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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 1 year

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The List (1)

Summary: When a hit list spreads around New York, Bucky’s ex-wife is the only one with any information.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mafia Bucky Barnes x Ex-Wife Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Not Beta’d. I was going to conclude this with an actual ending, but it was getting long so I’ll let the readers decide how it ends. If enough people are interested, I might do a part 2. Comment if you want a part 2.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Rumors spread through the underground of New York like the plague. Four murders of New York's most elite in the past 72 hours. Floating around the city was a list of names, a hit list for anyone involved with the mafia. Bucky was no stranger to a threat on his life. Being a mob boss, he constantly walked a thin line, a trapeze artist always one slip away from falling into the hands of death. Bucky had the resources and power to not be taken out so easily. If his name was on the list, he’d be toward the end, but no one knew home long the list was or who was on it. His team had spent the past 3 days searching the city for any information on the list. He had to know who was on it.

“Mr. Barnes, sir,” Peter Parker stammered, catching his breath in the doorway. Peter was a prospect, a good kid with a good head on his shoulders. Bucky couldn't understand why such a gifted kid was so eager to join the mob. Regardless, Bucky couldn’t be happier to have such potential, but the kid picked the wrong time to join them. “We have a lead.”

Bucky’s head snapped up from his desk. He had been engrossed in his own research on his laptop that he had forgotten about his men’s quest. Peter’s spine went rigid under the mob boss’s intense stare. He had yet to get used to it. Peter was certain that was why Bucky’s right-hand man, Steve Rogers, had sent him to retrieve Bucky. Well, that or it was part of Sam Wilson’s attempt at a joke to haze the new guy. Either way, Peter had been a fan of Steve growing up. Steve usually was the face while Bucky worked in the shadows, which only made Bucky more intimidating to Peter. He respected Steve though which is why he found Bucky without hesitation.

“Follow me, sir.”

Standing abruptly, the chair Bucky had been sitting in crashed into the wall behind him with a loud bang. He smoothed his rough palms down the front of his pristine white shirt before straightening his black suit jacket. Without a word, he extended his hand behind Peter, encouraging him to lead the way.

Peter anxiously peered over his shoulder the entire way down the hall. He thought he might have been walking too fast, but Bucky’s pace never faltered. Bucky was hot on his heels, always one step behind him. Stopping unexpectedly outside of the boardroom, Bucky hissed nearly crashing into the teen. Before Bucky could reprimand him, Peter explained, “Before we go inside, Steve told me to give you a message.” Bucky’s shoulders relaxed a bit leaving Peter relieved his boss wasn’t going to chew him out. Still, his own dress shirt began to cling to him with the amount of sweat he was producing. Bucky may have relaxed a bit, but his posture was always disciplined, predatory, and intimidating.

“Spill it out,” Bucky huffed, his hands resting in the pockets of his slacks.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Peter nodded, “Right, um- He said don’t do anything stupid and that we need her.”

The jaw of the boss twitched before he stormed past a confused Peter. His hands pressed into each of the double doors using his full force to slam the doors wide open. All eyes snapped to Bucky as he strode into the room, confidence and determination oozing off of him. Peter ushered in behind him, awkwardly failing to close the doors several times before succeeding. A string of apologies escaped his lips as he stepped further into the room. The serious look Steve shot Peter had him clearing his throat and adjusting his dress coat.

Sam and Steve stood side by side on one end of the room, their arms crossed. They were cautious, guarded rightfully so. Any one of their lives could be on the line. For all they knew, everyone in the room was on the hit list. Spying the woman sitting at the middle of the conference table, Bucky stalked across from her. With his eyes trained on the floor, he dragged the chair away from the table but made no move to sit down as he stepped up to the table.

When his eyes met hers, he puffed out his chest. His arms remained at his sides, his hands burrowing in his pockets. Without so much as a greeting, Bucky began his interrogation, “Who created the hit list.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, a frown etched on her crimson-painted lips. “Right down to business, huh Buck?” A smirk replaced her frown. “I should’ve known, you never were one for much foreplay.”

Bucky pressed his tongue to his cheek. He had expected this, her teasing. It was always a dance between them, one he wanted to avoid by cutting to the chase. She always knew how to rile him up, in more ways than one.

“Princess-”

‘No,” she stopped him with her hand raised, “you don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Bucky snorted, leaning forward, “Isn’t that what you are now?”

“Who is she?” Peter attempted to whisper to Steve, but everyone heard him.

Taking pity on the clueless teen, Sam answered, “She’s Bucky’s ex-wife, Y/N.”

Ignoring the other men, Y/N flashed her diamond engagement ring at Bucky. The light reflected off of the ring making it impossible to miss even from where Steve, Sam, and Peter had been standing.

“That title is pending, followed by queen,” she sassed.

It started out as a term of endearment. Y/N always had a taste for the finer things in life, Bucky’s lifestyle satisfied that craving. He enjoyed spoiling his princess, but that was all she would be. A princess, someone no one would take seriously. It had been an ironic twist of fate that she had met an actual prince after her divorce from Bucky.

Examining the rock on her finger, her signature red nail had been replaced by a nude shade. She was no longer accepting his blood money; she had a good man and clean money now. His eyes traveled back to her face, zeroing in on her red-painted lip. Her hands may be clean now, but her lips were still tainted. The secrets she could talk about his business alone could ruin him which reminded him of why she was here in the first place.

“Who created the hit list, Y/N,” he tried once again to control the conversation.

Pursing her lips, she let him.

“I don’t know,” her gaze dropped to the table, “but I know who has it.”

Finally getting somewhere, Bucky reached back pulling the chair behind him. Once he was seated, he snapped his fingers. Not a moment later, a pen and paper were placed in front of him.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, pen in hand.

Y/N raised her head, the man twirled a pen between his fingers tempting her to sign a deal with the devil. Shaking the image from her head she placed her hand over his, ceasing his movements.

“It’s not that easy. He won't meet with just anyone.”

“He?” Steve asked.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Bucky isn’t just anyone,” Sam called out.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “He may very well be suspect number one. It would be bad for anyone to meet with Bucky alone.” Feeling Bucky’s hand turn beneath her own she went to pull away, but he grabbed her hand.

“What about a future queen?”

Eyeing him beneath her lashes, Y/N pulled her hand back to her chest. Noticing the hesitant look on her face, Bucky leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t a fool to think she was here willingly. She wanted something; she needed something.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Bucky asked, “What do you want?”

Thumbing the ring on her finger, she contemplated lying. She didn’t want to need Bucky, but she did. One look at Bucky and she knew he would see through any lie she would come up with, so she told the truth, “I need protection.” Suddenly she felt exposed with everyone's eyes on her. “If my name is on the list,” her voice shook. She wasn’t Bucky’s dirty little secret. People knew she was his wife, well ex-wife. She had ties to the mob and if her name was on the list or if her fiancé found out, the engagement would be called off.

After a long pause, Bucky spoke, “Get me access to the list and let me worry about the rest.”

Relief flooded Y/N. He could have turned her away. He could have blackmailed the information out of her, but he didn’t. Bucky was a rough man, but he was also kind. She had seen it first-hand for many years. Guilt ate away at her for her earlier actions. He knew she had been engaged but she didn’t need to rub it in his face. She wanted to hurt him but only because he had hurt her. A small part of her hoped he would protect her not because he was kind but because he still loved her.

Y/N was able to request a meeting with the man not even 24 hours later. His assistant had sent her an invitation, but it wasn’t for what she had been expecting. Instead, the man had invited her to a gala. He was a businessman after all, and her appearance would be good for business. At a time when she should be laying low, she was about to attend a high-press event.

It wasn’t long after Bucky was notified that he insisted he escort her. Y/N protested but he had argued that he couldn’t protect her if she was dead. That had convinced her, on one condition, they arrive separately. She was still engaged.

The event was beautiful but high glass windows had Y/N on edge. Anyone could see her. She tried to distract herself by searching for the host. There were so many bodies and no sign of the man who had invited her. In the middle of her search, a hand circled her wrist tugging her in the opposite direction. Y/N began clawing at the man’s wrist, an attempt to pry him off. When he stopped and spun around, she crashed into his chest. With her face in his chest, the unmistakable scent of expensive cologne hit her. She shoved his chest putting enough distance between the two.

“Bucky,” Y/N hissed, “you’re supposed to be laying low.”

Surveying the crowd, Bucky muttered, “I am. It’s you who is running all over the damn place.”

Y/N shook her head glaring at him. Not only did he smell good, but he looked good too. He had shaved since she had last seen him. He had traded in his white dress shirt for a black one, forgoing a bow or tie. The top button of his shirt was open, relieving his collarbone. Instead of drooling over her ex-husband she continued to glare at him. It was easier to hate him than to pine over him.

“If someone takes pictures of us together and my fiancé finds out-”

His cerulean eyes shot down to meet her eyes, “Where is he anyway? Shouldn’t you be asking him for protection? Surely, he has the resources.”

Y/N froze, her hands clutching the sides of her silk gown. “He doesn’t know,” she mumbled, then her voice grew. “He doesn’t know about the list, my past, or about you.” Bucky’s eyes softened. He had his doubts before, but he was certain now that she wasn’t happy. He wanted to gloat, to rub it in her fiancé’s face. He knew Y/N better than her fiancé did, and even better, she wanted to tell him. Bucky wanted to make a joke about how keeping secrets in a relationship was unhealthy, but he kept his mouth shut. Y/N sighed, running her hands down her dress to smooth out the wrinkles she had created. “He’s out of the country right now.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she wrapped her arms around herself. His gaze dropped to the floor, but Bucky’s remained on her.

He recognized a lonely soul when he saw one because he was one himself. His lifestyle left few people he could trust. He hadn’t always been lonely though, and neither had she. Bucky’s hand twitched to reach out and hug her, but he didn’t think she would appreciate that with cameras around. He took in her appearance and couldn’t help the squeeze he felt in his heart.

“You look beautiful.”

A giggle escaped her lips, “Thanks, Buck. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He had meant to cheer her up, but her giggle was unexpected. He missed it, he missed her. Everyone he knew in the mob lifestyle had died in the mob. It was poetic in a live by the sword, die by the sword type of way. No one got out, but she did. With his status, he’d never get out and a selfish part of him wanted to pull her right back in.

“You got out, you got away from the life,” Bucky hummed, admiration in his voice, respect.

Y/N shook her head. “No, I just got away from you.”

It was his turn to laugh, “Now if that were true, I wouldn’t be standing here with you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. I am standing here with you, not you are standing here with me. He meant it. Even if she was here because of him, he was here for her, to protect her. He put her first.

“You of all people know once you’re in there’s only one way out.”

That was it for Bucky. He wasn’t pulling her back in. She never left. They might have been divorced but they had both meant it on their wedding day when they said, “Till death do us part.” Bucky’s calloused hand cupped her jaw just below her ear, pausing. She didn’t push him away. With both hands, she cradled his jaw pulling his face down to meet hers. Their lips brushed one another, slowly at first, testing the waters. Then his other hand slid up the length of her neck, sliding back to tangle his fingers in her hair. It was a dance they were all too familiar with.

The flash of a camera penetrated Y/N’s eyes beneath her closed lids and it was like pouring a bucket of cold water over her. Quickly, she pulled away shoving Bucky’s chest when his lips tried to follow her. She was fucked, royally.

“Y/N?”

Wiping her smudged lipstick, she ignored Bucky’s lingering gaze before turning to face the new voice. A woman in a blue silk dress approached the pair.

“Virginia?” Y/N asked.

The woman waved her hand in the air. “Please, call me Pepper. We spoke on the phone yesterday. Mr. Stark is ready to meet with you. Follow me.”

Without looking back, Y/N followed Pepper through the crowd. She knew Bucky would be right behind her. She would deal with him later. Right now, she needed the names on the list. Upon their arrival, Pepper exited the room, pulling the door shut behind her. On the other side of a glass desk was one of the wealthiest men in the world, Tony Stark.

“Did I interrupt something?” Tony asked eyes darting between Y/N and Bucky. “I swear there wasn’t so much tension before you two walked in.”

Y/N sent him a tight-lipped smile holding up her left hand. “I’m engaged.”

Tony shrugged, “What you do is none of my business. Besides, something like this would be published on the front page.” Y/N’s stomach dropped. “You know what they say, all press is good press.”

“Says the man with a new woman every week,” Bucky grumbled.

Tony smiled. “Precisely, I would know.”

“Mr. Stark-”

Tony loosened the bow tie around his neck. “Call me Tony.”

“Tony,” Y/N corrected, “so you know anything about a list?”

With a raised eyebrow Tony laughed, “If it’s a list you want, I suggest you talk to Pepper. She handles all of that stuff.”

“Not just any kind of list,” Y/N took a step forward, her hands clasped in front of her, “a hit list.” From this distance, Y/N couldn't miss the way Tony’s eyes shifted to Bucky.

“Are you looking to assassinate anybody?”

Bucky held up his hands, “I’m just looking to protect the people I care about.”

Y/N stood still, watching the intense stare-off between the two.

Eventually, Tony sighed, “I don’t want to be in the middle of any of this.” He tapped a few keys on the computer on his desk before turning the screen. “You better get out of here before your fiancé sends someone.”

“What?” Y/N gasped, blindly clutching Bucky’s forearm beside her. Both of their names were written in green on the list. Beneath them were some of Bucky’s most trusted men; their names written in white.

Tony leaned back in his chair. “Green means active. You’re both next on the list and judging by the number of cameras here, someone probably already knows you’re here.”

“You knew,” Bucky growled.

Tony barely flinched. “Your names weren’t active until recently. Other people’s lives are on the line. I can’t get to everyone in time.”

“Wait, why would my fiancé send someone, he’s not even in the country,” Y/N asked, trying to wrap her head around everything.

Tony frowned. “Your fiance is the one who put the hit list out. What better alibi for your significant other’s death than being out of the country at her time of death.”

Y/N would have collapsed if it wasn’t for Bucky’s quick reflexes. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her weight.

“Why?” Y/N whispered wide-eyed.

Bucky wanted to drag her out of the building toward safety but was there even a safe place? People already knew their location.

Tony shrugged. “The New York mobs aren't the only mobs out there. They're all over the country, they're in other countries. There are some real higher-ups in the mafia in other countries. The mafia controls everything, it's one of the most powerful positions. Take out other mobs and you can control more area, more power.”

