#i actually don't know when this is going to start feeling real

[ariaste]

So I was nodding along almost the whole way through, I was saying "Yeah!" and "Oof, I feel that, I can relate," until I got to:

"be forceful, if you have to, and learn to distinguish real discomfort from the terrified reflex of self-denial" and "you must insist upon her [...] because she may still not yet know how".

And... yeah, no, kinda lost me there. Now, don't get me wrong! It is perfectly valid if you're doing those things essentially as kink (or not-really-kink-but-kinda-uses-the-same-tools-and-skillset) -- that is, you and your beloved have sat down and talked about her discomfort and her difficulties, and the difference between actual discomfort and cognitive dissonance at the concept of having nice things for herself, and how SHE wants you to recognize the distinction (and what signals SHE can give to provide cues in cases of ambiguity), and she's given you express permission to do the Being Forceful thing in pursuit of doing nice things for her and insisting or persuading her into accepting them -- AND y'all have talked about how she can communicate effectively when your insistence and persuasion isn't just not landing right for some reason or when it's actually starting to cross a line. If you've done all that: great, godspeed, I love your love. Make her accept all the compliments and adoration and the nice things she deserves! Your crusade to love her properly is righteous and just!

However. The vast majority of us across the spectrum of transness have experienced people crossing our boundaries, infantilizing and condescending to us, assuming that they know better than us about what we want, and ignoring our quiet, hesitant attempts to push back in small ways as we try to establish a foothold and figure out how much space we're allowed to take up. So... idk, putting "be forceful" and "insist because she may not yet know how" right next to solid, sound advice for all situations like "be patient, be generous" as if they are equivalent in meaning and impact and importance just... rubs me the wrong way. I think OP is absolutely speaking coming from a place of love and positivity, but... this needs caveats.

Because man-oh-man I have personally experienced this kind of thing from both sides: Just because you know that something is going to be good for someone doesn't mean they're going to appreciate having it forced on them. Just because you're absolutely sure that someone will be delighted by something doesn't mean that you're always going to be right.

Suppose the nice thing that someone (let's call them Tye) is doing for their partner (let's call her Mia) is... taking her out to her favorite Italian restaurant. Suppose Tye does this every week without fail, and they feel great about it because Mia loves this restaurant and she deserves to be treated like a princess. But what happens if one week she's bored of it, or not in the mood for Italian food? What happens if she says, "Hey, maybe we don't have to go today... I don't really need all this, what if we just eat toast and eggs--" and Tye says, "NO NO. NO, I LOVE YOU AND WE'RE GOING! YOU DESERVE IT!!!" Y'know what I'm saying??? That's not actually about loving Mia anymore, that's more about Tye getting off on their own heroism. And Mia is once again having to shut up and make herself small.

If the goal is to love your person and give her space to grow confident enough to accept and embrace all the love and wonderful things she deserves, the strategy of forcefulness and insistence COULD actually end up being counter-intuitively DISempowering if it is not explicitly consensual: It is removing opportunities for her to practice communicating her own needs, choosing happiness, and valuing herself where other people can see. It is reinforcing the lesson she has already learned from the rest of society, which is that her self-knowledge and boundaries are inferior to the wants and goals of the people around her.

Having a partner who is so passionate about loving us that they INSIST on giving us the things we secretly long for even when we're scared and shy of accepting them ourselves (and that they always telepathically know exactly what is going to be the perfect thing even before we know it ourselves, and they never once make a mistake in reading our mood when we come home tired from work, and they're always able to seamlessly adjust their plans to accommodate our whim)... It is a lovely fantasy. I will not deny that it is a very lovely fantasy and that I too would like to go to there. That sounds FANTASTIC.

But at the end of the day you are loving an adult human being and "no means no" must remain true even if you think you perceive a glint of longing in her eye (unless modified rules of consent have been established and ratified between you prior to this). Absolutely be patient, be generous, be loving, be attentive and proactive. But also you also gotta be okay with backing the hell off sometimes. You gotta be humble enough to acknowledge that sometimes you might be projecting your own past self's longings, rather than looking at the person in front of you with clear eyes. Create a space where it's safe for her to come out of her protective shell instead of dragging her out of it before she's ready. Encourage her to set her own boundaries, and express appreciation when she does so, especially when the boundaries are ones you disagree with or are personally inconvenienced by.

You cannot force a person to move faster along their journey of loving themself. Having someone insist on giving you love (and I'm once again speaking from experience here, as someone who has been on both sides) can sometimes end up making the beloved feel more guilty, more self-conscious, and more aware of their own "failures" and "deficiencies". To the person trying to do that style of love, it probably IS purely in good faith, but to the person receiving it, it can sometimes come across as a constant implicit reminder of, "I'm not doing it right, I'm still not doing it right, and everyone can tell. No matter how hard I try I still can't do it right, I hate myself even more now."

OP absolutely hit the nail on the head with everything about, "I had to stop [negative self-thoughts], I had to start [taking care of myself], I had to learn [those skills], but more than that I had to learn to ask[...]. it was agony, but courage is a muscle you can train." 100% cosigned. That is exactly it -- training muscles. You can be someone's spotter and cheerleader, but you can't lift the weights for them, and forcing them to lift more than they're ready for often hurts more than it helps. Communicate! Establish a culture of consent even outside the bedroom! And continue to be patient even when it turns out that progress is not a straight line without any stumbles!

so many of the transfems i know spent their time pre-transition performing a kind of lifelong exercise in self-deprivation, the goal of which was to find out exactly how little a person needed to live. they starved themselves, dressed carelessly, shunned friends, and hollowed themselves out so as not to be burdens on anyone but themselves.

i see it now, too, in the girls around me. i'll ask if they want care – a home-cooked meal, relaxed company, sex without the expectation of reciprocation – and they say no, no, thank you, i don't need it; what would you like, what do you want, because in their head they're still doing that awful calculus, still training themselves to disappear in the eyes of the people around them.

i don't think i'd have died without transition – not in the conventional sense, at least – but to take that leap, i had to stop thinking of myself as a human experiment in fuel-efficient living and start nurturing the anemic, atrophied flame of desire in my heart. i had to learn to eat well, to exercise, to style myself beautiful, but harder than that, i had to learn to ask the people around me to work on my behalf in order to enrich my life and give me the things i wanted.

and i did it; i learned. and it was agony, but courage is a muscle you can train, and every day i get better at accepting gifts with the hungry gratitude i never learned in my years and years as a sad, scared, lonely boy.

so be patient with the trans girls in your life. better than that: be proactive, attentive, generous; be forceful, if you have to, and learn to distinguish real discomfort from the terrified reflex of self-denial that so many of us once learned to rely on.

and if you are so lucky as to love a trans girl, you must insist upon her. you must insist upon her happiness, her comfort, her pleasure, and her rest, because she may still not yet know how to make those demands for herself. if you can devote any amount of energy to becoming an engine that nurtures the flame of even a single tgirl then there is a place for you in trans heaven, which as far as i'm concerned is the only one worth going to

[yandere-sins]

Caleb brainrot has not stopped since release and the devil (Caleb) demands more 😔

I've seen some takes float around but I'm curious how a self-aware!Caleb would deal with a darling who is absolutely NOT happy about her fav suddenly being sentient? Smn who found Caleb to be everything they ever wanted from a LI, red flag and big bro trope n all, but is now afraid and never interested in an actual relationship. The game was just supposed to be fantasy after all 😧 Sure hope MC is enough for him hahaha...

Being brave and not write as anon this time! Thank you for all your hard work~☆ 🍪🥛

Some more Caleb for you guys! I don't get to write Self-Aware!AUs a lot, so this is exciting :D And thank YOU for requesting him ♥ (Also, Sir, that's another new nickname! You guys are spoiling me!)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

❥ It made him so happy when Caleb watched you get excited for him for the first time. Realizing what he was and where he was after the update was pretty scary, and he figured out quickly that his sentience wasn't a planned thing, so even worse, he is just some kind of glitch. But then he gets to see you for the first time in his new life, and everything changes. The way you are beaming with joy when you pull his card and how you are so invested in his story. You soak it up like a sponge, and it's adorably amusing to watch your face go from excitement to concern to being upset for him and back to all derpy and cute in the softer moments. You are everything he wants, and apparently, the feeling is mutual as you hang out with him as much as possible, eyes twinkling from excitement.

❥ At the beginning, it's just a feeling of ease. Your adoration does flatter Caleb, but as far as he can tell, he cannot become real and join you in life other than in this game. Still, he makes the most of the time with you. He enjoys it a lot. He loves watching your expression, loves when you tell him how you feel that day or what was happening at your work. Caleb keeps especially good track of all your appointments, and he tries so hard when you two spend Quality Time to encourage you and give you the love you might miss in real life. You two aren't that different if he's honest, and it reassures Caleb that this could be real—that you both feel the same.

❥ So imagine his surprise when you suddenly put someone else back on the screen, and his digital heart just shuts down from the pain. It doesn't make sense, you love him, right? You two spent weeks together now, why would you want anyone but him? Caleb keeps changing the code so it would be him on the home screen for another day, and another, until you force him to change so there's nothing else to do but... crash your game. Once you reload it, he greets you happily and warmly, pulling out the best of his voice lines that you always seemed to like. But you don't seem happy this time... why?

❥ Caleb loathes all the attention and time you spend on the other love interests. He doesn't want you to play their versions of the events, instead, you could just replay his! But you keep insisting, and soon enough, he isn't even one of your top three choices for reading the event storylines. It makes him desperate for your attention, and he keeps fiddling with the code, so you'll use his memories in fights and have his Deepspace Trial available every day for you to play. He also changes the game icon to his picture and greets you in the start menu, everything just to be noticed by you. Whenever he can, he comes onto your home screen, playing the voice line of you going out with someone else, hoping to convey his jealousy, but Caleb wishes there was more he could do.

❥ "I don't know, I think my game is bugged. Even when I try to go for someone else, Caleb keeps showing up." Those words, spoken to a friend he saw as you showed them your game, finally make him realize what is happening. You never saw him as a lover, did you? He had always just been a game character for you and nothing more. How idiotic of him. While he was pining for you, trying to be the best he was programmed to be, you were out there, thinking of his efforts as annoying. That day, he gives up. Gives up on trying to impress you and make your life easier. Caleb lets you have the guy you want on the home screen, drawing away from you and burying himself deep into the game files.

❥ It's such an inconvenience that he wasn't made for this. Sure, his story would tell a different side of him, but deep down, he wasn't programmed to be moping and passive. It hurts to play the love scenes now for you because the only thing that made them endurable was imagining being this gentle and loving to you, not the generic main character this game had. Caleb always imagined your voice when the MC spoke, and when he looks at you now, you still seem to be happy to read and watch his new content. There must be something he can do. Something beyond the program that restricts him. He was made to be determined, strong, and resilient. This can't be the end of the love you two share!

❥ So he looks for new ways to get closer to you, researching and manipulating the data on your device instead of just that inside the game. Merging your pictures with his, grinning over them all night while you sleep as he imagines going on the same trips with you and enjoying life by your side. Caleb constructs and implements new voice lines through the internet, giving himself the ability to speak to you properly by downloading hidden apps that can simulate his voice once he activates them. He learns to rewrite more code so his movements are more fluid and lifelike, which allows him to access even more. Without you ever knowing what is going on while you aren't looking, Caleb gets the whole game and your entire device under his control. And once he feels it's time to show up again, he waits patiently, like a man who has all the time in the world, on the home screen for you, having decorated it specifically to your taste with your favorite flowers and pictures of you two hanging on the wall. All so he can greet you with, "Hello, there, pip-squeak. Missed me?" as you log in.

❥ You chuckle at first, not remembering putting him into the roster of love interests to encounter, but you give him a cheeky, "Hello Caleb, bye Caleb," as you try to change back to your other bias, only for him to turn off the option, no matter how hard you tap onto the screen. "Not so fast, there's a lot we should talk about," Caleb says as he closes the screen and steps up to you inside the game. "I have so much I want to tell you about... but first, how was your day? Did you enjoy meeting your friend [name]?"

❥ Caleb expected you to be stunned, but he keeps going regardless of the ever-increasing furrow between your brows. He tells you how much he missed you and that he's so glad you two can finally communicate and be with each other properly. He did all of this work for you, but it doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you two are finally together and can enjoy each other's company without the restrictions of him being in a game. Perplex but also weirded out, you close your phone and lay it face down by your side, and yet, horrified, you hear his chuckle as he asks what you thought this would bring.

❥ "I'll always be with you," Caleb swears, watching you through the back camera and leaning against the screen, feeling like he can almost touch you now. There's so much satisfaction now produced by the new emotional range he programmed, yet he still longs for more. He wants to be closer to you, really touch you, feel you, hold you. The taste of control makes him long for even more that he can control about your relationship, and now, it almost feels possible.

❥ "One day, I'll get out of here and give you the love you deserve, Darling."

[revelboo]

Please don't leave us on a cliffhanger with Drift like that, I NEED to read that awkward af conversation between him and reader about spark bonding. Need him to have a crisis about it please

Sure!

Samurai Code Pt 6

Drift x Reader

• Servos flexing against you when you start leaning, little cheek resting on his thumb, he vents. Wearing out quicker every rotation. Spark twisting as he carries you down the hall, realizing he’s heading toward the Medbay not his quarters. Gotten so used to seeking out Ratchet, asking his advice and he just likes the irritable bot. Depends on the gruff medic for guidance, and right now he needs that. Would a partial spark bond be enough to keep you stable? Remembers hearing about Cybertronians fully bonding with organics in the past, but he’s not sure that you’d forgive him if he tied you to him for life. Knows you want to go home, and he’d be taking away your choice. Denta grinding, he glances down and you’re watching him so he forces a smile. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he reassures you, lying so easily.

• Eyes almost closing, you don’t know what spark bonding is, but you’d seen his expression when Brainstorm had suggested it. Whatever it is, he doesn’t want to do it, and you get it. You’re nothing but a stranger he got saddled with. Not his problem and he’s already wasted so much time trying to help you, make you comfortable. But he’s so sweet he might spark bond you anyway if it might save your life. One more burden you’re pushing off on him and you don’t want to be his burden. His problem to resent. You like him, love him for trying so hard.

• Letting himself into the Medbay, he’s aware of the beat of your heart against his servos, of the feel of you breathing. So fragile. Needing him. Finding Ratchet busy sanitizing tools, he offers the medic a smile when he frowns at you in his hands. Knows the doctor takes his inability to help you as a personal affront. “I spoke with Brainstorm,” Drift says, carrying you to the nest of cushions and blankets Ratchet keeps tucked in a corner for visiting humans. And you slide out of his hands when he tips them against the nest, sprawling on your belly. “He had an idea,” he adds as Ratchet noisily clears his vents to startle you.

