#i almost fucked this post up and said 'a detective and a dog'

[abalidoth]

Certain kinds of fruit can be disassembled into finitely many nonmeasurable point sets and reassembled into a pair of TV detectives. This is known as the Bananach-Starsky paradox.

[raitonsfw]

𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 | 𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚙𝚘 ꨄ

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Ranpo wasn’t supposed to raid the ADA’s lockers for snacks, but he does anyway. When he opens your locker and spots an enclosed box of Valentine's Day chocolate, he immediately snatched it. Of course, why would he bother to read the ingredients? Cocoa butter, milk, sugar, an aphrodisiac supplement... What could go wrong? Obviously everything; you didn’t know Ranpo was such a whiny bitch when he was horny.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, horny!ranpo, slight switch!ranpo (subby then dom), accidental aphrodisiac/drug usage, banter, begging, whining & whimpering, humiliation (ranpo has to ask reader to help him), masturbation, blowjob, ranpo’s a fucking head pusher, teasing, fingering (if you squint), implied sexual intercourse, pet names (good girl), he’s like a dog in heat frfr (or rut, whatever floats your boat), ranpo’s a bit manipulative at the very end, reader works at the ADA, reader has a crush on ranpo & kinda simps for him silently, dazai mention (typical suicide mention & he’s the idiot that started this shit lol)

a/n: hello helloo, my queue posted early but imma keep it up anyways. my lil valentine’s day event starts now (albeit early), with ranpo edogawa leading it with some sexy v-day drug consumption! my first valentine to you until thursday, feb 1st! 💌 wc: 3k. v-day m.list | m.list

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

“Ranpo, what are you eating?” This was a common phrase that the Armed Detective Agency yelled, much like when you yell at a puppy when they have something in their mouth that they’re not supposed to have. Ranpo’s cheeks poked out slightly as he turned towards you, his head tilting in confusion. He was sitting on top of one of the desks, lounging about like normal but with something noticeably different in his hands; instead of the usual candy he munched on, it was a tiny red hearted box of… chocolate?

You had already started walking towards him with a bit of a rush calculated into your step, eyeing the familiar box of chocolates that were abandoned now on his lap as he leaned back. He popped another piece of chocolate into his mouth as you recognized the wretched package. He had stolen your aphrodisiac chocolate Dazai had jokingly gifted you for Valentine’s Day. “Ranpo!”

“What? You shouldn’t leave chocolate lying around when I’m here.” He said in a matter of factly tone, reaching for another one. You grabbed his wrist quickly to prevent him from eating another, throwing the near empty box in the trash. “What’d you do that for?!”

“Ranpo, those weren’t yours! And they weren’t lying around, they were in my locker!” You pulled him off of the desk by his hand and he stumbled into you slightly as he gained his footing on the floor. “You didn’t even look at the ingredients.”

“You didn’t have to trash ‘em!” He pouted at you, looking back at the trash can with an overexaggerated whine. “Why would I have to look at the ingredients? It’s chocolate.” 

“Because– they were drugged.” You barged into the restroom with him, making sure it was unoccupied. You left him in the middle to wander and he immediately took a seat on the long counter adorned with sinks. The lengthy mirror stared towards the back of him and you could see out of the corner of your eye that he was swinging his feet as you locked the door. 

“Drugged? Drugged with what?” Ranpo asked, a bit too calm. It’s like this has happened and he’s not very surprised. You’ll ask about that later, right now your main priority was getting him water and a nice place to sweat it out for the next few hours– or day considering he ate almost the entire box.

“Aphrodisiacs.” 

“Isn’t that the drug that like… stimulates you?” Ranpo interrupted your thoughts, stretching his arms out with a yawn. How was this man tired in such a constrained situation? “I don’t feel anything.” 

Maybe you should go back and read the amount that’s housed in each chocolate, you could figure out the percentage exactly and then you'd be able to gauge just how much time he would need alone. If you could get him out of the door towards his dorm, of course; that was another issue as you don’t know how fast he consumed the hearts.

“Oh trust me, you will.” You huffed out, mentally checking off everything you needed to do in order to get him out of the office. You needed to collect your paperwork so you could do it while making sure Ranpo didn’t keel over from the dosage and acquire a water bottle in case it's too late to get him to the dorms. “I’m going to get you water, stay right here okay?” 

“Sure, bring me some more snacks while you’re at it.” He leaned back against the mirror with his hands tucked behind his head, crossing his leg over the other with a sly wink at you; perhaps the only time you’d see his green eyes bright before they darkened like a storm. “Don’t keep me waiting long.” 

Fucking idiot.

As you scampered about trying to find a water bottle for Ranpo, you gathered up your belongings and wrapped your head around the situation. You were going to thoroughly kill Dazai if he hasn’t done so already himself, the thought of poisoning your coworker with a shit ton of sexual stimulants weighing heavily on your mind. You knew Ranpo most likely wouldn’t care who you got it from or why you even had it, he would probably brush it off as some weird shit you’re into. Realization suddenly hit you like a million bricks; you didn’t know him sexually, so you had no idea how exactly the aphrodisiacs would affect him.

You were close with Ranpo, but not on this level. 

You also had a slight crush on him ever since you started working with him; he had bothered you for treats on the very first day as you sat down in your office chair. You haven’t even had the chance to set up your desk, trinkets filling the box in your arms as he wheeled over in his chair to you. You liked his personality and gave him a small piece of candy you had stashed in your pocket, which was the worst mistake of your life because now he toyed with you every chance he got; whether you had snacks, candy, or a sweet drink in your hand, it was a ‘can i have some?’ 

“Ranpo?” You knocked on the bathroom door as you returned from the depths of the office, relieved to hear quiet shuffling about the tiny room.

Your relief turned to dread though when you heard his voice answer you back in a tiny whimper. “D-Don’t come in.” 

Oh, you were too late…

“I have water for you.” You said through the door, trying to bask around the uncomfortable situation that’s handed itself to you. Of course it would hit him while you were trying to find things that could help him get through it; why couldn’t the drug have waited a few more minutes?

Ranpo didn’t answer and your mind wandered, what if that dosage was lethal? Dazai would have yet another crime on his fruitful list that he so explicitly told you about, but now you’re an accomplice because the twisted chocolates were in your fucking locker. You tried to open the door, but he had locked it behind you when you had left. You could hear faint breathing on the other side, but it was too hard to make out if he was saying anything. 

“Y/N…” Ranpo managed to speak up after a few moments, quiet desperation overtaking his voice. “Why’d you have that type of chocolate in your locker anyway?” 

Oh, so he does care. It must be serious then. You hung your head against the door, a quiet sigh escaping your lips as you contemplated whether to tell him why or not. 

“Here, let me in. I can help.” You offered, gathering up the things in your hands a bit more neatly as you tried to get him to open the door. You didn’t have a choice but to stay there with him and your paperwork was sitting stale in your hands, the time ticking away and your deadlines getting closer.

“Help with what? I-I got it under control.” Ranpo stammered at the idea and you realize it sounded like you meant something else.

“Not that. I have snacks, you idiot.” 

He opened the door a few seconds after, his cape had been pulled around him towards the front of his lap and he briskly walked back to where he was sitting on the sink’s counter. You could already see the hardened bulge of his cock within the mess of the fabric that covered it and his face had become increasingly red with a blush you’ve never seen on him before. His legs were pried open on the counter and he looked so so desperate, even as he tried not to show it, he failed miserably through the small pants that huffed out of him through every syllable he managed out.

You set the snacks near him on the counter, taking in the sight of his flushed skin peeking out from underneath his clothing. He glanced towards you and your eyes immediately met the mirror in front of you, a blush creeping up on your own face. “Do you want me to stay here with you?” 

“C-Can you sit outside the door and make sure no one comes in?” Ranpo stuttered, looking away from you as he squirmed against the counter. You felt the sudden rush of heat between your legs and you tried not to stumble in front of him as you walked back towards the door. God, what a dream it would be for him to ask for your help but you knew he didn’t like you like that; he would’ve shown interest by now or have been begging on his knees for you to touch him. What a sight that would’ve been…

As you sat amongst the door in the middle of the hallway, you didn’t hear him eating his snacks which was dreadfully odd. He didn’t talk to you through the door either, the man was quiet for once; not a word spoken since you left the bathroom. It must’ve hit him really hard and all you could think about is what if he actually touched himself? What if he was pumping his cock to the thought of who knows who right now, behind the thin door that separated you too? 

You so wished you could hear the potent whimpers that slipped from his mouth as he sucked his tie between his teeth, careful to not let you hear the wretched sounds. The way that his chest would rise with heavy breaths as he went ahead and pleasured himself to get rid of the ache, the strain of his cock from those damned aphrodisiacs he was so unfortunate enough to eat. You could barely sit straight, the door awfully cold against your back as the heat emanated from you, pleading for you to touch yourself with him.

You heard one of the stall doors in the bathroom slam shut or maybe open, you didn’t know but it spooked you out of the dirty thoughts that crossed your mind. Of course you would stray off track as you sat there, thinking about your coworker– your fucking coworker. Christ, get a grip.

“Please, please, please help me Y/N.” Ranpo called out and your heart skipped a beat, taking back everything you just preached to yourself. “I can’t take it anymore, I don’t know what to do.” 

“Help you? You must be out of your mind.” You mocked back, but in reality all you’ve been thinking about was that mental image engraved in your head; he must be dripping precum by now and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together to keep your slick from pooling into the middle of your panties.

“Come here, please Y/N...” He whined out, a quiet moan bouncing off the walls of the bathroom and you’ve never moved so fast in your life. It felt like you yourself had eaten one of the aphrodisiacs, how fucking needy you were for him now just because he asked for you, no– whined for you.

You opened the door, your eyes meeting the empty spot of where he was previously sitting. Then you noticed the last stall’s door open and you rounded the corner to peek inside. When you did so, you did not expect to see Ranpo fisting his cock over, his back leaning against the wall of the stall with his knees nearly buckling underneath him. 

“This is so fucking embarrassing…” Ranpo muttered out as he noticed your presence, but his hand didn’t stop pumping his cock and he let out a quiet whimper. “Y/N, help me? Shit, please–”

“Are you su–” You started to say but you were cut off by some more of his obnoxious rambling, albeit it was slightly hot as his voice knocked up a higher pitch with desperation seeping through.

“Yes, please– fuck, I just need someone to–” Ranpo gasped out, his head nearly slamming back against the wall as he bucked up into his hand. White spurts of cum painted the floor as he came (probably again), his face screwed up in pleasure with a lengthy moan. “Ah–! I need you.”

He needed you… What did you do to deserve this? Not that you were complaining, everything went according to fate in your eyes as you realized he entrusted you to take care of him during this uncomfortable situation. 

“I’m not going to get on my knees inside this tiny stall, go sit back on the counter.” You said in an even tone, trying your best to not lose your cool. You followed behind him as he hopped onto the sink, his cock still leaking with more precum as it stood proudly against the pudge of his clothed tummy.

On top of admiring that, you finally noticed his outfit; or the lack of it anyway. Ranpo’s black vest was nowhere to be seen, his light tie had come undone, and the top buttons of his white collared shirt were ripped from their threads, some hanging off loosely. He looked absolutely mangled, sweat gleaming on every inch of his skin and you knew you’d both probably never talk about this again– best to enjoy it for the time being.

“Shouldn’t have eaten those chocolates, huh?” You tutted, pushing his legs open a bit more so you fit snugly in between them. You crouched down with your knees closed, eye level with his cock and you nearly choked when you saw it twitch.

“S-Shut up and help me.” Ranpo whined out and you silently grabbed at his cock, running your hand up it. He openly groaned at the sensation, thrusting up into your hand with defeated relief. His head had tipped back, his hat nearly slipping off and you took the courtesy to reach up and place it on the counter. 

“Want me to suck it?” You looked at him through your eyelashes, teasing him lightly as your breath fanned over his cock. “Or you wanna fuck me?” 

“Both… God, please Y/N, put your mouth on it already…” One of Ranpo’s hands threaded into your hair and pushed you towards his cock and you immediately shut up, taking him into the warmth of your mouth. He was bitter and slick against your tongue, the precum dissolving against it as you lapped at it. A heady moan escaped him as you swallowed him down, his thighs trembling underneath your palm and you felt his fingers grip your hair. 

“Feels so good, shit, please keep going–” Ranpo groaned, his eyes slinking down to where your mouth hollowed out around him and he couldn’t help but push you down a bit and you gagged around him– he was thick and it was hard to breathe as he started to thrust up shallowly into your wet mouth. You braced yourself on both of his thighs now, letting him fuck up into your mouth and with watery eyes, you glanced up at him again. 

Ranpo’s entire body was on fire as you complied to his thrusts, your throat slack for his cock and he couldn’t help it– as he saw one of your hands start to unbutton the top of your dress pants and disappear into the lace of your panties, his hips jutted still and he came instantly into your mouth without a warning. 

“Fuck, atta girl…” He drew out in a long moan as he watched you swallow everything he had to give, pleasure shooting through him and his vision went a little hazy as you pulled off of him with a wet slurp. Ranpo’s eyes were still glassy with lust when he opened them, the aphrodisiac wearing down slightly but not by much. As he caught his breath, he wiped the excess that dribbled out of your mouth when you swallowed, his fingers caressing the side of your cheek. “Should’ve asked for your help sooner…”

“You came so fast…” Your voice was raw and you coughed a bit afterwards, a quiet chuckle answering you.

“Thanks to the sexy chocolate you had on hand.” Ranpo mentioned with a smirk and you pressed down on his thighs as you stood up, your legs nearly giving out from the position you were in. You fell against him, his hands coming to catch you by your waist and you realized you were close to his face now. He looked considerably better, he wasn’t nearly panting as hard now but there was still a prominent flush to his cheeks. 

“Which you shouldn’t of fucking eaten in the first place.” You retorted, pouting at him with puffed out cheeks and he laughed, his hands dragging down to the plump of your ass. You let out a surprised sound as he squeezed gently, looking you dead in the eyes still.

“Oh, boo hoo. Look where it got you.” He teased, his fingers hooking through the loops of your dress pants. “Aren’t you happy you finally got your hands on me?” 

Ranpo pulled them down in one swift motion and you blushed profusely, looking away from him quickly as his fingers swiped through the mess of your cunt. He grabbed you curtly by your chin, making you look at him again and you shook with pleasure as one of his fingers curled up into you. You moaned around your words as they spilled out of your mouth in a rushed tone. “W-What are you talking about? Ranpo…” 

“It doesn’t take my deduction skills to know you like me~ Now, why don’t you ride me like a good girl? You’d like that, huh?” He breathed out against your lips as he pressed them against yours, slipping his tongue inside swiftly whilst adding another finger to the swell of your cunt and earning a wanton moan from you.

Ranpo’s other hand made you grip his cock again, which was still rock hard against the soft cotton of his shirt. His bigger hand practically covered yours in one fell swoop as he made you start to pump him again, quiet whimpering falling against the frame of your lips. “It’s your fault, y’know… you should take care of me.”

This was going to be a long work day.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[meliciousmel13]

➛ K I L L A

paring: killer!bsf!billie x reader

warnings: smut, mentions of blood (duh), kiddnaping, cheating, mesionary, doggy, billie calls r names (slut, like a few times), mean billie, mentions of alchool, kind of angst(?), strap-on sex, fingering, r has a bf, smut written by a minor. i think that's it, please comment if you find any more! ty

wc: 4,413

SYNOPSIS: billie kills, billie heals.

taglist: @chrissv4mp, @billiesguitar, @ilovebillieeilish2000, @d14n4ol, @raspberrymacaroon if your not a part of this list but want to be comment under my tag list post, which is on my masterlist.

an: so sorry this took so long, i had exams and was also busy irl with things, after finishing i feel so fucking tired and literally everything discusts me idk what tf is wrong with me.

he was sweet at first. you swore it. he was the type to give you flowers everyday. and used to send you good morning and goodnight texts everyday. until he didn’t. you don’t know when you detected that change in him. you don’t know if he just decided to be cruel one day.

he doesn’t even hit you. is what he says. it’s true. he doesn’t. but what he does do, is manipulate and completely destroy your ego with just words.

like when he pointed out that it looked like you were gaining wight. he didn’t even have to tell you. you were like his trained dog. his trophy wife—girlfriend. like you had no use beyond your looks.

he’d always let his “friends” touch you, always try to impress them with you. point out that you were his pretty, submissive, pet girlfriend. most of them were ugly too.

was what billie says. she said that you should leave the asshole or maybe break into his house kill him in his sleep. she suggested doing it, but you always laughed it off. saying he treats you completely fine.

she always came over at your house when she knew he was there. intruding on your weekly dates and sitting on your couch like it was hers. he’d always glare at her. and you understood she could be a little infuriating sometimes and a little possessive but if henry wanted you, then he’d have to deal with your best friend too.

you met billie in 3rd grade. when you were small and new to the huge school. she approached you, and asked you to play with her in recces. you had so much in common. she loved to run, and you loved to run…

you were good together. you balanced each other out.

but she scares you sometimes—considering she has a gun, she’d always pretend to be dead. but you were immune to her little pranks now. she did them too often. you were too used to them.

you went to the bar just to get a drink or two. to get a break from your annoying boyfriend and equally annoying best friend, you loved her. really, you did. but she tires you out.

until you saw an incredibly hot boy walk toward you.

“hey,” he said, with a pretty smile, he was beautiful, you knew boys weren’t supposed to be beautiful, but he was.

“hi,” you said back, slightly looking up at him, tall too.

“think i can buy you a drink?”

you bit your lip, didn’t even think about henry, didn’t even think about your boyfriend.

you nodded, “i’m quinn, and you are..?” he asked, waiting for you to say your name.

“y/n.” you answered.

he was sweet and polite—talked with you a little to see if you were interested, not the intrusive, even-if-you-say-no-i-still-wanna-annoy-you type. told you he could drive you home, even asked for your number

you listened. found yourself in his jacked up car. didn’t even question why it smelled so awful in there (billie’s pranks made you not even question it). or why he had a shady duffle bag in his back seat.

“you want some water?” he asked you, driving away from the bar, and to the main road.

“yeah,” you nodded, taking a few sips and recapped it, placing it in the cup holder in the dashboard, “thank you.” you mumbled.

“you’re welcome.”

you don’t know exactly when you blacked out. it happened all at once almost. his hands on your body tying you to a wooden chair. when you woke up you were in a big warehouse. drowsy, quinn. on your phone, scrolling.

“what?” you say, looking up, and looking around. trying to find out why you were tied to a chair. when your gaze fell on him.

