#ditto the vein in the back of his hand

[homoeroticgrappling]

Seeing people freak out about this picture of Danhausen without makeup and being reminded that not everyone is deeply unwell about this man, therefore many people have only ever seen him with full Danhausen face... Much to think about

[cirrus-grey]

Arranged marriage AU where Jon and Martin are Nobles With Neighboring Estates who meet as teenagers and fall in love. When they come of age they find out their respective families have engaged them off to strangers, so - unwilling to face a life apart - they flee their homes in the middle of the night to be together.

Cue Peter Lukas (distantly related head of Martin’s family) and Jonah Magnus (ditto for Jon) frantically beginning their own months-long searches for the runaway grooms, desperate to find them and drag them back to their weddings.

Eventually the two are located on a small rural farm, living the cottagecore life. Peter and Jonah are summoned; their carriages pull up outside the small house at the same time. They disembark, frowning at each other.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for my family's runaway groom, Jonathan Sims."

"I'm looking for my family's runaway, Martin Blackwood."

They both look at the house.

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

-

There's a knock at the front door. Jon opens it and finds himself face-to-face with Jonah.

"Hello, Jon."

Jon pales and takes a step back. "You can't make me go back."

"I think-"

Before he can speak, Martin enters from another room in the house. "Jon, who's-" and then he freezes, and pales as well.

"Hello, Martin," Peter says.

"I won't go back," Martin replies, his voice shaking. He steps up next to Jon and puts a hand on his shoulder. Jon reaches up to hold it with his own, and Peter and Jonah's eyes focus in on the rings on their fingers.

"Please," Jonah says, through gritted teeth. "For the love of god. Tell me the two of you didn't run away to marry each other."

Jon's chin juts out in defiance. "And if we did? You can't separate us."

"Oh for goodness-!" Peter says. "We've been looking for you for months! Countless man hours we’ve wasted to bring you back for your wedding, only to find out you're already married?"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you went and sold our futures away!" Martin says. "We're not pawns in your chess game, we're not just going to go along with whatever schemes you come up with to marry us off to-"

"-each other?" Jonah interrupts.

Jon and Martin freeze.

"...What?"

Peter waves a hand at Jon. "Martin, this is the Magnus boy you were arranged to marry!"

Jonah nods at Martin. "This is the Lukas child to whom you were engaged, Jon."

"What?"

"Did you seriously," and there is a vein throbbing in his temple, "know each other for years, run away from your homes together, get married, and it never, not once occurred to you to tell each other what families you came from?"

-

Jmart get their asses dragged back home for a Real and Proper Legal Wedding (the first definitely wasn't - they exchanged rings and declared their undying love for each other in a moonlit field with no witnesses). As soon as the ceremony's over they're banished back to their farm because no one wants to put up with any more of their bullshit.

And there they live happily (if somewhat embarrassed) ever after.

[pipitwrites]

"ditto" by new jeans

If Alex had known Charles was going to be back in town for the party tonight—well, she might have come anyway.

“Eighty-twenty odds,” George says, her legs a confident shoulders’ width apart because she’s picked up the worst mannerisms from her new finance colleagues. Alex kicks at the back of her knees just to see her crumple into the corner of the kitchen island with an undignified yelp. It’s a very nice counter, topped with a lovely dark granite slab with subtle veins of white spidering through the stone. Classy, functional.

“Hi Alex,” she hears and her head immediately whips up. Charles is wearing what has to be the ugliest Christmas sweater in the entire history of mankind, the lumpy, pilling fabric rolled up to her elbows and heaped under her chin in a thick cowl neck, giving her arms and neck the appearance of dainty twigs poking out from a yarn explosion.

“Hey,” Alex says, mouth dry. George mouths eighty at her over Charles’s head before walking away with her hands raised. Alex is tempted to throw a piece of popcorn shrimp at her, but that would be a waste of the frankly horrible, overly fried hors d’oeuvres. Instead she forces it into her own mouth in an effort to shut herself up. Tragically, Charles seems to find it all amusing, cheeks dimpling as she giggles.

“Happy new year,” Charles says, always sweet as she kisses Alex’s cheek. “It’s good to see you again.”

It’s been nineteen months since Charles’s new job took her across the universe, not that Alex has been counting. “Yeah, you know,” she says, flapping her hands about vaguely. “We’ve still got a minute left.”

“I found some of your stuff,” Charles says out of the blue, nibbling on a cracker. It would be more painful if Alex hadn’t been receiving texts in that same vein at a rate of one every two to three months. They had never been particularly good at separating out their laundry while they were roommates and Charles has always been a mess in the house.

“I told you, you can just wear them.” For all of Charles’s thieving habits, her wardrobe crimes were mostly limited to the cheap oversized t-shirts that Alex would buy in bulk to wear to the workshop.

“It’s not clothes.” Charles bites her lip, looking almost nervous now. “They’re photos and cards and things.”

“Okay…?” Alex says, bemused. “I mean, you can just send them to me, you know where I live.”

“I was thinking you could come back to my apartment to look at them. My new one. Here.” Charles’s eyes seem to glow like a little stars, bright and determined as Lando turns off the lights and George begins to lead the countdown from the living room.

[mel-the-pirate-writeblr]

Whumpay - Promises (M(T)PJ:DD)

My (Twisted) Pokémon Journey Snippets Masterlist

Prompts:

Day 29 - "I won't let them hurt you anymore."

Day 30 - Nightmares

1.2k words under the cut.

I have done a LOT of Italian homework in the last few days and I apparently thought a good way to decompress was to participate in another of the Whump Month Challenges for a hot second, that being @whumpay!

Check the tags for content warnings.

This is a part of the fourth/fifth book of Crystal's story, Ditto Defect. The long and short of it is that Crystal can use Transform, she starts having ~issues~ with controlling it, and she is found out. This is set in Unova, but touched on past events (from her current moment, it is considered the past). I have snippets of DD so it's a bit more random with organization.

Crystal’s world had been reduced back to an observation chamber in the P2 Laboratory, stuck in the familiar form of a Ninetales instead of her own body, but this time, it wasn’t Team Plasma scientists who visited her.

     It wasn’t even a human.

     This time, Dusknoir – The Great Dusknoir, Primal-Dialga’s-right-hand Dusknoir, Dusknoir from the Future – haughtily, leisurely, levitated into view. 

     “We didn’t even need to do anything, and you were served to us on a silver platter.”

     Crystal didn’t know who us included, but she glared at him – glared like she did before, at the Stockade. Glared like Grovyle and Celebi were there to back her up. Glared like she wasn’t trapped in the very place that sucked out every ounce of hope and replaced it with gallons of dread.

     He continued, “You refuse to become a weapon—”

     That’s not Dusknoir.

     “—but we have ways to arrange that.”

     That’s not Dusknoir’s voice.

     “You’ll wish we gave you something to do, but, alas,” he shrugged and gave her a pitying look. It quickly turned into a sneer. “You continue to resist, so we need to alter the stimulus.”

     Is Dusknoir using Sebastian’s voice?

     Dusknoir’s form started to shift, the dark colors gave way to the white of a lab coat, and his bulky form thinned into the shape of a human. Sebastian.

     “I’ll let you be for now,” he said with another sneer. “We’ll get to the tests soon enough, but... well, isn’t the human mind such a scary thing? You won’t have sentient thoughts, soon, but while you do, we’ll use those against you. We’ll use everything against you,” he promised, relishing in the threat. “I want to see what you’ll use against yourself.”

     He strolled out of view, as casually as he had come.

     Crystal took a step forward—

     Something solid pulled around her neck, and she heard the clink, clink of chain links behind her. She turned and saw a chain leading from a hook on the wall to the back of her neck. She couldn’t see the collar, but she knew it had to be there – she reached up, finding a few things dangling, as if they were charms or tags for non-battling Pokémon companions.

     One of them burned red-hot. Crystal jerked her paw away, and saw that the fur had burned away and singed on the edges, burning even the skin. I’m a Ninetales, I should be immune to fire damage and burns like this with Flash Fire.

     But the singed fur started spreading – slowly at first, but noticeably. It turned an ashy grey, then darkened to charcoal, a burning heat following.

     The burn started glowing a golden-orange color, searing away the skin with a molten intensity. Something poked through – even in the pain, one train of thought managed, Crystalline. Unfamiliar. 

     Finally, it burned through her mane – whatever hung off of her collar, it burned through the fur, and she could finally smell burning flesh and fur. And something pushing through the skin.

     Crystal doubled over and saw the crystal on her paw growing, actively growing, turning into a sharp spike of molten pain. Fire raced through her veins, all of it starting from the burn on her chest or her paw.

      “I won’t let them hurt you anymore.”

     The soft voice, the calming voice, soothed the fire she should have been immune to. She glanced up, still in pain, but it had started receding to a dull throb of heat.

     N watched her, concerned. He had opened the door to the chamber, he had a key in hand. “I’m going to set you free.”

     Memories surfaced – memories of emotion. Betrayal. Distrust. Fear. Anger. Fear. Anger. Fight or flight – she couldn’t run, not with the collar. Her fur started bristling in warning, she bore her fangs at him as her own fire raced up her throat, burning it with the golden flames. Her summoned Will-o-Wisps met N, and he halted.

     “Crystal, it’s N. Do you remember me?” He studied her, worry in his eyes. She could se him thinking, What did they do to you?

     I remember you. You are why I’m trapped here. You’re why I am like this.

     “Something’s wrong. We can fix it after I get that collar off.”

     Crystal growled louder.

     Then she blinked, and it was her brother – Kevin? – standing there with the key.

     “Let’s hurry and get out,” he said. “I don’t like those crystals.”

     An ever growing urge began inside, Crystal’s vision pulsed as she stared at Kevin’s neck – fixated on his jugular veins, the pulse she could hear, almost feel.

     He turned the key, unlocking the collar. She felt it come loose, but the burning only grew and spread, even as she left behind whatever had started it.

     “Come, we must go before they return.”

     That voice wasn’t Kevin.

     Crystal looked up and saw N, this time in his kingly regalia.

     She lunged at him, reaching for his throat with her teeth. She wanted the warm blood, she wanted his lifeforce, she wanted him dead. She wanted revenge. Someone else should pay for what they’ve done.

     She blinked again— and Kevin’s eyes, terrified eyes and his horrible blood spilling out of his throat, his hands reaching up and only coming away bloody.

     She couldn’t meet the betrayal in his eyes, couldn’t watch the life leave his eyes.

