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#i take anything this show gives me on Gender
melodiesinmotion-if · 14 hours
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Extra Content: The interview in which St. Skeleton tells their origin story and lets the world know they're not as picture perfect as their fans may think.
(Side note: because Star/Dallas' name changes based on their gender, they have been labeled as "SD" for the sake of leaving them neutral.)
“We’ve done, like, 100 fucking interviews this month,” Violet whines; her big, brown eyes searching the room for Valen, St. Skeleton’s manager. She’s a no-nonsense woman normally, but for reasons unknown, she has a soft spot for Violet. The lead singer knows this and loves using it to her advantage.
Across the room, Jagger loudly sighs and flips the page of his novel - some beat-up, pulp fiction paperback. He’s perched on an amp stack, curly black hair falling into his scowling face. Annoyance builds inside her as she glares at him.
“If you’re gonna talk shit, actually say something-,” she starts. A soft hand falls to her arm as Mikki shakes their head. They look desperate to stop the emerging fight quickly.
“V, please don’t,” they whisper. “Not today. We don’t need the bad press right now.”
They’re right, as usual. She nods and gives their hand a squeeze, a silent promise to try and be on her best behavior.
“Not after that shit you pulled last night,” Jett snickers. Her head snaps towards the guitar player. He’s leaning against the door frame casually, nursing a bottle of whisky.
Ryder laughs as he and Aspen continue editing last night’s concert photos. They’re off in the opposite corner, trying desperately to work with the makeshift table they’ve made from equipment cases. “I have some pictures here if you need me to jog your memory. Pretty good shit.”
“Oh, fuck you guys!” Violet attempts to pout, but can’t stop the smile from forming. She was pretty fucked up last night. Apparently, you’re not supposed to give tourists a strip tease while standing in a hotel fountain. Or in public, for that matter. But you know what? She gave those tourists the show of their lives for free. They should be thanking her.
“’Sides, Valen’s in a meeting. Looks like you’re gonna have to do the interview today, princess.” Jett drawls, taking another sip of whisky.
SD, who’s hanging halfway off the recliner by Violet, flicking a pink lighter on and off, perks up. “Oh! Since Valen’s gone, does that make me honorary band manager?”
“No,” the room says in unison.
Before anyone can do anything else, the room’s side door swings open. A petite, woman in a black dress and high heels struts in; her press pass swinging slightly as she moves.
Trinity James, a reporter for Sonic Pulse.
No one misses the way Jett straightens - signature smirk crawling up his lip. “Well, hi, darlin’.”
“Hm,” she deadpans, pulling a chair to the middle of the room. “Come on, I have a flight to catch after this.”
Those at the edge of the room scurry towards the couch where Mikki and Violet sit. Jett takes a seat on the armchair of the recliner, moving SD’s legs into his lap. Aspen hovers beside the couch, Jagger takes the empty spot beside Violet, and Ryder drops to the floor. He doesn’t need to be here, but why pass up the opportunity to listen?
She pulls a recorder and notepad from her bag and sets them up quickly, obviously ready to be finished with this interview.
“What’s her problem?” Violet hisses towards Jett. He laughs as his hands form devil horns behind his head. Mikki glares and swats towards him. Either unaware of or unbothered by the interaction Trinity hits record and the interview begins.
“Who the hell are you?” she asks, eyes flicking between Ryder and SD; the two shift uncomfortably where they’re seated, unsure if they should answer any questions.
“They’re my assistant,” Violet points to SD before pointing to Ryder, “and he’s our photographer. They’re just here to observe.” Beside her Mikki smiles, visibly proud of her for taking charge, and being respectful.
Trinity nods but seems to brush Violet off. “You two can talk, you know? People are so nosy. They love feeling like they’re getting an inside look from someone other than the band members. Feel free to jump in whenever.”
The two turn towards Violet, who shrugs her shoulders.
“Great, it’s settled.” Trinity scans everyone before explaining how things will work. “I’ll start with basics questions then we’ll jump into the nitty gritty of it all. Feel free to answer any question unless it’s addressed to one person. Got it?”
Without waiting for an answer, she continues. One month later the interview is published in what becomes the highest selling issue of the decade.
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Sonic Pulse, Issue 244, October 20xx.
Getting to Know St. Skeleton.
Trinity: “Let’s go down the line. Introduce yourselves to readers who may not know you. That includes you two extra special guests.” Violet: “I’m Violet Graves, but everyone calls me V. I’m the lead singer of St. Skeleton.” Jagger: “I’m Jagger Golding. I play bass in St. Skeleton.” Mikki: “Hi, I’m Mikki Riot. I’m the drummer for St. Skeleton.” Jett: “Jett Stryker. I play guitar for St. Skeleton.” Aspen: “I’m Aspen Blitz. I play rhythm guitar for St. Skeleton.” Star/Dallas: “Uh, I’m SD. I’m Violet’s assistant.” Ryder: “I’m Ryder Reyes, private photographer for St. Skeleton.”
TJ: “And how’d you get into that, Ryder? Being the photographer, I mean.” RR: “Oh, um, well I’ve known the band since they formed and I’m shit at anything musical, but my pictures don’t suck so…here I am.”
TJ: “Tell me about how the band formed. It was in a bar, right? Very rock and roll.” JS: “OH! Let me tell you! So here’s how it went down. Jagger, Mikki, and me were at this bar in our hometown-” JG: “The Velvet Alehouse. Cool place.” RR: “Love that place. Aspen and I used to go a lot.” AB: “I want to go back!” VG: “That place fucking raised me. I had my first bathroom hook up there.” MR: “Oh, god. With that one blue-haired fucker. They were so douchy.” SD: “Not me, if that’s what you’re thinking! V and I have known each other forever. She could never get me anyway.” VG: “Right…” JS: “ANY WAY. As I was saying. Jagger, Mikki, and me were at The Velvet Alehouse and this girl gets on stage and starts singing for open mic night. Holy fuck, she totally bombed it. I’m talking ‘cats fighting in an alley’ bombed it.” VG: “Okay, first of all, fuck you. Second of all, it wasn’t that bad.” AB: “Oh, V.” JG: “It was pretty bad, dude.” JS: “The worst!” VG: “I was fucking nervous, you assholes!” JS: “Doesn’t change the fact that it sucked. So after V gets up there and bombs it-“ AB: “And gets booed off the stage.” SD: “Holy shit that was brutal.” JS: “Holy shit, she did get booed off the stage. I totally forgot about that. So she runs off the stage and all her friends are just fucking standing there speechless. They’ve got their cameras out and this sash that says it’s her birthday. So we’re all instantly feeling so fucking bad for this girl who just embarrassed herself on her birthday. So I march outside, where she’s puking her fucking guts out might I add, and I-” VG: “You know what he fucking does? He laughs! He just fucking laughs. I’m having the worst day of my life and this asshole just stands there and laughs.” JG: “You should have seen her face. I thought she was going to kill him.” VG: “I should have, our lives would be easier now.” JS: “Love you too, V.” JG: “While my dick-head of a brother just stands there, drunk as shit, laughing at her, I try to let her know it wasn’t that bad-” MR: “You’re a fucking angel, Jagger.” JS: “I bet I can name a few people who think otherwise.” JG: “Oh, fuck you.” JS: “Careful, man.” VG: “Relax.”
TJ: “Please, continue, Jett.” JS: “So. I let V know that we want to buy her a drink for her birthday.” SD: “You think the performance was bad? Wait until you hear the next part.” JS: “We all head back inside to meet up with her friends and you know, fuck around some, and we can’t find them. We just see SD sitting at the table alone.” SD: “All her other friends left. They just up and left, didn’t say shit to me. Took all her birthday presents too.” VG: “And that’s not even the worst birthday I’ve ever had.” MR: “To make a very long story short, we ended up meeting Aspen and Ryder that night while we were all drinking, and everyone just hit it off. Later we took off to another bar, got fucked up, and the rest was history.” JS: “We realized V actually could sing when her nerves weren’t interfering and knew we needed to jam together. St. Skeleton was born not long after.”
TJ: “And how long ago was that?” VG: “Ah, it’s gotta be 5 years ago at this point.”
TJ: “Let’s talk about St. Skeleton currently. You released your second album ‘Born To Be’ nine months ago. Your lead single ‘To the Grave’ skyrocketed your group into stardom.” MR: “This was something we didn’t think would happen so early in our career, but it’s been amazing. We’re doing so many things that we’ve all always dreamed of.”
TJ: “I can’t help but notice you seem to disagree, Jagger. Not into the fame thing?” JG: “What? Uh, I mean, it’s fine. Overwhelming I guess.” TJ: “You’re one of the biggest groups on the planet and…it’s fine?” JG: “That’s what I said, yeah.” JS: “Forgive my brother, he’s an asshole.” JG: “What is your fucking problem today, dude?” VG: “Can you two relax? What the fuck?”
TJ: “It’s a bit weird for bands this young to be fighting so much.” JG & JS: “We’re not fighting!” VG: “They’re fine. It’s a twin thing, you know? They fight I guess.” TJ: “Sure. You know what? I think I have what I need.”
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variousqueerthings · 8 months
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beautiful
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kiraman · 6 months
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are people aware of the fact that Mizu is not canonically in any way shape or form.............. queer....bi.....
(quick note here because reading comprehension stays dead and people may not read the tag novel: I want bi Mizu! I hc her as sapphic! I love sapphic Mizu)
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aroacedavestrider · 2 years
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jump off a cliff
hi Roxy Trans Woman Anon. unfortunately i live in ohio and as such its flat as fuck here so if you really truly want me to do that then you gotta buy me a plane ticket to somewhere with mountains. if you dont have the cash then get to finding it girlboss !! that coin wont bag itself !!! xoxo
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mycological-mariner · 2 years
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He didn’t die!!
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keithbutgay · 5 months
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So I don't know if anyone has been keeping up on this case, but I tried looking for posts on it and I've only found transphobic rants and comments. So just... spreading awareness.
There is an ongoing case in Australia currently (the hearing has concluded but the ruling has not been announced) where Roxy Tickle, a trans woman, is suing the Giggle for Girls app and its founder for $100,000, plus another $100,000. Giggle for Girls is a platform exclusively for women, and Roxy was banned from the app after joining.