“your awake.” he smiled, “i think i used too much powder.” what the fuck?“you slept for too long.”

how. how the hell. did you get kidnapped. it was infuriating. all you wanted was to relax and have a drink. but you get into even more annoying bullshit.

he stayed on your phone for at least 30 minutes, or at least that’s how much it felt like. quinn groaned, massaging his temples and looking up at you.

“you got a charger?” he said, and you shake your head. which made him sigh even louder.

it took a while but he found a charger in his duffle bag. found a plug and sat down on the dirty floors continuing to scroll through your phone. also a creep. why was everyone you were remotely attracted to either 34 years old or a complete weirdo?

you heard the warehouse door creek, and see a dark figure creep inside. wearing all black clothes and—they were walking towards you.

they were in front of you now, looking up, you say a black mask and sunglasses with the hood of the hoodie covering almost everything. you wondered how he(?) could see.

you let out a small “mhph” and the figure tilted it’s head, going behind you and waiting for quinn to notice. he didn’t. so he hit the corner of the wooden chair, emitting a loud “THUMP” through out the large warehouse.

quinn finally looked behind him. “hey— uh, are you..?” he stood up, probably thinking the figure was also a killer? kidnapper? whatever. maybe he was his sidekick or something. you didn’t know. all you knew was that the person behind you had a knife. and it was currently on your neck.

“hey! whoaa, calm down dude. you don’t need to do that. we’re friends right?” for a kidnapper, he was pathetic. really fucking pathetic.

you couldn’t see behind you, but considering quinn’s smile, it was good. “yeah! yeah.. your nodding so we’re friends. we’re friends.” he repeated. seeing the man? woman? person? you didn’t know, walk towards him, with the knife hanging off his right hand.

you never would’ve seen it coming. all you saw was blood splattering across the walls and dripping onto the floors. you wanted to scream. but you closed your eyes instead. the scene of the knife slitting quinn’s throat. how he tried dropped to the floor and coughed blood.

the scene kept repeating in your brain and you saw it when you closed your eyes. you finally open your eyes. and saw the figure walking towards you, dropping the bloody knife to the floor and bending to your eye level.

it was sort of intimate. how his bloody gloved hands removed your gag. you breathed through your mouth for a while. swallowing and licking your dry lips. “thank you.” you mumble-whisper, he was untying you now and you didn’t know whether to be scared of him, or thankful that he just killed your kidnapper.

he untied you, took your hand and walked towards the seemingly dead body of quinn. there was a body of blood around him, he bent down and took the car keys from quinn’s dead body.

you felt safe. it was scary because you felt safe. a killer was holding your hand and leading you to a car and you felt safe.

he opened the door to quinn’s car. and you realized that he hasn’t spoken a word ever since he walked into the doors of that warehouse.

you didn’t know what to say. all you wanted to do was go home. or go to billie. anywhere that’s not here.

his driving was that to billie’s. you didn’t notice, maybe you did, your was brain too messy to think logically. of why you were in a killer’s car, and why you felt safe.

you arrived at the nearest building. a gas station. just staring at the gas station. did he expect you to get off? you couldn’t. your knees were too weak. so you just stared at him. and he stared at you. just holding the wheel and looking out his side of the window, waiting for you to leave. like he’d done his part or something.

“what?” you said dryly, “i’ll go— just gimme a little.” you sigh, and lay back on the seat. you could hear him sigh too. he bucked his hips and slid half way down the seat. just like billie did.

you both breathed for a while. until you gained the courage to leave. he drove off the second you got out. you walked to the gas station. there were 2 other cars behind you and you had blood on your cheeks.

the bell ringed at your entrance. and the part-timer didn’t spare a glance at you. you felt small. you kind of wanted to be small, you wanted to be like, six or something.

“um—” you wanted to go home. all you could think of was home, home, home and billie.

“what.” she said, still not looking up from her phone. you wanted her to see you. thinking your appearance would explain your situation without you having to move your mouth.

she sighed, and looked up. closing her phone and looking. her eyes skimmed past your skirt and hoodie and stared at your face.

she helped. gave you her phone so you could call someone to pick you up and you called billie. you knew if you called your henry he’d take two hours to get here. she helped clean up your bloody face and you finally talked.

“i ran away.” you explained, and kathryn listened intently, “i— i um—” you stutter, and she rubbed your arms reassuringly, you were struggling to find a good excuse, you couldn’t. so you told her the half-truth.

billie came to pick you up in record time, it took her 25 minutes. which was fast because the ride to here would take at least 33 minutes. probably sped up.

billie was concerned when she came, she hugged you tightly when you got out the station, mumbling “thank fuck your safe.” and “i don’t know what i’d do without you.” it was the first time you’ve seen her so scared. she wasn’t the type to panic, if she did she would hide it.

you were still shook. your back was stiff and your usual laid back position in her car turned all polite with your hands on your lap and your head towards the window. whenever billie asked something you’d reply dryly, you felt bad but what did she expect?

at first she wanted to take you home. to your own house that you own. but you couldn’t stay alone after that. it was too traumatizing. so she drove you to her house.

when you entered your nose was filled with billie. her musky cologne and her.

she took you to her room, and it was a mess. you didn’t care though, collapsed onto her queen sized bed. and tried to not pay attention to the smell, it reminded you of his car. the water, the bag. everything reminded you of him.

“do you wanna change?” she asked, and you nodded. looking around her room like it was the first time you’ve seen it.

she was holding the clothes now, expecting you to get up and wear them. you didn’t. just stared up at her.

“come on,” she mumbled, taking your arm and helping you get up. you didn’t know what happened, maybe your brain finally processed the entire situation. maybe you expecting felt safe enough to just cry. you did, you felt tears welling up in your eyes when billie tried taking your shirt off, you cried in her arms and she held you.

you let out small whimpers and hiccups of her name and while trying to calm you down she put your head on her shoulder, turning your head you saw a pile of black clothes in the corner, probably thrown in a hurry. ignoring it, you dig your head in her neck and breathe her in. her scent calmed you down.

its been 3 minutes now and billie has been rubbing you back and kissing your shoulders the whole time.

all you wanted to do was curl up in her lap and not think. you just wanted to not think for once. maybe she could run her hands through your hair while doing it. you didn’t have to ask. she took you to lay your head on her lap. and your heart ached with something you’ve never felt before, something indescribable and immensely painful. you curled up, half in her lap, half in your own, in desperate need of comfort from someone other than him yourself. for a moment, her gentle touch helped you forget.

it was peaceful. it was so damn peaceful and you wanted to cry because you’ve never felt so safe before. your knees hurt. and the way your legs were positioned on her lap actually hurt. but you couldn’t get away. you couldn’t think—you couldn’t do anything. it was like you were frozen.

but you liked it. you liked not thinking and not doing anything—it felt good. like for once you didn’t have to do anything. billie ran her hands through your hair and slowly undressed you with her eyes. she rubbed your hips and kissed your arms. it felt good and you wanted more.

“can i take this off?” she asked.

“yes.” you replied, turning around slightly to see her pulling your hoodie above your arms and off. she laid it down next to her and she gazed upon you like you were the moon and stars and her savior. you felt needed. in that moment you felt like someone wanted you, beyond just as friends or girlfriends or boyfriends.

billie finally touched you. she touched your belly first. rubbing your sides and looked at you. you felt kind of shy? her eyes made you shy. you wanted to look away. but you couldn’t. gasping, once her roaming hands touched your breasts.

“fuck.” she mumbled, and you didn’t even think of what you were doing. just focused on how good it felt, to have her on top of you—touching you. it was the sort of thing you dream of and never expect it to actually happen. but it did. it was happening right now.

“billie.” you whine-gasp as her hand slips under your skirt and lifting it up. it was a pornographic scean really. literally the things you’d see in porn. this was different though—heavenly.

the skirt was laying above your hips, revealing your pink underwear, and billie looked stuck in a haze. she sighed. it wasn’t an annoyed sigh or anything, she was in awe. you could see it all over her face—you could see what she was thinking.

one hand was playing with your nipples, tweaking and pinching. the other was just rubbing up and down your thigh. she spread your legs and your head was near the edge of the bed.

billie stopped the movements on your nipples and fully focused on your underwear, pulling them to the side and biting her lip, “you’re fuckin’ dripping f’me.” she breathed out, running her thumb up your pussy and collecting your arousal, “all this for me? hm?” you were flushed, if the room wasn’t already hot she was making it hot.

“billie.” you whined, and she tilted her head, “touch—”

“touch you?” she interrupted, “you want me to touch you? huh? my slut wants me to touch her,” she chuckled bending down your your legs at the side of her hips, she kissed and nipped at your neck, “c’mon, tell me how i should touch you.” she pulled away and grinned as you bit your lip, looking away and gripping her messy sheets.

“if you can’t say anything then how do i know where to touch you? so fuckin’ whiny.” she groaned, gripped your underwear with her whole fist and dragged her middle finger through your folds, slipping it half and inch in and pulled away before you could beg for more.

“billie.” you whined, bucking your hips and looking up at her with the most pitiful expression, pouty lips and eyebrows furrowed.

“billie,” she mimicked your whine, “can’t wait ny’ longer please js’ fuck me already.” she laughed, imitating you. she was so mean. by now you were ruining her bed sheets, your thighs were stained and her dark jeans were a mess, because of you.

she was sitting with her knees bent under your thighs, your legs were laid by her hips and your pussy had a perfect angle to grind on her stomach, you didn’t, she gave you a perfect opportunity to get the pleasure you wanted but you didn’t. you had this burning desire to be good for her. you just wanted to be good for her.

her hand was still gripping you underwear and you were wondering what she was thinking about, “billie?” you called out her name, looking up at her innocently like you weren’t spread out beneath her.

“yeah?

“need you.” you breathed out, and that seemed to wake her up. she got up from the bed and walked towards her dresser, “where are you going?” she didn’t answer. only digging through her dresser, she pulled out a box and took something from it, you just sighed and laid your head back on the bed.

“c’mere.” she said, taking your hips to her hands and dragging you to lay back on her pillows, taking one and putting it under your back, you smiled, for no reason at all, “what?” she asked.

“what, what?

“why are you smiling?” she kissed your neck, it was sweet, how she cared about you.

“nothing.” you shook your head, and looked down to find something poking your entrance, “billie.” you looked back up.

“what?” she smirked.

“it won’t fit.” you gripped the sheets.

“i’ll make it fit.” she said, and dragged the silicone across your pussy, entering her middle finger to get you ready for her. you moaned, it was embarrassing almost. she didn’t even do anything yet, “my pretty girl.” she breathed out, adding another finger and pumping into you slowly—she started to kiss your neck, and mumble filth into your ear.

“ffuck— billie!” you moaned—loudly, right in her ear. you didn’t mean to. really, you didn’t. but she added another digit in you, your brain was already a mess.

she pulled away from your neck, groaning. looking frustrated. but not at you, “you did that on purpose didn’t you” she asked and you looked up at her, before you could reply she dragged your thighs closer to her and pumped her fingers faster.

“billie— can’t—”

“can’t what? hm? slut.”

“m’ gonna cum—” you whined, feeling her fingers brush your g-spot. your swore you heard her mumble something but it was too quiet for you to hear. all you could think of was billie billie billie. it felt so good. your mind was fuzzy and you were seeing stars.

rolling your eyes back you could feel her gaze on you. you didn’t even think, just gripped her wrist and whined, “want me to stop?” she smirked.

“no! no, don’t stop. please please— billie.”

“you can’t cum until i say so angel.” she said, cruel. you whimpered as she took her fingers out of you, taking the silicone cock and angling it to your pussy, you bit your lip, feeling her rub circles on clit and rubbing her cock up and down on your pussy.

“hurry up.” you said.

“bossy.” she mumbled, didn’t even say anything back, just laid your head back on the bed and felt the tip go into you, instead of gripping the sheets you grip her biceps, “oh.” you gasp, and billie slowed down, so you could get used to the feeling to of the strap.

“ready?” she asked, and you nodded, she filled you up and you could feel the ridges of the strap against your walls, it was almost too big, you were scared at first but she took your hand and looked down at you with an almost sweet expression, you knew what she was thinking about though.

“who said it wouldn’t fit?” she said, and you looked up at her with your mouth agape, feeling her rub up and down your thighs while waiting for you to adjust. at least she was waiting. she was better than him.

you imagined your boyfriend walking into her room, seeing billie fucking you with her strap, you imagined his angry face, how you’d whimper moan into her ear, while staring at him. you wanted him to see.

billie was moving her hips and you gripped her biceps, it hurt, almost. you felt bad for her neighbors. but that was the least of your worries.

“wish you could see yourself.” billie mumbled, and pulled out, before you could even protest she turned you around, taking your hips and lifting them up.

oh, you felt filthy. she was angling the strap to your entrance and you laid your head on the pillow, turning so you could see her. you hated that you couldn’t see her.

“billie—” before you could even whine you felt her thrust into you harshly, “oh— fuck.” you moan.

“yeah? what do you wanna say angel? can’t say—” she gripped your hips and slammed into you roughly, “can’t say a thing, hm baby?” mean. she was so mean.

“wanna’ see you.” you whine, digging your head into the pillow, billie started to kiss up your back, you didn’t even have to see her you could feel the smirk on her face. every time she drives into you, your juices squelch, drenching both of you in a mix of sweat and slick.

“wanna’ see you.” she mocked, looking down, seeing a white substance cover the end of her strap, “fuck—” billie hissed, your moans and whimpers were driving her insane. your walls cling to her, squeezing her tighter with every thrust. her pace became erratic, desperate, hips snapping harder and faster.

“so fuckin’ tight,” she sighed, letting go of your hips and gripped the pillow under your stomach, “nd’ perfect.” she plowing into you and you were so close. you could feel it, brewing in your lower stomach, you didn’t want to tell billie, scared if you did she’d take it all away and make you beg to come.

“billie— can’t hold it.” you whine, feeling her hand grip your hips so tight you knew it would bruise the next morning.

“just a little more sweetheart.” she said, and you wanted to listen, you wanted to be a good girl, for her. but you couldn’t. clenching around her and gripping the pillow in a vice grip, s hard you were scared it was going to rip. you didn’t want to ruin her pillow so you let go. holding the sheets softly.

billie saw your hesitation and sighed, “you can hold the pillow angel, i won’t be—” she licked her lips, “won’t be mad.” she reassured, and you put your hands back on the pillow.

“can i come?” you were so cute. whimpering and moaning under her. she almost said yes. wanted to say yes, but she wanted to show you how much better she was making you come, than your asshole boyfriend with a micro dick and massive ego.

“no.” she replied, and you whined.

“why not.” you had to hold back a moan, just to speak.

“cause’.”

you waited, bit your lip and closed your eyes and hoped she would finally allow you to come.

“billie.” your hands clutch onto the pillow desperately trying to hold it in. it hasn’t even been a minute yet.

“you can hold it a little more, can’t you angel?” you could’ve came right there. could’ve. it was a choice, she gave you a choice. you could come, or you could wait, just a little longer.

you held it in, feeling the strap hit deeper and deeper each thrust, it hit your g-spot every time. she already knew your body like that back of her hand and he didn’t even know what a clit was.

“how would henry think about this?” billie said, hinting to what your boyfriend would think if he saw you, “seeing you like this— hm?” you hated how she made you think of him while she was literally pounding into you.

“billie.” you warn—try to, at least. but the moan right after made it really hard to be intimidating, plus the fact that you couldn’t be intimidating to save your life. having billie trail after you where ever you go was enough scary-dog privilege. she did the intimidating, you were always smiling.

“yeah? have somethin’ to say?’ she mocked. you wanted to be mad at her, you wanted to turn around and teach her a lesson—you wanted. you never did a thing.

by this point the knot in your lower belly was hard to ignore, every time you moaned, or whined and whimpered you felt it throbbing. you squeezed around the silicone tightly feeling billie struggle to keep up the same fast pace. and you finally felt like you were winning, she was getting tired.

“can i come?” you whimpered, again, praying for her to say yes.

“you can come now angel.” billie bit her lip, holding your hips and you finally let go.

“i’m cumming!” you whimpered in between moans, screams filling her room as it finally hit you, your ears ringing and vision faltering as she helped you ride it out.

you whined when she pulled the strap out of you, leaving you empty and needy. “fuck, would you look at that.” there was a pleased smirk on her face as she looked at the soaked, creamy white strap.

“how’d that feel?” she asked, like she didn’t just give you the longest and best orgasm of your life, he’s never made you come before so you don’t even have anything to compare her to.

“s’ good.” you mumble drowsily, collapsing on your stomach to the pillow she placed there when she let go of her hold on your hips.

“so fucked out.” she smiled, and your head was turned to her bedside table, seeing some blood? red paint? something—stained on it, you ignore it, it was probably because of how old the thing was.

you heard her mumble something like, “fuck, i need to clean that” when seeing where your head was directioned, she was talking about the strap, right?

[melefim]

Swearing in Dead Boy Detectives: Episode 2- The Case of the Dandelion Shrine

Episode Overview:

31 total, 9 different words said by 8 characters.

Edwin: 1 Bloody Hell

Charles: 1 Bloody, 1 Bloody Hell, 1 God, 1 Bollocks

Crystal: 6 Shit, 6 God, 1 Jesus

Jenny: 2 Shit

Niko: 1 God

Tabby Cat: 1 Piss

Litty: 3 Fuck, 1 Ass

Kingham: 2 Fuck, 1 Shit, 2 Ass

Curses Per Character:

Edwin: 1

Charles: 4

Crystal: 13

Jenny: 2

Niko: 1

Tabby Cat: 1

Litty: 4

Kingham: 5

Uses Per Word:

Fuck: 5

Shit: 9

Ass: 3

Bloody: 1

Bloody Hell: 2

God: 8

Jesus: 1

Bollocks: 1

Piss: 1

Lines:

Tabby Cat: The Cat King is pissed. We're taking you to him.

Edwin: What the bloody hell is this? (Bracelet)

Crystal: Ok, props for the like, Herculean-level effort, but vandalizing my shit isn't getting us anywhere.

Charles: Oh my god, here we go.

Jenny: Whatever angsty, John Hughes-level bullshit that's going on in here, just do it more quietly.

Crystal: Oh, shit. Sorry. (Almost runs into Niko)

Crystal: Oh my god, holy shit! (Niko collapses)

Crystal: God, I feel lonely too.

Crystal: Jesus, you guys are like a dead married couple on acid.

Crystal: Oh my God! Holy shit, how does today keep getting more disgusting? (Looks at Paranormal Parasitics book)

Crystal: God… (After Edwin asks 'And were there any graves or decaying bodies near her in the woods?')

