#relief voucher

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Petition By 600 To Ask Abolition Of Relief Store," Saskatoon Star-Phoenix. April 30, 1934. Page 3. --- SPONSORED BY WEST SIDE ASSOCIATION AND LARGELY SIGNED BY BUSINESS MEN, WILL BE PRESENTED TO COUNCIL TONIGHT ---- Requesting immediate abolition of the City Relief Store, establishment of an open voucher system, and appointment of a fair price committee, a petition largely signed by Saskatoon business men will be placed before City Council in committee at a special session tonight to consider various questions relative to unemployment relief. The petition sponsored by the West Side Businessmen's Association would by tonight bear approximately 600 signatures, A. W. Wylie, a West Side merchant, stated today.

Signed by some 1.600 unemployed, the Central Council of Unemployed also has a petition before council asking for the abolition of the store and a return to the open voucher system. In addition, the unemployed asked for a 50 per cent increase in the relief allowance and an open voucher for clothing required.

PUBLIC BARRED FROM SESSION "Practically every Saskatoon business man approached signed the petition," Mr. Wylie declared today emphasizing that all classes of business were represented by the signatures on the petition.

Mr. Wylie has been a prime mover in previous appeals for the abolition of the relief store, his contention being that all relief commodities should be issued through the regular retail channels of trade.

The open voucher requested in the petition would apply to all commodities required by the unemployed, Mr. Wylie explained.

For over two years Saskatoon unemployed have been issued groceries through the relief store, and coal was purchased by tender, one firm supplying all needs during the past winter. Prior to the establishment of a relief store here, an open voucher was in force. The vouchers could be taken to a retail store. and within certain limits the recipient could purchase any goods desired up to the value of the voucher.

MOTION ON AGENDA Since tonight's meeting will be held behind closed doors, representatives of the West Side Businessmen's Association will not be permitted to appear to speak to the petition which will likely be submitted to M. C. Tomlinson, city clerk some time prior to the meeting.

Moved by Alderman Charles Nash, a motion providing for the abolition of the relief store was placed before council soon after the civic elections last November. The motion is still on the agenda and would in any event be acted upon within the course of the next few weeks.

Not only will the fate of the relief store be discussed at tonight's meeting but the council will also discuss the question of appointing a new relief board when the present board goes out of office June 4. Steps may also be taken toward framing a new relief bylaw to replace the bylaw now in force and under which the existing relief board was appointed about two years ago.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Anniversary To Remember

RP / story written with @tbgblr2 Thanks for taking on the challenge of this idea and my attempt to find an inconvenient birth location that hadn’t been written before. (9.5k words)

“Wha… NO!” you snapped as you looked at the sign in front of us.

“Please?” I asked, with my best doe eyed expression. “I booked it specially for us last year… I know things have changed, but it's perfectly safe.”

“I’ll fall through.” You groan, admittedly giggling at the thought.

“No you won't, they’re not like the old days with wicker baskets, they’re proper, metal structures designed to hold 10 times our combined weight.” I retorted.

It was our second wedding anniversary today. When we discussed it last year, the day after our one year anniversary, it sounded like a great way to celebrate our second. We were going on a hot air balloon ride over the city into the countryside and staying for a romantic meal together with a night in a log cabin to follow.

Only our desires got the better of us, and here we were looking at the sign for the balloon place with you holding your hands under your blossoming belly – 9 months of it.

You had forgotten all about it with all the baby commotion, but when I pulled up to the venue near the airport, it all came flooding back.

“The doctor said you weren’t due for another week, and this will be the last chance we can do something crazy like this before the baby comes. It makes lots of sense to do it now and cross it off our bucket list… plus I can’t get a refund.” I tried to reason with logic.

You shook your head. “I think my belly is almost the size of that balloon the way I feel.” Despite your protest you’re clearly thinking about it and, warming up to the idea, you eventually smile at me.

“That’s my girl” I grin “Don’t worry, it’s only 3 hours”

~•~

I roll my eyes but my lips pull into a smile. “Okay, let’s do it. Here’s hoping we can both fit in there.” I joke, rubbing the swell of my heavy stomach.

Leaving the house was the last thing I wanted to do today, and taking a romantic hot air balloon ride? Complete madness. But you were just so excited, this was something you’d always wanted to do for as long as I’d known you. And those doe eyes, I really couldn’t say no.

As we stood and waited for the stewards to set up the balloons, I grimaced at the twinge flaring in my back.

“Oof-” I huff out, and attempt to hold up my bump that’s weighing heavy on my hips and cramping my spine.

“Baby kicking you in the ribs again?” You ask, noticing my expression.

“No… it’s just really heavy. Hoooo- I’ll be glad when this pregnancy is over.”

“Not long left to go sweetie. Here, let me try something.” You stand behind me, arms snaking my waist, and you lift up the large bump containing our baby. My head falls back against you with relief. “That feels wonderful.” I murmur, enjoying the momentary feeling.

After a couple of minutes of respite, you gently let go and the weight returns to my pelvis and I groan softly.

“Are you sure this is safe?” I ask, taking another deep breath, rubbing my belly subconsciously. “I’m not sure I’m up for this…”

~•~

“It’s the safest thing in the world” came the voice across the way. One of the representatives of the balloon company came striding up and shook my hand. “How can I help?”

I picked up my phone and scrolled through to our online voucher. “I’m here for our booking?” I asked, showing the details to the man who approached.

“Ahh!” came the reply. “You’re here to fly. Got your transport right over here. Flying it myself today. Names Jimmy. I couldn’t help but overhear the discussion earlier, let me tell you, kids are the best thing in the world, and once you’re up in the air, you’re going to have stories to tell them to get them to sleep for years to come. Just checking…” he sounded slightly unsure “are you safe to fly in your condition?”

“I have the medical certificate here, got it last week.” I announced. Jimmy looked it over.

“Good all seems to be in order, if you’ll follow me… our chariot awaits!” Jimmy was enthusiastic, I’ll certainly give him that.

~•~

I was glad when Jimmy directed us further across the field, I needed the opportunity to walk off the cramp rippling my stomach. The braxton hicks had been happening on and off today, which wasn’t particularly unusual, but I didn’t want to tell you as I knew you’d only worry. I didn’t want to ruin this once in a lifetime experience for you.

My eyes widened when I saw the basket we’d be riding in; it was huge and a lot taller than I anticipated. It was higher than my waist.

“Erm… how am I going to get in that?” I ask uncertainly.

Jimmy produced a stepping stool, presumably he was used to getting people in and out the large basket but perhaps never someone quite this pregnant before.

~•~

It took a few false starts, with you stepping on, trying to get your leg over the top, giving up, repositioning, trying again and again, but eventually you were able to use my shoulder as support as I lifted you up over the edge of the basket. “Maybe I should have gotten in first and lifted you over?” I suggested, as I scrambled in behind you.

You huffed out a breath as you smiled “I am in no condition to be lifted thank you!”

It was quite roomy all things considered. There was a small cabin to one side where the pilot could sit and do his thing without directly interfering with us. I looked over and saw the laptop computer affixed to a small tray against the wall.

Our area was open sided, exposed to the elements, but thankfully it was a nice day and aside from higher winds when we got up to a decent height, we were expecting clear views and plenty of lasting memories.

We cuddled together as Jimmy announced he was lighting the burners – the whoosh of the gas and the heat of the flames announced we were getting ready to go. I hugged you from behind and as there was a quick lurch from the balloon lifting off the ground I felt your usually soft belly harden under my fingers. “What was that?” I whispered to you.

~•~

“What was what?” I reply casually, keeping my eyes forward at the ground that was slowly disappearing beneath us.

You say my name with a hint of a scolding, knowing I knew exactly what you were referring to. My belly was still contracting under your fingers and I could see in your eyes that you could feel it too.

“It’s nothing, just another braxton hicks that’s all. Don’t worry. Look at this amazing view” I try to distract you “we’re already so high.”

~•~

I calm a little as I feel the tension ease around your middle. Taking your hand in mine we walked over to the edge of the basket. We spend a good 5 minutes with the wind ruffling our hair as we stare out over the city. “There's our house!” I excitedly point out into the distance. “There’s your parent’s place. Oh and mine.” I’m lost in the giddy enjoyment of this, holding your hand tight and don’t notice your grip tightening and tightening more on mine as the next contraction starts to grip your middle.

“If we need to get down, how do we do that?” you asked Jimmy.

“Sorry, nothing much we can do now until we’re outside the city. Nowhere clear to land. Figure we need about 2 hours minimum with this wind speed. Afraid we can’t just turn these things around and head home.” He was smiling but didn’t even look up at you as he responded, he was too focused on twisting the knobs on the gas bottles to get the mixture right and tapping his route onto the laptop to let air traffic control know where we were heading.

I turn back around and grasp you around the waist – your bump pressed in tight against me as I cuddle you close to me. I don’t notice the strained tension that had gripped it a few moments before. Kissing you I whisper “Happy anniversary. Here’s to lots of years and lots of babies!”

~•~

“Lots of babies eh? Let’s see how we get on with this one first before you start planning for a whole football team.” I shift my hips subtly side to side, trying to not think about just how low the baby felt in my pelvis.

“You were right; it is really magical up here. You can see the whole city.” I say wandering as much as I can in the small space, needing to move, looking out at every angle towards the horizon. The sun was shining brightly illuminating the tiny buildings below, clouds littered the perfectly blue sky, but it was the silence that made the experience otherworldly. It was so quiet up here. Just the sounds of the breeze and the occasional whoosh of the gas canisters keeping our balloon in the air.

I ended up leaning against the adjacent wall of the basket to you, each of us looking out at the impressive scenery, but I’m pulled out of the experience but a forceful contraction squeezing and tightening my belly. My breath hitches, pain pressing more urgently now through my body. I try to steady my breathing, long deep breathes through the pain, that’s what they say don’t they? My fingers grip the padded railing and my head dips slightly. Stay calm, just breathe, I tell myself. This might not be labour.

~•~

You suddenly feel my hand rubbing your back. “You ok?” I ask, concern in my voice looking at your white knuckles gripping the side. Your eyes dart between my face and what I’m looking at, suddenly releasing your grip.

“Yeah, fine. Just baby’s really low. Probably just the change in gravity because we’re so high.”

I caught my laugh, sniggering through my lips. “No, you’re just very, very pregnant.” My hands grip either side of your hips and press, the moan escaping your lips echoed out across the wide open air.

I lean in close and whisper so only you can hear “Just breathe through it, we’ll be on the ground in a couple of hours.”

~•~

“You know?” I whisper my reply, turning my head slightly to find you nodding, a grin twitching your lips. “Damn, I thought I’d been more- hooo-subtle.”

Slowly, I turn around to face you, holding on to your biceps as I find myself needing both the physical and emotional support.

“Ooohhhh- why now?” I quietly moan against your chest.

“Shhhhhh it’s okay.” You whisper into my hair, rubbing my back before pressing deep into my hips again. “How long do you think you’ve been in labour for?” You ask.

“Mmmm- I’m not sure. My body’s always aching and cramping these days, I- I didn’t think anything of it….” I reply softly, my breath hitching again with another contraction. My heavy rounded belly is squashed between us and I’m almost certain you’d be able to feel it through your shirt, tensing and contracting against your stomach.

~•~

The next contraction builds without warning as you grab hold of me tight, your fingers digging into my shoulders as you press your forehead into my chest, desperately resisting the urge to scream, knowing it would likely cause chaos with our pilot. My hands grip into the small of your back and you press back into them, you’re suddenly bent at the waist, your feet spread, hips swaying side to side as you groan quietly into me.

My forehead rests against you and to the outside world - or specifically Jimmy at this moment - it just looks like we’re embracing and enjoying the moment.

Suddenly there’s a splash between your legs and you find your dress is sticking to your legs. You go wide eyed. There’s no mistaking it now…

~•~

“Oh my god…” my voice is barely a whisper as I stare up at you in shock. Your expression mirrors my own.

“Erm… is everything alright guys?” Jimmy asks in an upbeat tone that feels alien to the both of us right now.

“Not really no…” I say to our bewildered pilot, before turning back to you. “Honey, I think I need to sit down.”

Your hand is around my waist as you walk me over to the small cushioned bench sitting one end of the hot air balloon basket, you steady me as I awkwardly lower myself down.

“Are you okay here for a minute while I update our pilot on what’s happening?” You ask quietly, one hand affectionately rubbing my stomach.

“Mmmm- yeah… I think so. Thanks.” I reply and watch you walk over to Jimmy to presumably tell him that I’m in labour.

Everything feels different now I’m sat down; my hips ache, my pelvis feels full and my stomach seems to sit further out forcing itself to sit between my thighs. The baby had definitely dropped and was making its arrival known.

Why now… why here… I thought to myself, this baby has a really warped sense of timing. I closed my eyes and rubbed slow circles around my stomach. I tried to stay calm and reassure myself that everything would be okay, but my broken waters continuing to leak from me served as a constant reminder of my advancing labour. My heart raced and it felt like I couldn’t quite catch my breath through the rising panic…

~•~

I look Jimmy straight in the eyes. “We need to get down. Now… if not sooner.”

He shook his head “I wasn’t lying when I said we couldn’t. You guys knew the issues before you got on. I’ll put an SOS out so the medical facilities will meet us when we land, but it’s going to be around 2 hours.”

“Shit” I cursed under my breath, as you groaned loudly, the first vocalisation of a rapidly accelerating labour.

I dashed to you and skidded down to my knees, inadvertently sliding through your amniotic fluid in the process, cursing all the way. I grasp your hands as you grip mine - hard - as your eyes look at me pleading, struggling to catch your breath.

I talk you down, calming whispering tones as you catch your breath and groan through the rest of the contraction.

Jimmy struggles putting 2 and 2 together as he asks “what’s happening?”

“We might well be pushing out a baby at 2000 feet if you can’t get this thing on the ground” I summarise.

“Fuck” came the blunt reply from our pilot.

~•~

We stay in that position for the next few contractions - offering me your hands to hold or shoulders to squeeze. Meanwhile, Jimmy is nervously pressing buttons on his map and contacting the base on the ground, trying to find any nearby suitable location to land - his laidback persona starting to fray at the edges.

“Hooo- the baby feels so low…” I huff out after a particularly fierce contraction. “I don’t think… I can sit anymore. Feels like I’m sitting on their head. Need to- oof- stand. Help me up?” I ask holding out my arms.

Your large hands hook under my arms and slowly aid me to standing. My balance is thrown off, the baby even lower, and I stumble a little but you’re quick to react and hold me steady.

“How are you doing love?” You ask me with concerned eyes.

“Okay… as well as I can b-be in the circumstances.” I attempt to joke, motioning to the basket and the open skies around us and the ridiculous situation we’ve found ourselves in.

“I guess of all places to labour, this has definitely got the best views.” You tuck a sweaty strand of hair behind my ear. You’re barely even looking at where we are - eyes focussed solely on me.

“I’m sorry… I ruined this experience for you.” I murmur quietly to you, feeling guilty that you were now missing out on enjoying this bucket-list activity.

“What? Don’t be silly. You’re having my baby, there is literally nothing more important to me than the two of you.” You kiss my forehead and pull me closer.

Before I can respond another contraction steals any words I could say and I’m left with only deep groans coming from my mouth.

The pain and pressure rages through my very core, my hands scramble to hook themselves around your neck as my hips sway and my knees bounce, pulling myself downwards against your sturdy frame, releasing a low moan against your chest.

When the contraction fades and my ability to speak returns I ask “do you think we should maybe start… hoooo… timing them?”

~•~

“Let’s give it a go” I say, glancing at my watch. At this point I’m just playing along as I’d been timing them since I first realised you’d been having contractions. We focus on each other through the course of the next few minutes not even staring out at the view at this point - you’re deep breathing, head buried in my chest and my hands roaming your body trying to rub - anywhere - to make the pain go away.

As the next contraction builds bringing you back into your previous position, hanging low off me and moaning loud through the worst of it, I’m counting in my head. The numbers reach high enough that I just give up as you finally come out the other end and look at me.

“So you know in the birthing class when they say come in when they’re less than 5 minutes apart and last longer than a minute?”

You nod, signalling me to go on.

“I think we should have been there for quite some time now. That was 3 minutes from the last one and lasted at least a minute - lost count after 50 seconds”

Jimmys face, watching all this from afar went white.

I turned and noticed. “Hey you said you’d had babies before. Any tips for this bit? All my knowledge is from videos at this point?”

He shook his head. “No. I couldn’t handle it. Seen my wife in stirrups, seen her bulge as the head came out and I passed out. Came to as she had a baby to her chest and 2 nurses fanning me looking on concerned”

I shook my head. “Great…” I wasn’t sure how much of that you had took on in you slight state of delirium, but either way, the next contraction was building and you held on tight.

~•~

On learning that we should already be at the hospital by now with how close together the contractions were coming, I wiggled out of your hold and moved away. Needing space… to process, to not be touched.

“No…. That can’t- can’t be right. Hoooo-“ I breathed heavily, hands gripping the edge of the basket in the absence of you. Unsure if it was the increasing pressure or the very real possibility that I was going to have this baby in a damn hot air balloon, my brain went into complete denial.

“Babe, I’m sorry. We can time some more to be sure, but this baby is definitely coming, sooner than we want.” You stand next to me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder which I shrug off with a gruff. I know this isn’t your fault, just a case of really unfortunate timing, but the constant pressure and pain has me taking my frustrations out at you.

“Fuck… ohhhh my back….” I whimper, leaning over the railing and jutting my hips backwards. The baby must be pressing on a nerve that has my spine screaming.

Despite snapping at you and shrugging off any contact, your hands grasp my hips and you press your thumbs deep into pressure points in my lower back. The relief is instant, pain reducing to a level that didn’t make me want to vomit, and I exhale a moan into my elbows.

“Did we- find anywhere- else to- land?” I pant out.

You turn to Jimmy, who also heard my laboured question.

“Yes I did, it’s sooner than our original landing spot, but with the wind speed and direction we’re travelling… erm it’s still going to be at least another hour and half…” Jimmy admitted to us.

~•~

“I don’t think she’s going to last an hour and a half!” I rant at Jimmy while rubbing your back. He looks at me with an apologetic look in his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“Is there anything in here that we could use? A first aid kit at least?” I ask.