The app already has a lot of problematic features on it. For example, any new user is required to submit a selfie-- a photo which is then analyzed by ai to determine whether or not the user is a woman. For Roxy, the ai wasn't the issue, however-- in fact, she used the app for several months with no problem. Instead, the owner of the app manually and purposefully overrode the ai, revoking Roxy's access to the app, because she saw her profile. She then refused to reinstate her account and blocked her.
The founder of the app, Sall Grover, has knowingly and persistently misgendered Roxy dozens of times in interviews, articles and posts. I have a chrome extension that shows if a website is queerphobic or not, and when I look up Roxy's name there are only two results not in red.
As well as this, the additional $100,000 dollars Roxy is suing for? That's because of an online campaign waged against her by Grover, who has a large platform on Twitter. Katherine Deves, who had been representing Giggle in court tried to get the case thrown out. And Grover quite literally called in evolutionary biologist Colin Wright to advocate for her case. He's giving evidence for the trial.
There is a fundraiser to "reclaim sex based rights and protections for all women and girls" created specifically for this case. It has raised over $500,000, and that number is still growing.
Anyways. I don't know if I was just the last one to know about this, but the fact that I even found out about this case was because of a post a terf made scares me.
If anyone else has any more information, please add onto this post! And if I missed anything, or said anything wrong, please correct me.
Thank you for taking this time out of your day.
If you want to read more about the case, I would check out these articles:
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ozzgin · 2 months
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What if the Yandere school has some sort of event where they interact with students of the darling school and just like how our reader is a darling in the Yandere school they find a student of the darling school is a Yandere
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You're an oblivious Darling going to Yandere School, and now you're paired up with...a Yandere hiding among Darlings. The absurdity goes on. Content: gender neutral reader, yandere horde, parody
[Yandere School] | [Yandere School 2] | [More Yandere]
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He could immediately tell. You were a sheep among the wolves, and he was a wolf in sheep's clothing. He followed your movements with a predatory gaze, planning his approach.
He'd applied to Darling Academy out of sheer greed, hoping to find his soulmate. He searched, and stalked, and hounded, all in vain. Hell, he even had to repeat a year; it took him an ungodly amount of willpower to pass the damn kidnapping course.
"You're not surprised to discover your captor", the teacher had shouted, exasperated. "Unless you show me genuine shock, I cannot give you a passing grade"
"You can see her from a damn mile", he argued angrily, pointing at his darling classmate. She was supposed to simulate an attack, and he was to play the role of a clueless, helpless victim. Ridiculous.
Who would've thought his one and only was hiding in a Yandere School, of all places? So unforeseen, so unexpected, that he could not believe it to be anything but a fateful encounter. He glanced one final time at the enormous banner hanging against the school building:
"Annual Study Partnership Event: Yandere School x Darling Academy"
"You must be (Y/N). We've been paired together for the week. I'm in your care!", he beams cheerfully.
Despite his annoyance with Darling Academy, it proved to be somewhat useful in the end. Not only did it guide him to you, but it also polished his acting skills to near perfection. The teacher's office was guarded viciously given the previous attempts of the yandere students to cheat the system and have you on their team. Who would ever suspect a Darling? He simply waltzed in, scribbled his name on the event sheet, and left.
"I wouldn't be too excited", you confess, a little dejected. "I'm not...uh...the best yandere out there."
He pretends to sneeze, hiding the grin spreading across his face. Sweet, innocent thing that you are. Oh, don't worry your pretty head. He'll take care of everything.
The annual event consists of a week-long competition. A yandere student is paired with a darling counterpart, and the teams compete against each other for various activities. It's a learning experience for everyone involved, meant to hone the skills of a yandere and prepare the darlings for their future encounters.
First activity: tying up your darling.
Your eyes light up. For once, it's something you're good at. You hurry back to your partner, carrying the box filled with bondage rope, and nod towards the young man.
"Leave this to me", you state solemnly.
The timer starts, and you begin tying the knots. The yandere observes your process, completely infatuated. Your focused expression is downright adorable. Now, he could let you have your moment of victory. On the other hand...can he really waste this chance?
His fingers discreetly mess with some of the rope lying around. A little nudge here, another loop here. You're too absorbed in your work to notice anything.
You hear the bell and huff, exhausted. You wipe your forehead. This is it, the final touch. You hold onto the rope, and pull with all your strength. Suddenly you're dragged forward by an unseen force, and your face slams into your teammate's broad chest. You've tied the two of you together, somehow.
The other yanderes watch the display with a grimace.
(Y/N) is good with rope. This shouldn't have happened, they all think in unison. They glare at the darling pressed against you. Something isn't right. Is that man truly a darling? He feels more like a fellow rival.
"I'm so sorry", you sniff, humiliated.
He strokes your hair affectionately, reassuring you. It happens. The rope must've been faulty. You did your best.
He feels a cold shiver and tilts his head towards the bystanders, then smiles. It seems he isn't the only one who has fallen for you. Though he didn't expect it to be the whole school. Alas, what's life without a little competition?
"Come on, (Y/N). Let's get ready for the next part. I have a feeling we'll win this one", he says, winking at you playfully.
This must be the best week of his life.
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lazi4ss · 6 months
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That's Not My Milkman
masterlist
Warning: slight gore but not that detailed, doppleganger Francis
Gender neutral reader
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(NOT MY ART, I FORGOT WHOS TIKTOK THIS IS FROM BUT CREDITS TO YOU!)
"So... Is everything in check?"
A tired voice mumbled out as your eyes trailed up from the ID and entry request in your hands to the source of the sound. Tired hazel eyes stared back at you as Francis rubbed the back of his neck.
You felt bad, here you were double and triple-checking everything while the exhausted and probably underpaid milkman was there standing and waiting to be let in. But it's for everyone's safety so don't feel too bad. You gave a small smile as you handed back his paperworks. Everything seems to check out and you were going to let him in but... what's that on his uniform sleeve?
You squinted your eyes as you scanned the cuff of his right sleeve. His gaze travelled to where you were looking and with a shrug of his shoulders he lifted his hand to give you a clear view. And it is in fact blood, and by the looks of it, quite fresh too. How come you didn't notice it before?
You raised an eyebrow, one hand slowly inching closer to the danger button as you tried to be subtle and casual about it. Because what the heck? He was confident enough to show you something so suspicious without batting an eye.
"Sooo... Uhm. Anything you want to share?"
You casually asked, yet nervousness was laced in your tone. He sighed, keeping his composed and nonchalant act as put his hand down, burying it in his pocket as he dragged his free hand on his face. If he's a doppelganger then he's really going the extra mile to act or seem believable.
"Mmm. I know you're on edge."
He mumbled, gaze traveling from your hand that was ready to press the danger button to your face. Staring a little too long as he examined your features. You got a very pretty face yet it was filled with mistrust. Shame. Catching himself, he quietly scoffed under his breath. Good job Francis, already had the doorperson suspicious of you.
"But this is not what it looks like. I injured my hand earlier with a broken glass, blood must've gotten on my uniform accidentally."
He finished, not breaking the staring contest you two have started. You don't quite seem to believe that story, but it was plausible. There was a tense silence for a while before you broke it.
"Show me your wound."
You requested and again, another tense silence. He didn't look like he was going to comply. Just you and him staring down at each other. No one backing down and tearing their eyes away.
"... Fuck."
He quietly hissed and that was enough confirmation for you. You pressed the button immediately, grabbing the phone as you dialed the D.D.D. A familiar voice on the other end confirms and tells you that agents are on their way.
You sighed in relief, although that didn't last long as you heard banging on the glass pane separating you and the doppelganger. Thank God those were strong enough to withhold the assaults. You should've been shaking in your seat right now, and you were albeit not so intense, but it was the first time you came across the quiet and aloof milkman's doppel.
Hell, it was the first time you even saw Francis up front, not just out of the picture in the folder provided for your job. Out of curiosity, you raised the metal shutters to take a peek at it. And what greeted you was a snarling, red-eyed Francis. His features twisted in rage as he banged on the glass repeatedly.
"Let me in, Y/n!"
He growled, to which you shut the metal blinds again on his face in response as you heard the agents barge in. You thought it would be like last time, after a while they would let you know that the cleanup was successful and that they would be on their way back. Easy peasy, right? Oh how wrong you were. Turns out, this one was putting up quite a fight.
You could hear shouting, a lot of screaming, and the sound of something sharp slashing at flesh. Wet sounds of people gurgling in what you presumed to be their own blood... That was disturbing. You were almost too scared to pull up the shutters to see what was going on. But suddenly the noises stopped. Did they catch him? Was it finally over?
With shaking hands, you pressed the danger button off. The blinds slowly ascended and holy shit, the sight was like something out of a nightmare. It was straight up a blood bath. The agents' bodies were piled on the right side. Some missing their heads, missing their upper or lower half, and others' stomachs were ripped out and just generally shredded and torn. But that wasn't what you saw first.
It was Francis, or well, his doppelganger, with blood splattered on his clothes and a little getting on his cheek. His forearm was resting on the glass as he leaned. His mouth opened and formed a smirk as he panted, breathing heavily while glaring at you. His left hand fiddled with the blood-drenched tie on his neck.
If he wasn't a murderous doppelganger, you would've swooned. But alas, you can't have nice things in life. You blinked at him before pressing the button again,
"Wait- damn it!"
He called out but the windows were closed off again as you dialed the number quickly. Yet again, the same old thing was said, another batch of agents were dispatched. You waited, fidgeting in your seat as you heard him call out to you.
"Come on... I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to frighten you. Can you open the door?"
He tried to coax you with that voice... That smooth and deep voice that sounded so tired, on the verge of begging you... Wait what-
You shook your head, patting your cheeks lightly because what the hell was that? Such intrusive thoughts are not welcome while your life's in danger!
More screaming and shouting was heard as the agents arrived and you could tell they were much more prepared than the last batch. Gunshots can be heard but another animalistic growl pulled you out of your thoughts. Everything went silent again. You stay rooted on your spot as the only thing that can be heard in the air is your quivering gasps and heavy breathing on the other side of the glass panel.
Is he still there? You thought as you turned off the danger button again. More bodies were piled up on the left corner and surprise surprise, he was still alive, albeit in a rougher shape than previously. He wasn't wearing his milkman hat anymore, letting his brown messy hair show. His uniform was missing three buttons at the top, slightly showing his chest, bowtie was nowhere to be found.