Crystal: Oh my god, Charles back me up.

Crystal: Oh, shit, uh... (Sees sprite-controlled Niko in butcher shop)

Charles: Bloody Hell. Is this what's gonna happen to Niko?

Charles: I thought you said even Aramaic was easy with a bit of study. Bloody read it.

Charles: Bollocks! (After he breaks the vessel)

Jenny: Just cut the weird shit. Or I'll like evict you

Crystal: Oh my god, Niko! (Niko starts seizing)

Kingham: For real, it smells like dog shit in there.

Litty: Little ghost fucker!

Kingham: Baby trapping asshole!

Crystal: Niko? Holy shit, your hair!

Niko: Oh my god. Are these your friends?

Litty: I'm gonna tell you something, because I think you really need to hear it, okay? You should go fuck yourself.

Kingham: What gives, asshole?

Litty: You know what? You can take that sweater and you can shove it up your ass. Do you have any clue how powerful we are? We are fucking gods!

Kingham: You better hope we never get out of here or we are going to fuck you up, like 'brass knuckles and mace' fuck you up!

Notes:

Not Included:

Litty flips off Charles, Edwin, and Crystal with both hands, and then later Kingham and Litty both flip off Edwin.

Not a curse, but…

A “Bobtail” (What Edwin’s dad would have called Crystal) was slang for a prostitute

An “Unlicked Cub” (What Edwin’s dad would have called Charles) was slang for “A rude uncouth young fellow”

Updated:

- Replaced ‘Uses Per Word’ chart with a version with better labels.

- Added a god from Crystal I missed

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

More Dead Boy Detectives Swearing Posts:

Masterlist

Swearing by Episode

Swearing by Character

Swearing by Word

All Swearing Posts

And if you like lists of things like I do, you can check out my other Dead Boy Detectives ones here!

When Charles’ Shirt Colors Change

George Rextrew’s Edwin comic inspo board

Full soundtrack with timestamps

Moves, Incidents, and Cases Masterlist

First pass at finding where the songs in the score are used- full post with timestamps in progress.

[icequeenbae]

You Bet Your Ass (m) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Established Relationship, PWP, slice of life, fluff, smut

Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, anal (m receiving while being a drama queen about it), sex toys (picture fluffy tail butt plugs)

Word Count: ~3.6k

Summary: Baekhyun realizes that betting his ass for a petty argument with his partner was moronic. He is a man of his word though. He will follow through.

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s note: Yay, it’s time to celebrate another milestone!! Thank you guys for joining me on this wild ride haha I hope you enjoy this little somethin’ bbhorny times detected lmao This would be a little different rip Baek's ass but I just wrote that on a whim in a couple of days and thought it’s great for the occasion. Let me know if you enjoyed it!

Tags: @k-vanity  @exo-writers-net @bbh-net @superm-net

Baekhyun’s eyes were rounder than the moon when he realized that he was wrong.

You were having a very out of the blue argument just the other day, and the fatal words had escaped his mouth.

‘Can you bet your ass that you’re right?’

It wasn’t even a real issue to fight about. The reason you got so fired up over nothing was alcohol, of all things. Neither one of you was willing to let it go and leave the other one having the last word, so...

Baekhyun fucked up.

‘When we confirm that I’m right, I’ll shove the fluffiest puppy dog tail butt plug up your ass and have you call me master.’

Baekhyun royally fucked up.

‘Might clamp your cute little nipples too.’

Baekhyun dug his own grave.

‘Or I will shove it up yours and have you eat your words.’ You simply rolled your eyes at him then, and to a clueless spectator it could seem like you’d forget about this petty argument by tomorrow.

But there you were the next day, standing right in front of your bed and drilling Baekhyun’s bloodless face with your eyes.

‘I told you it wasn't Bugatti. It’s number two on the list.’

Baekhyun was almost glad that you enunciated that, because he couldn’t see the screen in front of him. He stayed still for a bit, as if his soul had fled from his body, leaving him behind as a lifeless shell. His head was a vacuum, and his usually quick-witted mind was failing him at this crucial point of his existence. A few more moments passed before he slowly looked up at you, like a bashful child.

‘Heh,’ he laughed awkwardly, and you only offered him a perfunctory smile. ‘Rolls-Royce Boat Tail is more expensive? It seems like I’ve- made a mistake?’

‘You were totally wrong.’ You responded mercilessly, making him shudder.

‘Babe-’

‘Oh no. Forget it.’ You raised your palm, cutting him off. ‘I had to listen a-a-all night how ‘fun’ it’s gonna be for you to see me all fluffy-tailed and roughed up.’

‘I said no such thing!’ Baekhyun shrieked, quickly catching himself as you gave him a look. ‘Babe…’

‘Did you not?’ You huffed, crossing your arms on your chest. ‘I assume you also do not recall running your mouth about my nipples?’

Baekhyun licked his lips nervously and swallowed.

He remembered. He remembered how he initiated his own demise. Was he for real? And for such a nonsensical argument too…

Baekhyun dropped on his knees right in front of you, and you almost jumped from the sound of him crashing on the floor so dramatically.

‘Y/N-ie, I was in the wrong.’ He said, hugging your legs. ‘I’m sorry.’

When your ass is on the line, nothing would be beneath you, not even begging, right?

However, this did not faze you at all. You were so used to his antics that it only made you even more determined not to let him off the hook.

‘Oh, but Baekhyunie… What should we do? You’ve already purchased the device for the execution.’

This was the reason why Baekhyun avoided drinking as best he could. He didn’t just get himself into the most ridiculous entanglements, he also acted whimsically on his urges. Say, going to a specialized shop to buy the fluffiest looking tail butt plug and a pair of fluffy ears to match. He went as far as to tell the poor cashier that he was going to put it to very good use.

Well, he didn’t specify on whom.

‘Worry not, my love. I got some nipple clamps and a collar to complete your-’

‘Ba-abe-’ He muttered desperately into your thigh, hugging your hips even tighter. ‘Please, I can’t do it…’

‘Why is that?’ You huffed, although unable to resist the temptation to ruffle his soft blonde hair with your right hand.

‘I just can’t,’ he whined childishly, offering no reasoning.

‘It’s funny how you assumed that I was gonna do it the second we ‘confirm’ that you’re right. And now you’re a groveling mess at a mere thought, and I’m supposed to be the better man?’

Baekhyun knew you were right.

He also knew that if he whined for a bit longer, you would probably leave him be. But your words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was pretty obnoxious about this when you made the damn bet, and he was the one who initially suggested the punishment. And he was so sure he was right that he didn’t even try for a second to step into the loser’s shoes. He didn’t think it through, and now he had to stand by his word and meet his fate like a man. This was only fair to you. Maybe a little less fair to his butt.

You craned your neck forward to peek when Baekhyun became silent for too long. He did make you kinda angry earlier, you weren’t gonna lie, and you were almost determined to make him suffer for it. But he was still your partner, and you loved him. So, when you noticed that he was getting way too stressed about it, your hand moved smoothly to pet his hair calmingly.

‘Baekhyun-ah…’

‘I’ll do it.’ He said curtly.

His voice sounded small and dispirited, and it took you another second to catch his meaning.

‘Huh?’

This time, he made an effort to sound more confident.

‘I said, I’ll do it.’

~

That exchange took place last week. And he still couldn’t do it.

He made an unenthused attempt on that very day, actually. Made a huge mess on the bed, trying to utilize massage oil to get himself ready. Instead, he simply oiled up all of the sheets, and his entire body, and didn’t manage to get the butt plug anywhere near his ass. He was screeching and wailing and groaning – all that without getting it even 0.1 inch in.

You felt like watching it was worse than just doing it yourself.

‘Babe, just give up. I don’t want you to suffer like this.’

‘No. I said I’ll do it, so I will, I just need to prepare. Shall we reschedule for Saturday?’

He had probably hoped that Saturday would never arrive, but it did. And even then, he had yet to muster the courage to take on his punishment with dignity.

But it’d been an hour, and you were getting tired of watching him huffing and puffing, crying about the injustices of life and his poor asshole. He was buck naked the entire time too.

‘I’m also cold… Why is it so cold in our house? Can’t we afford heating? I should try and earn more money…’

You sighed.

‘Baekhyun, it’s not gonna work.’ You stretched your arms and legs before sitting down next to him. ‘Either quit it or let me do it for you.’

‘You? Do it for me?’ He shook his head. ‘Impossible. I’d like to preserve at least some dig-’

‘Lie flat on your belly. Right now.’ You ordered strictly.

‘Yes, ma’am.’

You smiled at his sudden obedience. He obviously trusted you to help him get it over with, but preferred to be strongarmed into doing this. To preserve some ‘dignity’.

‘Just relax, baby. You’re way too tense.’

Climbing on top of him, you poured some of that massage oil onto his bare back. You ran your palms up along his spine smoothly, and Baekhyun grunted like an old man.

‘God, you are just one giant knot.’ You muttered, putting a little more force into it.

Another muffled grunt escaped his mouth, this time sounding a bit more like a moan.

‘Here, here, grandpa. You can entrust yourself to me. Both your back and your butt.’

He grumbled into the pillow, and you could not make out his words. Instead, you went up his shoulders to knead the back of his neck. This spot was always sore, and he did not surprise you by suddenly going tense and groaning loudly before deflating into a lax mess.

‘You know what, Y/N…’ He mumbled between sighs of contentment. ‘You can fuck me in my ass right now and I won’t object.’

‘That’s the plan,’ you giggled, satisfaction washing over you just from seeing his reaction to your touch.

Of course, you knew all of his spots, both physical and emotional. It did not take you long to turn him into a whimpering puppy. The only thing missing was the tail.

‘Seriously though,’ Baekhyun spoke up hoarsely. ‘I think I’m getting hard.’

You tugged your shirt off and leaned onto his back, allowing him to feel your half-naked body.

‘Good for you,’ you purred into his ear, chuckling as he squirmed.

Hand snaking under his abdomen, you found yourself squeezing his length.

‘You’re not ‘getting hard’, baby. You are hard,’ you hummed, giving him a couple abrupt pumps before running your oily fingers over his lower stomach. ‘Let’s get you ready.’

Baekhyun whined and hugged his pillow, while you crawled towards the edge of your bed to get the discarded lube. When you shuffled closer to him again, you couldn’t resist slapping his cute round butt.

‘Ouch!’ He yelped just for the sake of it.

‘Don’t be so sensitive, sweetie,’ you mocked him lovingly.

‘You mean!’ He answered sulkily.

‘I am very nice! And I wouldn’t start a quarrel with me if I were you. My finger’s about to be shoved up your ass quite literally.’

He was whinging again, but quickly recollected himself, throwing a blue glove at your face.

‘At least use this.’

‘Are we playing doctor?’ You teased him lightheartedly.

‘Y/N, I’m gonna die. I’m literally dying.’

‘Okay, okay.’ You capitulated, putting the glove on. ‘Drama queen.’

It wasn’t like you were a pro in this either. He was the one who had put you in this position, not that you’d asked to do this. However, you did use the time in between his last attempt to pop his anal cherry and today to gather some helpful information. So, you were intending on using it to your benefit tonight.

‘You will like it more than me, that you can count on,’ you reassured him.

‘I seriously doubt it,’ he grumbled before jumping up. ‘Ah-ah-ah, what are you doing, I’m not ready!’

‘Sorry, I poured too much lube by accident,’ you smiled sheepishly. ‘Lie back down before it gets smeared all over the sheets.’

He kept complaining under his breath but obeyed.

‘Can you like… perk up your butt a little?’ You asked, trying to find a comfortable position to start.

‘No.’ He shot back unapologetically. ‘I’ll die.’

‘Why do you keep dying before anything happens?’ You reproached him. ‘You are such a pussy.’

Baekhyun turned his head around dramatically to glare at you.

‘What?’ You stared back. ‘Did I lie? Am I wrong?’

He turned back to his pillow and slightly repositioned himself, bending his right knee.

‘Good. Arch your back a little too.’ You pressed on his lower back, and he grumbled again.

‘You hate my guts, don’t you?’

‘I love you a million, baby.’ You replied with a smile, barely containing a schoolgirl giggle from locating his asshole. ‘Wow, I didn’t expect you to prepare. How neat.’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ he replied, also laughing despite his embarrassment and frustration.

You traced his butt cheek with your index finger before rubbing his anus lightly.

‘Oh shit-’ He tensed up under the pad of your finger, and cursed again.

Giving him some time to adjust to the light strokes, you kept spreading lube over his sphincter.

‘Are you still dying, hon?’ You inquired. ‘Try to relax.’

‘I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ he gurgled into the pillow he kept holding onto.

‘We can stop if you-’

‘Just get it over with! And then I can proceed and finalize my death.’

‘What an honorable man,’ you noted sarcastically. ‘If you squeeze your butt like that, I won’t be able to do anything.’

He huffed like an intimidating hedgehog, and then sighed, giving up the last of his pride.

‘Okay. Just please don’t rip my ass.’

‘Have you seen the size of this plug? You’ll live.’

As soon as he relaxed enough for you to try something, you probed at his ring of muscles again. Praising him for keeping it more or less slack, you were able to insert one digit.

He was now only communicating in breathy curses, so you added more lubrication before slipping your finger out and inserting it back in just as carefully. It took a while for Baekhyun to get used to it and stop resisting the intrusion, and you were beginning to feel more and more like a doctor performing a procedure on him.

‘You’re doing great, baby. Two fingers in.’

‘Y/N… I can’t do this…’ He muttered feverishly, and you knew he didn’t mean it.

Frankly, he looked like he was simply in denial about enjoying this. But he had no idea that you would not rest until you found the most intriguing spot. It was the only reason you had agreed to the whole thing. You were curious about what would happen if you located it and stroked over it gently.

Like so.

‘A-a-ah!’ He jolted, and squeezed your fingers almost painfully.

‘What?’ You asked, unsure about his reaction.

‘That- what was that?’ He muttered, gripping the pillow case with his fist.

‘Did it hurt?’

‘It hurts now… But not before.’

‘It wouldn’t hurt if you relax! And I think it was your prostate. Didn’t know it’s that sensitive though.’

‘My wha-’

‘Can I stroke it again?’ You asked, enthusiasm reignited in you, despite getting rather stiff from the position you had to be in.

‘No! Leave my prostate alone,’ he barked, yet perked his ass up higher.

‘Getting mixed signals here. Should I read your ‘no’ as a ‘yes please’?’

‘Y/N…’ He whined, and you circled his spot again. ‘If you do, I think- I think I’m going to-’

‘Die?’

‘Come…’

You oh-ed in surprise. Not that you didn’t do your research, but the pace of this was unexpected.

‘Not yet. There’s one little thing left.’

You slowly slipped your fingers out of him, making him groan.

Finally, the intricate sex toy was in your hand, ready to be deployed. In several modes too, but your wrought-up partner didn’t need to know just yet. Thus, you had placed an important appliance under one of the pillows earlier.

After holding it for a few moments to make it comfortably warm – Baekhyun was a whiny little bitch, after all – you spread a sufficient amount of lube on it to make sure it’d fit easily.

Baekhyun could be heard cursing again.

‘Okay, come to momma.’

He emitted a growl, which thinned out into a whine.

You sat next to him and stroked his butt cheeks. Now that you were thinking of it, he would look pretty good with a fluffy tail. You didn’t know you had it in you, but now you certainly felt aroused at the thought of pulling at it as he fucked you. Wouldn’t that be just perfect?

‘Shit, it’s cold!’ He complained as soon as you pressed the metal body of the plug to his hole.

‘You are very high-maintenance, did you know that?’ You complained right back. ‘Take it if you wanna finish tonight.’

‘Why do you hate me so mu- a-ah-’

The plug slipped into him with much less resistance than you’d anticipated, and all that was visible now was the tail.

‘How is it?’ You asked, genuinely curious. ‘Baekhyunie? How does it feel?’

He kept breathing through it for another minute, and then managed to retort.

‘Like it doesn’t belong there…’ He tried to glance at his poor ass, but gave up halfway. ‘My life is a joke…’

‘I bet it is.’

He made an effort to glare at you.

‘Get over here.’ His angelic blond hair made him appear much less menacing than he wanted to.

You stretched out next to him, but not before removing the rest of your clothes to become equally as naked.

‘Fuck.’ Baekhyun cursed, burying his face in your breasts. ‘Remind me to never argue with you again, ever…’

‘I thought you were having fun,’ you ruffled his hair a bit, while he was letting you.

‘Yah. The pain in my butt hole isn’t really aligning with my idea of fun.’

You shoved him back slightly to get him off your chest, and groped his ass. The disturbance made him flinch, although not entirely displeased.

‘How would you react if I told you that this cute fluffy thing actually has a pretty handy remote?’

The blond looked confused, but only for a second – before you gripped at the base of his ‘tail’ and angled it.

‘Ah! Fuck this shit!’ Baekhyun moan-yelled, confirming that the toy was damn near his spot.

Chuckling at this, you leaned in to kiss his bare shoulder and reached under the pillow in the search of the said appliance.

‘There it is.’ You showed Baekhyun the remote. ‘I bet this will be nice.’

You clicked once, not giving your partner a chance to say anything.

‘Oh shit-’ He jolted in your arms, and clenched his jaw. ‘Y/N…’

‘I know, baby. I won’t ramp it up much.’ You promised, pressing your index finger to one of his nipples.

The tiny bud was firm, and you could see Baekhyun shiver from the touch.

‘Should’ve clamped them in the beginning…’ You mused, gradually increasing the vibration of the toy. ‘Does this feel alright?’

Baekhyun moaned in response.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ you snickered.

He didn’t let you laugh for much longer though, grabbing your waist and pushing you back down. Opening your legs roughly, he got between them and instantly pressed his hard cock against your labia.

‘Fucking hell-’ He gritted out, as soon as his hips snapped forward, disturbing the plug inside him.

‘This is kinda hot, I’m not gonna lie,’ you sighed, stroking his lower back. ‘Move or I will level your ass massage up again.’

‘Fuck no, I already feel like I could come…’ Baekhyun replied quickly, slowly retracting his pelvis before swaying it into you. ‘Shit, Y/N, it just feels so weird-’

‘Weird but nice, right?’ You lowered your hand to tug on his ‘tail’ again.

‘Oh god please-’ He sighed, dropping his head on your shoulder.

You could feel him shake every time you adjusted the toy. It was definitely affecting his prostate, and the sobbing he tried to muffle by your skin only confirmed it.

‘Babe,’ he moaned, renewing his slow thrusts into you. ‘You want my death or what?’

Snickering at his words, you playfully scratched his upper back with both hands.

‘Faster.’ You replied simply, grasping the remote again.