     Crystal knew when his heart stopped. She knew when he died.

     Looking back at the body— it was N.

     Footsteps sounded from outside the chamber, and Kevin walked into the bloody, gruesome sene.

     The two of them locked eyes – and Kevin hurriedly backed out and shut the door, the lock clicking into place.

     The burning stopped. The crystals fell out, leaving gaping holes in her chest and paw – one spilling more blood than the other, as it mixed with N’s.

     “There’s no saving you from this,” Kevin said, pointing at N’s body. “I won’t let them hurt you anymore – but you can’t be allowed to li—”

Crystal shot awake in her bed, heart pounding, phantom burns on her chest and hand. She hurried out of bed, down the hall, looking for Kevin’s room. Once she got to it, she opened the door slowly, listening.

     She heard slow, rhythmic breathing. Light snores. The blankets moved as he shifted position. Thank Arceus, you're alive. She quietly closed the door, focusing on breathing slowly to calm her heart.

     The dream slowly released her, the emotions receding as she re-oriented herself in reality.

     Soft footfalls on the carpet caught Crystal’s attention, her adrenaline ramping up again—

     “Syl?” her Sylveon said quietly, slowly approaching. In the near-darkness, Crystal could see Sylveon’s ribbon-like feelers reaching toward her.

     She reached out to Sylveon, and the feelers gently wrapped around Crystal's arm. “I’m okay,” she whispered, walking back toward her room as Sylveon fell into step beside her, guiding her. 

     Crystal doubted that Sylveon believed her, but at the same time, Sylveon couldn’t outright interrogate her, either. I just need your comforting presence and to go back to sleep.

     She settled into bed, Sylveon curling up against Crystal, her feelers loosely draped over her and on her arm.

     It was just a dream. She had to tell herself that, she had to believe it. It was just a nightmare.

     Crystal closed her eyes, focusing on Slyveon’s presence. The lulling warmth contrasted the burning from earlier, a kind feeling and not a fierce one. She relaxed, lulled into a half-sleep as thoughts mixed with memories at random, the kind of liquid chaos a brain makes on its way to sleep.

Oh, my, a voice in her head drawled, sourceless and ethereal. You’re more qualified to torment yourself than I am, aren’t you? You’re much better at this than I am. After all – I was just the spark, so to speak. But the rest? My dear, that was all you.

[lilmcttens]

I had a thought of the TS, Darius, Alador, Hunter, Edric, Emira, and Amity going on a vacation trip. The two twins just end up sleeping on a vacation bed passing out together just exhausted from traveling there.

Okay.. so For once they wanna take it easy and sleep right. Then their brilliant younger sister gets the urge to fight with their step brother pillow fighting each other when he hit her with a pillow. Now they’re stuck in the middle of it. Luckily they’re all dressed so they can all relax no one has shoes on or heavy jackets.

Hunter and Amity are laughing and hitting one another back. Ed is shouting “Dude! What are you doing?” Emira’s laughing but she’s also got tired eyes. Hunter’s all Braggy like: “Ah… you two couldn’t possibly understand what we went through in the human world. He arm locks Amity and he alludes to their flap tats. “We have a special connection now.”

Emira shakes her head. “Oh yes well we had her first and let us teach you some of the principles of being an older sibling.”

Hunter crosses his arms and holds his scroll. “Ehh being an older brother is easy in I carry it in my veins.” He dials Luz. She answers. “Hey Luz.” Luz responds. “Yeah Hunter.” He smirks. “Hey go to bed it’s late right now.” Luz on the other end. “Going..”

Edric shakes his head at Hunter him and Emira pulls Amity back by her shoulders and hold her in the middle of them. Not protectively but showing off.

Hunter groans. “Aww take away my distraction when I’m not looking touché.”

Emira puts her hand on Amity’s head and Edric gently pushes forward with his foot and they end up making her land on her back where they sprinkle her with peppering kisses she laughs. They steal her gloves off her hands and both hug her laying together.

Hunter tries to walk off with waffles sad but then Ed and Em pull him in and Batric, Emira’s moth and Ditto gently nip at Waffle(s) while Ghost springs up in the middle purring.

Emira and Edric both shout gently: “Now please go to sleep!”

[afeb]

Chris Evans - Us

I giggled as Chris sponged kisses across my lips and cheeks, hands squeezing my hips as he pulled the covers over our bodies. I peered over to Dodger who scowled back at me from the dog bed.

“He’s glaring again.” I laughed.

“You’re in his spot.” Chris smiled back as he looked over at the small dog.

“I’m surprised you don’t make me sleep on the dogs bed when I stay.” I joked as I looped my arms around his neck.

“Well, that was the original plan,” he winked. “But Dodge and I spoke and agreed that since you’re only here two nights a week, you could sleep on the bed.”

I giggled. “Well thanks boys, I appreciate it.”

Chris stared down at me for a moment, smile fading slowly. “I hate it when you’re not here.”

I stroked over his cheeks. “Me too honey,”

“The house feels empty.” He noted with a deep hum.

“If I could I’d stay here all the time,” I reassured with a smile.

Chris faltered for a moment. “Well...you could...if you wanted.”

I frowned. “But what about my place?”

“You could move out, you’re lease is up for renewal next month...” he sat up and I followed after him.

“Are you...you want me...” I stumbled over my words.

Chris began to worry. “Oh god I’ve said too much, ignore me!”

He scrambled out of bed. “Chris, wait!”

I hurried after him as he jogged downstairs to the kitchen, where I followed closely behind him. “It’s dumb, I know, we’ve only been dating a few months and I’ve asked too much, who knows if you even like me that much I mean, the public only just found out we’re together so to them we’re moving really quick and-“

“Chris!” I stopped his rambling as he breathed deeply.

“Yeah?” He winced.

“Of course I’ll move in.” His face dropped but then turned into the brightest smile I’d seen.

“Really?” He inched towards me.

“Yes, really.” I squeaked as he lifted me up and spun around, Dodger bouncing at our feet.

“You mean I get to see you every day?” He beamed up at me.”

“If you can bear it.” I teased.

He placed me down and smiled. “I’m just mesmerised by you.”

I blushed and leant up to kiss his lips. “Ditto.”

He went into the kitchen and started babbling again. “We can redecorate if you want, I know you’re place is a lot more green than mine. But if you want your bed and things we can swap mine for yours, and put mine in the spare room. Oh! And I thought all your plants would look great around the living room and...”

I sat at the table and watched him make coffee, and I couldn’t help the joy that swam through my veins and as I listened to him talk about us.

[drakenology]

boyfriend number 2

- hinata shoyo x fem!reader x miya osamu

minors dni.

warnings: 18+ content, smut, infidelity, exhibitionism (yall already know lol), degradation, dumbification/incoherence, cussing, raw sex, mentions of cum, raunchy hook up, poor unsuspecting boyfriend

Every day of the week you’re subjected to a routine. The same routine you’d been living since high school. With the same boy since high school.

Sure, Hinata was quite possibly the perfect boyfriend. He was sensitive and attentive, so sweet you almost felt sick. But in bed.. well he did his best. Always cumming a bit too quickly, nearly finishing you off or not even driving you close to an orgasm. You’d lost count of the amount of times you’ve faked it with him and with him being as sweet as he is Hinata didn’t suspect a thing. But you loved him, really you did. Hopefully, eventually, you could teach him how to please you.

But every so often, every now and again you found yourself with someone else. Sure it was wrong, but it was just different with him. With Osamu. Osamu was the hot volleyball player from out of town you had met one foggy night at the bar. It was supposed to be a one time thing, you swore to yourself.

But with the way he fucked you that night, you found yourself coming back for more everytime. You swore with every orgasm came a high you could never get with Shoyo. When you felt that ache of need, that dull feeling in your dissatisfied cunt when Shoyo went home for the night, you knew exactly who to call. And Osamu always answered, always so ready and willing to give you a filling the right way.

Not to mention he was insatiable, every spot left untouched and wavering would then be caressed, licked, sucked on, fucked. You’ll never forget the times he made you cum so hard, the cops were called from the concerning sound of your high pitched whines and sobs.

Eventually, his neighbors stopped calling when you came over, knowing that when you come over in your pajamas and an over night bag hanging over your shoulder as you happily knock on his door meant you’d be getting your insides flipped about 7 different ways in about a half hour.

Just like usual, Hinata flops next to you in bed. His chest heaves after another “wild” night with his pretty girlfriend who seemed to enjoy herself too. He peppered kisses along your shoulders and up to your ear and whispered a sweet I love you. You smile and close your eyes, sleeping in your boyfriends arms as he followed right behind you.

-bzzzt bzzzt-

Who could be texting you at this hour? You sit up groggily, squinting your eyes at the bright screen of your phone as you pick it up. It was Osamu.

“Be ready in 30, tell your boyfriend you’re goin out ;).” The text read, a familiar feeling in your chest starting to brew as you bit your lip. You slowly slip out of Hinata’s grasp and kiss his forehead, tip toeing around his room to find your clothes and all your belongings.

Just as promised, Osamu arrived in 30 minutes, honking his horn ignorantly as if it wasn’t about 12 o’clock in the fucking morning. You rushed downstairs about as quietly as you could and practically ran towards his car, jumping inside to escape the cold rain.

He drives back to his place with his hand on your inner thigh, his thumb caressing the flesh as his other hand turned the steering wheel. You knew running off with another guy behind your boyfriend’s back was wrong, but why did it feel so right every time you did it? Osamu had everything Hinata didn’t; passion with an attentive and doting nature.

Besides the bedroom, he made you feel like you were the sexiest thing walking. He was exciting and wild and unpredictable. Everything you didn’t know you needed until you started fucking him a month ago.

Even as you kiss Osamu’s lips pinned up against his apartment door, even as your clothes are casted aside all throughout modest space, you still think of Hinata and how much this would crush him if he ever found out. But when Osamu was inside you, shit, who the hell was Hinata? Osamu hoists you over his shoulder, walking into his bedroom with a firm smack on your ass before laying you down on the bed.

“Mm, I missed you, Osamu.” You purr, arching into his body as he kissed and sucked on your neck.

“Ditto.” He mumbled, pulling your panties off when you lift your ass to help him take them off. His hands make their way to your already dripping cunt, clit swollen from the denied orgasm you were forced to endure just moments before coming here.

“What is that motherfucker doing to you, huh?” He asks, apologetically rubbing tender circles on the puffy bud. You yelp, so sensitive your thighs start shaking a little. “Bet he doesn’t even know what this is, does he baby?” You mewl in response, the pleasure going straight to your brain.