Y/N felt sick. When she said you never get out once you get in, she hadn’t realized how deep she was in life now. Turning to Bucky, he was already on his phone typing. “Bucky, we need to go.”

“No. I text Steve, he’s rounding everyone up. They’ll be here soon.”

Tony’s eyes widened, his eyebrows reaching his forehead. “You can’t be serious. There are cameras everywhere. This will be plastered on every news station.”

Bucky shrugged, lifting the back of Y/N’s hand to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, a quiet promise to protect her. “All press is good press.”

Next Chapter

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pinkiemachine · 4 months

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How would you do Batman, I'm just wondering because Batman's my favorite character

OH HO HO!! I HAVE WRITTEN SO MUCH ABOUT BATMAN!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

*ahem*

His show is called BATMAN: GOTHAM FILES, and I have the basic outline for each and every one of the seasons! There’s 9 total, plus a movie finale. Here we go!

SEASON ONE:

Most of us should know basically what Bruce’s backstory is, so I’ll keep this part brief. Bruce Wayne was eight years old when his millionaire mother and father were gunned down in front of him in an alleyway in Gotham City. They never found the killer. The family’s loyal butler, Alfred Pennyworth, took care of Bruce from that point onward. Bruce started taking self-defence classes in-between going to the schwanky Gotham Academy and learning how to run his father’s business, Wayne Enterprises (a massive conglomerate that was famous throughout all of America, but especially the East Coast.) The young man had hardly healed from his traumatic experience, though, and after graduating college (something he was practically forced to do by Alfred), he decided not to stay in Gotham. He hated the city. Instead, he took off in a plane… and secretly never intended to come back…

EIGHT YEARS LATER…

It was a welcome surprise when Bruce Wayne turned up in Gotham, seemingly in a much happier headspace and eager to finally, finally take his father’s business seriously. The Prince of Gotham had returned. Months after that, there was a new legend lurking in the streets of the city. Something called “the batman” or “the bat.” Criminals were getting caught and arrested left and right, and half of them were scared out of their minds about this spectre. The police force didn’t know what to make of it… except for one Captain Jim Gordon. He knew that the legend was true… and occasionally, he would sneak into his office and scare the living daylights out of him. He and Batman had been working together for a little while now, (we get an episode later that explores how they first met), but Gordon doesn’t know who he really is under the mask, and no one else in the force thinks that Batman is even real. But Gordon is eager to help him because the police force is falling apart. They’re completely unable to do their job and keep the streets safe, so Gordon agrees to help Batman stop crime in its tracks. He wants to make Gotham safer for his wife and daughter.

Shocking literally no one, the audience discovers that Bruce Wayne is Batman, working out of a massive secret base underneath Wayne Manor—his ancestral home. But, he must balance the life of a vigilante with the life of billionaire Bruce Wayne, which can be difficult at times. We get several episodes just laying the ground work. Who runs the company when Bruce isn’t around? Lucious Fox. Who manages Bruce’s affairs and schedule? Alfred. Who makes all the gadgets and gear that Batman uses? He does. Using plenty of materials and goods he can buy since he’s a billionaire. When did he learn how to make all this stuff? Hmmmmmm….

We meet our first few villains—Penguin, Two-Face, Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, Riddler, etc—Batman is still trying to track down who murdered his parents, and we’re having a generally good time until THE MID SEASON FINALE. You see, there’s a circus coming to town.

Haley’s Traveling Circus was famous on the East Coast, being one of the oldest circuses in the country, as well as boasting the Fabulous Flying Graysons! A family trapeze act! However, this smiling troop of clowns was actually hiding some pretty dark secrets. When they arrived in Gotham City, they were asked to help out known mob-boss Tony Zucco with some… not-so-nice things. John Grayson, head of the Flying Graysons, had been feeling conflicted about how much behind-the-scenes shady dealings the circus had been involved with over the years. So, he thought that maybe if he just let the tiniest bit of evidence leak to the police, maybe they could handle everything and the Graysons wouldn’t be caught in the cross fire. This is what brings Batman to the scene. He investigates the circus, meets the Graysons, including their son, Richard, aka Dick, and eventually goes on to solve the mysterious crime, pinning it on Tony Zucco and getting certain members of Haley’s Circus arrested. (The ones actually involved in the crime.) However, Zucco manages to avoid jail time. Not only that, but he discovers who snitched on him. That night, after the case has been solved and Bruce shows up to catch the Flying Graysons perform, everything is going great until the unthinkable happens: the lines on the trapeze snap and Mr. and Mrs. Grayson go falling to their deaths.

Dick Grayson is an orphan… and he’s angry. He’s about 11 years old, but he’s smart enough to know what’s going on. He knows why Batman was coming around asking questions, he knows who Tony Zucco is, and he knows that his father made him very unhappy. After the police have arrived, but before social services do, Dick sneaks out and climbs to the top of the building with the Bat-Signal on it (yes, by this point in the story, that’s a thing). He flashes it on and off, rain pelting down, until the caped crusader arrives. He demands to know if this was Zucco’s fault. Batman refuses to say anything, but Dick doesn’t care. He says he’s going to make Zucco pay, whether Batman helps or not, and he tries his hardest to remain true to his word. After that night, Dick runs off through Gotham several times, trying to get in touch with Zucco and attempting to enact revenge, meanwhile Batman has to keep swooping in to keep the kid from getting himself killed. He recognises the pain he’s in—he completely understands his anger—and realises that he needs a teacher—a mentor—a father figure who can lead him through all of this and keep him out of trouble. So, as Bruce Wayne, he decides to adopt Dick. At first, Dick doesn’t want anything to do with this stranger—he’d rather stay with his circus family if he’s going to stay with anyone—but then, in court one day, Bruce says something—something only Batman said to him once—and all of a sudden, it clicks in Dick’s mind. He instantly asks to be placed in Bruce’s care and not a few hours after arriving at Wayne Manor, Dick manages to discover where the Batcave entrance is. Sneaking down there, he plans to become his own kind of vigilante, just like Batman, and get revenge… until Bruce catches him and tries to knock some sense into him.

It’s here that Bruce has to confront his own past. His sense and reason are saying, “Don’t let the kid try to enact revenge!” But then, he has to ask himself, “why am I still hunting down the man who killed my parents?” He has to tell himself, “it can’t be about revenge. Only what is just and fair.” When/if he finds the killer, he will turn him over to the authorities and let him face proper punishment. Zucco… he’s too powerful. There needs to be a lot of incriminating evidence against him before the police can take action, and even then, that’s not what Dick wants. Dick wants Zucco gone. Permanently. THAT is what needs to be dealt with inside of Dick. Bruce refuses to let this boy make himself a killer. Instead, he decides to channel that anger and drive into training him. You see, when Bruce vanished for eight years, it was during that time that he met many teachers and learned many new skills. Through bettering himself and learning these skills, he felt he had grown as a person and had worked through some of his emotions. It was therapeutic. He hopes it will be the same for Dick. He also teaches him about the justice system and detective work so that they can bring down Tony Zucco WITHOUT killing him. Little by little, over the course of the next year, Dick starts to turn into the infamous side-kick Robin, following Batman on small cases and learning about fighting crime… from a distance. (Mostly.) Dick does have a knack for getting into trouble.

On the personal side of things, Dick still needs to adjust to living in Wayne Manor, going to a new school (Gotham Academy) navigating being a wealthy, famous person’s adopted son, etc etc. And then… Ra’s Al Ghul shows up. Now it’s time for Bruce’s past to be revealed. He had traveled the world, and he did have many teachers, but none quite as legendary as the Demon’s Head, leader of the League of Shadows. A secret organisation (cult, really, Bruce later realised) that had mastered martial arts, ninjutsu, and so much more. Each member was a peak specimen of the human race, with no genetic weaknesses or flaws, especially their leader, Ra’s. Bruce had been one of his top students, but then he had revealed his grande scheme for the world. Ra’s wanted to wipe out the rest of humanity (which he deemed as impure and flawed) and then the only people who would be left to inherit the Earth would be his perfect family and his perfect followers! All he was missing was a male heir to his throne. His daughter, Talia, most perfect of his children, had fallen in love with Bruce during his time in the Shadows, but before anything serious could come of it, Bruce had snuck out and left the League, meaning never to come back. Now, though, Ra’s had found him and wanted him to marry his daughter. Bruce refuses. Ra’s tries to take him by force, Robin helps save the day, it’s a big exciting grand finale to the season, and it ends with Ra’s and Talia retreating… because while Bruce was captured, they managed to steal some… “DNA”… and test tube baby Damian would be thus conceived, unbeknownst to Batman and Robin.

(Like, he’s a test tube baby from conception. Talia was never physically pregnant with him.)

Anyway, things are looking up for our main characters. They saved the city, they saved each other, they’re working on their personal growth, and everyone is excited to see Season 2 because—

JOKER TEASE!!!! DUN DUN DUN!!!!

I’mma make more posts, this is a long one, strap in…

I also have a sketch of Talia…

Part 2 👇

#dc #dc comics #batman #bat family #bat brothers #fandom #fan fiction #head canon #Gotham Files #Bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth

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archive-of-alexandria · 1 year

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Grease Paint (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing on Tumblr in over 10 years, but I am so down bad for this man that I can't help myself. I'm working on drafting my Moulin Rouge! x Buggy long-form fic, and this was just something I scribbled out in the meantime. This is pure Buggy x Reader fluff, so I hope you enjoy!

***

For once in his life, the ever-flashy clown pirate has nothing funny to say.

Your thumb gently ran along Buggy’s cheek to correct your lines, and the genius jester felt the greasepaint being very obviously replaced by his own maddening blush. Your tongue pokes out in concentration, and he fights the urge to grab it between his fingers – haHA! Cat got your tongue! – and spoil the mood with a poorly concocted joke.

Buggy blinks.

….Mood? Who said anything about a mood?

A blush begins to bloom under his collar. Buggy had, in fact, been planning a way to weasel his way into your heart for months - and it seems as if you'd fallen right into his brilliantly scripted scene....so how come he can't remember any of his lines?

You continue working, and Buggy’s usually frantic mind suddenly falls deafeningly silent. Instead, the captain seems to fall into a sort of trance – focusing the entirety of his attention on memorizing your face. He observes every freckle and crease, wishing to commit it to memory. This was the first time -the only time - he’d ever been this close to someone in this…domestic…way, holding his breath out of fear that the illusion of contented bliss would shatter.

Buggy swallows.

He had planned for this, written out every charming and witty line he could think of.

Your eyes catch hold of his through the fan of your eyelashes. Now it was time for your ears to turn pink.

“You’re staring,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and Buggy practically melts as your eyes soften, “Something on my face?” As if on cue, a strand of hair falls in front of your eyes.

God.

He clears his throat, a soft chuckle rippling off his lips, “Well, now there is,” he muses, “Talk about a paid actor.”

You reach to push the hair from your eyes at the same time as he does, fingers awkwardly colliding as soft chuckles and mumbled apologies spill from both of your lips. Still, your eyes hold one another.

You give way to allow Buggy to proceed, whose deft fingers trace along your forehead and behind your ear. Buggy feels electricity shoot through his hands at the feeling of his touch against you, swallowing as he allows his knuckle to caress your cheek. When you seem to lean into his touch, however, he panics.

It would seem he failed to write that into the script.

Buggy barks out a laugh, gently nudging your face and making a pop! noise with his lips to try and swim back to shore before he’s too far gone. You grab hold of Buggy’s lipstick, the last bit of his flashy facepaint to be applied.

"And, for the finishing touch," You hum, taking his chin in your hands as you lean forward with his lipstick in hand.

Buggy's heart hammers against his chest as he feels your breath against his lips, the blood rushing to his ears in the same fashion as one hanging from a highwire.

At this moment, he indeed feels as if he is on the trapeze - delicately balancing with the hopes of making it through without a fumble.

“Doh–!” A chuckle passes through your lips, closing your eyes tight at the sight of Buggy’s comically crimson mouth. In the months that you’ve been a part of Buggy’s crew, you've never seen his makeup so fresh…and the sight was actually rather startling. It was as if the captain was in bad 3D, sponsored by technicolor, painted in by the most potent Crayola markers known to man. Buggy’s whole face looks crimson, but perhaps it's just a reflection of the brutal lipstick…

Buggy’s lips, like two bright cherries, suddenly form a pout at the sound of your laughter. His heart sinks, mind immediately skipping to the worst possible conclusion: You agreed to do his makeup not because you might care for him, but rather this was your chance to humiliate him. Buggy could feel his heart clench in his chest, and his delicate balancing act was about to turn into a dive routine.

“What?” He manages to quirk his lips into a strained smile, “You didn’t make me look like a clown, did ya-? Hrumph-!” His attempt at salvaging his pride is derailed by your thumbs pressing to his lips, your giggles giving way to a radiant smile. Little did he know that your fingers against his lips were just as much an attempt to quiet him as they were an excuse to touch Buggy.

“This color is so much more red than usual,” You say, your face growing warm, “What did I do wrong?”

A blink. Moments pass as Buggy stares at you with saucer eyes before his hands fasten themselves to your wrists with a gentle tug. Had you realized that your fingers were still attached to his lips?

“If you must know,” he gulped, “I have a top secret makeup technique.”

“Oh?” You feign surprise, leaning closer to your captain. A smirk twists into your lips. “Top secret, eh? Even from me?”

You bat your eyelashes, emboldened by your captain’s sheepish expression, and Buggy mutters a curse under his breath.

Oh, fucking fucking fucker fuck.

Buggy’s voice lowers and his grip on your wrists tighten, the creak of the supple leather breaking the silence. “Especially from you.” A blink passes with the realization that Buggy wasn’t cracking a joke or being wise. He genuinely seemed…embarrassed. You’re not deterred yet, and instead, he finds you leaning in closer as your legs involuntarily squeeze together – Just imagine what those gloves would feel like in your –

You’re nearly nose to nose with the dread pirate as the air settles thick. For months you and Buggy have fallen into the old routine of cat and mouse, always teetering on the precipice of…something. The way Buggy allows his eyes to follow you during your routine without shame and latches on to your figure like a predator observing his prey is undeniable. He relishes in watching your body twist and writhe on the acrobat hoop, and you'll admit that all of your special tricks are, indeed, for him. You live for the moments he would stalk up behind you after a performance during the roaring applause when no one would be able to hear his voice - low and thick - praise you with lips ghosting your ear: “What a good girl you are, hm? Making your captain proud.”