Baekhyun focused on delivering upon your request, and you physically shuddered with him. The vibration was quite literally driving him mad, so he was soon groaning in both pain and pleasure. His speech was incoherent, and you weren’t sure how many times you had clicked the button, but you could hear – almost feel – the vibration ripping through his tight muscles and abusing his prostate.

You knew his hips were moving on their own, more out of instinct rather than intent, but it was all fine. At this point, you just wanted him to finish. The buildup left both of you a complete mess, and the craving you had in you now was more of his euphoria, not yours.

‘I’m c- babe I’m-’ He tried to speak, but the intense sensation overwhelmed him to the point of squealing.

Readily clutching the remote, you pressed the button several times to avoid overstimulating him instead of prolonging his pleasure, and he still allowed a high-pitched whine to escape. He was trembling and writhing on top of you, and you could feel the hot creamy wetness pooling at your own entrance. The visual stimulation sent you into overdrive.

‘Fuck, Baekhyun-’ You moaned, eyes closing shut as you joined your partner in the oblivion.

~

It was at least half an hour later that you were finally able to untangle yourselves from each other, and free Baekhyun’s abused asshole. Not without him grunting and grumbling the entire time, of course.

‘Shit. I won’t be fucking sitting down for a fucking week.’ Your partner complained in a tired voice, flinching as his sphincter constricted again after the plug was removed.

‘Lying down is better anyways,’ you hummed, planting an impish kiss onto his butt cheek.

Baekhyun muttered something incoherent, and you were sure there was more diffident cursing in there.

You scooted closer to him and stroked his hair lovingly. Suddenly you realized that you did not employ all the inventory you had prepared.

‘Damn, we forgot about the ears and the collar too!’ You gasped. ‘Well, you can always wear them next time…’

You shrugged, trailing off, and turned to him, anticipating his reaction.

Baekhyun’s face assumed the most scandalized expression.

‘Next time?!’

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog, it is important to me and I appreciate your feedback💜 As usual, my asks are open~

[inkedroplets]

ficwip 'turn'

Too much instances of the word turn I must fire my editor at once (myself)

You Owe me a New Desk

this is just kind of sitting in my drafts and I'm too lazy to post the first chapter

“Desk,” Lena repeated, still refusing to look at her. She ran a hand along the edge, trailing her nails along the surface.  She floated rather than walked over to the desk, feet skimming over the floor. She rose higher into the air and as Lena turned back around to face her, she sat down on the very edge of the desk and then Lena’s hand pressed firmly against her stomach, trailed along the sharp curves of her abs, her fingertips running a familiar circuit along them. Lingering. Teasing.

Johanna Constantine Crossover

I should probably just sit on this until closer to Halloween, right?

“Where’s what?” Lena managed to ask in a voice that at least sounded mostly like her own.  “The grimoire or scroll or whatever magical thing you’ve decided to fuck around with that lured a demon here.” The woman examined Lena carefully, a flicker of dull recognition coming alight in her eyes. “Fuck me,” she grumbled. “You’re Lena Luthor, aren’t you?” She paused just long enough to take a closer look at her, not waiting for Lena to answer. “Yeah, it’s you. I’d recognize that jawline anywhere.” The woman ran her hand along her own face in what Lena had to assume was a mocking gesture. “Why is it you rich people always always seem to love mucking around with the occult? You can’t be that bloody bored.” “Demon?” Lena murmured, still staring at the spot the creature had been just moments before. Now though there was only a pile of untidy ash where it once stood. She turned to the woman, meaning to ask her one of the several questions she had for her but she found it impossible to do so. Her mouth felt like it had been shot full of Novocaine.

Devil in Disguise

Uhhhh I've kind of let my Lucifer crossover languish in my draft folder for uhhh years... Oops. Tinkering with it, at least

When Lena didn’t immediately hop into the idling car, Lucifer laid on his horn once more which made Lena quickly raise her hands in reluctant surrender, wincing. “I thought you said that angels couldn’t kill humans,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat, fumbling with her seatbelt clumsily. "We can’t, but throw up in my car and all bets are off.” He surveyed her with a somewhat pitying look before cranking the wheel and joining the flow of traffic. “I’d offer you some pills but I doubt any of them are aspirin although you’re welcome to check,” he said and tossed a small pill caddy into her lap. “Perhaps a little hair of the dog?” He reached into his jacket and Lena saw a flash of silver that she knew had to be his flask before he withdrew his hand. “On second thought, the good doctor might not like it if you come in with alcohol on your breath… And there's no point in dragging your feet on this. The Detective made it abundantly clear that you attending therapy would be the price for me assisting in your little act of subterfuge.”  "Yes, I remember," Lena said sourly. "When I asked the devil for a favor I was under the assumption that the eventual repayment would come much later and be far less annoying.” "As did I,” Lucifer said, making a hard right that sent a bolt of pain through Lena’s temple. “Usually when I call in favors they’re a lot more fun for me. I’m the devil, not some wish-granting fairy-godmother.” He appeared to shudder at the thought and focused his attention back on the road. “I can assure you that Linda is the best of the best. She’s been my therapist for years now…” “So,” Lena said slowly, turning to look sideways at him.“This is you after years of therapy?”

A Rich Girl With Issues

Editing in AO3 is terrible. Somebody save me.

Lena’s body was still covered in healing contusions and bruises. The worst of them were the fresher bruises that overlaid the fading ones that hadn’t had a chance to heal properly. The gash on Lena’s forehead had healed almost completely and while the nurses warned that there might be a scar, Lena had seemed wholly unbothered by the possibility. To Kara, she supposed that if there was a scar it would just be one more thing for her to admire. To love.  Lena’s stomach wound had been the most serious. The kryptonite shard had lodged itself deep enough but had miraculously missed anything vital. Kara had been loath to consider it lucky but it was at the very least a good turn after a series of very bad ones. Her doctors and nurses had given her multiple warnings about potential hiccups in her recovery and listed off a number of bumps in the road they hoped to avoid: wound dehiscence and possible infection biggest among them. But after weeks of follow-up care (with plenty more to follow) they seemed to be in the clear. 

I forgot to tag anyone. I hate bothering people but I'll very politely prod @vox-ex because I am so curious about anything they might be working on

[celabi]

hi i miss u sm i come here everyday

okay but like when you said scummy heizou.. i got all excited CAUSE IM CURRENTLY HYPERFIXATED ON HIM RN YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HES SO PRETTY

anyway, i think rather than being a loser i think he would be someone respected by others, since yk detective stuff, but some people find him creepy BECAUSE he knows a lot. despite being popular af and maybe in student council i think he would actually try to hide his scumminess?? for self image but deep. deep down inside he loves you almost as much as scummy scara would (not AS much no one can replace our lil princess). like he knows so much about you, maybe even everything. hes sneaky too so that gives an advantage. i think he would be able to do those yandere sim rival eliminations too (matchmake, maybe even manipulate someone too) and instead of being like the og babygirl we all want to see oiled up during the "arguing to let a teacher sit with you" i believe that he HAS such a good reputation to the point he can choose the seating charts. and ohoho what do you know? your friends are on the other side of the room to "prevent you from getting distracted" but hey, at least that gacha life fallen angel sits next to you, maybe its a little embarrassing cause YOU? sit next to HIM? dont be silly. fuck it happened. and maybe if you're failing he WILL do everything to be your tutor, just to sneak a few (a lot) of pictures of you on his phone, spend time together and see what you like! <3 (not that it matters. he already knows, hes a detective he knows all your dirty secrets)

MAYBEE out of character cause its early in the morning and my head is NOT RIGHT feel free to change ANYTHING you want cause im not satisfied. anyway sorry this was long and i had to bother you with this 😭

- WITH SPECIAL LOVE TO MY FAVORITE TUMBLR BLOGGER (and cuddling under the stars partner), 🎐 anon

YES BC I WROTE THAT HES IN THE STUDENT COUNCIL WHAT 😳😳😳 liek like liek he abuses his power of a high rank and gets to do stuff like other students can’t, like pull you out off class when he feels like it, or study with you in a private area instead of the crowded library.

But just cause he’s respected, doesn’t mean he’s not scummy. Heizou is always resting his hand on the lower of your back and trailing it down until either it finally lands on your behind, or you pull away before he he has the chance to grope you. He’s so kind and gives you cold bottles of water, but spits it in, so every time you take a sip, your basically kissing tbh. He’s putting what he thinks are love letters in your locker, but they’re actually kind of disturbing from the way he tells you things that he probably shouldn’t know, like “I love how kind you are to your dog, it’s just so adorable.” Or “I see the way people are your job are quite rude to you, maybe you should quit.” It’s just kinda creepy, but he thinks he’s doing a good job.

He’s not shy like scummy scara, instead he’s more proud, and popular. People don’t shove his shoulders when he walks past, but high five, and greet him. He teases you to get a reaction, and I guarantee that whatever reaction you do give him, it’s gonna give him a boner. You look flustered after he complimented your body? Oh you just look so cute that he couldn’t help it. You look annoyed? He likes the way your eyes narrow at him, and couldn’t help it. You look mad, and walk away? Holy fuck that was so hot, and if you yelled at him, he probably would have cum a little tbh.

I really don’t know when I’ll post the proper thing I wrote, but hopefully soon. It’s gonna be long though, like 3k words and I’ve only finished heizou and slightly started xiao and Gorous 🫡

[thelastspeecher]

eregyrn-falls replied to your post: “I've been watching a lot of tornado related...”

tornadoes are something that terrified me as a little kid, no doubt due to television. (i can remember a nightmare from early childhood about a tornado.) i grew up in eastern PA, where at the time we didn't have any. so it was the IDEA of them that terrified me. honestly, it still does. i would very very VERY much prefer never to live in a place that gets them with any regularity.

​i realize they're old hat for you, and that's true for anyone who lives with a natural phenomenon. you come to respect it, rather than be terrified of it. but for me, i can't get past the suddenness of them. the fact that they can strike in the middle of the night when you might have almost no warning at all. while they aren't completely unpredictable (obviously there are observable weather fronts and stuff), to me, they feel that way.

the natural disasters that i can deal with are hurricanes, and blizzards. both of those are things you see coming for DAYS. you can get out ahead of them. you can take steps to protect your house and your pets and yourself. (i mean, both of those in theory, assuming you have the means and the financial situation.) earthquakes and tornadoes are too sudden for me and that's why they scare me.

oh you're not the only one who's had a tornado nightmare! one of the worst nightmares I've had in my entire life was a tornado nightmare!

I think that what allows me to continue living in a tornado-prone area despite my general anxiety over like, idk, life, is two things: 1) tornado predictions give a crazy amount of warning nowadays, and 2) I live in a tornado-prone area, I've had a few close calls, but it's not like I live in Moore, Oklahoma lmao.

most tornado warnings aren't even that a tornado has been spotted by someone or confirmed by radar. most of them are "radar indicated rotation", meaning that a thunderstorm with a rotating cloud has been detected on radar. which doesn't mean tornado. it does mean a storm capable of a tornado and more likely to produce one, but it doesn't mean a tornado. or even a funnel cloud!

very VERY rarely are people caught off guard by a tornado anymore. FEMA says the average amount of time between a tornado warning being issued and the tornado or storm striking the area is 10 to 15 minutes. plenty of time to grab your emergency kit and go to your safe place. we have tornado watches if the weather is favorable and often know days in advance whether we'll be hit by weather conducive for tornadogenesis.

and even when we don't know in advance, like I said, we still have plenty of warning! about a week ago, I woke up to sirens, then ten minutes later, heard them again. which I knew likely meant a tornado warning had been issued (the first time, I checked my phone and saw it was severe thunderstorm and just rolled over to sleep some more lol). and before I could check, my phone went off, blaring the same alarm as an Amber Alert. which I knew 100% meant tornado warning. and it was. my roommate and I had time to use the bathroom, grab the dogs and emergency bag, and even take the dogs outside really quick to pee before the storm hit us! and we didn't have a tornado watch in effect. there weren't supposed to be conditions for tornadoes that morning.

and like I said, I don't live in Moore. if I did, I wouldn't even DREAM of living somewhere without a basement. as it is, I fucking hate that my best option is a hallway on the first floor. we've gotten tornadoes before. some have gotten close to me. one literally lifted over a building I was in. but thankfully, we're not as prone as other locations in my state; the storms tend to lose some steam by the time they reach here. and the tornadoes that do spawn tend to be lower level, again, because of the storms losing steam by the time they get here.

I know a lot about the science of tornadoes and grew up in Tornado Alley (or adjacent, depending on what graphic you use), so I know that our current methods are so flipping good at protecting us. we DO have warning. not as much as for a hurricane, but generally speaking, enough to, like I said, use the bathroom and grab the pets. earthquakes...yeah those don't typically give much warning, but that's something scientists are working on. buildings in earthquake-prone areas are built to withstand them (much like many buildings in tornado-prone areas are built to withstand severe storms), and people grow up learning what to do in an earthquake. (which is find a table to hide under, essentially, btw.)

no, what scares ME the most are wildfires.

you're flat-out fucked over by those.

[artemiseamoon]

Back on

Older Detective! Javier Peña

An: Look I’m on break and this just happened I had to get it out. If I expand I’ll post the fuller version to Ao3, when and if that happens. Did I bang this out frantically in 10 minutes? Yes I did. :)

Warnings: an unsolved case involving a killer

He has a family now. Married with two kids, even a damn dog: the whole picture perfect life. The kind of life he never imagined from his DEA days, or when he made the switch to detective after being sent home for a major fuck up.

That was a life time ago. He’s retired now, well he was until he got that phone call. Javier Peña had many ghosts; they lurk in the shadows and hide deep in his memories.

Shoved deep in the crevices are his memories of his fuck ups and things he could never come back from in his career, with that lies his one unsolved case.

Peña has a near perfect record, almost 100% cases solved. There was just one that got away from him; one case collecting dust and withering away in the unsolved files.

The outer world moved on years ago, but it never left Javier and he continued to feel for the family he couldn’t get justice for.

Many years later, that phone rang; a lead.

He still recalls the look on her face when he hung up, she knew before he could tell her.

Javier met his wife shortly after his career switch, when he was back home on his fathers farm and feeling miserable, then she came into his life and changed it forever.

And though she had the normal worries of a detectives wife, the thing that scared her most was this: the unknown killer was one of the most violent they’re ever seen.

“I just want you safe, but I understated. It’s unfinished business.” She said as she pulled him into a hug.

In his younger years he wasn’t really a hugger, never really knew what to do with them, but now he loves them, he loves the comfort and warmth.

“I have to catch this guy, I have to go back.” Javier said, his nose in her hair.

“I know, I know.” She whispered softly, caressing his back now.

.

Javier’s using the shed, all the evidence spread out.

He’s stared at this for hours, his eye’s are crossing now and the second cup of coffee wasn’t doing shit.

He almost stepped out to buy some cigarettes, but decided against it. He gave up that habit, trying to keep it that way but this case might drive him back into the arms of nicotine.

Forgoing the coffee, he goes for a beer then returns to the single chair. Seated again, his eyes travel the evidence board, looking at all this with the new lead in mind.

A certain picture captures his attention. Putting beer down, Javier goes to it and takes it down from the wall.

“Fuck-“ he scans it, then goes back to the board, looking closely.

He must have gone over this stuff a hundred times and the missing piece neatly drive him to insanity.

Now, now he has it.

“Got you asshole.” He rests on hand on his hip, taking in the whole board, “got you.”

More Pedro (Javi on this list)

No tags

Follow @artemiseamoon-updates

Subscribe on A03 (artemiseamoon) * I’ll be adding this drabble there later today

[idiopath-fic-smile]

thewalrus-said

oh my god, geoff as a werewolf. please. i would read it.

okay, tell u what, i will post what i had, which was more than i remembered.

for anyone who wants to follow along at home:

nicodemus "nic" silver is a fictitious former reporter and current fictitious podcaster, host of the equally fictitious podcast Tanis, which concerns paranormal happenings around a migratory patch of forest. i can no longer remember if it's canon that he has a dog, or if my friends and i simply decided it was so. at one point, he is drugged by enemies, but don't worry, he's fine. he is canonically kind of oblivious, although i don't think he was written this way on purpose. it is, however, definitely In The Text.

geoff van sant is his friend, an interview subject who continues to hang around the edges of the narrative. he was in the military for a while. he mentions in passing talking to a woman named Sheila, which i only mention because it comes up here. he has a very friendly, bro-y energy and is helpful to the point of being a little mysterious. like he canonically lives an hour away but is always 100% prepared to drive out to wherever nic is. the show Tanis (which i did not finish and probably wouldn't recommend [ETA: DEFINITELY would not recommend]) has its reasons for why this is, and i've got mine.

story piece under the cut.

(trigger warnings for fleeting violence, and a brief discussion or two around the fact that nic was canonically drugged against his will at one point. further trigger warning that it happens again here, although geoff finds him and intervenes before anything happens.)

They were sitting on Nic’s front porch, starting in on their second beers and petting Nic’s ridiculous dog (Ness—allegedly a history reference and not some stealth lake creature joke but Geoff wanted proof, man) when Nic said, out of the blue, “Hey, so I have this thing on Thursday, if you—”

Geoff swallowed just this side of too fast and tried to ignore the way Nic had pushed all the words out in one breath, the nervous clench of Nic’s fingers around the bottle, the absence of the audio recorder. None of that meant anything. 

For the first, oh, five or six months they’d known each other, Geoff had watched for signs like it was his goddamn job, like he was the noir detective Nic sometimes played at being—looks that lasted too long, smiles that didn’t quite make sense, any clue that the chemistry wasn’t one hundred percent one-sided. 

But a year out from that first night at the bar, and none of it had amounted to anything. Nic still didn’t call without a reason, still responded to flirting with the same ducked head and muted laugh, no followthrough. Signs surfaced left and right but Geoff was 0 for about a thousand. False positives, far as the eye could see. Sooner or later, a guy got tired. Took a hint. Moved on.

Or, you know. Stopped jumping on the freeway to Seattle any time his phone rang, but—well. The embarrassing truth was: even more than wanting to suck his dick, Geoff just liked the guy. Nic was fun, easy to talk to. When you told him a story, you pretty much always got the reaction you were going for. Might’ve been a reporter thing, coaxing out the details, but Geoff chalked it up to something less calculated, more basic. Deep down, Nic Silver wanted to be impressed. He wanted to be interested. He wanted shit to move him and change him. It was hard to turn your back on that.

Also, he had a fucking great dog.

The sentence hung half-finished in the air for the space of a full inhale and exhale.