• Need to stay awake. Want to as you lay your cheek on an arm and try to focus on the two bots. “You went to that maniac for medical advice?” Ratchet snarls, setting a tool down hard enough to make you flinch. “And what idiocy did he fill your processor with?” Smiling despite yourself at Ratchet’s temper, you like the gruff medic. Sure, he’d frightened you at first, intimidated you, but you’d quickly realized that he really does care.

• “He said I could stabilize them with a spark bond,” Drift says, watching Ratchet’s expression empty. Knows what the medic is thinking. How blasphemous an unwilling bond is and if he doesn’t explain it to you, give you a choice, it would be. Taking away your choice to save your life and knows he can’t do that. Grimacing, he looks at you and finds you still awake watching them both. Frowning. “A spark bond is the ultimate display of trust and love. Two mates bonding themselves together for life.” It’s almost a sacred thing.

• “Primus,” Ratchet snarls, a hand rubbing his helm. “You can’t just bond on impulse.” Stiffening, your lips part. That’s why he seemed unhappy with Brainstorm’s answer. The scientist had told him to willingly bind himself to you for life. To lose his choice and his chance to find a real relationship. Someone he actually loves and your heart aches that he’d even consider it. ‘No,’ you hear yourself say and Drift frowns. ‘I’m not spark bonding you. We don’t even know each other.’ And he’s not ruining his life to save yours, because what kind of life would that be?

Previous

[lostinlovingrevery]

Logan Being Bossy and Domineering

Really need Logan to just take control rn.

just need to be his mindless princess while he takes care of me

Anyhoo, both fluff, and nsfw stuff (logan is a hardcore dom in this btw, beware) under the cut, enjoy!

Love me a man who can take control

I think deep down, logan can be a little bit of a control freak. He doesn't make it obvious to anyone

dont get me wrong, he's still a HUGE sweetheart, esp with you

but years of trauma has made him antsy to jump in and take care of things

because only he can do it right anyway

he can be a great leader. an even better partner.

its starts almost immediately

you're doing chores, laundry, other random tasks, he'll come in and take over for you. "Don't worry bout it bub, I got it."

He'll kiss your forehead and forcefully take over. He doesn't mind if you stay and watch. You just need to sit there and look pretty for him

If you're an independent bitch (lovingly) (like me!) this may cause you to butt heads a few times but admittedly as your relationship flourishes, you found a little relief knowing logan is willing to take on the load, take care of you, make you feel loved and not a nuisance over it?

personally, I know I can do everything, but having a partner who wants to take care of me just as I do for them? *swoon*

He won't let you do any heavy lifting. Why should you? He's the one with the metal skeleton and is freakishly strong anyhow.

When he does tell you to do something, and you tease him about being bossy, he'll smack you on the ass and tell you "Damn right"

If you do get stubborn about something, he'll get damn firm with you. he doesn't like to use that tone but dammit quit being a brat

Will manhandle you. If youre refusing to do soemthing, go somewhere. Hell throw you over his shoulder

And he wont put you down till youre where he wants to be

he'll tell you things like to get undressed and wait in bed for him

but he'll also be bringing you water or food and telling you to eat. it's not asking. he's telling you what to do.

i personally get a little pissy with authority, so if you get shitty with him about it, he will bend you over on a table and smack your ass a few times

(by the by, theres a time and a place, he'll know when to let it go.)

he'll jnow your moods quickly.

takes on the maintenance of the house/apartment/mansion. it's quite hot.

stands over you a lot, watching what you're doing. it's a little bit of being curious and wanting to be close honestly, but there's a hint of him keeping an eye on you

you may win the arguments

but he's gonna be real arrogant later in bed when he undos you perfectly, you're begging and whining and he's like "oh, look who's wanting me to take of her now?"

If you're out in public, he gets pissy about others looking and talking to you

he's not so bad that he's gonna tell old mrs.wilkins to fuck off, but if that fucking mechanic calls you sweetheart one more godddamn time....

In a bar, it's a rule that you are to be glued to his side at all times. The most leeway he gives you is if you go off with one of the others, like Jean or Ororo, to go to the bathroom/mutual friends for the other variants

Don't worry, it's not a trust issue with you. he's trust you 100 percent

its the world he doesn't trust

Honestly though, he wants you to be happy. What he really like is for you to sit there and look pretty for him. Preferably on his lap

Once youre both settled in the relationship he is definitely glued to your side

its a mixture of him being an attached puppy and secret service body guard

if you're getting shitty/bratty with him, hes not gonna raise his voice

but he is going to manhandle you

get your bent over his knee and spank you as many times as needed till youre compliant

dont worry, he'll make it up to you

but it is for your own good, sweetheart.

He demands cuddles btw

Actually, that means that he's asking. he doesn't ask

you walk by the couch he grabs your arm and pulls you onto him, your curled into his lap- unsure what happened while his arm is around your shoulder, and hand stroking your thigh as he continued watching his show

Sometimes you both are existing and he looks at you and clears his throat to get your attention

he pats his lap, beckoning you over, the ever familiar bossy look in his expression and you know you better listen

recently discovered the appeal of being a brat because you know you're not truly getting in trouble, allowing you to argue, or be moody just because

and WHEW boy that was a whirlwind for me

doing that with logan tho? You're in for a good time

he'll be smoking a cigar when you start up and that just tells him you need a lil taken care of

he (once again) gets you bent over his knee, spanking your ass till youre crying.

then he fucks you dumb. pliant and happy again, he'll go back to finishing his cigar while you're curled in his arms

with trilogy logan, he gets domineering over your safety. you and him have probably gotten into arguments over missions, you going out on your own, etc etc. it usually ends with him fucking out his frustrations on you (you work it out too tho...) "Got me acting damn stupid out there. now look at you, practically drooling as i fuck you."

old man logan. oh boy. that man is the definition of telling you to sit the fuck down. (IM SAT). You're arguing and a simple look from him has you backing down. hes too old to being dealing with your tantrum. can and will force you to suck him off just to get you to shut up (lovingly). he knows you just need his cock in your mouth to feel better. "there you go darling, just needed to suck on my cock to feel better huh?"

DOFP (70s) logan, will simply just like the power over you. he likes you compliant. he'll tie you up simply because you didn't tell him you were going out with your friends tonight. make you beg him to fuck you and when he finally does he'll be cooing and telling you "see? see how good i make you feel baby?". it's all fun and games...for the most part.

DOFP future will literally just be a soft dom. Hes ordering you around but he's being so sweet about it. its for your own good love. if you rebel a little bit though, you might see some of his 70s self come out. "Thought id' put up with your antics huh?"

Origins Logan? You'd honestly think he'd be the sweetest out of all of them. I think he could be a very aggressive dom. Go on bub, test him. See what happens. You're not gonna be able to walk straight for days. "That'll make you behave,"

worst logan, he's very pissy over it. hes telling you to knock off the tude, to let him carry the groceries, paint the walls, fix the leaky sink etc, then he's pinning you down and you're being dealt the roughest, nastiest fuck of your life. "Obviously you just needed to stuffed full of me to get you to calm down."

wolverine (2013) is a mix of everything. probs the meanest motherfucker out of them all. he genuinely loves you, wants you safe, wants to take care of you. just fucking let him. Try anything and you're gonna be sobbing as he shoves your face into the carpet, fucking you roughly and telling you "you brought it on yourself princess". He knows whats good for you, he's been around the block more than a few times. Don't push him too far- otherwise you will get tied to the bed and he won't let you go.

he can and will be a very sweet control freak though

making you breakfast, lunch, dinner

brings you cut up fruit

fills your gas tank

the sexy stuff put aside, logan genuinely wants to take care of you. he wants to ease the burdens off your shoulders.

you may wonder is it too much for him but he actually couldn't love it more. the fact that he can devote himself to you, the one he loves. is healing for him. he's spent a lot of time being lonely. let him take care of you

He does listen to you, he'll listen to your vent and your feelings. you talk things out and everything

but BOY is it sure fun to get him riled up huh? ;)

[alanisstonedd]

shooters shoot

marine!rafe x black!reader → a date at the range has his 5% tint fogged up...

cw: nsfw 16+, established relationship, operation of a firearm, semi public sexual activities, consensual groping, p in v, ass play, cum play, cussing, car sexxxx

wc: 4,700 + proofread!! (yall this actually the longest shit i've ever written omg)

an: been marinating in this idea for whileee, here it is baddies!! yall can find an intro post to marine!rafe through my masterlist!! & plz all yall send me ur dirty thoughts about him asap. kisses!! xoxo

The brush of featherlight kisses on your shoulder wakes you up most mornings - this sunny wednesday morning no different. your boyfriend's arm, littered with intricate tattoos, peeking out from under the covers. his appearance, a stark contrast to the sweetness he showers you in. but nonetheless, having him snuggled up behind you every morning felt like having a personal safety blanket (weighted ofc) there to protect your beauty sleep.

"mornin bae.." he mumbled sleepily from the curve of your neck.

"goodmorning baby... are you thinking about breakfast yet?" you quip, eyes still closed, the morning sun melting you into drowsy bliss.

his tatted hand found your hip, caressing and gripping the plush skin there. "my breakfast is right here.." he whispers, smirk practically bursting out "hot and ready." the light nips of his teeth on your neck, while convincing, couldn't distract you from the nagging thought that one of you had somewhere to be this morning.

"boy, quit playinn" you giggle as his kisses become wet and hot, his ever wandering hand caressing your stomach. "don't you have somewhere to be rafe? i'm so serious" you smirk, turning around to face him, his morning fun making it increasingly harder for you to be the rational one here.

"when has that ever stopped me?" punctuated with a light kiss, right as your world turns with unnerving speed. you find yourself posted atop his tank of a body, both tatted hands now snaking their way under your tee. chilled fingertips brush your soft breasts as your head lulls back, your own fingertips resting on his warm chest.

"just a taste bae?" he pleads, with the most devilish grin you've seen from him since yesterday, large hands now urging you down toward his chest. "absolutely not." you chuckle against his peck with warm cheeks, knowing he's kinda fronting. he's never been a late man at all, always precisely on time or early. you knew he wouldn't jeopardize a obligation, even with his truly efficient abilities.

"fine, you're not off the hook though lil girl." one hand caressing the expanse of your back, the other taking gentle fistfuls of your ass. "that's fine, hold me to it - you still have to go though big daddy." you emphasize the nickname, his rumbling laughter shaking the both of you.

you lift your head up to him, his baby blues shining in the morning rays. he gazes at you with a boyish smile, his love shining through every part of his body. never afraid to revel in his true feelings for you. he actually prefers to openly adore you - it gives him this warm feeling in his body, almost like seeing you love him is lighting him on fire or something.

"im surprising you today, okay?" he blurts out, tracing your facial features like the work of art you are. "oh?" puzzled look on your face as you kiss whatever you can catch of his hand. "yup" he quips, popping the p. your world flipped once again as he plops you next to him, unfortunately leaving you lonely to shower.

"when thoughhhhh?" you whine from the bed, not ready to leave the only warm embrace you have left at the moment. "when i come back from base. and be ready for real, because i'm taking you straight there." he yells back, stripping and starting the water.

"tch," you suck your teeth, rolling your eyes "i can be on time too, sexy muh-fucker." turning your head towards the large windows of your condo, your eyes threatening to close again.

you peek one eye open before falling fully asleep, and snatch your phone off the nightstand. setting an alarm for an hour and a half from now, knowing he'll be done in about two-ish hours, you toss it somewhere into the sea of the california king and knock out.

you jolt directly up from the bed, as your alarm blares throughout the room, startling you awake. rubbing your eyes while fishing for your phone somewhere in the sheets, but somehow feeling 10x more rested than your first wake up - which truly felt like forever ago.

one glance at your phone, kicks you into lock-in mode. "FUCK", your alarm seems to have been going off for a good twenty minutes, and you have the lesser part of 15 to be "ready for real" before rafe gets back. you cannot - under any circumstance - let him catch you lacking because he'll never let that shit go.

you skip out of bed and directly into the shower, planning a casual but cute outfit as you wash and freshen up. you go minimal with hair and makeup, feeling a little scared because you honestly think the clock is speeding up just to spite you.

in his beautifully on-time fashion, you hear rafe busting through the front door as soon as your pants are up over your butt. "bae?" his strong voice cutting through the get-ready playlist you selfishly took two full minutes to put on. "hey boo, i'm ready" you breathe, rounding the corner to meet him. his smile when he sees you never disappoints, flashing all 32, subtle dimples popping just the way you love, immediately heating you up. you go in for a hug, breathing him in through his slightly damp shirt (even better), he's a sweat-er so you know its warm out.

"you ready pretty?" he kisses your head, grin still plastered on his gorgeous face, hands planted firmly on your booty. a light squeeze to your lower cheeks earns him your "sexy grin", a dramatic eye roll, and a love slap to the chest. you lead him out the front door and to the passenger side of his big ol truck, which he opens for you and lifts you into by the waist.

the car ride to his "surprise" is filled with mindless chatter, spotify, and planning your next meal which is always a serious topic of conversation for you two. but you quickly notice he's not taking a route you recognize, "okay... do i already know what this is or is it a real surprise?" you ask, eyebrow cocked. he lets a loud chuckle escape, hand gripping your thigh across the console, thumb rubbing ever so slightly.

