction are all widely accepted and seen as fluid due to the change belief, but conversely aromanticism and asexuality are not as common or accepted as they clash with the religions practices. This makes the world seem much more fleshed out and believable, as it provides clear and convincing justifications for why the society is the way it is. And all of this isnt even getting into the more spoilery worldbuilding elements, such as colours and the island north of vaugarde, or even simplier stuff like the other countries and their cultural differences, or the various different vaugardian towns and their unique customs.

I feel like Isat is the only video game Ive ever seen that utilises the time loop concept to its full potential, let alone accomplising that in a way that still translates to a well-made and engaging gameplay loop(ha). Both the gameplay and the story make full use of the time loop gimmick in order to craft a compelling narrative, to explore the characters, their backstories and development, and the psychological effects of the situation upon them to their maximum potential, and to ensure that the gameplay loop never becomes stale and is able to consistently keep the player invested with new things to explore each loop. Its truly a masterpiece of game development.

[ateliersss]

Journey into The Past Ch.1

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader Summary: They say every human has their person, even some as cold, heartless and cruel as the Dark Lord. Would you try and tell that to Harry Potter, of all people, he would not hesitate to deny even the slightest hint of someone having feelings more than blazing hate for that man, this monster. A journey into the past shows him a different part of the former life of the murderer of his parents. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 1,869

“Chocolate Frogs.” Harry murmured to the eagle statue, which jumped to the side a second later.

He was tired — Snape looked everywhere for an opportunity to give him detention, Ron and Hermione still avoided each other like the plague, and he still had no idea how to get this memory from Slughorn.

As he dragged himself up the staircase, he thought of an excuse why he still didn’t have it. Harry knocked on the office door and was soon called in by the Headmaster’s familiar, calm voice.

“Good evening, Harry.” Dumbledore greeted him from his chair, “Please sit down.” He added and pointed to the chair standing in front of his desk.

Harry closed the door and made his way through the office when he noticed something on the desk — alongside the usual silver instruments, the bowl of Dumbledore’s favourite sweets, some books and parchments, vials containing a silvery shimmering liquid stood on top of the dark wooden surface. Sitting down, they were on the same eye level as him and stared at him judgingly, as if they wanted to remind him of his failure.

“Professor, I–“

“–haven’t found a way to get the memory from Professor Slughorn.”

Harry shamefully looked down at his feet.

“If you did, you would have come to me the second you got your hands on it.”

“I’m sorry, Professor.”

“I have faith in you, Harry. You will find a way. Nevertheless, we will have to continue with our journey through Voldemort’s past.” Dumbledore said, eyes shifting to the gleaming vials. “These memories belonged to an incredibly smart and determined girl, always respectful and friendly to others.”

Dumbledore got up, walked around his desk and took the vial from the far left. The Pensieve was already floating next to them. Harry got up as well and watched Dumbledore pour the memory into it. The memory turned into an ink-like substance and slowly took on a hazy image. Harry dipped his head into the Pensieve and soon felt the familiar tug, lifting him out of reality and into the memory.

Harry was standing in a library, the library of Hogwarts. It had barely changed and was completely empty. Nothing surprising, it was already dark outside.

Just as he was about to turn to Dumbledore and ask him if they were in the right place, he heard a giggle, undoubtedly coming from a girl. Dumbledore headed in the direction of the giggles. Harry quickly caught up with him.

They passed the many bookshelves until they reached the barred doors of the Restricted Section. Following Dumbledore who apparently knew where to go, Harry soon saw the source of the voice.

“I mean it, Tom, stop bothering me. I still have to finish this.” You scolded, trying to suppress your laughter to sound serious.

To say that Harry was shocked by what he saw would be an understatement.

None other than Voldemort — or rather, Tom Riddle — was standing right behind you. He was bent forward so that your heads were on the same level. He brushed your hair aside, slowly revealing the eagle of Ravenclaw on your robes, and slowly kissed your neck up and down.

“You can do it later.” He groaned, his voice muffled against your skin.

“You know I can’t. I put it off until now and it’s due tomorrow.”

“You can copy mine.”

“No, I can’t. Slughorn will notice it.”

“He will ignore it. He loves you.”

“No, Tommy, he loves you. I’m just his second favourite.”

Tom let out a frustrated groan and buried his face into the crook of your neck. “I told you how much I hate it when someone talks back to me.”

You laughed at his antics. “And I told you, you would get bored. You didn’t have to come.”

“You’ll need me when someone catches you outside of curfew.” He countered half-heartedly, nuzzling his face deep into the crook of your neck.