Jimmy digs under the shelf where his laptop sits and pulls out a tiny first aid kit. Leaving you for just a moment I take the first aid kit from Jimmy and open it - inside a small roll of gauze, some tape and a pair of round ended scissors.

“No idea if these will even be sharp enough to cut the cord… not that we could tie it off properly if we could.” I at least sounded like I knew what I was talking about though inside I was panicking at this point.

“Quick…” you groan as the next contraction builds and I rush over to hold your hand, feeling you squeeze tight.

~•~

I take your hand, gripping hard, and twist around towards you curling into your embrace. I hang on to you as the contraction takes hold, the pain sharp and the pressure constant. You notice the sounds I’m making with each contraction are getting deeper, now lowing instinctually with every peak.

A minute slowly passes but the contraction doesn’t fade. I’m still shifting and groaning in your arms.

“Hoooooo- No…. Oh no no no…” I suddenly whimper, panting erratically.

“What is it?” You ask worriedly.

I lift my head up, seeing the apprehension in your eyes. “I- hooohooohoo- no…. not now….”

“Baby, talk to me. I need to know so I can help you.” You plead, cupping my face.

“I think… ooohh- I think I need to push…” I say as I bite my bottom lip, breathing heavily through my nose.

~•~

It was my turn for my face to go white. “Now? No! God, no… not now!” I pleaded to the open air around us. You weren’t listening, or at least not responding, deep breaths being sucked in and puffed out to try and regain a moment of calm before the contractions happen all over again.

“You can’t push. No one has checked you… are you dilated? You might injure yourself. You have to wait until we land!” I’m rambling at this point. Instinctively I know there’s nothing we can do to stop it and it happens when it happens but the only thing going through my head is ‘we’re all alone up here.’

“Please baby do your best. You can’t push… please” I plead.

~•~

The contraction eventually begins to fade, and taking with it the urge to push. I can’t help the smile that pulls my lips hearing your string of panicked questions and your flustered demeanour. Placing a hand to your chest, I calmly say “Honey, breathe.” Echoing the words you’ve previously said to me. “It’s okay, it’s passed now.”

“Oh god, you scared the life out of me.” You pull me closer, wrapping your arms around my waist. “So… you’re doing okay now?”

“Yes, I’m okay now, we both are.” I reassure you, holding the swell of my stomach that’s nestled between us.

You crouch right down so you’re eyelevel with the bump, both your hands splayed wide across its surface. Looking up at me over the swell you mutter “Can’t believe we’re going to meet our baby.”

I giggle, placing my hands over yours. “I know, hopefully not too soon though.” My breath suddenly hitches with a sharp inhale. “Oooohhhh here comes another one. Quick, hold me-” I manage to spit out before the contraction steals my speech and buckles my knees.

~•~

You sink down to your knees, your head nestling into the crook of my neck as you flop your arms over either of my shoulders and leave them draped down my back. I feel your fists clench and release through the bouncing of your forearms as you let out a groan, muffled by the fabric of my tee shirt.

I whisper close to your ears “You’re doing great, keep on doing that, resist that urge to push.”

I feel your head bobbing into me, nodding as much as you could, not able to give me a verbal response.

Your knees are spread wide and I can only hope at this time that your stance being wide doesn’t foreshadow anything happening between them.

I glance to the side to see Jimmy moving towards us to push past my back. He was fiddling with a few ballast bags on the side of the basket, pulling them in and pushing them to the opposite side of the basket.

He didn’t say anything, but after shoving the bags over the other side, re-securing their fixings and letting them out over the edge he went back to the gas controls.

Suddenly we felt the unmistakable feeling of descent, the slight jump in the pit of our stomachs.

“Are we nearly there?” You asked. The contraction was ebbing away and your voice was croaky, only barely loud enough to hear.

“Sorry” came Jimmy, and once more he sounded genuinely apologetic. “We need to drop down a bit to catch a different wind current to get to the new destination. Still got an hour or so.”

Your head dug back into my shoulder. That wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

~•~

“An hour?! Hooooo- I don’t know if the baby is going to wait that long…” I whisper quietly in your ear, not wanting to admit it too loudly as that would make it real.

“Shhhh, it’ll be okay baby.” You quietly reply as you rub my back. “You’re doing great, keep resisting the urge. It’s not time to push yet…. It can’t be” you added so quietly, whispering to yourself. Hoping.

“The baby feels so so low…ughhh… even without a contraction the pressure… so much pressure.”

“I know darling, but you’ve got this. We’ll be back on the ground before we know it. Just hold on a little bit longer.” You look skyward, pleading to the universe. You really didn’t want to have to deliver this baby at 2,000 feet.

As the balloon dropped to its new level, the basket got caught on a rogue strong gust of wind, jolting everything and everyone inside as it swayed abruptly. With our arms wrapped around each other, we nearly toppled over but managed to stay upright as we both instinctually widened our knees for balance.

“Are you okay?” You ask me, our hearts thumping in shock.

I could only nod as another contraction started not long after the basket steadied itself.

“Jeeze, Jimmy what the hell was that?!” You shout towards our pilot.

“Sorry guys, that was a bit of a rough one.” He joked, readjusting his equipment that had dislodged

Meanwhile the contraction raged through me, every muscle seemingly tense and solid. My hips were screaming, forced apart by the large head barrelling towards my cervix. The pressure… it was too much. My knees were too wide. I couldn’t hold off any longer, I had to push…my body deciding to act of its own accord. Bearing down, a long and low grunt suddenly rattles from my throat against your neck.

~•~

I’d been paying careful attention to your grunts and moans over the past hour or so as concern grew and grew, but the new noises you were making were different. I looked at your face and saw your scrunched up eyes, the blown out cheeks and I suddenly realised.

“No!” I snapped. You didn’t respond. “Don’t push, baby, you can’t. You need to be checked. You know you can’t push until you’re fully dilated. Please… don’t want you to get injured.”

The end of the push came, you opened your eyes. There were tears there, frustration, pain, panic… who knows but all you could answer in response was “I have to push right now!” Soon you’re at it again.

~•~

“Can’t- help- it…mnghhhhhh!” My hands claw at your shoulders, using you to balance as my hips sink lower and my body pushes hard. “Oooohh… I can feel it… baby is moving…down!”

“Shit. Okay, okay.” You try and rationalise and plan, working out what the hell we were going to do now. “Baby, is this it? Is this really happening now?” You ask me.

“Ughhh! I think so… feels very real to me hooo!”

“Then we’ve got to take your panties off. We need to see if you’re fully dilated, if you should even be pushing right now.” Your brows furrow with concern and sympathy with every hitch of breath and groan of pain, knowing this was about to escalate very quickly.

Your hands disappear under my dress and find the dampened fabric of my underwear from my broken waters. You roll them down my thighs but keep them hidden from view beneath my knee-length dress, not wanting to alert Jimmy to what was happening. It was just you and me right now.

“Tell me when this contraction is over, then I can try and see if I can work out how dilated you are.” You say softly, trying to keep me calm and reassured in this far-from-ideal situation.

I nod in understanding, grunting once more in an uncontrollable push before gasping for breath at its end. “Hoooo-hoooo I think it’s passed…” I croak quietly to you.

~•~

I look up to check and see Jimmy occupying himself with his duties, not looking at us. Blowing out my own breath to calm myself I lower you down, so you’re on your hands and knees in front of me.

I stand up and move around behind you. Lifting the back of your dress up, I roll it up to expose your ass, your wide opened legs stretching your panties around your knees.

I let out an involuntary gasp. It’s not lost on you.

“What is it” you gasp. I describe the scene in front of me. Whilst your lips hadn’t yet parted, the baby’s head was definitely bulging, sitting just inside of you. I’d no medical training, but could only presume that we were at the stage where each push had the head begin to show and retreat as you stopped the effort. I explained to you that we were well past the point of needing to check your dilation, and right now we need to get you more comfortable to push… first task will be to get those panties off you so you could open up freely.

I looked up and that’s when I saw Jimmy looking straight at us, wide eyed like a deer caught in the headlights.

~•~

“I hope you’ve got some blankets or something up here Jimmy, cos this baby is going to be born before we reach the ground.” You warn him sternly, snapping him out of his panicked staring.

Ignoring our pilot, you focus your attention back to me - shifting and squirming on hands and knees, the dress still lifted showing just how close the baby was to this world.

“How are you holding up darling?” You ask quietly to me.

“Mhhhh- like there’s a bowling ball stuck in my vagina-” I snap with a gruff.

“Right let’s get those panties off before the next contraction so you’re free to move.”

My hands and knees were planted so heavily on the floor of the basket, I couldn’t move. The idea of raising either of my knees to free my underwear seemed too Herculean a task. You had to manoeuvre around me, holding me steady and pulled the garment free from my legs.

As soon as I was free my knees automatically spread opening up my hips further to ease the unbearable pressure in my pelvis. I know you wanted to move me for the next contraction, but I could already feel it approaching. Pressure was building and building, the baby pushing against my opening. With my ass still on full display I went down to my elbows, my forehead almost kissing the floor with my hips up pointing to the sky, and I succumbed to my instincts and pushed.

You held me steady as I pushed, watching in fascination as the bulge got bigger. The sounds I was making had turned primal, instinctual, and you could tell I had mentally retreated into myself and on the job I had to do.

“Oh my god… I think I can see the head!” You cried out after a forceful push showed the smallest sliver of the baby’s head appear just behind my lips.

~•~

My exclamation caused you to lose your focus, immediately stoping pushing and causing the sliver of the head to slide back in. Biology won out though as you were forced to push again only a few moments later and once more the first glimpse of our baby was clear to see again.

You grunt with relief as the contraction finally passed - with the head slipping back out of view again - but you were buoyed by my enthusiasm.

Jimmy, taking a moment to interrupt with a cough managed “sorry no towels or anything… it’s not intended to be used for ferrying the sick, wounded or I guess labouring mothers to be”

“Help me up” you gasp as you pull on my arms. I move around to grab you under the armpits and heave you up, you dress slipping back down your legs covering your modesty again.

“Here it comes” you grunt as you echo the position you’d been in only a moment ago, your arms under my armpits, one hand holding the other wrist, the other gripping tight to my tee shirt in a balled fist. You planted your legs wide and almost growled with effort as the next contraction ramped up.

~•~

My body trembled against you as I pushed, my arms so tight around you grasping at your clothes. Your frame the only thing keeping me upright, the smell of your aftershave the only thing keeping me from panicking. It was an effort to get up but I needed the gravity, something telling me to stand up, to bring the baby down.

“Oh god…” I moaned out heavily against your neck “I can f-feel the head…” my knees squatting slightly during the push, opening up for the baby to peak through.

But when the contraction was over, and the pushing stopped, the head slipped backwards and I whimpered a sob on your shoulder.

The effort of pushing had dampened the back of my neck and hair with sweat, and beads of it glistened on my forehead. Though it was early evening the sun was still bright and warm in the sky, making my temperature soar. Every pore of my skin seemed to tingle, aggravated by the fabric of my dress. My entire being was overheating. I felt like I couldn’t quite catch my breath; the air too hot, my skin too tacky.

I shifted in your arms, uncomfortable, frustrated. I needed to do something but couldn’t find the words. You noticed me pulling at the hem of my dress and knew what my subconscious was trying to do. Still holding me upright, your hands roamed my back and found the zip of my dress, pulling down, helping to free me from the cotton prison.

~•~

Your eyes opened as I reached down and grabbed the base of your dress, suddenly realising what I was doing. You stretched your arms out, hands placed lightly on my shoulders as my body raised up, pulling the dress with me as I went.

The first thing I noticed was the bump stopped the dress from coming up. I had to tug it a little to get it unstuck. I pulled it up over your breasts and over your head, then releasing it from one arm to the other until it hung loosely from my fist, draping on the floor.

The sigh of satisfaction as you felt the cool breeze rush over your exposed, overheated skin, instantly cooling you was palpable. You were now naked except for your sports bra you had put on this morning for comfort.

You gripped hard on my shoulders again, the next contraction building as you managed to grunt out “that feels so nice… but don’t you dare lose that dress. I need it to get home.”

~•~

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You whispered back to me with a laugh.

I held on tight to you as the contraction took hold; my body pushing, squeezing, opening for the baby.

“Keep going baby, you’re doing wonderfully.” You offered words of encouragement against the moaning I was making in your ear.

“I don’t feel like I’m making any- mnghhh- progress.” I say releasing the push with a huff.

When the contraction had waned I shifted out of your hold a bit. Holding the underside of my low bump I swayed gently, facing outwards towards the stunning horizon, letting the cool breeze wash over my skin in the break I was given.

“How long til we land now?” I dared to ask our pilot, who’d been giving us a wide birth since I started openly pushing.

“We’re getting closer, I’d say just under 45 minutes.” Jimmy answered simply, completely avoiding looking in my direction.

“Do you reckon - hoooo… we’ve got any hope of making it to land before this baby c-comes?” I ask in vain, taking one hand off my bump to hold the side of the basket, my hips shifting round in wide circles.

Your hesitation gives me all the answers I need. Still you reply “Whatever happens babe, you can do this. And I’ll be right by your side.”

“Well you’re not exactly going to go anywhere.” I joke before a contraction suddenly strikes and I hiss through my teeth.

Standing in the a corner of the basket I grasp the padded railing with both hands, gripping the cushioning so hard my knuckles whiten. The baby presses lower and lower and I rock, and groan and push alongside its efforts. My hips jut backwards towards you, my back flat as I lean into the baskets edge, nearly wailing with the efforts of the push.

“Can- can you see… ohhhh…. Is it coming out now? Mghhhhh!!!” I cry out mid-push.

~•~

“I can see it baby, I can see it!” Even against all of my natural instincts to panic I’m getting invested in your progress and can’t help but get excited as things show progress. The bulge between your legs was now significantly bigger than when I had first noticed it, and whenever you were pushing, the head was forming into a genuine teardrop shape, though still not holding its place when you stopped.

“Shit” came the voice from Jimmy. Panicking, expecting to get some bad news, my eyes shoot over to him just to see him staring straight at you, focused clearly on the dark patch between your legs.

“Don’t you dare freak out or feint… there’s 4 of us in this basket relying on you to get us safely on the ground” I admonished. Jimmy in turn shook his head and thanked me, breaking his reverie and focusing back on the laptop.

Focusing back on you, you grunt as you push again. “You’re doing so good baby. I can see the head a lot when you push. Keep focused… if you want, you can reach down when you push and feel it yourself”

~•~

I tentatively release one hand's grip on the barrier, the excitement in your voice making me desperate to feel the baby. But I can’t seem to let go, the effort of pushing is too consuming and I’m scared to let go of the support. I give a loud grunt with a big push, feeling my lips starting to burn with the stretch.

But then it’s over, contraction faded, and I bring myself back up to standing. Feeling more confident without a contraction to let go of the support, I place one of my hands between my thighs and I can feel it; just behind my slightly parted lips is our baby.

“Oh my- wow!” I exclaim, making first contact with our child. “I can feel them, that’s our baby.”

“I know, and you’re doing wonderfully darling. We’ll be meeting them soon” You say, grinning ear to ear and stepping towards me.

“It’s got hair!”

“That’s not surprising, considering the amount you’ve got.” You joke and stroke the thick locks of hair that cascade past my shoulders, tucking wayward strands behind my ear.

“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” I ask, my fingers still delicately stroking the bit of head that’s peaking out.

“I’ve told you I don’t mind. As long as they are healthy and happy.”

“I know, I know…. I’m kinda hoping for a girl though…” I admit.

I feel the next contraction brewing, but I don’t want to remove my hand from my crotch. Instead I back into the corner of the basket, keeping one hand on my baby and the other flying out towards you for support.

My body sinks into a squat when the contraction hits and everything squeezes downwards. I take a big gulp of air and push… hard, feeling the baby’s head inch forward into my palm.

~•~

My hand reaches out to you, your hand on my shoulder and my hand in turn resting just under where your bra strap rests. As you sink down I follow you, ultimately ending on my haunches so I’m eye level with you. Whilst you’re desperate to close your eyes during the push you fight to keep them open and look into my eyes, my smiling demeanour giving you a level of comfort in this trying time. Suddenly I lean forward and place my second hand over yours so we are both cupping your lips. I feel the roundness of your hand as it envelops the bulge there and get in close. “Push!” I urge.

There’s no stopping you, your cheeks are puffed out and your brow is furrowed but you keep your eyes on me. Your mouth is wide and groaning as you make the effort but still we keep that connection.

My hand is pressed outwards as is yours as your lips part and your fingers rub the slick, surprisingly spongy mass slowly making its way out from between your legs.

You suck in your breath as you need a moment to get your strength as I say “again?” and you’re back at it, groaning loud and low, the hand on my shoulder grasping hard.

~•~

It was just you and me at that moment, the rest of the world completely shut out. You and me, together bringing our baby into the world.

My chest heaves with every rasped breath, my breasts resting atop the large pregnant swell that hung between my open thighs. My boobs had gotten bigger as I approached the end of this pregnancy and this bra was the only one that didn’t pinch.

Your eyes light up as we both feel the head sliding forwards into our hands. But the pain is astronomical and I’d lose myself entirely to it if you weren’t beside me right now. The baby fills even more of my palm and I can’t help but cry out “…Hurts…. Burning…” in between my laboured breaths.

The contraction starts to ebb away but I don’t want to lose this progress. It’s almost too much to bear if the baby slides back again now. I give a final long grunt, pushing as hard as I could while the contraction was still present, huffing as I release the push and hoping the baby stays put.

~•~

I watch in awe as I see you put incredible effort into a push, your face both incredibly contorted and at the same time, focused on it’s one task. Your hand moves away from between your legs, batting mine back at the same time. It twists and grabs my fingers, as my eyes sink down to the area that was previously covered.

Your hand squeezes my fingers as you let out a roaring sound, unlike any I’d heard so far. The hand on my shoulder digs in to the point where I’m certain your nails will leave embedded marks, but still my eyes focus between your legs.

In front of my eyes I see your lips spread around the head moving out, red, firey skin moulding outwards, spreading like a petal on a flower. The teardrop shape of the head, expanding outwards.

You gasp. “Burning… burning… burning, hurts” it’s almost incoherent babbling at this time, but whatever you were doing had some positive effect, as once I see your shoulders sag, right there between your legs was the most perfect oval of darkened, matted, soggy hair that I had ever seen.