“If I...” Geoff filled in. As conversational volleys went, hardly a gold medal move. No way did it merit Nic falling silent, picking at the bottle label with a thumbnail.

“Do you know Forest Park?” said Nic. “In—that’s out by you, right?”

“Practically my backyard,” said Geoff, keeping his face as neutral as he could. Did he know Forest Park. At this point, all too fucking well. 

He’d liked camping, once. He was almost sure of that.

“Because there’s—there’s this cultist,” Nic went on, and Geoff took another long pull of beer, less to hide his disappointment and more a bitter little toast to the universe. Of course there was a cultist. There was always a cultist. Geoff knew that by now. Should’ve known it. “Or, an ex-cultist, really, who said they wanted to meet up and tell me the truth about Paul, whatever that means. And the only place they’re willing to talk is—”

“The middle of the woods?” said Geoff. “Nic, buddy, hate to say it, but have you considered maybe it’s not a renegade but just a couple of true believer girls who wanna have their way with your nubile podcaster body? ‘Cause that is a problem you have in your life sometimes.”

It no longer counted as flirting, Geoff figured, if you didn’t do it with any real intent, any goal beyond the hilarity of watching Nic stumble with his words.

“I don’t really have, uh, any way of verifying what they’re after,” Nic said. “That’s why I was gonna ask if you wanted to maybe come along. Last time, with the thermos and the, the blindfold, that was—that was helpful, so.”

If today was the day Nic Silver admitted that only dumbasses visited super fucking shady mystery locations by themselves—the next mouthful of pale ale suddenly tasted that much brighter.

“How many more times do I play bodyguard for you before I start asking for benefits and dental?” Geoff said with a grin.

Nic coughed. “I thought maybe I could cover dinner beforehand,” he said. “If that, uh, works for. you.” NO HOMO, screamed his hunched-up shoulders, his downcast eyes, his thumbnail still doing damage to the beer label.

“Sure,” said Geoff, light as he possibly could. He nudged Nic in the side: Hey, just a pair of dudes being bros being pals, nothing to worry about. “Steak and lobster’s on you, then, man.”

“You don’t like lobster,” Nic reminded him. “You said the idea of it grosses you out, that it’s too close to eating a giant chewy bug.”

“Sounds like something I’d say,” Geoff agreed. Nic smiled at him, nudged him back for no clear reason. Geoff opened his mouth to point this out and then didn’t.

“So,” said Nic, reaching across him to pull Ness back by the collar before she could knock over the empties. He straightened back up, pushing the hair out of his eyes. “Uh, day after tomorrow at 7:30?”

“Sounds great,” Geoff mumbled, distracted. Did Nic usually smell that good? Then again, everything from the beer on his tongue to the line of the sky against the ground felt sharper than usual. More vital.

Pieces started to slide into place just then. Shit. Geoff reached into his pocket, unlocked his phone, opened the app he’d downloaded two months ago and checked the calendar. 

Yup.

“Shit, sorry,” Geoff said, running a hand through his hair. “I actually—I can’t, I’ve got something that night.”

“Like what?”

“Plans.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket. With any luck, Nic would drop it.

“What type of plans?” said Nic, and okay, Geoff could’ve seen that coming.

“It’s not—people make plans sometimes.” At the end of the day, Geoff was not great at lying, but he’d gotten decent at muddying the waters. He tried for a grin. “Feels like I should be insulted you’re this surprised I might have friends outside of you.” 

Nic’s lips thinned, almost imperceptible. “Plans with Sheila?”

It took a second to even understand what he was getting at. “What,” said Geoff, laughing, “with my sixty-year-old dental hygienist? I’m sure Sheila parties hard, but—” He shook his head. “Not so much.” 

Could’ve been his imagination but he thought he saw Nic’s shoulders settle. 

Nic had a whole social circle of his own. He had no right to be possessive of Geoff’s friendship. Nine out of ten days, it would’ve pissed Geoff off. Probably better to blow right past whatever part of his psyche was all but wagging its tail right now at the thought of Nic being possessive of him. Wagging its tail, or curling up at Nic’s feet. 

“Is it a military thing?” Nic said at last.

Geoff breathed through his nose. “Ex-military,” he said. “But yeah.” You could argue that wasn’t even a lie. “Like, a recovery treatment kind of thing.” Okay: complete and utter horseshit, but in a ‘necessarily evil’ kind of way. At Nic’s furrowing brow, he added, “It’s ongoing.” 

For some reason, that was the word Nic seemed to really find reassuring: Ongoing. Geoff’s plans were ongoing, alright. Ongoing for the rest of his fucking life, however long that was. He took another swig of beer. Here’s to you, universe. At least you know your way around irony. Kudos, asshole.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you from that,” said Nic.

“Can’t you reschedule?”

“I don’t have a way of contacting them,” said Nic, because of course he fucking didn’t. Of course. “Look, we’re meeting up right by the parking lot. It’s a well-traveled area. I don’t really think anything will happen.”

“Historically, how’s that worked out for you?” said Geoff, without thinking about it. He always forgot how spotty his impulse control got until it was too late.

Nic frowned.

Maybe, thought Geoff, it wouldn’t all be a fucking shitshow.

A guy could dream.

***

A guy could dream. He could. Didn’t mean Geoff was surprised when it all went to hell. 

In the end, there wasn’t time for surprise, bounding into a moonlit clearing to see three strangers trying to drag Nic’s limp body across the ground. Geoff didn’t think. He lunged.

It was nothing like Afghanistan. There was no calculation, no strategy. He didn’t need one. Instinct pulled at him like an undertow, drove him forward. None of the men had thought to bring a weapon. Stupid. He threw his full weight at them, reared away when one man kicked him hard in the side, bared his teeth, and lunged again.

In his peripheral vision, a flicker as Nic lifted his head. Conscious, then. But sluggish, distant, a chemical tang underlying his usual smell. They’d drugged him.

Geoff wheeled back to face the strangers. All three had heavy boots, clenched fists, some amount of combat training. Fighting to stand their ground, but their nervous sweat carried on the wind. They were afraid of him.

Good.

***

Geoff came to with the first weak rays of sun streaming through the nylon of his tent. Every muscle ached. His arms and legs felt out of joint, like his whole body had been broken and then jammed back together in the dark. Go figure. He stretched as well as he could in the narrow space. Geoff didn’t need much room on his own—morning after an outing like this, and all he generally wanted to do was shut his eyes and lie real fucking still.

Not in the cards today, though. Not after last night. Fuck.

Could’ve been a lot worse. He’d managed to run the men off, no other witnesses in sight. Nic had been docile to a degree that was honestly frightening, but with-it enough to let Geoff guide him to safety. Unharmed, far as Geoff had been able to tell. Now he was sleeping, judging from the steady, even breaths. Thank god for that.

Geoff shook himself, trying to unstick the urge that tugged at him to crawl over and fit himself against Nic’s side, bury his face in Nic’s chest and drink in the tick of that heartbeat. Objectively, it was creepy as fuck. Geoff knew that. Most of Geoff knew that.

Point was, Nic would be up soon, and that meant Geoff needed to pull himself together. Act fast. Come up with a cover story. What had he been doing in the woods? How had he found Nic’s attackers? Could he chalk that up to the military background, too? Sooner or later, it was bound to wear thin.

Inside of his mouth felt thick and sticky, bitter but not metallic. Probably not blood, then. Just dehydration. He’d stashed a water bottle in the tent someplace, but—he scratched at the hinge of his jaw. Something dark flaked off under his fingers. This time, it might’ve been blood. Not his. 

So, there was that.

He really, really had to get moving. He knew this. He turned to squint at the tent flap, wondering if he could make it out and back in time to—

“...Geoff?” Nic mumbled. 

Shit.

“Uh, yeah, buddy?” Geoff twisted his neck back around, trying to keep his voice level.

Nic stared up at him, pupils too wide, even for the dim tent. Still flying high, then. Probably for the best, although seeing him like this made Geoff’s skin crawl.

“You were right,” Nic managed. “I think that was a set-up. With the—but after the guys, I thought I saw—makes no fucking sense, because it seemed like it had, uh, human cognition, awareness, but it was a—”

“You’re fine,” said Geoff quickly. Too quickly. Nic tilted his head to one side, slow, like a cartoon deer and Geoff looked back at his open, trusting face and cast around for the least disturbing explanation. Whatever the hell that was. “It’s nothing,” he heard himself say. “Just a dream.”

If they were both very lucky, Nic would forget this conversation by morning. 

“I’m dreaming?” said Nic.

Geoff took a deep breath, pinned all his hopes to Nic’s skeptical streak. “Doesn’t that make more sense than whatever wild shit you thought you saw?”

Nic mulled this over. He craned his neck to fix Geoff with a long, considering look. “Is that why.”

“Is that why what,” Geoff prompted, itching at that spot on his jaw again. What were the odds he’d have time to wash his face before Nic woke up for real? 

“Is that why you’re naked,” said Nic.

Geoff froze. He was naked because, far as he knew, there was no way to hold onto your clothes through a full—shifting, transformation, whatever. Fuck, did he wish there was. Never more than right now, with Nic blinking up at him.

Well. People’s subconsciouses came up with all kinds of weird shit every day.

“Uh, yep,” he said. “It’s, uh—Look, doesn’t mean anything, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not,” said Nic. He swallowed. “Not worried.”

Come to think of it, Nic really should’ve been. If Geoff had been drugged against his will and then woke up in a tent with a naked guy, he would’ve punched that man in the teeth and ran for the hills, no matter who it was. Then again, maybe Nic was just too high to put it all together.

“It’s cool,” said Geoff. “I’m just gonna stay on this side of the tent, and—”

“No,” said Nic. "C’mere.” He—”beckoned” was way too precise for his sweeping, noodly arm motion, but it had that general shape. When Geoff didn’t jump to follow, he waved his arm again. “Geoff,” he said, louder, insistent.

Geoff looked around sharply, out of habit. Forest Park had trails and stuff, but camping here wasn’t technically allowed. Geoff only went because it was closest, and driving could be a problem around this time of month. Slipping under the radar was the name of the game.

“Shh,” said Geoff.

“C’mere.” Even louder.

Mentally, he weighed the pros and cons. He would’ve rather kept his distance, for a lot of reasons, but priority one had to be keeping Nic safe, which meant keeping him calm. Priority two was dodging an arrest for vagrancy. Last thing Geoff needed was a record. Priority three—well, priority three was everything else, including how bad it hurt to move.

Geoff gritted his teeth and picked his way over to where Nic lay curled on one side. “Hey,” said Nic with a vacant smile. He gave another noodly arm wave. “C’mere.” It was hard to get much closer. Not without bringing his naked body uncomfortably into Nic’s space. Geoff levered himself back to the floor of the tent until they were lying side by side, faces level, like two kids on a camping trip. One with more s’mores and singalongs, less blood and claws and trespassing. “Nic,” he said, “Man. Bad news. If you’re about to tell me the secrets of the universe, none of it’s gonna make any sense to you tomorrow.” Nic’s flailing hand landed on Geoff’s bare shoulder. Geoff watched his eyebrows knit together, unable to take in the fact of flesh and muscle and bones. Just as well that Nic was visibly still tripping. He was barely here right now, not in any way that mattered, and that made it easier not to give in and wrap both arms around him, breathe in the smell of coffee and ginger shampoo. That constant ache to reach out went beyond a pang in the chest. It weighed on his skin, crept into his joints, ground at the back of his throat like little pieces of glass. But it wasn’t so bad like this. Geoff lay still, let Nic marvel at the texture of his shoulder or what-the-fuck-ever, counting the seconds until Nic lost interest, lost consciousness. Couldn’t be long. His eyes were already almost at half-mast. Nic would let go and nod off, and then Geoff would be able to crawl out of the tent, retrieve his nearest stash of clothes, get dressed and make a plan. Wasn’t so bad. Nic dragged his palm up the nape of Geoff’s neck, threaded his fingers into Geoff’s hair. Geoff swallowed. “It’s so soft,” said Nic. “That’s—that’s really just the nature of hair, buddy,” Geoff told him, level as possible. Nic hummed and swept his fingertips across Geoff’s scalp again, slower. “Like petting a spaniel,” he mumbled. Geoff dug his nails into the meat of his palms and counted to five, trying not to close his eyes against the feeling of a hand in his hair. How long since anyone had touched him like this? Impossible to say. It’d been a rough night, a rough week, a rough decade, and Geoff hurt all over, just wanted to sleep, just wanted to cuddle up to Nic and stretch this moment out, make it last as long as he could. His willpower was always the weakest the morning after a change. Every craving felt like a good idea. He felt his head tip forward. Nic laughed, seemingly at nothing, the way very stoned people did sometimes, and Geoff’s stomach curdled. No way around it: this was a fucked up thing to do with a guy too out of it to remember his own phone number. He started to pull back. Nic tugged on a fistful of hair, just hard enough to make Geoff’s nerve endings sing. Nic did it again, and Geoff’s mind went so blank that he did a very stupid thing: he let his eyes slip shut for a second, long enough to catch his breath. 

Also long enough, it turned out, for Nic to press their mouths together. Geoff shoved him away. Nic tried to grab at him again, but it was no contest. Weak and shaky as Geoff was, it still felt like wrestling a kitten. Took about two moves to capture both Nic’s wrists, pin them to the ground. Nic looked slowly from Geoff’s face back to Geoff’s hands wrapped around his wrists and beamed like it was Christmas morning. Shit. Geoff let go in a hurry, scrambled to the other side of the tent. “Not happening,” Geoff told him firmly. “Absolutely not fucking happening.” Whatever they’d dosed him with, it must’ve had ecstasy in it or something. Geoff tried to force the bile back down his throat, tried to focus on something else. Anything else. The rush of blood in his ears. The birds resolutely chirping outside. The steady rise and fall of Nic’s breathing, finally starting to even out. Just before Nic went under again, Geoff thought he might’ve heard him mutter, “This dream is disappointing.” ‘Fucking tell me about it,’ thought Geoff.

[hintofelation99]

Hi! I love your posts and want to ask your opinion on something. Who do you think in the batfam has the most and the least common sense of a normal person? If you can, can you also list how they are arranged? Thank you!

Ooohhh, this is a fun one! In my mind all bats lack common sense. Like obviously they're hella smart, after all they are a family of detectives, they just aren't very bright.

Here's a quick rundown (least to most): Tim and Dick tie for first place, both lack common sense in just in completely different ways. Then Damian (mostly cause of the whole 'being raised by league of assassins' thing), Bruce, Cass (controversial ik), Steph, Jason, Duke, Babs, and last on the list is obvs Alfred. (Kate is probs between Cass and Steph, but I've only really seen her in the DCAMU and need to get to know her better).

And Ima add a 'keep reading' cause this is gonna get long.

Tim:

Tim is one of the smartest in the family. He deduced Batman's identity as a child, majorly fucked up the League of Assassins, and has been honored (I say this v sarcastically just btw) with Ra's creepy obsession. He's smart, plain and simple. However, when it comes to just day to day survival and being loved, goddamn that boy is dumb.

He regularly mixes energy drinks and coffee. Sometimes he even mixes energy drinks, alcohol, and coffee.

In his mind warnings are optional. "Tim, did you just sniff that drano?" "Yeah, why?" "IT LITERALLY SAYS DO NOT SMELL" "Oops"

He regularly tests shit on himself. "Why is Tim on the floor?" "He mixed joker venom and fear gas to see what would happen" "HE WHAT"

Also if you try to compliment him or tell him you love him he will find a way to misunderstand. "Tim, I love you and you are an amazing son." "I don't know who this Tim is but he sounds great" "It- it's you, literally you. Timothy Jackson Drake." "I'm a bit confused, I didn't know you knew two Timothy Jackson Drakes. You should really introduce us."

Dick:

Dick in many ways is a total himbo. He's a complete sweetheart, super supportive, and very ditzy. His ditzy-ness directly correlates to how relaxed he is. Chilling in the manor? Peak himbo. A mission in space? Absolute genius and amazing leader. Just took down a bunch of thugs? Slowly reverting into dopey boi. He always has the ability to be super analytical, smart, and big brain, but he likes being whimsical and even airheaded. And that's not a bad thing, it's just him taking mental breaks, being lighthearted.

"YOU PUT DIESEL IN YOUR CAR?" "...Yeah, in my defense the nozzles look basically the same" "They're different colors?! Also the diesel nozzle doesn't even fit into your gas tank, how did you get it in?" "I'm a good pourer."

He always responds to the word dick and it always confuses him. "God Ra's is such a dick!" "What?" "Ra's is a dick" "I'm not Ra's!" "Wha- no! I mean penis dick!" "Ohhhh, yeah he is a penis dick"

Once Dick is safe he reverts into himbo pretty quickly, even after stressful situations. "Hey Wally?" "Yes babe?" "I forgot how to change my lock screen again" "Dick, you just hacked into an alien spaceship not even an hour ago??" "What's that have to do with anything?"

Damian:

Damian lacks common sense from growing up with the League of Assassins. He's an amazing warrior and super analytical but casual human interaction alludes him. He is getting better though, so eventually he'll be lower on the list than Steph. But for now he's a senseless bby.

The first time someone tried to give him high five he assumed it was an attack and flipped them. Same with a fist bump.

This is complete canon but his original treatment of Alfred, his brothers, and, well, everyone. Like bby boy please read the room.

His ego can easily override common sense. Like he wouldn't jump off a bridge if everyone else was doing it, but if someone said he couldn't he'd immediately swan dive off that bridge.

Bruce:

For the world's greatest detective he can be a major dumb bitch sometimes. Some of it's growing up rich and some is being so wrapped up in his 'crusade for justice' that he just misses basic shit.

One time he walked in on Roy and Jason making out, the next day he saw them cuddling, then they mentioned moving in together. It took him three months to realize that they're dating.

He doesn't understand coupons, like at all. Jason has tried to explain them but Bruce just gets even more confused.

Bruce tried to make coffee once. He literally just poured coffee beans in water and microwaved it. He was surprised when it didn't taste good.

Cass:

Cass is similar to Damian in she lacks common sense from an unconventional upbringing. However she's learning way faster than Damian and depending on where in the timeline you're looking she might have more common sense than Babs.

Basic things like lines, turn taking, and speaking when spoken to aren't innate to her. Like, she knows and understands them, but often forgets about them.

There are many times that she blurs the line between civilian and vigilante because she'll do something that looks v stupid and dangerous for a civilian. The thing is she never notices when she does this.

One time she was in a restaurant and there was a cockroach on the wall across the room (cause Gotham) and instead of getting up and killing it like a normal person she threw her steak knife and impaled it.