With an eye roll, you tapped the badge on your chest. “Did you already forget I’m a prefect too?”

Tom ignored you and lifted his head slightly to watch your feather scurry across the parchment.

“Why don’t you take a look around? Maybe you will find an interesting book.” You suggested after a while.

When you got no answer, you sighed and wriggled out of his grasp, got up and disappeared between the gloomy bookshelves. You came back five minutes later and handed him a book.

“You told me you were fascinated by such things. I stumbled upon it a week ago.” You looked up at him and smiled.

Tom’s lips curled slightly upwards. Anyone else would have missed it, but not you. Your smile grew even brighter.

You pulled him down to meet his lips for a quick peck before sitting back down on your chair.

“Thank you, darling.”

He sat down casually on the chair next to yours, flipped through the book and flew over most of the pages. After a while, he stopped and began to read with an intrigued expression on his face. He suddenly seemed interested and he immersed himself in the written words. Then he looked up and at you, an expression on his face that Harry didn't like at all.

That must have been the end of the memory, because Harry was back in Dumbledore’s office again. His brain tried to comprehend what just happened.

Voldemort had someone, a person who looked at him as if he put the sun, the moon and the stars onto the sky. And in return, he had kissed this person, had clung to them as if they would disappear if he let them go even for a second.

Harry just met a completely new side of Voldemort, one he never expected to exist, one that was impossible to exist.

Voldemort had been soft. Or at least softer than one might imagine a cold-hearted, loveless and ruthless mass murderer to be. It didn't make any sense.

Dumbledore watched the conflicted expression on his face intently as the wheels kept turning in his head. “I believe you have some questions.”

Harry startled out of his thoughts. “I… Voldemort…” He stumbled over his words, not knowing to which question he wanted to have an answer first. “She was his girlfriend?”

“Yes. (Y/N) (L/N) was, as I already told you, an astounding student. Not only had her fellow Ravenclaws admired her, but almost the entire school. Very honest and responsible. Ideal for the role as a prefect, as you've seen, and later even as Head Girl. It was impossible for Voldemort not to notice her. There had been a rivalry between the two of them from the beginning, as they were fighting for the title best student. As you know, Tom Riddle was a great student with remarkable grades and loved by his teachers and classmates. So was (Y/N), indeed a very gifted and talented witch. However, when he saw there was no possibility for a breakthrough, he charmed his way into her life, but not with a little resistance from her side. She was probably one of the fewer people who were suspicious of him.”

“But she was still with him?”

“She was a 16-year-old girl who fell for the handsome and strange boy who was fascinated by her. A girl like her had many admirers, but he was the only one who could challenge her and was intellectually on par with her. In a way, she was also fascinated by him. Both were an interesting mystery to the other and they were eager to solve it.”

“So he was playing with her?”

“To be honest with you, Harry, I don’t think so.”

“Then what is it?”

“Love.”

Harry looked at Dumbledore as if he had just expelled him from Hogwarts and sent him back to the Dursleys. “But I thought…”

“It wasn’t typical love, the type of love we both know. It was more of a mix of mutual understanding, admiration, trust and something deeper. Just because Voldemort is incapable of loving someone, it doesn’t mean he was emotionless.”

“It’s hard to believe that Voldemort cares for someone else.”

“For someone who didn’t experience him in his school days, it’s easy to say. She had a not insignificant influence on him.” Dumbledore said with a smile before sitting back in his chair.

Harry did the same and asked, “What happened to her? I mean, if she and Voldemort were a couple, she could help us find the Horcruxes! After all, she let you have her memories. Do you know where she is?”

“Unfortunately, Harry, she died a few years ago. The reason for that were, in fact, these memories.” Dumbledore pointed to the remaining vials. “She came to me one year after your parents died.”

Confused, Harry leaned forward in his chair. “Why?”

The older man looked at him over his glasses, his eyes glittering, before looking back at the memory containing vials like it was the most obvious answer.

Harry bit his lower lip, nodding. “Right.”

“However, if you were actually asking about the specific time, then the answer is just as simple. Like some of Voldemort's other followers, she was cautious. Death Eaters were hunted and imprisoned, after all. They also didn’t know if he might come back to reclaim his power. So, she waited a year before she came to me.”

“And she gave you the memories just like that?”

Dumbledore shook his head before he hoisted himself up from his chair, his blackened hand shaking like a leaf in the wind being under so much pressure.

“Not back then, no. At first, she was suspicious of me, considering I could call the authorities the second she stepped on school grounds. Understandable, since she was just as much hunted by the Aurors as the rest of Voldemort’s followers, but I promised her no harm will come to her as long as I live.”