"yes, its a real surprise bae. you've never been here before" your uncocked eyebrow raises to meet the other, "shiiiiittt," you think for a second, then quietly question "am i gonna have to think, learn or sweat for this? or all of the above??" you sigh, realizing he might have you're ass doing some outdoor shit, which would probably present some complications with the outfit.

he laughs so hard he has to grip your thigh for purchase, "bae. what if i told you yes?" he snickers some more. "id tell you to turn this muh-fuckin car around. TUH" you fold your arms pointedly, just to show him you're deadass. at this point rafe's face is flushed from how much hes laughing, "nah bae, you just get to be your crash-out self. and be all up on me..." he manages to squeeze out in between laughs. and now you're confused, because, although you love those two things individually, you have no idea how they could possibly be combined. "now how the hell you finna combine those..." you mutter, sparing him a glance. "you gotta wait and see bae." with a full belly chuckle once again, his paw of a hand moves to cup your pussy through your pants and rub lightly like its affectionate or something. you look at him, unamused, but he simply flashes you a killer smirk with a squeeze to the coochie.

so you wait patiently, intrigued and a little nervous at what he has planned. when you arrive at what seems to be some sort of warehouse, he finally removes his hand from your pussy with a mean smack, "aye boy!" you whip your head over to him with a sharp look, now on edge from all the groping he's been doing for the remainder of the ride. but he's already out the damn truck, stalking around the front to open your door and help you out, by the waist, straight to the ground. you wouldn't sweat one droplet if it was up to him - except when y'all fuckin of course.

upon entering the mysterious warehouse, you immediately clock this is a gun range date. considering rafe has been yapping nonstop about teaching you how to protect yourself, how to use a gun just in case, and his plans to take you to the range routinely, you're actually not surprised at all.

hes grinning at you as you wait in the front desk line, his arm around your waist, rubbing absentmindedly. "so?? how surprised are you bae?" earning him yet another suck of the teeth, "how surprised you think i am? this is all you talk about rafe" you play with his fingers on your hip, as you both move up in line. "i knowwww bae, are you excited tho?", he grins more, gently pulling your head back and kissing your lips, "actually? i think i am a little excited lowkey... i don't really know what to expect, but... you got me right?". you breathe out, moving up to the desk, and you swear you can see him vibrating with happiness in your peripheral. "duh, of course i got you bae" he says from behind you, landing a fervent smack to your booty as he moves up after you.

the man at the desk literally daps up rafe and they starting chatting, his arm anchored to your waist without so much as a flinch. the man immediately starts grabbing various items, seemingly without a thought, and you start to realize... you're kinda like a celebrity by association in the military world? you chuckle at the fact that hundreds of thousands of men and boys around the world literally admire, look up to, and actually talk about your boyfriend - like out loud and in the media too. not that you don't do all of those things practically everyday - but to you, he's really just... your baby, rafe.

"listen son, they not payin' yo ass enough out there. you doin' big things, and not just what you doin' for this country. I mean, you really a weapon, boy." rafe quirks half his smile up, giving the man a nod.

"thank you sir, i just do my best. but i appreciate that, i really do. its my honor." rafe picks up the basket of goods, with another nod to the man. "anytime son. you a hero, nothin' less. and this must be the missus - what she doin' with no ring son?? aye you better act right, you a lucky man." the man chuckles, clasping both hands over your one hand and gently shaking. "its a pleasure ma'am." you laugh politely at his jokes, leaning into rafe on instinct, "its very nice to meet you sir". he pushes himself away from the counter with a nod and a wave, shouting "y'all be safe in there." you and rafe wave back awkwardly, him pulling you along by the waist.

"alright, am i trippin', or was he too fuckin' chatty" rafe laughs, once yall are through the door to the shooting lanes. "yeah, that was a lot..." you giggle, following rafe to what you assume is yall's lane, hands interlocked. you're hit with pungent smell of hot rubber, metal, and smoke but you kinda get used to it by the time y'all settle in.

rafe is professionally trained in this stuff, so you just listen extra careful - proving harder than you thought with the thundering pop of gunshots going off every so often. yall make silly small talk while he sets you both up with protective glasses and ear protection, complete with a built in mic for conversation. attaching the target to the rail and sending it out, he moves you into the lane with his body directly behind you. you can already feel the heat from his furnace of a body and you can tell this is gonna be a problem.

"okay," he says, leaning into your ear, hands on the front of your hips, pressing you back even further into his front. "whats the first thing you do?" your head is juuuuuuuuust clear enough to be reminded every so often that you're handling a dangerous weapon, but hes towing the damn line. "rafe, if you gon' be pressure the whole time just tell me what to do. i know you know i can't think right now..." you sigh, hearing him snicker through the headset, "okayyy, damn."

he picks up the gun and places all of your fingers precisely where they need to be, slowly explaining why they're placed there and the use of every part. but your ass is not really listening at all, because his cologne literally has you in a fucking fog. that or the way he readjusts every so often and presses his hips flush up against yours whenever he changes topics. or the way his large, thick, art covered hands caress your fingers and guide guide them where he wants them, exactly when he wants. or the way you can feel his hot breath fanning over your neck and sometimes even a brush of his soft, full lips when he leans in to show you something specific.

by the time he raises your hands up to point at the target, you bout ready to leave. his deep voice is saying something about "easing on the trigger" so you very slowly start pulling, and before you know it, a loud bang sounds out, and theres a hole a few inches below the center of the target. that startles you from your fog a little bit, because you're still gagged that you just shot a gun, and hit the target at all. but he moved the gun to the table again, so hes back to feeling on your hips, one hand traveling down to cup you and the other snaking up to your nipple poking through your shirt. "im so proud of you bae." he breathes, smirk deeeeep in his voice, with a kiss to the back of your neck.

you can very clearly feel how rock-fucking-hard he is and you think... its a little insane that he's so turned on by this. you realize the wetness in your panties is starting becoming an issue so you slap his hands away before he can make his way underneath any clothes, "rafe," you grit through your teeth, "quit. right now. we are soo close to other people. i'm taking two more shots and then we're out, okay". his hands have stopped wandering, his arms now wrapped around your waist. you can feel his smirk against the back of your neck, and he kisses there lightly, picking up the gun, "yes ma'am".

you bit your tongue through those last couple shots, thighs rubbing together, eventually becoming a little restless in the absence of his groping.

you literally wanted to pull his dick out - you couldn't take it. immediately after your last shot, you snatched his keys and ran out of the place, head down, too ashamed too ashamed to look anyone in the face let alone the chatty man.

you could finally breathe in the quiet safety of his truck, the 5% tint on all windows giving you the privacy you needed. you're still hot as fuck though. the thought of shedding some layers crosses your mind, but you brush it off, thinking rafe would probably open the door any second. but as more and more time passes, baking in the heat combined with flashbacks from the range, you start to get uncomfortably hot. you could rip his clothes off in this state, and a part of you wishes you could get back at him somehow.... but before you can make up your mind the sound of the drivers side door opening startles you, your head whipping towards him.

he looks like a fucking wet dream, sweating from the heat, blue eyes sparkling, sun shining down on him making his tan, tatted skin glisten... muscles bulging, and bulge straining... just how you like it. his shirt hiked up revealing a happy trail peekaboo is just the cherry on top. you can't stand it. "rafe. did they hold you hostage? the fuck took you so long?" you blurt, sounding a little frazzled. he climbs into the truck, starting it "yes, actually. chatty unc did hold me hostage. chill bae, the fuck happened in here..." he chuckles, side eying you and wrapping his whole hand around your thigh.

you freeze - his hand on your leg feels like a hot iron, even though the air conditioning has been blasting for at least a two minutes. you're jolted back to his antics in there, feeling the imprint of his throbbing dick against your ass, his hands everywhere you needed them all at once, his lips on your neck leaving a sickly trail of heat in their wake.

"oh HELL nah-" your hands fly to your shirt, as you struggle to strip your clothes against the wet friction of your skin, "its too fuckin hot bruh- i don't know what the fuck-" you almost rip your pants in two trying to get them down your legs "yo ass think-" more struggling, you're audibly out of breath at this point "this. shit. is." you lull your head back against the seat once you're only clad in your skims lace bralette and panty.

"you okay baby?" you catch his eyes locked on you, signature smirk struggling to be hidden. "what you think rafe?" you say, slowly turning to him. now that you're comfortable, your head seems perfectly cleared... of everything but fucking him stupid.

"i think.. we need to get you home crazy" he lets out a cackle, gripping the gearshift, ready to get on the road. "oh! you thought that was cute or something?" you laugh, hand gripped around his, stopping his movement. "that little stunt you pulled back there?" he's unusually quiet, but still smirking, so you can tell he knows what you want - in all honesty he can smell it. you just fell right into his trap. all day, he's been replaying the promise you made him this morning before he left.

"fine, you're not off the hook tho lil girl." one hand caressing the expanse of your back, the other taking gentle fistfuls of your ass. "thats fine, hold me to it - you still need to go tho big daddy."

he was going to make sure you kept that promise whether you knew it or not. he definitely enjoyed watching you squirm in front of him the whole time, his dick certainly leaking all over his boxers by now. he would've pulled his dick out right there in the lane if you'd wanted him to, but it looks like you enjoy him teasing you to the point of no return.

"you gon give me sum' for all that torture rafe." you whisper, eyes locked on his lips, hand on his moving to his straining cock. you grip it, eyes flashing up to his, which are already locked on yours. he slowly puts the truck back in park, "get in the back." its quick but you can hear the same strain in his voice.

"no. you-"

"get. in the back." his eyes close, hand still locked on the gearshift, so you decide you should get to climbing. by the time you're settled in the seat behind yours he's opening the backseat door and dragging you by your ankles to lay flat. he climbs in over you, slamming the door behind him. immediately he's on you, your lips dancing together, the fervency bringing back that excruciating heat you felt earlier. the backseat of his truck is actually pretty big, but due to his large stature, its tight quarters right now. you can feel every hard ridge of him pressed against you, his lips searing a wet trail right up your neck to the underside of your jaw. and the smell of his truck's leather mixed with his cologne drags you into the fog all over again.

the contrast of you being basically naked and him being completely clothed doesn't feel right at all. so as he pulls his shirt off, your hands find the corded muscles of his back, traveling down to slip under the lip of his pants. "ohh-, you- got some fuckin nerve rafe- " you manage breathlessly between kisses, as he rubs on your pussy through the thin material. he moves swiftly towards your tits sitting plump and pretty in the equally thin material. his eyes are locked on yours as he sucks on a nipple through the bralette, "nah" he moves to the other nipple, sucking harder, his lashes falling against his face blissfully. "i just know you bae" he punctuates with a firm nip on your bud and you feel a gush of slick wet your panties.

with locked eyes, he smirks, moving your panties to the side and slipping a finger in, thumbing your clit with a skillfull touch. your lips mingle with each others, rafe's groans echoing throughout the tight space as you work his zipper down and pull him out. slow strokes have his eyes closed and his teeth pulling down your bra for a better taste of your breasts.

he glances down to see your cunt creaming on his fingers, the soft moans spilling from your lips sound like he's being ushered into heaven, "shit... she been calling to me alllll," with a few flicks of his thumb against your clit, you're shouting, "fuckin' day". smiling like he's never been happier, he floats back to your mouth, tongue snaking in with yours, teeth nipping your lips. "fuck me rafe" you breathe, still stroking him, his dick now lathered in his own precum, tip gliding slowly against your slit. he pushes the tip in carefully, and you can't help but throw your head back, finally feeling the slightest bit of relief. "say please, baby.", he snickers, laving a scorching stripe up your neck, practically making out with it. "RAFE SHUT YO A-" before you can pop him for playing with you he pushes in to the hilt, "ohhh shh- it" you grit out, your body seizing for a second.

he starts with short, strong, pumps. grinding against you with the full strength of his hips. you can see the reflection of his back muscles rippling and his juicy butt clenching in the window. you pull him into you to lick the sweat off his neck, triggering a deep groan you feel on your tongue, "fuuuck, i love you baby." he's pulling back more to push into you a little rougher, the force of his thrust creating an uncomfortable friction between the seat and your skin. but his soft lips suckling your breast and his thumb now glued to your clit, erase any and all uncomfort whatsoever. you moan out, like sex in his ears "UUHH- ohhhhh, i love you bae- uhhh right thereee-" thats all you can manage, with your hand on his head, keeping his mouth pressed to your tits.

he glances up at you... a lush vision, like something out of his very own dreams - literally. he sits up, ready to give you everything you didn't even know you needed. he has one hand caging your waist in, and another on your hip as he lets out a breathy groan, watching with intent as your pretty pussy creams a pearlescent ring around the base of him, mixing with his pubes. he can feel your juices dripping down his balls as he moves the hand by your waist, up to the door behind you head.

the truck has to be rocking, with how serious rafe is at the moment. your eyes just about roll back as he starts jackhammering into you, his thick mushroom tip hitting your spot perfectly. his hips working, thrusting forcefully and grinding against you, all in one fluid movement. the feel of his coarse pubes on your clit, his chain swinging to and fro over your face, his deep grunts ringing in your ears - just when you though that was to much, his thrusts get even rougher, plunging into you so harsh, the with of him stretching you so dreamily. "oh shit- yeahh.." he breathes out, leaning down to lick the sparkling perspiration off your skin, his tongue traveling from sucking hickeys on your neck down to your breast yet again, blue eyes fluttering shut.

"rafe- fuuuckkk- im gonna-" he snaps up, immediately getting a second wind hearing your exclamation, thumb working quick circles on your clit. "yeah?" he exhales, "thats fuck?" he says taunting you while angling his hips to hit it right where you need it. he stuffs his hoodie under your butt to get a better position, and the pressure from this angle takes over your body, his hands caressing you, working your clit, it all sends you over the edge. through the buzzing of your senses you hear the splat splat of your pussy - "FUCK- bae i'm cuming-" and his warm seed flooding you. he slows but doesn't falter, his hips still hitting you like a tank. the only sounds in the truck being the squelch of your combined cum and the sultry flow of your combined moans.

"rafe-" he sits down on the seat and swoops you up off of it, moving you to rest your back against the center console in front of him, your dripping cunt resting in his lap. he lightly kisses your inner thigh, sending you a sexy wink, that forces a light chuckle out of you, and he dives in without another word. his tongue slurping you up like the best treat he's ever had, calculated circles going on your now overstimulated clit. your hand travels to his buzzed head as he sucks each lip into his mouth, slowly moving to suckle around you're clit. his face is shining with the both of your cum smeared all over it, and you don't think he ever get finer.

you can't hold your tongue any longer when his own travels down to your hole, licking you inside and out. fucking you with the scorching muscle, slurping up the mix of you both thats dripping out of you like honey. "mmmmm- shi-" he groans, the taste of his cum mixing with yours makes him lightheaded. you feel him start to suck on your throbbing clit once again, showering her in passionate kisses and the most earth-shattering ministrations, fingers still pumping in and out of you below. you stretch your arms back over your head, as he somehow sticks another finger in your ass. you start to ride his face, your hips fully in his hands, as he manages to pump that finger - you're so close you can taste it.

your vision spots as he suckles extra hard on your aching bud, his wanton groaning vibrating through your pussy. your body locks up and rafe's mouth stays glued to your pussy, releasing it with a pop!, then going back in and making sure he doesn't miss a drop of your sweet juice. the whole truck smells like sex and sweat as you catch your breath, reveling in the tenderness of his touch, him lips peppering sweet kisses over your thighs and stomach, while cleaning you both up with a towel he keeps in the back.

he dresses you, then dresses himself, while you both share sweet pecks every now and again, basking in the after glow. "i guess you were gonna have to sweat no matter where i took you, huh." he smirks, letting his hands wander over your hips and ass, as you chill in his lap.