Steph:

Steph is probably lacks common sense the most conventional yet slightly concerning way. She lacks common sense in the same way a cartoon character or sitcom character would. Like it's sorta realistic but at the same time damn bby girl why are you such a disaster??

She will do anything on a dare. Anything. There is a rule against daring Steph to do things while in the manor or on patrol.

Every time she hears someone say Red Robin she yells yum. This has gotten both her and RR shot.

Steph is v lucky that 1) she's a badass and 2) the batfam loves her because she annoys absolutely everyone just for shits and giggles and the only reason she hasn't been murdered is that Cass scares everyone.

Jason:

All common sense is lost when dramas at stake. Say what you will but Jason is the (second) biggest drama queen in the family. Also he, like most bats, lacks a sense of self preservation which leads to shit common sense.

He tried to steal Batman's tires.

Sometimes he listens to music during patrol and tries to hit people/shoot on beat. This has lead to stab wounds.

Jason loves to loudly quote classic literature while on stake outs. This is a problem for obvious reasons.

Duke:

Ok this is around the time you get to average common sense levels. But he still runs around Gotham beating people up in tights (or kevlar) so he doesn't get full points. Also he's still not Babs level common sense. One area Duke lacks common sense in is how to deal with the Batfam (which is v understandable tbh)

One time Duke was joking around with Jason and decided to steal a roll off of Damian's plate. This ended in blood.

Other than lacking Batfam common sense, most of his poor judgement moments are less notable but still concerning.

For example the time he challenged Dick to a hot dog eating contest then went on a roller coaster.

Babs:

Other than being a vigilante Babs almost has normal human common sense. However being a vigilante has negative side effects on ones common sense.

While Babs' sleep schedule isn't as bad as Tim's it's not a whole lot better. She's stayed up 72 consecutive hours multiple times.

She has accidentally poured coffee onto her computer instead of into a coffee mug.

One time she drank an entire gallon of milk before realizing it was a month expired.

Alfred:

Most assume that working for Bruce Wayne is a sign of him lacking common sense. But nah, it's him knowing, understanding, and challenging his own limits. Also it's him being a charitable human being. Like he has enough common sense to go around and tbh it's the only thing keeping the family alive.

"Master Bruce, you may not use Elmer's Glue All to close a wound."

"Master Dick I would encourage you not to teach Master Duke acrobatics on the glass coffee table."

"Miss Stephanie I would not advise trying to consume an entire jar of peanut butter in one sitting, and no, I do not care if Master Jason dared you to."

Tada, there's the list! Sorry that was probably a lot longer than anyone wanted, but I enjoy talking about how ditzy the batfam is. Like they're all geniuses but at the same time they're just sooooo dumb.

[alovesongshewrote]

Oops, I Did It Again | Connor DBH

Plot:  Sometimes you get bored.  Sometimes you get crepes.  Sometimes you get tackled by a St. Bernard [Connor DBH x Gender Neutral!Reader]

Word Count:  1,508

Warnings:  dog

A/n:  this is a direct sequel to this, and like most other sequels, it’s worse, lol.  though, you do get to hang out with sumo in this one, so

Tags: @deviatedwinter​

masterlist​

There are certain situations in which charges get dropped.  I can’t be bothered to list them, but trust me when I say an android revolution is one of them.

So, after like, a week on the run, you were free to go.  No breaking and entering charge, no theft charge, no nothing.  Just the memories of adrenaline in your veins, soft lips on yours and the joys of screwing over your employers.  

After you’d obtained your freedom, you stayed in Detroit.  It wasn’t like you had anywhere else to be or anything else to do.  In truth, you were kind of bored.  Believe it or not, there was not much to do in a rebuilding city except for supporting small businesses.  So you did.  Every Saturday was crepe day, that’s just how it was.  Or at least, that’s how it was supposed to be.

One particular Saturday, you were halfway to the creperie.  Your headphones were plugged in, your music was blasting, and you completely neglected to notice the very large St. Bernard headed your way.  You had no choice but to take note, however, when the dog jumped on you, knocking you right to the ground.  Another person may have been upset by this, but not you.  You like dogs because you are a normal and good human being overall, so getting knocked over by a lovely pup such as this one kind of made your day.

“Hey there buddy!  How are you?  I am well,” you said, allowing the large beast to sniff you.  Once the dog decided that you were worthy™, it rolled onto its back, allowing you to do the honour of petting it.  You rolled with it, deciding to pet the heck out of this random dog.

“Awww, you’re such a good dog!!  You are baby :),” you cooed, as the dog stuck his tongue out, very clearly enjoying himself.

Connor, the android sent by Hank, was not feeling the same way.  Post-revolution, the deviant detective had moved in with his partner in solving crimes, and so had been sent to walk the lovely jewel of the household, Sumo.  Usually, an activity such as this brought Connor joy, but somehow, the St. Bernard had escaped from his leash and run off through the streets of Detroit. 

Connor was, obviously, not okay with this.  He was in, as the kids call it, deep shit.  Maybe, with a human dog-walker, losing a dog of Sumo’s size might be a little more understandable.  A dog like that could easily send a toddler, or some other unsuspecting person flying through the air.  Big dogs tend to be pretty strong, and Sumo was, in fact, a big strong dog.  Connor was not some other unsuspecting person though.  He wasn’t a toddler either.  He was an android, a deviant android made of literal fucking metal.  So, how did Sumo escape his grasp?

Plot contrivances.

But that wasn’t exactly an answer Hank would accept, so when Sumo fled Connor gave chase.  You would think he’d be good at that considering his background as a detective.  He’d chased several people and androids through the streets of Detroit, his thirium pump beating out of his chest,  racing, surging forward as a familiar thrill raced through him.  He’d run through this city, forward and back, too many times to count, feet hitting the ground in time with each simulated breath.  

So, chasing a dog should be nothing, right?  Ha, no.  Out of all the things Connor had ever chased in his life, a slip of paper lost in the wind, an umbrella during a storm, deviants, criminals and the like, Sumo proved to be the most difficult creature Conner ever had the pleasure of chasing down.  When he found the dog, though, Connor found the other most difficult creature he’d ever dealt with in his android life.

“Awww, you’re such a good dog!!  You are baby :)”  

“How did you say that out loud?”

You stopped petting the St. Bernard, purely out of shock.  Now, there was a voice you’d never expected to hear again.  You’d hoped for it, of course.  Maybe you’d heard it in some of your stranger dreams, and maybe it had come in across your T.V, like, once, but you never actually believed you’d hear it again.  At least not in person.  However, when you turned, there he was.  That fucking cop.

“Well, hey there Connor sent by- huh.  Probably not Cyberlife anymore, huh?”

“I-”

“Oh, you weren’t sent by the police, were you?  I swear anything you find in my apartment isn’t mine, I stole everything-”

“I-I’m… what?”

You stopped, standing up to face Connor directly.  Sumo whined, though, so you stopped what you were planning on doing and resumed petting the dog, “Damn, I made you speechless.  I am proud of myself just so you know.”

Connor looked at you, and then at Sumo.  It seemed that the great beast liked you.  With a sigh, the android took a seat on the other side of the dog and watched as you rubbed circles into the pup’s fur.

“So,” you smirked, “It’s nice to see you again!  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of a police department before, so this is cool.  I like your shirt.”

Connor had no clue what the fuck you were on about, which was becoming a regular thing at this point.  You were referring to a plain white shirt.  He had no idea what there was to like about it.  When you grinned at him, though, he didn’t care.  He just wanted to say something to you.

“Thank you.”

“No problem!  So, is this big guy yours?”

“Uh, well, yes, I suppose.  His name is Sumo.”

If possible, your smile widened.  You rubbed the fluff around Sumo’s face and cooed again, as if you were slowly becoming a pigeon, “Sumo!!  Sumo, Sumo, Sumo.  It’s perfect!”  

For a moment, Connor found himself staring.  He wasn’t sure what the word was for how he felt watching you fuss over his dog, but he knew it was… nice.  Seeing you smile felt like seeing the sun come out after weeks of rain.  It felt like a fresh pot of coffee in the station, or the joys of a case well done.  It was nice.  Really nice.  It was just as confusing as everything else you did, though.

“Well, he is just the cutest thing!!” you squeaked.  It actually took Connor a minute to realize you were talking to him.

“I’ve heard Hank call him a ‘good boy.’”

“He is!” you exclaimed before realizing you had no idea who Hank was.  That, you decided, would not be a problem for you today.  Maybe it would be for a future you, but you weren’t going to deal with it now.  Now, you were going to cause other problems.

“So, how've ya been, Connor?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you, the last time I saw you we didn’t exactly talk, and a lot has happened since then, so… how are you?”

“I’m…  I’m doing well.  What about you, have you been alright since you…”

“Since I kissed you and fled the police station in the wee hours of the morning?”

“Yes, I believe that covers it.”

You giggled, the smile on your face growing soft as you remembered that night, “Yeah, that was fun.  The charges were dropped so I’m generally free to go.  I just have to avoid committing any other crimes and I should be in the clear.”

There was a moment of silence that almost broke you.  Fortunately, Connor broke the silence first, “Did you not say everything in your apartment is stolen?”

You could not help the loud and obnoxious laugh that escaped you, “You got me there officer!  Perhaps you’d like to visit sometime?  Y’know, to investigate,” on the last word you made sure to wiggle your eyebrows intensely.  You weren’t sure if Connor got the joke, but he did smile, so that was a win.

“So, (Y/N), where were you headed before Sumo interfered?”

“Damn, Con!  It’s always straight to the point, huh?”

“Straight t-?”

“I was actually on my way to grab crepes.  I enjoy supporting local businesses.”

The android raised an eyebrow and gave you a very fun smirk, “Are you sure you aren’t stealing from them?”

“Positive.  You could join me if you wanted to check?  They allow dogs, so...”

Once again, there was a moment of nerve-wracking silence.  Thank god for Connor, honestly, “I think I would like that.”

His answer was semi-unexpected but entirely welcome.  You jumped to your feet, instantly ready to go, “Come on then!  Let’s go!  Rock and roll, buckaroo!”

Once again confused and charmed by your antics, Connor followed your lead, standing and calling Sumo to his side.

Yeah, you were still odd.  And you made him feel weird, but it was the best kind of weird.  You were a lovely type of strange, the exact type that made him smile.  And you got along with his dog.  That, my homeskillet, is a good thing.

[catintheruemorgue]

ranpo x reader

warnings: mentions of suicide and a tiny mention of abortion also murder.

summary: ranpo comes to your work place to solve a crime.  

words:1.k next one (chuuya)

this is my first ever ranpo fic haha i hope i did him justice! anyways, i wanted to do a masterpost of songs i associate with these characters + small drabbles inspired by the songs but they all ended up being over 1k words. idk if i’ll even post another one.. maybe... i just really liked this one haha

lyrics from - Business Dog by The Voidz                            

Take me to your business place

I'm gonna be there twenty minutes late

I'm gonna fuck your face for breakfast

I love being weird, it's so weird

The office was a bit more somber when you got in as news that one of your colleagues jumped from the twentieth floor window. You didn’t really know them well but it was still sad that you couldn’t see they were hurting that bad. You ran around the office collecting papers for your boss when you ran into someone, almost dropping them in the process. 

“Hey watch where you’re walking!” 

You blinked a couple times before looking at him and standing up straight. 

“Never mind! Can you get me the person in charge? It’s so early I'd like to get this over with.” He whined and you cocked an eyebrow. 

Who was this guy? As if he could understand exactly what you were thinking he looked up at you and smirked.

“I am Edogawa Ranpo, only the best detective to ever live! I was called to prove your coworker didn't kill themselves!” His eyes were open and looking directly in his green eyes felt a bit too intimate but it wasn't the time to think like that.

“Ah! Yes detective, I can go get my boss right now.” You did a quick bow before throwing the papers you collected onto a random desk and ran off. 

You knocked on your bosses door and opened it. He sat with his back to you and a hand on his chin but then slowly turned to face you. You and your boss had an ok relationship, he respected you and you respected him. He motioned for you to speak.

“Sir, there is a detective here to see you.” 

He rolled his eyes before getting up.

“That Ranpo guy? He’s twenty minutes late.” 

He didn't say anything else to you before he slipped passed. It was weird as he had never dismissed you like that. You blamed it on the fact one of his workers just died. Turning around, you thought about how Ranpo had said that they hadn't killed themselves? Could that be true? You ran back out to the offices when it seemed like Ranpo and your boss were almost at a standoff. Or more like your boss was trying to assert dominance while the detective looked around the office for something. 

“Isn't this an office? Do you guys not keep candy bowls around?” He seemed distraught.

You perked up at that and walked to your desk, reaching into your top drawer you pulled out a bowl full of suckers. Ranpo beelined towards you and grabbed a couple before popping one into his mouth. You cringed. It was so early in the morning. 

“Excuse me detective but tell me you aren't just here to eat my employees candy. This is a business, we have work to do.” He seemed mad. 

“I’m eating candy because I already solved the crime!” Ranpo sounded confident even though the sucker muffled his voice a bit. 

Your boss's eyes widened and he seemed like he was about to physically kick the sherlock doppelganger out himself. 

“There is no crime! She killed herself, the police already investigated.” His voice got louder and your eyes grew. You had never seen him like this. 

Ranpo threw the clean stick from his candy on the floor and looked at your boss with venom in his eye.

“I'm not the normal police, they are always missing things and then leave it up to me, the greatest detective alive, to solve their mistakes. This wasn’t a suicide, it was a murder.” Your hand went up to your mouth.

“Murder? Who could do such a thing?” The words left your mouth in a whisper. 

Ranpo pointed right at your boss.

“Him.”

Leave it all to me, yeah

Just leave it to me, yeah

Leave it all to me, yeah

Make and model number, please

Your boss turned red but before he could say anything Ranpo continued. 

“Leave it all to me to solve the crime! I don't even need to use my Ultra Deduction for this!”

He walked back and forth in front of your desk as he explained.

“You were having an affair with her and she got pregnant. This wasn't on the record because you paid someone off. When she wouldn't abort it she threatened to tell your wife. Your wife owns more than fifty percent of this company, that would ruin you.” He stopped and thought for a bit.

“Anyone could tell she was with a child based on the calendar on her desk, she has doctors appointments scheduled that would match a pregnant woman. Also on the top is a number written for a midwife.” You were in awe, no wonder he was considered the greatest detective. 

Your boss shook before marching right up to Ranpo and when you thought he was going to hit him, he slammed his fist on your desk. You jumped while he just looked up at your boss with a smug look.

“I know it was your child because on her desk is a sticky note that says, “I love you always” with your initials signed at the bottom.” 

Everyone was silent as they looked on in shock.

“S-she would have ruined me.” He was quiet. 

“No, you did that yourself.” Ranpo gave him a smile as he was cuffed and taken out of the building. 

You sat there confused. You couldn't believe that just happened, it was supposed to be just a regular day of work. You snapped out of it when you realized Ranpo was still by your desk stealing all your lollipops. 

“Say, are you in charge now?” He was speaking to you.

“Um yeah, I think so?” 

“Great!” He slammed a piece of paper down. “I need you to take me to this address, the subway systems are so hard to figure out.” This man had no shame.

You grabbed your coat and put it on before nodding. As the doors of the elevator closed everyone in the office heard Ranpo loudly yell,

“Also you're hot, would you like to go get a cannoli with the greatest detective ever?” 

Yeah you were right this man really had no shame.

[slippinmickeys]

The Post

From a Tumblr anonymous prompt: “ Prompt for AU where Mulder is an investigative reporter and Scully is a Pathologist. They bicker and work together to get to the bottom of mysterious deaths and fall in love along the way. Scully is engaged to Ethan, Mulder's competition, but she is not happy or aware that he is cheating on her. Bonus points for angst, fluff, and smut.“

1.

“You can’t tell anyone I gave this to you,” she said, and he had a sudden almost-psychic sexual flash of his cock splitting the soft autumn fur at her center. Of her head thrown back, her sharp little incisors gnashing at the air.

He shook his head to clear it of the indecorus fantasy.

“The Post protects its sources, Dr. Scully,” he said, and took the envelope from her, his fingers brushing the skin of her hand as he did so. He was certain he saw the soft hairs of her wrist turn to goose flesh.

She turned her head away, offering him her profile, a soft rise of color high on her cheekbone.

“Ethan Minette is my fiancé, Mr. Mulder,” she said quietly, not meeting his eye.

He nearly staggered back, the past six weeks running like a movie montage on hyper speed through his mind. Minette—on the City Desk at the Times—handing cash under the table to a beat cop on K Street; the Trojan horse on Mulder’s computer, his own scoop running in the Times an hour before the Post went to press; Minette’s hand sliding down the hip of a White House aide before disappearing with her into the coat check room at The Palm.

“I assure you,” he said, scuffing the leather bottom of his shoe on the cold floor of the morgue, “not a whiff. No one will be able to trace this information back to you.”

“Thank you,” she smiled shyly, ducking her head, a lock of copper hair pulling loose from her ponytail to whisp along the delicate line of her jaw. He had to resist the urge to finger it softly back behind the shell of her ear.

Instead he raised the envelope to his temple in a salute, nodded at her and moved toward the door of the autopsy room. He turned back to her when he was within its frame, and she looked up to meet his eye, the glacial blue of her own piercing something deep inside of him.

“It was nice to officially meet you,” he said, and she smiled again.

“Oh, nothing about this was official,” she said, and he huffed a laugh and stepped away, the metal door sucking shut behind him.

2.

He was waiting outside the morgue door when she walked out, paying no attention to her surroundings, her head making a mental list of groceries she needed to pick up on the way home. She was so startled that she had her fist around her pepper spray before she recognized him, holding up a staying hand under the orange soda glow of the street lights, his eyes all apology.

The morgue door had only clicked shut when she heaved a relieved sigh.

"Oh," she said, "it's you." The night was cold and dark around them. It was February; the ugliest time of year in DC.

He smiled at her in the half light and it took her a moment to notice that he was holding out a newspaper toward her in his other hand, the thick stack flopping down as he lifted his arm so that she could read the headline: EVIDENCE SHOWS MASSIVE COVERUP, it read, and she snatched it out of his grip.

"You went to print?!" she asked excitedly. It had been weeks since she’d tipped him off. He nodded.

"Hot off the presses," he said.

She skimmed the article under his byline, reading as fast as she could.

"God, I hope this takes them down," she muttered, still reading, "I hate dirty cops." Her pulse was thrumming.

"It will," he said with confidence, and then shifted a bit on his feet. "Though... it may take your fiancé down with them."

She steeled herself. She'd suspected this was coming since before she'd called Fox Mulder's extension at the Post. So it was true, then. Ethan was in on it. All for a fucking story.