Harry shifted in his seat, a frown on his face. “Why would you do that, Professor? Why would you offer that to someone who was as close to Voldemort as she was? Why would you put someone under your protection who murdered and tortured innocents?”

“And how do you know she did all that, Harry?” Dumbledore asked and his eyes gleamed as he looked sharply at the boy.

Harry, feeling scolded, averted his eyes and merely shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what else to do.

So what if this girl wasn’t like the man who murdered his parents? How should he know? People who were involved with Voldemort were neither good nor innocent. You could have been very well a second Bellatrix.

Dumbledore, who had already taken the second vial and poured the memory into the Pensieve, nodded at his silence and smiled knowingly.

“Don’t view her as any enemy, but as an ally instead.” He said and Harry had to suppress a scoff. “Without her, we would know much less about Voldemort and how to go against him.”

Harry nodded reluctantly and got up from his chair to join Dumbledore again. He looked down at the swirling inky substance that slowly started to take shape and he could already recognize silhouettes of a fire-lit room.

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

🦌📺 More on RadioAppleStaticBand! 🐐🎸

NSFW THOUGHTS UNDER THE CUT.

SFW

Honestly just full and ripe with angst. I love angst; first it's Vox and Alastor's past then the jealousy that comes from seeing Vox with Valentino and Alastor with Lucifer. I don't think they would really calm down unless feelings are mentioned even when Adam enters the picture. For whatever reason even though Lucifer is the devil the other three are the three that struggle expressing their love. Good thing Lucifer is so determined.

Considering the relationships Lucifer could start with Vox to get things going. They haven't interacted from what we see in the series but Vox would literally be TOO excited to meet the big boss of hell though he'd be shocked to find Lucifer feeling anything for him in return.

I feel like Vox and Adam are the brats of the ship, like they always have something slick to say, always have an attitude at the worst times and Lucifer would start their punishments while Alastor would finish them. Brat taming at its finest.

There's this thing with pda where they will all invest in it but Lucifer or Vox would start it, gentle in their approach knowing just how their partners are and can be.

Hugs are big in this quadship but things like kisses, backrubs, massages and stuff would come later and even more intimate actions far later.

They probably have sessions where they sit in a circle and talk about what they and the other is and isn't okay with. Communication is a big thing to hold this ship together.

Things like morning coffee?? Vox is a bit of a puppy with these three? Always so eager to be around them and show off and I see Vox cooking the meals, taking into account what everyone does and doesn't eat so he could serve them correctly. He's probably the one setting dates too with the help of Lucifer with Adam and Alastor are willing to go with the flow.

They are honestly impossible to separate once they solve and talk about their issues and problems. That'll take time and effort but once they get there it's the most true and honest love. Like there's too many emotions to explain how all four of them managed to find each other.

Alastor would enjoy quieter dates like picnics or those boat rides that couples do? Adam is more for energy, take him to the amusement park or a concert or simply things like water fights, snowball fights, wrestling, etc could get him eager. Lucifer is honestly happy to do anything and everything, he's been alone for so long that he doesn't care what they do as long as they do it Buuut he does enjoy being in his home with them for the most part. Watching movies, cuddling, painting ducks, drink nights etc etc. Vox is confident that he does many things and almost like Lucifer he is the same way though maybe Vox is the guy to want to go out to dinner before coming home for cuddles unlike Lucifer who doesn't need to be outside prior to a cuddle session. Vox loves the aquarium too, things that make him think, his field trips with the other three can be a bit nerdy but in the cutest of ways to them.

They are slightly (not so slightly) scared of affection like... All of them but Vox and Lucifer are scared in a way were they don't want to accidentally overstep... To touch when the others don't want it and they are respectful but being able to touch those they care for is big to them. Adam and Alastor are scared in a way where they feel nervous about wasting effort and time. Like they trust their partners but it's more of a deep rooted issue than anything else.

It can and will be talked about and worked on. Interestingly enough Vox and Lucifer aren't affected by waiting for as long as they need to for their partners.

Alright alright let me move on before I ramble but I am very much so tempted to do so. 😮‍💨

NSFW

Ah, now I'm big on angst but right after that is my skills in smut so let me spitball some ideas at y'all.

Alastor's not versed in many things sexual prior to these though he and Vox had quite a few intimate moments before they fell out before Alastor's disappearance. Those times he loved so deeply that it scared him. I can see him being into cockwarming especially after these screenshots I posted recently. Like once he's in and he's all close and wrapped up how can he not take in their scent, or grip at their thighs and pull them closer, or trail his tongue over their skin? He likes the closeness when in their most vulnerable of states and it becomes less about the sex and more about the feeling of having someone to hold.