He was still drenched in blood but what stunned you was what he was doing. His form raised and dropped as he inhaled and exhaled heavily, tired hazel eyes staring back at you as his eyebrows scrunched up. His hands pressed together in a pleading manner. Is he actually begging?
"Y/n, let me in... Please?"
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felixbit · 26 days
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up all night
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pairing: bang chan x gn!reader w. 3.9k genre: shameless smut summary: chan is in the studio working late, stressed about a deadline and pushed to his limit. you convince him to take his mind off work. warnings: reader has somewhat implied afab anatomy but no gendered terms/pronouns are used. petnames used: baby, love, honey a/n: making my smut debut with chan! written for the best person ever
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As of late, Chan has been in the studio far more often than you'd like.
You knew he was a workaholic when you got into the relationship. He cared about his career, music, and group so much he'd push himself to the brink. He wrote, composed, and produced all of his own music and wouldn't have it any other way. If he wanted success, he needed to make it himself.
It came at a cost, though. You saw the way his mental health would deteriorate around the time of deadlines. He'd spend almost entire days in the studio, perfecting every last word and beat. You watched as he shaped this music from his hands, sculpting them to smooth out every edge and imperfection.
Even Chan was far too aware how bad it was for himself. You'd try to find ways for him to take breaks, always bringing him food and water to keep him going. He'd thank you in a million ways, with words and fond touches but it ended in him going back to work.
When he finally was home, he returned to the kind and gentle boyfriend you knew him to be. Holding you as you fell asleep and buying your order at the local coffee shop before you woke up. He'd make you breakfast in bed when he had the time, writing love notes whenever he had to leave before you woke up.
As it always happened, a new deadline was approaching. Chan often slipped out after schedules to the studio and worked himself down to the bone. You tried your hardest to spend as much time in there with him, even if it was just laying on the couch scrolling your feed. Every little thing helped.
That night, you'd ordered him some takeout but it was eaten long ago. The time on your phone showed it was half past three in the morning and Chan was at it in earnest. Headphones on, replaying samples and tweaking sounds.
You looked over from your phone when you heard him swear under his breath and take his headphones off. Chan let out a long sigh and covered his face with his hands for a moment before looking back down at his work.
"It- it just won't sound like I need it to. It's not right, it's.." Chan rambled into the air.
You got up from the couch and walked behind his chair, putting your hands on his broad shoulders and massaging them with your fingers. "I know, Channie. Is there anything I can do to help you right now?"
"No, I'm sorry," Chan let out a long sigh and smiled up at you weakly, "You being here is enough."
You felt a stirring in your stomach at the sentiment, but you wouldn't give up that easily. "I can't just let you suffer alone here. Do you want to take a break or wrap up for the night?"
"I won't remember how I want it tomorrow. If I give up on this now, there's a chance I never fix it and it goes out sounding wrong. I can't do that."
"Chris," You stopped massaging his shoulders to turn his chair around, looking down at him, "I know you want it perfect. Write it down on a sticky note what you want and take a break. It's gonna be four soon and I'm not letting you spend another all nighter here."
Chan looked up at you curiously before deflating back in his chair. "I mean- are you sure? If I forget, it's gonna be noticeable, and-"
"I'll remind you. I'll put it in my phone and tell you exactly what you need to fix. Here, tell me what it is and I'll write it down. Got it?"
Chan paused for a moment before nodding, allowing you to open your phone before speaking. He gave you the exact timestamps of the song and the strange producer jargon that you couldn't quite make sense of. You wrote it down word-for-word just as he needed it.
"There, it's in here for you later," You recited it back to him and he gave a confirmatory nod, "You're all set for tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? I can't be done for the night, there's too much to work on and not enough time. I'm sorry, just another hour. Please?"
You shook your head and set your phone down on the table before sliding into his lap, straddling him in the chair. "You're not working another second on those songs tonight, Chris."
Chan looked up at you a little stunned before a sly smirk crossed his face. "Baby, you know that's not fair to me. I need to work and you're doing something dangerously distracting."
"What are you going to do, then?" You replied back, unable to hold back a grin, "You gonna remove me from your lap to do some boring work instead?"
You could see Chan chew on the inside of his cheek before sighing. "It's not boring, and I really should get back to it.."
"Then you're going to have to remove me yourself, because I'm not moving."
Chan let out a dramatic sigh before his hands moved up the outside of your thighs, resting right next to your hips. "You know damn well I'm not going to do that."
"And why's that, Channie?"
His hands moved over your thighs, giving a light squeeze. "God, you're driving me insane. Coming into the studio every night and making yourself useful at every opportunity.. I wanted so bad to stop just to make you feel good. You deserve that, instead of me working the whole day."
"Your opportunity has finally come, I'm all yours if you want me right now."
Chan chuckled, "You could ask me that a thousand times and I could never say no."
You leaned in to his ear and whispered, "Then make your move."
There was a moment of silence before Chan pulled you in for a kiss, messy and rushed. His hands were all over your thighs, waist, back. He couldn't pick a spot and stick to it, deciding instead everywhere needed to be felt over.
You tried to keep things centered, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. One of your hands played with the curls growing on the back of his head, enjoying the soft feeling through your fingers. It was the only thing keeping you sane.
His hands finally found a place to reside when he hooked them on the hem of your pants, giving light tugs as you felt him squirming under you. Pulling away from the kiss with a grin, you looked down at Chan and his flushed appearance. "So eager.."
"Can you blame me? Now stand up and help me get those off," Chan demanded with a rushed voice, helping get you to your feet as he followed in your footsteps. His usually deft hands were fumbling as he desperately pulled your pants off of you and discarded them to the floor.
Watching him undo his own sweatpants like a madman had you giggling at the sight. "You go one week without any action, and this is how desperate you get?"
"I'm a starved man, honey," Chan's face was red and already had sweat on his brow, "I can't wait any longer, not after all that teasing."
"Teasing? What-"
"Get on the damn couch."
That much was enough to have you laying down on the couch without hesitating. His sweatpants joined yours on the floor, showing off the black boxers he was sporting underneath. A quick glance showed he was pitching an obvious tent.
Although as quick as you were, Chan caught you looking. He raised his brows and laughed, "And I'm the eager one here?"
"You are the eager one here, hardly put your hands on me and you're giving those boxers a run for their money," You responded with your own laugh.
"You little.." Chan shook his head and leaned over you, putting his weight on one forearm on the couch as he kissed you once more. Instead of the fast and desperate pace he had set before, Chan was far slower and delicate. It was almost infuriatingly slow.
You couldn't show how much you wanted him to go faster, that would only prove his point. Instead, he was slowly breaking you down by the second, one arm stabilizing himself and the other hand on your neck, softly stroking your jaw with his thumb.
The waiting game paid off when Chan suddenly took your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a small tug before he pulled away. "I can't keep this up. You win. Damn you, I'm eager."
There wasn't time for any words to respond before Chan was back where he was before, sloppy and fast. He kissed down your neck, excessive in his biting and sucking at the sensitive skin. Not expecting it, a sound broke its way out of you.
You did your best not to give in to the rest of his harsh and aggressive kisses down your neck. After a week of downtime, he was making up for it in marking your neck as his own. Nobody was going to know who the perpetrator of the hickeys were later (other than the upset staff), but it was the idea that mattered.
There were bigger problems actively stealing your attention. Namely, the small amount of friction made with him moving ever-so-slightly between your legs. It was easy to ignore at first, but the neck kisses were causing the pleasure parts of your brain to kick into high gear.
With one harsher movement than the rest, you were unable to bite back a small, unfiltered sound that escaped you. Chan broke contact with your red and bruising skin to look up with a grin on his face.
"What was that, love?" Chan's tone was starkly different than before, far more teasing and with a dark edge to his voice that you only recognized coming out in bed.
Attempts to take his attention off of it failed and you were forced to fess up in the moment. "You have to stop moving like that, it's driving me crazy."
"Moving like what?" Chan shifted his legs, slotting his thigh directly between yours and pressing firmly against you. This elicited a frustrated sigh, the feeling too strong to push away.
Upon no immediate response, Chan pushed his thigh forward and forced a fuller, more in-tact moan out of you. "Fine, fine- that. Putting your thigh between my legs. That's the thing that's driving me crazy."
"There you go," Chan's words were sickly doting in a way that made you break at the seams, "What do you want instead?"
With his thigh slotted firmly between your own, finding coherent strings of words was difficult. "Just.. get this underwear off me and use your fingers instead."
Chan smiled, clearly pleased with your answer. He moved his leg out from between yours, relieving the pressure and allowing you to breathe. He sat back on his legs as he removed the last layer of clothing from below your waist, tossing it to the growing pile on the floor.
He nudged himself closer, Chan's hand finding its way to where his thigh was once situated before. His middle finger teased you with a circular motion around your entrance, so close to where you needed it most.
"Chan." You demanded, shooting him a glare.
"Okay, okay. Just admiring how worked up I've got you," Chan smirked before his finger pushed inside, slowly filling you up and drawing out a long sigh. He worked slowly yet decisively, knowing exactly how you like it.
That was one of the things you loved about Chan: he knew your body like the back of his hand. Where you were most sensitive, what drove you wild, how rough you liked him to get. He could push your buttons perfectly, string you up in his words until you were tied up into a nice present for him.
Before you could process the first, Chan had already added a second finger and was growing more confident. He worked his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm, not slow enough to leave you wanting more nor fast enough to want to slow down.
"That good, baby?" Chan's eyes met yours, and you saw a different side of him for a moment. The way he sought your approval and made sure everything was right had your heart melting. He had confidence in his abilities, but occasionally needed reassurance.
You nodded eagerly, on the cusp of desperation. "It's good, Channie, you're doing so good," You said between soft moans as his fingers pumped deep, feeling him tease a third and giving him a nod.
The third was always a stretch that had you biting back whines in conjunction to moans, but the feeling was too good to beat. The feeling of being full, on his fingers or otherwise, was what drove you wild.
He kissed you once more, slow and tender as his fingers continued to work. It was hard to keep properly connected, devolving into moaning against his lips with small kisses in between.
"Chris," You said, "Can't wait any longer. Need to have you inside, baby."
Instead of his usual entourage of teasing questions, Chan nodded. He made quick work of his boxers, tossing them haphazardly towards the pile as he moved back to you. He was painfully hard, already leaky and worked up.