“You did it baby!” I yell in triumph. That’s when I realised that you weren’t paying attention. It’s clear that at this point, there’s nothing you can do but focus on the ring of fire between your legs. It’s all consuming at this point, your knees are quivering trying not to lose control, your hands are squeezing and digging nonstop. Your eyes are closed and scrunched hard.

Youre gasping “Pull it out! Help me!” There’s nothing I can do at this point but sympathise as you struggle at this most gruelling stage of the process.

~•~

I can’t think, I can’t speak, I can’t move. I’m entirely lost in this moment; blinded by the pain of being stretched far beyond anything I thought possible. But it was more than just the spreading of my sensitive lips - my hips were wrenched apart, the baby shoved against my pelvis, the nauseating feeling of being so… full. I couldn’t take it.

My body started to tremble, you could feel it beneath the hold you had on my ribs and you could see me shaking in front of your eyes.

“I can’t do this!” I wailed, eyes scrunched and tears leaking past my lashes. “It’s too big! Uhhhh- fuck. Help me.”

“Oh baby…” you whispered, your heart breaking at seeing me in so much pain. “I know, but you are so close. You can do this.”

“I c-can’t!” I sobbed.

“Yes, you can. You are the strongest, bravest woman I have ever met. You can do anything, and you can do this. Just a little bit longer, I promise. Then when the next contraction comes, you push with everything you’ve got, okay? The head is almost here…”

I nod. That’s all I can manage. My head lolls forward, both my hands clawing at your shoulders, my entire body trembling, and we wait. We wait through agonising second after agonising second for the next contraction.

~•~

Soon it’s upon you. “It’s coming” you manage, before gripping me tightly again and dropping your chin down, closing your eyes and giving it all you’ve got.

I watch the oval shape between your legs quiver and a few seconds later start to move. You gasp, taking a breath and start again, still in mid contraction. More movement.

“Go! Go! Go!” I’m chanting, it seems to help. Finally your lips turn white, all blood drained from around them as they are stretched to their widest point.

You gasp and start panting, something primal in your memories from videos we have watched telling you to pant out the last push, and suddenly there’s a rush. You jump. There’s a gush of more fluid. My eyes go wide, and teary, what I’m seeing seems both the most natural thing in the world and at the same time the most unreal thing ever.

Deep in your squat, dangling between your legs, is the back of a baby’s head.

Your hand lets go of mine and reaches down to hold it. You’re bewildered, somewhat exhausted and sore, but you’ve accomplished a major milestone.

~•~

Gasping, my fingers delicately roam the whole circumference of the head that’s now outside of me. “Oh… hi baby.” I say softly to our child.

I look up at you and see the tears in your eyes. “Oh my god… oh my god…” I sob through my smile, not quite able to form any other words through the relief and awe of what’s just happened.

Your hand joins mine, cupping the head together as you lean forward to kiss me. It’s salty with my sweat and tears. “You, are incredible.” You whisper, our foreheads pressed together.

In no time at all, the respite is over and I’m squirming and shifting again in your arms from an approaching contraction. Letting go of our baby’s head my hands brace against my thighs.

“Hooooo- babe, need to move…” I groan, my legs and ankles suddenly protesting against the deep squatting position.

“Do whatever you need to do, where do you want to be?” You ask, trying to second guess what I’d want but also knowing I was acting entirely on natural instinct.

I couldn’t speak, instead my hands used your torso as a ladder - lifting myself up and getting down onto my knees, my feet pointed behind me in a v-shape. I felt instantly more stable, more in, kneeling so close to the floor.

The baby was on its way, its arrival immanent, I could sense it. Some primal instinct in my very DNA unlocked. I needed less physical support while on my knees so my hands released you, instead reaching behind to unclasp my bra. In my haste to remove my final layer of clothing, I forgot where we were for a moment and it was only on seeing your raised eyebrows I realise I’d whipped my bra off and casually thrown it overboard.

~•~

I couldn’t help it. I knew instinctively that I should be looking at you, but something made me follow the trajectory of your discarded underwear as I watched it soar over the side. My eyes followed it over the edge and as I lifted myself up off my haunches back to standing, I noticed the ground was very much closer than what I had expected.

“Jimmy… what’s happening?” I bellow out to our pilot. My brain went ‘he’s fainted, we’re going to crash’ and my natural instinct was to panic, but my eyes were drawn back to you, kneeling on the ground, hands back between your legs supporting the head of our baby. I couldn’t turn and look for him. Thankfully he returned the question with his own shouted answer.

“We’re nearly there. School field is just over there.” Relieved at his response, I briefly turned my head to look at him, to look at where his hand was pointing. I followed the direction and I saw blue lights in the distance. I saw a wide open area, which was the football and athletic fields of a school. I didn’t recognise it, but I knew we were nearly down. Your bra had landed in some unfortunate persons back garden. Might be some explaining to do for the occupants later.

I heard you grunt as my attention was drawn back to you. You looked radiant, like some sort of primal goddess, nude and backlit by the sun. I saw the baby had turned and you had started to push. Your grunts were audible as you pushed your hips forward, opening up the passage for the baby, your hands gently cupping its head.

Another grunt, and the first shoulder was free. A second grunt and the second shoulder. I dashed forward and skidded to the ground, stopping just in front of you with my hands skimming the ground between your legs, and more importantly directly under the baby which was out to its torso.

And with a triumphant yell from you, it flopped down into my hands, slick, covered in vernix, remnants of blood, and flooding my hands with yet more amniotic fluid.

“You did it baby…” I’m almost shocked thinking it’s all over.

~•~

Pure relief flooded through my entire body as the baby slipped into both of our awaiting hands. My mouth was dry, my brain in shock, and I’m only able to mumble “baby… baby…” over and over as I pick up the slippery newborn and immediately bring them to my bare chest. The need to see, to hold, to nurture was completely overpowering.

When the baby made its first gurgling cry against me I thought my heart may explode. I sagged back into the floor, exhaustion taking hold, and stared at the baby in my arms. Their little scrunched up face as they cried, their tiny hands with ten little fingers, their small feet with ten tiny toes. I had to see every inch of our baby, to check they were okay, and when I readjusted them against the curves of my body I announced “It’s a girl!”

You knelt next to me in the corner of the basket, looking over my shoulder totally transfixed and enamoured with our newborn. “You did it baby, I’m so proud of you!” You cupped my head and kissed the side of my face, my cheek, my shoulder, and eventually my lips. You couldn’t stop the emotional wave washing over you at the sight of your wife and newborn daughter beside you, wrapped in your arms.

I couldn’t quite believe it was over - the baby was here. Born in the basket of a hot air balloon. I stared down at our daughter and giggled to myself.

“What is it?” You asked, not able to wipe the beaming smile off your face.

“I can’t believe she’s here. That that just happened. That I just gave birth in a bloody hot air balloon!” The stress from the situation and relief that we were all alright had turned to exhausted hysteria, I simply couldn’t help the laughter.

“I guess she just wanted to make a grand entrance into this world.” You cooed, looking down at the infant already nuzzled against my breast.

“I think she might be a little troublemaker.”

“Just like her mother then.” You teased, kissing me again.

~•~

“Hang on tight” comes a call from Jimmy giving us a few seconds of warning where I grabbed hold of you as the balloon finally touched the ground with a thump. I threw your dress over you to cover your modesty as I got up to walk over and thank Jimmy for how well he had done in outrageous circumstances.

As I saw 2 paramedics dash towards the balloon as the gas valves were cut and the balloon itself started sinking to the ground behind us, I heard you give another groan.

“Baby?” I turn and look at you.

“I don’t know… another contraction.” You replied.

I dashed over. “No, can’t be. We had scans… there was only one baby in there.”

As the first paramedic threw their bag over the side of the basket at vaulted over the top I looked at them pleading.

“I don’t know what’s happening. The baby is born but she’s still having contractions. Is something wrong?”

“Let’s take a look see and figure this out, I’m sure it’s fine” came the professional sounding reply as his partner came on board.

They knelt down and looked you over, checking over the baby and declaring that everything was ok. They took a moment to clamp the baby’s cord, and rubbed your belly a little.

“Ok my dear… this looks good. Give me a good strong push” they instructed.

I gasped “is there another in there? We didn’t know.” The stress of the day was getting to me.

“No sir. Your wife is just ready to pass the afterbirth.” As he said it, he collected the placenta from between your legs and checked it over for completeness. “Well done, looks like this is about as close to a textbook delivery as can be… you know except for flying through the air whilst doing it.”

To say I breathed a sigh of relief would be an understatement.

[pollymorgan]

Ex-husband Negan Part 5

Warnings: An asshole named Negan and a woman who can't get over him.

Luckily, nothing serious happened to David, except maybe the scare of his life. Negan really pulled himself together. Maybe he has finally become sensible. I had actually given up hope.

When my daughters miraculously went to school on time and Negan left the house with them, I took a deep breath.

What had happened in the last few hours?

I really feel that as soon as my ex-husband is near me for longer than five minutes, he throws my whole life into absolute chaos.

Inevitably, I had to think about the last night and my pulse immediately accelerated. It was just madness. This man still knows my body better than I do. No one can touch me the way he does. Instantly, I felt that tingling in my stomach again. That damn feeling that has often led me into misery.

19 years ago

Even though I had left my old home eight years ago to build my own life in New York, I kept in touch with my best friend Harper. Harper and I spent our entire school years together, and our connection never broke despite the distance. We used to be a trio, but Scarlet unfortunately became one of the main reasons why I had moved away so hastily.

God, I was so stupid back then not to recognize the signs and always make excuses for Negan and her. But sometimes you are so blinded that you only realize it when you see it with your own eyes.

The fact that Harper has been dating Negan's best friend Simon for a few years was, admittedly, really strange for me at first. After all, I tried with all my might to erase Negan from my life, but by now we had been separated for ages and the anger had subsided over the years. The anger, yes, but unfortunately not all the other feelings I felt towards him. If I was honest with myself, I immediately compared every new man in my life to him. Even though I didn't want to, I thought so often about our time together. Everything reminded me of him, even though I lived in a completely different city, but you can't run away from feelings.

Whenever Harper happened to mention something about Simon and Negan during our hours-long phone calls, I immediately became quiet and absorbed every piece of information. Of course, I never asked directly, my pride was too great for that, but it seemed that this guy would remain my weakness forever.

This is also how it came about that Harper invited me to her birthday. I was very excited for the house party at her place and took a few days off to fly to my old city.

After we were both incredibly excited on the phone that I would be able to follow her invitation, Harper suddenly became quite serious at the other end.

"Negan will be there too..." she said calmly.

Immediately I was speechless. Why would he show up there? After all, it's my best friend's birthday, not Simon's. I cleared my throat briefly, but then I absolutely did not want to spoil their, or my, mood.

"Yes, of course... it's totally okay! I'm looking forward to seeing him again after so long... Oh man, we were teenagers and now you're already 28, you old hag..." I joked, even though I didn't feel like joking at all, thinking about my ex-boyfriend who had broken my heart in such a brutal way.

"Yes, yes ..first get to my age! At 27, you still talk so easily." Harper countered.

Until the day of the party, I managed to push the thought of seeing Negan again out of my mind. However, when I rang her doorbell, the nervousness crept up on me. Is he already there? How will he react to me? And how will I react to him? Does he still think about me sometimes? Does he even miss me occasionally?

When Harper greeted me with the words that I was the first guest, a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Of course, postponed is not canceled, but in that moment I felt a strange relief.

We embraced joyfully and I congratulated her from the bottom of my heart. Then I handed her a bottle of her favorite Prosecco and a self-made voucher for a weekend in New York. She had wanted to visit me so many times, but the plans always failed and in the end, I was always the one who visited.

The greeting with Simon was a strange mix of a handshake and a hug, so I was glad when Harper asked me if I could help her in the kitchen.

It was my first visit to the two of them since they had moved into a shared apartment. The whole thing was really strange for me, everything seemed so adult, almost bourgeois. Not at all like I knew her. Okay, we had grown up, but somehow time seemed to have stood still for me. Since I went to New York at the age of 19, not much had changed in my lifestyle. Except that I had a steady job and earned my own money.

Harper's kitchen was full of modern appliances, while at home, I was happy if I could find a sharp knife.

But before we started preparing the rest of the food, Harper opened us two beers and within seconds, everything was just like old times. We joked and laughed about the most trivial things, and soon the first guests arrived. The doorbell kept ringing, and then Simon opened the door to let the next ones in. People would then show up in the kitchen after a few seconds, congratulating my friend on her birthday. Some of them I knew from before, while others were new acquaintances, mainly her coworkers. Mentally, I tried to match the names to the stories that Harper had told me during one of our phone conversations.

Superficially, I played it cool, but inside, I was boiling. A thousand times, I played in my mind how I would react if Negan walked in through the door. I kept envisioning that one scene that made me startle every time the doorbell rang.

I opened another beer and then helped Harper set up the buffet. The salads were piling up, she had prepared so much. Everything was planned down to the smallest detail. The color scheme of the decor matched, and the dishes were all from the same brand.

With my arms crossed on my hips, I admired everything. "Wow, I have to say, you've really become the perfect housewife, while I..."

"While you still have the hottest ass in all of America... Damn, just look at her. God bless America!" a very familiar voice interrupted me.

Amidst all the commotion around us, I hadn't even noticed that Negan had entered the kitchen. Being surprised by his presence made it even harder. I took a deep breath and then turned with a smile on my face to face him.

He was already so close to me that there was barely any space between us, and his face put on that typical grin. I hadn't seen him in so long, but his green-brown eyes looked familiar to me. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss on my cheek.

I literally inhaled his scent, a mixture of rugged aftershave, cigarette smoke, and his own unique scent. Instead of letting go immediately, he held me much longer than necessary, and I was frozen in his arms.

"It feels unbelievably great to finally feel you so close again..." he whispered in my ear, and I immediately got goosebumps all over my body.

None of the prepared lines came out of my mouth.

He hadn't forgotten how to charm me, if anything, he seemed to have perfected it.

I stared at him wordlessly until he suddenly leaned in even more. Bewildered, I evaded him, and he grabbed one of the beer bottles that were right behind me.

Amused by my reaction, he winked at me and clinked his bottle against mine. Then he disappeared into the living room. Suddenly, a former classmate approached me and hugged me to greet me. She immediately started talking a mile a minute, but I couldn't follow her words as I kept thinking about the recent situation with Negan.

Some time passed before we all decided to move to the living room. Negan and Simon were standing by the window, smoking a cigarette. I tried my best not to stare at him constantly, but I caught myself doing it repeatedly.

Harper introduced me to Daniel, one of her coworkers. The three of us sat down with a few others at the living room table. The conversation was already in full swing, so it was easy for me to just join in.

I was in the middle of telling the others about the most unique restaurants in New York when I suddenly felt someone sit next to me on the couch. Without looking, I could tell it was Negan. Immediately, my heart rate increased, but I tried not to show it and continued talking.

Negan started a conversation with Daniel, who was still sitting next to me, so I leaned further forward so they could talk better. Negan leaned even closer behind my back to his conversation partner, and suddenly, I felt his hand on my hip. A bolt of electricity shot through my body, but I tried not to show it. As if that wasn't enough, my t-shirt had ridden up slightly in this position, and Negan began gently stroking the bare skin of my back with his thumb. God, how I had missed this feeling. I pushed all doubts aside and just focused on his tender touch and what it was doing to me.

It was only when I heard my name that I was snapped out of my trance.

"What?" I asked, startled, looking at Negan, who straight ened and then smiled knowingly at me.

"The beer at Dawson's is a disaster..." he laughed.

I leaned back against the couch and then looked at Daniel.

"Oh yes, terrible... gave me the hangover of my life," I tried to somehow join the conversation.

"That was probably more about the quantity than the quality..." Negan noted amusedly and reached for my thigh. His hand stayed there for the next while, until I loudly declared that I needed to visit the restroom and disappeared there.

Upon reaching the bathroom, I straightened up in front of the mirror and looked at my reflection questioningly. Where was all of this leading? I didn't have an answer.

As soon as I opened the door to go back, Negan was standing right in front of me. Lost in my thoughts, I bumped into him.

"Hey... not so hasty! Is it already midnight, or why are you in such a hurry, Cinderella?" he said, holding my upper arms.

"Would you search for me if I lost my shoe?" I asked, looking at him inquisitively.

"I may not be a damn prince, but fuck, honey. I would turn the whole world upside down to find you..." he replied.

I'm not sure if I was the one who took a step back, or if he led me back to the bathroom, but suddenly we were there. Negan closed the door behind him and locked it, not taking his eyes off me.

"And what would you do when you find me?" I asked innocently, nervously biting my lower lip.

Negan pulled me towards him abruptly and kissed me just as passionately.

"Exactly this..." he whispered into my open mouth before our tongues touched. In that kiss lay all the desire and the incredible longing that had been dormant in me for the past years. I clutched onto the hair at the back of his head as if I never wanted to let go.

Slowly, my mouth traveled along his jaw, his beard pleasantly scratching my lips, and when I touched his neck, I felt his Adam's apple slightly vibrate.

"I was such a damn idiot..." he now whispered softly.

"Oh yes, you were... I think now would be the right time to make things right..." I said, as I was already undoing the belt of his pants.

Negan grinned at me, "If we stay in here any longer, everyone outside will know what we've been up to in here."

"Very good..." I said with a smile and was about to kneel down, but he stopped me.

"Stop, we don't have time for that now..." as he said that, he turned me around so that my back was to him, then crossed his arms in front of me and pulled me close to him. The feeling of his strong body made me even more unrestrained.

"Baby, believe me, I'll do anything you want, but first, I just need to feel your sweet pussy around my cock... I've missed you so incredibly much..." he growled in a deep voice directly into my ear and pushed me towards the washing machine, until I eventually leaned against it.

The lower arm of his left arm landed on my back and gently pushed my upper body down. While holding me in this position, with his right hand, he pulled down my jeans and underwear, and I excitedly helped him until they were hanging around my knees, presenting Negan with my naked behind. His hand traveled up the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, and I spread my legs as much as I could. Then his flat hand landed directly on my center. Gently, he ran his fingers through my folds, and just the feeling made me moan.

"Please, I need your cock..." I pleaded.

With the hand that had just touched my most intimate area, he gave me a light spank on the behind.

"And let no one say dreams don't come true..." Negan exclaimed enthusiastically.