Osamu smirks at you, rubbing his fingers along your slit to relish in your wetness, your aching pussy practically gushing for him to do anything to you.

“You get so wet for me, princess. You get this wet for your little boyfriend?” He questions, hooking his fingers inside you to prod at your softest spots. You attempt to answer, shaking your head and letting out a shaky “uh-uh” as he fucks you with his fingers. Osamu kissed you sloppily, moaning into your mouth as his fingers moved faster, the sound of your pussy sucking in his fingers causing his cock to make less room for him in his pants.

Your back arched off the bed, panting as his tongue lapped up your clit, his fingers hooking deliciously against your spongiest spots. His name was written on your lips, the only thing you can say before your stomach is in knots, pathetic moans leaving the pit of your chest as you feel yourself getting oh so close to cumming all over Osamu’s handsome face.

“I-I’m cumming, hnnnn fuck!” You scream, your slick dripping all over Osamu’s hand. He moans against you, pulling you closer as he suckled on your puffy clit. With a high pitched squeal, your coming undone, your thighs closing around his head as you pant heavily.

Osamu’s smirking against your skin before pulling away, wrapping his big hand around your throat and kissing you hotly. Your tongues swirl, moaning against each other as Osamu pulls out his heavy length.

Another thing Hinata lacks. Osamu’s cock always had you feeling so full, the perfect size to get you drooling. His girth alone was impressive, thick veins, the cherry on top. Don’t even get me started on those heavy balls, the ones that swing and slap at your already aching clit with every thrust of his hips. He ran his length along your dripping folds, tapping his perfect head against your clit as your hiss and writhe underneath him, desperate to feel full.

“Want it baby?” He asks, prodding himself at your desperate hole. You nod feverishly, rambling on about how badly you wanted to feel full, how much you wanted to feel him throbbing inside you. Of course your dirty mouth grants you your wish, Osamu’s cock stretching you with a slow motion.

“‘S so fuckin’ tight, baby. Gimme that pussy.” He moans, rutting his hips into yours, hands holding up your thighs to reach deep. You’re sobbing, tears falling onto the pillow beneath you as you let out breathy moans. Osamu’s mouth stop ghosting over yours to sit on his haunches, reaching over and grabbing something.

“Phone for you.” Osamu whispers, handing it to you, not halting his hips for no one. You grab it, darting your eyes at him as his dick kissed your cervix.

“H-Hello?” You croon, trying to sound like you’re half asleep.

“Y/N? Did you go home? Where’d you go?” You hear Hinata ask, unable to answer right away as your mouth hangs open at the searing hot pleasure Osamu’s cock brought you.

“I-I.. Yes. Sorry I didn’t wake you. I just- ah.. didn’t feel well.” You lie, biting your lip and rubbing soft circles on your sensitive clit as Osamu fucks your harder.

“Well, you coulda stayed over. I would have taken care of you.” Shoyo lectured, your mind not even fixated on what he’s saying to you.

You nod as if he could see you, looking up at Osamu with pleading eyes, his thumb replacing your fingers as he played with your clit.

“Go on, baby. Tell ‘em you’re about to cream all over my fuckin’ dick.” Osamu huffs, almost loud enough for Hinata to hear. You chew at your bottom lip, eyes rolling back as Osamu works you open with his cock, hearing Hinata say something hoping you feel better.

The pleasure was too much, your mouth drooling as your lips formed an o-shape. Osamu laughs, realizing you’re way too dumb to rush Hinata off the phone. So he does it for you, like the nice guy he is.

“She’ll call back later. She’s too busy taking my cock to talk right now.” He says before hanging up, turning off your ringer and returning to his work on your cervix.

You blink away tears, throat hurting from all the screaming and whimpering as you approach another mind blowing orgasm.

“Hnnn, fuck, Osamu yes. Your cock’s so fucking big. Need it to make me cum, fuck! Hah shit!” You mewl, wrapping your legs around his strong waist.

“Yeah? Ooo that little fucker has no idea what this feels like, huh princess? Give it to me baby. Fuckin give it to me.” Osamu urged, eager to feel your gummy walls clamp down around him and milk him for every ounce of his cum as he brutally slammed his hips down into you.

“You’re my little whore, yeah? Like it when another man fucks your greedy pussy? Such a dirty slut. Say you’re a dirty slut.”

“I’m a dirty slut, Ah! I-I’m your dirty slut, ‘Samu. Uhhnnn!” The last thing you say before clenching around Osamu’s size, his cock throbbing furiously before erupting in white hot globs of his cum.

It was all so filthy, so raunchy and so wrong. Guilt was the furthest thing from your conscience though, laying limp and half asleep as Osamu pulled out and went to grab a towel to clean up. How could something so erotic be wrong.

You’d call Hinata tomorrow, try and explain everything when the time was right. But for now, you’d just lay there in your stupor, high off the euphoric orgasms you’ve experienced just then.

Tomorrow you’d make it right, even though it probably never could be.

[wincestismyguiltypleasure]

Love weecest wet dreams but we need to talk about it when they're older. They pass out on the same bed after an exhausting hunt, so tired they didn't even get out of their dirty blood stained clothes. Sam's so out of it he doesn't realize he's been grinding on Dean's thigh until he's just about to come. -💕s-o-s

SAMMY, T H I S. PLEASE AND THANK YOU. 👌

-----

It's unbearably hot in their motel room. The ancient AC unit in the corner rattling loudly as it struggled to combat the muggy Florida heat. But that's not what wakes Sam up. His skin is slick with sweat and red as a maraschino cherry but he can't blame the weather. No, it's definitely the sticky-hot prickle Sam feels in the pit of his stomach that makes his eyes flutter open and his hips jerk forward.

"Oh God."

Sam's mouth is so dry, his voice low and raspy, sounding foreign even to his own ears. He's groggy, but painfully hard, blinking a few times before he realizes that he's desperately grinding against something warm and solid. Dean's name still lingering on the tip of his tongue.

"Easy baby." Sam lets out a surprised gasp when he feels Dean's teeth nip playfully at his throat. Strong hands settling on Sam's hips, grip tight and unforgiving, holding the younger man in place, despite the fact that Sam was struggling. So hard and desperate to move that he can't even make sense of Dean's words. The sound of his needy, high-pitched whines bleeding through the paper thin walls of the dimly lit room in a matter of seconds.

"Dean, please," Sam pants, wrapping his long fingers around Dean's biceps. Frantically grabbing at his brother's sweaty skin to pull him closer. "Please just touch me."

Dean's half asleep himself, his bright green eyes heavy lidded and his hair is a mess. But somehow, he still finds the wherewithal to give Sam that signature smirk of his and it's absolutely infuriating.

He looks so smug and gorgeous, even though he's covered in dirt and dried monster blood, and Sam wants him so bad right now that it physically hurts.

"I could touch you, sweetheart," Dean chuckles before rolling his little brother onto his back, left knee nestled tight between Sam's flexed thighs. "Or I could make you lay here and keep grinding against my leg like a needy slut."

The heat in Dean's voice sends a shiver up his little brother's spine and Sam's never been more embarrassed because it shouldn't have taken him this long to realize he could move. Dean's fingertips were too busy teasing Sam's flushed skin to be holding his hips steady and when Sam finally puts two and two together, his big brother doesn't even try not to laugh at him.

"Maybe I should have said dumb slut?" Dean whispers condescendingly as his little brother grinds harder against his leg. The rough drag of denim over Sam's aching cock making him whimper and claw at Dean's back like a wild animal. So close to the edge that he can practically taste it.

"You gonna come, Sammy?"

There's a hint of amusement in Dean's voice and Sam has never felt so humiliated and turned on at the same time. His muscles burn and his back is killing him but that cocky lopsided grin on Dean's face only makes him want to rock his hips faster. Harder. And if Sam wasn't past the point of exhaustion and desperate to get off, he'd probably be embarrassed at just how shamelessly he was grinding against Dean's thigh. All because his big brother got a kick out of watching him suffer.

"Do it," Dean growls, and Sam's not sure if it's the thick, humid air around them or the gritty sound of Dean's voice that's making it difficult to breathe. "You're already gagging for it, baby. Fucking my thigh like a bitch in heat. Might as well make a mess of those cute little panties you've got on while you're at it."

When Sam opens his mouth next his intention is to tell Dean to eat glass but before he can muster up the strength, Dean rocks his body upward, hard and deliberate, morphing Sam's insult into a strangled moan. That one last slow drag of Dean's muscular thigh over his cock making Sam lose it completely. Pleasure slithering up his spine like a snake, sinking it's fangs into Sam's neck and spreading that warm, euphoric feeling like deadly venom in his veins until his body starts to tremble.

"Good boy."

Sam hasn't even come down from the high of his orgasm when he feels his eyes slide shut. The comfort of Dean's praise and the weight of his brother's body on top of him lulling Sam to sleep despite how sticky and gross he felt at the moment.

"You really gonna pass out on me, kiddo?"

It's only then that Sam notices Dean is still hard, a sleepy smile spreading across Sam's kiss swollen lips when he says, all sweet and coy, "You can still fuck me, big brother."

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean looks every bit as wrecked as Sam feels, licking his lips hungry when Sam nods his head and shows off those adorable dimples.

"Fuck, baby. You're gonna be the death of me," Dean moans, pressing soft kisses down the length of his little brother's jaw.

And Sam can't help but giggle at that because even though he's exhausted and spent, he feels his cock twitch the second Dean reaches for his belt. It's so fucking painful but it also makes Sam's heart skip a beat and if he could find his voice right now he wouldn't hesitate to tell his big brother ditto.

[sheerfreesia007]

The Right Time

Title: The Right Time

Fandom: The Mentalist

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​​

Words: 1,335

Warnings: Fluff

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711​, @fioccodineveautunnale​, @phoenixhalliwell​, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​

Author Notes: I love anything about Egypt and knowing that Marcus is an art guy I had to write something birthday related with this guy. This is just super sweet and soft for the soft boyfriend. Hope you all enjoy!

Gif Credit: @mando-paskal​

         He smiles warmly as he watches you scrunch up your nose at him in a teasing manner. Laughter falls from his lips and he reaches across the table to grip your hand softly in his. This is it, this is the moment. And then suddenly it’s not, as your attention is pulled away from him to look over at the waitress who is sliding a complimentary plate of chocolate cake with a single lit candle stuck in the middle of it.