Your eyes fall to Buggy’s lips.

“Show me,” you swallow thickly, brushing your nose against his, “Show me your special technique.”

Buggy’s eyes flicker elsewhere – anywhere – from your gaze before deciding upon your own lips. His grip falters, his body erupting into flame as his eyelids flutter.

This was it: the climax of the show he has been planning and rewriting in his dreamworld for months. Buggy's flashy showmanship, however, deflates. Your hands are suddenly dropped from Buggy’s grip as he pulls back, redirecting his gaze to his now unoccupied hands. As he begins to peel off his gloves, the silence shifts into something unsettled. The fizzing tension between the two of you seems to thicken.

Meanwhile, Buggy is desperately trying to suppress an impending, raging hard-on. He already feels humiliated enough at the fact that you're laughing in his face, and now...

Cabaji had made fun of Buggy for weeks after discovering the wanted poster smeared in crimson red grease paint in Buggy’s quarters, your face barely visible beneath layers and layers of kiss marks. Buggy initially tried to cover it up, claiming it wasn’t intentional and he just needed something to “blot and perfect” his signature look with at call time. However, the sheer amount of kisses scattered across the page betrays him. There is no denying that Buggy was completely smitten with you. And here you are, practically begging him to kiss you. The set-up, the lead-in, the wind-up to the punchline…It is the perfect joke, all at his expense.

At least Cabaji hadn’t found the other copy of your wanted poster, crinkled and smeared thick with Buggy’s–

“Bugs?” Your hand on his thigh pulls the captain out of his thoughts, eyes darting up to meet yours with an unmistakable look of guilt as he tries to wipe away the memories of his moans and your wanted poster slick with his– “Are you okay?”

The clown clears his throat, finding the willpower to bring his fist before his face with a flourish as his humorless eyes settle on yours in an attempt to save face.

“For your viewing pleasure,” he forces a smile, “The technique!”

Without another word, Buggy begins to rub his lips back and forth vigorously against the top of his hand in order to remove the excess pigment.

Fuckingfuckinghellthisissostupidthey’regoingtofuckinghatemewhatamIevendoing–

His brilliant demonstration is put on pause as you take hold of his wrist, his gaze snapping up to meet yours. A sheepish grin attempts to cross his lips, but it falters. His eyes fall to the floor.

He looks ashamed.

“For once,” Buggy’s voice is hoarse as he huffs out a laugh, “I don’t have anything funny to say.”

A beat.

The intimacy of the moment is almost too much to bear, and your skin pricks with nerves.

“Buggy…” you breathe.

Your fingers find his face once again, tenderly wrapping around his chin. Buggy squeezes his eyes shut as you guide his face up to you. He refuses to see the expression in your eyes as you stomp on his glass heart. Suddenly you're cradling his head in both of your hands, “Buggy,” you mused, “I have a better technique to share with you.”

Your noses bump against one another.

A choking noise passes through Buggy’s lips, and in a moment of sheer desperation for tenderness he whispers, “Please.”

Your lips finally meet Buggy’s, and the awkward feeling of your body being too far away is overcorrected by the desperate captain. Buggy follows your lips with his body like a man possessed, knees knocking with yours as his arms swallow you whole. His hands find purchase wherever they can, trying to quickly grasp any and all of you as if you'd disappear. It's awkward, teeth knocking against teeth with the expertise of someone never before kissed, and you can't help the smile that comes to your lips.

You break away and Buggy’s breathing hitches, eyes still closed and hands gripping you so tightly you know you’ll have bruises.

You don’t mind, though. Quite the opposite.

You can always cover them up with a little bit of grease paint.

#buggy x reader #buggy fluff #buggy the clown #buggy imagine #opla buggy #i am so down bad #go burpy!#one piece #one piece imagine

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pixieimp · 2 months

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Okey, so adding more information to one of my other posts! This one

Kurt backstory in my now headcanon and why he was not an X-Men in Deadpool and Wolverine:

• We know Kurt backstory as Szardos, he was raised by a Romani family back in Germany which was part of a traveling circus where he performed as the Amazing Nightcrawler, their trapeze artist. (That's canon, the rest is not and it's just my mind) I think for that universe, Kurt would have a similar childhood but this time he and his siblings all have a good relationship. Stephan didn’t hate Kurt and they actually were best friends so no jealousy fight and death of Stephan making Kurt run away and to be found by Charles.

• When there is a change in the circus direction and Kurt is taken from trapeze artist to main star as the freak from the show, he is also chained and caged and often mistreated without Margali or any or his siblings being able to do much more than to sneak some food at that moment.

• After a particularly nasty overdose of sedatives and a brutal beating from the new Ring Master which almost kills Kurt, Margali makes a pack with a demon to magnify her own magical abilities and to be able to free Kurt. The Szardos family took Kurt to holy ground in a near by abbey where they left him to "clean the mess" at the circus. (The Szardos family starts then with both Margali and Jimaine witchcraft some sort of mob business)

• Kurt keeps in touch with the abbey as he works the grounds to help repay the kindly help from the brothers. At the same time people starts to look at him and to point in his direction as the result of "diabolical Romani magic". Little by little people starts to fear him and to hate him as Stephan starts to use Kurt image to scare people off.

• After Margali ends up doing connections with the Hellfire Club she takes her 3 children to America where they can have a better life out of little minded folk. The mob business goes smoothly well in their new home and they have a comfortable life where Kurt goes back to feel caged and like the freak when it’s clear that his presence it’s only important to keep up the image of demonic magic her mother and sister have adopted. After quite a big argument Kurt leaves his family in order to do good honest work.

• Due to his looks it's not so easy so once more he goes back to seek god's help, he never had a problem in the abbey even when many brothers were wary from him. So he ends up finding a small church where they give him a place to stay and live in exchange for a bit of handy work and help with some of the groups for "special people" (aka mutants)

• As the people from the church gets to feel more comfortable with Kurt around, the priest starts to let Kurt help with other groups of people and that's how Kurt and Al end up meeting (Kurt at that time was in his mid 20s when they met for the first time)

Logan’s first impression:

Kurt was immediately attracted to Logan, there was something in there that sang to his own soul. Even if the man was short in his responses (he didn't know that Logan was actually shocked to see someone who in his own universe loved so much) and more than once completely rude to Kurt himself and to others. Kurt still laughed it off and actually invited Logan to join one of the veterans’ group therapy seasons.

#kurt wagner #logan howlett #logurt #nightcrawler #wolverine #x men #nightwolves #logan x kurt #x men fic #ficlet #my own headcanon #deadpool & wolverine

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swee7dream · 4 months

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ilichil as agere caregivers ! nct 127 x f!reader

warnings feminine nicknames dni if you sexualize age regression in any way . author's note i guess this is my opening to start writing cg!127 and cg!wayv ! mahae can be found here and winwin's headcanons can be found in wayv's when it's out .

moon taeil (´ ∀ ` *)

he’s just so entranced with you and age regression in general.

“wait, that’s a thing you can do?”

he can’t keep his eyes of you when you’re feeling tiny, not because he thinks you’re in trouble or anything, but because he views you as the cutest thing in the whole world!

a grandpa-like caregiver. loves pinching your cheeks and pretending to eat you up! nom nom nom

not a big title user. he’s just moonie and ur his kid! his baby :3 his precious bit of starlight

got a rocking chair just to sit in with you to sing you lullabies when you have trouble sleeping!

what’s the opposite of an iron fist? that’s taeil.

if it’s past bedtime and you’re small or you don’t want to eat a certain food on your plate, you can bet one of two things will happen: a) he just lets you do what you want or b) bribes you with a sweet treat

you can try to bribe him in return the few times he puts his foot down, but he’s surprisingly firm. he’s not a pushover by any means.

“please?” you bat your lashes at him.

“no.” the little bugger puffs his cheeks right back at you.

the worst at playing with dolls /lh

“oh no, we got kidnapped!” you gasp, moving the bingo mini figurine in your hand.

“oh no...” taeil moves bandit in his hand with a voice lacking so much emotion it’s actually impressive.

he’s doing his best. try playing pretend instead! (he likes playing doctor the most)

seo youngho (￢‿￢ )

you got him wrapped around your finger! not that he’ll ever admit it

saw a cute dress? he got it for you. your stuffie’s arm ripped? he’s learning to sew for you.

purposefully hides pieces of the puzzle you’re building and feigns innocence just to see you get mad when you find out his schemes

“how’d that happen?” he pouts, cocking his head to the side.

if he every truly upsets you, he’s quick to apologize, pulling you into his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheeks until you’re laughing again because it tickles so much and he’s holding you so tight you can’t get away!

johnny loves being called daddy! he’s your daddy and you’re his babygirl!

loves cheesy, old-fashioned nicknames like honeybun, buttercup, cupcake… he just thinks you’re sweet, is what he’s trying to say

he loves when you sit on his lap and show him the coloring pages you finished while he was gone. he’ll make up stories off them like the purple elephant that wants to be a trapeze for the circus!

another big fan of playing pretend

his favorite game is dinosaurs, stomping around the house in slow motion with an evil toothy grin. you always manage to sneak away from his t-rex arms somehow but he’ll get you one day!

but johnny isn’t just a big goof. he knows when to put his foot down and is more 50-50 with it rather than taeil’s 90-10.

“i said no. put that back, please.”

his serious voice never fails to cause a shiver up your spine, settling you down within seconds.

when you finally decided to tell johnny, it took a minute for him to understand what exactly age regression is but kept the line of communication open. very open.

once, you were at work and your screen lit up with a message notification from him reading ‘do you like pacifiers?’

you almost beat him up

lee taeyong (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

worrywart !

doesn’t wanna make your regression feel even the slightest bit off. prioritizes your safety and comfort

at the beginning, taeyong as a cg can be seen as… a bit much

in preparation for his first time caring for you when small, he bought so many things. just anything he saw mentioned just once in all of his research of agere.

from itty bitty gear to middle/teen gear, bubu bought it all. if you don’t use any gear at all and have the ice cold heart to tell him so, you watch the color drain from his face.

poor guy

he just likes to be prepared. there’s nothing he likes more than a good plan.

cooking together is always so much fun. never lets you near the knives or heat but likes to keep you around to be his taste tester!

“what do you think, sweet pea?” “so yummy, bubu!”

loves doing crafts with you, particularly finger painting. you do it regularly, always forgetting that taeyong’s going to make you take a bath when the two of you end up with paint all over your faces and clothes

if you are allow it, taeyong is great with bathtimes !! he’s got rubber duckies and bath crayons to play with while he washes your hair.

cackles like a witch with a cauldron when adding a bathbomb to the bathtub, saying he’s preparing ‘baby soup’

“mommy, stop bein’ creepy.” “sorry, bug (っ- ‸ – ς)”

nakamoto yuta (￣ω￣)

“so yeah, it was just me and this big panther booking it down the forest to get away from this bear.” “and then?!” “i dunno i made it up :3”

an evil, evil man that takes advantage of your imagination during your tiny time to make up stories only to not finish them!

“what do you think would’ve happened next, baby?”

evil, but a good storyteller that gives you ideas for games nearly everyday you suppose….

loves playing dress up and salon

learned to do your hair! it’s an ongoing process… how did you end up with one low bun and one high? don’t ask

your breath hitches because he pulled a little too tight and he drops everything. are you okay? are you crying? he’s sorry, so so sorry. you know what? let’s have ice cream for dinner

likes listening to acid black cherry while doing your (v-kei) makeup! lets you sit on his lap when its your turn to do his

“daddy’s making you a total rockstar, baby.”

lets you draw on him! might get one (or several) of your doodles tattooed on his skin permanently just because he likes it so much

cuddling is his true life’s passion. takes out all the pillows and blankets in the house to make a pillow fort for movie nights. if he has any left over he uses them to wrap you up into a burrito

kim dongyoung （´▽｀）

just smile and wave, doyoung, smile and wave

maybe he shouldn’t have introduced you to his friends… they help add to your mischievous streak

“bunny? kangaroo! …pogo stick?” “doie… ‘s obviously you.” “me?” “yeah! when you can’t get the stuff on the top shelf at the the store so you did like this. ‘member? doie so bad at charades...” “:D ?!”

simultaneously the most competitive and worst player when it comes to video games

says he’s gonna win as you load up animal crossing like ….? okay gramps

hates when you call him that so you do it as much as possible because you live to displease

always knows the right thing to say when you’re feeling big feelings that feel only bigger when you’re small

treats you like you’re made of porcelain, his fingers delicately wiping your tears away silently.

never tells you to not cry or to stop, just tries to makes the process of feeling your emotions as easy as possible by making sure you’re drinking as much water as you’re crying out and making sure nothing could trigger you further

when you first told him about your regression you weren’t sure what his reaction was gonna be. he just stared dead at you in silence for like 8 minutes and then whispered “yeah… that makes sense” to himself

what is that supposed to mean? you know as well as i

jeong yunoh o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

he really just wants you to think he’s cool

that’s his main thing. of course, you being comfortable and happy is first, but you thinking he’s cool is a close second

most of his cg work is actually done behind the scenes; trying recipes, researching agere tips, and learning different crafts so that when you’re finally little again he can see the sweet, sweet sight of your awe

if you two planned for you to have some tiny time after a long time spent without regressing because overwhelming stress and responsibilities, you can bet on jaehyun to have organized an entire mermaid scavenger hunt in your home at a 6pm on a wednesday evening

the reward is always a ticket for something like a veggie-free night or a warm hug (he’ll give them to you whether you have one or not)

he calls them baby tickets

yes, that’s really what he calls them. yes, he chose the name himself.

there’s a reason you don’t let him name your dolls or stuffies

you tried once, this is basically how it went:

“hyunnie, what you think?” “it’s a bear… and pink… what about bearie? like strawberry and bear. bearie, haha. get it?” “…”

likes being called mister! but it’s actually rare for you to call him anything other than hyunnie

“say ‘please’ and i’ll think about it.” “please, mist-”

he’s already swiping his card

dong sicheng ♡✧( ु•⌄• )

read here (when it’s published) !

kim jungwoo (☆^ー^☆)

the silliest!!!!! how can you not love snoopy

your number one supporter in every single thing.