"Can I?" He looked down for your reassurance, which came with a nod as he lined himself up. His hips moved forward slowly, feeling him filling you up more by the second. It always took a second to adjust to the size, catching your breath as he bottomed out and waited for your signal.
When you gave him the go-ahead, Chan couldn't help but begin a slow and steady pace. He knew better than to go fast right off the bat- he was a lot to handle. But you could hear him whining softly over top of you and knew he was desperate.
Looking up at him, you cupped his face and pulled him in for a quick kiss. "You can go faster, Chris. You won't hurt me."
You heard Chan let out a breathy laugh before his thrusts grew harsher. Instead of the slow, fluid motion of before; he was faster, precise. Every movement had purpose, each angled just right and hitting the sweet spot.
The sudden adjustment had you whining and letting out louder moans, unable to properly cope. It was overwhelming how good he was at it. All you could do was wrap your hands around the back of his shirt and claw at it helplessly as he had his way.
The fabric getting in the way of your fingers on his skin was beginning to frustrate you. "Off," You managed to get out, "Shirt- off."
Chan grinned, sitting up for a moment and slowing down to a snail's pace to pull his black t-shirt over his head and discard it. You reached up, dragging a hand down his chest and over his abs. Every muscle was yours to touch, to claim.
"You like what you see?" Chan said with a laugh.
Deadpanning, you shook your head. "Shut up."
In a second, he was back over top of you and his pace was back with a new force he didn't have before. It was often he was without clothes, but you weren't under the impression a shirt would be the thing holding him back. Either way, you relished in the fact his back was open to you.
Your nails dug in to his tanned skin, dragging along as he fucked into you steadily. You could hear him sucking air in between his teeth followed by his soft moans. He was always one to endure a little pain.
An idea popped into your head when you thought of before, sitting in the chair in his lap. "Chris, stop for a sec." He immediately halted all movements, looking down at you to make sure everything was alright. "Sit normally, facing the booth."
Chan looked at you perplexed for a moment, but pulled away. He did exactly as you told him to, sitting with his legs spread facing the booth he was just sitting in front of not twenty minutes ago. "What are you planning?" He asked.
You sat up and climbed over to him, straddling his waist with your legs and feeling him hard underneath you. "What I wanted to do to you when I was in your lap earlier."
The realization slowly filled his eyes and a knowing smile returned to his face as he sat back, leaning against the black couch cushion behind him. "Go right ahead."
"If you make me do all the work, we're going to have problems," You glared at him as your hand guided his cock, slowly sinking down on it with a sigh.
Chan's large hands wrapped around your waist, slowly guiding you as you moved up and down. Riding wasn't always the easiest job, and it definitely took some getting used to at the start. Your thighs were slowly building up muscle from the practice.
"God, you're so pretty like that," Chan's voice pulled you from your thoughts, looking down at him to see him smiling up at you. His face was pink and he almost had stars in his eyes.
Seeing just how infatuated he was made your heart race and your face flush, almost forgetting to continue to move. "You're pretty, too."
Your hands were situated on his shoulders to keep steady, but one dragged down and you couldn't resist feeling up his chest a bit. Chan looked up at you smirking again. "Do you ever keep your hands off those?"
Snickering, you pushed down a little harder to see him whine and catch his breath before you responded, "If you're going to keep your clothes off all the time, I'm going to feel up the assets you work so hard on."
"Why do you insist on teasing me all the time? You know what happens when you do that," Chan had a dark look in his eyes that you knew far too well.
Shrugging, you moved your hand up to run through his hair. "Did you ever consider I might like what happens when I tease you?"
"So be it."
Without hesitation, you felt Chan's grip around your waist suddenly tighten. You leaned forward instinctively, both of your hands secured around his shoulders.
He began to thrust up into erratically, fast and without caution or precision. The sound of your skin connecting was obscene, thanking the amount of soundproofing around you as a chorus of moans spilled out of you. Every movement had him deep inside you as you attempted to roll your hips along with him.
"Fuck, Chris," You whined, his pace unrelenting and seeming like he wasn't going to let up any time soon, "Close."
There was a distinctive feeling growing, one you knew too well. The amount of pleasure from every movement was rapidly growing as your body was being overwhelmed. Chan heard you, but didn't stop for a moment. It was almost if it was a sign for him to fuck you faster.
Either way, you were tipping over the edge before you had time to process it, spasming around him as you let you a whorish moan. He slowed down, letting you ride out the high. "That's it, baby," He coaxed, "You got it."
Just as you settled down, you felt him start to work himself into a moderate pace again. Your legs felt shot from your energy levels dipping so you asked, "Do you want to me to move, baby? I don't think I have much in me to keep going right here."
"If it's not comfortable to be right there, of course we can move," Chan said with a smile as he allowed you to reposition to pretty much the same spot you were in before. You laid on your back, Chan coming back over top of you. "That better?"
"Much better," You said with a nod as he went back to the pace he had set before. It wasn't as rough as before your orgasm, but steady enough to keep you whining and your brain somewhat fogged up from the constant pleasure.
Meanwhile, you could see Chan was already getting worked up. His face was redder than usual, his eyes trained on one spot, breathing hard as he kept the effort going to thrust his hips in one continuous pace.
His deep groans and whines had begun to turn into full-fledged moans and swears under his breath. His hands eagerly gripped and kneaded at your waist, seeming like he might accidentally bruise the skin. You were about to open your mouth when he said something.
"Honey, I-" Chan was cut off by his own faltered moan, "I'm close, so fucking close."
You pulled him down to kiss him briefly, keeping his face inches from yours as he continued to erratically thrust. "You don't have to wait, cum for me."
Chan nodded vigorously, his hips snapping back and forth at a speed that had you holding onto the couch for dear life, hearing him let out strained moans and teary-eyed cries as he climbed closer and closer to the top.
All of the sudden, he pushed deep inside you, letting out a gasp and a whine as you felt him come deep inside. His hips stuttered as he slowly rocked them, riding out the high. "Oh my god, that.. that was amazing."
Allowing him a moment to catch his breath, you smiled up at him and gave him another quick kiss. "I've missed you, Chris. I've missed this," You admitted after another silent pause.
Chan nodded, pressing his forehead against yours and sighed. He had finally mellowed out, still buried deep. "I've missed you, too. I'm sorry I haven't been able to do this with you and.. be a good boyfriend."
"No, you're okay. I know how much work matters to you and getting things right means that you see that success you've always wanted. I just always miss you in the times you're working, even if I'm in the same room as you."
"I just feel bad when you're here til way too late at night. Speaking of, what time is it?" Chan slowly pulled out, leaving his mess inside you as he quickly grabbed his phone from the floor, "Oh my god. It's half past four."
Your jaw dropped, standing up quickly as Chan hurried around the room to find something to help you clean up. He settled for his own black t-shirt, telling you he'd just go home shirtless if he had to. Of course it looked terribly stained when you had wiped yourself down, sighing while knowing it probably cost a crazy amount.
Digging through a closet, you found one of Chan's old jacket. Chan was standing shirtless and pacing with the rest of his own clothes on, the defiled shirt balled up in his hand.
"Channie, guess what I found?" You asked with a grin, hiding the jacket behind your back.
Chan looked at you with a nervous smile. "Is it something good? I'm just not super stoked to walk home shirtless at four in the morning.."
You tossed the jacket to him, Chan opting to drop the shirt in his hand before he caught it to not get the filth on it. He happily slid it over his shoulders and zipped it up all the way, picking up the soiled shirt once more.
"Shall we go?" Chan said as he double-checked his pockets and walked towards the studio door.
"We shall."
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redeyerhaenyra · 9 months
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Konïg discovering his size kink
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Summary: Konïg discovers how much he likes how big he is compared to you
Warnings: Guess what! Smut. It's just smut. Size kink (duh), Doggy, Google translate German (I'm sorry 😭), Konïg being a bit of a himbo, afab reader, there is one time at the end reader is referred to as a girl in German, but honestly there's no other mention of readers gender so I hope the nonbinary pals will also be able to enjoy :D, let me know if I've missed anything
Notes: Reader is written as smaller than Konïg but he's so huge that anyone of any size can enjoy this!
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The way I'm always so ready to talk about size kink
Especially with Konïg omg!!!
6'10 giant he really is my King
Anyway
I think Konïg's size kink didn't actually manifest until you
Sure he's not blind, he knows how he towers over everyone else
But it's like, it was never a part of his sex life till he was having sex with you
Like it just never occurred to him
But then, with you, it suddenly all made sense
He had you in doggy, fucking you on his thick cock in deep, steady thrusts
In this position he'd a chance to really observe how much bigger he was than you
Normally, when you two fucked, he'd be so entranced watching your beautiful face he'd have no interest looking anywhere else
Oh but now.. now he could see
How the plush skin of you hips spilled between his big hands, how they were fully enveloped by them
How he could so easily pull you back and forth, spearing you on his cock like you were nothing more than a fleshlight
A low grunt caught in his throat, dick twitching as the realisation of oh, he liked how much bigger he was than you
He liked it very much
Konïg leaned over you, pulling you further into his lap as he squished his whole body around you
He's so all-consuming, every sense is filled with him and him alone
He moans open-mothed in your ear, and licks up your neck
"Scheiße, ich hatte nicht... nicht gemerkt, wie sehr ich deine Kleinheit mag, Schatzi. Do you like it too? Ja..ja.. das wette ich, ja.." (Fuck, I did not.. not realise, how much I liked your littleness, honey.. I bet you do..)
After you and he cum, he finally notices how hard your poor litle muschi tries to keep all his cum inside, but it just can't help to let some leak out and dribble down your thighs
Makes sure to give it a little soothing thankyou kiss
Takes a moment to tell your pussy how proud of it he is, taking such a big cock in such a little hole, such a trooper
Cuz like, I know his dick is big!!! I know it!!!!!
It's proportional, shall we say 😭 your cunny working overtime so Konïg makes sure to show his appreciation to it
"Mein Gott, ich weiß nicht wie du das machst, work so hard for me, all of your strength goes into fitting my dick inside you, ja? Ja.. because you're so little, my tiny, tiny mädchen.." (My god, I don't know how you do it)
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teaboot · 2 months
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I do not have Boy Knowledge to trade, but can I ask for dinner party hosting tips???
Sure!