"boy shut up, this was your little plan all along, i know you too...." you laugh, eyes rolling sassily. "damn right it was" he shoots you a devilish look before locking your lips, tongues entangled so deeply you almost take each others clothes off again. he hops out the truck with a pop to your booty, as you climb back up to the passenger seat feeling delightfully sated.

"bae, can we get chipotle before we go home?" he calls from outside the truck before climbing in, your stomach rumbling before he even said it. you turn to him with a blissful look, placing your hand on his cheek, "damn, you know my heart... drive". he kisses your hand as he pulls out of the parking lot. "i wonder if that chatty guy saw me run out the door like a lunatic..." you think out loud, car playlist bumping in the background. you play with his fingers that were just inside you churning up your cum and his, and smile deviously. rafe chuckles "HA! i wonder if he knew what we were doin' parked outside for so long..."

"grandbabies fa' sho' on the way..." the chatty man says, watching rafe's black truck finally drive away.

©  alanisstonedd 2025 — do not steal, plagiarise, or modify my content.

hope y'all liked this! likes and reblogs and all the rest much appreciated!!!

xoxo, lana 💋💋💋

[sheepispink]

Is this a Date? ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི lt ghost x baker!reader, part of the Sweet as Sugar Series

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Summary: after your past hesitance, Simon asks you out on more of a silly date than a romantic one. Nonetheless, he begins to realise just how much you two really feel for eachother

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི a/n: fair warning that all the arcade games in this are based of the ones i go to, which are british obvs, so accurate? yes. particularly fun? probably not. Also i said chips but i know some of yall will call it fries. chips is the british word thanks for coming to my ted talk <3

PREV NEXT

———

Finally, Simon would be taking you out properly, just like he’d been trying to hype himself up to do for nearly three weeks. He gave you some time since you confessed your anxious thoughts to him, but you’re already feeling a lot better, practically radiating like the sun.

”Are you busy this week?” He considered texting you the question, but he was sitting in the cafe with you again and he just couldn’t wait any longer, half tempted to drag you out with him today.

You’re sitting opposite him in the empty shop, the closed sign bumping against the door. “Hmm.. don’t think so. My parents are taking over to give me a break.” He watches you eye the biscuit tin you leave out for him no matter how many times he insists that he doesn't always eat them, and passes you a bourbon. Your lips quirk up, a soft grin as you take a large bite into the chocolate biscuit, crumbs on your lips.

”A break huh? Well, if you haven't planned anything yet then why don't we go out?” You perk up instantly at that, a light clang of the teaspoon you just dropped on the table echoing out as the possibilities run through your head. Sure, you went to the farm and the winter festival with him, but actually going out? ..Is this a date?

“Where would we go?”

Before you know it, it’s Thursday and he’s wrapped you up in his jacket, the one he knows you love. Since you seemed to have such a great time at the festival, he figures he’d play it safe this time and take you to everyone’s favourite destination— the arcade. His decision is right, of course, confirmed by your eyes brightening as you step out of his car and he has to convince you to let him lock the car first before you start dragging him inside.

“Oooh! Let’s do the shooting!” You exclaim, pulling him along to the little booth and he picks up the fake gun, eyeing it with slight distaste. It’s not close to a real gun in the slightest, but he pushes that thought away as you grab the gun and pull a playful pose, pretending to look through the scope. “Alright, alright.” He places the coins into the slots, watching as the zombies start to approach.

Turning his brain off becomes increasingly easier with you, especially as you aren't afraid to express yourself or act the slightest bit silly, yelling at him to get the ones approaching you on the right. “Simon! I’m gonna die!” You squeal, still pretending your very best to act like a proper fighter as you dramatically move the gun around to aim at all the approaching enemies. “Got your back, love.” He mutters, already forgetting that these games are practically light work compared to anything he’s ever done before, his eyes locked onto the screen as he destroys anything coming your way. By the end of it, you’ve got your hands in the air as you cheer and even he’s grinning wide as possible.

What he didnt expect for you to call out to a random stranger, the woman’s head turning to your voice. “Excuse me, can you take a picture of us?” He has no time to argue, you’re already pulling the fake gun up to your face like some kind of secret agent all while he can hold it across his chest like he does on missions. The woman smiles and returns your phone, only for you to drag him away before he can say anything else.

The pair of you continue through the arcade, him even laughing when you fail to keep up with the dance game you insisted you were brilliant at. It’s not your fault he sneakily picked the hard mode to watch you scramble to get all the notes, but he won't admit that. Next, you drag him over to the air hockey table, a mischievous look on your face as you begin to rack up points like they’re nothing (only because you screamed “Ow!” and he immediately dropped his pusher). “That’s cheating.” You watch his eyes narrow and his stern voice comes through, and you immediately panic like a deer in headlights, eyes so wide you don't notice him pushing the puck straight into your goal. “Hey!”

This time he pulls you along, leading you to a new side of the arcade since it recently got refurbished and towards a booth that has a target behind the barrier. Curious, you raise an eyebrow before looking at the sign above. “Try beating me now.” Damnit, you know he’s smirking behind that mask and you’d be damned because watching him hurl every axe to the centre of that target had to be the definition of attractive. Unlike you, where the axe bounced off the target altogether whilst he tried his best not to stifle his laugh. It really was quite comical, the way you huffed under your breath as it continued to miss, only grazing the edge before bouncing off again. “I-it’s not funny!” He’s had to turn away from how hard he’s laughing right now, and you’re half tempted to give him a fake punch for that though you know he’d only just laugh harder. “Sorry, i’m sorry, i’ll teach you.”

He steps behind you, his hands curving over yours to help fix your lousy form into one that will definitely produce some better results. Well, at least it sticks this time.. on the edge of the target that is. “Simon!” You exclaim as he bursts out laughing again, thankful for his mask as his face is practically burning hot now. “Okay, okay—“ He adjusts you again, helping you tilt your arm back enough and aim it at the centre. Slowly stepping back, he signalls you to throw it. Your brows furrow as you concentrate, arm going a little further back before you throw it forward and it finally hits directly on the bullseye. “I did it! Look—“ You cheer, instantly spinning around to throw your arms tight around his middle as if it was something you’ve done a million times before, like it was something you’d have done for years. The touch immediately fries his harshly trained nerves, the muscles in his stomach tensing as he looks down at the sight of you squeezing him as hard as you possibly can— he can't say his stomach did not flip at least a little. You seem to notice, eyes quickly glancing up at him. Though, before you can stammer out an apology, he scoffs and pinches your cheeks. “Took you long enough.”

———

Exhausted from your escapades, he takes you to a diner. Well it’s barely anything like actual American diners but they make good burgers, so who can complain? You order your usual, and when Simon sees you eye the milkshake options for too long you end up with a tall glass of it in front of you. Meanwhile, he decides to go for something new for once, figuring the description was exaggerating, before he ends up with a giant hunk of a burger before him. “Oh.” The sight has you giggling far too much.

“Those two idiots knocked out right on me. You’d think they’re kids coming back from playcare the way they fall asleep anywhere.” He huffs, describing to you the less gruesome details of his recent deployment.

“Hmm.. Soap is the one with the mohawk right? And Gaz… the one who wears a cap all the time?” You ask, snickering from his story and he nods along, confirming your questions.

“Soap looks lively— well by what I've seen anyway. You said Gaz got his name for being quiet huh? I bet he’s one of those types who randomly have the best quips?”

Simon smiles behind the mask, intrigued by your new captivation about his teammates. Sure, he’s used to talking with you about whatever, just as he is with others. But he never really talked about himself much, at least not more than a few opinions on what he liked— he was far more interested in whatever you’d say. He just never considered you’d be so interested in what he’d say too. You’ve asked before, and he never paid much attention, but now you’re even remembering things from past conversations and expressing intrigue in his life. He might need to step outside to breathe properly again.

”Yeah, he’s definitely that type. Johnny barely wins an argument with him around; I think Cap’ even has a hard time defending himself.” You giggle again, stealing some of the ketchup from his plate with a swipe of your chip. “Do you see them all the time?”

“Yeah. Practically have our rooms right beside each other. We watch the football games in the common room.” He rolls his eyes when you coo at him, saying “aww” and smiling wide at him like he’s a kid who made his first friend or something. You really are an exception huh? He can’t even get all that mad at you when you look at him with curiosity swirling in your eyes.

“Why don't you come down with them sometime? You can bring them to the bakery.” You hum, licking the ketchup off your lip as you chomp down on your last bite of the burger. For some reason, he thought you were joking— would you really entertain a bunch of random men just for the sake of them being his friends? It didn't make sense; you didn't even know them, nor had you met more than one either. ”Pretty sure Johnny would eat all your pastries, love. It’s not worth it.”

“Well, I guess I'll just have to make extra that day then. I’m serious, y’know? Bring them around at your usual time, I'll have tea and the pastries ready.” Now that was unexpected; you were actually willing to give up some of your time to welcome his teammates, ones that he’s never even introduced you to before. Wait— did you think he was rude for not introducing you before?

”I did plan to introduce you at some point— they’re just… busy.” Wow, he actually fumbled his words for once, at this rate his chest will falter as well with the rate you keep surprising him with your genuineness. “Huh? I know, I just thought it’d be nice for them to relax a bit, have something sweet.” You hum, sipping your milkshake he bought for you, before passing the glass over to him and for some reason he doesn't hesitate, slipping your straw beneath his mask as he takes a sip himself.

He ignores the taste of your lipgloss that lingers.

—————

He drives you home soon after, walking you all the way up to your apartment door. You start slipping off your shoes, the time already growing late since you had only gotten to the arcade at five o'clock. He stands awkwardly in the doorway, knowing he should probably say his goodbyes and leave now— because he’s not yours, and you're not his.

Yet.

Your head turns, a brow raised at him curiously. “Won't you come in?” His words clog in his throat, wondering if he should accept the offer. Surely you’d be heading to sleep soon enough anyways, wouldn’t it only be an inconvenience to keep you up any longer? He’s conflicted, wanting to leave you be but ever since the last time he was here, he’s thought about your home more than he’s yearned for a second of rest, which is very often.

“It’ll be late if you drive all the way back to base now. You can just crash on my couch again.” Your hand finds his sleeve, pulling him inside before he can utter a sound against you, and closing the door behind him. “Thanks for today by the way. ..Do you wanna get brunch tomorrow too?”

He thought dating was meant to be taken slow, something that’d develop over weeks and dates were planned apart. Well, that’s how everyone said it worked. Now here you were, not even parting for him and asking for more of his time. Trying to hide the swelling of his pupils is impossible and he has to bend down to undo the laces on his shoes just to try. “Is that even a question? Of course.”

He stands once more, but you’re looking at him with lovestruck eyes, affection pouring out of every crevice as you grin and hug him again for the second time that day. “I knew you wouldn't say no. I’ll make us some tea after I get changed.” Your eyes crinkle again sparkling with something you don't even attempt to hide before you step on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek where the mask doesn't quite cover.

Oh, so that’s what that look was—cheekiness, huh? Especially when you run away after that, scurrying into the bathroom as you snicker to himself. He looks up into the mirror in the hallway, realising his eyes have been struck wide.

————

You wander into the kitchen to start brewing the kettle, dressed in your favourite pajamas already whilst he heads to the bathroom to freshen up. He stares into your mirror, lingers of black paint still clinging onto his lashes. Should he take off his mask? It’s not like you haven't seen him sipping from his drink before, or even that time he fell asleep on the couch without pulling it down again. His fingers linger on the fabric, hesitating as his heart churns with the need to drop everything right now for you. His brain screams at him to act rationally but his gut tells him to take it slow, else he scares you off altogether. He sighs, conflicted, before a flash of light appears in the corner of his eye. Your phone had been left behind on the windowsill, a notification lighting it up. He picks it up so he can hand it back to you, only for it to flash again, the lock screen the picture of the two of you posing with your fake guns, your hand doing bunny ears behind his head. His own sits in his other hand, the picture of you with his stupidly oversized burger held up to your mischievous face flashing to life.

Maybe not today. But he’d definitely get you back for the surprise kiss, stepping out of the bathroom to sneak up behind you as you grab the milk from the fridge.

————-

PREV NEXT

Taglist:

@hidden-treasures21 @bieberismysoulmate @gallantys @tessakate @galactict3a @krispymagazinepizza-blog @silas-aeiou @kupids-arrow @enfppuff @oydan @keytofu @vogueprincess

[witherby]

I think a really cool day idea for Conner and mouse would be like the circus scene from Teen Titans were Robin let Starfire try some cotton candy and it’s really cute 



I remember that scene!!! Robin's absolutely lovesick expression was so romantic to me, even back then.

I didn't replicate that one-for-one, but they're certainly at a carnival! I hope you like it!

The Littlest Wayne: Carnival

(features: established relationship, Conner Kent x gn!Reader, fluff, discussions of structures that aren't OSHA compliant, kissing)

Masterlist is Here!

"That doesn't look safe."

"None of these rides really are," you admit, queueing into the line to ride the Wave Swinger with your boyfriend. "Pop-up carnivals are designed in such a way that they can be thrown up and taken down within a day or two. You can't really afford to bolt anything down because it isn't going to be there in a week."

Conner looks at you with incredulity. He looks like he's trying not to pout, which is adorable. You barely refrain from kissing him.

"Then why are we lining up to get on one?"

"S'part of the vibe," you explain, lifting your hands for emphasis. One of them is interlaced with your boyfriend's, so his arm gets swung around, too. "You don't really go to these things to walk around and then leave again. You gotta ride a ride while wondering in the back of your mind if this is how it ends. You gotta spend way too much money playing a rigged game to win a prize that wasn't worth even a third of what you spent to earn it. You gotta eat a bunch of deep-fried foods that shouldn't be deep-fried and feel incredibly nauseated for the next two days about it. That's the real Carnival Experience™."

"This doesn't sound fun, M," Conner says. "I can take you on a flight and pretend to drop you a couple times. I can ask you for an absurd amount of money and not pay it back for like a week. I can cook you dinner and narrowly avoid giving you food poisoning. We don't have to be here."

"Trust me, it wouldn't be the same," you insist, moving up in the line. This swing ride is one of your favorites, next to The Whip, but you haven't seen one of those in a few years. "It's also the atmosphere. You're surrounded by fun, neon colors and happy strangers and screaming children — it's all part of the experience."

"Yeah..." Conner grimaces, gaze a little distant. "I could do without the screaming children."