         “Make a wish sweetie!” cheers the waitress and he watches as you grin over to him with a wink before shutting your eyes and blowing out your candle. He cheers along with the waitress and he pulls away to clap his hands in celebration. Your eyes are sparkling over the table at him and he can feel the love radiating off of you towards him.

         “Care for a taste Pike?” you ask him in a sultry tone and he knows his eyes are darkening at your words as you hold out your fork with a piece of cake on it. 

         “I’d love a taste.” he coos back at you and he delights in watching your eyes widen in surprise at his boldness. He leans forward over the table between the two of you and wraps his lips around the cake and your fork before pulling back and chewing on the cake. “Delicious.” he says in a low voice and smirks softly as he sees you shift in your seat.

           “C’mon art nerd, let’s go!” you call out as you grab his hand and tug him along the second floor of the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. He’s smiling as he walks behind you, he knows exactly where you’re headed. To your favorite exhibits. It’s not the first time the two of you have come to the Smithsonian and it more than definitely won’t be your last. 

While he loves the Smithsonian American Art Museum your favorite was the Museum of Natural History. It was actually where he met you. He had been walking around the museum on his day off and had just walked into one of your favorite exhibits, the Janet Anneberg Hooker Hall of Geology, Gems and Minerals. He had spotted you almost immediately as you had walked around. He had kept his eye on you as he walked around using the time to gather up his courage to talk to you. But shockingly it had been you who had spoken up first. You had easily struck up a conversation with him about the minerals and gems that were on display, making him feel at ease as your conversation had moved from the exhibit in front of you to the other exhibits that you recommended for him to check out. He had asked you for a tour once you had told him that you had a membership and came weekly just to enjoy yourself. From then on the two of you had almost been inseparable.

So today as you dragged him to another one of your favorite exhibits he couldn’t help himself but feel the love and affection growing his chest for you. Your excitement was infectious and he could feel his blood pumping through his veins. When you had reached the Eternal Life in Ancient Egypt exhibit you had let go of his hand and began to walk around the room silently admiring the exhibit.

He kept watch of you more so than he looked at the exhibit. You were lazily moving about the room without any set direction as you looked at the displays. You were dressed in a pretty blue and white polka dot dress that came down to your knees with little heeled ankle boots on your feet. Your hair was pulled up into a high ponytail that cascaded down in waves and curls to about the upper part of your back. The background of the ancient egyptian statues and sarcophaguses made for a pretty picture as he continued to watch you. What better place than this, your favorite museum exhibit? 

His hand slid into his pants pocket and his fingers eagerly curled around the box nestled in there. He was moving to take a step towards you when suddenly there was a familiar call and he watched as you turned to greet your friend who had just spotted you. Halting his steps he let his hand slowly slip out of his pants pocket as he watched you and your friend hug warmly. He ambled over to you and your friend when you looked over at him with a bright smile. 

 The lighting in the restaurant was dim and romantic, the two of you were one of the last few couples in the restaurant. His eyes trailed over your skin that seemed to glow in the candle light on your table. He held your hand in his and gently traced his thumb over the back of your hand. He had to do it now, there’s no more perfect time. 

He slipped his other hand into his pants pocket and gripped onto the little box hat had been burning a hole in his pocket for the entire day so far. His heart was racing as he stared into your sparkling eyes. 

“Have you had a good birthday so far?” he asked tenderly as he smiled warmly at you. You grinned and nodded your head at him gripping his hand tightly in yours.

“Oh yes, it’s been wonderful. Thank you so much Marcus.” you gushed softly and he grinned at you as you scrunch your nose at him and then ducked your head. “But you know,” you begin to say with a wicked little grin sent his way as you pull your hand from his. He tilted his head to the side as he watched you cautiously. “It’ll be much better once I do something.”

“Do something? What do you need to do sweetheart?” he asks you with a look of confusion plainly seen on his face. He watches as you turn slightly in your seat to dig through your purse before you turn back around to him and slide a black velvet box across the table to him.

“I’ve been dying to ask you this question for a month now.” you confessed softly as you ducked your head forward slightly. Marcus can feel his eyes go wide as he realizes what you’re doing and then suddenly butterflies are filling his stomach and trying to escape up his throat. “I’m in love with you Marcus, have been for the past year and a half. And if you’ll have me I’d like to spend the rest of my life at your side.” you say softly as you look straight into his eyes projecting all the love you felt for him through your sparkling eyes. “So Marcus Pike, would you marry me and make me an honest woman?” you ask him with a teasing wink and smirk. 

He ducks his head as the emotions try to consume him but the smile on his face is wide and bright. When he looks back up at you he slides the box that he had in his pocket and slides it across the table towards you. He watches with delight as your eyes widen as you spot the box he’s sliding towards you.

“Only if you’d make an honest man and marry me sweetheart.” he responds to your question and you burst out in laughter before your eyes dart up to him and he can see the tears welling up in your eyes. You rush out of your seat and almost collapse in his lap. He’s ready for you though as his arms wrap tightly around you and hold you close to him.

“Yes, an infinity yes.” you whisper into his ear and he laughs happily as he hugs you a little tighter.

“Ditto, sweetheart.” he whispers into your ear and he can feel the bright wide smile pulling across your lips on his skin. 

[jacepens]

Ayo Uncle Tal! Can I have some mermaid!Washette AU? Please🥺🥺🥺🥺

(Aww Uncle Tal🥺) and yes you certainly may!! I’m sorry it took me so long to get this to you. Sadly I lost my writing mojo, but it’s all good now. I hope you enjoy this, Laya!:) and thanks for the ask!!

(Btw, ditto was a word used in this context at the time!! Is it necessary? Not really, I just thought it was fun)

***

Lafayette woke with a pounding headache and a dull ringing in his ears. His eyelids were too heavy and the little bit he could see through them was blurry and without form.

He tried to recall what happened before he got here, and where exactly here could be.

He pulled heavy arms and hands up to his eyes to try and rub away the crust and hopefully bring some life back to them. He blinked a few times to get rid of the remaining, heavy tears and was astounded by what he saw around him.

Colorful coral reefs and crystal blue water tickling his feet while waterfalls, shimmering purple and gold, splashed all around him in the gorgeous little enclosure Lafayette found himself in. So caught up in staring was he that he almost missed the person swimming towards him.

“Oh!” Lafayette smiled as the person drew closer. He frowned in thought, “would you mind telling me where I am, sir?” And then he noticed the necklaces and strange clothes that covered the man’s broad chest, blue and gold with an iridescent sheen that led his eyes down to the water. And to the beginnings of a fin.

He immediately jumped and scrambled away, heart pounding out of his chest until he was stopped by a throbbing pain that shot up through his calf. He hissed and instinctively reached down to inspect what was causing such a throbbing pain, but the creature’s hands were there first.

Lafayette felt his cheeks grow hot at the brief contact their fingers made and he was surprised to find the...fish’s? hands were quite warm. And that he had quite a handsome, human face.

“Does it still hurt, then?” The man’s low voice rumbled with quiet concern, “I have never witnessed a human unsuspectable to our healing, but there are always new discoveries to be had.”

“Wha- what?” Lafayette swallowed.

The creature looked up and Lafayette’s heart beat faster at having those beautiful, smoky eyes trained intently on him. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

Lafayette shook his head.

The man frowned, “your leg was pierced by a musketball.”

Lafayette’s blood went cold. “What are you talking about?”

“The battle. Whatever you were fighting for, I know not, but in said battle, I witnessed you collapse from gunfire.” The man turned the other way, biting his lip in contemplation, “I do not like to get involved in business that does not include me, but- well, they left you for dead. I watched you call out and catch many’s attention and yet they- they abandoned you. I simply had to help you.” His rescuer smiled a bit at him.

He heard a splash next to him and looked over to see the creature had seated himself beside Lafayette. Lafayette could not help but gasp, heart beating faster as he got a good look at just what had been hidden underwater.

Lafayette gulped. It was like a fish’s tail, but with large, blue scales that glittered with golds and reds. Transparent fins with what he assumed were veins flanked the sides of the powerful tail and of course, at the bottom where the fin idly splashed at the water.

“I am a mer.” Lafayette looked up to see the creature, merman, staring at him with a slight blush to his still oddly human cheeks.

“And I am Lafayette.” The merman laughed, a warm sound that made Lafayette’s heart flutter.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Lafayette. You may call me George.” George held out his hand and Lafayette shook it, continually surprised by it’s warmth.

“Thank you, George. For saving me,” Lafayette grinned sheepishly, “I do not know how I can begin to repay you.”

“My only price is your silence. My kind isn’t exactly enjoyed by yours.” George looked at the water, a hint of sadness glistening in his eyes.

Lafayette scooted closer, both to be closer and offer what little comfort he could with what was clearly a distressing topic for the merman. “So I will not see you again?” he couldn’t help but pout a bit.

George looked shocked, “Why would you wish for that?”

Lafayette hummed, “It’s not everyday that one gets to meet a merman and you are,” he giggled, “well, let’s just say the stories omit your kind's beauty.”

“Ditto,” The merman smiled. Lafayette chuckled, “Ok, charmer. How much longer until my leg is healed?”

“Oh, that?” George shook his head, “Uh, yes, you should be fine now. The scales will fall off once the wound is healed.”

“Scales?” Lafayette cried, bringing his leg closer for the first time to inspect just where he had been shot. Well damn. The merman wasn’t joking. There was a neat patch of golden scales over his calf, just as glittery as George’s.

“I would recommend that you do not try to poke them too much. They are like bandages, only much more clean and they will not infect you, simply fall off when they are ready to.”

“Right,” Lafayette breathed, gently passing his fingertips over the bumps. “So I-”

“It would be in your best interest to go now, Lafayette.”

“What?” He snapped up.

“Do you wish to return to your army and kind?”

Lafayette frowned, he wasn’t quite sure. If the army truly did not care for his well-being did he have any business returning? Besides, he had already found something much more worthwhile. More like it had found him.

“Lafayette, your absence has been long now, they will think you dead,” George insisted gently.

Lafayette let out a long sigh. “I suppose you are right,” he said, “Will I see you again?”

George’s face lit up, “of course you will.”

“Is that a promise?”

The mer’s lips quirked up for a moment. “It is.”

“Good. Then I shall leave now. Which…” he trailed off, looking at his surroundings. “How do we get out?”

“We swim of course.”

Lafayette stared at the deep, dark water that looked like it stretched for miles. He took a quick breath, “George, I cannot hold my breath for that long!” Lafayette tried to keep the panic out of his voice but already the prospect of swimming through that darkness unable to breath had him reconsidering everything he had said thus far.