“the way you colored the sky with cerulean blue instead of the standard blue is just a peek into the artistic genius mind you have, my dear. how is every single art piece of yours just flawless?”

your babbles? “you don’t say! you know, i never did like that scoundrel…”

loves playing doggy! he could be cleaning around the house but if you slip that dog ear headband on him he’ll drop everything to entertain you.

he’s shattered a few plates...

he’s the most loyal friend you could have. he herds all your sheep plushies together and sniffs out the clues to help you solve the mysteries!

he also lets you doodle on his face. he’s just so easy-going it doesn’t matter what. whiskers? meow! mustache? hm, yes, it’s quite becoming of him, he thinks. you stuck some gem stickers on his cheeks? he’s an alien from the moon.

likes playing pretend much more than playing with toys.

sulky when you choose to play with your dolls rather than him. when he’s literally right there!!! your best friend :(( your buddy :((

i don’t know how else to describe this other than a dog-like caregiver

energy is always up, even when its bedtime which can be counterproductive sometimes. although? not completely? he definitely helps you tire yourself out until you’re knocked out on the couch

his nickname for you is giggles !! your giggles are his favorite thing in the whole wide world and makes sure to tell you that often.

lee minhyung (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

read here !

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

read here !

extra ! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

cg!johnny+yuta is being hit with whiplash every two seconds because they can either be the sweetest people ever or pranksters from the deepest depth of WICKEDNESS AND DARKNESS. they always, always, always tag team too, so it’s not like you can run to one when they other is trying to tickle you to death

cg!jeno+jungwoo is what happens when a baby is left alone with an old, tired dog (jeno) and his younger brother that has all the energy in the world (jungwoo)

cg!taeyong+doyoung has the same power imbalance as djj, leaving doyoung groveling at the ground even when he’s supposed to be the one taking care of the others

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phoward89 · 3 months

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Based on this ask

Coriolanus Snow x Professor!Reader

University!Coriolanus Snow x Professor!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Obsession, cussing, rejection, angst, no happy endings, making out, kissing

You're 25 years old, live in Capitol City, Panem and work at the University as a professor. It wasn't your dream job, but yet again you never really even figured out what your dream job was.

But at least you're successful. Well, to a point considering you're single while all of your friends are married with children. But that's not your fault.

Really, it's not.

Your ex, Odysseus Odair, was a bit of a beach bum. His father owns a luxury cruise line based out of District 4, so the bronze haired Adonis prefers the sun, sand, ocean, and chilled out vibes of the fishing district over the glitz, glamor, and sophistication of the Capitol.

Couldn't pay you to leave the Capitol. Hell, you won't even leave to go visit your brother at the district base he lives on as an Officer in the Peacekeepers.

So that's why things didn't work out with you and Odysseus. He wanted to relocate to District 4 and live in a beach house, but you didn't want that. You have a good job and a nice apartment that you're not giving up to trapeze to a place where your children can be reaped for a death royale battle that's televised across the nation as a form of fucked up punishment for the war; the Dark Days.

But, as you understand from the grapevine, Odysseus is doing fine. He met somebody and they're having a baby.

If only you'd meet somebody.

It seems like all the eligible bachelor's your age are complete assholes.

Lucky you…

Maybe your soulmate got run over by a bus? What? You haven't met Mr. Right yet, so…

Coriolanus Snow’s favorite class at the University was yours and it wasn't because of the subject matter either. No, it's his favorite class because of you. Yes, he has a little crush on you.

Okay, that's a lie. Coriolanus is obsessed with you. So much so that he decides to approach you one day after class to see if you'll make good on an offer you extended in the beginning of the semester.

“Professor Halvir, I was wondering if you could perhaps tutor me.” Coriolanus told you, nearly scaring the shit out of you while you cleaned your blackboard- since you assumed all your students had left.

Jumping slightly and turning around, clutching the eraser in your dominant hand, you give Coriolanus a line of a smile. “Of course I'll tutor you, Mr. Snow. I did say that I can tutor any student that feels they need it.”

“That's very good to hear, Professor Halvir.” The platinum blonde smiles wide, all his teeth on display as his icy eyes twinkle- looking a bit unnatural, like a maniac serial killer or something.

“I have an open slot on Thursday afternoon at 4, does that work for you?” You ask your student, hoping that he wouldn't have another engagement during that time.

“That's perfect, Professor. I'll see you then.” Coriolanus smiles, showing off too many of his pearly white teeth to be considered polite, and walks out of your class with a bounce in his step.

Thursday afternoon at 4pm, right on the dot, Coriolanus Snow showed up at your office for his private tutoring session. He was polite and knocked on the door, to which you opened it and greeted him with a professional smile and told him to come in and have a seat. Which in turn resulted in the two of you sitting at your desk, books and notebooks open, as you discuss the course material. Material that Coriolanus didn't truly need help with, since he's highly intelligent and understands it completely.

The platinum blonde’s icy eyes wander down the v-neck of your shirt, checking out your cleavage. His tongue barely juts out and he subtly licks his lower lip. Oh, how Coriolanus loves titties; he just can't help, but want to see yours. He can tell by your cleavage that you must have beautiful tits.

Oh, and how he wants to see them right now.

Goddamnit, right now!

Coriolanus’ brain is nearly fried with thoughts of you as he scoots his chair closer to yours. He hooks his foot around your ankle, running it teasingly along your ankle bone, while slinging an arm around the back of your chair; essentially caging you in with his body. Coriolanus leans close to your ear, only to pur, “Professor, I think I'd rather have you tutor me in the art of lovemaking than in military political theory.”

“What?” You ask, taken aback by his smooth line.

Coriolanus’ hand began to caress your thigh as his breath tickled your ear. “You’re a very beautiful and intelligent woman; you've captured my attention and I’d like nothing more than to be with you.” His lips softly pressed against the sweet spot below your ear.

“Mr. Snow-” You begin to say, only for the platinum blonde to interrupt you with the request of, “Please, call me Coriolanus or Coryo.”

“Coriolanus, I'm your professor. It's not ethical for us to sleep together.” You told your student, struggling to get the words out of your mouth as his lush lips danced poetically up and down your neck.

“We're both consenting adults.” Coriolanus protests your rebuttal, his lips ghosting your skin. “There's nothing wrong with us giving into our desires.” He whispers against the hollow of your neck before nipping and biting at your collarbone.

“Coriolanus, we can't do this. I'd be jeopardizing my job.” You tell him around a wispy moan as Coriolanus’ hands start to massage and grope your breasts as he peppers kisses along your jawline.

Coriolanus’ head back and his icy eyes, blown black by lust, locked onto your gaze. “I'd never do anything to jeopardize your career, darling. I swear, I won't tell anyone about us; it'll stay a secret.”

Coriolanus was a very handsome man, a pretty boy with the looks of the ancient gods of the old myths, so it was hard to turn down such an Adonis throwing himself at you. But, you had to turn him down. It didn't matter that his kisses and touches were lighting a fire inside of you, it was too risky to do anything with him.

Shaking your head, you sigh, “I'm sorry, Coryo, but as long as you're my student we can't be together.”

Coriolanus was gutted at your rejection. He was so sure that you'd swoon over him. Girls always fell at his feet now that he was the heir to the Plinth fortune and had a very classic, sophisticated style that oozed old money. But you pushed him away in fear that an affair would ruin your career.

Fine, if your career's more important to you than he is then he'll let you have it. And he'll show you just what you're missing by turning down his proposition.

“Well, it looks like I don't need your tutoring after all, Professor Halvir.” Coriolanus coldly told you while untangling himself from you. “I'll leave you alone, darling, but mark my words you'll regret rejecting me.” He said before standing up and storming out of your office.

You felt horrible for rejecting him. And if things were different, you would've had no qualms with hooking up with him. But you can't risk your job; your reputation.

You can't help, but dread having to see Coriolanus during your next class. You're never going to be able to look at him the same way ever again after the way his kisses made you feel.

But the look in his baby blues when you rejected him will haunt your dreams. The platinum blonde man looked so broken, so betrayed by you pushing him away. You only hope that he doesn't dwell on the rejection; that it doesn't hinder his grades.

But unknown to you, the hots he has for you won't simply go away. And one day, many years down the road, you'll find yourself at a political fundraiser dinner party being thrown for Coriolanus as he embarks on a Senatorial campaign. But when he makes his next move, he'll make sure that his heart’s well locked away behind a brick wall.

Snow lands on top and one day he's sure he'll land on top of you. But right now you're the professor that he's obsessed with, but can't have.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @princess-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

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us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2 · 9 days

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My headcannons for what type of music the Batfam likes lol

Bruce: 40s love songs, mostly because Thomas and Martha are lovers of old music and art it’s a call back to Batman being such an old.. old character.

He also loves really, REALLY sad songs. Just straight depressing songs, like he knows all the lyrics to like the most downright suicidal songs ever.

Dick: he listens to very upbeat music, but like EDM and rap, he also loves circus music and really ridiculously old songs he knows all the words to “the flying trapeze” by heart ❤️

Jason: unironically his favourite album is Neil Cicirega's "mouth sounds" series of albums, he also would never admit it but he listens to Kikuo constantly. he's not a "fan" of vocaloid he just likes some songs. he also constantly listens to 80s and 70s hits as a call back to his character being popular in the 80s.

Tim: worst taste in music ever, he does NOT get the aux. it's all the most popular hits of the last 4 decades, for better or worse.

he also gets all the WE jingles stuck in his head, it's so bad.

it's mostly now video game OST's he got into FNAF lore at one point and actually solved it, and then got super into the music. he relates a bit too much, he calls Jason sometimes mike because they are both undead guys hellbent on keeping kids safe from the evils of this world, and Ra's afton because the bastard always comes back. he will BLARE "I hope you die in a fire" when working a Ra's case.

Damian: despite what he holds himself to he really likes the same fandom sorta music, video game lore was the only thing that Damien and Tim talk about, they have usually ZERO free time to watch or play games they just extrapolate wtf the game is about from their friends WITH free time. that being wally and bart.

so damien has a bunch of the living tombstones, classic Chinese and arabic music but mainly Pakistani, some 80s hits. 40s love songs because bruce is right they are really good, and some mislabeled cassette tapes\CD's Damien picks up on patrol that he likes.

Steph: she didn't really get a chance to listen to much music, since Cluemaster was a dick. but she did bond and learn to love Ballet music ever since Cassandra introduced it to her, she gets whole records and albums and buys one time releases on Ebay for herself and Cassandra. otherwise she just listens to audiobooks or podcasts when working.

Cassandra: TONS of ballet music along with classic Oprah music and theatre music, she goes to plays and pirates them, she listens to every single play or theatre music she can get her hands on. she listens to "rocky horror picture show" "the guy who didn't like musicals" "Coppélia" "Jesus Christ superstar" "The Mousetrap" any and everything. she adores it all, she and Steph are constantly looking for more records and plays to watch and pirate.

Barbara: weirdly enough 60s music, Jim rubbed off on her and she honestly just listens to all sorts of 60s sounding music, she had a Elvis phase where she just was constantly listening to Elvis, eventually she found out there was a TON of other 60s and 70s black artists who were ripped off by Elvis and started listening to them, she then eventually got into punk rock and rock and roll.

Harper: she is fully into the Gotham punk music scene, she literally is one of the biggest supporters of the Gotham punk scene. only random punk song CD's, videos she converted into CD's, old gothamite punk songs on vinyl, digital releases, she just has so much merch half she made herself and half she bought, she is the epitome of Gotham punk fan. she actually has a whole ass internet archive account dedicated to JUST Gotham punk.

Duke: weirdly he loves very ethereal and bright peppy music, only instrumentals though, listens to the weirdcore playlists on YouTube listens to corecore, he just has very strange music tastes.

sometimes he forgets his entire playlist is filled with weirdly ethereal music and the rest of the batfam get so confused, and think Jean-paul is blaring church music again.

Jean-Paul: only church music, he has the most bland music tastes, he sometimes listens to catholic metal or something when he's working but other than that he just blares organ music and mass and church music, everyone tries to tell him that he CAN LISTEN TO ANYTHING ELSE. PLEASE. but he just doesn't lol.

Thomas: he listens to 40s love songs and old Sicilian and Italian songs, he's a old fart, he loves old movie soundtracks.

William Cobb: circus music only circus music, late 1880s and 1950s circus music. it sounds like a clown house and it triggers the shit out of bruce.

Jarro: he's a baby, he has no actual opinions the batfam put on nursery rhymes andcoco melon

and the rest (carrie, Bernard, huntress and the other ones)

I have 0 idea I have not read enough comics to figure it out lol

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exhausted-exho · 21 days

Text

Thinking About Biker Pezzy

Like yes he actually owns and rides a bike. He literally just got a new one. BUT hear me out...

Imagine like stunt rider Pezzy. Like you're an acrobat in a circus and he's one of the daredevils. One of the guys who does the ramp jumps, stands on his bike as it moves around (in that move mimicking trick riders), rides around in the sphere.

Ugh like I know he said the other day he's never gonna be one to be going 100+ miles an hour because he values his life but just imagine you two being kids who grew up in the circus together. Close in age but from two different groups of practice so you never crossed all that much.

You remember first noticing him when you were 6. A few years older, already beginning to train in taking care of the bikes and learning the most basic moves. Meanwhile you were with the aerial team, beginning to learn different ground tricks.

The first time you guys interacted wasn't for years yet. You were 13 then, taking part in your first show. He'd already been in for a year or so and saw how nervous you were, wringing your hands in the wings as you waited for your cue to run on and climb the silks up to the trapeze swings.

"Hey, you'll do fine." Your eyes widened at the fact he was even talking to you. It didn't help that you'd been admiring him from afar for a while, beginning to harbor a little crush. "I was nervous my first show but it all comes down to muscle memory. Focus on that, not the crowd."

"I have to appeal to them, though." Your voice was small. Meek and anxious. "I don't have a helmet to hide behind like you do."

"True. But you've been helping with the kids parties and you do well with them. Just think of the crowd as a bunch of kids you need to entertain for a few minutes." You nodded, thanking him before hearing your cue and darting out onto the floor to begin your routine.