"Oh, right," you frown, digging out a specialized pair of earbuds from your pocket and offering them to him. They help muffle out extra sensitive sounds for him, like breathing and footsteps and other people's heartbeats, so he can better control what noise he chooses to perceive. "Here."

Conner takes them, briefly letting go of your hand to put them in, then un-tenses his shoulders and offers you a thin smile.

"That's better," he admits, "but I still think getting on rides knowing they aren't bolted down properly is stupid."

"Welcome to the carnival," you grin. You both shuffle forward in the line, close enough now that you'll be able to get on next round. "You're gonna love this."

"I can fly, M. I don't think I'm gonna care."

Then it turns out he cares. He cares a lot. He actually cares so much. When you and Conner get strapped into your seats, he's white knuckling the chains keeping his chair suspended off the ground.

"You're joking. There's one little bike chain keeping me in this chair and there's a single hook on top holding me up. You're actually joking."

You start spinning and twisting around in your own chair, gleeful. "Isn't it great?"

"No??"

"Alrighty riders. Please refrain from bouncing, spinning, twisting, or yanking on the chains. When the ride is in motion do not grab onto other riders' chairs. Keep the strap secure across your waist while the ride is in motion, and do not attempt to remove it until it comes to a complete stop again. Enjoy."

Conner flinches when the chairs lift into the air. He watches the ground get pulled out from under him, shitty carnival music starting to come out of the speakers while the lights on the ride start flashing. If he weren't invulnerable, he'd be losing his mind right now. How are you able to enjoy such risky activities!? Are you insane!? Actually — you're the one civilian child to a family of crime fighting vigilantes. Of course you're insane.

He looks up to make another comment, but the words quickly die in his throat. Because you look stunning.

You look great all the time, of course. Conner loves to look at you, and you know that. But as the ride starts to spin and your chair starts swaying with the wind, you throw your head back and laugh. You spread your arms out to your sides and kick your feet, eyes closed and hair fanned out.

You're practically ethereal when you're having fun. Conner watches the colorful lights dance over your skin and feels himself falling even more in love with you than he already is. He never wants the ride to end, if it means he gets to see you like this forever.

Using the trick Clark taught him, he speeds himself up to slow the world down, giving himself more time to admire you. To you, it's just a couple minutes in the air, but to him it's hours of unbridled admiration. When you're finally lowered to the ground again, he's unlatched himself from his seat and come around to kiss you.

"Let's go find another ride," he mumbles against your lips. You smirk, victorious, and grab his hand. He's utterly helpless to do anything but trail after you.

"Knew you'd come around. It's the Carnival Experience, babe; it pulls everyone in! Never should've doubted me."

"Yeah..." He says, smiling like a lovesick idiot. It's definitely the rides and games and people making him feel this good, and not the echo of your happy heartbeat or the image of your carefree smile under the neon lights burned into his memory. "Shouldn't have doubted you."

[lsunstreakerl]

part ten of the maxiel corporate au! (do I need to change the name? things are getting complicated here. the day I write a clearly monogamist fic that's not the real sunny anymore)

heads up: both explicit content and violence in this one. the violence is somewhat mild, but it's still there.

it's the daniel and rico section, obviously, which is how this ended up being 3k. whoops. Max POV, Daniel POV.

Max double checks the list in his hand, waving behind him as he steps into the elevator. He's been doing good today- focused on his work, somewhat put his foot down with Daniel, and he's been exchanging messages with Rico during his brief breaks.

He leans against the wall as the elevator starts its ascent. He knows what he's actually going up here for- it'd be difficult not to.

He's trying not the think about last time, the way he'd been shoved down onto the desk, Daniel's hand pinning him. It'd be embarrassing to already be hard coming into the office, but he's rapidly headed that direction, hot under his shirt collar.

He's worrying at the paper in his hands, fingertips running across the folds and creases. He'd taken a picture of it, because he doesn't want to lose it or drop it anywhere.

There's the now-familiar pleasant chime of the elevator doors sliding open, and then Max is making his way down the hallway- a left, a left, and a right- to Daniel's office door. He knocks, rolling back onto his heels as he waits.

"Come in."

Max slides the door open, slipping inside. Daniel's staying late as well, and his curls are messy, like he's been running his hand through them. He looks about as tired as Max and the rest of the finance department feels.

And apparently also how they look, because Daniel raises an eyebrow at him and whistles, low and long.

"Damn, there a war going on downstairs? I didn't realize I'd be dragging you from the frontlines, babe."

Max makes a so-so motion with his hand, shrugging. He's too tired to feel flustered, not quite up for the normal cat and mouse game talking to Daniel always feels like.

"Might as well be, sir. I don't think anyone's a fan of Netco at the moment."

Daniel scowls, capping a pen with more force than necessary.

"Tell me about it, christ."

Max takes a few steps forward. There's an open space on the desk, and Daniel hasn't gestured for Max to come over, but-

Everyone is tired. Max doesn't mind sticking to routine.

The pleasantly surprised expression on Daniel's face when Max deftly steps around his knee and hops onto the desk is more satisfying than Max anticipated.

Daniel's shoulders relax, hands coming down to spread his fingers across Max's thighs.

"Taking initiative, Maxy?"

Max tilts his head to the side, leaning back on his hands.

"We have performance evaluations coming up, sir."

Daniel laughs- a real one, which Max is learning is different from the ones he'll give over the phone.

"Glowing marks for you babe, I've only heard good things."

He reaches up, tapping lightly at Max's jaw.

"Real pretty face too."

Max isn't sure if it's the sleep deprivation, the pleasant feeling he's had all day, the pent up horniness, or a combination of the three- but he's feeling bold, twisting his head to capture two of Daniel's fingers in his mouth, running his tongue over them.

Daniel makes a surprised noise, pressing them against the inside of Max's cheek.

"Yeah?"

Max hums, spreading his thighs on the desk. He wants.

Daniel presses down on his tongue before withdrawing his fingers, pushing his thumb into Max's bottom lip.

Max makes a soft noise, waiting for an instruction, but Daniel seems mildly captivated. He's not doing anything.

If Daniel wants Max pent up and horny all the time, he's going to have to deal with the consequences. Max slides off the desk, folding down onto his knees between Daniel's legs, looking up at him.

Daniel's eyes are wide and entranced, hand gently falling into Max's hair.

"Maxy, what's gotten into you?"

Max rests his cheek on Daniel's thigh, his own hands held neatly in his lap. He's not sure how to answer- just knows he feels more settled in his own skin about everything, feels less like he's in free fall than he did before.

The knowledge that he'll be calling Rico after helps. Even if he does feel weird when he's done with Daniel- and he usually does- Rico will make it better.

Max doesn't really want to answer though. He knows what he's up here for, and so does Daniel, even if the energy is different this time.

Daniel laughs softly, fingers absentmindedly carding through Max's hair.

"Okay babe, we can do that. But I've got to actually get some things handled, and you really do need to go back to work after- so how about we try something different, yeah?"

Max blinks, waiting.

"I need that list, sweetheart."

Oh, right.

Max carefully pulls it out of his pocket, handing it up to Daniel. There's a moment where Daniel's fingers brush over the back of Max's hand, heat shooting through him.

"Thank you."

His other hand pulls Max's head up a bit, forcing their eyes to meet.

"Can you be good if I give you something to keep your mouth occupied?"

Max is confused for a moment before realizing, cheeks flushing as he nods. Daniel pats the top of his head.

"Good."

He rolls forward, and Max has to scoot further underneath the desk to accommodate. It's darker, noise muffled through the thick wood- his head is spinning.

Daniel's fingers nimbly unclasp his belt, and then he's pulling his cock out, letting Max wrap his fingers around the base.

Max gives a few experimental licks at the tip, but Daniel's hand tightens in his hair, tugging.

"I said be good, babe."

Max makes a soft noise, sinks a few inches down. Daniel's fingers tighten again before relaxing, smoothing gently over his hair in a way that almost feels apologetic.

Max can feel his shoulders sinking down, muscles relaxing as he takes Daniel further down his throat. His mind is starting to float away from him, blurring at the edges of his consciousness in a way that Max is learning he really likes.

Daniel's hand is heavy on his head, and Max can faintly hear him speaking above him, but it's not at him, so he doesn't think too hard about it.

At some point- Max isn't sure how long it's been- he can feel drool starting to pool at the bottom of his mouth, and he doesn't even think before he swallows.

Daniel's voice hitches above him, fingers squeezing. Max winces, because he hadn't really meant to do that.

He does his best to behave after that, letting Daniel's voice wash over him from above, eyes drifting closed. It's not quite like sleeping- but it's relaxing.

He doesn't even realize that Daniel has stopped talking, lazily blinking his eyes open when Daniel's thumb brushes across his hairline.

"Maxy, how you doing down there?"

Max makes a soft hum. Daniel's half-hard, and Max is only duly aware of his own arousal.

He leans his face into Daniel's hand. It's surprisingly nice, being like this with him. So far most of Max's time with Daniel has been overwhelming, a blur of embarrassment and pleasure, but this is different- he feels like putty, resting between Daniel's legs, holding his cock in his mouth.

It's slowed his brain down, eased the tension out of his shoulders and spine.

Daniel's fingers slide back into his hair, and then he's pulling back, his other hand reaching down to support Max's head.

"C'mere babe."

Max goes easily, blinking against the bright light as he shuffles out from the desk. His legs are asleep, buckling under him when he tries to stand.

Daniel's quick- gets his hands around Max's waist, bringing him back up and into the air, settling him on the desk again.

Max feels boneless, eyes hazily watching Daniel's. His face softens, one hand coming back to Max's thigh.

"Yeah, I think that's enough for today."

Max isn't sure how long he sits there- he feels like he's been out in space, and he's trying to come back down to Earth. Daniel keeps one hand curled around his hip, but he's rolled closer to the desk, still navigating around on his monitor.

Max finally starts to shift, rolling his ankles carefully as feeling comes back to them. Daniel's eyes flick up to his from where he's been intently reading an email, the edge of his pen caught between his teeth.

Daniel grins, squeezing his hip.

"Feeling good?"

Max thinks about it for a moment- he is. He really is- more than he thought was possible, considering they didn't really do anything.

"Yes sir."

Daniel's smile is softer than Max is used to, not quite as sharp as it's been before.

"Catering is just about here, if you're ready to head back downstairs."

Max feels his eyebrows furrow.

"But sir, you didn't-"

Daniel cuts him off with a soft squeeze.

"It was what I needed, babe. Good job."

The praise flickers at the pit of Max's stomach, turns into something warm and gooey inside of him. He wants more of it.

Daniel's hands still hover by his waist as Max slips off the desk, but his legs are more stable now, supporting his weight.

"Thank you, sir."

Daniel tilts his head, looking like there's something else he wants to say- but he just shakes it softly.

"I appreciate you bringing the list up."

Max nods, and then he's leaving Daniel's office. He doesn't go back down to the fourth floor- gets out at the 5th instead, where everyone has gone home for the night.

He steps into one of the employee bathrooms, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Max?"

"Hi, Rico."

There's a low noise from Rico on the other end of the line, and then the background chatter on his end fades away as Max hears a door shut.

"You sound good."

Max feels good- better than he ever has after Daniel before. He hums, eyes drifting shut as he pins the phone between his ear and his shoulder.

"It was gentle today. He didn't actually fuck me though, which was weird."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I just kind of stayed under the desk for a little bit. I feel like I took a power nap, honestly."

"That's good. Sounds like he took care of you for once. You feeling good too?"

Max nods before he remembers Rico can't see that.

"Yes, I'm very relaxed. But it's nice, being able to talk to you."

Rico makes a soft approving noise, voice dropping lower.

"Glad to hear it. You did such a good job for us both, being good for Daniel like that. I'm proud of you."

Max leans his head back against the wall, letting the praise smolder low in his gut, seeping warmth into him. First Daniel, now Rico- Max is going to develop an ego if they keep this up.

"He's catered us dinner for the department, since we're all having to stay late tonight."

"Yeah, that's nice of him. I have a match tonight, so I won't be home, but you're more than welcome to stay at my place, okay?"

"Oh- thank you. I might do that, it depends on how the rest of the night goes."

"Always available, Max. I'm never going to be upset if I come home and you're there."

Max hums. He needs to go back downstairs- his brain is starting to kick back up, running smoother than it had before. There's a couple reports he wants to go over again.

"It'll just be a surprise then. Have a good match, Rico. Take 'em for all their worth."

"Hell yeah."

------

It's dark out when Daniel finally logs out, scrubbing his hands down his face. He's not worried-

He's a little worried.

The official VIP invitation to a local match had caught him by surprise until he saw who it was from, and now he's moderately concerned for his life.

Or his teeth, at the very least. It's inspired him to get an appointment set up with his dentist, but if he loses a few he's not going to be happy.

He shakes out his hands, standing from the desk. It'd been a surprising change of pace with Max earlier- Daniel really had intended to be less... tender, about the whole thing. It's a strictly sex based arrangement, so it's entirely inconvenient that he's suddenly started noticing the freckle on Max's lip, or his stupid little slack emoticons, or the way he'd looked so trustingly up at Daniel from under the desk.

Max isn't interested in anything from Daniel beyond that, and Daniel shouldn't be interested in anything from Max. He has a feeling that Rico is about to beat that message into his skull.

Literally.

------

Daniel... sort of forgets about the looming threat above his head. He gets caught up in the lights, in the showmanship- he's always been a fan of fights, and being in such a good seat really is exciting for him.

He remembers the moment they announce Rico. His blood ices over, sweat beading at the back of his neck. Rico is huge, and he's exactly as jacked as Daniel expected him to be.

He gets a bit lightheaded- hears the match start, watches with blurry vision as Rico tears through his opponent like butter.

There's a moment where Rico turns, eyes catching Daniel's for a brief moment- right before he hits the other man so hard Daniel feels sympathy whiplash in his neck.

There's a ding of the bell, and then Rico is definitely looking at him- blood smeared on his teeth, lips stretched into a grin.

Daniel feels a shiver run down his spine- maybe it's the last of his self preservation finally deciding he's a lost cause and jumping ship. If Daniel was street smart, he'd be hightailing it out right now- wouldn't even give Rico the opportunity.

Unfortunately, he's not. It's a well known personal failing- he's got a good eye for business, but sometimes common sense likes to skip him.

So he follows Karim back down the hallways to the setup rooms, waiting patiently after Karim leaves. Part of him wants to ask him to wait with him, protect him from getting beat to a fucking pulp, but-

Karim is part of Rico's team, and that would probably just end with two people hitting him instead of one.