Vox is a bit keen on pleasing others even before he pleases himself, as much of a public figure this man is a menace behind closed doors. He'd definitely send a video to Alastor, Lucifer, and Adam of time experimenting with dildos and toys. All types too like call him the supplier or whatever lol. It's like he's always happy and eager to put on a show even though he knows he'll get handled when everyone finds him.

Lucifer gives BIG soft top vibes. Like he's soft until he's not and he'll give spankings, lashings, punishments of all sorts if he seems that the others really deserve them. Those types of punishments that feel so good that they hurt and I'm sure he wouldn't have trouble making Vox and Adam plead, Alastor can be a bit more stubborn but he can be tamed as well. Lucifer the dude to ask them little questions knowing the answers and when they reply he's immediately on them.

Adam is so shy when it comes to the more intimate stuff. It's not that he doesn't want to do it but that with his long history with heaven even neck kisses can make him hard beyond belief. Super sensitive?? Like don't touch bros wings... Or his horns... He'll jolt and jerk away in shock, big eyes and red cheeks like you just cupped his sack. He's so cute really, like he talks a big game but deep down all he needs is love and to be plowed until his head is spinning.

Kinks that come with these four are: cockwarming, spanking, collars and leashes, praise and degradation, marking, scenting, biting, grinding/dry humping, and others but those are the ones to come to mind first.

Like at this point everyone got they own collars for whenever the time is called for 😩😂

Hehe, imma stop here for now and see how y'all like this. If you want more follow me or wait for people to commission me or until I start the ao3 book!

[being-of-rain]

In the days before The Legend of Ruby Sunday, I thought to myself 'RTD did a lot of big bombastic series finales in his day, and always with Classic Who villains. But that was fifteen years ago. Maybe he's mellowed.' Dear readers, he had not.

Here's my thoughts on the episode! But fair warning, they're mostly that it was just okay. I mean it was fine. It was a fun, mindless bit of build-up and spectacle. Of course it was very much a Part One, so a lot of my thoughts are just 'I wonder where this will go next episode.'

Firstly, I don't think I'm a massive fan of RTD's method of story arcs, which is to sprinkle references to something throughout a season that'll be part of the final story without much elaboration. It feels less like a story, and more like a drawn-out teaser for the finale. And continuing a trend that started in RTD's last full season that I'm not crazy about, there was so many arcs and plot hooks too. Before the episode my brother and I listed as many we could think of, and it actually addressed almost all of them, plus one or two we forgot about or thought wouldn't come back. It started to feel like the characters were ticking off a shopping list of questions. And I know that these things basically just exist for fans to speculate about. And I can't pretend I didn't have fun joking and memeing about all the arc elements with other fans. But as someone who both isn't really that interested in genuinely theorising about how a series is going to end (odd for a Dr Who fan, I know) and who really likes story/character arcs that develop over time, I guess I'm just not the target audience. This season the arcs have pricked my curiosity, but not much more than that - except make me wish they did more with the supernatural elements than a few badly-conceived gods and the cool fairy circle episode.

Anyway, Sutekh! In the last few years the TV show has done the Morbius Doctors, Beep the Meep, the Toymaker, the Shalka Doctor... I really shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore, but I still sit in bemused shock when a finale revolves around Susan and Sutekh. And that is pretty fun. We had basically nothing of Sutekh this episode, so I'm very interested what the next episode will do with him.

I'm especially curious how much it'll dip into the Egyptian mythology aspect. Because on one hand, Pyramids of Mars is sorta built on the problematic and awkward trope that aliens at least inspired Egyptian culture. On the other hand, I think the Egypt link & aesthetic is a big part of Sutekh's identity as a villain/monster. I remember being bored when Big Finish tried to divorce him from it in their latest audio with him (but tbh I trust RTD to at least do a more entertaining story than that, even if he's boiling Sutekh down into simply a God of Death). Similarly, I think a really big part of why Sutekh made a big impact on the original Dr Who fandom is how he was a genuine overwhelming threat to the Doctor, something that probably won't be as big of a shock today. But the final part of Sutekh's identity is Gabriel Woolf, and he's absolutely as entertaining as ever.

As for Susan, after all that drama it'd almost be stranger if she didn't appear in some form in the finale. I'm wondering if Mrs Flood is Susan, something that's really weird to say seriously after thinking people were wrong about her being an important character for 6 months. At the very least I really hope they give Carole Ann Ford some kind of cameo, because it'd be such a missed opportunity if the very first companion actress was still alive and they didn't do anything with her.