His advice had been helpful.

It was a few more months until you got a chance to cross paths again and it was due to being teamed up during a load out, moving crates together and packing the trucks.

It was during those long hours that you guys clicked. The two of you hanging out became commonplace after that. Every spare moment one of you had was spent around the other, even if the other was in rehearsals.

Which meant it only made sense.

The ringmaster wanted something new. Something fresh. Something that no one had ever seen before to generate larger audiences again. The circus had been dying in popularity the past few years. To keep everyone fed and on the team, he needed a new angle.

So you and Pezzy were the two he chose. The ones whose skills were to be combined for the new ending segment. The grand finale to top all else.

Who would've thought to put acrobatics on stunt riding?

Despite how insane it was, it worked out for the two of you. You got to spend most of your time together, now, and it just meant you got even closer.

He was used to the danger of stunt riding. You were used to the danger of heights and acrobatics. Combine the two and you're clinging to him for safety and he's keeping you grounded.

The most terrifying one wasn't even the dancing on the back of his bike while he rode the rings. Nor was it joining him for stunt jumps and doing your own tricks midair.

It was the sphere.

You stood planted in the center as he rode circles around you, one hand out to trace your waist as he spun, to keep track of you. A hand holding yours as you spun with him in a way reminiscent of figure skating.

It was the accident that had him making the first move. One day the ringmaster wanted you to change it up. To have a set of aerial silks halfway through a jump to grab onto. But even with all the rehearsals and successful shows, there was one day you missed the silks.

Your hands were sweaty, your arm was tired, the timing a bit off, the jump a bit too far to the side. It all combined in some cursed formation, causing you to fall twenty feet.

There were pads, but you landed just wrong, destroying your ankle.

You'd never seen Max so scared. So angry before. He just about tore the ringmaster apart for having the idea that got you hurt.

When you were finally able to get back into shows, he was anxious. Terrified it would happen again. Now that you'd gotten hurt, he had it in his mind constantly, always worried about the possibility that you could get hurt again from any little thing.

It lead to him pulling you aside before your first show back in and pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, muttering into your hair as he gave you the tightest hug.

"Be careful. Promise me you'll be safe."

"I'm with you. Of course I'll be safe."

"But last time-"

"Last time was an off day for everyone." You pulled back, cupping his jaw with both hands while his landed on your hips. "I trust you. Now let's go kick ass. Together."

He nodded. "Together."

You kissed his cheek and slipped away. He followed, grabbing your wrist.

"You're not leaving my side again. Last time you did you got hurt."

"What are you, my guardian?"

"Your boyfriend." He grinned nervously at your stunned expression. "If you'll let me."

You paused for a moment before smiling as wide as possible.

"We said together, didn't we?"

#frouse #drabbles #streamtube #twitch #pezzy #pezzy x reader #frouse x reader #biker #stuntriding #circus #acrobatics #injury #he's so cute #this is dumb #i love the circus #always wanted to be an aerialist

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paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 · 19 days

Text

This Is Home

Welp since todays my birthday and I still am trying to work on an action pack fic featuring Dick and Bruce, I thought today might be my chance to showcase what I consider quality wise probably my worst fic I ever made; a blithering and shameful amount of family and adoptive family fluff and tooth rotting sugary sweetness that’ll make unicorns drool. I actually debated for years putting this one out in public because it’s not only fluffy as hell but it rather super weird so I best put up content warnings anyways for your sakes.

Thanks a lot to my buddy @confusedhummingbird for giving me the encouragement to put this one up and giving me the chance to edit it for making it less weird as heck

Constructive Criticisms are welcome and then some and I thank you for your considerations

Dedicated to my other mutuals @pin-crusher2000 @celaenaeiln @spider-jaysart @camo-wolf @lightdusk96 @moonundernostalgia @starlightbelle @adalineozie @wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever

Warnings: SFW Tickling, Family Fluff, Quasi Family Bonding

The moon shined brightly on the simple, brown painted trailer with few windows on it. It was a bright, cool and calm night all around. A few mud puddles from today’s earlier rain showers dotted some parts of grassy fields the tents and other temporary buildings are set on. The ambiance of owls hooting, hearty laughs from the roustabouts and even the chuckles from a variety of younger talents across the grounds are a true delight to hear for any visitor of this one area, let alone those who work and live their lives here. Cracking open the trailer door slowly, a woman with dark crimson follicles tied into a ponytail that reaches to her shoulders, clad in a simple black cotton t shirt with and gray sweatpants, takes one simple step out of the trailer doorway, closes her bright ocean blue eyes and inhales a nice whiff of that air through her nose. That old smell, whether from the decent sized cages of the animals or the burning embers of lighted juggling sticks, reaches in, bringing a satisfactory feeling. This is her home; this is her life; this is what Mary Elizabeth Lloyd-Grayson thought for what a nice evening looks like. Lo and behold, it truly was.

For about a good 20 something years by now, ever since an integrating of her family’s own carnival act with this place, Haly’s Circus always remains the one traveling show Mary finds herself being reminded that she’s a part of. She cannot be any more happier; ever since her childhood of practicing on the ropes and bars of the flying trapeze alongside her own mother and their relatives, Mary always dreamed of being part of the show, no matter her act’s place on the runtime, whether opening act or the grand finale. Here she was now; her family act being the grand finale thanks a combination of their truly amazing acrobatic talent, charisma and the fact the patriarch, her husband John, acts as second in command for this circus. Now while some might claim draconian bull on that last bit, it takes a brief history lesson in knowing the Graysons ever since their far back roots in the mid 1800s always played a role in making this circus operate and continue to entertain hundreds of thousands globally. John is simply the latest of them to inherit the legacy and the responsibilities placed on him. Or rather, the latest grown member of the Grayson bloodline to do so since through her love for him and their marital bond, there is one other Grayson.

“Hey! You get back here, Calvin!” speaking of whom.

Mary notes of the two bundles chasing each other right in front of the trailer door and can’t help but laugh sweetly. One young lad sporting a black mop of hair with her bright blue eyes, clad in a red tunic covering a green scaly leotard and on his feet green pixie boots, was her son Richard, or Dick for short. The eight year old was now in hot pursuit of a ten year old lad with sporting light brown hair with similarly brown eyes, clad in turn in a white t shirt with grey sweat pants and simple sandals on his feet. Both boys have a mischievous grin on their faces as they dart past Mary and make their way carefully scaling up the trailer’s walls up to the rooftops, no doubt their game of tag escalating once more.

As Calvin lightly tags Dick on their rooftop of the trailer and the two safely descend back to the ground before resuming the chase, Mary can’t help but sigh surprisingly sadly for the kid her son was hanging out with at this moment. Poor, poor Calvin; about two years ago, during their latest stop at Haly’s Circus’ home city of Gotham, the little guy approached their trailer door looking in more ways than one, pretty miserable. Not too long ago, the man who was his father locked the kid into a dog kennel for whatever bull reason. From what Calvin told them that man simply walked away and never came back, leaving the boy simply to live out the rest of his days in the cage with no chance for escape. Except beyond expectation and with some good luck, Calvin did escape. Noticing a small chink in the chain holding the kennel door in place, Calvin used a decent sized rock into pounding away that chink in a calm state before finally the chain collapsed. The kennel door swung open, allowing the then eight year old Calvin to make a run for it. The kid ran in the cold and desolate rain storm that poured over Gotham that night, far away from that damn cage until at one point, his legs can’t run anymore.

It was there Calvin came across the Flying Graysons’ trailer in the adjacent Gotham Memorial Park, as part of the circus preparing for their performances the upcoming weekend. Upon noticing the windows of the trailer with the lights on, indicating someone inside, Calvin at first was tempted to knock on their front door before realizing that maybe they won’t take him since he is for intents and purposes a complete stranger. So, he just lied next to the steps of the trailer door until the rain clears up. Or at least he was until suddenly the door opens, a six year old Dick Grayson peering his head outside the door and seeing the shivering, bloodied fisted and soaked Calvin Rose right in front of him. Now cracking the door slightly more open upon realizing who it was, Dick calls for his parents in a thick language Calvin doesn’t understand. Next thing he knows, the two parents almost immediately have Calvin walk in, Mary draping a thick warm blanket over his shoulders, John lightly telling him to sit at the nearby couch and Dick heating up a bowl of his mother’s chicken soup she made earlier just for him.

Ever since that night, Calvin became a very welcome addition to the greater family. Not only does he possess an amazing ability to escape from any trap and restraint on par with the great Harry Houdini, Dick had found a friend next to his age he can go to, someone who understands his own plights and words they way no grown-ups can. In a way, Dick had gotten a pseudo older brother that day. While Calvin’s escape act and the Flying Graysons’ trapeze have their own distinct places on the show time, those two are nearly inseparable.

A squeal belonging to Dick snapped Mary out of her thoughts. Looking to her right, she can see the two kids tussling with each other in the nearby mud puddle. She chuckles heartily as Calvin and Dick take turns pinning each other playfully, poking at each other’s ribcages and bellies and lightly slapping some mud on their faces. As the old saying goes, ‘boys will be boys’. Though, looking at her watch and taking of the time, it was indeed getting a bit late for the boys being boys. Wasting no time, Mary heads for her son’s bedroom, opening the dresser next to his bed, fetching out a clean black t shirt with grey sweat pants not unlike hers and his indoor sandals. Mary gets back to the door just as the two kids lay on their backs on the grassy field, panting heavily with smiles on their faces, covered head to toe in mud and just looking at each other before doing a fist bump. Taking it as her cue, Mary lightly knocks on the steel door of the trailer, drawing their attention.

“Alright you two, you should probably get to the showers. It’s almost 8 pm right now”

While Calvin might not speak lovari Romanes chib like Mrs. Grayson and Dickie can, he does understand it to get what they say.

“Really?” he asks.

“Uh huh”, Dick nods, “You better go first and…”

Mary lightly chuckles and presents the fresh clothes on her hand, “Actually Little Robin, while you two were having your brawl, I got these for you. No son of mine would wait for his chance to rinse off before his buddy does”

While Calvin was having a good laugh at the apparent blushing on Dick’s face, the latter almost shrugs it off and makes sure his hands are clean of mud before grabbing the clothes from his mother and makes his ways to the shower trailer. As Dick makes his way, Calvin gives a quick thumb up to Mary as he heads back to his own trailer to grab his own clean laundry. Or rather, right before he does so, he slows down his walking speed and has a pondering look on his face. Mary takes immediate note of it and walks over to him. The grass lightly brushes her bare feet as she reaches her right hand on Calvin’s right shoulder.

“Is there something on your mind, sweetie?” she asks with a tad bit of concern on her part. Being more or less a mother for him, of course she would.

Calvin brushes the toe of his sandal on the grass before having his brown eyes look up to Mrs. Grayson’s blue ones. “It’s nothing Mrs. Grayson, really just some thought about something but nah; don’t wanna bug you about it”

“Did you think about spending tonight with us, a sleepover?” Calvin’s eyes slightly widen a bit upon realizing Mrs. Grayson knew exactly what he was thinking. But before he can start trying to brush it off, Mary just gives him a warm smile and starts lightly ruffling his hair instead.

“Well,” Calvin asks before once more having a sincere look on his face as stares up to Mary, honestly expecting the worst, “can I?”

Mary almost wastes no time in giving an answer. “John’s out to town with Mr. Haly for tonight and we have a day off from practice tomorrow. So pretty much….Yeah, you can”

Calvin leapt into the air in joy with a fist in the air and was about to hug Mary before realizing how mud covered he was, instead simply rubbing the back of his head with slightly embarrassment. “Just make sure you get your laundry ready for your turn in the showers after Dick rinses up and try not to tell him if you run into him. How about we keep it a surprise?” Mary whispers the last part to him with a wink of her eye. Apparently, she has a bit of mischievous side too. With his own eye wink and a thumb up, Calvin darts back to his trailer. Mary walks back to the door, wiping her bare soles on the front carpet before steeping back in.

About half an hour or so later, Dick entered the trailer door, clad in his clean clothes and his jet black hair moistened though not nearly as much before Dick dried most of it with his towel the showers had. Mary notices however, of Dick preparing to just simply walk in before she gestures to him a certain something. Pointing to her soles, Dick gets that his mother says to wipe the soles of his sandals before walking in or take them off since while he avoided the mud puddles on his way back, the grass wasn’t going to do favors for this family trailer’s carpet. Rather than what he usually does in which actually involves wiping said sandals, Dick just lets them slide off his otherwise bare feet before stepping into the trailer. Dick makes then his way to the kitchen, climbing up the countertop right underneath the cupboards where the plastic glasses are then upon grabbing one, back flipping off said countertop and opening up the fridge door behind him for the jug full of simple water. As her son pours some of the clear liquid into his cup, no doubt for a drink before and/or after getting some sleep, Mary suddenly picks up on a few knocks on their trailer door. The pattern of said knocks is familiar; she knows who’s waiting at the front. Her surprise had arrived.

“Dickie, can you please get the door? I think there’s someone waiting for us”

With a quick salute, Dick raced back to the front door, proceeding to lightly open it, being on his guard while showing a friendly face just in case. Mary simply has a soft smirk in her face without even looking behind her to the scene playing out as Dick lets out an excited gasp for their visitor. There was Calvin, his hair similarly wet and now clad in a clean set of fleece pajamas with sandals on his feet, having a small backpack with his night stuff on his right shoulder and smiling equally as excitedly due to the look on Dick’s face. As the young Rose takes off his sandals out of courtesy before stepping inside, the little Grayson was able to piece together that Calvin will be crashing in with them for the night; looking back to his mother and getting a silent yet all too happy nod from her only confirms such. Dick also remembers it was a day off from practice for tomorrow and a weekend on top of that meaning that Calvin and he have the night to themselves.