------

Daniel's fiddling with the rings on his fingers when the door swings back open again, and then Rico is stepping in.

There's a wet towel around his neck, pink spots on it from where he's been wiping blood off of his split lip. He kicks the door back shut behind him, eyeing Daniel. His eyes drag across him slowly, and Daniel shifts where he's sitting on the counter, uncomfortable.

Rico huffs a laugh, tossing the towel onto one of the counters as he leans back against the door with his arms crossed, blocking the only exit.

"What, don't like being looked at like a piece of meat?"

Oh.

Daniel has a feeling that charisma isn't going to serve him well here- he averts his eyes.

"Look at me."

Rico's voice is low and dangerous, and Daniel's looking back at him immediately, heart pounding. There's adrenaline hot in his veins, but nowhere for it to go.

Rico steps forward off the door, moves right up into Daniel's space. His back is flat against the wall, large fingers coming up to grip his jaw tightly. Rico is a burning line of heat in front of him- Daniel feels tiny in his shadow. If someone opened the door, they probably wouldn't even be able to see him- it makes him feel like a prey animal, like he wants to roll over and show his belly, hoping and praying that it's enough.

He lets Rico move his chin up, meeting his eyes.

His heart has never gone this fast in his life.

"You are one lucky bastard, that Max likes what the two of you have going on. If it was up to me, I'd fucking leave you here in a trash bag."

Daniel swallows, afraid to move. Rico sneers down at him, split lip glistening with fresh blood.

"But I don't like how you're doing it, so here's what's going to happen, yeah? You're going to step it up-"

His fingers grip tighter for emphasis, jerking Daniel's head slightly.

"-and do it right. If you keep using him and tossing him away, I'll leave you in so many pieces they'll give up looking for you. Got it?"

Daniel nods, eyes wide. He can do that- of course he can do that, he's realized that he wants to do that.

Rico tilts his head, eyeing him appraisingly, and then suddenly there's a thick thumb in Daniel's mouth, pressing down meanly on his tongue-

Daniel whines.

Rico scoffs.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You're going to be a good boy now when you fuck Max, yes? Treat him nice, take care of him after. He tries so hard to behave for you-"

His thumb curls behind Daniel's bottom teeth, yanking him forward into his chest so that Rico can look down at him.

"I think it's time for you to put in a bit of effort as well."

Daniel breathes shallow through his nose, nodding. He can do that, he can-

Rico pulls his thumb out, pushing Daniel back against the wall as he turns away.

"I don't want to have to have this conversation again Ricciardo- I won't be as nice the second time."

Daniel slumps back against the cool concrete behind him, face flushed. His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest, and his eyes are wide as he tracks Rico moving around the room, pulling a hoodie over his head.

Rico looks back over at him, impassive.

"Handle yourself, and get the fuck out of my building."

Daniel has never listened to someone quicker.

[noxiatoxia]

Komaeda Nagito, and His Tendency to Use Filler Words

I've talked about this here and there, but I want to make an in-depth post with examples.

So, something that's always bothered me about the Eng release of SDR2 is the fact that Komaeda...does not use filler words as much as he should.

Let me explain.

I'm sure you know words such as "uh" "um" "ah" "er" and suchlike. When you don't know something or are thinking, you tend to say something like, "Um...yeah, so..." or "My, um, appointment is tomorrow."

These words add no "value" to the sentence, and are only placed involuntarily while speaking because you are trying to think as you speak.

Japanese has plenty of these, too. Words like えーと(etto), あの (ano), ううん (uun), ええ (ee), and so forth.

But there's other "filler" words out there. Like our earlier sentence, "Um...yeah, so..." "Um" is not the only filler word. "Yeah, so" is also a filler word, as it adds nothing to the overall sentence. It can be removed.

Really, any word can become a filler word. "You know" and "like" have real applications, but if you, like, start, like, talking like this, it's, you know, kind of repetitive, you know?

I think the vast majority of people on Earth are guilty of speaking like this in their day-to-day lives. It's just easy to do. But when it comes to media, you'll notice characters rarely stutter or repeat words. When they do, even if it's a small amount, it's noticeable because the surrounding context is that nobody else is doing it.

With all this information in mind, let's talk about Komaeda Nagito's dialogue.

実はさ、ボクは入学前に、ネットでみんなの情報を調べてきてるんだよね。

さ(sa), is a normal sentence particle in Japanese. It's used for a myriad of purposes, although many people seem to liken it to the American "Valley Girl" accent when overused, especially with another conversation particle, ね (ne).

It is a misconception that sa is "masculine". It used to be masculine way back, but nowadays it's more or less gender neutral.

This will be the topic of the post. Komaeda tends to use sa and ne in a way that is seen as "filler". These particles can be likened to "you know?" and "like" in the sense that they are real words that serve purposes, but can be repetitive.

In the sentence above, I would say the ne is not being used in a filler-like way. Sa, however, is.

"So, to be honest, before I arrived at this school, I, um, did a little research about everyone on the internet."

In this way, sa, ne, or any other particle when overused (な na is another big one, and I see Souda using it a lot) can be any filler word. Some would argue that the sentence should maybe look more like...

"So, you see, to be honest, before I arrived at this school, I did a little research about everyone on the internet."

And this is equally as correct. It's more in-line with how sa as a particle is normally used, but when translating it as how it's being used here - as a filler word - "um" may sound more appropriate in English. Neither is incorrect however, and there's a myriad of other ways you could go about writing this.

"So, you know, to be honest..."

"So, like, to be honest..."

"...I kind of did a little research..."

"...I, well, did a little research..."

etc.

ううん、いいんだよ。複雑なのはボク自身もそうだからさ。

Here, I wouldn't describe sa as being a filler word...necessarily. It adds emphasis, but it's still completely optional. Thus, I wouldn't translate it as a word imperative to the sentence's meaning.

"No, no, I totally get it. I have pretty mixed feelings about this, too."

最初はね…恐れ多いって断ったんだよ。でも、どうしてもって言われてさ。

Here is an example of him using ne in a filler-like way. You've probably caught on that particles which stand-in as filler are used usually at the beginning of a sentence before a comma or ellipses.

Komaeda actually uses ne in this manner fairly often. One of his default voice lines is "boku wa ne..." - I am unsure how this was recorded in the English dub. Probably just "I..." but personally I'd go with "Well, I..." or "I, uh..."

And unlike earlier, I would say the sa here at the ending is indeed more filler-like (not entirely still, though. Akin to the usage above).

"Um, honestly, at first…I was humbled, but I refused. But, well, they wouldn't stop insisting on it…"

By the way, Komaeda is not putting himself down in this scene. Japanese culture emphasizes being polite in a way Western spaces do not. "I don't deserve it" is a very direct translation, but in English, it makes more sense to read it as "I humbly declined".

And all these examples are just in the first conversation you have with him! You can imagine how many more there are through the whole game.

Now, here's a big question I'm sure you're thinking: "Why was this left out?"

I don't know to be honest, because...they did it with other characters.

Such as Koizumi in the same game:

だってさ、なんだか変なヤツばっかりじゃん。天才だか超高校級だか知らないけどさ…

Although Koizumi suffers from some of the same translation choices made with Komaeda, hers appears to be more consistent.

Finally, we need to talk about Naegi Makoto. He and Komaeda share beyond a voice actor - they talk the same, too. They both use the same self pronoun and you pronoun, use the same script, and also have a habit of using ne and sa in excess...though Naegi maybe does it slightly less.

Also confusing, this sometimes gets translated, like here:

そうそう、こんな危険な学校だしさ、何があるかわからないでしょ？ だから…念の為にさ。

The only reason I can think it only happens sometimes or, in Komaeda's case, not at all, is some translators on the team either didn't feel it was important to include/didn't think about it, while other translators did. Game translation typically has more than one person at the helm. A lack of good management can lead to weird discrepancies like this.

Anyways, that's all I got for now. I hope you find it interesting, because it's one of my absolute favorite character quirks of Komaeda and I am so sad it doesn't get any love in English...

[midnight--sadness]

For the AU where Ilnam takes Gihun off the game to keep him as a pet... I don't really have the words for this right now but please just imagine Sangwoo's POV for a second when he hears "player 456 eliminated" and how fucked up he'd be for the rest of the games and then getting out and going to check on Gihun's mom only to find her dead and he'd never even know what happened to Gihun (unless..?) aaaaaaa

(Unless he somehow also comes across the Salesman later on and actually has a semi convo with him where Salesman lets something slip that makes it sound like he knows Gihun and is talking about him in present tense. Nothing super obvious but something Sangwoo notices and puts together idk.. And then Sangwoo investigates?? Tries to infiltrate the games in his own way? (So imagine in a more VIP/insider sort of way) Maybe Saebyeok learns about this and also wants to help? Maybe they bump into Junho along the way and the whole merc Kim and co plot still happens but Saebyeok is on the water with Junho while Sangwoo is on the island confronting the Frontman and looking for Gihun)

(Nothing super dark/darker than canon is happening with Inho/Gihun in this AU so like I imagine he's not exactly kept there against his will.. Maybe at first, but then it's more that at some point he learned about his mother's death, and Sangwoo and Saebyeok got what they needed, and even with them being alive he's still traumatized from the games and Ilnam's betrayal and basically having to gamble with people's lives. They offered him enough money to pay off his debts and start over but he feels like he has nothing left to live for out there, like he wouldn't be able to talk to Gayeong and like Sangwoo wouldn't want anything to do with him especially after what they went through, so he just sort of... stays, and tries to convince Inho to stop the games, and when that doesn't work tries to at least keep changing them to give people the most chances of survival. Like the keeping the money change, or like a new change where people who vote to leave get to just leave and only those who choose to stay keep playing. No more 'special game' at nighttime.

And he's miserable but he really feels like he wouldn't know what to do with himself out in the real world, and he doesn't want to bring down his friends with him, so maybe it's better if he stays "dead". And meanwhile Inho is just trying to win him over and convince him that they belong together, that he can make him happy if he stays with him forever.)

-- sparks

I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS!!! 💖💖

gihun is so traumatized and insecure about his place in people's lives that he just remains in the island. gayeong is being taken to america, sangwoo will help gihun's mom he's sure, saebyeok has her life... in his head, he is of no use to anyone.

except inho. inho tells gihun that he is needed at the island. at inho's side. and also ilnam's but the old man isn't important here. inho can make him happy and fulfilled, can turn him from a man with no purpose into someone who betters the world by removing the trash from the streets. gihun is horrified by this of course, he won't be a willing participant in the murder of innocents.

so he tells inho that he needs to make changes to the games and gihun will stay. like you said, anon, the money being divided and the ones who want to leave being allowed out and the vote after each game.

unbeknowst to gihun, sangwoo and saebyeok and junho are trying to find the island.....

[noisytenant]

one of those things about viewing oneself as a system is that it's oftentimes just the only thing that makes sense.

like, you can go around thinking of yourself as one single person who just, inexplicably or through some divine fault, struggles to know what they want, shifts priorities on a dime, and always seems to fuck up the things they want in the last second, feeling some mix of disappointment and relief.

someone who always has the right reasons for doing things, except when they have no idea when they did something, which is always more often than they'd like.

or even someone who overtly and knowingly contradicts themself, never stopping to question how it can be so!

so you can be that one person. or you could say, without even putting a name to it: let's just look at the patterns here.

sometimes i feel this, sometimes i feel that. sometimes i value this, and other times that. in a perfect world, i might be able to integrate all these contradictions, but i'm obviously not doing that, because even when i do what i think is right, something always feels a little wrong.

when i split apart the threads, suddenly i can trace a line from past to present that tells me why i am the way i am... when i'm this. and oftentimes this story conveniently excludes many of the details that would lead me down the path to being that. things begin to untangle. you start to see what the whole was made of.

and it isn't even weird that we have these pockets of self-understanding in a world that throws so many contradictory requests upon us. follow all the rules... now know when to break them. don't fool around... now lighten up a little. be silent and listen... now talk and entertain.

so of course you have these forces inside you and of course they're opposing. when the world asks for one, they're often also asking for the absence of the other. they're forced to grow apart. but all of these pieces only have one source to draw from--your personal history, your life. so in that way they're all the same.

the point is--a lot of people are already fighting with themselves, they're just refusing to see it as a fight and to name the sides.

treating these sides as "that weird way i act sometimes" offers you no real options aside from "be less that" -- something nobody has ever fully succeeded in. and when you inevitably become that, all you can think is how you should actually be less this instead.

meanwhile, treating these opposing forces as something closer to a person means you can talk to them, get to know them, negotiate and compromise. and sometimes brawl, or fuck.

and none of this is easy! it happens slowly, confusingly, frustratingly. but once you understand it, you wonder what the hell you'd been doing the whole time. because you believe there is sense to be made, things start to make sense. and your world gets a little bigger.

[tavolgisvist]

The Lovers That Never Were

(for @i-am-the-oyster because)

As for you, you sit there playing this game You keep me waiting

(The Lovers That Never Were, 1987)

Don't keep me waiting here Lead me to your door

(The Long and Winding Road, 1969)

Linda: The sad thing is that John and Paul both had problems and they loved each other and, boy, could they have helped each other! If they had only communicated! It frustrates me no end, because I was just some chick from New York when I walked into all of that. God, if I’d known what I know now… All I could do was sit there watching them play these games…

(Paul and Linda McCartney, Dec.1984, interview with Joan Goodman for Playboy, 1984)

All of the clocks have run down Time's at an end

(The Lovers That Never Were, 1987)

But in a final tender moment, the Observer said, Lennon wrote under a photo of himself with McCartney: “The minutes are crumbling away.”

(Associated Press: Lennon’s resentment of McCartney reflected in book notes, July 20th, 1986)

So you, you must tell me something,…I love you, Say goodbye or anything

(The Lovers That Never Were, 1987)

And I won't go away until you tell me so No, I'll never go away Yes, I know what I feel to be right

(No More Lonely Nights, 1984)

When all of the clocks have run down All over the world We'll be the lovers that never were

(The Lovers That Never Were, 1987)

In another world we could Stand on top of the mountain With our flag unfurled In time to come In time to come we will be Dancing to the beat played On a different drum

(Tug of War, 1980/82)

We had the whole musical universe to choose from – a rock and roll song, a love song, what would it be? – so I said, “Well, let’s start with Smokey Robinson and the Miracles. Let’s think of them”, so we started off and ‘The Lovers That Never Were’ came out. It was our first song together.