What else? Mel continues to be lovely, and I continue to wonder if there's any reason it was her in particular who was brought back or if it was just to have a classic Who companion hanging around. Rose continues to be precious, and her instant bonding with Ruby is just adorable. I missed Ruth Madeley's Shirley, I assume it was filming conflicts that led to her being replaced by a preteen? When Harriet was introduced I distinctly remember thinking 'oh she's cute, I hope she sticks around.' And the Vlinx continues to have 1-2 lines and no explanation.

The VHS-powered time window was an extremely cool concept, but I feel like it didn't look as good and distinct as it could have. I'm not totally certain what I'd have done different but I still felt underwhelmed. And I'll say something I've said a lot, but I wish there was at least some vague rules to things like the time window. I don't care about scientific accuracy or real life logic, only narrative logic; if anything can happen with only a bit of poetry to justify it, the stakes and losses and victories aren't nearly as satisfying.

And this might make me sound like someone who looks for anything to complain about, but I feel there's something off about how UNIT is depicted recently. Like it's being glorified and simplified as 'the good guys' maybe more than it has any time before in the TV show's history. And it feels especially awkward when some of the UNIT characters are armed and armoured soldiers. I'm just very not in the mood to heroise someone who I might see committing war crimes on the news, you know. So I'm not really a fan of this version of UNIT and how it's consuming so many past companions.

Anyway!

Mystery Woman 1 (Susan): Sutekh. Mystery Woman 2 (Mrs Flood): Susan? Mystery Woman 3 (Ruby's mum): At this point I have to assume it's the Rani or Iris Wildthyme or Gillian Who or something.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

so REVENGE, HUH? or justice, if that makes you feel better. it tastes the same when cooked just right. 'I REALLY WANTED A BROTHER.' such a shame to burn a bridge you so desperately wanted to keep, especially when it wasnt even you who started the fire. especially when you hope that not a single fragment of that bridge ever washes ashore.[MAY IT ROT FAR FROM MY SIGHTS] an unfortunate loss! atleast he has his friends.

[shemustbolt]

the brothers sun is like here's our action dramedy about triads and power struggle then it hits you hard with the complex nature of familial relationships; like the eldest is bearing the weight of the family's legacy and is his father's greatest weapon, the youngest has been sheltered from the truth of their family's history and is his mother's greatest joy (and her greatest weakness), neither has ever been given a choice regarding their life path, they briefly resent what the other brother represents, they love each other to the point of willing to do anything to protect the other, they want the other to have a good life where they can finally choose for once and each are willing to make sacrifices to make that happen

[onewingedangels]

I finished ff7 rebirth

[pyrriax]

ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

[creativitwin]

i don’t know if anything will beat the feeling i had during april 2020. i was heavily hyperfixated on tss and especially the creativitwins, and then thomas dropped the roman playlist. to this day 3 years later i still think about it

second song on that playlist was wonderboy by tenacious d and i was immediately like ‘haha that sounds like that’s about remus. cool how they team up in the end’ but oh well, i didn’t think that much about it in that moment. the song can easily be about virgil too

i’m vibing to the rest of the songs and then humility by gorillaz comes on and. did the song straight up say twin??? bro that fucking song is about remus. that song is about remus there is no way around it.

i’m not smart enough to directly analyze the songs (plenty of people have already done so. here’s my favorite one) but all i can say is holy fuck yippie doodle this shit still makes me ballistic.

i mean in the series all roman seems to show is hate for remus!! looking at remus is like looking into a funhouse mirror, he’s literally his biggest insecurity, his biggest fear. and yet, (correct me if i’m wrong) i don’t even think there’s a song on there that even implies his hatred of remus. the playlist is all about how he wants to be free of his morality restrictions..

idek man. if the day comes in 2050 when the creativitwins reconcile i will be there in the first row.

oh and also. fun fact about the wonderboy song (and also the entire roman playlist)? thomas and joan purposefully made roman’s playlist into 5 sections: i want songs, character establishment, rising action, climax, and falling action. they didn’t specify how exactly these sections were split up* but that doesn’t even matter. wonderboy is the SECOND song in the playlist, meaning it’s definitely an I Want song. do with this information what you will

*ok if you want my opinion, theres 20 songs, and 5 sections. the math would show that each section would consist of 4 songs, and i think this definitely holds up with the vibes of the songs, too.

conclusion: ieirjrwndijekwfowhhdeh idk. roman and remus are the twins ever and the only main reason i still care about sanders sides after all this time.