Over the next hour, Mary can hear all sorts of chatter and noise coming from Dick’s bedroom, most of them was the two playing on Dick’s game system trying to either outdo one another if playing against each other or give each other aid and instruction to help each other if paired as a team. In the middle of their fingers slamming the controller buttons or hoping on and off Dick’s bed on a moment of excitement, the two engage in small talk on a variety of things. Whether it is the how the elephants can use some free roam every once in a while in spite of what kind of trouble they can get into should said elephants stampede on accident, which of these ‘superheroes’ is better, being either this ‘Woman of Wonder’ that apparently travels the world or Metropolis’ ‘Superman’. Both conclude though one thing: there’s no way this ‘Batman’ in Gotham can be real. Maybe he’s just a bedtime story to get the kids over there to behave like the Court of Owls or something. At one point, Calvin and Dick thought that maybe they can try combing their respective acts into one. Like say, Calvin is in a straight jacket suspended about 30 to 40 ft in the air while Dick stands by at a nearby platform with a trapeze bar in hand. From there, once Calvin of course frees himself from the straight jacket within a few minutes, Dick swings over to him, does the triple or even the quadruple flip and right as Calvin slips out and begins to drop from the height. When Calvin starts dropping by a single inch, He reaches out with his arms for Dick to catch him and swing them both back to safety. ‘The Great Swinging Escape’ they call it as Dick and Calvin laugh it off. Mary chuckles to herself when hearing that from her own room next door, actually finding herself intrigued and maybe with some heavy practice and a safety net for even their actual performance that can work. Of course, all parties involved will need a good convincing to Mr. Haly for that to happen.

By the time, an hour goes by; Mary can clearly hear her son and his friend apparently lacking any tiredness on their part. While they have the night to themselves, the two will have to start lying down for the night at some point. Those two are just full of such energy and stamina, only something than can tire them out can do the job. At least though, their energy finds itself expended on either their chatter with each other or Dick’s videogame.

Wait a minute….game, Mary thought to herself. She starts piecing something in her mind and thinking back to something. In particular, her childhood is what she thinks about…..hey yeah. She remembers that during her days as a Soaring Lloyd the way her own mother would tire her out. Her son’s maternal grandmother will play one type of game nearly every night up till her teenage years. It was a game of endurance and stamina. All needed were their family blankets, bits of string, a feather or two, their own hands, and a jar to place their bets, whether being money tips from their shows or necklace beads. One crux of this game though would mean someone who knows how to wrap blankets around a person that’s mostly inescapable. It cannot commence fully if the participant moves out of the way. Mary though of how her own mother trains the way she wraps her daughter in those blankets neatly and tightly enough to an extent Mary cannot simply run away should her endurance in this game fails but always felt as if she can just bail out if she wriggles enough for the blankets to loosen. To ensure the willing participant cannot escape one the flimsiest of movement and fully use their endurance, Mary will need someone who knows a thing or not about inescapable. What better choice than the Youngest Escape Artist in the World who just right now beaten Dick on their round on that videogame.

Mary calls out to the two after she can hear Dick’s game system turning off. “Alright you two, I think it be a smart idea to brush your teeth if I were you. You don’t wanna sleep with germs in your mouth tonight.”

“Aw, come on”, she can hear Calvin groan; “we really have to do it now? How about another hour? ”

“Well Rose, I didn’t say go to bed right away afterwards now did I?” Mary responds cheekily.

Calvin opened to reply only to realize on what he heard before she clarified herself. “Yeah, my bad Mrs. Grayson”, he says sheepishly and a soft chuckle.

Letting a chuckle of own in kind, Mary then calls to her son while in her room, looking through her necklace making kit for strong enough bits of string to use. “Richard, you go in first while your friend gets his toothbrush okay?”

“Sure thing, Momma” Dick replies happily before quickly turning to his friend, “I won’t take too long okay Cal?”

“Take your time, Dickie” Calvin says, “I can wait. I saw enough bad teeth around here that make my own teeth get cavities. Don’t wanna see you get it too” he remarks, making Dick laugh as the latter heads toward the trailer’s bathroom.

While Calvin looks through his travel backpack for that toothbrush, he notices Mary at the bedroom. Tellingly, she sports a bit of a smirk on her face. She recent has an idea, an idea for some mischief, and Calvin mostly has a role in it. At first, he sports a curious look on his face, thinking he’ll be the target for something. That immediately exits out of his thoughts as Mary approaches him regularly; no, what she has in mind is something completely different.

“Calvin, if you don’t mind at all, I need you help in something. It’s a little idea I have in mind for Dick but I’m sure you both are going to like this” Mary whispers excitedly to him, low enough in which Dick can’t hear them.

Calvin, now knowing that Dick will be the target instead of him, raises an eyebrow raised and a small smirk grows on his lips as well. “So, you do you have in mind Mrs. Grayson?”

“Well…” Mary says before almost muting her words via very softly stating them in his ear. As she explains her secret plan to Calvin in full detail, that smirk on his face grows into a more mischievous grin. Oh yeah, now that sounds like something he can do. As Calvin, nods his head, indicating a yes, Mary hands Calvin the piece of string she brought with her from her necklace set and begins loosening some of Dick’s blankets and bed sheets.

Around five minutes later, Dick finally steps out of the bathroom after rinsing off his teeth and makes his way back to bedroom. Along the way though, he can hears some whispered chatter between Calvin and his mother coming from there. He wonders what those two are up to since among the whispers, he can hear some light hearted laughter, meaning it was a plan alright. Most likely, it has him in the center of it. He might be only 8, but Dick’s not dumb. With a smirk on his face, he can try surprising his mother and his friend before they can do whatever they wish with him. Now stepping on his tip toes, Dick sneakily makes his way to the door to his room completely out of sight from his mother and Calvin, quietly standing next to the door out of sight. Should either his mother or Calvin start making their way out to check on him, he can unleash an ambush via a playful tackle and using his fingertips on their ticklish spots to pin them. As he spots Calvin making his way to the door after hearing his mother tell the former to check if he was doing okay, Dick snickers lightly, sticks to the shadows….

“Nice Try, Dickie!” happily exclaims Calvin while playfully grabbing Dick in a bear hug, causing the latter to squeal laughing, out of the shadows and onto his bedroom floor, trying to pin him. Of course having play wrestle him earlier tonight, Dick picks up on his friend’s pattern on how he pins him via pokes on his sensitive ribs. Not this time though as Dick cleverly slides out of Calvin’s reach and targets his own fingers on Calvin’s soles. Upon the first poke of that fingertip on his soft skin on his left foot’s arch, immediately Calvin yelps into a bubbling laugh of his own and topples face first onto the floor. Seizing the chance, Dick sits on his knees upon Calvin’s pinned legs, wraps his left arm around Calvin’s ankles, bringing these feet up to him and using his free hand, starts scribbling his fingers all across whatever spots on Calvin’s bare feet he can find.

While pinned and finding himself outmaneuvered by his younger counterpart, Calvin barely focuses on such a turn of events since those laughs are erupting out of his mouth like there’s no tomorrow. For good reason though, since out of all the places on his body he was sensitive, it was his bare feet. Now his friend goes all out with the velvet like skin on his soles, the pads of his ten toes and perhaps worst of all, the stems of said toes in which just tiny poke on them sets off a certifiable explosion of nerves being tickled all across Calvin’s body. Thankfully, before Dick’s free hand can make it to those stems on his toes, Mary cheekily tells her son to stop.

“Now, now Little Robin, let’s save tickling Calvin for a little later. We can’t have him pass out right now.”

Dick looks back to his mother with wide grin on his face before loosening his grip on Calvin’s ankles, letting his feet drop to the ground and giving the older boy a chance to breathe. It’s then though that Dick also notices his mother sitting on his own bed, more or less confirming what he had been hearing on his way back from the bathroom.

“So”, Dicks asks the two as they both smile mischievously picking up on the fact he’s onto them, “what do you to have in mind for right now?”

As Calvin grabs his toothbrush and makes his way to the bathroom for his own teeth brushing, Mary pats her hands on Dick’s bed, saving a seat for him. “Oh, nothing too big at all son; I just noticed both Calvin and you seem like you two can stay up all night if you want too, right?”

Dick nodded his head happily, “Yeah, Cal and I can stay up till the sun goes up Mom. There isn’t anything make us tired. No sir-ee.” That little boast more or less had Dick firmly in exactly where Mary wants him, easy prey for her little game. It was time to let the cat slip out of the bag for this one.

“Well, Little Robin, when I was your age, I thought the same thing on nights like this. So you would like to know what my mom did to me whenever I said I can stay up till to the sun came up?” she asks with a cheeky grin in her face.

“Nope, what was it?” Dick asks now genuinely curious.

Now for the bombshell, “Oh, Your grandma and I would bet something in a jar then she’ll have me wrapped up very tightly in the blankets.”

Dick asks, figuring out where this might be going, “Does the bet say something about how long you can last without getting too tired?”

Mary nods happily, as she fills in the blanks, “More or less, how long can you handle like say, your feet getting a good tickling until you either fall asleep or say you quit.”

Dick’s eyes widen with excitement upon hearing the answer but before he can act, Mary quickly slips her hand onto the soles of Dick’s right foot and begins lightly scratching it, ‘Like this!”

Almost immediately, a squealing laughter bubbles out of Dick’s mouth and he falls backward onto his bed, kicking his legs frantically to get his mother’s fingertips off his sensitive skin on that area. Quickly calming down and in-taking some air, Dick smiles happily towards his mother, now knowing the full picture of what Calvin and she have in mind. With that in mind, sure, he’s sensitive, the fact is Dick’s a Grayson through and through, he can handle soaring through the air on some ropes without a safety net below, and he can handle this for sure.

“So, want to give a try Little Robin?” Mary asks sweetly while cracking her fingers. “It’ll be perfectly fine with me if you don’t want…”

Rather than wait for her answer, Dick simply got underneath the blankets, place his head on the pillow on one end of the bed and stuck his two soft velvet soled bare feet out of the other end of the blankets where his mother was.

“Now just wait a minute Dickie” Mary says while playfully grabbing one of her son’s big toes lightly causing the latter to giggle lightly in turn, “I’d say we spice this up a bit by making it a game of who can last longer.”

Within the next minute, Calvin had stepped back into the bedroom out of his teeth brushing, noting almost immediately of Dick already in position. Now with his own smirk upon realizing what this means, he cracks his fingers and he too trudges unto the bed. Rather than go underneath the blankets, Calvin begins grabbing the ends of the bundle Dick is within and begins wrapping them up in a zigzag like pattern across the acrobat’s swaddled torso, arms and legs. Finally, after nearly two minutes of careful wrapping, he finishes off Dick’s fluffy restraints with a simply tucking in of a corner in his right side.

“Alright, Dick” Calvin says with his arms crossed and proud of his work, “try getting out of that.”

Sure enough, as Dick attempts doing so via wriggling around and trying to slide the blankets off him, nothing moved by a single inch. Indeed, Calvin’s restraining technique had worked, the little Grayson finds himself more or less completely trapped. All that Dick move at all were his head against his pillow and the toes of his two feet in which even then can only fan out or clench tightly, the latter of which he was doing now in anticipation for both his mother and his friend’s next move.

While Mary grabs a small empty nearby jar and placing it on top of Dick’s dresser, Calvin gets a small notepad and a pen to write down their bets. They are made rather quickly since let’s face it; they just want to get started already. Dick bets he can last for 1 hour of nonstop scribbling and poking on his feet, saying that should he lose, he owes his mother three straight nights in a row of doing the dishes after dinner and getting Calvin any ice cream next time they see a place to get some. Then the other shoe drops. “You have anything in mind you want to bet on for yourself, Calvin dear?” Mary asks. Cal’s face brightens up almost instantly since he knows he can participate as well. It was a chance he wasn’t going to back down on. Using a second small note paper, he write a bet of his own: Whereas Dick supposedly can last 1 hour, Calvin bets he can last 2 hours, should he lose, he owes the Graysons an entire dinner from a nearby take out joint one day and be the one getting ice cream for Dick instead.

Mary takes the two bets written in note paper, placing them that jar while Calvin hops onto the bed right next to Dick, getting his own set of blankets he brought with him to wrap himself in, and likewise poking his head out one end and his bare feet on the other. Mary tucks Calvin’s blankets around him tightly yet comfortably thanks to Calvin instructing her on the same technique he used to restrain Dick beforehand. Sure enough, like Dick, Calvin finds himself only capable of moving his head on his pillow and his ten toes, the latter only able to fan out or clench.

All preparations done, Mary finds herself staring at quite a sight indeed: before her blue eyes was what seems being a massive of well woven cotton and fabric sheets with two tousled heads poking out of one end and four perfectly formed feet out of the other. One pair of those feet was only a mere centimeter bigger than the other, with a tiny bit of callus on the balls and heels but otherwise was perfectly normal with their smooth curving arches and soft texture everywhere else for a growing lad like Calvin Rose. For the other pair, while slightly if at all smaller, the soles, arches and stems of the toes uniquely had a lighter skin tone in comparison to the tops, and with slightly longer toes in comparison to Calvin’s in which while not stubby, they had less space to poke those stems of said toes. Otherwise, Dick’s own feet, usually well maintained via applying skin lotion on them every other few nights before bed, had the same features as Calvin’s had. Overall, the two pairs of feet poking out of the mass of blankets before her made them all the enticing Mary’s mind to give in to them a nice motherly rub and then some. Frankly, with the addition of all twenty toes wriggling, fanning out and clenched in anticipation, really it was just those four feet saying ‘hey, give us your best shot, we dare you’ right to her. So, with her two hands descending on those four lovely feet, her left set upon Calvin’s and her right on Dick’s, Mary was indeed giving it her best.

She starts slow and methodical; running her index fingertips on the smooth soles of Calvin’s left foot and Dick’s right foot. The toes on each respective one clenched down followed by fanning outward and from there repeat slowly. Already, soft and bubbling giggles erupt from both boys, Calvin even clenching his mouth shut to prevent those precious giggles from escaping completely. Dick fared slightly worse with an ability in holding back the giggles already bubbling out of his mouth. Of course, though, Mary was just merely warming up. Next thing, the speed and number of her fingertips rubbing against the soles of all four feet grow per minute, leaving both Calvin and Dick now laughing slightly louder and far less ability to control it.

There was practically no spot on those soles, heels, or the balls of their feet left untouched by Mary’s darting fingertips. No matter how clenched or fanned out those four feet were, she continues onward. By now, the laughing from the two boys was at a consistent yet loud enough level that said laughter starts blending in a synchronized manner. From the looks of it to further this whole thing, neither showed any sign of fatigue so far. Mary does have to give Calvin and her son credit, about twenty minutes in, they have no quit in them. So now, it was time to escalate things a tad bit.