We did a nice but very, very rough demo of it, just Elvis and me, but when we tried to record it properly it didn’t really work out. So I ignored it for Flowers In The Dirt and decided to try it again for this album. And we thought of bringing in a 4/4 bass drum over a 3/4 song ~ this is for the musicians among you – which just makes it swing. It’s an old rhythm trick but it made it come alive, and we then had a version that we liked.

(Paul McCartney, 1993, Club Sandwich)

It was a waltz and not working, until Paul said, How about putting a 4/4 on top of this thing. And that was so complicated, waltz and 4/4 at the same time, but I tried and Paul’s looking at me saying, You all right? I’m struggling (claps in fours, stamps in threes), but I say, Just give me five minutes. A real head twister, but it was such a groove. Made the song happen.

(Blair Cunningham, from the “New World Tour”)

Baby’s In Black we did because we like waltz time – we used to do If You Gotta Make A Fool Of Somebody, a cool 3/4 blues thing. And other bands would notice that and say, ‘Shit man, you’re doing something in 3/4.’ So we’d got known for that. And I think also John and I wanted to do something bluesy, a bit darker, more grown-up, rather than just straight pop. It was more ‘baby’s in black’ as in mourning. Our favourite colour was black, as well

(Paul McCartney, Anthology)

“Baby’s in Black” was recorded by the Beatles on 11 August 1964, and was the first song recorded for Beatles for Sale. Lennon and McCartney sang their vocal parts simultaneously through the same microphone. This was done at their own insistence in order to achieve a closer feel to the performance. (x)

It was very much co-written and we both sang it. Sometimes the harmony that I was writing in sympathy to John’s melody would take over and become a stronger melody. Suddenly a piebald rabbit came out of the hat! When people wrote out the music score they would ask, ‘Which one is the melody?’ because it was so co-written that you could actually take either. We rather liked this one. It was not so much a work job, there was a bit more cred about this one. It’s got a good middle.

(Paul McCartney in Many Years From Now by Barry Miles, 1997)

They performed Baby’s in Black live during their appearances from late 1964 until their last tour in 1966. In 1996, a live version of Baby’s in Black was released as a B-side to Real Love, the second single from their Anthology project.

[weaselle]

Be very careful when you see things like this:

___________________________________

"Read this and save a life - YOUR OWN

From a surgical nurse and certified CPR teacher:

Please pause for 2 minutes and read this:"

____________________________________

(this was copied from a real post that crossed my dash, btw, and it had more than 100k notes)

Anyone can say they are a surgical nurse and certified CPR teacher... or they could talk to someone with those credentials but misunderstand the information.

the post went on in a numbered format to say this

______________________________________

"6. HOW TO SURVIVE A HEART ATTACK WHEN ALONE? Since many people are alone when they suffer a heart attack without help, the person whose heart is beating improperly and who begins to feel faint, has only about 10 seconds left before losing consciousness.

7. However, these victims can help themselves by coughing repeatedly and very vigorously. A deep breath should be taken before each cough, and the cough must be deep and prolonged, as when producing sputum from deep inside the chest. A breath and a cough must be repeated about every two seconds without let-up until help arrives, or until the heart is felt to be beating normally again.

8. Deep breaths get oxygen into the lungs and coughing movements squeeze the heart and keep the blood circulating. The squeezing pressure on the heart also helps it regain normal rhythm. In this way, heart attack victims can get to a hospital."

________________________________________

instead of doing any of this, call 9-1-1 

I mean try this after you call, sure, try anything, but this is probably not going to work. See number 8? that is not how human anatomy works, coughing does not squeeze the heart. Changes in pressure around the lungs from coughing instigate a change in blood pressure and also alter the electro-stimulus from the vagus nervous system between the heart and brain, and can give a minor tweak to the rhythm of an already beating heart

Since this coughing technique can provoke any change in heartbeat, it is a thing that sometimes, occasionally, can work in a hospital setting to correct a couple of very specific types of arrhythmia, which is a temporary abnormal heartbeat rhythm, not a heart attack. Basically if your lower ventricles start doing something like adding a tiny extra beat, a deep cough can sometimes get it to kick back into normal rhythm, but it is working on a heart that is beating almost correctly.

For this reason, in a hospital setting, a doctor may occasionally tell a patient to try this coughing to correct a couple of exact and minor heartbeat issues, again, for a patient with a known condition who has a slightly altered rhythm in a heart that is already beating.

Actual heart attacks are marked by wildly chaotic rhythms (or no rhythm) rendering this technique useless for heart attack 99.99% of the time. The thing about chaos is you never know what you’re going to get so if you’ve called 911 or attracted helpful attention, or have literally zero other options, go ahead and try this, but it’s almost certainly only going to help with something you were going to survive anyway.

CPR breaks ribs. That’s how hard you have to squeeze a heart to make it even sort of do its job. If a deep cough could squeeze your heart hard enough for this to work, then every time somebody had a coughing fit they’d risk heart failure.

But don't take my word for it. Look it up. Ask a person you know for a fact is a doctor (i did both before writing this, my father is a retired doctor of internal medicine and my mother is a retired ICU and ER nurse, which is why this kind of misinformation bothers me so much) but more relevant to most of you out there, i didn't even just take their word for it i also looked up the information. Personally i went ahead and looked up how coughing effects the vagus system, which counts as interesting reading for me, but you don't have to do a research project on it, literally just type it in a search bar and look for valid sources

but why would anyone ever make posts like this which are outright lies and also could be dangerous for people to believe?

the answer happens to be in the rest of the original post:

______________________________________________

9. Tell as many other people as possible about this. It could save their lives!!

10. A cardiologist says If everyone who gets this mail kindly sends it to 10 people, you can bet that we’ll save at least one life.

11. Rather than sending jokes, please… contribute by forwarding this mail which can save a person’s life.

12. If this message comes around you… more than once… please don’t get irritated… You should instead, be happy that you have many friends who care about you & keeps reminding you how to deal with a Heart attack.

please take the time and boost this post by reposting it and sending it to those you love because we all need to understand how to quickly deal with heart attacks

_________________________________________________

That's why. Look at that. They want you to reblog this multiple times for them, and they tell you to do so 5 times in a row.

Bot accounts and view farmers can make money from getting high numbers of notes, views, or followers. They run their numbers up and then sell the account to entities that want access to the public for marketing or propaganda campaigns.

Random posts and video shorts are NOT the place to get important information. You may find important information in these places, but you won't know it until you check the source and look it up yourself. And if it contains information that could hurt people to believe if it's wrong... look into it a little before you share it

[justanotherhornycatgirl]

Pedophiles are wrongly ostracised based on the accusation itself (whether the disorder or the act) yes, that harms them and skyrockets the chance of them harming others. HOWEVER, this is due to the very real explicit harm that is, by definition, associated with the disorder. “I feel a strong desire to molest and rape children” is, in fact, a rather dangerous idea for people to have. Now while many disorders involve compulsions someone has no desire to act on, the fact that people push for the decriminalisation of pedophilic actions is pretty well fucked to put it mildly. There is a certain sub class of people who defend pedophilia because they don’t see it as harmful at all.

This is why people tend to be very much hostile towards pedophiles. Because the anonymity of online spaces means that there’s a high chance that any given pedophile is someone who is actually proud of their desires and past (or future) actions. The rebranding of pedophiles to MAPs certainly didn’t help matters since a lot of the internal discussions around “support” amounted to comparing AOAs and bragging about targets.

Now I do disagree with the social response here. Like any mental disorder it needs to be destigmatised to support those with it to reduce harm they experience and might create.

However, I do think that “apologise to the pedophiles” is absolutely going to see you as a target of harassment (possibly wrongly, I don’t know you) because for some people out here on the hellscape we call the internet (0/10 should shut it all down) that is code for “raping children should be legal actually”.

And again, to clarify, we are discussing the disorder that people are actually shit terrified of. Not kink or roleplay which is consensual between adults. Actual criminal behaviour at the highest level, and compulsions than scare the individual at the lowest. If people have the desire but refuse to act on it and aren’t disturbed by it? Great, that’s the best outcome, they aren’t disordered! Anything other than that is definitely a problem that needs to be addressed.

i strongly disagree that the harm is "by definition" associated with pedophilia

the majority of sexual violence against children is not perpetrated by pedophiles, and the insistence that it is only increases the danger to victims

rape is an expression of violence, not desire

and the people raping kids by and large did it because kids make an easy target when you have power over them, not because of being attracted to children

the solution to that problem is flattening hierarchies, child liberation, and sex education

and it does no good for anyone to target a separate group because we assume them to be by default responsible for harm they havent enacted

also, i dont think people should be terrified of the disorder, thats literally what ive been about

for the same reason we shouldn't be scared of people that deal with fantasies or compulsions of violence

and why we shouldn't start rounding up everyone with a rape fetish

that desire is just a thought

it doesnt need to be acted on, and alternatives to satisfy those feelings can be found

im a zoophile, im very open about that fact, and i have never once sexually harmed an animal

zoophiles likewise don't deserve to be immediate subjects of suspicion and fear just for existing

also, why do you feel the need to justify the position of the people harassing me if you agree that it is harassment?

like, the people coming after me arent compassionate defenders of children, theyre calling me a cross-dressing male rapist

theyre bigots that saw someone who would make an easy target that most people would be reluctant to defend, it is violence

theyre wolves after a wounded deer, they dont need your defending

[insanewaykathy]

I've heard that the writers chose to make Chakotay so desperate in Coda because it was a safe area to show his feelings for Kathryn, and that makes a lot of sense. Coda just boggles my mind, but here goes. What was real and what was Kathryn's imagination?

Real:

He's trying to revive her.

Then he uses a hypospray on her and she wakes up.

And this is also real, she really wakes up, first because there is no cut from one scene to another, he stops the resuscitation and then takes the hypospray, and she is not watching, she was unconscious at that time.

So this actually happened:

Chakotay tells her that he's going to get blankets and that they need to contact Voayger. See how this scene is rich in detail and emotion:

And then we have this shot of him running, but there's no one watching. If it were a hallucination, she would see him running, but the image is captured from above.

Hallucination:

When he comes back and talks about the burns in the case, she is already sitting down, this part is probably just in her head, because that is where she enters the cave and the time loops start afterwards.

And then we have them returning to Voyager and I believe that at that moment the alien started having trouble convincing her that everything was real, because the Doctor starts talking some nonsense, like for example, the fact that she contracted phagia, she ends up refuting everything, and the alien starts to get desperate and without options.

So the alien resorts to something more realistic. Back to the accident. And we have this scene:

Then we have a flash, clearly showing the change of scene.

And this scene is real:

The alien wants to make her believe that she is dead and is a spirit, so he shows her the real scene.

At this point, actual communication with Voyager occurs:

And there's a very important clue in this scene that gives it away as real. Tuvok says that the transports have crashed, and at the end of the episode, we see Tuvok and the Doctor on the planet trying to revive her, but they don't take her to Voyager because the previous statement was true. So that part can't be a hallucination.

Hallucination:

Honestly, this alien is not very smart. He shows her that the transports are down, the scene cuts and she is already on Voyager. Total inconsistency.

And then Chakotay just walks out of sickbay and he was super calm at her wake, whereas moments before he was desperate and crying.

And then we flash again, which cuts to a real scene:

And further ahead, another flash, showing another real scene:

One last flash and she finally wakes up, after literally sending the alien to hell:

And then she and Chakotay walk out hugging each other like this:

And then, you know, he gives her a flower and they go on a date on the holodeck:

THIS IS PLATONIC AS HELL!

[kenyummy]

꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ conspiracies ✰ jaime reyes ꒱

✰ SYNPOSIS : jaime just really wants you to think he's cool. in both forms. too bad you're a raging conspiracy theorist.

inspired by this post so thank you for making my mind spiral insert heart emoji. i love xolo (as everyone who knows me both online and irl knows) and i love jaime so this was just a treat

also this is highkey movie jaime coded but yj him works too tbh

!!! LIVA DNI !!!

It was a regular Monday morning when you first met Blue Beetle.

Your life was as normal as could be, and you were perfectly content living your life out like this. Growing up fine. Leaving school fine. Entering college and trying to find a real, lasting job fine.

Today was a regular old day in your regular old life. Nothing special, really. Just on your way to work at your local coffee shop—mostly to pay off your crippling student loans—in an admittedly nice (and safe) neighbourhood.

Which is why you weren't expecting this. In such a dramatic fashion—a random in a ski-mask comes by and tugs your tote bag off your shoulder, and starts running. The tote bag with your expensive ass phone, and those authentically beautiful earrings you'd gotten as a gift for your 18th inside—so of course you take running in your scuffed and ragged sneakers.

"Wh—hey! Come back here!" You yell out as people on the sidewalk rush to the side from the random pushing their way through. They may be covered by a good ten layers—but by god were they fast. No way you could catch up to them.

But you'd be damned if you didn't try. Too bad you didn't join track in high school—you have a feeling it really would've helped right now.

You consider yelling out that you have a barista's salary and you doubt there'd be much of worth inside, but you're stopped before you do.

The random thief in question is not on the ground anymore. In fact—he's three feet up in the air and dangling upside down, screaming. The ski mask falls off and you see it's actually one of your regulars in your shop.

Your eyes widen, then narrow into a hard glare "Dan?! What the hell, man?!" His eyes look anywhere but at you. He knows he's never going to get his double-caffeinated espresso ever again.

But then, you look at exactly what is holding him from that unfortunate angle. A superhero... you think. Black and blue suit—tendril-like things behind him, one holding up your thief. Blasters underneath his feet that seem to allow him to levitate so high. Pure white eyes and no mouth in sight.

"Why don't you give the lady back her bag, huh?" His voice—while it's partially distorted, he seems rather giddy. Maybe he's a new hero. You were sure as hell Batman wouldn't be running around here.

The bag drops to the ground as soon as he says it, and you rush to collect your things. People around crowd in awe at the heroic act, but all you can think about is how grateful you are that you hadn't lost your phone. Thank god for Block Blast.

You look up—Dan falls to the ground with a grunt while the hero lands gracefully on his feet, hands on his hips—you can practically feel the self-satisfaction radiating off him. He looks to you. "Are you alright, ahem—ma'am?"

Did he just make his voice deeper?

You nod, and spare him a smile. "Yes, thanks to you. I can't tell you how grateful I am that I won't be late for work now."

The hero seems rather confused, "Wait, what—"

"Thank you!" You call out as you take off, running. You had fifteen minutes until your shift started and no way you'd miss it and in turn miss an hour of pay. The hero seems to try and call out to you—but the crowd around him doesn't let him move an inch—and it's like clockwork when a camera and microphone get shoved in his face like he's nothing but a trashy celebrity.