I grew up broke but the great-grandparents passed on all their old etiquette, so *fart noise* got a lot of old fashioned shit kickin around, this is what we'd do
PREP:
Clean the house in advance. And not just common areas- the whole place. Minimum the kitchen, living room, bathroom, entrance. Take out all the trash, no dirty dishes, scrub out the toilet. (This is less vital with super casual close friends and family.)
Have snacks ready before arrival. Ask in advance about any allergies and accommodate. Same for actual food.
Aim for business-casual clothing. Jeans are okay if they're well-fitted and clean, with no holes, but nothing acid-wash. Sleeveless shirts should be at least three fingers wide, typically women-only but fuck gender conformity I don't give a shit.
Put coffee or the kettle on a minute or two before you expect people to arrive. Coffee should be fresh and kettle should be boiled around the same time folks arrive.
Have a place for people to put their coats and shoes. An area rug works for shoes, ans if you don't have a coat rack or closet for jackets it's handy to have a bedroom cleaned out and a bed made so people can keep coats, scarves, bags, and purses somewhere.
In some cultures cooking doesn't start until guests arrive. The way I was raised, cooking starts much earlier, and things should be coming out of the oven after they've been there a few minutes and had time to chat.
Set the table before guests arrive: Typical setting when I was younger was matching placemats at every seat, plate next. Fork on the left, knife and then spoon on the right. Wine glass on the right, saucer on the right, cup on saucer for hot drinks. Cloth napkin under the spoon and knife on the right, unless rolled with a napkin ring, in which case it could be set at the top of the plate, on the plate, or on the right hand side. Salt, pepper, and a butter dish is to be set out- one of each for every four to six seats is a decent rule of thumb.
DURING:
Guests are expected to announce themselves by knocking or ringing the bell. When this happens, usually a younger member of the family is sent to answer the door and let them in. Hosts follow shortly after, and hugs and greetings take place. The host offers to take people's coats and bags, or otherwise indicates where they can be placed. Shoes come off and are left at the door.
Tour of the house. This doesn't happen every time, but a quick, "let me show you around" may happen if you expect to be there a full day or longer, or if someone needs to politely stall for time, or if the host is especially happy to have you there or to show you something. This usually skips bedrooms, but a nod will usually be given to indicate adult's rooms, and kid's rooms may be peeked at to show off or do introductions with small children.
Offering seats. Usually starts in the living room, where, "can I get you anything?" Is asked. Options usually include wine, beer, water, some kind of juice, coffee, or tea. Possibly ginger ale or cola, but not usually much in the way of sodas.
At this point, a tray of cookies, biscuits, crackers, or other small snacks might be set our to be shared. Here, it's polite to eat a little and join in on smalltalk.
Dinner. When food is ready to come out of the oven, someone in the host's home will announce that dinner is ready, and guests and hosts will relocate to the dinner table and pick seats. (If there is not enough room at the dinner table for everybody, children's plates will be set at a folding table elsewhere, or in the vacated living room area.)
Some hosts will have guests line up in the kitchen and serve their own food one at a time. The way I was taught, hosts bring food and serving utensils to the table and sit once everything is placed. Dishes are then passed in a circle from person to person as people fill their own plates. It is generally assumed that you will take your portion in such volume that everyone else can receive the same amount as you, or more.
Meal usually includes a meat-based dish, a starch like rice or potato, one to three vegetable dishes, and a bread like a bun or roll that may be buttered.
It is here preferred that you ask for something to be passed rather than reach over food. "Could you pass me the..." or "may I borrow the ..." are good ways to ask.
Elbows stay off the table. You may rest your forearms on the edge if you like, depending on how formal we're talking, but no elbows.
Napkin is spread out flat on your lap to catch anything that may drop or spill. Some people may choose to tuck I into their shirt collar to protect their suit or tie, but I've only really ever seen old folks do that, or people doing it to babies and small children.
It is polite to eat everything on your plate, especially if you served yourself. Once everyone has eaten their plate, seconds may be offered or mentioned. It's considered rude to go in for second servings if others haven't finished their firsts yet. This is a good place for conversation to pick up.
Once everyone is finished eating, a member of the hosts' house (usually a kid, sometimes a volunteer guest assisting) will clear the table, gathering empty plates and such from the guests and taking them to the kitchen to be cleaned. Drinks might be refilled now, and dessert forks or spoons might be brought in.
Dessert usually happens. While the meal itself is traditionally homemade, it is perfectly normal for dessert to be store-bought.
The serving of dessert is much less communal than dinner. The person dishing dessert will normally take a stack of plates and send a runner (again, usually a kid) to take stock of who wants dessert and carry theirs to them.
After dessert, dishes will again be gathered and removed, with the exception of cups. Coffee and tea is customary at this point, and alcohol will disappear. This is when conversation comes back in full swing- talking and unwinding is the goal here, and letting any liquor digest so drivers who may have had a sip will be safe to drive afterwards.
END:
Someone will sigh and take note of the time. This is different depending on the group, but a second round of hugs will be in order. Farewells will be made at the door. If there are plenty of leftovers, the host may insist the guest take some. Borrowed dishes and containers will ostensibly be returned at a casual future meeting, possibly as an excuse to meet up and chat over coffee.
It is polite of the guest to offer a hand with cleaning up. It is polite of the host to insist they not. If they are an acquaintance or someone to be impressed, the guest will not be allowed to help clean unless they make it clear that offense will be taken otherwise. If they're a close friend or family member, they may be accepted with some minimal pushback.
The host might start cleaning while the guest is still at the table. This is not intended as an insult.
It is polite to leave around the same time that children begin getting ready for best- usually around 8, 8:30, 9-9:30 on special occasions.
If the weather is especially terrible, or driving conditions are poor, the host might offer the guest a bed for the night. If this is done, it is best to fetch them clean sheets and blankets, a fresh towel, and whatever else they might need. They will be expected to stay no later than breakfast the following morning, unless further plans have been agreed upon. An especially prepared host might have a spare set of pajamas (close friends and family only, usually) and a new toothbrush ready for use.
I think that's everything? A lot of it is weird unspoken shit but yeah lol that's most of what I remember.
I'd love to hear what everyone else grew up with!! Share with me your food culturrrrrrre
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incorrectbatfam · 3 months
Note
The batkids (and their partners/crushes/friends) with pride month hcs?
Tim: Lady. Gentleman. Bart. You are about to meet my boyfriend. Now remember, he doesn't know I'm Robin, so you need to act like human people. Can you do that?
Kon, Cassie, and Bart: Yes sir!
Bernard, entering: Hey, it's nice to meet you guys. I'm so glad we're going to Pride together.
Cassie: *lasso immediately falls out of her bag*
Kon: *lasers the ground at Bernard's feet*
Bart: Hi, I'm Impulse.
Tim: *facepalm*
Bart: What? We didn't give away YOUR identity.
———————
Steph, running a food truck: Pride snacks! Get your Pride snacks hot 'n ready! Get two-for-one on the bi-rria tacos!
Margie: I bet you don't have anything for straight pride. You know, the rest of us normal people.
Steph: Yo Cass, one cishet sizzler!
Cass: *throws coffee in Margie's face*
Steph: That'll be $19.99.
Steph: *turns the screen around for tips*
———————
Selina: *wears a shirt saying Free Mom Hugs*
Bruce: *wears a shirt saying Inclusive Dad Jokes*
Alfred: *wears a shirt saying Weird Grandpa Stories*
Kate: *wears a shirt saying I'm Just Gonna Tell You To Dump Them*
———————
Harper: Since this is your first Pride, we're gonna show you the ropes.
Duke: Thanks, I appreciate it.
Harper: Over there we have the Batgirls food truck. Over there is Cullen's evil mafia boyfriend selling Uno cards. And over there is the Justice League in Justice League themed drag.
Cullen: And over there is the porta potty.
Duke: Only one?
Cullen: We ran over budget. But it's gender-neutral.
———————
Renee: Kate's busy telling people to dump their partners. Mind if I hang out here?
Harley: Not a problem! Want a bi-rria taco?
Renee: Nah, but I'll take the les-beans if you don't want them.
Ivy: We were just about to start a game of Gay Uno.
Renee: Gay Uno?
Harley: It's like regular Uno except when you put down a +4 you have to kiss.
Renee: Deal me in.
———————
Jason: You take the Main Street entrance. I'll cover Atlantic up to Washington. Rendezvous here in an hour.
Roy: And then we make out?
Jason, sighing: Sure.
Roy: Sloppy style?
Jason: This is a PG-13 post, Roy.
———————
Dick: Of course I make people question their sexuality with a face like this.
Wally: Sure, your face...
Wally: *glances down*
Donna: You guys are exhausting. I'm joining Roy on patrol.
———————
Barbara: Welcome to the annual conference of Sapphics Who Used To Date Dick Grayson. Helena, what's the first item on our agenda?
Helena: Discussing forming a polycule over dinner.
Bette: I already made a reservation.
Kory: I call braiding everyone's hair.
———————
Luke: Thanks for giving me a hand with the fireworks.
Carrie: Of course. By the way, I have something to tell you. You're the first person I've told.
Luke: I accept you.
Carrie: Thanks, but I was actually gonna say that I scratched your car in the parking lot.
Luke: WHAT?!
Carrie: Also I go by she/they.
———————
Lois: How on Earth did you burn your cape at a Pride festival?
Jon: Well...
[earlier]
Damian and Jon: *watching the fireworks*
Damian: I like that flower one.
Jon: *shoots into the sky to grab it*
Damian: *facepalm*
Tim, sitting nearby: You and me both.
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fefern · 4 months
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✧˖° first dates with them. | lingyang, m!rover, jiyan headcanons.
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⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: going on a first date is always nerve wracking, yet can also be exciting! what's it like for these boys to take you out on your first date together?
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved (separate): lingyang, male rover, jiyan, and a gender neutral reader.
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hello! coming to you live with my first post for wuwa! just some cute little headcanons with the boys on first dates with you because i love planning dates out ;;!! requests are open if you want to talk or have me write something!! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)
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Lingyang
Lingyang has never been more excited or nervous to hang out with someone, even more so since this was his first date with you. 
As someone who always seemed to fear being different from the humans around him, he felt extra self-conscious when he looked in the mirror and adjusted his outfit. Did he look alright? Were you going to enjoy this as much as he thought he would? Will everything go well? What if you decided you changed your mind and didn’t want to date someone of his species?