“I know,” George replied simply. And then lips were pressed against his own.

He froze in shock, heart beating but not quite out of fear any longer. Again, he was surprised at the warmth when he assumed an ocean dwelling creature would be cold. But George, so warm and with lips so soft that Lafayette realized he kissed them again, and somewhere his eyes had slipped shut. And then George pulled away. His cheeks were flushed a deep red, perhaps even more red than Lafayette’s own.

“That should suffice.” George sounded a bit breathless and Lafayette was breathless. But the merman grasped his hand tight and Lafayette felt he could trust George as they dived down through the water and amazingly - Lafayette could breath as if he were on land.

[awhilesince]

Monday, 2 August 1830 (travel journals)

5 25/..

11 1/4

ready in 3 /4 hour – saw them all off at 6 20/.. – then went to the barracks near an hour there 88 in 1 stable 28 young in another – fed every 2 hours – ordinary allowance per day 8 lbs. [pounds] avoine 12 fourrage 15 straw (paille) besides sonde (mashes)? at noon – 1 very strong large norman (gray) 3000/. others 1500/. to 2000/. price – all stalons – some as colts bought at 400/. from 15 to 50 mares allowed them per annum – several crosses between this Country breed and barbes – some English horses – the man said they got thicker in the neck by the climate 8 of the horses aux caux – some sent every year – one a very fine gray sent because he coughed a little and they were afraid of his wind – some Turkish horses some de Limoges and some Norman, and some pure breed of the Pyrennees Gray or dark bay pretty little clean legged animals 1 man to 4 horses – all apparently very gentle all done by kindness – the manège not so fine as I expected –

drizzling rain from 6 25/.. – thick no view – back at 7 1/2 wished to be off in an hour – no horses till 2 – breakfast – went to my banker – all business at a stand – choice whether to take 25/. or not – yes! for £50 circular –

appalling news from Paris paid the bill here for us all – always give 6/. to the servants find Jean gives 2/50 more for the servants – so it seems we give altogether 8/50.! Sat writing journal and to my aunt till 2 –

off at 2 6/.. – Tarbes really a nice little town – 3 churches – the cathedral a small poorish concern, nor much of transepts near side aisles at all – the church I was in this morning (St. Anne’s) a poor little place, but almost as good as the cathedral – the steeple that seems to have belonged to a tolerably good church is merely part of what is left and now filled with forage for the cavallery – neat barracks (saw them this morning) built for them very lately – I have been more comfortable at Tarbes than anywhere – have nowhere had so good a room –

drizzling rain Till from 6 25/.. to after 12 – then began to clear a little and on leaving Tarbes fair and streets dry and atmosphere clear enough to leave the mountains pretty distinct – quite a farce to compare them with the alps – Tarbes seems placed at the foot of a wide Extended circular gently rising rich fertile plain stretching out obliquely on the right into a sort of isthmus or neck

the high pyrennees sweeping about 1/5 of the circle left Towards the front – and below them a low range of hill extending all round to the neck closed in by a low range quite in the distance the low range in front covered with wood – the other parts yellow with corn stubble (harvest everywhere since before Bordeaux got in) or ploughed land; or wooded or green under vine cultivation – the lands here seem no where more than 4 feet English at most – look like filons, threads – great deal of bled de Turquie – just out of Tarbes pass thro’ orchards of peach trees oppressed with vines –

Fahrenheit 74° at 2 40/.. and quite cool and pleasant – the dust just agreeably laid – the church of Ibos high squary mass (left) a fine object – 1 small tower – the houses of the town not seen till one mounts the hill – and seems a large one had been taken down as low as the roof of the nave –

at 2 began to feel a little indigestion pain and now at 2 3/4 feel it more was it the mutton last night – I never by any chance touch meat without feeling it, and have it not when I stick to my vegetables! –

as we reach the wooded range of hill 3 traverses up it, get out – walk to the top of the hill and 1/2 way over the ridge in 20 minutes and got a good heating in spite of the fine cool hair for the man urged his horses up as fast as he could without stopping and it was hardish work to get much before him –

mountain side wooded chesnuts – near the top heather – top brackens which completely subdue the heather and merely a bit here and there to be seen thro’ it – a few black sheep (hill and heather always make good mutton) and a few horses, i.e. mares and foals – a little scattered generally straw thatched? village – small enclosures – hedges full of thorn and sloe and wild roses hedge row trees – chiefly oak – a few chesnuts gravelled road – fine oaks each side the road and straw thatched and some blue slated neat farm houses here and there vines, a few peaches and much maize –

picturesque straw thatched cottages – women with their red capulets bound with black spinning with a distaff under their arm and the bobbin Twirling against their aprons – beautifully green pastures – fine chesnut Timber as well as oak, hiding the picturesque cottages –

how I enjoy this – I might be – could fancy myself in England save for the capulets, and odd little low narrow waggons and bells and clumsy gear of my 3 abreast carriage horses –

another village – fête here too and dancing to a fiddle and clarionet – peaches and nectarines in the hedges – have no where seen hedge cut and laid – always or buckheaded rather short or clipped – great many pollard oaks, particularly in hedge rows – these pollard oaks form capital hedges for shelter – wherever not cultivated the top of this ridge covered with bracken, and right look up pretty little valley – mountain-top valley evidently small green enclosures by hedges –

road mended with pretty well broken boulder of mountain (primitive?) limestone – dark coloured, veined with quartz? have only seen one patch of oats – standing and another in swathe nothing but maize and a few potatoes –

at 3 55/.. neat white washed hotel des voyageurs a few little accacias and platannes round it and shearing (a man and woman) a good plot of oats – a man and woman courting by the roadside he putting his hand into her right pocket hole and another pair walk amorously set me wrong between three and four which ended in incurring cross about four

about 1/4 hour on the top of the hill and at 1 1/4 very fine view descend into the beautifully wooded rich charming vale of Pau? sprinkled in all directions with towns villages and pretty thatched white washed cottages and farms – water would make it lovely quite – ‘route bordée et ombragée de bois touffus (pollard oaks) – de chênes and châtaigniers all along – the at 1st thro’ a forest and very beautiful Itineraire Midi page 70 says ‘ou est Toujours dans les riches et fertiles plaines de Tarbes’ – these ‘bois touffus’ pollard oaks are really beautifully and thickly umbrageous – should not have dreamt they could look so well – pollard from a thick trunk perhaps 10 feet high from the ground – small enclosures – pretty low hedges – small dun cows picturesque straw thatched or blue slated white washed cottages – charming (very small dun oxen dragged the little waggons and carts on the Top, the plateaus of the hill – pigs lying and feeding under the oaks –

at 4 29/.. good post house in the very picturesque scattered one long street (trees and gardens between the neat houses) village of Les Bordes-d’Expoey red-dun cows with bells and regular dun mare with one young mule and a brown mare with ditto – green champs Elysée of oaks at this end of the village under which herds pigs lying and feeding – Lombardy poplars – Charming the women here with white bound with black capulets and black aprons and spinning as they walk – lock under the left arm and spinning with left hand and twirling the spindle with right hand – said George 10 sols de payé – oui – said the postillion ce quelque chosée pagata –

off in 8 minutes – all the walling done with boulder stones in a cement chiefly blue slated cottages – vines creeping high in the trees – wood côteau – low line of hills right – higher range wooded at bottom heather at top (right) – groves, as it were of pollard oaks – why pollard? postillion from here whip slung round his shoulder with a large worsted tassel as the german postillions sling their bugle horn – the men wear Ayrshire caps – white with red tassel at the top – or one postillion as have observed before wellington blue without tassel –

I enjoy today’s drive exceedingly –

Long straight road before me from Bordes d’Expoey the hedge row trees generally pollard oaks forming sort of avenue all along – all the women spinning but have only once seen some women heckling short line – woman astride white black bound capulet and white handkerchief and blue coarse linen? small white spotted gown with her long petticoats covering even her toes – I think she had her knees much stuck forming a hump on each side not ungraceful under the petticoat and certainly not looking masculine –

so many people afloat on the road near all the villages must be a general fête? – quite in the basses Pyrenées now – left the high pyrennees on descending the hill into the beautiful valley of Bordes d’Expouey or does mist hide everything (left)? at a little distance (right) a low nicely wooded fertile range which wheels round towards the front of me but soon wears itself out –

a great many of the country waggons on the road – most of them drawn by 2 little dun oxen and 2 little horses wrapped up in linen sheets white first the leaders – the road all along quite gay and in places thronged with waggons and people –

the women that ride have their petticoat slit open fore and aft I see and thus it so covers gracefully will covers the whole leg and foot – get prints of all this and the waggons at Pau – pass malle poste at 5 3/4 – strange to find common sense only among the Pyrennees – where else do the women ride astride! where else do they not torture their horses and themselves by a position equally dangerous to the one leg unnatural and uncomfortable to both? –

at 5 3/4 a little drizzling rain begins – Fahrenheit still 73° – all alive in Pau a fair or fête or what? a fair? enter by long small boulder stone paved street (paved or boulder-stoned as at Tarbes) – desperate to walk on in thin shoes – a sort of gateway (2 posts) spacious street – of splashed dirty white good 3 story houses – full of people carts and business –

at Hotel de France Pau at 6 – heard all the news from Lady Stuart – dinner wrote to my aunt not directed at 7 1/2 – came to my room at 10 20/.. – Fahrenheit 74° at 11

left margin:

Fahrenheit 73° at 4 1/4 p.m.

reference number: SH:7/ML/TR/5/0027 - 0031

[writingsbysam]

Under the Stars

The stars twinkled together; endless jewels scattered across the night sky. Lyra’s eyes were dark mirrors of the heavens, lit up by the clearest view of the Milky Way that an LA boy like him had ever seen. She gazed up at them with a longing he’d never seen before set on her face. The hood of the broken-down Chevy was cold beneath them, having stopped a little over 8 hours ago. She heaved a sigh and spoke quietly,

“You know, my mom would’ve loved this,” she turned to face Ty, “She always told me astounding stories about the stars and space and when I was a kid, I often thought...” Her face hardened suddenly, “It doesn’t matter, actually.” Ty looked at her for a long moment, holding his gaze to her eyes while she gazed skyward.

“Do you think she’s worried that she hasn’t heard from you?” he asked. Lyra choked out a bitter laugh.

“She’s been gone for more than half my life, Miller. I can barely remember her face,” she scowled. He huffed in sympathy.