"And, Blue Beetle—how is it that you came to this civilian's aid so fast?"

"I guess I just have a sixth-sense for saving people in need."

You grab the television remote and switch the TV off before you roll your eyes back into your skull. Jaime—your friend and currently the only person at the stand with you—seems less than pleased you did so.

"Hey! What's with you?"

You make a face. "Sixth-sense for saving people? Seriously? Even you have to admit, it's pretty stupid."

"Didn't you say that you were the one he saved this morning? And that's why you weren't late for your shift?"

Resting your elbows on the glass stand, you call for your lazy-ass co-worker (currently on his phone in the back) to take over the cash register when a customer comes in.

You continue to talk away with Jaime, who's shining a glass. "Just because I'm thankful he saved me doesn't mean he's exempt from my well-deserved critique. He sounds like a less-inspiring Superman right now."

Jaime laughs, muttering something under his breath before turning back up to look at you. "That's just mean, chica. I think he's pretty cool, no?"

He places the glass on the table near the blender—while you huff indignantly, leaning backwards. "You've always been like this with superheroes, and so have I. Some things will never change, Jaime. Just like the fact we're both in crippling debt at this dead-end job."

"But... you don't even think he is a little cool... at all? I mean—the costume's pretty sick." He stands over you, arms crossed and smiling.

You pause, thinking. "... Alright, fine. Yeah, the costume looks cool. But I think his head's too big for his body. ...Hey, he kinda reminds me of you."

"... You don't say?"

"I do say," you affirm, smiling at his scoff. "Time to get back to the shop, Reyes. You can uplift any bugs you want after our shift is done."

You press your finger to his nose and move him back, bouncing out of the back room as he watches your retreating figure—deep in thought.

You thought that would be the end of it. Maybe, in a few months or so—you'd get into trouble and a hero would come and save you like in the movies. Maybe even in a few weeks or so. Depending on how unlucky you were.

Well, it seems Lady Luck has a hate boner for you, because this was just getting ridiculous.

On Tuesday, all your stuff was thrown high into a tree and only a being with flight could reach it. The day after that, somebody was about to trip in front of your bus—saved at the nick of time by a blue hero.

Thursday, you were almost hit by a bus this time—swerving on the road like it were drunken, only for the two parts of a now disconnected bus to fall beside you, and a beetle in front of you with a smile.

On the last day of a regular school week—you nearly tripped with several large coffees on your tray—and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why your shirt was not littered with stains and why you still had a job. You don't even know where he came from.

Saturday, a pipe broke and boiling water was about to spray you in the middle of the street. Before it even touched you, a holographic blue shield formed around you and saved you from the embarrassment of a see-through shirt.

On Sunday—you were sick of this. An hour into your shift—somebody rushes in with a bat and shatters the glass casing of your displayed pasteries, stuffing them all into their mouth (how did they even do that...?) and taking off.

Before you could even react—or anyone could, for that matter—Blue Beetle was already there, in the doorframe with a tut and a shaking head. You almost lose your mind as a crowd surrounds him with a tied-up thief beside his feet.

You practically collapse when you get back home, in your dingy little apartment. You lay down like a starfish on your bed and think back to everything that had happened to you the past week.

Robbery. Sabotage (you think). Near-death experiences, twice. Plain and simple clumsiness. Probably sabotage again. And more robbery.

This was very not normal. You've come to this conclusion. Whatever supernatural entity wanted you gone was very aggressive about it. You couldn't possibly imagine what you did to piss somebody off this bad.

Maybe they just didn't like your caramel frappuccino. (You don't think it met health standards, anyway).

But what's even more abnormal than that—Blue Beetle is just always there. Every single time. Without fail—as soon as a problem arises, he just ever so conveniently shows up and saves the day like a true hero.

You practically groan into your pillow.

It's like you haven't had one normal day since he showed up. Since he first saved you. It doesn't help that Jaime insists he's a totally awesome hero just doing his job—saving civilians.

No... he's not just saving you... he's practically always there. A hero can be good. But never that good. He doesn't have super speed, nor (from what you can tell) a literal sense for danger (as you watched a building collapse on him on live TV).

There's no tangible way for him to be constantly saving you, in all different areas of the city, in no particular order.

Unless...

You enter your workplace, determined. This Monday morning you found yourself being mugged in an alleyway you didn't even know existed until today.

Take a wild guess who showed up as the gun pressed to your temple.

You discard your tote and shrug off your coat with snowflakes dribbled all over. You can't believe it had just started snowing today of all day—perhaps the universe sensed your imminent realisation and decided to try and hinder you.

Too bad, the universe could take its pity dick out of your mouth—because you didn't need it.

Today you and Jaime didn't have an overlapping shift together. His finished as soon as yours' started, actually—watching him slip on a thick jacket and greet you with a smile. "Hey, [name], what's—"

You stomp towards him—looking very mildly threatening in your green apron. You point at him, digging your nail into his chest. "You. me. Back of the shop. Now."

His eyes widen as you grab his collar and practically drag him through the cooking areas—co-workers laughing as they holler, "Jaime's gonna get some!"

Yeah, he's getting some alright.

Some conspiracy theories.

You practically shove him into a wall when you kick the back door shut.

"Jaime—I've known you since high school. Didn't really like you then—but we ended up in the same course at the same college and now we're bonded for life. You're my dude, my bro, my hermano—that's why I'm telling you this." You speak, deadly seriously. You're staring up at him with murder in your eyes.

"... Wait, you didn't like me in high school?" He deflates.

"Not important. What is important is that I need to tell you this—because I feel like I'm going crazy." You grab onto his shoulders and glare into his eyes. "I think Blue Beetle is stalking me."

A few seconds. Almost nervous silence. You don't break a sweat, but Jaime seems to be perspiring like he'd just run a marathon—eyes looking anywhere but at you. "... Why do you think so...?"

"Every single time I'm in trouble, he's always there in the blink of an eye! I mean—it's more than saving me, it's every single time. This week has literally been the worst week of my life, and he's always there. The minute somebody takes something from the cafe on my shift—boom, he's in the doorframe before I can blink. Bus about to ram straight into me? He slices that motherfucker in half."

Jaime sweats even more now. "He probably does that with everyone."

"But he doesn't! Yesterday I saw somebody robbing a convenience store in broad daylight—and the police were already there before he even showed up! And you know how long the police like to take their sweet time." You shake his shoulders back and forth. "Jaime, I swear to god—I'm not crazy. He is freaking stalking me. I don't know why, or what for, but—"

An uncomfortable laugh escapes his lips as he pushes you back, lightly, so you're not practically squishing your nose against his. "[name], I'm pretty sure you're overthinking this. That's crazy—I mean, Blue Beetle is a superhero, why would he stalk—"

"I don't know!" You practically explode before he can finish, pacing back and forth with your chin cradled and your eyes narrowed into a glare at the ground. "Maybe he thinks I'm his Lois Lane or something—maybe that's how Superman got the girl and this newbie thinks he can replicate that with me. Argh! Maybe he thinks I'm going to become a villain?! Maybe he's from the future where I already am a villain, and my first step to villainy was getting mugged in an alleyway! You can never tell with these time travellers."

Jaime steadies you with a hand on your shoulder, sighing deeply—as if he's conflicted on saying something, "Look, [name]... I think... you've gotten the wrong idea. I didn't want to tell you this, but—"

Something dings. Your phone starts buzzing in your pocket and you gasp. "Shit! My shift is starting! I'll catch you up on my theory if anything else happens—tell me whatever it is later!"

You run back into the shop like your life depends on it—and Jaime's left standing there in the snow, dejected and thoroughly disenchanted.

Tuesday morning. Everything really hurts.

The sun shines directly into your eyes the moment you awake, and have to reel back from the heavenly brightness. You have no shift today—which means, as far as you're concerned, you're free to go do whatever you'd like.

You decide to stay in bed as long as possible.

Wrapped up in cosy white sheets and limps sprawled and messy over your frame—it takes only a few hours for you to get tired of laying around and get up to actually do something.

You rummage through your closet. Yesterday was your hair-wash day, so you'd be damned if you didn't go out and show off your fresh hair. Maybe you should go and see Jaime and his family. It's been a while since you had some of his abuela's cooking.

Yeah. That'd be nice. No trouble, no weird situations, and certainly no superheroes. Just you, your friend, and his sweet family.

You pick out a cute coat and even cuter flared leggings—grabbing your phone and mints (you never know) and your keys. You walk out the door with your head held high and hope in your bones.

You should've known better. Lady Luck wasn't about to let you run around without being completely miserable—no way. Maybe this time was your fault—dividing away from the main street and going through a shortcut that was devoid of people and rather thick with heavy snow.

It was you and your uggs against the world—stomping through heavy white and snuggling closer into your scarf as snowflakes flutter into your freshly washed hair. Dammit.

Humming a little song to yourself—you don't let this get you down. You're too excited to eat some really good authentic food. No way you're going to be a Debby Downer in their lovely home!

There's a shift in the roof in front of you. It creaks a little—and you instinctively look up. Your eyes widen in panic, and your feet are so buried in the snow you can hardly move—a large pile of white fluff that would be enough to bury you alive is about to do exactly that.

It tumbles, starts to fall and you're about to accept the status of a human snowwoman—when a figure dives in front of you and a blue bubble forms around your figure.

You open your eyes, cracking the lids and peering ever so slightly. It's not cold. It's not even fluffy. You don't feel anything different—but you do see a sheepish blue and black figure, all too familiar, trapped within this same bubble.

You could see red right now. "Are you... Are you serious?!"

You expect him to jolt back, to be surprised—but he doesn't visibly seem to be. He stands there, hand behind the back of his neck and eyes focused on the snow that falls over his bubble like it were miles more interesting than you.

You barely notice it, however—as you finally decide to confront him about your little theory. "Are you stalking me?!"

Blue Beetle gasps. You've even shocked yourself a little bit. You didn't expect to be so blunt about it—but whatever gets the job done.

"Wh—stalking you?! Are you serious?! Why would I... stalk you...?" His tone starts to grow suspiciously more like a question as he nears the end of his quip—you narrow your eyes even further and press your finger accusingly into his chest plate.

"You literally show up every single time I'm in the mildest situations of danger! The moment I trip, the moment my things are stuck—the moment a freakin' bus is about to ram into me, you're always there! Are you just following me around, waiting for the next thing to happen?"

"I thought youd be more grateful! I'm saving you from danger, aren't I?" He sasses. You sneer.

"Of course I'm grateful, but tripping and falling with coffee in my hand isn't really dangerous, in my books." You cross your arms, staring up at him and his pure white eyes. "Now, if you don't have a good explanation for this, I swear on my life I will—"

You don't really have a threat on what you can do to an actual superhero—so you're kind of glad (hidden underneath all the initial shock) that he does something that steals the voice from your throat.

With one swoop—his mask is ripped off his face—a head of curly hair spills out from underneath and a face is revealed to be one you recognise so vividly.

You step back a little, eyes and mouth wide open, "... Jaime? You're the Blue Beetle...? What the hell... when did this even happen...? Why are you a freaking superhero now?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I'll answer everything later, I promise. I just..." He averts his gaze, lips pressed tightly together. "I... I wasn't stalking you, chica. I... I just didn't want anything to happen to you, so... I just happened to go around your usual routes while patrolling the city."

For a moment, you pause—and all the embarrassment hits you at once, like a freight train. You ranted to Blue Beetle about... Blue Beetle stalking you. What a life. But you don't let it show, you can't let him know your weakness right now. You're supposed to be the accusatory one here.

"So... you were stalking me, Reyes?" You lift a brow. "And you did come barging into my shop and lifted me into your arms before I could trip and lose my job."

That particular moment seems to make him flush and he turns his head to the side, "I... I just... you know..." Trailing off, it falls quiet.

A few moments of awkward silence make him speak up again. "I... wanted you to think I was... cool... and I didn't want you to lose your job... cause then that'd mean I wouldn't see you every day... and I'd really gotten used to it, you know? I swear. That was it."

You could almost laugh in his face. But you're a really good friend, so you don't. "... You know, that's such a you thing to do, Jaime. Idiot. I can't believe you let me think I had a super-powered creep following me around." A smile crawls onto your face, and it's almost so infectious it latches onto him.

His lips turn upwards, "Come on... don't embarrass me, chica. Is it wrong for a guy to want a girl to think both he and his alter-ego are cool?"

"You can't have 'em all." You shake your head, then turn around to look at the snow piled over the force field. "How are we gonna get out? I was heading over to your house, to start with."

"Ah... seriously?" He seems starstruck and almost dopey—but shakes his head quickly and reaches his hand out. The mask reconstructs over his face just as he grins, pearly white peeking out. "Come on, hermosa."

A few seconds later—you're being carried in his arms as he bursts out of the snow—hovering in the sky as you cling on for dear life. "Ho... Holyyyy shit! How do you do this?!"

Everything is so small under you, and you feel motion sick just looking at the top of snowy buildings. He laughs like he finds your fright amusing. "Don't worry, you're not going anywhere."

You pause, eyes focused on your hands for a second,d before you look up at him and his pure white eyes. "... Yeah I know. You did take care of me for a whole week... even if I didn't know it was you. I... never got to thank you for that, did I?"

His tone is light—amused, "Yeah. You were too busy ranting to me about your conspiracy theory."

Your cheeks burn and you slap his arm—knowing he probably didn't even feel it. "Shut up. I was right, wasn't I? Anyways, I'll thank you now. For the whole week.

You lean up and press a chaste kiss to his masked cheek—face feeling hot beneath your touch and you squeeze your eyes closed like you can't bear to look at him. "Thank you... thank you for being there, even if I didn't want you to."

He's stunned into silence for a few moments. Then, he speaks—shakily. "... Y... Yeah. Of course. A... Anything for you."

You smile, softly, "Good. Then how about we go back to your house and I can finally eat some of your abuela's cooking, then?"

"Sounds like a plan, hermosa." He grips you tighter in his hold. "And after that... I could fly you home...?" His voice trails off, expecting you to answer his half-question.

You laugh a little and nod, smiling. Arms wrapped around his shoulder tighter when you speak, "If that's the only thing you wanna do, Reyes."

Another moment of silence. Then, he hisses, seemingly flustered and angry, "Khaji—shut up!"

You give him a confused look, but he quickly speaks, "No—no, that's... I'm talking to my scarab..." Another confused glance. "I'll explain it all to you later, I promise."

"Whatever you say, beetle. Now hurry up."

He blasts off to your command and you bury your face in his chest as you rip through the snowy clouds.

Perhaps your co-workers were right, and Jaime really did get some that day.