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (ch. 8)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): So about that getting chapter out quicker thing...I blame tech week

Series masterlist can be found here.

warnings: a little bit of cursing, mild anxiety, airports

wc: ~1500

~~

Soon apparently meant thirty minutes. The plane’s landing gear hit the tarmac hard. The few shrieks were outweighed by the many sighs of relief, you own included. Jon yanked the window open, squinting. The view of the tarmac went from blurred to clear in the morning sunlight as the plane slowed. 

“Tt, finally. Though Philadelphia would not have been my first choice as a welcome back to the East Coast.” Damian pulled his gaze from the window, bending down to resecure the closures on his backpack. Jon’s eyes stayed glued to the window. 

“Are all plane landings this rough?”

“Yeah, usually,” you replied. “But it means we’re on the ground, so I don’t mind.” 

“Welcome to Philadelphia, ladies and gentlemen. The local time is 9:32 am and the temperature is 47 degrees Fahrenheit. Apologizes for the early landing but glad we all made it safe and sound. Remember to stop at the help desk if you do need to get your luggage routed to baggage claim or if you would like to take a voucher and find another method of transportation to Gotham. Thank you all for your patience and cooperation and thank you for flying with us.”

“If I ever see the inside of a plane again, it will be too soon,” Jon whined. You turned to see him drop his head on Damian’s shoulder.

“Flying commercial is both unpleasant and inefficient, I concur.” Damian squinted at the standstill line forming at the front of the plane. You stayed carefully silent. The two future trips you had in your calendar burned in the back of your mind. 

“But hey,” Jon sat up. “At least we met you!”

You chuckled, maneuvering up and out of your seat into the line of departing passengers before swinging your backpack over your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” A bittersweet wave of emotion gripped your heart. “It would have sucked so much more without you guys.”  

The deplaning of the flight was the worst you’d ever been a part of. Between panic and desire to leave, everyone was sloppy and on a short fuse. You nearly got whacked in the head with a carry-on bag trying to stand up. You did get elbowed trying to move forwards in the line.   

There was no Damian and Jon right behind you this time when you turned around after finally making your way into the airport. The spike of disappointment that drove through your chest caught you off guard. I knew this was going to happen, you reminded yourself. It didn’t make the ache in your chest go away.

“Hi,” you greeted the help desk employee. “I’d like to get my bag routed to baggage claim.” The required materials—your boarding pass, baggage tag receipt, and driver’s license—weren’t hard to produce. In just a few minutes, you were given a new receipt and an instruction to check screens for the baggage claim. The guaranteed “voucher” was to be later emailed, added to your airline account. You stepped off to the side, shoving the new receipt in your pocket. They’re tall, you figured. You’d see them if they were still there. Multiple scans of the crowd later, you didn’t see Damian’s waves nor Jon’s signature glasses. The spike of disappointment morphed into a vice around your chest even as you shoved it down. Your phone, now off airplane mode, buzzed in your pocket. You spun on your heel and headed towards baggage claim. The train you needed to take back home wasn’t going to book itself. 

Despite your unfamiliarity with the airport, it was simple enough to follow the signs towards the baggage claim area. You stopped at a restroom on your way there to avoid having to maneuver through one with a full suitcase in tow. The screen was empty of flights from your airline when you arrived, and your phone was blank of any email updates. Instead, you rerouted to the Amtrak app. The train with the lowest fare that also gave you enough buffer time to get your bags and catch the local train from the airport to the station was 2 hours away. The number of your bank balance flashed in your mind. 

“Thirty-eight for the train and eight to get to the airport,” you muttered aloud. “Yes I am so willing to spend fifty bucks to finally just be home.” The inevitable expense of a taxi or rideshare back to your home poked at the back of your mind. You ignored it. The voucher would cover the difference later on and that would have to be enough. 

A notification banner popped up on the top of your phone screen. The text notification was from the airline, declaring baggage claim three. Sure enough, the screen on the wall said the same thing. Baggage claim number three was farther down. You moved quickly, shoving through other passengers to stand in closer to it. Standing nearby was someone you had a murky recollection of from the boarding line.

All that was left now was to wait. 

~

Damian bit back a growl as a large man shoved him back into Jon and forced his way farther up the line. 

“That’s not getting him anywhere,” Jon muttered. He was half-hoping his powers would spontaneously come back and help them out. “What’s the point?” Damian shook his head.

“If people made sense, Jon, we’d be out of work.” Jon rolled his eyes. 

“You’re hilarious.” 

Damian chuckled lowly, pulling his carry-on bag from the overhead storage, then Jon’s. 

“Damn it.” 

A jolt of panic sliced through Jon. His head snapped towards Damian, eyes wide. Jon winced, massaging the back of his neck. That hurt.

“What?” 

“We lost them.” He nodded towards the front of the plane. You were gone. 

“Shit.”

As much as he wanted to get off the plane, Jon wouldn’t have pushed through the other passengers even with powers at full strength. Especially with powers at full strength. He followed the movement of the crowd as they exited the gate, coming to a stop just beside a stand selling Philadelphia hoodies and t-shirts. Jon eyed them with a not small amount of disdain. He’d pass. 

“So we’re not taking another plane-” Damian began. 

“Oh fuck no,” Jon interrupted. 

“Why do you think I started with ‘we’re not’?” 

“Right,” Jon could feel his cheeks heating. “I knew that.” 

“Hnn. So could it be worthwhile to call someone now? It’s past 9:30, your family should be up. Of mine, Alfred at the very least will be awake at this hour.”

“What’s the other option?”

“We take another method of public transport to Gotham and have Alfred pick us up there.” 

Jon thought about it for a moment. Then he thought of you. His hearing was past the point of awful fluctuation, but not good enough to hear across a crowded airport. And he didn’t know your heartbeat. It was a weird thought. Jon thought about it again. That was a weird thought too. But it had been a long time since he’d gotten to know someone without being able to hear their heartbeat. 

“Do we know what they’re doing? I don’t think we even talked about it. But I don’t want to leave them alone after all this.” He paused. “That’s not weird, right?” 

Damian shook his head. 

“No, I agree. Which means your family is out. And waiting for Alfred to drive all the way here and then asking them to get into a car with a complete stranger for two hours is also less than ideal.”

“So public transport it is.” Jon concluded. “Wait, how do we even know they aren’t taking another plane?” Damian smirked. 

“They don’t call us the world's greatest detectives for nothing.”

Jon narrowed his eyes at Damian. “You guessed.” 

“I formed a hunch based on multiple deductions,” Damian retorted, arms crossed.

“So you guessed.” 

“Deduction and guesswork are two different things.” 

“Uh huh,” Jon smiled and started heading to the help desk. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The help desk employee guaranteed Damian that the vouchers would be emailed and attached to his airline account. Based on the look on his face, Damian couldn’t care less about them. Jon wanted to hurry up and find you too. But he also didn’t want to be booked into the nearest flight to Gotham. Until he got his powers back in full, Jon wasn’t doing any flying whatsoever, much less flying that involved any sort of metal contraptions. 

“Which baggage claim is for this flight?” Damian asked before he stepped away. The airline employee checked her screen. 

“Three, but I don’t believe bags have started arriving yet.” 

Damian nodded and headed quickly towards the signs leading towards the baggage claim area. 

“Thanks!” Jon threw out as he followed, sneakers squealing against the linoleum floor as he hurried to catch up. 

[papurgaatika]

Knead Me, Need You

Pairing: Massage Therapist! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: you were overworked, overstressed, and long overdue to get a massage. You just didn’t realize that getting one would come with a very good-looking massage therapist or the thoughts that filled your mind every time he touched you Tags: no outbreak AU, massage therapist! Joel, no reader desc. Gentle Joel, dirty thoughts, Joel is a tease, the reader is pent up as HELL, mentions of fingering, no actual sex, LOTS of sexual tension, pet names (darlin’ and sweetheart are used), Appreciation for Joel's arms, 18+ Word count: 2.7k

A/N: I very desperately need to get a massage and woke up from a dream about it so there’s that!! Also a huge lovely shoutout and thank you to my wonderful beta readers (@joelsdagger @carlynkurin and my lovely Laur) who have saved me from making the weirdest grammar mistakes and also fuel me with comments such as “IM (S)CREAMING” yall are real ones xoxo

Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! 🇵🇸

You hate your job. Okay, that wasn’t true. You don't hate your job, you just hate the commute. And sitting at your desk all day. And the fact that you always decide that heels look better with your outfits. So you didn't really hate your job, you loved being in charge, but your back was paying the price for it. Everyone in your life has heard you complain about your back hurting at least once. Some of your coworkers had found you with a stash of the stick-on heating patches in your desk and that led to the office pitching in to get you a certificate to one of the nicest spas in the area for your birthday. 

You weren’t sure if you would use it, you barely had time to sit down and fully wash your face. How were you supposed to relax for a full hour and a half with some stranger touching you? The answer came to you one Saturday when you rolled out of bed and could barely stand because of a crick in your lower back. A groan falls from your lips before you throw yourself back onto your bed and grab your phone, making quick work of dialing the number on the back of the voucher. You let out a sigh of relief when the receptionist tells you they have availability later in the afternoon, and you tell her you’d take the appointment. You’re just about to hang up before her voice comes through your speaker again “Oh, and just to let you know, your therapist will be male, is that okay?” 

You freeze for a second. On one hand, you didn’t love the idea of some random man touching you, especially considering it was a full-body massage. But on the other hand, you really didn't have a choice, your back was going to give out if you waited any longer. You mumbled out a quick “That’s fine, thank you!” before hanging up and making your way up to change your clothes. You decide to opt for something more casual, before grabbing your keys and wallet and heading out of the house. 

This place was fancy. Like much fancier than you had expected and suddenly your outfit felt too casual and you missed your heels. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you filled out the forms they gave you. No, you haven’t had a massage before, yes you wanted to focus specifically on your back, and you weren’t sure how much pressure you wanted. You hand the clipboard back to the receptionist with a smile and she lets you know that he’s just about finished with his last client and he’ll come back for you in just a few minutes. Your knee is bouncing of its own accord, nerves finally kicking in. You are about to be naked in front of a man who is then going to rub his hands into you. Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that it’s his job. He does this all day, five days a week. You keep reminding yourself that it’s just a massage, you’ll be okay. You finally start to believe that, nerves dissipating and your heart settling back to its resting rate, and then you see him. 

He’s all broad shoulders and a kind smile walking out to the main area, before turning in your direction, and your mind blanks for a minute to fully take in how attractive this man is. His arms were gorgeous and you couldn’t take your eyes off of them. His t-shirt was pulled tightly over his bicep, riding up just enough to let you see a peek of skin that was untouched from the Texas sun. His arms were thick, the muscles defined and prominent, veins standing out against the smooth skin. You were enraptured watching his arms move as he signed off on some papers and grabbed the clipboard with your forms on it. Images of his thick fingers in unspeakable positions flooded your mind; tugging at your hair while his other hand was on your hip, dragging over your lips and pushing them into your mouth, letting them curl into your aching cunt while he holds you down. 

You were lost in your thoughts until his voice was saying your name and pulling you out of your depravity. You smile at him shyly and stand up to shake his hand “I’m Joel, and I'll be your masseuse for today, it’s a pleasure to meet you darlin’.” if you thought that he was attractive before, hearing that accent made you weak in the knees. The slow drawl of his words was smooth like honey and sent butterflies straight to your core. He takes the paperwork from the receptionist and gives it a quick scan before tutting at you lightly. “Overworkin’ yourself? Don’t worry, I'll take good care of you today.” You feel your face start to heat up as you follow him back through the halls into his room. You stepped inside to be met with a dim warm light, and soft music playing through a speaker. 

“So is this your first time coming in for a massage?” he asks, half leaning against the door. 

“Is it that obvious?” you half laugh, heat rising in the back of your neck. You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes locked on his. He laughed softly with a shake of his head and you think you might die on the spot. It’s so unfortunate that he’s so hot. 

“No, darlin’ it said it on one of those forms they had you fill out, I just wanted to go over how it all works with you.” you nod and look up at the man, waiting for him to go on, “I know it said you wanted to focus on your back, do you mind goin’ a little bit into why?” 

You sigh and press a hand into your lower back, “So I sit at work a lot, and granted my posture isn’t great, but I woke up this morning and it was worse than it had ever been” You tell him about your job, about being overworked, about your stupid half hour commute. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, only dropping to flick over your waist for a moment, and then back onto yours. 

He lets you explain where exactly you were hurting before he glances at his watch and lets you know that you should get started sooner rather than later. “Just go ahead and get dressed down to your comfort level and then just lay down with your face in the cradle sweetheart. I’ll knock before coming back in and then we can get started.” You smile and give him a nod, taking a deep breath once the door shuts after him. You make haste to strip down and fold your clothes leaving them in a little pile on a shelf, leaving your panties on much too aware of the wetness that was pooling into them. You grab your phone and lay down on the table, scrolling through your email and replying to a few new ones from your coworkers, knowing fully well that they can barely get things done without you. 

A knock on the door breaks you out of your thoughts and you let out a small noise of acknowledgment that you were ready, slightly hesitant. You watch as Joel opens the door and steps in, eyes immediately flicking to your phone. “Can’t have that out darlin’, this is your time to relax” he says gently, grabbing your phone and setting it down on the shelf next to your clothes. “I’m sure work can wait.'' He shoots you a wink and your face feels flushed. You let your face fall into the cradle, eyes shutting before you feel his hands grazing your body over the sheet slowly. He’s barely touching you, his touch is feather-light, so why do you feel like your body is on fire? His fingers make small circles on your scalp as his thumbs press gently into the base of your neck. Your eyelids flutter softly, the pressure he was applying immediately melting away your stress. His fingers work on your neck, not pressing too hard but not so soft that it wouldn’t help at all. You feel him work in the same place for a few minutes to get rid of a knot, likely from staring down at your phone or hunching over your computer all day, before he takes his hands away. 

“Alright sweetheart I'm gonna move the sheet and start on your back, if that’s alright,” you nod into the face rest, letting out a deep breath when his hands hit your skin. You figured his hands would be as strong as the rest of him looks but he was surprisingly gentle and warm. The smell of roses and sandalwood fills your nose as his hands press softly between your shoulder blades. You let out a soft sigh when his fingers dig into your skin “That pressure alright darlin’?”

You manage to mumble out a weak “yes” and let your eyes fall shut again. You don't know why he’s doing this to you, why this man is making you all hot and bothered while he just does his job, but he is. His hands feel like heaven on your lower back, fingers creating circles to try and get a particularly nasty knot out right above your tailbone. A sound leaves your mouth, a little too close to a whimper for your liking and you feel the blood rush to your face but Joel doesn’t even mention it. 

“You're real tense sweetheart, it’s a wonder you didn't have to come in before today” he mutters as his fingers work their way back up your spine. A trail of goosebumps follows after his touch as your back almost arches into his hands. Almost. You catch yourself at the last moment, sparing yourself from what would be the most embarrassing experience of your life and would also likely get you banned from the spa, which would truly be painful because lord, did Joel know how to use his hands on you. His fingers were soft yet somehow held just the right amount of strength in them to work your pain away, the way the heels of his palms would dig into your skin when he focused on a specific area, he was just too good at this and it was making you a little bit crazy. 

Your eyes were still shut, your body more relaxed than it had ever been when you heard him tell you to flip over so he could work on your legs. In your half-asleep state, you seem to have forgotten that moving too fast will not only make your head spin but will also make the sheet covering you drop. You managed to catch it and pull it over your chest, eyes wide and staring at him. “Oh my god I'm so sorry-” you start but he cuts you off with a shake of his head before clearing his throat. 

“‘s alright sweetheart” his eyes flick down to where you were clutching the sheet. Your breasts were spilling out of the top almost obscenely, a small sheen of sweat from the warmth of the table (and his hands) covering your skin. “Just lay back down, ‘m gonna work on those legs now.” He turns to grab the oil again, and you weren’t certain because of the dim lighting in the room, but you could have sworn there was a light blush dusting his cheeks. You lay down with your head in the rest, still clutching the sheet at your chest before he takes it out of your hands and brings it over your chest fully, leaving just your collarbone and neck exposed. He moves to a corner before picking up a bolster to put under your knees to prop them up slightly. 

You let your eyes fall shut as you feel his hands skim your calf. You bite back a gasp when his hands, god his hands are huge, encompass your ankle and bring it up out of the sheet, bending it at your knee slightly. You wet your lips with your tongue and find your mouth drier than it had ever been as he moves your leg into a good position for him, your calf almost grazing his chest. You feel yourself clench around nothing and feel your panties dampen at the closeness of him. He lets your foot down, tucking the sheet under your hip so that it doesn't slip out from under you, and you can feel your heartbeat everywhere. His fingers were so strong yet so gentle on your calf, rubbing out the tightness in your legs.  As his fingers made their way further up your leg you felt like you were on fire. His hands were pressing into the muscles, nails softly tracing against your inner thigh and it made you feel weak. You couldn’t get the image of those same fingers the ones that were trying to help you relax, rubbing circles over your clit or digging into your hips as he held you in place, out of your mind. It was filthy really, how pent-up you were. How depraved the thoughts you were having about this man, this stranger, were, but you couldn’t help the wetness pooling between your legs from growing.  He presses into a specifically sore spot, dragging something between a yelp and moan from your lips. “I'm so sorry-” your words were quiet, barely audible over the light music he had playing in the room. “Don't worry about it sweetheart, just means I’m doing my job right” he was fucking with you. He had to know what he was doing to you. Had to know that while he was working on the muscles of your legs, you wanted those strong fingers inside of you, talking you through orgasm after orgasm with that sweet southern voice. 

You close your eyes again, trying to stabilize your heart rate and keep it from pounding out of your chest “Alright sweetheart, I'm gonna wipe you off and then I’m sorry to say, but we are done for the session” You nod your head before feeling the warmth of a hot towel wipe against your legs, attempting to brush the idea of him wiping you up after pumping you full of his cum out of your mind. You take a few deep breaths before he turns the lights up slowly, letting you adjust to the change. “Alright, I'm gonna step out and grab you some water. I’ll meet you up by the front darlin’” You smile at him and say thank you before moving to change into your clothes, knees slightly wobbly from just thinking about him. Your panties are embarrassingly wet when you stand up, and you press your face into your hands trying to shake this out of your system.