“Calvin, dear”, the mother asks while calming the frequency of her fingertips, softening a bit of the immense tickling and allowing the two to breathe a bit while still laughing their heads off, “do still have that string from earlier?”

“On…the…drawer….behind you…” Calvin was barely able to say in between his laughing, bopping his head to his right slightly to point Mrs. Grayson in that direction. Sure enough, there was the necklace just sitting on the corner of the piece of wooden furniture, perfectly intact. Originally, the string would find use for one person’s pair of bare feet on this occasion but now that they’re two, Mary decides to very quickly grab another one from her necklace in her room, giving the boys a chance to catch their breath. Not easy considering that scratching from Mary’s fingertips left phantom tickles they can still feel, causing them to still giggle intensely.

Calvin turns his head slightly to Dick’s direction, breathing out some giggles while having a slight smirk on his face. “Ready….to quit….Dickie?”

“…Nope…Cal….I…can still…last longer”, Dick responds with a small smirk of his own while also breathing through giggles

“I don’t know, Little Robin”, Mary hums happily as she re-enters the bedroom with two strings in her hands; “this next part will test you alright.”

Gently taking the two big toes of her son’s feet in her fingers, Mary carefully takes one of the string pieces and proceeds to wrap it around the toes. After as much loops as it can do, Mary toes the string in a nifty little knot. Now suddenly, Dick can barely clench his toes at all, leaving the stems completely vulnerable and practically defenseless. In a quick few seconds, Calvin too has a string piece wrapped and tied around his two big toes so now he too can barely clench his toes at all and now his stems are defenseless.

Sure enough, Mary cracks his fingers and presses a loving kiss on each of the boys’ temples before having a mischievous grin on her face as she goes face to face with four bare feet sticking out of the tightly wrapped blankets. Enter Mary’s fingertips as they begin lightly scratching within the toe stems of Dick and Calvin. To say the laughter came back with a vengeance, a tad bit louder than before and most sincerely full of energy would be a gigantic understatement.

Once more as before, no spot of those twenty toe stems and the toes themselves are untouched by Mary’s loving scratches and pokes. Both of the boys’ heads are now tossing and turning all over their soft pillows with little tears forming in their eyes. No matter hard the two Circus youths try holding it in by closing their mouths shut, their laughter still escaped. They are determined however; there is no way either of them will have to pay for the other one’s ice cream just because they lost a tickling game nor do all those dishes nor stand in line at next Red Robin restaurant they come across. As such, in spite of the utter expending of their energy and possibly their sanity, Calvin and Dick still do not quit.

About the forty-five minute mark of this whole thing, Mary still cannot help but admire the sheer amount of willpower the two boys have in the face of their bare feet receiving the treatment they get. So, once more, it was time to escalate things to basic all out war. The mischievous grin on her face going slightly bigger since now comes in that feather. Both Calvin and Dick are able to peeking through their otherwise shut eyes and suddenly their laughter changed it note slightly.

“Oh….no…” Calvin laughed out in somewhat dread.

“Oh yes” Mary proudly stated as the feather descends upon Dick’s right foot and Calvin’s left foot at the same time. Very lightly, the feather begins rubbing on the two pale feet. Already, the laughing is beginning to build up in volume. Sure enough, Mary strokes the feather slightly faster and accordingly, the laughter from the two reaches another decibel. From there, about fifty minutes in, the feather now strikes at random on both pairs of bare feet. If the feather stroke on the ball of Dick’s left foot, his laugh rises. If it strikes, Calvin right heel, his does. The tips of their toes prove being no exception since one glide across all twenty toes was enough to crank the laughter’s volume up a tad bit. As hard they try, neither Dick nor Calvin can clench their stout toes completely thanks to the strings tying their big ones. This happens while Mary’s fingertips dart around on spots the feather isn’t hitting.

Now at one hour and fifteen minutes, the nuclear option finally comes in, the feather now placed in the toe stems of both boys’ exposed feet. A simple stroke going rightward and back, rightward and back, up and down the stems, circling around the pads of the toes before coming back to the stems, rightward and…

“OK! OK!” screeches Calvin between his exhausted laughter, “I QUIT! I QUIT!”

Dick yelps happily in spite of his immobility in joy.

“I won! I actually won!” He yells, exhaustively yet ecstatically in his native tongue.

Mary has bubbling laughter of her own as she finally puts away the feather and loosens the strings on the boys’ big toes, finally giving their feet to move around more freely again. She leans over the winner’s tousled head and plants a few victory kisses on him, much to Dick’s slight embarrassment and Calvin’s light snickering.

Other than all that, both boys are just flat out exhausted. The scribbling, poking and feather stroking was apparently too much for their stamina to bear as Dick and Calvin both pant heavily and have small tears leak from their eyes onto the soft pillows they lie on. In between their panting, were still giggles since once more phantom tickles persist on their bare feet. Nonetheless those lingering nerves of theirs were fading out fast once they have a chance to be left be, yet so was the ability for the boys’ to stay awake as Mary can tell as she puts away the stings and jar containing their bets. Their panting had softened to deep and relaxed breathing as her ears can attest, just like how she felt once her mother stopped.

Remembering Calvin’s instructions on the blankets from earlier, Mary finds the one flap on both Dick and Calvin’s restraining bundles and gently tugs away, undoing all the tightening in one swift motion. Now the blankets are simply draped over each of the two, allowing their arms and legs underneath both the move freely. Not that they can though, given that one look on their faces, the two circus lads are starting to drift into deep and relaxing sleep.

“Looks…like (yawn)…I…owe…you…” With those words, Calvin was the first for sleep to claim as his eyes close, his breathing evens and his head tilts to the side with a peaceful smile on his face.

One quick kiss on Calvin’s temple and Mary pulls the folded part of his blanket to the bridge of his nose, doing so making the now asleep Calvin moan happily before shifting so that the blanket covers his entire face. Now, he was out cold. It looks like Dick was next.

Even though his eyes flutter to a slow close, Dick had a slight giggle as his mother drapes the blanket up and ruffles his black hair.

“I love you, Momma” Dick yawns dreamily “Good Night”

With a happy and proud sniffle upon hearing those words, Mary leans to give Dick one more kiss on the temple. “Good Night My Little Robin. Sweet Dreams”

Thusly, Dick eyes close completely and finally he falls into a deep and happy sleep as Mary covers his face with the blanket like Calvin has.

About five seconds later, then comes the soft snoring. Yep, both were completely dead asleep. Her game had worked.

Mary finally stands to get a good look at the two sleeping boys, completely covered by their respective blankets, the exceptions being only their crowns of their hair and most tellingly their bare feet on the other end. Normally, any other mother at this point would leave well enough alone, head to their own bed and close for the night. Mary certainly would do just that given her own tiredness kicking in. However, she always has a way to leave her mark on those she tickles. So there was just one tiny thing left to do.

She quietly and excitedly makes her way to her bedroom’s nightstand and after a good few seconds, finds what she was looking for. In her hands were a black marker pen and two cardboard tags with strings attached. Long story incredibly short, while her mother’s side of the family was filled with acrobats and circus folks, on her father’s side, their jobs were a tad bit…morbid. Medical examiners, surgeons, morticians, EMTs, funeral directors or in the case of Dick’s maternal grandfather and perhaps most frightening of all….a dentist; these were Mary’s cousins, aunts and uncles on that side of the family tree and while ultimately deviating from that career, she develops a sense of humor heavily inspired by it. So now both her more-or-less nephew Calvin and her son Dick were ‘dead asleep’ as evidenced by their light snores coming from underneath the blankets covering them, right? Well, as she writes down their ‘details’ on those two tags with strings, why not have them play the first part?

Mary finishes Calvin’s tag first and such with its attached string; she lightly as to not accidentally tickle him awake places it on the big toe of Calvin’s right foot. As to the question of where exactly Mary got such things, it was during a tour in London, during a day off, John and her out of morbid curiosity visited the nearby mortuary, and got the tags as souvenirs in the gift shop. It reads as such:

ATTACH TO TOE

NAME: Rose, Calvin

AGE: 10

GENDER: Male

ETHNICITY: White

WEIGHT: 45 lbs

HEIGHT: 4’ 11’’

FOOT SIZE: 5

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Brown

DATE OF BIRTH: 9/XX/90

PLACE OF DEATH: Bedroom DATE OF DEATH: N/A

CAUSE OF DEATH: Tickling Induced Sleepiness

MEDICAL EXAMINER: Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson

FUNERAL DIRECTOR: John Fredrick Grayson

COMMENTS: Do Not Disturb.

Calvin himself only let out a tiny giggle as the tag brushed very lightly on the sole of his bare foot but otherwise remained in deep sleep.

Sure enough, with that done, Dick too had a written on cardboard tag attached on his right foot’s big toe. While gently settling the string on the toe, Mary very lightly gave a tiny, playful brush to Dick’s sole, causing the acrobat to giggle lightly and very briefly clench his toes before they once more are still as if nothing happened. On his tag, it reads.

ATTACH TO TOE

NAME: Grayson, Richard John

AGE: 8

GENDER: Male

ETHNICITY: Romani

WEIGHT: 35 lbs

HEIGHT: 4’ 5’’

FOOT SIZE: 4.5

HAIR: Black

EYES: Blue

DATE OF BIRTH: 3/21/92

PLACE OF DEATH: Bedroom DATE OF DEATH: N/A

CAUSE OF DEATH: Exhaustion induced Slumber

MEDICAL EXAMINER: Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson

FUNERAL DIRECTOR: John Fredrick Grayson

COMMENTS: Sleep Well, Little Robin. Momma Loves You.

Her work done, Mary caps the pen close and finally makes her way to her bed. Catching a last glimpse of the two sleeping boys with their bare feet poking out of the blankets, snoring away in their dreams and toe tags attached, she gently closes the door. The bright moonlight shines through the bedroom window on the two blanket covered boys while they sleep. This is their home, this is their life, and this is truly, what a nice evening looks like.

#dick grayson #calvin rose #mary grayson #sfw tickle fluff #sfw #family fluff #adoptive family #de facto family #haly circus #content warning #quasi family #mother and son #family bonding #nightwing #talon #dc comics

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blindbeta · 2 months

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Hello, I hope you are well. The main character of a book I'm writing is blind and I want to make sure I'm not being disrespectful.

He's had both retinopathy of prematurity (stage one) and recurring glaucoma that have left him with 20/200 vision, photosensitivity, and trouble processing visual information. He can see pretty well for a range of around six feet, eight if he really focuses (which he rarely does because doing it too much will give him a massive headache and exhaust him.) He doesn't have a cane, as he's spent his entire life in the house (long story short, he's adopted and his birth parents kind of want him dead) and he doesn't need it when he already knows where all of the obstacles are, but he does have a guide dog (she's mostly for his mobility issues and physical disability, but she can also do guide dog stuff.) When the story begins and he has to leave home and go into an unfamiliar situation (boarding school when he used to be homeschooled,) he couldn't bring his dog with him and didn't know a cane was an option, so one of his friends, the only one who already knew he was blind, has been subtly guiding him. He hides his blindness at first, not sure if revealing the information could put him in danger, but eventually the other characters find out. They do initially get kind of protective, but they quickly find out to not do that because if they tell him he can't do something, he'll do it anyway just to prove them wrong. He really wants to be independent and hates it when people assume they know his limits better than he does and they try to tell him what he can and can't do despite his objections.

(The character also has Williams Syndrome, epilepsy, intellectual disability, PTSD, IED, and a major injury that renders one of his legs near useless. He uses a modified cane in place of his leg as a weight-bearing limb because working with crutches wasn't possible with old breaks in his arms.)

He's transgender and in a relationship with three other characters (all aware of each other and all fine with polyamory,) two guys and a girl. One of the guys has some trauma-sourced physical disability, CPTSD, and kleptomania, and the girl has NPD and CPTSD. They all love each other very much and all put in the effort to make their relationship work. He also has two sisters who are also blind (all three of them were premature and the glaucoma is genetic,) one who's completely blind and one who has a little bit of light vision, and there are a few other blind and low-vision characters.

Here's the problem, it's his magic. I kind of added in the blind detail after deciding his magic, and I'm worried it could accidentally count as erasing. He can shapeshift like his older sister, but neither of them use it to fix their eyes because it's a massively complicated change and because they've been blind their entire lives and their brains wouldn't really know what to do with enhanced vision. And then he has an energy ability. He's always been scared of the energy ability because he nearly killed his adopted dad with it, but one of the other characters, not knowing he's blind, recommended trapeze to help him get used to using it, because he can sense things through sensing the kinetic energy. This is only used to help him get used to his power and he only uses it for trapeze (he saw it and fell in love with it before anyone could tell him not to. With a bit of adaptive technology for his leg and small, humming sound devices, each at a different pitch, on every trapeze platform, he actually does really well at it,) but does it count as negating his blindness? He can't really see with it, it's closer to hearing a projectile coming close but not being able to hear exactly how far away it is.

(These are more minor details, but there are also other details in the story about his blindness- his adopted parents got him a Braille printer and translated a few books for him, and then his younger sibling decided he liked typing on the Braille printer and started translating a bunch, so he knows how to read Braille and has a massive collection of Braille books because they're easier for him to read. He also uses voice-to-text and text-to-voice on his phone and laptop. One of his friends gets him a bunch of talking technology, like a clock that tells him the time when he presses a button, and some things like oven rack covers and colour-coded kitchen utensils, and another friend takes notes for him using those 3D ink pens so that he can easily translate them to Braille and have his own notes to study.)

Thank you for running your blog, your posts have been a great help

Photophobia, Service Dog for Someone Who Can’t Leave Home, Multiple Disabilities, Choosing Accommodations and Assistive Technology, Giving Gifts to a Blind Person, and General Blindness Stuff

This post is a big one. If you are not the asker, feel free to use the big text titles to explored the subjects that interest you. Additionally, please forgive any lingering typos in this post. I did my best to address them all, however they may still occur due to the length of this post.

I tried to address as much as I could in your ask. Please let me know if you have more questions.