"So be it," she said, and his eyes softened.

"You okay?" he asked. His breath wafted above their heads in a white vapor and something about the softness of his eyes and the wet glint of his generous lower lip made her forget her nerves.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Can I... buy you a drink to celebrate?"

He appeared as surprised as she was by her invitation.

"I know a great place," he said, delighted.

3.

They burst through his door connected at the lips, her hands running over his shoulders to cleave off his suit coat and he stumbled backwards over it as it hit the floor. His blood was singing on a high of lust and gin and the exquisite poetry of her; the Roman cut of her nose, the amber glint of her hair, the way her teeth caught on her s’s.

The slam of the door behind them brought her up short. She pulled back as if surprised to find herself in his apartment, though she'd been the one who'd leaned into his ear at the bar and hissed "take me back to your place," her breath smelling of whiskey and lipstick. She'd been all hands and lips and teeth in the cab.

"You okay?" he asked for the second time that night, out of breath, practically panting, the front of his pants tight.

"I'm--" she started, "I never do this. I'm sorry, I -- I never do this."

"Hey," he said gently, "we don't have to -- I don't expect -- do you want to sit down?"

She nodded, looking shocky, and he led her over to his couch and then slipped into his kitchen, checking every cup and mug in his sparse cabinets until he found one that looked perfectly clean. He pressed the glass into her hands, the ice clicking gently into the sides. He sat on the floor next to the couch to give her space, crossed his legs and tried not to think of his aching cock.

"Ethan is --" she began, "we've been together since high school." She was talking to her lap, half the water chugged before he even sat down. Her blouse was still untucked from when he’d pulled it out of her pants to run a hand over her silk-clad breast in the cab and she was fingering the gold engagement ring on her left hand-- it was an antique-looking thing, something he couldn't see her liking, though he admittedly barely knew her at all.

He nodded at her, wanting to reach a hand out, but opting to rest his arm along the edge of the sofa instead.

"He's cheating on me," she said, a statement. Mulder knew it to be true, but it seemed too self-serving to say anything confirming it, and so he stayed mum. “But we’ve been together so long, and I didn’t want to believe it. And now that I know he’s in on this…” He reached out and touched her knee lightly, and her eyes sharpened. “Tell me something about yourself,” she went on, her voice dropping an octave, “something that no one else knows.”

And so he told her about his sister. About his years-long search for the truth. They talked and talked as she slowly melted into the sofa, her legs stretched out and almost touching him, her head propped up on her elbow.

Finally, she blinked slowly down at him.

“I still feel kind of drunk,” she said, and then yawned.

“Take my bed,” he said, rising to quickly change the sheets. “The bathroom is just over there,” he nodded toward a door. “There’s a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.” He disappeared into the bedroom before she could decline.

She walked through his bedroom doorway on silent feet just as he was shoving the last pillow into a fresh pillowcase. He hugged it to his chest and made his way to the door, smiling at her shyly as he passed. She grabbed his arm gently and he paused, looked down into her sharp starlet eyes. She smelled of toothpaste and faded perfume. Her face had been scrubbed clean.

“Thank you, Mulder,” she said, and let go, her touch practically burning his skin.

4.

She called him three weeks later at work, asked him to meet her for lunch. They sat in the cavernous Les Halles in the District, at a middle table where Mulder kept getting bumped by people making their way to the restroom. The air was filled with the clatter of silverware on plates, a constant murmur of business talk, the expediter calling orders in the kitchen. She wanted to apologize to him.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, before the words were even halfway out of her mouth. “If anyone should apologize, it should be me.”

He reached out a hand and brushed his fingers lightly over the back of her left hand. He noticed her ring finger was bare and stopped short.

“I was in a relationship and — even though I knew it was over, I should have never -- I stuck my tongue down your throat before you finished your second drink,” she said, blushing, but with a smile.

“Say what you will about the former,” he said, reaching for his sweating water glass, “but don’t you dare apologize for the latter.”

She leaned back in her chair and signaled for the waiter. As the man walked away with their orders, Scully leaned forward, her elbows on the table, fingers laced over her plate.

“Detective Cho came to our apartment as Ethan was packing up his things last week,” she said, attempting to keep a cheeky smile from her lips. Mulder’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, though he wasn’t sure which part of her statement surprised him most. “The DA was with her,” she went on, finally cracking a grin.

“You think Ethan will cop a plea?” Mulder asked excitedly, half his brain already on the phone to Skinner, his editor, the other half already writing the story.

“Take out your notebook, and I’ll tell you everything,” she said.

5.

Mulder was on the steps of the courthouse eating a street hot dog when she came clicking down them in her best pumps. She’d been called as a witness in many cases in her life, but never before one in which one of the accused was somebody she had once loved.

She still felt shaky and overdrawn, but just the sight of his sable hair, his strong profile against the sidewalk, settled her nerves.

They hadn’t seen each other in months, but had taken to talking on the phone in the late evening, initially about the story and the case, eventually dropping any pretense and talking just to hear each other’s voice. It had gotten to the point where if she didn’t hear his low timbre each night before bed, she’d have trouble sleeping.

He turned when he sensed her and stood when he saw her, his face blossoming into a pleased smile.

She stopped two steps above him, which made them the same height. His eyes looked mossy in the sun, his lashes long sweeps along his skin.

“The courtroom smells like a Pulitzer,” she said, “I’m surprised you’re not in there.”

He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his overcoat and shrugged.

“And miss a day like this?” he said, the sun glinting off his hair as off a robin’s wing.

“You know, I really thought a sharp wit like you would come in with a line like ‘the real prize is out here,’ but I guess I lobbed the softball a little low,” she teased.

He smiled, shrugged again.

“What can I say?” he said, “I like the high ones.”

He had a smudge of mustard on the edge of his mouth, and she reached out and wiped it slowly off of him with her thumb, the scrape of his five o’clock shadow rasping.

She had a sudden almost-psychic sexual flash of his lush mouth opening wetly over the rise of her mons, of his long, warm hands running slowly up the back of her thigh, could practically feel his low, satisfied moan flushing up her skin.

She blinked away the fantasy but held it in her mind, smiled and reached for his arm, coming down the steps until she was even with him and he turned to walk with her.

“So it’s done then,” he said, finally pulling his hands from the depths of his coat pockets and reaching out until his hand was resting on the small of her back. “Can I buy you a drink to celebrate?”

She smiled into the sunshine and leaned into his touch.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch2: Hey Sailor

Chapter Summary: Mary is excited for her first riding lesson, and it seems that she’s not the only one…

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Again, as you will all know I’m a Brit so apologies if too much British horsey lingo slips into this…ASK away if you don’t understand. Tagging all my SSB/CSI readers…if you want in or off the list PLEASE just tell me. This chapter is a bit of a filler, things start getting a bit more interesting in the next one, and then we’ll be diving into the Gifted story line in Chapter 4.

Thanks to my beta reader/sounding board @icanfeelastormbrewing​ for her input and her modes of transport kink...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

“Mary…” Frank sighed. “Take the boots off and get in bed.” “You told me that Miss Gallagher said I needed to wear them.” she looked at him.

“Yeah, but you can’t wear them in bed…”

Mary flopped onto the side of her bed and reached down to unzip the boots before she kicked them off and Frank picked them up and placed them out of the way. Mary shuffled down under her covers and lay her head back on the pillow and, once she was settled, Frank gently smoothed her blonde hair back off her face and smiled at her. Times like this she really did remind him of Diane.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?” “Can I read for a little while?” she asked.

Frank rolled his eyes “Mary…”

“Please!”

“Fine, fifteen minutes tops. And I’ll be in to turn the light off, ok?” With a grin she sat up and reached for her latest book- Moby Dick, and he dropped a kiss to her head and left her to it. He made his way into the kitchen, cleared the dishes and then grabbed a beer his attention turning to the table which was had clear, the other half scattered with the parts from one of the engines he had been working on. He knew he really shouldn’t bring this home with him but sometimes it was just easier.

His phone buzzed and he reached for it, glancing down at the unknown number.

“Hi Mr Adler, just a courtesy message to remind you of Mary’s lesson tomorrow at One. If you can’t make it please let me know ASAP so I can offer the slot to someone else. Otherwise see you then. Regards, Fliss.” Frank smiled, like he would have chance to forget. Mary had talked of nothing else since Saturday. His fingers hovered over the reply button, before he dropped the phone back down. He didn’t need to reply…did he? I mean…

Oh fuck it. What was a bit of harmless flirting? He picked the phone back up and tapped in a quick response.

“Like I’d have chance to forget. She’s been like a broken record since Wednesday. I had to pry her

boots off tonight as she was threatening to wear them in bed.” Setting the phone down he headed back through to check on Mary, her 15 minutes was over. He found her fast asleep, book clutched to her chest. Gently taking it from her, he slipped the bookmark into the page and turned off the lights, making sure she was tucked in. When he moved back into the main part of the trailer he had a reply.

“Brilliant! That’s what I like to hear. Get used to it, you’re going to hear about nothing but horses now for the rest of your life.” “Great, I can’t wait…” he set his Nokia down, not really having a smarter response to that, so he gathered a few pieces of the engine, setting to work. About five minutes passed and his phone went again.

“You know I offer starter lessons for adults too, maybe you should try it, see if you understand what the fuss is all about.” “No thanks, my feet stay firmly on the ground. Unless I’m on a boat.” “A boat? I didn’t have you pegged as a sailor?” At that Frank let out a bark of a laugh.

“I’m not, not really. I fix them. And besides, you don’t sail speedboats.” “What do you do then?”

“You drive them.”

“Do you drive them on water?” “Dur.” “That’s called Sailing.”

His work abandoned, he took a pull from his beer bottle and shook his head, smile tugging at his lips as he replied.

“But they don’t have sails…” “It’s a boat. It goes on water. It’s called Sailing.” “Alright, I bow to your superior knowledge…” “Glad we agree…even if I do detect a serious underlying tone of sarcasm in your message. See you tomorrow Sailor.” He laughed again, shaking his head. He tapped in a goodnight and placed the phone down, turning his attention to his work.

***** “What are you grinning about?” Bill Gallagher looked at his daughter as they walked across the field, Thor and his own dog, Rupert, hurtling ahead in front of them, their flashing collars keeping them located in the twilight.

“Oh, nothing, just winding someone up.” she smiled “One of the dad’s from tomorrow’s lesson, trying to convince me you drive, not sail, a speedboat.” “Hmmm…well they don’t have sails.” Bill mused.

“Whatever, they go on water, they sail.” Fliss shrugged, slipping her phone back into her pocket as Frank’s ‘Goodnight’ rounded off their conversation.

“So, who is he then?” Bill asked.

“Oh, his name’s Frank.” Fliss replied, nonchalantly, but her dad didn’t miss the flicker of a smile that hit her mouth.

“Is he the one that your mum said was eyeing you up in the bar?” “He was not eyeing me up.” Fliss groaned “He was just being friendly.” “Sure he was.” “Dad.” she warned him, nudging him with her elbow.

“What?” “You know what!” she laughed “Stop it.” “Alright.” he smiled, holding his hands up “I yield, it’s just nice to see you happy, that’s all.” “Well, I am.” she said after a moment, and she meant it “The last six months the riding school has taken off, I’m feeling more, well, myself than I have in years. Just need to find an apartment now.” “Well, on that.” Bill looked at her. “Me and your mum have been thinking. We thought, maybe, you might want to move into the annex. We can do it up, gives you your own space…”

Fliss paused walking and turned to her dad. “That’s where Steeby stays though, when he comes out with Sian and the kids.” “There’s plenty of room in the house.” Bill shrugged “And they come like what, four times a year? It’s stood empty the rest of the time.” Fliss bit her lip.

“It’s just an idea and your brother won’t mind. Look, I know it’s probably not what you had in mind, living in your parent’s annex but for the time being until the Yard starts to turn over more of a profit we just thought it might give you a little bit more freedom.” “Whilst still staying close.”

“I want to keep you safe Titch.” Bill shrugged “I didn’t do that before but,” “Dad don’t.” Fliss shook her head “None of that, it wasn’t your fault. I hid from everyone what was happening…you didn’t know.”

“I should have.” he sighed “You’re my daughter.” “He had everyone fooled, including me. This is no one’s fault but his, I get that now.” Bill smiled and pulled her into a hug. “I know.”

“We should head back.” Fliss smiled, pulling away. “Mum will be wondering where we are.”

“You have anything to finish off?” he asked

“Nope, everything is out for the night and looks reasonably settled.” she squinted at the various horses dotted across her land.

“Hmmm, unlike this fencing.” Bill frowned, examining the broken bit of post and rail that Fliss had patched up with electric tape “This could do with replacing, love.” “Yeah, I know.” she shrugged “I was going to mention it but forgot. The temporary fix has worked for the time being.” “I’ll stop by and do it tomorrow.” he nodded, “Won’t take me long. I’ll level that top field as well whilst I’m at it if you want.” “Thanks Dad” she smiled. In comfortable silence they made their way back towards the main part of the yard. *******

Fliss grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge in her office and took a long drink. The heat was pretty intense today, and she was just wondering if really holding Mary’s lesson as advisable when she realised it wasn’t like they’d be doing anything too strenuous. She adjusted her baseball cap and walked back onto the yard, shouting instructions to the three members of staff to go and take a water break. Just as they were passing her towards the office, she saw Frank and Mary walking onto the yard. Mary was sporting a new riding hat and Fliss couldn’t help but smile.

“Well check you out!” she said, tapping the little girl on the head “Nice hat.” “I liked the silver on it!” Mary grinned, pointing to the sparkly strip that ran along the front.

“Me too.” Fliss nodded. “I have the same hat but mine has blue sparkles.” she straightened up and looked at Frank. “Hey Sailor.” He gave a snort of a laugh “I told you, you don’t sail speedboats.” “They go on water.” Mary said, “Its’ sailing.” “Ha, see!” Fliss laughed

Frank sighed “Whatever.” The corners of his mouth turned up and he handed Fliss the forms he had brought back.

“Oh great…” she thanked him “I’ll just file these and then Ruby will get Monty ready. I thought you might like to help her.” Mary nodded eagerly. Fliss excused herself and Frank heard her shouting something and a moment later a tall, wirey Hispanic girl emerged from the office with a saddle. Fliss followed, bridle slung over her shoulder and gestured for Mary to follow. Frank watched as the girl skipped off following and headed after her at a slower pace, rubbing at his neck which felt like it was burning. He’d slathered Mary in sunscreen before but of course had forgotten his own.

He stepped into the relative cool of the barn and watched as the stable hand was explaining to Mary what each piece of tack was as she began to place it onto the pony. He knew Mary would be taking all of this in, just like she did with everything, and Roberta would be hearing all about it later on.

Fliss handed over the bridle and stepped back, heading towards Frank. “I normally do have the ponies ready” she said, almost apologetically “But I thought she’d enjoy this bit.” “You thought right.” Frank laughed “I was just thinking to myself she’ll be chewing our neighbour’s ear off later.”

Fliss smiled and they both stood in silence watching until the other girl said they were ready.

“Alright, let’s go!” Fliss grinned and they walked out into the yard. She took the pony from her staff member with a thanks, and walked with Mary following into the riding paddock. Frank leaned on the fencing outside as Fliss led Mary and Monty over to the wooden mounting block at the side.

“Ok, so…” she turned to Mary and patted the top step “Climb up here…” Mary hopped up.

“Left foot in this stirrup,” she instructed. Mary placed her foot in. “Left hand here,” she guided it to the front of the saddle, “and then I want you to swing your right leg over.” Mary did as she was told, sitting down on the saddle.

“Good stuff kiddo!” Fliss smiled as she checked the stirrups “Ok, so we need to put these up a hole so…”

She busied herself shortening the stirrup leathers, and eventually when she was happy she nodded.

“So, what we’re gonna do for today is a bit of walking around, and stopping, and then if you’re happy with your balance we can try a bit of trot ok?” Mary grinned.

“Right…so take your reins…” Fliss showed her how to hold the reins correctly, and then she slipped the lunge line through the ponies bit and looked at the girl. “If you feel wobbly or anything you grab this…” she said, gesturing to the leather strap around the pony’s neck. “And shout to me ok?”

Mary nodded.

Fliss began to walk besides the pony who followed her like a dog. Mary all the time concentrating on what she was doing. Fliss explained to her how her legs made the animal go, and how to make it stop, and they practiced that for five minutes before Fliss moved slightly further away to let Mary take a bit of control, instructing her to go, then stop, go, then stop…

Frank watched intently. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly nervous about Mary falling off but he knew that he had to let her discover all this for herself. He leaned further over on the fence, watching and couldn’t help but smile at the look on Mary’s face, she was concentrating so hard her brow was furrowed, tongue poking out from the side of her mouth.

“Your kid?” a deep voice with a similar accent to Fliss said and he turned to his right to see a tall, stocky guy in his sixties, maybe, dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans looking at him.

“Neice.” he nodded, “First lesson.” “Ahh...” the man chuckled “Yeah I remember Fliss’ first lesson. I crapped myself.” Frank let out a laugh “Yeah, I’m a little nervous.” “Bill Gallagher” The man stuck his hand out “Fliss’ dad.” “Nice to meet you, I’m Frank.” Bill looked at him, nodding before his attention turned to the paddock “Hey, Titch, sorry to interrupt…” Fliss stopped the pony and turned to her dad “Hey.” “Fencing is done but I can’t get that bloody tractor started, so the field’s gonna have to wait.” “I can look at it.” Frank offered immediately “I mean, if you want.” Bill turned to him, “You a mechanic?” “No he’s a sailor.” Fliss shot back and Frank rolled his eyes.

“I fix boats. Engines, that type of thing.” “Huh.” Bill nodded appraisingly. “Well if you wouldn’t mind…” “Not a problem. Mary you okay here if I go for a minute?” Mary looked at him “Dur.” Bill let out a chuckle as Frank turned to him “Tell me raising them gets easier.” “Oh no mate.” Bill shook his head, grinning “You just get different shit to deal with.” Frank followed the man round to the back of the barn and spotted a dark green baby tractor. Bill explained what it was doing and Frank crouched closer to have a look before he headed to his truck for the jump leads.

After ten minutes or so he’d found the problem. They could start it, but it wasn’t holding any charge. Meaning when the turned the engine off it needed jump starting again.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the alternator.” he chewed his lip, stepping back “I’ll need to strip it down to see whether I can repair it or if it needs a new one but we can get it started again you can do what you need to do for today.”