You manage to step out of the room without having your knees give out,  eyes still slightly blurry from being half asleep through the whole appointment, and walk back out to the reception. You blink a few times, adjusting to the much brighter lighting, and see Joel waiting for you with a cup of water. “Pleasure working on ya sweetheart, I hope I’ll see you again soon” You take the water and say your thank you to him before watching him walk back into the backroom, and oh my god was his butt always that cute? 

You turn back to the receptionist with a smile, when she asks how the session went. “Good, yeah no everything was amazing” You bite on the inside of your cheek softly, the ghost of his fingers still on your skin. You get checked out, making sure to give him a hell of a tip and book another session with him in a few weeks. You take his card and twirl it around your fingers as you sit in your car. Joel Miller- Licensed Massage Therapist- Austin, TX. It was going to be a long hard few weeks without seeing him, but you had some ideas on how to keep yourself, and that dull ache in the pit of your stomach occupied, and every single one of them included thinking about Joel Miller and his fingers. 

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.  Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[quaranmine]

https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2023/09/22/us-braces-calamitous-costly-government-shutdown-eight-days/

Hey, just a heads up--

A (US) government shutdown is pretty imminent right now. They have until September 30 to pass any sort of budget to keep funding the government, but congress has been unable to come to any decisions or compromises. Typically what happens each year on Sept 30 is Congress will pass a continuing resolution (a temporary budget) to buy a month or two to keep arguing about it. This year, they haven't been able to pass even that. McCarthy has sent the House members home for the weekend already, which means they will have even less time next week to figure something out.

So, what happens during a government shutdown? Some parts of the government--deemed essential--will keep operating. Please be nice to these employees, because they will be working without pay. Fortunately a bill passed in 2019 means they are guaranteed to be paid at the end of the shutdown, but still. Thousands of other federal employees will be furloughed and not allowed to work. For hundreds of thousands of employees, they will struggle to pay bills.

What about everybody else, the public being served? Broadly speaking, tons of grants and projects and research and environmental reviews and loans and services will be halted and delayed. Most significantly though:

SSA will continue to issue retirement and disability checks, as well as Medicaid/Medicare benefits. There might be delays, especially in new signups.

FEMA will continue to offer disaster relief and aid, but may run out of funds if the shutdown continues.

Thousands of low income parents will lose access to Head Start programs and childcare programs.

FDA food safety inspections, as well as other safety inspections (including worker safety), may be delayed

Mail delivery continues, as the US Postal Service is independently funded.

Food stamps, housing vouchers, and college financial aid may lapse if the shutdown lasts beyond October. The longest shutdown in US history was in 2018, for 35 days. This one is probably unlikely to be that long, but if it is, people may lose access to these programs.

WIC will only be able to operate for a few days after the shutdown, leaving millions of pregnant people, infants, and children at risk of going hungry.

Weather forcasting, air traffic control, TSA, etc will continue (though the employees won't be paid)

Hopefully a shutdown will be averted, but it's far more likely this year than other years. If you are in a position to be affected by a lapse in government services, I would recommend keeping up with the news so that it doesn't hit you as a surprise. Ultimately I can make no real predictions for how it will turn out or which things will be affected, but I hope this helps.

[beehaiku]

🇵🇸 Palestine Aid 🇵🇸

on the ground in Gaza: food, water, & shelter

-Taawon: a nonprofit running a campaign providing food parcels, water, shopping vouchers, and tents in Gaza

-World Food Programme: UN branch providing food in shelters and camps

-Life for Gaza: Gaza municipality’s fund to rebuild vital infrastructure such as roads, waste collection, and water projects

-Arab Group for the Protection of Nature’s Revive Gaza Farmlands Project: APN’s project to replant farmlands to reestablish a source of food

-Care for Gaza: organization working to provide displaced families in Gaza with food parcels and cash

-Palestine Children’s Relief Fund’s Gaza Relief and Recovery Plan: PCRF’s campaign to provide food, water, and essential medical supplies and treatment

-Mutual Aid for the People of Gaza: Mona Abu Hamda uses the money from this fund to purchase and distribute food parcels and other basic supplies

-UNRWA: UN organization providing assistance to Palestinian refugees

on the ground in Gaza: medical aid

-Medical Aid for Palestine: provides medical aid and supports healthcare services in Gaza

-Gaza Wound Care: a medical team in a tent in Nuseirat providing care to children and pregnant women

-Children Not Numbers: a non-governmental organization focused on providing medical aid and medical evacuation for children

eSims

-Gaza eSims provides a guide and links for buying eSims and will connect your purchase to someone in need

personal fundraisers

-Funds for Gaza: rotating collection, pick a fundraiser from a vetted list

-Gaza Funds: picks a vetted fundraiser for you based on urgency and how close it is to the goal

-@/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi on Tumblr’s vetted fundraiser list allows you to confirm a fundraiser is legitimate

[astriiformes]

Going to cry a little in bittersweet relief -- I was finally able to get a voucher refund for the plane tickets I'd booked for Scribe and I to go to London a few years ago. The trip just hasn't been feasible with her health and our finances, and I've been perpetually rescheduling the flights ever since in a frustrating Sisyphean effort that has really rubbed salt in the wound.

No idea when I'll actually be able to use the voucher, given, well, everything but it's nice that it's no longer hanging over me as "cancelled plans" and instead has turned into "a nice trip to Europe, sometime when I can make it work" that I can keep in my back pocket and hopefully use to visit friends someday.

[viewwrangler]

I mean ... that's an interesting approach, to put it mildly

CrowdStrike to vendors: Sorry for the global tech outage. Here’s a $10 Uber Eats voucher Analysis by Elisabeth Buchwald, CNN Updated 7:17 PM EDT, Wed July 24, 2024

A single CrowdStrike bug sent the entire tech world into chaos last week — a snafu some companies (see: Delta) are still recovering from. Third-party agents selling and supporting CrowdStrike software and the complicated repairs for customers have been a miserably busy bunch over the past week.

CrowdStrike’s token of appreciation for those vendors: a $10 Uber Eats voucher. We’re not kidding....

We finally know what caused the global tech outage - and how much it cost By Brian Fung, CNN 4 minute read Updated 7:30 PM EDT, Wed July 24, 2024

Insurers have begun calculating the financial damage caused by last week’s devastating CrowdStrike software glitch that crashed computers, canceled flights and disrupted hospitals all around the globe — and the picture isn’t pretty.

What’s been described as the largest IT outage in history will cost Fortune 500 companies alone more than $5 billion in direct losses, according to one insurer’s analysis of the incident published Wednesday.

The new figures put into stark relief how a single automated software update brought much of the global economy to a sudden halt — revealing the world’s overwhelming dependence on a key cybersecurity company — and what it will take to recover....

And that's only the Fortune 500 they're talking about. There are myriad smaller businesses that use Crowdstrike that were affected as well. The companies hit by the buggy release were also far broader than just the "tech world".

Not sure that an Uber Eats coupon will be regarded as sufficient recompense for a week that could have cost millions of dollars, somehow.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"RELIEF RECIPIENTS HAIL MEAT VOUCHER," Toronto Star. April 11, 1934. Page 2. --- Say It Gives Them Variety, Although Quantity Still Low ---- The long silent queues of men and women at the Dundas St. and Spadina Ave. relief station to-day were quietly jubilant about the new meat voucher which came into force to-day.

"All you could get before," said one mother of four children to The Star, "was stew, stew, stew, until you could almost se stew in your face."

A man who has been supporting a family of four for seven months told The Star, "the old system was absolutely rotten and so was the meat, and you had to take it."

"I have lived on pot roast since ports Dec. 13," said a man who supports his mother out of his relief allowance.

All persons at the depot agreed that this change would give them hack a measure of self-respect, not allowed under the system by which supplies are handed out arbitrarily. The mothers of families were particularly delighted at the prospect of being able to obtain meat of their own choice.

"I have been feeding my family stewing and roast meat for three days each week," said the mother of three children. "Now I may get fish-for a change-thank goodness."

A widow with four children who has been on relief for six months said: "It's going to be wonderful. I didn't like the butcher store or the butcher. I guess a person could do with some steak for a change."

"I am going to buy pork chops" one of the first men to receive hi voucher declared. "The amount of meat I can buy for 30 cents, for my wife and myself, only lasts for two meals, so I might as well have some. thing I like," he remarked. "As far as vegetables are concerned, what can you buy for 30 cents?

Only Gives Two Meals Another man said he usually bought his meat on Saturday night so he and his wife could have a good meal on Sunday.

"You do not need any ice box to keep the amount of meat you get." he said. "It only gives us two meals, no matter what kind of meat we get, but it will give us a change, now that we can buy what we like. I think I'll buy fish. I haven't had fish for a long time. As far as vegetables are concerned, there weren't much choice. You can't buy potatoes because you don't get enough for 30 cents. I will stick to cabbage, car- rots and so on."

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Students pursuing a bachelor of science in nursing at satellite nursing sites in Gander, Grand Falls-Windsor and Happy Valley-Goose Bay can get a $2,000 tuition subsidy each semester for the first two years of the program, for a total of $8,000 in subsidies.

Practical nursing students enrolled at the College of North Atlantic in Happy Valley-Goose Bay, St. Anthony, Burin, Gander, Bay St. George, Clarenville, Carbonear, Corner Brook or Grand Falls-Windsor can get $1,000 for each of the five semesters of the program, for a total of $5,000 in subsidies.

Meanwhile, practical students at the Centre for Nursing Studies in St. John's campus could get $500 for each of the five semesters of the program, for a total of $2,500 in tuition relief.

Osborne said the vouchers are for anyone enrolled in the nursing programs, not just students from N.L.

Continue Reading

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[joels6string]

More Than My Father's Son

Joel Miller x f!OC

Chapter 3 - A Helping Hand

Summary: Settling in Jackson has proved far more difficult than you originally imagined.

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.2k

Content: NSFW, high levels of violence normal to the TLOU world, angst, fluff, slow burn, miscommunication trope (it’s Joel Miller…), Joel’s traumatic childhood, getting together, eventual smut, canon divergence after SLC, fix-it fic

“I had asked you,” you continued, voice shaking and hollow as the scar on the side of your leg began to twinge, “for one thing…and you didn’t—“ “You’re damn right I didn’t! I have lost enough,” his tone was hard and unwavering, unapologetic but desperate, “I don’t need any more blood on my hands.”

Chapter 2 || Series Masterlist

What exactly did it mean to acclimate? Was it an actual change that slowly rippled through your body and psyche alike rewriting scripts and forging new paths to lead you to new emotions, new experiences, a new life? Or was it simply taking the old and shoving it behind a door, your new reality boarding it up with whatever small blockades it could find to keep the past at bay? Every slam of it against the feeble barrier threatening to send you rappelling into ruin. That’s what it felt like. 

Tommy and Maria had agreed to let you out on patrol with one catch, you spend half your required working time training up the patrolmen on what Tommy had referred to as a “dying art.” Three days a week you rode through the paths of the mountains that still felt more like home than the four walls that housed you, the other two or three dragging along as you tried to harness what little patience your frame contained to help the hopeless with the collection of bows and quivers that went unused in the armory. 

“No,” you sighed, stomping over to a kid that couldn’t be more than 17 and lifting his elbow, “you’ll go straight into the ground.”

“Sorry…” he mumbled, guilt joining your agitation, the dark clouds rolling in representing your souring mood just as much as the storm you’d been warned about this morning. 

“Pack it up!” Maria called, relief flooding you as she stopped beside you, “Not you.”

As much as Maria Miller was trying to become a friend, she was also the leader of Jackson, although she hated the title. Maria made decisions when she had to and never more, leaving the residents of the town to figure out as much on their own without risking anarchy, the rules established long ago and abided by without much resistance. On most days, she felt like an equal, but when it was time for business it was made very clear. Her face hardened, spine straightened, and her intonation sharpened, it made your stomach drop to the dirt.

“When’s the last time you went to the market?” she asked, arms crossed over her chest, “Joel says you haven’t been by. And Indy told Tommy you gave her your voucher last week.”

“Tommy gave me a bunch—“ you began, but Maria’s hand shooting into the air snapped your lips shut. 

“We gave you enough for a week, maybe two. It’s been almost a month.”

And you still had more than half of it left. Although your fresh produce was eaten quickly so as not to waste it, the meat had gone untouched and the dried goods were used sparingly, meticulously rationed and stored for longevity. As Maria awaited a response you wouldn’t give her, the words you knew she’d respond with echoed in your ears. You’re not out there anymore. 

“Go see Joel,” she finally conceded in your silence, “He wants his freezer back.”

If Joel wasn’t at the Tipsy Bison, he’d wait another day. Your stomach had yet to adjust to the food that was served, but scotch was something that had always gone down easy. The fire at the back of your throat was a comforting heat, that warmth radiating out from your belly to your fingers and loosening tension you always seemed to forget was there. 

“When are you gonna pay this tab, Deacon?” Seth growled as he slid a second your way, the almost empty bar quiet enough to almost welcome his attempts at debt collection.

“Here ya go,” the sound of a plan backfiring drawled from your left, “Should cover it.”

The stool creaked beneath his weight as he took a seat, the glass perched between your fingers no longer feeling like a chalice of relief as Seth hummed in approval at Joel’s currency of choice. 

“Fan of venison, Seth?” you taunted before draining your glass, sucking air through your teeth as you passed it back to him, “Trade ya.”

“He’s got more than enough to cover it,” Joel growled, Seth’s gaze sliding over menacingly to find an unwavering hazel stare only a fool would argue with, “You drink too much.”

“How would you know?”

“Cause I just paid your debt.”

“Technically I paid…”

“Technically.”

The silence, it was always so easy. Maybe it was because you both enjoyed it, that had already been established. The confidence of familiarity was a balm. This mutual respect born from the instinct to survive had morphed into whatever sat heavy in the inches separating your body from his, a constant weight that was both comforting and tangible. 

“You got a haircut,” you finally chimed, enjoying the way the lines around his eyes deepened as he furrowed his brow. 

“Yeah,” his voice practically vibrated in your chest, “Better than doin’ it myself.”

“I like it when it’s longer.” 

He paused, your statement catching him off guard and derailing his intentions. You were looking just as thin as you were a month ago while both he and Ellie had packed on a few healthy pounds. The purple beneath your eyes was still dark and your skin sallow, and he hadn’t been the only one to notice. 

“Ellie says there ain’t shit to eat at your place.”

Was everyone watching you? 

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not hosting a dinner party anytime soon,” you replied, eyes focused forward though you could feel his own fixated on your face. 

“Funny you mention that. Ellie insists you come by tonight, she found herself a cookbook. Tommy and Maria’ll be there too.”

“My ceiling leaks. So, might have to accept.”

“It what?”

The change in his face wasn’t subtle. His body went rigid as his attention snapped entirely to you, the speed at which he moved causing you to flinch and your eyes turn to find the source of his alertness. Then, you realized it was you. 

“My ceiling leaks. It’s not a huge deal,” you brushed off, remembering the first summer rain that had woken you from a rare deep sleep a few days after moving in, “it’s just upstairs. I sleep on the cou—“

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, “Why the hell are you livin’ in a house with a leaking roof?”

Because it had been more than anything you’d been given before. Misery hadn’t turned you around on the map to gratitude as you’d begun navigating this new, disorienting life. The same four walls welcomed you home every night, gates and guards protecting a space you didn’t fear the people walking between like the ones before it. You’d smiled here, laughed, and despite your instance that you didn’t belong, the residents of Jackson had done nothing but prove you wrong at every turn. If the roof leaked, then so be it. 

“I didn’t know who to ask,” you answered after a pause, just needing something to say, and you immediately regretted it the moment his nostrils flared. 

“Me!” He sounded almost offended that it needed to be stated, “You ain’t eatin’, I’d bet my last dollar you ain’t sleepin’—“

“Yeah well, you don’t have a dollar so…”

Every muscle fiber in his body twitched with the urge to walk the hell away from you until the forests captured in the color of your eyes welcomed him home again. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he muttered, getting a drink of his own from Seth who still lingered close by, “Put this on her new tab.”

The amber liquid burned on the way down, igniting the fire kindling in his belly further. Muscle defined the freckle-dusted stretch of your arms, the tank top you wore snug across your torso, and your hair hung down from the half-braided updo you sported like a curtain cascading down your shoulders. You looked tense enough to snap, did he piss you off that bad? 

“Hey Joel,” a voice too sweet called out from the door, his attention snapping instantly over to a woman you had yet to be introduced to, “Tommy needs you. Horde.”

“God damnit.”

“Maria is going to see Ellie.”

“Alright then.”

He felt you leave before he saw it, the rush of air your quick departure blew against his back had his attention snapping from Francine in front of him to you storming out of the door. The way your fiery locks stood in stark contrast to the darkened skies like an eternal flame, not even the rain pouring from the skies enough to snuff you out. 

“Ready?” Francine asked after an awkward pause, her voice wary and confused.

“Yeah,” he grunted, pouring a second glass Seth had clearly sensed was necessary back in a single toss before venturing into the downpour.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. 

Finally, those kitchen pots had a purpose. Enshrouded in the dark that had settled over the town, you sat on the edge of the bed, your eyes following each droplet of water as it plunked down against the metal, each pop immersing you back to a more familiar world. The putrid smell of the damp underground tunnels you’d found yourself crawling through more often than you’d liked transported you back, a shiver shooting up your spine as the reminder of the bone-chilling cold and decaying remnants of a world long-dead burrowed in your chest. 

It was like a siren song the way that curved bow of wood sang out from the night. It sat right beside your back door, your hands aching to feel its taut string and tattered quiver. If the rain soaked you to the bone, at least you had a healthy supply of dry clothes to put on upon your return home. And a hot shower. 

Your boots squeaked along with the old stairs as you stampeded down, a clap of thundering masking the slam of your door against the siding as you ran out into the rain, the drops cooling your sweat-slicked skin. The air was heavy and humid, the petrichor filling your nostrils so comforting you contemplated bottling it up and saving it for the next episode of melancholy that overtook you. 

Upon moving in, Joel had somehow ensured a few bales of hay made it to your backyard. With the first fire of your bolt into the dense, compacted grass, you were reminded you had yet to thank him for that. It was too late for it now. 

Within minutes you were soaked to the skin, your clothes clinging to your body in ways that felt too familiar and too pleasant. This shouldn’t be satisfying, but the flashes of lightning across the sky illuminating the mountainscape before your eyes welcomed you into its treacherous embrace. 