“I get that,” he replied, “she’s not dead but she might as well be.” Lyra looked at him for clarification. “She disowned me when I was 13 for kissing my first boyfriend. I haven’t seen her in 10 years.”

“Two bisexual disasters get stranded in the desert,” she joked, raising the shitty beer they’d stolen from their kidnapper up to her lips.

“Who was it for you?” he asked. She smiled wryly.

“Angelina Jolie as Lara Croft, I may have a thing for genius women who could kill me,” she laughed, “You?”.

“Mmm,” he hummed, “Gregory Peck.” Lyra raised an eyebrow. Ty laughed and continued, “my mom made me watch ‘Roman Holiday’ in an effort to make sure I didn’t turn out ‘wrong’,” he gestured to himself, “it clearly backfired. I watched ‘The Big Country’ about seventy times.” He raised the bottle to his lips.

“That’s not a bad one, actually. I think I watched ‘Gilda’ until the VHS tape broke,” she laughed, “though I never really found Glenn Ford that attractive.”

“It does have that weirdly homoerotic love triangle with Johnny and Ballin though” he pointed out. A laugh escaped her lips, and she tilted her bottle at him,

“Fair.” The moment turned somber for a second, and she looked over at him.

They both spoke at the same time.

“I li–”, he started.

“You kn–”, she began. They busted out giggling.

“You first,” Ty said. She nodded.

“You know I don’t really hate you right?” she confessed. It sounded as if she was confessing to a terrible crime, as if there was a gun at her back or a disease in her veins.

“Ditto,” he admitted, taking a large swig of the alcohol in his hand.

They sat in silence for a long time after that, the only noise the sound of crickets and their own breathing.

“I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid,” she spoke up a time later.

“What?” he was puzzled.

“You asked me earlier, about what I thought about the stories my mom told me. Well, I wanted to be an astronaut. My mom told me science fiction stories and so I wanted to be an astronaut,” there were tears in her eyes as she whispered, “I wanted to escape.” He looked at her like she was a stained-glass panel, so beautiful, so fragile, as if one tap could shatter her into a trillion pieces, glittering like the stars above them.

“So why didn’t you?” he found himself asking. She glanced over at him before looking back up at the heavens.

“I’m not good enough for that,” she laughed bitterly, “the Devil can’t get back to Heaven, Ty, and neither can I.”

Ty simply looked up at the stars and sent a silent prayer for his newfound friend to any listening universe.

The night moved on around them.

 

[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 35)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 877

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​​​​​​, @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​​

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

News hit fast the following night when they found Doakes’s rental car. They quickly ordered all of you out, looking for him. Cars, boats, and ATVs were out all over the everglades area searching for him when a loud explosion went off. 

Panic ripped through you. 

Dexter.

Was he at the cabin? What the hell happened? What was that noise? 

Everyone began moving towards the explosion and calls were made to fire departments and paramedics. You were running faster than anyone to get to the source of the sound, and when you finally got there, you saw the cabin -- leveled. Nothing remained. 

Your initial instinct was to burst into tears. Of course, Dexter was with Deb tonight, she got the news of the manhunt, and Dexter would’ve been on the way to let Doakes go. If he was already in the cabin, letting him go…

But you couldn’t show that. You couldn’t show the utter heartbreak that was snaking throughout your body. Because no one could think that anyone was here in this cabin but Doakes -- why would they be? 

You were silently falling apart trying to keep your face composed when Spencer suddenly jogged up beside you. He wanted to reach your hand or console you too, but as well, he knew he couldn’t do it. 

The rest of the Miami PD and BAU finally caught up to you. 

For the next several minutes the search for a body was on. You could barely function though, not knowing if Dexter was alive or dead. Where he was. 

It was the hardest thing you’d had to do. Inside you were in pieces. On the outside, you had to appear perfectly fine. 

The emergency vehicles started to show up, blocking off the incoming roads, searching for a body, trying to sort through all the debris and confusion. You finally got a moment to just stand and not do anything when suddenly, a voice came out beside you. 

“What happened?” Dexter asked and you turned to him, a smile tearing across your face.

“Explosion. They’re saying propane tank,” you explained. In a lower voice you said, “I thought you were in there. I was…” That was all you got out. 

“I’m good,” he assured, he put his hand on your shoulder briefly, giving you a bit of a grin to back it up. 

Dexter, you, Debra, and everyone else stayed searching the entire area all night long to locate anything you could to figure out if it was Doakes in the cabin. Finally, shortly after dawn, news came that there was a body in the water. 

Masuka came over to identify what he could from the body, or lack thereof. After some quick analysis, Masuka said he thought it was Doakes. 

A positive ID confirmed it a few hours later. 

You caught Dexter in the hall and pulled him to the side. 

“Hey, I just need to know… You didn’t cause the explosion, did you?” 

He shook his head. “You know fire isn’t my style,” he reminded with a bit of a grin.

You gave him a warning glare. 

“No. Ii didn’t do this. I was going to frame him. I know I told you I was going to turn myself in but just minutes before Deb got the call, she reminded me that my life is worth living and that just because Harry couldn’t live with me, doesn’t mean I can’t. I’m not a monster. I won’t let Doakes’s sacrifice go in vein though. I’ll live life to the fullest.” 

You bobbed your head. “Well, I’m not thrilled with the one option, but so long as this was an accident…” You threw your arms around him. “I’m so happy I still have you. I thought I lost you.” 

“I thought I lost you too.” He hugged you back tightly. 

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

The BAU compiled all the evidence, confirmed the profile was met, and considered the case solved and closed. Rossi and Luke were already working on getting all the evidence from the cabin, and you assisted with it. 

Over the next day, there was a whirlwind of shit that involved Lila, Rita, and her kids, but you were able to assist Dexter with that quickly. 

All that was left was packing and leaving. You had to stay behind and fill out reports. Spencer said he’d go to Dexter and invite him for one last dinner before you two left. 

“So this is it?” Dexter asked from across a table. You three were sitting outside at a restaurant. 

“I guess so,” you said with a  sigh. “I’m going to miss you.” 

“Ditto.”

“Stay out of trouble, please?” Spencer requested with a tiny smile. 

“Oh, I fully intend to, doctor,” he shot back with a smirk. 

You three chatted for a long while, up until the very last second you had to leave for your plane. You cried as you hugged Dexter, but of course he just laughed at your tears, stating he wasn’t dead. He said he’d come up to visit DC in a few months if that would make you feel better. 

Then, you parted ways.

So you two jetted off, back home, to Washington D.C., with the Bay Harbor Butcher case, Miami, and Dexter Morgan all behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging:

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ITCM

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@zozoleesi​

[princess-of-riviaa]

23 - Chris Evans

tsunderebae009 said: Could you please maybe do Chris Evans 4,10,22,23. Chris as Dom?

official-and-unstable-satan said: I am begging for a hate sex scene with any one of those characters. But, bonus points if it's a generally /sweet/ character. Also, you're awesome

23. hate sex

PLEASE NOTE: I don’t actually think Chris is anything but a hot, steamy, sweet cinnamon roll that deserves all the love and snuggles and heartfelt blowjobs

...

“Go to hell, Chris!” you scream, angry tears threatening to spill out. God, you hate this man more than anyone has ever hated anything. He’s so fake, so pretentious, so desperate to please everyone around him--every single trait you despise in people. And what you hate the most is the one thing you refuse to admit to yourself: just how insanely, unbearably attracted you are to him. (You might hate him but you’re not blind. You’ve noticed those thick biceps before and the veins that pop out on his arms and neck when he’s emotional about something, usually when he’s yelling at you. You’ve seen him without a shirt before, too. Those abs, that chest hair, those tatts... God, it was like he was born just to drive you insane. There was nothing that got you as wet as the sight of him without a shirt.)

“If I’m going to hell, then you’re coming with me,” he shoots back, and suddenly he’s in front of you, grabbing your arm and spinning you to face him. You open your mouth to call him a stupid name--but then he’s kissing you. The unexpected act freezes you in place. This is the last thing you were expecting to happen tonight. Perhaps the second last thing you expect to happen is the way your body responds to him. A sigh of pleasure falls from your mouth, muffled by his tongue entering your mouth--the tongue you’re letting enter your mouth.

What the hell are you doing?! your brain shouts at you.

But your body has a mind, a will, a desire of its own and it’s made clear very quickly that your brain isn’t in charge right now.

Your hands clasp for his hair, tugging at the roots on the back of his neck. He kisses you harder. You’re pulled against him and you realize you’re not the only one who’s fucking turned on by this simple kiss--his length, already straining against his jeans, presses against your stomach. You can feel the heat radiating from him through both of your clothes. It makes you all the more desperate for him. His hands are around you, lifting you, carrying you somewhere you can’t see. You don’t care, either. All you care about is his mouth on yours and the way he touches you so desperately it’s like he wants to possess you.

You don’t know how much time passes before you’re thrown onto a bed--his bed. Before the surprise can fully register Chris crawls over you and latches his mouth back onto yours. You arch towards him, your hands clawing at his shirt. He pulls back to pull his shirt off.

“I still hate you,” he breathes as he unbuckles his belt and jeans in a rush.

You move just as fast to take off your own clothes. “Ditto.”

It takes less than ten seconds for both of you to undress and your bodies to meet again. Every kiss, every touch is rushed. Both of you know this is over as soon as your brains catch up with your actions, so you’re trying to accomplish as much as you can is as little time as possible.

You reach for his length and gasp when your hand wraps around his shaft. He’s so thick, so long, it’s almost laughable. The idea of shoving that inside of you makes you almost... nervous. There’s no way it’s not going to hurt. But you force the sudden panic to settle as your hand moves up and down his length. He gasps into your mouth at your delicious touch and the sound is intoxicating. He grows harder in your hand, his cock already beginning to twitch, and the feeling of his body reacting to you like that empowers you--

He grabs onto your wrist, forcing you to stop moving your hand. “If you don’t fucking stop that I’m gonna cum, and I’m not coming before I’ve been inside of you.”

A moan falls from you at his words and your hips buck up towards him. Your pussy needs pressure and it isn’t getting anything. He understands what your body needs and lines himself up with your entrance.

“You better make me cum,” you growl just before he plunges deep inside of you. You release a whorish moan, the sound so loud and sexual it makes your face burn.