His first date gift for you would be a small lion plushie. Cute and fluffy with vibrant colors, he’d hold it out in front of him and shut his eyes tight, anxiety flowing through him. “These are for you! That way, when you miss me, you can hug this! If you want to, no pressure!” 
He’d be ecstatic when you took it into your hands and held it throughout your date together, happily looking between you and the plush and feeling his cheeks turn a rosy pink that you two were going out together. 
He’d probably take you to the best food spots all around Jinzhou, ranting about which dishes to try or who had his favorite foods. He’d want to get to know you more, curious and nervous as he’s asking you about your likes, dislikes, what your daily life is like in Jinzhou. Lingyang would walk and eat with you along the way, practically enamored by anything you did or said. 
His tail would swish fast back and forth whenever you were talking. Even if it’s something you found mundane, he couldn’t help but be happy just listening to you speak. His ears will also be very reactive around you, usually up but always reacting accordingly to whenever you’d tell a story or joke with him. 
He’ll let you pet him if you want to, he trusts you after all. His cheeks flush a soft pink and he lets out a small purr when you do so, finding himself growing a bit shyer at the sweet touch. He also feels a tad embarrassed by it, so you’ll have to pry his hands away as he childishly hides the way he’s turning red from you. 
He seems a little bit sad when you two do have to part, but when you ask him when the next one would be, a hopeful look emerges in his eyes as he begins to excitedly make plans to see you again and take you on another date. 
Other Points:  - Will jump in place when super excited to tell you something while on the date.  - Would point to some random cute things on your walk and go, “That reminds me of you!” - Happy to talk about lion dancing with you, and if you show more interest in it, he’ll offer to give you your own personal show one day!
Rover (Male)
Considering he is a person that just woke up in a strange world with no memories of his past or who he is, he is a bit lost on the idea of what to do during a date with you. Were there rules he had to follow? Did people in Jinzhou have certain taboos or ways that they executed dates?
He’d most likely ask all around the city in order to find out what to do or where to take you. He wanted to make sure the experience was good after all, not something that the both of you would dread. 
When he meets up with you, his hair is a bit more put together than usual and he stands up tall, giving you a small smile as he gently takes your arm and links it with his. 
“Take me around the city. Show me how you see the world through your eyes.”
His first date gift would be a small box of candy. I could definitely see Rover as being a person who likes small sweet treats as a guilty pleasure, and he’d want to share them with you as a way of connecting you with something that you love. 
He’s calm throughout most of your stroll, browsing through stores or looking around in quiet curiosity as you show him little nooks and crannies of the city. He enjoyed hearing how you would describe stores or fixate on different areas of the city that he hadn’t thought to really pay attention to before. 
He makes a mental note of the places that you like so that for your next date, you two could come back to them. Rover is already a few steps ahead in terms of thinking where he wants to go with you or what he wants to do. 
When you’re done showing him the city, he’ll give you a kind, endearing look and smile at you. He’ll take a moment to just admire you, shifting some of your hair out of your face and enjoy being in your presence before ultimately, it is time to part ways. He’ll wave you off, thanking you for everything and giving him a tour, before he smiles to himself like a fool and turns to head back to his quarters. 
Other Points: - Probably would be looking at you more than the city.  - Fast walker, so you’d have to keep up the pace. Apologies if he’s going too fast and happens to catch you struggling. - Will inquire about certain places just to listen to you talk. 
Jiyan
As the general of the Midnight Rangers that conducts himself in a poised, righteous manner, he’d be the most classy out of all the people to take you out on a date. 
Jiyan’s got a busy schedule as the head of such an important group in Jinzhou, but after bonding with you and asking you out he wanted to ensure that he carved out time in advance for just you and him to spend an afternoon together. 
He’d take you to a fancy restaurant in Jinzhou, the best money can buy. He’d be sure to pick you up from your place and walk with you to the restaurant. When you open the door, he’s standing in front of you with his hair slicked back and ponytail waving a bit in the wind, his clothes pristine and ironed out to look his absolute best in front of you. 
His present for you is a bouquet of flowers he made himself. He enlisted the help of his mom for this one, catching up with her about medical practices as he puts together the best pecok, irises, and poppies that he could find when he was out on his rounds into a pretty bouquet just for you. It’s wrapped up with brown paper and has a nice aqua bow on it, matching his hair.
When you get to the restaurant, he’ll look at the menu with you and ask you to order anything your heart desires. He already knows what he wants to eat, and will quietly look at you with a softened expression as you begin choosing what you want. He finds the way you handle yourself beautiful, even if it’s through simple things like ordering food. 
Jiyan will happily eat anything you don’t end up finishing. He doesn’t want to waste money, and he also cannot deny that the way you ask him to finish your plate was cute. He’ll work it off anyways with the amount of fighting and training he does, so he doesn’t mind. 
Will pay for the meal. No splitting or you paying, as much as you might plead and beg.
Will take you back to your place and entertain any questions you may have for him, whether it be about his past, missions he’s been on, or just about his duties as general of the Midnight Rangers. When he drops you off, he’d take the back of your hand and gently place a kiss on it before standing up straight and giving you a small smile, wishing you a goodnight. 
Other Points: - Will hold all your belongings so your hands are free and light. Does not matter how heavy or how much you have, he will refuse to let you “labor” like that, as he puts it.  - Admires your personality and the way you hold yourself when you speak. - Has a strong desire to protect you; always subconsciously keeping an eye out for any danger even though it’s daylight out.
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waldau-archived · 4 months
Text
how they take care of you — seventeen | 2,531 words | hurt/comfort, fluff
i didn't know i liked writing ot13 this much!
gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out/tired/scared/ill/sad? y'know, the usual spectrum of negative human emotions?
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seungcheol
gets so concerned when he hears a hitch in your voice when you greet him that he drops whatever he’s doing and rushes to you. doesn’t matter if he’s on a call or if he’s doing some important paperwork, he’s all yours now.
gives you a big, comforting hug that tries to shield you from everything but him. kisses your head to try and ground you.
doesn’t make you talk if you don’t want to, but he insists that you don’t keep it in for too long because it’s only going to hurt you in the end. lasts only for a while before asking if there's someone that needs some talking to for making you feel this sad.
tries to do anything in his power to see you smile, even if it's momentary. shows you a funny picture of his favourite child (mingyu) to cheer you up. asks if you feel okay enough to walk kkuma with him, because she needs some time with her other favourite person (you).
“you know i love you, right? that's never changing.”
jeonghan
is proud to be the person that becomes your comfort when something doesn’t go right, or when you’ve had a bad day.
immediately bottles up any jokes he’s about to make and wipes away your tears, stops only when you bat his hands away. even if he doesn’t want to let go of you, he respects your boundaries.
when you're feeling a bit better, he pulls you down into the sofa and cuddles with you, and is content whether you choose to tell him what’s on your mind, or if you want to be silent and fiddle with his shirt instead.
kisses your forehead and looks into your eyes when he promises you that it’s just one bad day, and that he’s always here for all the others. links pinkies with you because he knows how much it means to you, even if it may seem childish.
will resort to tickling you to make the last traces of your sadness vanish, and asks if there’s anything else he can do to make you smile.
joshua
comes to pick you up from work because he has a free day, and realizes something’s wrong the moment you greet him hello without even looking at his face for more than two seconds.
doesn’t make a big deal out of it, though. takes your stuff from you and greets you softly. opens the door for you and buckles your seat belt. asks you if it’s okay that he’s not taking you home first, because there’s some place else he wants to take you.
dismisses any concerns you have about not looking “good enough” to go out, because you look absolutely gorgeous at any time of the day, and he’d never lie about something like this to you. lets you choose whatever music you want as he weaves through the traffic on the streets, telling you about his day.
parks the car and gets out to hold your hand in his as he guides you over to the many stalls, asking you to pick whatever you want to eat. sits next to you on one of the benches overlooking the river, your legs swinging as you lean into his side and enjoy your meal. is glad he could take care of you like this because you needed it.
“trust me when i say whatever happened is not your fault, okay, sweetheart?”
junhui
is more confident in his actions than his words, because he can immediately notice the little changes in your behaviour: your tired smile, and the way you’re kind of curled in on yourself, as if trying to take up less space.
gives you a long hug with lots of cheek kisses and pulls you into the kitchen to show you what he’s working on: a dish that coincidentally happens to be your comfort food. it’s your favourite, especially when jun makes it in his own style.
this six foot man becomes small as he tries to do anything to make you smile. hates that you’re even feeling this way. throws random pickup lines at you to see which one gets you to crack and slap his arm and tell him to stop (he won’t, because he loves you too much).
offers to feed you dinner once it’s ready and makes random airplane noises that bring out a giggle from you. watches as you eat slowly and is glad when he sees your bowl is empty. doesn’t resist your offer of feeding him dinner once you’re done.
hides under the blankets with you and watches cat videos till your eyes shut from exhaustion and his arm hurts from holding up the phone from so long. cuddles with you and doesn’t let go even when you halfheartedly complain about how warm it is.
soonyoung
becomes so gentle that it pulls you out of your dullness a bit, makes you wonder where your usually hyperactive boyfriend is.
doesn’t baby you because he knows you don’t like it, but he makes sure you get everything you need. calls his mother to ask her the exact recipe for this soup she used to feed him when he used to get ill. stays by your side even when you have a raging fever and you’re worried he’s going to catch it if he kisses your cheek one more time.
doesn’t complain even once when you wake him up because of how uncomfortable you’re feeling. what else is he there for, if he can’t take care of the person he loves the most? wraps himself along with you in your blanket even if it’s hot enough that he can just melt.
is your hype man when you finally get better enough to start moving around the house by yourself. watches you with the biggest smile on his face that he will not tamp down when he sees you eating the soup he made, and almost cries with joy when you ask him for a second serving.
doesn’t blame you one bit when he catches the same bug a week later, because you’re there to take care of him through it, and because he loves you too much for it to be an issue.
wonwoo
gently pulls you into his chest the moment he sees your tear-streaked cheeks, and rests his head on yours. doesn’t ask you what’s wrong because he feels it’s more important to make you feel better.
doesn’t care that your tears are leaving behind a spot on his shirt, and shushes you for even pointing it out. in fact he wants you to do that so that you can run out of tears and he can take care of you properly.