Even through the pouring rain and booming thunder, you heard the crunch of a rock beneath a boot, your own feet too solidly planted to be the culprit. Your hand shot to your belt as you whirled, the blade of your knife mere centimeters away from a figure kept hidden by the darkness. When a white-hot blaze seared across the landscape again, the hazel eyes you’d seen haunting your dreams boring down on you flared, his expression nothing short of perturbed by his current predicament. 

“Why do you have that?” he asked with an air of annoyance, his rough, calloused fingers plucking the weapon free from your iron grip.

“Never know,” you snapped, turning your attention back to the collection of arrows accumulating in your target, “Why are you here?”

“Walkin’ home.”

“Your house is closer to the stables than mine.”

“I took the long way.”

The arrow’s song as it soared through the air broke the silence that had reclaimed the space, and despite his intrusion, it wasn’t lost on you that your grip was slightly more relaxed, your jaw less tense. 

“Lemme look at the ceiling,” he sighed, your fingers freezing as they ran along the feathers perched between them. 

“It’s fine,” you lied, knowing the pot you’d used to catch the droplets was probably near full, “I’m already soaked.”

“Your god damn roof leaks—“

“I don’t care!”

He’d begun to close distance, the way his sodden T-shirt stuck to his body not lost on you as you dared a peek through the corners of your eyes. When he pulled the bow from your hand, you didn’t protest, instead widening the crevice left between you into a canyon as you approached the edge of your yard and plucked each arrow free carefully. The heads were still dry, the innermost layers of the bricks of hay still dry, unaffected by what was happening at the surface. 

“Why don’t you go inside and dry off?” he suggested, this time you hadn’t heard him approach.

“I prefer it out here,” you replied.

“I’m startin’ to pick up on that.”

“Aren’t you perceptive?”

That quip had his face hardening. His nostrils flared before his palm swallowed his chin and mouth, his attempts to regulate his irritation failing. It had been weeks since you’d spoken to him, hell you’d barely held a conversation with him since you got here, and he hated how much that bothered him. He’d kept up with you through Ellie, and even she’d grown worried. When the initial shock of settling here had worn off, it had been replaced with something far more sinister. Something everyone had come to find concern in.

“Go eat somethin’” he sighed, “I brought you food—”

“For fucks sake,” you muttered beneath your breath, “Just give it up already.”

“Give what up?” His voice thundered along with the skies. “We ain’t out there anymore! Stop acting like it!”

“I’m not your responsibility anymore!”

“I just wanna help—“

“I never asked for your help, Joel!”

From the moment you’d fired that arrow off to land between his feet as he approached the building you’d been hidden in, you’d never asked him for help. It was Ellie that had insisted you tag along, and who were you to give a kid the weight of guilt to carry? You were burdened enough by it, saving her from that had been worth any cost. So every time he’d offered to keep you going, to find you a better place to settle, you’d accepted. And that landed you here, in a house you knew nothing about leading a life you were ill-suited for. 

There was an undeniable tug you felt towards the man standing three feet away, staring at you with confusion and apprehension. It terrified you. The way your eyes shot around your empty bedroom searching for him when you woke with a scream and how your fingers brushed over his neat handwriting in the patrol logs; it made you want to run. You just couldn’t be sure in which direction. 

“I had asked you,” you continued, voice shaking and hollow as the scar on the side of your leg began to twinge, “for one thing…and you didn’t—“

“You’re damn right I didn’t! I have lost enough,” his tone was hard and unwavering, unapologetic but desperate, “I don’t need any more blood on my hands.”

“Am I your penance then? The balm to your scathed conscience? Fix me and you’re absolved of your sins?”

“It ain’t like that…”

“It is exactly like that. You should have left me where you found me.”

It was like a knife to his chest. Your face was unreadable, hardened like stone, the night too dark to see if that flicker of vulnerability was sparkling in your eye. He’d seen it before. But even that might not have been enough to convince him that your words had been a lie. 

“No,” was all he gave, it was all he needed to say, and when your mouth opened to retort he was already prepping to stop you in your tracks. 

“What are you two knuckleheads doin’ out in the rain?” Tommy’s lighthearted voice sliced through the tension, both of your shoulders relaxing as he came into view, “You know there’s a whole house behind ya?”

“I was just going in,” you answered, eyes still locked on Joel, his not willing to lose whatever battle of wills you’d entered. 

“Well, before you do, be ready at 0700 tomorrow. Both of you. We’re cleanin’ up.”

“Cleaning up what?”

“Oh, you didn’t tell her?”

No. Joel had somehow forgotten about the horde of 60 he and Tommy had stumbled upon. Not that informing you of that was why he’d come here in the first place. He listened as Tommy filled you in, begging your face to change, the corners of your lips to lift even slightly, any hint that the rage you’d been hurling at him had subsided. But you gave him nothing, simply nodding at Tommy’s instructions to be at the stables and leaving him to dwell on this exchange overnight. 

“What’s the deal with you and her anyway?” Tommy inquired with a mischievous lilt as the light of your bedroom began to glow.

“How do you mean?” Maybe playing dumb would work. 

“I ain’t ever seen you so smitten before.”

The reaction was too over the top, Joel knew it and Tommy certainly did. A theatrical wave of the hand and too loud a scoff was telling, Tommy’s smirk signaling the failure of his ability to keep the lid on whatever was brewing and ready to burst. 

“The hell are you on about?” Joel snapped, just because he had given himself away didn’t mean he had to admit it. 

“Oh c’mon Joel, I’ve known you most of your life. You think I can’t pick up on a thing or two?” 

“Boy, you forget I’ve done all this already?”

“Please. We both know Rebecca wasn’t real. That was obligation. This is somethin’ different.”

Ire blossomed across his cheeks, that wasn’t a name he ever wanted to hear again. It didn’t matter that the wounds she’d left behind were over three decades old, they’d never quite scabbed over, the slightest scrape enough to reopen them entirely and send blood oozing over every clean surface he’d been able to wipe the evidence free from. 

“Don’t…” Joel cautioned, malice thick in his gruff timbre.

“You brought her all the way here,” Tommy pressed, “Why?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Because you feel somethin’. That’s why.”

Your silhouette caught the corner of his eye, the curtains maintaining your privacy as he watched you pace past the window. He could practically feel your anxiety, the urge to storm in and quiet these demons that ran rampant in your head quelled by your final words to him. 

You should have left me where you found me.

“Tell me the ground doesn’t feel more solid beneath those boots when she’s around.” Tommy’s insistence was only making this worse, harder to ignore. 

“I ain’t listenin’ to this,” he sneered, it was his turn to run now, “You got your happy white picket life. Don’t shove it on me.”

“Shove what? God forbid you be content for a god damn moment of your life, right? Can’t be Joel anymore if you crack a fuckin’ smile.”

“That’s enough.”

Tommy’s hands went up in surrender, but Joel was well aware the war was far from over. In the years after Rebecca, he’d done the same thing, attempts at hooking Joel up with the women that threw themselves at him, each date ending in disaster until he’d finally put a stop to it. He hated that Tommy might finally be right this time, the ground did feel more solid when he found himself wandering through your gaze, the weight of you clinging to his torso a comfort he’d come to miss. 

“Her ceiling leaks,” Joel parted with as he turned, his bed calling him in from the rain, “Fix it.”

Chapter 4

[arabaka]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ reigen arataka x (fem)hostess! reader. CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ !!! reader is a sex worker in an illicit hostess club. reader smokes with reigen. oral (m! receiving). creampie. pet name baby is used once. unprotected sex (do as i say not as i do). WORD COUNT: 4.2k PSD CREDIT !!! MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI or I WILL CRAWL IN YOUR WALLS（ ꐦꉺωꉺ)つ

*₊˚💬୧ likelihood that i'll make this a series? 100% <3

You weren’t sure where you stood when it came to believing in the supernatural but your shoulders sure felt lighter and you were struck with the first wave of clarity you’ve had in days… Consider yourself convinced.

He can see you relax, recline even, in your seat and even he feels like there’s a weight off him, although that might be because your issue turned out to be completely mundane. Another happy customer, another dollar in his pocket– but this worked out, it always did.

Head bowed, you chirp with gratitude, “Thank you so much, Reigen-san!” When you rise, he swears there’s a new glitter and glow to your eyes. Maybe he really did something after all.

“It’s no problem at all.” His eyes flicker to the table Mob usually sits at. He’s working solo today so he’ll just take your payment at his desk. Ready to take your money, Reigen extends his hand, complete with his business card but to both your surprise, you don’t have cash to give him.

Oh no. Ohhh no.

Much to your dismay, patting yourself down does not magically manifest your wallet. This is a nightmare, magnified by the fact that this Reigen Arataka was seemingly the real deal. Your fear is written all over your face, lips trembling as you murmur nonsensically about where you could have possibly left your wallet. Your face falls further; you left it at home and you were stations away. What’s even more awful, your shift at work was starting soon and you still had a whole evening ahead of you. “I’m so sorry.” Your voice barely above a whisper, you fess up, “I left my wallet at home. I swear, I thought I had it!”

He’s less than impressed but he isn’t about to give you a hard time about it. You’re clearly worked up as it is and he’s not a monster; he won’t make you feel worse than you already do. “It happens.” You don’t strike him as someone to trick someone out of paying, he thinks. “D-Don’t worry about it!” His attempts at comforting you aren’t what cause you to suddenly exhale in relief; you feel a bill in your pocket. “Aha! I knew it!” Your enthusiasm is short lived. Turns out, it was a coupon for a service your job offered to new clientele. But maybe he would be interested?

“I have this voucher from my job… It’s not super far from here actually. Could you take this for now? I promise I’ll pay you!”

He gives the advertisement a look over but he can’t really deduce what the business is supposed to be by the logo and name alone. “What do you all do–” Reigen starts to ask but he’s abruptly cut off by your phone’s ringtone. It’s your manager.

You’re frantic speaking to your boss, zipping off the chair and pacing around the office, so Reigen keeps himself busy. A few mouse clicks and several loud clacks of keyboard keys later and…

Your job is a club.

You work at a hostess club.

But not one of those clubs, right? He thinks he would know if a place like that opened right under his nose. The website is cutesy and a live gallery gives Reigen’s all sorts of ideas, namely how you might look in the club’s uniform of choice: a maid costume, designed to mimic a cyber aesthetic, complete with glow-in-the-dark accents. His face is bright and flushed by the time you whirl back to him, phone in your pocket as you excuse yourself.

“I’m so sorry, they just called me in!” You’re so absorbed in your own dilemma, you fail to see just how flustered he is. “I have to go. But– but if you come by, I’ll have your payment! I swear!”

It happens so fast, the silence you leave in your wake is hard to stifle.

He could have just written it off as a loss. He could have chalked it up as the best performance he’s ever seen.

So why is he walking to your place of work, his stride fast with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed low, like he hopes no one will notice him? He can’t think of an answer that paints him a decent, upstanding man so he walks fast enough that his sensibility has no hope of catching up. He doesn’t have to do much to hide. The sun has already long set, so he moves in the shroud of darkness along with other stragglers in the streets. The closer he gets, the louder he can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

The noise is replaced by electronica music being played from stereos hung from every corner in the venue. It’s dimly lit– no, that’s not it. The whole lobby thrives under blacklights in every variation, more than Reigen could have thought even existed. His skin grows clammy. The place looks lavish, the voucher must have been for a novelty discount, he thinks while nervously backing away towards the entrance but then he locks eyes with you and even under the room’s purple hue, he can see just how pretty you glow.

Then his eyes travel just inches lower and he can see just how well you fill out your uniform.

You don't give him even a second of recovery time, the poor soul, as you make a beeline for him the second you see him. You don't have the money on you, just another excuse (a completely valid one at that, you weren't a scammer) but it becomes all too clear to you that he isn't here to collect. He's here to indulge.

He's meek when handing over the coupon you gave him earlier. Can you blame him? He isn't the type to peruse these establishments and he doesn't exactly know what to expect. He's like a dog with his tail between his legs, ashamed.

But you'll take good care of him because he's your pet for as long as he'll have you.

"I'm so happy you chose me for tonight!" As if he ever had an option. "I hope I can return the favor and help you relax a little." He's happy he can hear you clearly; the private room you've whisked him to is just as extravagant as the rest of the place but it's leagues quieter. You'd sounded cute before but here you sound angelic. Your voice is smooth like honey, sweeter too, and makes him feel like he's the only one who will ever get to hear it. He knows that's not true but buying into the lie for a change sounds pretty nice.

"Can I get you anything to drink? Want to smoke?" Huh, smoking does sound pretty good right now, he muses and he bets it wouldn't hurt to ease his nerves a little. But you're so good at what you do, you don't need him to use words to tell you what he wants. You crawl onto the couch, the cushion squishing under your knees as you dock your legs on both sides of his left one, sinking to a comfortable seat on his thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You make him choke on his breath as he feels his muscle come in contact with your bottom, your underwear. Thriving from how stunned speechless he is, you glide your hand on his chest and under his suit and that's where you find them. His cigarettes. You had seen them briefly during your session with him earlier so you knew he'd have them on him. You ready his nicotine, a sterling silver lighter in hand shining bright with a pink flame, and when he gives you a small nod of the head, you gingerly place the cigarette in his mouth and light him up.

Reigen purses his lips around the cigarette instinctively, taking a drag until the rush washes over his brain and exhales it all out: the smoke, his nerves.

"I wouldn't have thought you did this sort of thing." His Adam's apple bobs. Just how far would you take this? How far could he take this? His hand replaces yours in holding the cigarette, holding a position he's never quite had with anyone else. You drag his free hand to your thigh, guiding him to run his palm up your body. He hiccups at how soft your skin is, how he can so easily cup the plumpness of your thigh.

"I'll take that as a compliment." You giggle with pride, hovering your hand up and away from his now that he's got the idea. "The voucher's only good for an hour but…" Your voice trails off as both your hands dance up his arms until clasping behind his neck. You dig further into his leg, just ghosting your clit on the motion back up. "You can have me for as long as you want, as thanks for earlier."

It all feels so good, so surreal he has to be dreaming and his brain must be so cruel for concocting such a mouth-watering scene. But no, this is real. You're real. He puffs the cigarette, giving in to your touch as you lean forward, chest-to-chest, and start to litter kisses on his exposed neck. "We can also just talk and drink." Your whispers are hot against his skin. "Totally up to you."

You're a teasing little minx, he has to give you that. He doesn't want you to stop, he makes that very clear with how his grip on your thigh tightens when you freeze your motions, if only for a moment. "Talk and… this."

His wish is your command. You unclip what appears to be a portion of your outfit and what falls away is your skirt, now revealing the V-line cut of the garment underneath. You're down to your panties, running your cunt down his thigh while your hands move down, one to draw circles on his chest and the other to run teasingly along his belt buckle. "Okay, then tell me… Have you ever been to place like this before?" You had a feeling you knew the answer but it's always more fun to hear the confession.

"N-No." Reigen speaks in more of a groan at that point, relishing the clothed feeling of your clit being stimulated on his leg. "First time." He pulls another drag from his cigarette and like the good servant you are, you already have a heart-shaped ashtray for him to use as he pleases. Your hands haven’t left him for more than a second but he already misses your touch, the way your fingers had been playing so demurely with his hair, as intensely as the cool menthol flooding his bloodstream.

Oh first-timers. You loved your regulars but new blood was just so intoxicating, so special. You were in the business of making people feel good and you were damn good at it, practically feeding off how their pupils would get so blown out from your touch, your words. You could so easily turn a stranger to a regular and you had a sneaking suspicion that you would be seeing more of this Reigen Arataka. A lot more. You would make sure of it.

“I’m happy to be your first time then.” You grace him with a coy smile, your upper arms strategically squeezing your chest together for his viewing pleasure. You follow his eyes as they flit over to your breasts, lust flooding his pupils and his cock. The member stirs in the crosspoint of his slacks, pitching an obvious tent in no time flat. You see his cigarette wobble between his fingers. He still has quite a bit to go but you can see him weigh out his choices; should he finish his smoke or give himself over to you? “Want me to help you with that?” Your purring tickles his cheek as you cover the skin with generous pecks. He nods from under you and that’s when you pluck the cigarette from his hand, puckering your lips around the stick and taking a final drag. You feel his erection flex in his pants at this and this makes you giggle. Not at him, but because of him. “Indirect kiss.”

“How about a real one?” Say no more. He jumps on the opportunity, hungry lips capturing yours in a kiss that is clunky but has enough passion in it to make that nonconsequential. The cigarette tastes better on you, he decides as his mouth moves against yours with his tongue slipping past your lips in an effort to get more of your flavor in his system. You lap up the moans bubbling from his throat, hips dipping deeper against his thigh as you grind up exhilarating friction for the both of you. Your hands, now free to do as they please, curl back around his neck before swiping down, fingers teasingly drawing circles around his nipples until you draw out a pretty little squeak for your consumption.

Palms sliding down his abdomen, you massage and grope his erection until he’s bucking up into you. You bounce along his leg, lips popping free from his with a thin bridge of spit coming and going as you lean back. “Anything off limits?” You ask but can he really answer? There’s so much he wants to do, so much of you he wants to experience and burn into his memory for the days and weeks to come. Where does he even begin? How can he choose when all of you looks so delicious, feels so right?

You cup his face and bring him to another kiss, smiling against his lips when you feel his hands finally settle on your waist. His firm hold glides you down his leg but you can feel his cock become ravenous for more with every swipe of your clit. And to be honest, you’re dying for something more… Filling.

“I–” His voice cracks. How embarrassing. But when he meets your gaze, there isn’t an ounce of mockery or malice. When you look at him, he only sees adoration glossing your vision and it’s absolutely mesmerizing. And that’s when he decides, “I want you to suck me off.” He just has to see what those big eyes of yours look like when you’re sucking him to the hilt. “Of course, anything you want, Mr. Psychic.” You coo with some light chuckling, smoothly raising yourself off his lap and getting down on your knees between his legs. You make quick work of his belt, tossing it so it falls and flattens your discarded skirt piece. Next come his pants and boxer briefs, which you shimmy of his legs until they too are in a crumpled heap on the floor around his ankles.