Bill nodded “So not quite ready for the scrap heap?” “Not quite.” Frank smiled, wiping his hands on his jeans “Just needs a bit of a fiddle with.” “Don’t we all?” Bill quipped, making Frank laugh. They jump started it again and Bill thanked him before hopping on and heading over to the gate that led to the field.

By the time Frank returned, he was surprised to see that Mary was now riding the pony almost unaided in a circle around Fliss who was holding the end of the line attached to the Monty’s bridle as it trotted around. Mary was gripping the strap round the pony’s neck and trying to rise in time to the trot. It was clumsy and she was a little bit out of balance but that didn’t matter. He could hear Fliss shouting gentle encouragement to her, counting out the rhythm and eventually Mary fell in time with her counts.

“Good!” Fliss beamed “see, I told you you’d get it…” This continued for another 5 minutes or so before Fliss told Mary to slow Monty down to a walk and give him a good pat. They walked the pony around for a while, to give him chance to cool down a little before Fliss walked towards Mary gathering up the line as she went.

“That was awesome for a first go!” she said, smiling “Did you enjoy it?”

Mary nodded “Yeah, it was really cool!”

“Good!” Fliss said. “Now I’m gonna unclip the line and walk around for a bit. He’ll follow me but when I stop I want you to stop him yeah?”

Mary nodded eagerly and she unclipped the line and began to walk. Fliss knew Monty would stop when she did but she wanted to let Mary have a go anyway. They did a lap of the paddock and on the second she stopped by Frank.

“Look, Frank!” Mary smiled “I’m not on the line.” “Yeah, I see!” he smiled at her “Good job!”

“How’s my tractor?” Fliss asked.

“Think it’s the alternator. We got it started for your dad but I’ll need to strip it down properly…I can come back tomorrow and sort it properly if you want?” “Oh, I don’t wanna put you out.” Fliss started to protest but Frank shook his head

“It’s no bother, honestly.” he ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t promise I can fix it but I’ll be able to see if I can or if you need a new one.” Fliss looked at him and then nodded “Alright, but in that case today is free.” “No, that’s not why I offered.” Frank began to protest but Fliss shook her head

“I know.” she smiled that damned gorgeous smile again, and Frank felt his stomach flip. “But I’d like to.” Frank looked at her for a moment, her brown eyes locked onto his and he swallowed, nodding. “Ok, thanks.” “Wait am I coming back tomorrow?” Mary asked

“I’m booked up, sorry sweetie.” Fliss looked at her “But you’re welcome to come anyway, that is if Frank says its okay. You can always give Monty a groom.” “We’ll see. “Frank looked at Mary.

“I can put her to work.” Fliss said, grinning “Nothing like a bit of child labour.” “That’s illegal.” Mary said.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Fliss looked at her and Frank gave a chuckle.

They made their way out of the paddock and Fliss showed Mary how to swing her leg back round the saddle and slide down. She landed on her feet and took the reins from Fliss’ hand, leading the pony back to his stable. She helped untack and then Fliss handed her the bridle to carry. They walked into the office and Fliss tapped a code into the door to the left and led them into a tidy tack room, rows of saddles and racks adorned the wall along with bridle pegs and a few shelves full of rugs and blankets for the horses. Fliss slipped the saddle onto a spare rack and then directed Mary to Monty’s bridle peg. Frank took the bridle from her as the peg was a little high and hooked it over.

“Now, you need a drink.” Fliss looked at Mary “I got water or some apple juice.”

 “Apple please.”  Mary said. Fliss nodded and headed back into the office, giving her a juice box from the fridge “Frank?”

“Oh, errr, water would be great thanks.” She handed him a bottle and he screwed off the tap.

“So, do you want to book in again now or do it tomorrow?” Fliss looked at him. “I think she’ll cope on the group lesson fine.” “So when do they run?”  Frank asked, swallowing his water.

“Saturday afternoons at two.” Fliss said. “Or Wednesday at six.” “Can we come Saturday?” Mary asked.

Frank hesitated “I did say you couldn’t do this every week.” “Yeah but you didn’t pay for today.” Mary shot back.

Jesus Christ

He glanced up at Fliss who was biting her lip, trying not to laugh.

“Fine, you can come this Saturday but then that’s it, we go to every other week like we agreed, okay?” Mary nodded.

“Settled, I’ll book you in.” Fliss grinned. “If you get here about quarter to I’ll introduce you to the other girls before you join.” Mary frowned a little, before she recovered and nodded. “Okay.” “So do you like work here every day?” Frank asked and Fliss nodded

“Mostly. If I want a day off then I get Joanne to cover the lessons and the girls can open and close up.” she said “But it’s few and far between. Like I said, still in the early days so…”

Frank nodded “Yeah I know what it’s like, trying to get yourself established.” “I take it you’re a self-employed sailor then?” Fliss smiled and he gave a grin back and nodded.

“He takes me for rides.” Mary said “In the boats sometimes.” “That’s really cool. I’ve never been on speedboat.” Fliss mused.

“You should come with us one day, right Frank?”

Frank hesitated a little, surprised to find that he wasn’t filled with dread at the idea of her joining them.

“I’m sure Fliss has enough to be doing without you demanding more of her time.” he shot the girl a look, his tone even.

“Yeah, I’m very busy.” Fliss smiled, offering him a way out. He shot her a thankful look.

“We can do it when you’re free…” “Mary!” Frank’s tone was exasperated as Fliss laughed.

“Maybe one day.” she said, nodding.

This placated the girl somewhat and she bounced off towards the truck.

“Sorry.” Frank turned to Fliss “She can be a little bit…” “Tenacious?” “I was gonna say a pain in the ass.” Frank shrugged, causing Fliss to laugh, her soft chuckles made him feel a little warm, or maybe it was the afternoon heat…

“She’s a good kid.” Fliss said gently.

Frank smiled and then jerked his head in the direction of the car park “I better…” “Sure.”

“I’ll drop you a message about tomorrow?” Fliss nodded “Yeah, but don’t put yourself out.” “Well I owe you now for the lesson so…” he shrugged “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Yeah, guess you will.” Fliss smiled. There was a pause again and Frank nodded, before he turned and headed after Mary. He turned to look over his shoulder at Fliss who was now walking back towards her office before he wandered onto the car park to find Mary was now chewing Bill’s ear off.

“For the love of God.” he mumbled as he drew nearer to find her mid discussion with the man about the Olympics.

“Did you go?” she was asking.

“You bet!” Bill smiled “I’ll tell you something else as well…” “What?” “Those fences are even bigger in real life than they look on the photos.” “It said on the internet she jumped One meter forty!”

“The internet?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, we googled her.” Frank groaned “Mary.” “What?” she looked at him. “I was just saying…” “Well don’t.” He said, “Truck, now…”

“It was nice to meet you Mary.” Bill smiled as the little girl bid him goodbye.

“Sorry.” Frank apologised to him.

“Don’t be silly.” Bill waved his apology off. “She wasn’t doing any harm.”

“I meant about the google thing.” Frank sighed. “We weren’t prying, she was just curious after seeing the medal and…” Bill shook his head “Kids are nosey.” he shrugged.

With another nod he climbed in the truck and turned to Mary with a sigh “What did I say to you about not telling Miss Gallagher we googled her?” “I didn’t.” Mary said “I told her dad.”

There was a pause as Frank contemplated what she had said, and realised technically she was right. He should have closed that particular loop hole. “Smart ass.” He grumbled back, before he clipped in her belt and they left.

***** Fliss was surprised to see Mary wasn’t with Frank the next day. Frank explained he had come straight from the boat yard so she was busy doing some lesson work with their neighbour. “Gives me chance to work without her continually running around causing a nuisance.” he had explained, setting his tools down by the tractor.

Fliss chuckled, “Ok, well, I got another client due in a second so just give me a shout if you need anything.” He nodded. It didn’t take him long to realise he had been right. It was the alternator. He took the engine apart and was leaning over it on the flat bed of his truck when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to look at Fliss.

“It is the alternator, but it looks like it’s the brushes inside.” he said, “I can fix this.” She nodded, the movement almost imperceptible, and he frowned at the look on her face. She’d glazed over in front of him, eyes were widened, almost like she was stuck in a memory.

And she was. Something about the fact he’d been leaning over the back of a truck, his grubby t-shirt riding up slightly, dirt on his hands and arms had stirred a really inappropriate thought in her head…which in turn had triggered another flashback.

“He was fixing the car.” Fliss looked at John “I offered him a drink, that’s all…” “He was in our kitchen.” John advanced “I saw you looking at him. Admiring him…” “I wasn’t…”

“Don’t LIE TO ME!” John’s voice as loud and then there was a stinging slap to the side of her face, which sent her reeling. As she recovered, the ringing in her ear still loud from the blow, she gently reached up to her cheek, tears stinging her eyes. John’s face was immediately apologetic, and he reached out for her, causing her to shrink back against the counter.

“You hit me.” she gasped.

“Sugar, I’m so sorry.” John stuttered, his eyes filing with tears “I didn’t, you just made me so jealous…I…” He held his arms out and pulled her to him, his hands on her back as he dropped a kiss to her head “I will never do that again, I’m sorry…” “Fliss?”

She started slightly and looked at Frank. “Yeah, sorry, I was…” “Miles away?” he frowned.

“Something like that.” she nodded, shaking her head “Sorry, you said you could fix it?”

“Yeah.” he said “I can take it with me and then I can bring it back Saturday unless you need it before that?”

“No, Saturday’s fine.” she said gently.

“Look, I don’t mean to pry but are you sure you’re ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m good.” she spoke quickly. “Look, I gotta get on and…” “Sure.” he nodded, “I should be going anyway…” She smiled at him, and turned and headed back to the yard.

****

“You clearly triggered something.” Roberta said to Frank wisely as they both sat in his living room later that evening. He’d just finished telling her about the afternoon. “Some kind of memory.”

Frank hmmed his response. “Question is why are you so bothered?” Roberta asked.

“I’m not, I just, well it wasn’t nice to see. She looked so scared.” “Well you said her husband was sent down for assaulting her.” Roberta shrugged “She’s clearly had a lot of trauma. Maybe she just needs a friend.” “Yeah, maybe.”

“Could be good for both of you.” “I know what you’re doing.” Frank looked at her sternly

“I’m not trying to do anything!” Roberta chuckled

“Course you’re not.” he rolled his eyes before he changed the subject.

It wasn’t until he was alone later, that he pulled his phone out to text Fliss. He’d typed out his message, just a perfectly innocent one to check she was okay before he deleted it, shaking his head.

Whatever it was, it really was none of his business. He had enough of his own past demons to live with as it was.

But the more he lay there the more it wound him up. And he couldn’t get the thought of her out of his head.

“Fucks sake,” he grumbled, before he retyped the message and sent it.

**** Fliss was curled up on the sofa watching TV. Her parents were out for the evening so she was making the most of enjoying the space. Her phone went and she leaned over to grab it from the coffee table, unable to stop smiling as she saw who it was from.

“Hey, just wanted to check you were ok after before. I hope I didn’t do anything or say anything that upset or scared you.” The last line made her heart sink. He clearly knew about her past. Her dad had mentioned something about them googling her, and the case had been fairly big news amongst the equestrian circuit so she knew that the story was out there to read. Well, most of it was anyway. She rubbed at her eyes, thinking of how to respond. She hated that even after almost a year of him being out of her life John was till effectively a shadow she couldn’t seem to emerge from.

“It’s not your fault. I get flashbacks sometimes, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well the past has a way of doing that. Trust me, I know.”

Fliss smiled gently as she tapped out her response. “Yeah, what is it Rafiki says on the Lion King? You can either run from your past or learn from it?”

Little over thirty seconds later he responded.

“Sound advice from a cartoon monkey…not always that easy in real life. If you ever want a non-judgmental ear to talk to, I’m a pretty good listener if you fancy a beer and a chat. Just as friends.” There was just something about this man, something that Fliss couldn’t help but warm to. She wasn’t stupid, the girls at the yard had told her a bit about him, his reputation amongst the ladies…he was a bit of a player from all accounts, but there was something there, something buried deeper, she could just tell. And what’s more, for the first time in years, she felt like she could trust another person other than her family.

It was for that reason she found it so easy to almost, sort of, maybe, possibly accept his invitation.

“I might just hold you to that Sailor.”

**** Chapter 3

[platypus-mcslothman]

‘Well, at least we’re not America’ is a common phrase said by most people when political/racism issues or crises occur in UK. A phrase I am coming to discover is telling of how well the propaganda machines in our country work. The UK is wayyy more dysfunctional than America and allow me to detail but the surface level of known issues in our political sphere.

1. U.K. media ecosystem is… corrupt. Seriously, the older I get the more realise how not too dissimilar our media is to North Korea’s, except our media doesn’t work for the state primarily and will turn on it if it benefits them. You can look at how our media recently attacked Boris Johnson and then started pushing out puff pieces when he won a landslide in our local election for perfect proof

We’ve had phone hacking scandals, invasions of privacy, been accused of Nazi like language by the UN, have a state owned media outlet with political leaders heading it, anti-vaccine and now anti-lockdown narratives being pushed forward, think tanks owned by prominent right wing politicians and advisors being treated as unbiased think tanks, and more.

Our media landscape is predominately owned by 5 people. Rupert Murdoch (owner of Fox News) being one of the most prominent and also the closest to government.

The media in the UK is basically an attack dog for politics. It’s often been said no government will ever get into power without Rupert Murdoch on side.

It gets significantly worse when you begin to discover many prominent journalists are friends, god parents, spouses, and family members to our political elite. Heck, Boris Johnson (our Prime Minister) was originally a journalist for the spectator and telegraph (and an appalling one at that).

2. our police are well… corrupt. They’ve been involved in murdering civilians, brutally killing protestors and lying about killing them, feeding lies to the press about officers being hurt by protestors, assaulting journalists, and are involved in numerous conspiracies, and coincidentally were the only public service that didn’t receive defunding during and after thatcher’s era.

The most recent conspiracy involves the media too. A private detective called Daniel Morgan was suspect to have been murdered by two police officers with axes, who were originally investigating the crime, after he started investigating corruption in the police force. This case happened in the 90s and is now resurging after renewed interest. Strangely enough, the case Morgan was investigating later became known as the Phone Hacking scandal in the early 2000s.

Essentially the phone hacking scandal was the reveal that newspapers were hacking phones, wiretapping houses, and paying or blackmailing police officers to give them information about criminal cases. During this scandal it was also revealed newspapers were hiring PIs. More specifically the firm that Morgan worked for and even more specifically the suspected murderers who were fired from the police forces and were hired by Morgan’s old PI firm. You couldn’t make this up.

3. this is gonna be a running theme, but our politicians… corrupt. In a slew of scandals over decades, our politicians have been revealed to spend their work expenses on personal expenses (one politician bought a draw bridge for their manor, and many used them to buy second homes in London before selling them off at a profit during a housing crises), they accept other ‘jobs’ for private businesses (essentially a politician is payed thousands for a couple hours in an ‘advisory’ position), they’ve used tax havens (David Cameron, one of our prior PMs, is the most prominent example), they’ve lobbied after leaving their post (essentially they’re paid a lot of money to push for legislation changes that will profit a company which is quite easy to do when you have political connections, yet again David Cameron is a prominent example), and in the most recent disgusting display I present to you: the ‘my little crony’ model. A model that visually shows you the corruption in our pandemic expenditure.

https://www.sophie-e-hill.com/post/my-little-crony/

During the pandemic, our government bypassed competition laws to directly award contracts for PPE (Personal Protective Equipment), and test and trace. 25% of these contracts at minimum have since been deemed as questionable. They were awarded to businesses owned by politicians, politician’s family members, neighbours, friends, and political donors. Dyson was even revealed to have directly messaged Boris Johnson to change how taxes work so he could provide profitable ventilators when we were desperately short (which is worse when you consider Dyson didn’t deliver a single ventilator despite these changes). That’s not even an isolated story. There is a backlog of stories of strange and not suited businesses not providing PPE, not providing useable PPE, and being payed to make PPE at inflated costs. We’ve had sweet wrapper makers, jewellers, pubs, and a finance company that was only set up weeks before the contract being given these essential jobs in making and delivering PPE. The amount of money spent on these contracts is not yet fully known because documentation hasn’t been published fully, which is unlawful according to our Supreme Court’s findings.

In the pandemic we spent 37 billion on our test and trace app. The app was a failure and still is. It doesn’t contact people, a lot of data was lost because they were using an outdated Excel program to store data (which it didn’t store because Excel is not designed for that amount of data and severely outdated), and a lot people haven’t downloaded it because of trust issues caused by poor communication and initially designing the app to store data in a centralised location instead of in a means where the data can’t be accessed at a later date (as almost every other country did for trust reasons).

Now, 37 billion pounds is a very abstract number. Many don’t fully understand how much money that really is. Well, it could nationalise our entire electric grid in the UK. It’s 10% of the amount needed to end world hunger. It could end our housing crisis in the UK. and it was spent on an app that doesn’t work! Not to mention, the leader of test and trace is now being rumoured to be appointed the head of our national health service…

Heck, our PM was paid by one of his political donors to refurbish his temporary flat in Number 10 (our version of the White House). He spent £200,000 whilst he claimed our entire country didn’t have enough money to feed poor children during the pandemic. And even after he lost two fights with a footballer over the issue (yes, you heard that right), our government contracted a private company that provided inadequate amounts of weekly food. Below isn’t even the worst example.

(Note this a contrast between the amount you could actually buy with money allocated by the government and the amount given by the private companies hired by the government. They took may as well have literally have took candy from a baby.)

Summary: the U.K. is worse than the US exactly because the people of our nation and kingdom don’t see the ridiculousness and corruption that takes place daily and historically.

We’ve had governments spying on trade unions and activists, we’ve had kids being brutalised by police officers because they attended or were thought to have attended a protest, we have a bill that now is trying to ban protest, we have a media ecosystem so disgustingly inadequate they don’t hold government to account, and we have politicians who claim they could live off minuscule amounts provided by the state to the poor and disabled whilst gourging on state paid meals at fancy restaurants where they spend more than that minuscule amount in a couple hours.

There’s so much wrong with my nation and kingdom, I honestly don’t have enough words nor the ability to accurately articulate how disgustingly corrupt it is. We are not the United Kingdom, we are the Corrupt Kingdom. I could go on and fucking on about how unjust, untruthful, and immoral my nation is. I don’t like that, but I also am not going to be patriotic about a nation that kills the poor and disabled by not providing support, allowing a virus to ravage our society by not putting the needs many before the needs of the few, and who claims we can’t spend money on society whilst spending lucrative amounts on idiotic selfish things.

Further reading/references:

(this is my blog, I haven’t posted here in a while)