gives you his hoodie to wear because it’s oversized on you, and he loves seeing you in it just as much as you love wearing it.
makes you wrap your arms around his waist from behind and cling onto him while he goes about the house finishing his share of chores. does yours without asking if he senses you’re too drained out to do them.
absolutely needs you by his side regardless of what he’s doing, whether it’s playing a game or brushing his teeth. offers to read you a book if you’re having trouble falling asleep. tells you he loves you in the lowest voice possible when he sees you finally asleep against his chest, breathing evened out.
jihoon
might not very verbal, but when it comes to you, he knows exactly what to do to make things better.
knows you’re in his studio when the door shuts, but you don’t greet him. decides to finish some edits on the song he’s working on before he turns to you, only to find you lying on the sofa facing away from him.
genuinely sad to hear you had a bad day. he got through today only because of all the encouraging texts you sent him. decides the least he can do is return the favour.
wraps you in your favourite blanket that he always keeps at the studio for when you visit. holds your hand regardless of whether you want to talk or not. offers to order food to the studio so that he can make sure you’re not hungry.
very thankful that you came to him because you were feeling down, and he very much wants to call it a day and take you home so that he can cuddle with you and make your day just a bit better.
seokmin
his mood almost always mirrors yours, so when he sees you so exhausted and down, his heart genuinely hurts.
not a confrontational person, but he’s willing to fight whatever made you sad, even if it was a table you stubbed your toe on. happy that it brings a smile to your face even if he didn’t actually fight anything.
have you seen his arms? wraps them around you till you push him off with a bit of a smile on your face. he then decides he wants to use them to bake something for you. you’re the better baker between the two of you and since he’s got loads of time today, he decides he wants to learn something that he can make the next time you’re away and he doesn’t have to feel that lonely.
is your own personal jukebox. belts out whatever song you want, and does a mini infinite aju nice in the comfort of your kitchen, making you jump while the oven works, till you’re tired and actually smiling.
“it’ll be okay, i promise. i love you.”
mingyu
hates that you had a nightmare but is thankful that he was sleeping right next to you when it happened.
the biggest cuddle bug you’ll ever see you in your life. when you wake him up with a shaky voice, he immediately blinks out of his sleep and holds you in his arms. he’ll hug you and keep hugging you till he can drain your sadness even just a little.
doesn’t matter how late it is; if you can’t go back to sleep, he’ll pull you to the kitchen and make his ramen just for you. makes you help him chop some ingredients and stir the broth so that you feel involved. keeps purposely bumping into you every time you cross paths and takes a kiss as payment.
finds some cheesy, slow music to dance to and gently pulls you all over the kitchen, twirling you and even bending you as the song ends. loves hearing your laugh when he pulls you back up.
“i hope you dream of me when you sleep again. i love you.”
minghao
words aren’t necessary when he can just take care of you the way you always deserve to be taken care of.
actually gets upset (a little) when you apologize for crying in front of him. who else will make you feel better when you’re down if not for him? makes you promise never to feel nervous to be emotional around him.
runs a bath for you and makes your favourite food. when you’re done with dinner and feeling a bit better, he takes you to bed and cuddles with you, wanting you to focus on his breathing so you can calm yourself. he whispers endearments into your ear. also makes sure you know how proud he is of you for getting through today.
would give you the entire world if he could, but when you tell him the only thing you want is him, he promises you he’s never going anywhere, no matter what happens.
“i’m so lucky to call myself yours, my love. always.”
seungkwan
he can never stand seeing his loved ones sad, so when he sees you, he needs to find a way to make your smile get back to your face.
sees your lips wobble when you say hello to him, and he eventually coaxes the issue out of you: your friends had ditched a get-together you’d been planning at the last minute, and they didn’t even have the decency to apologize for it. he feels extremely angry on your behalf and is ready to curse. doesn’t do it only because it won’t help you.
thinks about what he can do to make you happy. asks if he can take you out on a drive tonight so you can watch the stars with him. when you regretfully decline the offer, he asks if you want to create a blanket fort and watch movies or go to sleep.
it’s not long before he’s constructing a blanket fort for the first time in his life thanks to some youtube tutorials. he’s upset when it collapses right in the middle of constructing it, but he realizes he’d build it a hundred times more if it meant you’d laugh the way you just did.
sets up snacks and your favourite drinks after a while. keeps apologizing to you on behalf of your so-called friends till you tell him to stop. promises that he’s always going to be with you, and that you don’t have to be sad when you’re with him. falls asleep with you in his arms, and a smile on your face, snacks and movies forgotten.
hansol
feels bad the moment he sees you try to mask the sadness on your face with a smile.
better with actions than words, so he kisses your forehead and trails you around the house while you try to relax from the day you had. if you’re really sad, he lets you just rest your head against his collarbone and breathe till you feel better.
“you’ve got this, and you’ve got me, okay? i’m right here.”
has a bunch of handmade coupons for whenever you feel sad. each coupon has the same four options: eat, talk, watch a movie, sleep. does whatever you choose, whether it’s only one or all four.
another one who has no problem with prolonged eye contact. he looks at you till you understand that he loves you more than he can say and that he’s always there for you when you feel like this.
chan
always used to being babied by his older brothers, so he feels happy to get a chance to take care of you. just doesn’t like the fact that you’re sad, because you deserve to be anything but.
very transparent with his affection for you. he whispers “i love you” into your hair when you ask him for a hug, shouts it across the living room when you come out to get some water, and holds your hand under the table during dinner even if it’s inconvenient.
if you’re really down, and don’t feel like talking, he bundles you into a blanket and puts you on the sofa and sits close to you, so that you have your space but he’s close enough if you need him.
sits with you while you work and watches intently even if he doesn’t understand much of what you’re doing. ready to go to the store and get you anything you’re craving, regardless of how late it is.
“i love looking after you, okay? don’t ever feel bad about telling me what’s troubling you.”
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched
@minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo
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pomefioredove · 5 months
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Hi! I love your writing style, especially how you portrait Rook, it's just how I imagine him💜
Could I request for Rook, Vil, Floyd and Azul reacting to reader calling them "love" or something affectionate for the first time? Maybe with reader realising and imploding on the inside?
Of course no pressure, I eat anything you write anyway!
-🔥
GUYS THESE PROMPTS. and thank you so much <3 I like thinking I do a good job 😭
summary: accidentally calling them "love" type of post: headcanons characters: floyd, azul, rook, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, fluff!
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𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡
it's a quick slip of the tongue, one he might not have even noticed if he was distracted by anything else
unfortunately, today it's you that's caught his attention, and so he hears and processes every honeyed word with startling accuracy
"Could you pass me that pencil, love?"
wait. that's not what you'd said in your mind
the embarrassment is immediate, and you would have apologized if not for the big grin on his face
he goes on to brag about it to everyone for the rest of the day
...or week
however long it takes for that fuzzy feeling to wear off him
of course, at that point, he'll find you and pester you until you say it again for him
you never did get that pencil.
𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨
perhaps your unfortunate habit of verbalizing your subconscious thoughts has finally come around to punish you
you're in Azul's office at the lounge, and he's explaining something about budgeting
you don't... quite understand, but he seems pretty pleased with himself, so you're happy for him
"I'm so proud of you, love,"
congratulations, you broke him
he forgets everything he said and everything he was about to say
and he just stares
his face burns a bright shade of red, and for a moment he looks around the room as if he's searching for somewhere to hide
you feel bad right away, and make an attempt to explain and apologize, though your own embarrassment makes everything you say unintelligible and even more embarrassing
after a moment of watching you stammer he just shushes you
"I appreciate the compliment. Just give me a warning next time... there will be a next time, won't there?"
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𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭
intentional or not, he's been waiting for this moment
it's late, you're tired; Rook had been dragging you around campus all day, showing you his favorite "people-watching" spots
by the time he walks you back to Ramshackle, you're happy, but completely drained
(being around Rook tends to do that)
you're too sleepy to even realize the words coming out of your mouth until it's too late
"Thank you again. Good night, love,"
his reaction is immediate
he launches into a very long soliloquy about his feelings towards you, what a wonderful day it was, and how he treasures your relationship no matter how you define it
already has some petnames of his own for you ready to go
amour, chou chou, chéri, miel, cœur...
prepare to never hear the end of this
𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
Vil is actually quite used to being called all sorts of lovely things
...albeit, mostly by his fans
and if it were anyone else calling him their love, he wouldn't have even noticed
but hearing it in your voice immediately catches his attention
the sentence is so simple, of course you would've missed it. he'd simply been giving you some advice, and...
"Okay. Thank you, love,"
he would have teased you for it (lovingly, of course) if not for the fact that it made him feel flustered
him. flustered!
he stares at you until you realize what exactly you'd just said to him, and then, understandably, you freak out
trying to backtrack won't help, neither does trying to explain, or apologizing
after a moment of letting you struggle, Vil just laughs
"My, my. Don't worry yourself, I take it as a compliment. But we'll have to work on your confidence some more, won't we?"
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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Mr Flavor Soda Part 2
Mr. Flavor's Soda gains traction once the creator starts selling in a fixed place. Anthony's Pasta also grows in customers when word gets out that there is a surefire way of crossing paths with Mr. Flavor on Mondays and Fridays.
It's mainly because Mr. Flavor has gained a reputation for being hard to find. It was almost as if he vanished from one side of the city to the next without so much as a hint of how he got there.
However, that didn't mean he wasn't well known. He was a young teenager, likely fifteen or so, who always rushed about Gotham doing questionable parkour.
People had seen him climb up fire escapes only to do crazy leaps, looking to be aiming for his knees to break on each landing. He was spotted doing cartwheels across walking lanes, sometimes going over the hoods of cars that stopped on the lines instead of around.
He deliberately looked for the most haunted places in Gotham, walking with a traveling tea set because "the ghosts like to have tea parties." He had picnics in the middle of dark alleys, asking the air if it would like a second cup but pouring nothing from his teacup.
People were often confused by his responses when speaking to him. Nothing he said was particularly bad, but it showed his severe social awkwardness.
Customers walked away bemused but holding bottles of delicious beverages.
Another odd thing about the boy was his refusal to sell any of his creations for more than a single dollar. Nothing in Gotham was cheap. A regular Zesti was at least two dollars and nineteen cents, but Mr. Flavor looked appalled to charge so much.