He begins moving inside of you at a pace you can’t keep up with. He doesn’t even bother to let you adjust to his size before he starts fucking you. It isn’t long before you’re moaning with every single thrust of his hips. His cock is so deep inside of you that you swear it hits your cervix with every thrust. His pelvic bone brushes against your clit every time he bottoms out inside of you and suddenly you’re writhing underneath him, your eyes rolling back in your head as you desperately clutch at the bedsheets.

“What was that?” he spits. “You really think I can’t make you cum? My cock deep inside of you isn’t enough for you?”

He waits for a response, but you’re too overwhelmed by pleasure to remember how to speak.

He chuckles darkly. “That’s what I thought. Take my cock like the good little slut you are. Take everything I fucking give you, you ungrateful slut.”

You cum around his cock. Your back arches as your mouth falls open in a silent scream. He fucks you through your orgasm, extending your pleasure for as long as possible. You gasp for air, so overwhelmed by everything that you can’t think straight. Chris doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even bother to slow done although it’s clear you’ve come back to reality. You try to push him away--your pussy is too sensitive after that earth-shattering orgasm--but he just grabs onto your wrists and holds them above your head. You cry out as the pleasure turns to pain. He fucks you so hard that the bed begins to move and bang against the wall.

“Fuck, Y/N!” he yells and pulls out of you. He only has to pump his cock once before he spills his load all over your stomach. The feeling of his semen landing on your skin in thick, hot stripes is a different kind of pleasure altogether.

“I still hate you,” you tell him breathlessly once he’s come back to reality.

He holds your gaze, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath he takes. He brushes his mouth against yours. “Ditto.”

[silentauroriamthereal]

A Meme

bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people

tagged by: @totallysilvergirl; therefore I consider it a command! Also, because you all know how verbose I am, I’m adding my own commentary at the bottom of each paragraph/section thingy. 

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch small animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see dawn (not willingly, but since I have to get up then, anyway, one might as well enjoy it!)/ the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

No, I have big, strong hands with tiny, child-sized nails, and that’s fine. Lol. They’ve gotten very tendon-y and vein-y since I took up weight lifting and lost a lot of weight and I love that. I love the sky at any time of day. I drink all the teas, except for rooibus, which isn’t even tea, and can go to hell. Sorry, sorry. If you like it, good. Who likes the smell of dust???? Seriously. Wise? I’m not completely sure about that one. Intelligent, yes. Wise? I do strive for wisdom, and sometimes I think I achieve it. I prefer silence, honestly. Being a classical musician definitely gives one a love for having not-music on. Hence my name. I don’t really meditate, but I did briefly take up tai chi again during the three months of my shutdown. It’s over for me personally, since I had to go back to physical work a month ago. Barf. I’d rather be at home. 

fire.

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

I have ridiculous hair. It’s very fine and would curl on a humid day if it’s behaving nicely, but if it doesn’t, it’s just frizz. In winter I typically dry it and straighten it, or it’s just lank and frizzy at the same time. Awful. I wore ripped things as a teen, but now I attempt to pass as an adult most of the time. I despise team sports but like doing sport-adjacent things on my own, like working out and swimming and such. I would love to learn to kiteboard, but it’s too expensive and I don’t have a way to get to a beach (no car, no money: classic). Dogs are Good. Unless they’re brainless morons (but really, even then!) I do like adventures, sometimes. I *can* talk to strangers and do it all the time. Professionally, even. About genocide. Lol. I don’t always want to, but I certainly can do it. New foods are fun. Road trips are pretty good, though I prefer planes and boats (but not cruises, gross). Fall is my favourite, especially in places that have maples. I don’t have a radio and loathe the sound of them. I haven’t heard a radio in ages, since, again, no car. 

water.

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love dimly lit diners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids’ shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

I almost never wear bracelets, but if I do, I guess the wrist is the normal place to put them. I do love cities. I’m very much a city person. That said, I’m also quite happy to escape to a lake/ocean/wilderness now and then. I have two holes in each earlobe, a piercing in my upper left ear cartilage, and used to have an eyebrow piercing until it was pointed out that it would almost certainly be detrimental for my then-opera career (fledging though it was...) I don’t often read poetry, but I do sometimes. Thunderstorms are fantastic. I love travel, though maybe not just now. Plus, again, no money. I am naturally nocturnal, but the world doesn’t accommodate that. If I don’t set alarms, within 48 hours my sleep cycle shifts to 5am-12pm. Like clockwork. However, I get up at 6:30am for work, so... I aim for midnight. I’m constantly overtired because of this. I loathe “nostalgic” Americana with a passion. I also hate children’s TV shows, and they’re not nostalgic because I wasn’t allowed to watch any of those shows. Nothing that wasn’t deemed educational. I don’t even know what this last one means. (Too pragmatic, I guess...) 

earth.

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love the chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

I wear glasses. I used to wear contacts, but one day - spring of 2009, specifically - my eyes very abruptly decided that they were not having contacts anymore, ever, period. So: glasses. I do actually like keeping my little apartment clean, but laundry is not my fave. I’m almost the opposite of a vegetarian/vegan: I’m keto/almost carnivore, lol. It’s what I need for my particular health/lifestyle goals. I eat mostly vegetables, meat, dairy, nuts/seeds, etc. Time? I’m half-German. Yeah: I’m punctual, and consider it highly rude not to be. My humour is sarcastic, silly, dry, dark - but not really “cheerful”, per se. People do come to me for advice. (”Dump his ass, girl!” Always. Lol.) I do believe in true love, though mostly for fictional characters. Lol. Mountain air: yes. Very good. I listen to music when I need to for music-themed work, or to walk or work out to. For me, listening to music is an active activity, not a background activity, ditto for podcasts, so I rarely do either, because it’s the only thing I can do. I work at being trustworthy, meanwhile. 

aether.

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i can love unconditionally

I don’t wear much make-up, but I do wear some. Nothing on my face itself, just a bit of light eyeshadow and mascara. I’m pretty organized. Where I live, if I smiled at everyone, I’d get meth addicts following me home. History DOES repeat itself and not enough people fear that nearly enough. I think I do love unconditionally, but to love selflessly is always something we can work at doing more and better. 

Tagging: @chained-to-the-mirror, @yaycoffee, @flannelsaurus, @inevitably-johnlocked, @cathykell, @bakingsherlycakes, @atisenia, @88thparallel, and @shiplocks-of-love. Just if you want to! 

[thebluenebula]

I don't have a whole pile to say but enjoy.

Masterlist

Day 4

Day 6

The New Bat Day 5

06:46. That's what my phone said when I looked at it. I groaned and sat up. After stretching, I got up and went about my morning routine, then headed down to the kitchen.

I flicked on the light and glanced round the room, empty. Must be too early for anyone to be up. No one would mind if I made a sandwich, I'm sure. After a minute of looking I found the ingredients for a sandwich. I sat down and munched on my sandwich. Not bad. Then again, how can you fuck up a sandwich.

After I was finished, I washed my dishes, plus some more that must have been from the night before. "My goodness!" The voice startled me. I turned around and saw Alfred standing in the door. "It's not too often anyone else around here washes their own dishes, never mind someone elses."

I giggled. "Good morning Alfred.

"Good morning Miss Ashleigh." Alfred said as he threw on an apron. "How did you sleep?"

"Okay, yeah. You?"

"Like a rock Miss Ashleigh. Any plans for the day?"

"No. None." I watched as Alfred took the dishes I had cleaned and began putting them away. "Sorry. I didn't know where everything went."

"That's quite alright."

"Do you have any coffee?" I asked. I was dying for some coffee.

"Yes. Over there's in the cupboard. I'll put on the kettle."

"Thanks." I opened the cupboard and spotted two jars of coffee. I grabbed the nearest one.

"I would recommend putting that back, unless you wish with losing a finger." Alfred stated. "That's Master Timothy's personal jar."

I put it down and grabbed the other jar. "Tim must really like coffee. That looks like a really expensive jar."

"Master Timothy lives on coffee. Sometimes I think it's what runs through his veins."

"Honestly wouldn't surprise me." Dick said as he entered the kitchen.

"Good morning Master Dick. Omelette?"

"No thanks Alfred." Dick walked over And grabbed some sugary looking cereal from the cupboard. "How are you settling in Ashleigh?"

"Good." I took a seat at the table. "Are you usually up this early?"

"I try to be." Dick sat down beside me with a bowl of cereal.

"You go out at night and wake up early in the morning?"

"Yep." Dick replied, taking a spoonful of his cereal.

"So you're both a night owl and an early bird?"

"Yup."

"So when do you sleep?"

"Mornin'." Jay interrupted, arms stretched, and yawning.

"Morning Master Jason. Omelette?"

Jay grunted and nodded before walking over and sitting down across from Dick and I.

"Morning." Dick looked curiously at Jay. "Speaking of early birds. You are not one Jay."

Jay grunted. "Nope."

"So why are you up?" Jay looked up at Dick then gave me a cheeky smirk. Dick looked between me and Jay. "What are you two up to?"

Jay smirked. "Don't worry about it Dick."

Dick looked at him. "I'm extremely concerned."

"Well you can be concerned after breakfast." Alfred said as he set down a plate of omelettes in front of Jay.

"You not eating Ash?" Dick asked.

"I already ate." I looked at Dick. "Ash?"

"Yeah." Dick took another spoonful of his colourful cereal. "Like a nickname. Ashleigh. Ash. I mean I can stop if you want me to."

"No. No. It's okay. It's kinda a cute name."

"Ash." Jay said to himself. "Sounds kinda deadly. Like a name for a pyromaniac."

"Cute and deadly." I smiled.

"That's should be Cass's tagline." Steph said as she walked in.

"Morning Miss Stephanie. Omelette?"

"Sure thing Alfred." Alfred handed Steph a plate as she walked by and sat down beside Jay. "So what is it we're talking about?"

"Ash." Jay said bluntly

"As in the stuff from fire?" Steph asked curiously.

"No, as short for Ashleigh." Dick corrected her.

"Sounds like a pyromaniac."

"Told you." Jay said triumphantly.

"I still think it's cute." I stated.

"And deadly." Jay added.

"Ashleigh doesn't look like she could hurt a fly." Steph commented.

"I could hurt a fly."

"She definitely could hurt a fly." Jay laughed.

Dick looked at him. "I feel like I'm missing something."

"Ditto." Steph looked at Jay.

Jay took out his phone. "What is this?" Dick asked.

"Just watch." Jay replied.

We watched as I lifted a rifle and fired it at the target. Kate standing beside me. I watched as Dicks eyes widen. The video ended.