Photophobia, Health Care, and General Advice for Writing About Blindness

I can see how staying in the house all the time might lead to an even bigger increase in photophobia when venturing outside. Even if he has a backyard he can use safely, I imagine being in the outside world regularly would exacerbate his photophobia. If you plan to give him sunglasses, be sure to connect them to the photophobia and have him remove them on occasion, such as when indoors. This post might be relevant.

I’m assuming he has access to reliable medical care, considering all his conditions. Blindness generally requires regular optometrist visits, particularly for glaucoma. Same for epilepsy. He may also want psychotherapy treatment for PTSD, adoption and childhood trauma, and managing other symptoms that come with his disabilities. Since he has access to a computer, virtual therapy and virtual check-ups are possible. That said, certain testing or treatment cannot be conducted virtually. I am not familiar with weight-bearing prosthetics, but he will need to be fitted for that as well and have access to help with up-keeping it. You probably don’t need to spend a lot of time on this subject, although considering it may add realism or relatability to your story. If he takes medication for epilepsy, pain management, or if he’s on testosterone, access to medication should be considered as well, both at home and the boarding school.

For his difficulty processing visual information, he might benefit from using a screen-reader, audio descriptions, and audiobooks. He might like the tactile sensation of Braille since you mentioned Braille books. So a Braille display might be more beneficial than a Braille printer and more effective considering cost and physical space. He can get Braille books from plenty of programs, so he won’t go without, supplemented with audiobooks and the Braille display as he gets older. I have seen Braille printers at schools. Not so much in homes. Although I suppose people with access to Braille printing at school would not have much need for them at home. This might be different if he and his siblings are homeschooled.

I suggest considering what options he and his siblings prefer and why. What makes sense for their home, finances, school needs, reading needs, writing needs, and personal preferences?

For school work, slate and stylus or computers are also options.

Braille literacy is declining. I’m honestly happy to see Braille mentioned at all. These are just extra topics to consider.

You also mentioned he can see about 6 to 8 feet in front of him. I think you’re on the right track with mentioning that he doesn’t try to strain himself. A lot of blind people with residual vision are expected to use and even rely on it. Because seeing is effort for us, this can be exhausting or even painful. Eye strain is real thing. Feeling tired from using your eyes a lot, such as for reading or navigating dim, unfamiliar spaces, can cause eye strain.

Other than that, I suggest focusing less on his exact level of vision and more on using techniques to make his life easier. More on how blindness influences and enriches his life. Maybe he uses lamps instead of harsh over-head lights. Maybe he has his screen-reader read an article to him instead of having to stare at his phone. Maybe he cuddles his guide dog when it rains and his old breaks are aching. Or maybe he has brightly colored kitchen stuff to increase contrast while he cuts veggies or bakes muffins for his family.

Needs for a Service Dogs: O&M Skills and Getting Out of the House

I can also see how the lifestyle and limited mobility, exercise, and access to healthcare would influence his other disabilities, including his mobility concerns. Having a service dog who can act as a guide as well as provide stability sounds helpful. Although I wonder how training with his service dog would go, given that 1) he would need to have proficient O&M skills, including cane skills, before getting a guide dog and 2) guide dog applications require not only training with new guides, but also routes that are traversed regularly.

The Samsung Guide Dog School in Japan lists this requirement here which reads:

“There should be a daily destination to maintain activity.

School → Student, Working place → Worker or Self employment

Other social activity → Homemaker, Freelancer”

Guide Dogs of America also lists a similar requirement in this list of qualifications here which reads as follows:

Are you legally blind?

At least 18 years of age or older?

Have you completed orientation and mobility training?

Are you physically able to walk one or two miles a day?

Do you have three or more routes you walk on a regular basis?

Financially able to appropriately care for a guide dog?

Additionally, this section refers to the necessary O&M skills, particularly navigating and cane skills I mentioned earlier: “Orientation and mobility is training that visually impaired individuals receive that helps them confidently navigate the world. O&M focuses on things like sensory awareness, spatial concepts, relationships which exist between objects in the environment, searching skills, independent movement, sighted guide, protective techniques and cane skills. Every potential GDA student must submit an O&M evaluation before being accepted into our program.”

With these qualifications in mind, consider these questions and how your story can explain them. He may not need to walk exactly one or two miles a day, nor does he need to go far with his guide dog. Even walking to a general store, the vet clinic, and a neighbor’s house would work. As I explained in my post about canes and guide dogs, financial concerns also vary as well, with some schools covering all veterinary care and others only covering some food for when the dog and handler leave training. You can get flexible with whatever fits his situation best as long as the general outline is there regarding training, routes, exercise, and care for the dog.

Some things about training to consider are:

How did he get the service dog and train with her if he can’t leave the house? If he needs to stay inside for safety reasons, a program that allows him to go away and train with his service dog might actually be to his benefit. Or he could choose a program that includes training in his own home and community, depending on if it is safe enough from the people who want him dead. While a lot of programs that I can find include training at a specific location which the guide dog handler travels to, there are some programs in which trainers go to the handler instead. For example, Sadi the Blind Lady discusses this type of training with her guide dog in this video here.

As for development of cane skills, he would need to spend at least some time outside, such as when learning to cross the street safely. This would also require at least some exploration outside even with an instructor meeting him at his house. Traveling to other indoor areas to practice navigating is important as well. For example, my indoor cane skills involve finding and using escalators, elevators, stairs, and ramps safely. Finding landmarks is also a useful skill. He can use some of his residual vision for all of these tasks, along with his cane.

Exercise and routes for guide dogs are also important. These are big dogs that need at least some time outside. Most programs want a handler walking a few routes daily or a few times a week.

I can’t speak for other types of services the dog in question is trained to do, but I know that some guide dogs are also able to provide stabilization for DeafBlind handlers.

My suggestion for all these concerns would be to either come up with a reason he is safe in his general community or an area around his home rather than only inside. This might allow him to learn O&M skills, train with his guide dog, and go on short walks.

I am imagining a quiet village or perhaps a community that is secluded. Perhaps he lives in the mountains or the forest. Even a rural area could give him a little more freedom to leave his house without risk.

One last point I wanted to mention is that the requirements I listed above suggest handlers should be 18 or older. However, some schools accept 16 and older. Some accept handlers as young as 13. I’m less concerned about the more common age requirement so long as service dogs are portrayed accurately.

The Boarding School and Mobility Aids

The boarding school should allow the service dog, as service dogs can go anywhere. I also feel that him not knowing a cane is an option is confusing, especially given that cane skills are a prerequisite for guide dogs. Forgoing a cane and his dog also reduces his independence both as a blind person and someone with mobility issues. This, coupled with a drastic change in living situation, lifestyle, and amount of socialization, could be challenging. If used for plot reasons, this could be effective for creating emotional and physical struggles. However, it may be quite a lot for what sounds like a story already filled with different problems to face.

In my opinion, going into an unfamiliar situation without his usual mobility aids would probably cause additional strain. Instead of having a familiar dog by his side, he would go into this situation with no source of familiarity. Therefore, a guide dog there might help him in several areas, while also leaving his blindness less obvious than it might be if he used a cane. This is because canes are meant to be indicative of visual impairment in addition to mobility tools. Service dogs, on the other hand, can be utilized for multiple purposes, as is true with your character’s dog. This means that if your character does not want to disclose his blindness, which he is not required to do, he can explain that the dog is a service dog trained to provide assistance for various disabilities. As far as other characters know, these tasks could be anything from stabilization, medical alert, retrieval, or psychiatric support.

This post on service animals might be of some use.

This post I made about mobility aids might also be helpful.

The Spectrum of Blindness

I like that you have a few other blind characters, displaying the spectrum of blindness and different experiences. I wonder what mobility aids the other characters use.

Boarding School Accommodations and Assistive Technology

If he isn’t sharing about his blindness, how does he do schoolwork? I mention this because of little things that come up in classrooms, such as print being too small on exams, teachers writing on the boards without verbalizing, or students needing extra time. Eye strain can also be a concern in classroom settings. If he can talk with his teachers about accommodations he may need in order to do his schoolwork, this might help. He doesn’t necessarily need to let anyone else know unless he chooses to.

Conversely, you could also show the difficulties of not having accommodations or not having them fulfilled properly. The frustration, confusion, and helplessness often felt in these situations could be relatable to readers. Eventually, he could receive accommodations and advocate for himself, displaying the difference accommodations make. These can take the form of teachers and friends helping him in ways he would like to be assisted.

Accommodations put blind students on an even playing field. As long as you don’t normalize not having them, you’re probably good going either route. I wanted to include my thoughts here just in case, as you only mentioned a friend taking notes for him.

About note taking with a 3D pen—I’m not sure if that would work for notes. 3D pens are fun to use for drawings and art, but the ones I used weren’t very reliable, plus there is the size of the letters to consider. 3D letters are meant to be tactile, which means they would need to be larger than usual. This means reading an entire page of notes might be challenging.

He might be better off using other options, such as large print, for notes, particularly notes for maths or other materials written on the board that are not said out loud by the teacher. In this case, the notes his friend takes might be supplemental, with him taking his own notes by listening. He has a few options for this, including Braille, a laptop, or recording lectures. Since you mentioned he has a laptop with a screen-reader, he can probably use that with headphones. Refreshable Braille displays and note takers are also options, although they cost money. Typically they are provided by schools, governments, or scholarships.

When choosing assistive technology, consider his personality, his level of vision, how comfortable and knowledgeable he is with Braille, and how comfortable or uncomfortable he is with potentially standing out in some way. I’m not sure if at this point he’s still hiding his blindness or being open about it, but if he wants to hide it or avoid standing out among his peers, he might choose something like large print, a laptop, having a friend help take notes, or a combination thereof. Of course, if he has trouble processing visual information, large print might not be an option. In this case, a laptop with a screen-reader would allow him to take his own notes as well as read any that are emailed to him. If you go with him hiding his blindness, a laptop is probably the best option.

If he is comfortable with others knowing about his blindness, he might be more likely to use a Braille note-taker with headphones. He can also use a combination approach depending on his needs as well. For example, maybe he also records lectures because he is a slow note-taker or he gets distracted easily.

So far, you have a good use of assistive technology and Braille so far. I do wonder how he and his siblings learned Braille. Did an instructor come to their home to teach them as part of their homeschooling?

Some Thoughts About His Friends Helping Him

Other characters assuming his limits is pretty true to my own experience, as well as the reverse, such as people assuming he can do things that are actually hard for him because they can’t relate to his amount of vision. Vision can also change depending on environmental factors, lighting, fatigue, stress, eye strain, or anxiety.

While I don’t have a problem with friends making the mistake of being overly protective of blind friends, I think it is important that the behavior is also addressed and changed. His friends are not more knowledgeable about what is safe for him than he is. They are not more knowledgeable about what he can do than he is. [Bolded for emphasis.]

I also wonder, why hide his blindness and not other disabilities? Is it because blindness is a bit easier to hide than the others?

Consider how his various disabilities interact with each other. For example, blind people and people with cognitive disabilities are often infantilized, which can make advocacy difficult.

Lastly, you mentioned his friend subtly guiding him, of which I feel wary. If he asks his friend to do so, that would give him more agency, if you weren’t already alluding to that.

Oh, and another point I wanted to mention is that you have a lot of disabilities represented, some of which are highly stigmatized. Consider finding a few sensitivity readers for those as well, such as CPTSD, cognitive disability, and NPD, or at least the things you don’t already have personal experience with. @sensitivityreaders is a good place to start, as well as conducting general searches on tumblr and twitter.

@cripplecharacters is also a great resource for writing disabilities. Check out their master-posts for sure.

Avoiding Erasing Blindness Wth Shapeshifting and Energy Abilities, Plus Blind Person Learning Trapeze

The shapeshifting and energy stuff don’t seem like erasing blindness as far as you have described them here. Since one of your characters also has difficulty processing visual information with his residual vision, that means that the overwhelm would double for him. This isn’t even considering his photosensitivity. Additionally, eyes are complex structures, so messing about with them is probably not advisable if you don’t know what you’re doing.

Also, disclaimer, I know nothing about trapeze. The set-up your have sounds plausible to me, especially if you throw in magic. My main concerns are about possible light sensitivity from spotlights or light changes, as well as his stability problems making trapeze more arduous for him.

A quick search online brought up two blind trapeze artists: Sarah Houbolt and Rachael Storey.

As long as you can make trapeze accessible for him, you’re probably fine. Relying on audio and energy cues sounds like a good way to do that, as well as following regular procedures for training and safety. If anymore more familiar with trapeze can help, feel free to do in the notes and OP can contact you.

His Friends Getting Him Blindness Stuff Feels Off to Me

You mentioned that his friends get him stuff for cooking. Is he also cooking for himself at the boarding school?

A talking alarm clock and a Braille watch might be useful for school.

My only concern about his friends getting him such tools is that sighted people usually don’t know what is available, let alone where to order these items. Doing so could show that they paid attention and were proactive about doing their own research. However, what tools help can depend on the person and it might be important to establish that he expressed wanting certain items already.

Some blind people enjoy receiving blindness stuff as gifts. It shows the giver put extra consideration into choosing it. However, some blind people are sensitive about receiving items that specifically relate to blindness, unless they communicated wanting it beforehand as a gift option. Personally, unless I specifically asked for something Blindness Stuff TM, I would feel strange if a friend showed up with a talking alarm clock and gave it to me. This might be because I would rather something more personal, less utilitarian. Also, when sighted people talk about accessibility tools with me, I have usually already heard about it, didn’t want it, or already have it. The exceptions to this are if I, for example, want money to go toward something like an expensive Braille display. Or one of my blind friends gives me something I’ve been talking about for a while. With the exception of Braille cards or considering general accessibility where possible, none of my blind friends have gifted me Blindness Stuff.

@askablindperson made a video about giving blind people gifts that might also be useful. It captured some of my awkward feelings related to receiving blindness stuff. Link here.

My last suggestion for increasing general accessibility is to watch blind content creators, such as on this list linked here.

Closing

There is quite a lot to chew on in your ask. I tried to address everything. Please read any notes that might be added with anything I missed. I would also highly suggest a few sensitivity readers for the blindness and guide dog aspects.

I hope this helps.

#blind #blind characters #writing blind characters #disability #accessibility #ableism #white canes #guide animals #service dogs #scheduled post #giving blind people gifts

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