A kid claiming to be among the original group that discovered Mr. Flavor, bestowing him the nickname, quoted the strange soda maker as saying, "If someone gives me a dollar, then I am one dollar richer. But if someone gives me two dollars, then they are two dollars poorer instead of only one."
It sounded humble on the surface, but it didn't really answer the questions the kid had originally asked him which were: "Why do you only charge a dollar? Why not more?"
Some people in Gotham were weary of Mr. Flavor. He didn't sound all quite there in the head. He wasn't near the level of insanity of the supervillains running around, but it wouldn't be a surprise if they all woke up one day to find out Mr. Flavor had snapped.
The remaining skeptics also regarded his drinks with cautious eyes. Despite his claims and the word of Red Hood, many wondered if Mr. Flavor was putting some kind of drug in his drink, hoping to spread it to the masses with his cheap prices.
If he was even selling soda at all.
Zesti is a familiar and beloved brand, but Mr. Flavor was once seen tasting the beverage and shouting, "Is this cream soda?!" He then bought one bottle or can of every soda option from the same gas station.
Each one was apparent "cream soda" according to Mr. Flavor. It was confirmed that the drinks the young boy made were far from the flavor of what they considered soda.
Now, Tim didn't see anything wrong with that. Jason had brought back samples of the other's work, and though the ingredients were interesting, they were ultimately confirmed to be soda. Or as close to soda as Mr. Flavor claimed it was.
He was just a bit eccentric while wandering Gotham. Nothing to worry about. Tim, knowing Jason, Bruce- and maybe even Dick with how determined his eldest brother was to try one of the sodas- had everything regarding Mr. Flavor under control; he chose to turn his attention to a series of missing people reports hitting Old Gotham.
There was no visible connection with the victims besides all having long chestnut hair. Age, gender, and social class didn't matter to whoever was taking these people- and Tim knew they were being taken. Tim found it strange that people who vanished were last seen near the same area, having built a map showcasing they were being targeted within a triangle that covered well-known shopping districts.
It was a bit of ground to cover, but Tim figured if he wandered around there long enough, he would attract the kidnapper's attention. He opened his closet, dusted off his old wig, and an hour later, Caroline Hill made her way over to Old Gotham.
Tim originally hated his Caroline Hill as he did not like disguising himself as a woman, but over time, he grew to adore how easily he could change her backstory and his mannerisms to fit with whoever Caroline was that day.
Sometimes, Caroline was a first-year medical student working through clinicals and rotations. She was overworked, under a lot of stress from her assignments, and didn't have time to be distracted by a social life, much less a man asking her out.
Sometimes Caroline was a highschool student who enjoyed community service. She was friendly, outgoing, and more then willing to take the lead in projects. She was naive and sheltered not losing faith in people quite yet.
Other times, Caroline was a high school dropout who didn't know what she wanted. She would apply to any job that would hire her, dreaming of leaving Gotham one day to find a dream to chase. To her, life was dull and meaningless.
Caroline was even a fashion model once. She was famous for her streetwear outfits and gorgeous selt-taken shots. Tim was proud to say her submission to LexCorp's phone promotion contest was still being broadcast, and she received checks for her work. She oozed confidence as a woman who knew what and when she wanted it.
It showed in her walk as she strutted down Old Gotham, stopping to enter any clothing Boutique she saw under the pretense of looking for an outfit for a big-shot party. She was dressed like the world was her runway, but not a red carpet.
If anything, she dressed like a woman who used to live in Old Gotham during its glory days, gracefully wearing the vintage outfit.
Her attire drew the eye of more than one person, especially when she ran her hand through her long, lush hair, making it fall smoothly against her lower back.
Tim figured model Caroline would be a much more tempting target, mainly because she carelessly browsed the various shops and little cafes. Anyone who watched her could tell she was unaware of her surroundings, and Tim had to carefully ensure they never doubted her blindness for even a second.
It was well; he was in an antique shop, glancing at lipstick holders, when something finally happened. The door swung open with a bang, and he allowed himself to jump as it would be something Caroline would do.
"Sorry! I gave the door a little too much razzle instead of dazzle!" a voice yells. Tim twists around to see a boy his age, with wild black hair—as if he did try to run a comb through it, but the strains refused to yield—and big, sparkling, far too aqua eyes.
Was he wearing cheap color contacts? Or was he a meta?
"No problem, Danny." Ms. Pinkney, the owner, a sweet woman who had refused to marry and was now approaching her sixties, smiled back. "Are you here again to play with Cyrus?"
"Yup, I'm going to beat him today." The boy chirps, walking over to a display that was roped off. He didn't seem to care for the sign on the red rope that read "WARNING: HAUNTED BY ANGRY SPIRIT" as he stepped over it.
It was the notoriously cursed chessboard and the two original armchairs from the eighteen hundreds.
Tim knew of the rumor that the man responsible for Gotham's architectural style- Cysrus Pinkney- had been in the middle of a chess game with his friend Solomon Wayne on the eve of his fortieth birthday when he had died.
He had been poisoned in the middle of a large party thrown by Henry Cobblepot, and no one to this day knew who his murder had been. Following Pinkney's death, terrible things happened to anyone who tried to sit or even move the chessboard. Sounds of chess pieces clicking on the board, low mutters in a man's voice, and even the chair moving back and forth began to appear.
Figthen that Cysrus still lingered; Henry had gifted Cysrus's wife the two chairs, the board, and the table it sat on. She took it home and learned that only she and her children were allowed near Cysrus.
He attacked all the others, including Solomon and his other best friend, Amadeus Arkham. The attacks were so bad that everyone eventually knew not to bother Cysrus.
He became an Urban Legend of Gotham, and many tourists would travel to Old Gotham just to gawk at the Pinkey's haunted family heirlooms.
Tim watched him confidently sit in an armchair before a chessboard. He gave the opposite chair across from him a wide smile. "Hiya Cyrus."
A lamp near Tim was flung at the boy, who took the hit with a laugh. "No need to be rude."
The lamp shattered against the ground, appearing to have been lifted again, only to fall as the boy reached out and moved a pawn. Tim's stomach dropped. His experience with Greta had taught him that ghosts were very real and, when their deaths were left unsolved, often very violent.
This guy had no idea what he was dealing with.
He opens his mouth when the teenager is suddenly flung from his seat, flying across the room and smashing against the wall. Ms. Pinkney laughs as if she just saw a toddler throw a fit.
"Honestly, grandfather, must you be so rude? Danny is just trying to play with you."
Tim watches her hair shift as if someone- or something- was ruffling her hair. Yikes, it was a poltergeist who unliked Greta was not visible but able to touch anything he pleased.
"Knight G1 to F3!" Danny yells, climbing to his feet. The scraping sounds of something being dragged across the floor as Danny twists around with his arms spread wide as a very large wardrobe rushes at him. He welcomed the attack like an old friend, nose cracking as it broke.
"Going Ghost!" Danny screams through his blood, landing on the ground as the wardrobe nearly crushes him.
Tim's mouth drops open. He's taunting Cyrus!? Not challenging his existence but straight up taunting the angered spirit?!
"Grandfather!" Ms. Pinkney scowls. "Stop this at once! You're usually more friendly than this. Danny is a guest!"
"It's okay, Ms. P! I think it's almost Cyrus' death day. All ghosts tend to get a little cranky around that time. Besides we're scaring the lady."
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for " lady" Danny to refer to him as he still wears Caroline. It's enough for the boy to leap to his feet, pat himself down—ignoring the broken nose—and strut to Tim.
Before the undercover man can say anything, Danny yanks out a bottle and hands it over. "Sorry about that, ma'am. Here, I have one on the house."
A Mr.Flavor bottle is thrust into his hands; the bubbling clear water with the leaping boy has green and yellow undertones. It's the only difference to the bottle Jason showed him not too long ago.
The teenager smiles, his teeth colored red. "You're quite pretty. Have a good day! Don't let your drink get warm!"
Then he skipped right out.
"Wha?" He blinks, and Ms. Pinkney slides right up to him with a ruthful smile.
"I know what you're thinking. I don't believe Danny is eccentric, but he has a good heart." She starts carefully, studying Tim's face with far too much intensity. It's not the kind of attention that one gives someone who they are just trying to convince to leave someone else alone. Her eyes linger on his wing for a few seconds too long.
Isn't her shop smack in the middle of the missing people's map? Interesting.
"Who was that?" He says instead, making sure Caroline's voice sounds breathy and sweet.
She smiles "Danny. But most know him as Mr.Flavor."
Tim looks at the bottle in his hands, feeling the ice-cold beverage- did he just pull it out of a freezer?- and unclips it to have a sip. It's nothing like soda, but it is at the same time.
It was far smoother than other sodas, with far more bubbles, and the flavor made his tastebuds sing.
"Oh, looks like you got Sprite. That's one of my favorites," Ms Pinkney comments. "Rare that one. Danny usually sells out by now."
"Does he come here often?"
The old woman laughs. "I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree, dearie."
Not what he meant, but if it kept his new number one suspect to chat more, he is fine with the assumption.
"Does he not like girls?" Tim asks, allowing his features to pull into a pout. He is very grateful that her made Caroline young enough to pass for his own real age.
"I don't believe he likes humans, I'm afraid. Male or female."
Huh?
But Ms. Pinkney's attention was distracted by the chess board, which shook slightly as the pieces previously moved by Mr. Flavor returned to their starting positions. She walked over to carefully lift up the thrown wardrobe.
Tim is quick to help her, slowly restoring the shop to its former glory. It's only after they finish that the old lady glances in the direction in which Mr. Flavor disappeared.
"Grandfather Cyrus is my great-great-great-great-grandfather. It's easier for me to call him grandfather since he's been around for generations, but his closeness has made the family tree a bit sensitive to the paranormal. I'm unsure what Danny is, but he doesn't feel human." She sighs. "I doubt he will find what he is looking for if he continues going about things like this."
"Like what?" Tim asks, stepping closer. "What's Danny looking for?"
The old woman's dark eyes chill down his spine as she gazes at him. "Death."
In the corner of Tim's eye, a man sitting at a chess set nods his head. He decides it's a good time to end his daily undercover work. Tim leaves, strutting with less grace as his mind recounts everything he knows about Mr. Flavor.
He is unaware of the person watching him from the alley, eyes tracing the lovely mane of chestnut hair. The grin that blooms over their face is nothing else but hungry.
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