Well, well, well. If looks aren’t deceiving. His slacks had contained his erection so well, you had no idea he would be this big. He might be the biggest you’ve ever had but there’s not a challenge in this world you can’t conquer. “Wow.” You croon, eyelashes batting prettily as you wrap your fingers around his cock and start to litter kisses all over his shaft, from the underside to the top. “So beautiful.” It’s the first time he’s ever heard someone say that and combined with your loving touch, he’s shivering. You press your tongue flat against his cockhead, the tip of your tongue just barely poking into the slit on its way to coating the rest of his member with your drool. Your tongue is hot as it runs down his veins, drawing zigzags on his length until you dip your head low and capture one of his balls in your mouth, sucking hard until a guttural moan bursts free from his mouth. You free it with a pop but you quickly perform the same routine on the other, not wanting to leave any part of him untouched.

“G-God.” Reigen groans on an exhale, hands contracting and for once, he doesn’t know what to do with them. “Grab my hair.” You instruct, breath hot on his cock as you clamp your lips on the end of his cock before you start to work on taking him all the way to his base. He listens and he listens well, hands quickly flying to either side of the crown of your head, fingers desperately curling around your locks as more and more of him enters your mouth. Reigen gasps when the tip of your nose comes to rest against his pelvis. You take a beat, letting his engorged cock fill your mouth before you start to bob your head up and down his shaft. Your cheeks hollow as the pressure you envelope around him intensifies to a degree he’s never felt before.

You’ve more than made up for your session earlier. Hell, he feels like he owes you at this point. The way you look at him, pupils large with ecstasy, makes his cock pulse in your mouth which you attend to with the swirl of your tongue until spit starts to well up and bubble over from the corners of your mouth. Your hands join in on the action, one massaging his balls with pressure coming from your thumb while the other starts to pump his length with little regard for how sloppy your movements start to become. It’s all so much. You’re so much. “I’m gonna– I’m gonna–” He can barely choke out the words, lids growing heavy as he starts to push himself further into your mouth until you’re suffocating with him. His cock gives one final spasm before he spills himself into you, hot and salty cum flooding your mouth but you drink it all down like it’s a refreshing glass of water.

His cock springs out of your mouth, slapping against his stomach with a wet pap but much to your surprise and delight, he stays hard. “I can go for another round.” Reigen follows up on an exhale, his hand strongly gripping his cock and giving it a few pumps before asking you all too politely, “Can… Can we go again?” You love a man who doesn’t beat around the bush. “Of course.” You tenderly lick a stripe down the head of his cock, letting the remants of his cum coat your tongue. “Show me how you want it.”

His lips are parted, mouth agape until he swallows hard. Leaning forward, he smooths the pad of his thumb along your cheek, measuring his fat and long member against your face and sighing dreamily at just how diminutive you look next to him. “Want you to ride me.” He begs, sweat on his brow and breath stalling in his throat as he watches you rise to your feet. “And—” He takes a sharp and shallow breath, “I want you to strip.”

Apron and panties meet the same fate as the rest of your outfit and just like you were before, he’s in awe of you. It feels unreal, how you saunter back over to him and take your rightful seat on his lap, his cock lying flat over your pelvis while your clit tingles at the base of his member. “Please.” Reigen pleads for mercy, eyes straining to keep focus as you rub yourself on his length. “Need to feel you.”

“Yes sir.” And with that, you hover over his member until the tip grazes over your pussy. You don’t make him wait much longer than that, guiding his cock past your folds until you can feel that delicious stretch overtaking you as you lower all the way down to the base. Bottoming out inside you is better than any high, greater than any other success he’s had in a long while. A shaky moan skirts past his lips as he feels your walls contract around his girth; you’re going to be a new addiction, he fears and he hopes all at the same time.

Now his hands are groping your ass, squishing the fat of your cheeks as he rolls his hips into you. His motions into you are slow at first but you tighten around him so much, he can’t help but start to pummel into you, harder and faster until he settles on a rhythm you both can agree on. You throw your head back, expression flushed with raw pleasure as you give all of you to him, letting him push himself further and deeper into you with every thrust. Oh, he won’t just be a regular. He’ll be your favorite.

His name sounds so beautiful falling off your tongue and you look just as good bouncing up and down his cock, your tits looking more and more appetizing as the seconds tick by. He just has to have a taste. One of his hands travels up to the small of your back, pressing your forward until he latches around one of your nipples, teeth lightly grazing the skin before he starts to suck and lick at your breast with ravenous hunger. Your sweat tastes so sweet to him as he curls his tongue around your nipple until he feels it start to harden around him. He only pops free with a groan as you grind down his cock, angling the tip just right that your core starts to go haywire.

“Feel so fucking good.” Reigen hisses before lavishing your other breast with the same tender care as the other. His gaze shifts, first to watch as your eyes roll to the back of your head and then to your reflection in the mirror ahead of you two, transfixed by how your ass shakes and wriggles while his cock jackhammers into your quivering pussy. Your juices start to leak, mixing indiscriminately with the spit still layered on his cock and your cunt starts to tremble around him.

You don’t need to tell him that you’re close. He can feel it because he is too. But it sure as hell does make him feel ethereal when you whimper, “I’m going to cum soon, sir. Can I? Please, can I?” Oh, you don’t know what havoc you just unleashed, begging for him like he’s the only one that can take you to Cloud Nine.

“Fuck— Yes, yes you can, baby. Can I come inside?” He growls, his mouth now over yours as he thrusts haphazardly into your cunt until he can feel your walls shake and conulvse around his member. The sounds of your squelching heat fill your ears, maybe clouding your decision when you mewl into his mouth, “Yes, yes, please!”

Your gummy walls hug his cock tigher and tighter as he pumps you full of his cock until he’s beating against your cervix with reckless abandon. His nails dig curved indentations into your ass but you delight in the sensation, funneling the pain into indescribable pleasure. Oh, he’s a gift, your body awash with a degree of gratification you’ve never felt before. You can feel your pussy molding itself to his member. Maybe you’re at the point of no return; could anyone top this?

Your pussy flutters around his cock as it spasms in your cavern until you feel him jerk so violently, he floods your cunt with thick strings of his load. You too start to feel your high expand until you burst at the seams with him bottomed out inside you. You throb around him, walls convulsing as your release starts to spill out down his balls and onto the couch. Needing more of him, you kiss him with fiery intensity, licking into his mouth as you start to float down from your climax. Reigen meets you at your level, indulging on every sound you give him as she start to relax all around him. When you pull apart, it’s not because you want to but because you need to breathe or you’ll soon pass out.

“Fuck.” Is all either of you can manage to muster when all is said and done.

Looking at the time, he can’t even discern how long either of you have been at it. What he can see, as unfortunate as it may be, is an hour at which he should be sleeping. He has his first client bright and early in the morning and if he’s going to want to see you again, he has to keep the cash flowing. But god, why do you have to look at him with those eyes, that pout, when he tells you that he has to go? How can he say no to that, how can he resist filling you with his seed one more time? Just one more… Just one more…

You follow him into his dreams, so it’s no wonder he sleeps past his alarms and ends up rushing like a fool to work but at least his steps are light and his soul is satisfied. He’s already whipping up witty lines in his head to ease the ire of his first client, though not without images of you infiltrating his brain. He’s practicing his performance, uttering strings of sorrys and promises of future discounts, when he sees not his appointment but you.

You with two coffees in hand and a smile brighter than any sunrise.

“Need a pick me up?”

Oh, you’re going to be the death of him. Of him and his wallet.

[coolbeesbro]

🍉 Credible Palestine Fundraisers 🍉

So I usually try and keep things on my account lighthearted and fandom related, but this is an issue/uncertainty I've experienced (and I'm sure others have also experienced) is not knowing what places to donate to. Some agencies take a lot (if not most) of the money raised for themselves, and an unfortunate truth about mass tragedies is that some people take advantage by posting false fundraisers to make a quick buck.

This makes me uncertain on what to share, and where to place funds; because in my own opinion, sharing/donating to false fundraisers does more harm to the cause than good. So I've spent the time to research multiple credible fundraisers and the minimum amount donation that can be made. Considering all current events, money is tight for a lot of us. A big thing to keep in mind though is that every penny adds up. For instance, a $1-5 donation doesn't look like much from 1 person, but if 10 people donate, thats $10-50, 100 donate and thats $100-500.

This is only a few places, and there are also plenty of others as well, but here's what I've found.

Woman For Woman International: Here

Mission Statement: Women and their families are in dire need. Help rush emergency aid, including: hot meals from community kitchen, warm clothes and blankets, hygiene kits, vouchers for milk, food, and diapers, trauma-informed counseling.

Minimum Donation $5

Takes Credit/Debit Card & Paypal

Does One Time & Monthly Payments

🍉🍉🍉

UN Crisis Relief: Here

Mission Statement: The United Nations and humanitarian partners are delivering life-saving assistance. Your donation will go to the Occupied Palestinian Territory Humanitarian Fund – one of the quickest and most effective ways to support urgent relief on the ground. The Fund collects contributions continuously so it can directly support a wide range of partners to address the highest priority humanitarian activities. The Fund is managed by the United Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs on behalf of the Humanitarian Coordinator.

Minimum Donation $1

Takes Credit/Debit Card & Google Pay

Does One Time, Weekly & Monthly Payments

🍉🍉🍉

United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA): Here

Mission Statement: As the United Nations sexual and reproductive health agency, UNFPA focuses on ensuring safe pregnancies and fulfilling the potential of young people. Expressing deep concern for women and girls in Gaza, of whom 50,000 are pregnant, UNFPA addresses the critical need for reproductive health supplies and services during the conflict. For every dollar contributed, 92 cents directly fund program and service delivery, while a modest 8 cents cover administrative costs—a testament to the organization’s efficiency and impact.

Minimum Donation $5

Takes Credit/Debit Card, Google Pay & Bank Transfer

Does One Time & Monthly Payments

You can dedicate your donation to someone

🍉🍉🍉

Gaza Family Funds Directory: Here

I will say, I'm still not 100% certain about the credibility of this one given the fact it's a large list of fundraisers that go to specific families, and this falls into the realm of potential scams scattered in the list, but I've seen this specific link shared by multiple people across multiple platforms, so I feel like there's some credibility to it.

[unloved-cadillac]

Everything Exists, Except For You. (Itto x Reader)

In which Arataki Itto loses his memories that include you.

C/n: I got robbed from having a buff Itto when I saw how good they did Al Haitham’s arms. Fucking REALLY HOYO?!

——————————————————————————

Whenever things get quiet around Inazuma city, it’s best to just bask in it. But sometimes, it get too quiet. That could only mean one thing:

The Arataki Gang are up to something.

And of course, they were. Outside of the city, Itto and the gang were hunting onikabuto. Why?

“Because there’s a super important tournament comin up and I HAVE TO WIN, Shinobu!” Itto cries out as his second in command crosses her arms and shakes her head. “Really? Isn’t it enough you have all those onikabuto at home now you want more?”

“Hey, I need fresh blood. Young for the stamina and big for strength.” Itto says as he looks under a rock.

“Boss! We found one!” Genta runs to him with his hands closed. “Lemme see! Lemme see!” Itto says and Genta opens his hands to show the smallest onikabuto ever. “You have got to be kidding me. Really, Genta? I love you man but we’re trying to win a tournament here.” Itto sighs and runs a hand down his face.

Shinobu rolls her eyes. “While you guys hunt bugs, I’m gonna go see if Y/n wants lunch.” Itto widens his eyes at the sound of your name. “Y/n?! Uhhh, damn. I want to come too.” Shinobu shakes her head. “Uh huh. And your precious onikabuto? I saw a big one on that tree over there.” She points behind him and the gang looks. “Gah, tell her I love her but I gotta do this! Let’s go guys.” Itto says and runs to the tree. Shinobu chuckles softly then heads to the city.

Walking through the city, Shinobu hears your voice mixed with another. “And Yoimiya, you gotta understand. This man is my everything but he’s so silly! He does the funniest things even if he hurts himself. That’s the only problem.” You say and Yoimiya chuckles. “You’re so smitten, Y/n. It’s cute.” You blush and scratch your head.

“Y/n! Yoimiya!” Shinobu calls you guys and you turn. “Shin! Hey! Where’s the guys?” You look behind her to see your tall boyfriend not there. “Your precious Oni and his friend are hunting onikabuto again. Some tournament.”

“Oh, I heard about that! The winner gets 180k in mora plus a voucher for the Shin restaurant.” Yoimiya says and you “oooh”

“Anyway, you guys hungry? I was thinking of-“

“SHINOBUUUUU!!! YYYYY/NNNNNN!!!!”

The cries of the voices you’ve come familiar with scream as they run to you. “Genta? Akira? What’s wrong?” Shinobu asks as she waits for them to catch their breaths. “I-it’s the boss. He fell down real bad. Oh, I told him not to climb so high.”

“Yeah, but you know him. Won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

“Guys,” you interrupt their conversation making them look at you,”what happened to Itto?”

~~~~

Mamoru had Itto’s head on his lap as he fanned him. “Wake up boss. Y/n’s on her way. Cmon.” He mumbles but Itto doesn’t. You and the others run to him and you drop down in your knees.

“Itto? Baby? Can you hear me?” You tap his cheek. He doesn’t respond so you place your ear on his chest. Hearts still beating. “Guys, it’s gonna take so much strength but we need to get him to granny Oni.” So, using all their strength, the arataki gang carried their boss to his home where his granny stood outside.

“Oh no. What happened?“ She asks as the lay him down on his bed. The boys explain the situation as the granny examines him. “He’s such an idiot sometimes, my Itto. He has a head injury but luckily not a concussion. He’ll wake up soon.” She looks at you and you sigh in relief.

That night, you slept right by him fanning him occasionally. You kissed his cheek and laid next to him. “Silly little Oni.”

~~~~

You woke up first, cleaning up the house with granny Oni. An hour after, you heard groaning coming from the room Itto laid and you called granny Oni to check. She sat on the bed and felt him wake up.

“Itto.” She calls him. “Mmmmm, granny. My head hurts.” He groans. “I know. You hit it pretty hard.”

He slowly gets up and holds his head. “Ugh. Lucky I didn’t chip a horn, huh?” He looks up to see you smiling. He tilts his head. “Uhm, granny. There’s a pretty girl in our house.” He says and she looks at you. “Yes, sweetie. She’s Y/n. Do you..not remember her?” He shakes his head. “I’m your girlfriend, Itto.” You say, sadly.

“Hey, hey. You’re my girlfriend? No way, you’re gorgeous!” He says and your smile reappears. “Im sorry though. I can’t remember. My noggin’s all messed up.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll help you get it back.” You say and kiss his forehead.

~~~~

“So he doesn’t remember anything?” Shinobu asks. “He remembers majority of things. Like the gang and stuff but not me, for some reason.” You explain as you watch him and the guys play fight. “Sorry, Y/n. I’ll ask some people to see what they can do.”

“Thanks, Shin.”

“Hey, hey pretty girl.” Itto says and squats down before you. “Hey, hey pretty oni. How’s your head?” You touch him and he smiles. “Better now. The guys want to head to the beach to chill. Come with?” He asks and you nod. “Sure. Take it easy though, okay?” You say and he nods. “Yo! She said yes! Let’s go, boys!” He yells out and the whole gang including you head to the beaches of Inazuma.

It was the same beach Itto took you on your first date with him. He wanted to show you the school of colorful fish that always came by but it turned out to be dangerous fish and Itto had got bitten. Even though he was hurting, you laughed and he laughed with you through the pain.

“Remember that?” You ask him and he scratches his head where his horn poked out. “Not really. I don’t remember coming here all that much.” This made your heart drop. He couldn’t remember one of the most important memories you both shared. The way he softly kissed you after that date and gave you a little onikabuto toy he won from one of the kids.

Itto kissed your forehead before heading to play ball with the boys. You put your knees up to your chest as you softly cried and let your tears flow.

This went on for a while. You took him to important spots in Inazuma where you shared important things with each other and he couldn’t remember any of it. It was like you were completely erased from his memory. He didn’t remember your favorite food, he didn’t remember you telling him about family and vice versa.

He just didn’t remember.

Because of this, you felt like he was a completely different person. He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t not happy. He didn’t play with his onikabuto anymore, nor his card games. You even tried to ask the Yashiro commissioner if Itto played with him and Ayato said no. It really messed up your mind and now, you don’t know if you could be with him.

“I love him, Granny. But I’m afraid he doesn’t love me back. He can hardly remember me. It’s like we’re strangers all over agin.” You hold your head in your hands and Granny oni rubs your shoulder. “I’m not going to tell you to stay but I’m not going to tell you to leave either. My Itto has changed and if it’s this bad, just do what you think is healthy and best for both of you.“

You lift your head up and look at her with tear filled eyes. Before you could say anything, Itto comes into the house. “Gran, I got your stuff. Oh,” he stops when he sees you, “hey Y/n.” He greets and you quickly wipe your eyes. “Hi, Itto.” You look at Granny Oni and kiss her goodbye. “Where you going?” He asks and you look at him when you stop by the door. “Home. I’m sorry, Itto.” You smile sadly and begin to walk away.

Itto waited for a few minutes when he realized what just happened. “Gran, did she just..?” He asks but before she could answer, he runs after you.

“Y/N!” You hear him calling you but you don’t turn back. “Y/N! Please! Wait!” He yells and you stop. You turn to face him and he stops in his tracks. “What is going on?” He asks and you shake your head.

“Itto, ever since your accident you stopped remembering me. You couldn’t remember our first date, when we said I love you for the first time, when we shared such intimate details about each other that we haven’t told anyone else. And you still couldn’t remember. Itto, I love you. I love you so damn much but you don’t love me.” You smile sadly. “It’s just how things have to be now. You’re…you’re not my Itto. My silly oni who used to make me cry from laughing so much. My silly oni who brought me poison ivy thinking they were flowers. I’m not going to force you anymore.”

Itto remained silent as you spoke your heart and, as much as he hated to admit it, but you were right. He couldn’t remember you no matter how much he tried. You walk up to him and cup his cheek. “I will always, always love you, my one and oni.” You whisper and he stares into your eyes. You laid a gentle kiss on his other cheek then pulled away and walked away from him, leaving Itto with a crack in his heart.

A month later

The tournament for the onikabuto was finally here but the Arataki Gang were no where to be seen. Yoimiya looked around the crowd and she didn’t see you or the gang, making her worry.

Running to their usual hang out spot, Yoimiya saw the Arataki Gang but without their leader. “Hey guys. Why aren’t you at the tournament?” Yoimiya asks and the gang remain quiet. But Akita soon speaks. “The boss hasn’t been himself lately. Since his accident plus Y/n leaving, it’s like he lost himself. We tried everything but nothing jogged his memory. We gave up at this point.” Yoimiya clicks her tongue. “Is he at home?” They nod and Yoimiya heads to the Oni household.

Itto was busy doing pull ups on a rusty bar while Granny Oni was sitting, petting a bird. “Hey, Itto!” Yoimiya yells and he looks at her while continuing his pull ups. “Hey. Yoimiya, right? What’s up?” Yoimiya dismisses the fact he doesn’t remember her and crosses her arms. “That tournament is up. You’re not joining?”

Itto shakes his head. “Nah. Don’t really find the need anymore.”

Yoimiya grinds her teeth. “Alright, listen here Oni! I don’t know what happened to you but you aren’t the Itto I know. The fact that you can’t remember me says enough. Y/n has been worried sick about you and as a matter of fact, all of us have! And now you don’t want to fight Onikabuto?! What the hell, man?!”

Itto stops midway of his pull-up and listens to the firework girl. As he was about to say something, a creak of metal catches his attention but as soon as he was about to let go, the rusty pole cracks and breaks. Itto falls down and hits his head, blacking out.