Dick took a deep breath. "You gave her a gun." He said slowly. Jay nodded. "The one thing I specifically asked you not to."

"To be fair. You gave us a long ass lecture, and specifically told me not to do a lot of things. I cant be expected to remember them all." Dick silently stood up and gestured for Jay to follow him as he walked out of the room. "I think I just earned myself another lecture."

"Should I tell him that it was my idea or something?" I asked, trying to help Jay out of trouble.

"No." Jay said as he stood up. "I knew a lecture was coming." He stood up and walked towards the door. "See you three later."

We watched as he left. "So that's what you two got up?" Steph said.

"Yep."

Alfred took the half empty plates. "You don't seemed surprised Alfred." I commented.

"Once I seen you go off with Master Jason I knew there was probably guns involved."

"Very rarely that something happens that Alfred doesnt know about." Steph said.

"That includes what you and Cass got up to in the garden last week." Alfred stated.

Steph's face reddened. "Anyway..." She quickly changed the topic. "You up to anything after dinner?"

"No, and I don't think Jays gonna steal me today."

Steph giggled. "Do you bake?"

"Bake? Not often."

"How about this evening? Cass and I were going to do some baking this evening. Maybe you wanna join us?"

"I thought all the kids were banned from cooking?"

"Miss Stephanie and Cassandra are allowed to bake once a week." Alfred explained.

"Are you claiming I'm not a competent cook, Alfred?" Steph questioned.

"That is precisely what I'm claiming."

"Yeah. That's fair." Steph admitted.

"So who is a competent cook?" I asked.

"Myself, of course." Alfred said. "Master Jason, and Miss Kate."

"There's like..." I started trying to count all the people I'd seen around the house, and gave up. "Fifteen people in this house, and only four can cook?"

"No. They can all cook." Alfred corrected me. "Only three can cook without setting the kitchen on fire."

"It was one time Alfred." Steph said. Alfred stared at her. "Okay, twice." Alfred continued staring. "Fine. A handful of times." Alfed smiled and walked over to the sink. Steph turned back to me. "So what do you say?"

"I'd love to." I said. "If that's okay with you, and Cass?"

"Of course." She replied and placed her hand on my shoulder. "Cass and I are excited to get to know you."

I smiled at her. "Me too."

"Speaking of Cass, I wonder where she is? She's usually up about now." Steph looked to the door. "I'm going to go check on her. You want to come?"

"No. That's okay."

Steph nodded and said goodbye as she headed up stairs. I said goodbye to Alfred and headed to my room. I passed Harper on the way. She groggily said hello and headed into the bathroom. I smiled and headed into my room.

A couple hours passed as I sat around in my room scrolling through my phone. I glanced at my messages. I had a dozen missed texts from my friend back in Ireland. I honestly agent even thought to text her since I'd arrived.

"Hey." I texted her.

A few minutes later she responded. "Hey. How have you been? How's the move gone?"

"Its been good. It's different."

"How are the Waynes treating you?"

"Like family."

"That's greats. I'll have to come visit one day."

"One day. I'm still settling in."

"Call later???"

"Maybe. I think I'm baking later, but I'll see afterwards."

"You? Baking? That can only end in disaster."

"Haha. Let's hope not."

A knock on my door startled me back to real life. "Come in."

"Hey." Bruce said as he entered, holding a tray of food. "Dinner. Courtesy of Alfred."

"Thank you." I took the tray from him.

"Mind if I sit for a while?" Bruce asked.

"Not at all."

Bruce sat. I quickly checked the message I was sent. "Tell me how the baking goes."

"Will do. I gtg rn. Ttyl."

"Friend of yours?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah. From Ireland."

"If you ever want to bring someone over or go... back over," Bruce said. "I can arrange it."

"Thank you, but I'd like to settle in more first."

"Right." Bruce nodded. "Sorry I haven't been around as much as you had probably expected."

"It's alright." I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed, but I know Bruce did his best to set aside as much time for me as he could.

"You still want to go shopping tommorow?" Bruce asked.

"Yes. I'd love to."

Bruce attempted to hand me some money. "Kate mentioned you were afraid to ask."

I pushed the cash back to him. "Yeah but it's alright. Kate gave me some yesterday."

Bruce chuckled. "Of course she did. Take it anyway." He forced the money into my hand.

"Thank you."

"Never be afraid to ask me anything Ashleigh." Bruce smiled at me. "For money, if you need do be brought somewhere, anything."

"Thank you." I smiled. "I'm starting to sound like a broken record." Bruce laughed.

"Hey Ashleigh, you ready-" Steph stopped as she spotted Bruce. "Oh hi Bruce."

"Hey Steph."

"I was just looking for Ashleigh."

Bruce stood up. "I'll leave you two up to- whatever it is you two intend to get up to."

"Bye Bruce."

"See yah B."

Bruce stopped. "What time do you want to go tommorow Ashleigh?"

"I don't mind."

"How does eleven sound?"

"Yeah that's fine."

"Great. Talk to you two later." Bruce left Steph and I alone.

"I came to tell you that Cass and I were about to start baking."

I hopped up. "Oh cool."

We headed out of my room and down the stairs. "So you and Bruce going shopping tommorow?"

"Yeah."

"What are you going to buy?"

"Furniture and clothes."

"Got space for two more?"

"You and Cass?"

"Yes."

"You'll have to ask Bruce."

"Bruce never says no to Cass." Steph stated. "She's like his kryptonite."

I giggled as we walked into the kitchen. Cass stood by the kitchen island with a chef hat and apron on. "Hello."

"Hey." Steph grabbed a apron and hat and handed them to me.

I threw on the apron and looked at the hat. "Is the hat necessary?"

"No." Cass said.

"I think they're hilarious though." Steph added.

"Fair enough." I put on the hat. "So what are we making?"

"Strawberry shortcake." Cass said longingly.

"Cass loves strawberry shortcake." Steph explained, while grabbing a mixing bowl.

"So how do we make strawberry shortcake?" I asked.

Steph held up a sheet. "Got it all written down."

We began baking and chatting. I learned a lot about Steph, not so much about Cass. Almost two hours later and we placed the cake into the oven. "That was very enjoyable." I said.

"Yeah." Steph said. Cass nodded in agreement. "Now we wait."

"How long?" I asked.

Steph looked at the instructions. "Uhh... a while, I guess. I forgot to write that down. We can just guess."

"Like an hour?" Cass suggested. Steph and I nodded in agreement.

"I'm amazed we didn't make too much of a mess." Steph looked around.

A bit of dough here and there, some flour on the floor, but nothing more then should be expected. "Alfred made it sound so much worse." I said.

"Oh me and Cass aren't too bad but if you get a couple of us together, it can be..."

"Messy." Cass finished her sentence.

"How so?" I asked.

She looked off into the distance dramatically reminiscing. "You ever try to get honey out of your hair?"

"No."

"Don't." She warned me

"I didn't intend to."

We both turned to look at Cass, who was giggling. "You smelt like honey for a week."

I began giggling, half at the thought of Steph smelling like honey, and half at the fact Cass was giggling. It was a contagious laugh.

"It wasn't funny." Steph insisted. Cass and I's laughter stopped as Steph slapped a handful of flour into our hair and stepped back. "You know white suits you two."

I blinked as flour dropped down by my face. "Oh." I began laughing again.

Cass leaned into me and whispered. "There's honey in fridge."

"That seems mean." I whispered back.

"I get flour hair, she gets honey hair."

"What are you two whispering about?" Steph asked as she watched Cass walk over to the fridge. "Cass?" Cass took a jar of honey. "Cass, no!"

Steph immediately ducked behind me as Cass came forward. "Don't get me involved."

"I'm using you as a human shield. Cass won't hit you." Steph insisted.

"Sorry Ashleigh." Cass said as she took a handful of honey. " Going to be messy."

Five minutes, and a jar honey later, and all three of us and the kitchen was covered in honey. "So now I understand what Alfred was talking about." I said as I took a glob of honey out of my hair.

"Sorry." Cass apologised. "Had to get Steph."

"That's fair."

"I hate you two." Steph moaned.

"No you don't." Cass said.

"No I don't." Steph admitted.

"You love us."

"I do, but I hate that I love you."

"What in the name of Barry Bee Benson happened in here?" Tim asked as he and Dick walked in.

"Cass started it." Steph said.

"Steph started it." Cass said at the same time.

Dick looked us and sighed. "Go take a shower, you three."

"At least it's not as bad as last time Steph and honey was involved." Tim said.

"That was your fault and you know it Tim." Steph angrily said as we walked by them.

"We'll clean it, after showers." Cass said as she followed.

"Don't worry about it." Dick said. "I'll clean it."

"Sorry." I said.

"Don't worry about it. It happens regurly here." Dick insisted.

"Also I- Im umm, sorry about... you know. The guns and stuff with Jay." I said.

Dick sighed. "No need to be. You get to choose what you do. Jay might be reckless with his own life but he'd never needless endanger yours."

"Thanks." I smiled at him.

"I'd give you a hug but... you know,

honey."

"Yeeeah."

"Now go have a shower." Dick said. "You know you're going to smell like honey for a week."

"So I've heard." I said as I walked out.

I walked up the stairs to the bathroom and jumped into the shower. After about two hours of washing honey out of my hair, I headed back to my room, and sat on the edge of bed and sighed.

"Something up?" Bruce asked from the door.

I hadn't heard him enter, perks of being Batman I guess. "No. Just thinking."

"About?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Are you okay, Ashleigh?"

"I'm fine," I smiled. "Just need some sleep."

"You sure you want to go shopping tommorow?."

"Yeah. Absolutely."

"Okay. I heard you and the girls were baking?."

"Yeah, strawberry shortcake."

"How'd it turn out?"

"I'm not sure. It was in the oven when we left it."

"Why'd you leave it?"

"We had to-" I stopped myself. Am I allowed to tell him? "Wash... uhh honey off... Yeah. "

Bruce sighed. "That's why Tim wouldn't let me in."

"I think Dick was going to clean it, while we washed."

"I won't ask the why."

"Probably best."

"You coming down to taste the cake?"

"No. I think... I'm going to go to sleep."

"Thats alright. We'll save some for you."

"Thanks. Good night."

"Night."

Bruce shut the door and I lay into bed. I'm glad Jay didn't get into too much trouble with Dick. I felt kinda guilty for that. At least the baking was good. Steph is so nice and even though she doesn't say much Cass is sweet. A faint smell of honey filled my nose as I drifted off to sleep.