~~~~

“When will this boy learn not to do silly things?” Granny Oni says and Yoimiya grunts. “He’s gonna be alright though, right? I mean he’s been through this before.” Granny oni nods and Itto stirs. “Oh my god.” He grunts out and holds his head. “My head is actually banging. What happened? Where’s Y/n?” Itto asks and Granny Oni and Yoimiya look at each other then back to Itto. “You remember her, sweetie?” Granny asks him and he chuckles softly. “Of course, Gran. She’s my everything. I feel like I haven’t seen her in years. Why? Did something happen?” He asks face contouring in worry.

Granny Oni explains the last three months and Itto couldn’t believe it. “How could this happen? Me not remembering her? Where is she?”

“She’s at home. Hasn’t been the same for a while, Itto.” Before the girls could say anything after, Itto bolts out the dirt and runs.

He ran through Inazuma city and past the river, straight to your home. Tears unintentionally fell from his eyes as he thinks about you. How alone you must’ve felt. How betrayed.

‘You couldn’t remember anything about her, Itto. Like she was wiped from your life.’

“No. No, never.” Itto says and picks up the pace. He found himself at the gate to your house as he looked around for you. “Come on, Y/n. Where are you?” He mumbles to himself as he looks around.

“Itto?”

Your soft voice echos in him as he turns around to see you. God, you looked tragically beautiful to him. Your eyes were swollen, probably from crying. Bags formed underneath them and you got thinner.

“Baby.” He says and you frown. “What?” You say and he walks to you. He stood in front of you for a minute before dropping to his knees. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what happened. I blacked out. Then I wake up to news that you left me and..that I couldn’t remember you. I’m so sorry. I do, babe. I remember.”

You gasp softly as you listen to him. The sincerity in his voice made you want to hold him and sink back into him. To go back to normal. But it’s too late. You look down and shake your head.

“I..I need to think.” You softly say and walk past him to go to your house.

Itto quickly got on his feet and turned to you.

“Your favorite flower is the dendrobium. I know because you told me that when we were 16. We sat on the beach when you saw one and I ran to get it for you.” He began and you stopped in your tracks when he spoke.

“Favorite food: literally anything. You love to eat as much as I love to fight onikabuto. I confessed to you through Shinobu because you made me so nervous I turned red whenever you looked at me. I took you to the fanciest restaurant in Inazuma for our first date and cleaned out whatever Mora I had just to see you smile. You kissed me for the first time on the same beach we met, where I also got stung by jellyfish. I got into a fight with a ronin because he was being an asshole to your sister. I didn’t lose, of course. I told you about my parents, how much my mom would have loved you and my dad would be proud of me to get a girl like you. You’re my entire life, Y/n. Everything I am now is because of you. I don’t know what I did the past months, but if it was to the point where I hurt you so deeply where you can’t forgive me, I understand.”

You sighed as you cried your heart out. Itto turned away and wiped his own tears speaking about leaving. He didn’t want to. It would break him and you. But if it’s what you wanted, he’d respect it and leave. As he began to walk away, he felt your arms around his torso as you cried into his back.

“You stupid, stupid Oni!” You scream and he turns in your arms and holds you. “I missed you so much! It broke me not seeing you! I, I couldn’t, I..” you stutter and tumble over your words as you gripped him, afraid he might leave. “No, baby. I’m here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He picks you up to hold you tighter. “It’s not your fault,” you whisper into his shoulder, “it was just so unforeseen. You forgetting me.”

Itto suddenly puts you down, gets on his knees and holds your hands, “I promise, my love, that I will be so careful from here on out. I can’t risk doing that to you and us not being together.” You smile and move down to him and cup his cheeks. Your thumbs carefully wipes away his tears and you place a kiss on his lips. “I love you, Itto.” “And I love you, Y/n.”

From the bushes, a string of cheers arise. “Boss! You’re back!” Genta says and Itto nods, getting up with you. “Oh thank god,” Shinobu says holding her head, “I was about to knock him out myself.” Itto laughs. Normally he’d back away from Shinobu’s aggression but he just smiled and looked at you. He’d knock some sense into himself if he ever did that again.

The gang tell Itto about the tournament and he looks at you who smiles. “Go get ‘em, One and Oni.” He smiles and begins to run with the gang back to Inazuma city.

Itto made it to the finals and for the first time, luck was on his side. You gave him your lucky onikabuto to use and not did it fight.

As Itto said, it was “only the best and biggest Oni for my girl!”

Weeks passed by and you and Itto found yourselves back at the beach. “I really didn’t remember huh?” He asks after a silence. You look at him and click your tongue. “Babe, it’s okay. It’s over. You’re back.”

“How can I, Y/n? You were left alone. I vowed to never do that!” He yells and punches the rock you both sat on, making you both fall on your asses.

“Firstly, ow. Secondly, you see this?” You point to his Vision. Itto nods. “This was given to special people. People with a greater goal and such a passion for life. You think Morax gave you this because he just does? No. He gave it to you for a reason. Don’t ever give up. On whatever you set your mind and heart on. You will never leave me again, know why? Cause unlike the last time, I’m fight a bit harder for us. I vow that if this has to happen again, I will not rest until I make you mine again. I promise.”

As the last two words left your mouth, a bright light emitted from you for a few seconds then disappeared. “What was that?” You ask and Itto looks at you, searching for something. “There! On your right hip, babe!”

A Vision.

You and Itto admire it for a while before you look back at him. “See? That’s how much I mean it.” Itto smirks, grabs you and gets up twirling you around, laughing. “YOU HAVE A VISION BABY!” He screams and you join him in laughing.

Love. It’s a funny, amazing, tragic and confusing thing. So confusing, that the Gods envy humans for feeling such a strong emotion. And when they feel such a strong emotion emitting from a human, a mortal thing at that, they gift a Vision. Proof of love.

——————————————————————————

“Proud Itto main since December 2021. I love him.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[teaandransacking]

I'm a fan of yours on ao3 and I binged your The Devil All the Time series this week - so good OMFG - and your soft smut is immaculate.

Would you bless us with some Lucy/Lockwood first time smut including the Lockwood Pajamas (tm)?

First of all YOU HAVE READ THAT FIC? I feel like only about 10 people in the world read that, and I loved writing it. Thankyou.

Just for you, please enjoy some 5-ply soft, non explicit smut.

Let's pretend these characters are 18 or older, OK? OK.

except when we went from friends to this

Words: 2500 ~ Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x Lucy Carlyle ~ Content: super soft non explicit, dreamy first-time sex.

It all begins with a present from Flo.

Lockwood is confused at first. A hotel? He hasn’t been inside a hotel - the ones that are unhaunted, anyway - since he was a small boy in a boy size suit, eating afternoon tea with his parents on his birthday. The memory makes him feel funny, and he rubs his hand over his chest as he looks down at the shiny voucher, out of place against the cheap formica of the cafe tabletop.

Flo frowns. “I hope I didn’t overstep, Locky. It’s your birthday, after all, and I thought - well, you could take Lucy with you-”

He looks up at that, and a different sort of emotion makes his chest tight. Fantasy snapshots flit through his mind. Lucy, walking down the grand staircase of a fancy hotel, a cocktail dress flaring out from her hips. Lucy, covered up to her neck in bubbles in a fancy hotel bathtub.

He could give her that.

He traces his finger along the edge of the card. “How did you get this?”

“Bartered for it, didn’t I. Amazing what you can get when you’ve got an… eclectic skill set like mine.”

Lockwood thinks it’s best he doesn’t ask any more questions about that.

“What about George?” he blurts out, wondering if the other young man will feel left out.

Flo smiles slowly. “You know I’ve never been entirely altruistic, Locky. If you and Lucy are out, well, I’ll have George and his ghormeh sabzi all to myself, won’t I?”

Oh. Lockwood looks down into his cup of tea, feeling a flush creep up his neck. “Right. And he’s…. Okay with it?”

“Would I have asked if he wasn’t?” She grins. 

Thinking about the implications of her smile and her words too long makes Lockwood think of the time with the yoga, so he blinks the image away, sipping tea. “Thankyou,” he says eventually. “This is really kind. I appreciate it.”

Flo grins that cheshire cat grin again. “No, you don’t. But you will.”

He doesn’t rise to the bait, but tucks the gold-edged voucher away safely inside his coat.

He knows what Flo thinks is going to happen if he takes Lucy to the hotel. Maybe it will, and maybe it won’t, but what Lockwood wants most is just to be with her, uninterrupted time, where they can talk and cuddle and laugh and relax, without the threat of Visitors - or any other kind of unwanted guests.

Perhaps he’ll get the Do Not Disturb sign and hang it on the door as soon as they arrive.

If Lucy agrees to go, that is.

#### 

“The Connaught?” Lucy exclaims, almost knocking over her mug of tea. She grabs it just in time, so that only a few drops spill over the edge. Her eyes are wide with excitement, and Lockwood could just drown in them, wade into those clear depths and never look back, not for anything. “That’s the poshest hotel in England!”

“So you want to go, then?” He asks, nerves cramping his stomach. “With me, I mean.”

She gives him a funny look. “Who else would I want to go with?”

He reaches across the table, from his position opposite her, runs his index finger over the back of her hand. “I wanted to be sure.”

Lucy turns her hand over, palm upwards, and tangles their fingers together. “You are a bit of an idiot sometimes, you know that?”

Relief makes his shoulders slump, and he feels the grin spread across his face. “I am well aware.”

#### 

Dinner’s at eight, the desk clerk informs them, but it’s not included in their room rate.

“Not to worry,” Lucy murmurs as they head off towards the stairs with their room key, “I packed a picnic we can eat on the carpet.”

He loves her. If he wasn’t entirely sure of it before, he is now.

The room somehow manages to be cavernous but cosy. How that’s achieved, he has no idea, and right now, he can’t bring himself to care as he watches Lucy run for the huge bed and launch herself on to it. She bounces, laughing, and it’s been so long since he’s heard her laugh like that, carefree, and when she lands, her gaze finds him.

“Come on, then! You can’t come all the way here and not bounce on this bed.”

“It’s only Mayfair,” he points out, but the smile on his face is completely irrepressible. He feels like he has to add, “at least take off your shoes.”

Lucy laughs, but wiggles to the end of the bed and shucks off her boots. “Come on, Lockwood. Remove the stick from up your arse for once.”

She says it so fondly that he can’t be annoyed, even a little bit. Truth be told, he was a bit of a stick in the mud before her, before George.

He toes off his trainers and shoves them aside before walking to the bed. For a second he falters, wondering what to do. He would have known, once, before his entire family was taken from him, before-

Lucy grabs his hand and tugs him, and he falls on top of her, their bodies flush, and she looks up at him in surprise, her lips parted slightly, and it’s an invitation he simply can’t refuse. He settles his forearms either side of her head and then he touches his mouth to hers.

It starts off soft and sweet, like many of their kisses, mostly chaste, and then she slides a hand up into his hair and sighs into his mouth, and suddenly everything inside him is on fire.

“Lucy,” he groans, drawing back to look at her. Her lips are kiss-swollen and her titian hair is spread out over the crisp, snow-white bedsheets. He’s seen some of the finest art in the known world, and none of it, not a single painting, compares to having Lucy Carlyle warm and willing under him, her gaze lust-soft and her cheeks flushed.

She smooths his hair back from where it falls over his forehead. “I did really want to see you jump on the bed, but I think this is better.”

It’s very difficult to think when their bodies are so perfectly lined up, especially since he’s never been this close to her without interruption, but he concentrates and makes himself form a reply. “I’ll do a cartwheel over the bed later if it’ll make you laugh, but for now - wild horses couldn’t pull me away from this moment.”

“You can do a cartwheel?” she asks, her brows arching up, but his expression must be a reply all in itself, because she presses her lips closed and then frames his face between her hands. “I love it here, too. I’ve, er, been thinking for a while that it’d be nice to have some time together. Hard to relax when anyone might overhear.”

“Yeah. That’s not really my thing,” Lockwood agrees.

Mischief flits across Lucy’s beautiful face. “I’d like to find out what is your thing.” And she lets her body go soft under his, spreading her legs so he’s cradled right there and his brain completely short circuits at the sensation, even through their layers of clothes.

“Have mercy,” he manages to whisper.

“On the great Anthony bloody Lockwood? Never,” she whispers, but there’s gentleness in her voice. “How about a bath, first?”

That makes him immediately imagine her naked, and for another second he can’t form a single coherent thought.

Lucy shakes her head, laughs softly, but it’s a sweet laugh, a kind, warm one. He doesn’t protest when she rolls their bodies and then hops off him, standing and holding out her hand. “Come on. A proper bath, in a proper big bath tub, with fancy bubbles! I have never had fancy bubbles!”

Lockwood has to blink again to get the cogs in his brain to turn, and then he lets himself be led into what turns out to be a palatial bathroom. It’s all sleek marble floor tiles and travertine walls, and the claw foot tub rises from the floor, a porcelain leviathan, waiting to be filled, and all he can do is stand there and imagine Lucy in it, the water fanning out her hair, and her eyes closed, long lashes resting on her cheeks.

She turns on the taps, fits the plug in the circular hole, and then eyes him. “Clothes.”

He blinks at her. “Yes. I packed them.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. “We can’t get in the bath with clothes on, Lockwood.” She grins at him, and there she is, sarcastic as ever, and suddenly he feels at home again. “I’ll turn around if you like.”

Heat floods his face, and he starts to acquiesce, and then he realises, he doesn’t want her to turn around. He wants to feel her gaze on him as he undresses, and then he wants to see her peel her own layers away, and he wants to sink into the hot water with her, feel the silk of her skin and slide soapy hands over her-

And then he’s obviously dawdled too long, because Lucy crosses the space between them and starts unwinding his tie. He gazes down at her, at the overhead lights glinting off her gorgeous, silky red hair, and he drops a kiss on her forehead.

She looks up, a small smile on her lips, and continues with her ministrations until his tie lies limp around his neck, either side of the collar of his white shirt.

“I can do the rest,” he says softly.

She steps back, grinning, her eyes eating him up, and in that moment, he feels like he could take on the world, if only he could carry the light in her gaze with him always.

He discards the tie, unbuttons the shirt. He’s been shirtless in front of her before, for short periods - one memorable time when she couldn’t sleep and came to talk to him at midnight when he was already undressed - but never like this, with this superheated air between their bodies.

Lockwood shrugs the shirt off and it falls to the floor in a whisper of cotton. He doesn’t look at what he’s doing, only at her, and the naked want in her eyes could sustain him for days.

The metal buckle of his belt clinks loudly as he unbuckles it, stepping out of his trousers and pulling off his socks, and then he’s barefoot in the fancy, high-ceiling bathroom, wearing only black boxers, and for a moment, nerves shred his stomach, but then Lucy hooks a finger in the waistband of his underwear and pulls him close to kiss him, and his fears unravel into warm yearning. His arms go around her and he holds her as their mouths whisper over each other. 

Then she draws back, smiling a little, and moves to turn off the taps. “Nice and full. Water’s going to get cold. Can’t waste it.”

He glances over at the veritable lake. No bubbles, but they’ve got all night. They can always have another bath later. He opens his mouth to tell her that it’s her turn to take off her clothes, but instead hears himself say, “Might I - can I - undress you?”

Her eyes spark. “Since you ask so nicely. Come here, then.”

Lockwood joins her by the rolltop side of the bath, his hands going to the hem of her jumper, fingers curling in the softness of it, and then she lifts her arms obligingly, and he gently tugs it off. It goes the way of his clothes, unmissed, and her tank top and jeans and socks follow, and then she stands, pale and perfect in her underwear, and the shape of her blows every one of his fantasies out of the water.

Lucy whispers, “I think we’re still wearing too many clothes for a bath,” and he grins at her, and they help each other with the last of their garments, and then climb into the tub, gazing at each other.

The bottle of body wash is glass, and scented with citrus and bergamot, and it’s silky-smooth when they wash each other with it, learning the angles and curves and lines and soft spaces of each other’s bodies. There’s no words, but there’s no need for any, not when they’re cocooned here together, warm and wet and safe and together.

The water is tepid, almost cold, when they leave the bath, and Lockwood wraps Lucy in a huge, soft bath towel, and then himself, and she laughs when they run to the bed together, snuggling under the covers until they’re warm again.

Lockwood isn’t sure who makes the first move - he’s pretty sure it’s Lucy, of course it is - but one moment they’re cuddling, talking softly, and then next moment, she’s straddling his hips, looking down at him with large, soft eyes, and being under her is bliss unlike any he’s ever experienced.

“I haven’t ever - that is…” he begins, settling his hands on her hips, wanting something, wanting everything, except to disappoint her. He couldn’t bear it.

She drops a kiss on his mouth. “I haven’t either, but I’m almost certain we’ll figure it out together.”

And they do, for the first time, and the pleasure is intense and overwhelming and so much more than he could ever have expected.

He learns what to do to make Lucy sigh his name, how to make her hands fist in the bedsheets, and he does it several more times, before they eventually remember that picnic, and they eat it wearing their pajamas, sat on the carpet, looking through the big picture window up at the stars.

“I wanted to give you something special,” Lockwood begins as they lie together, after midnight, curled up sleepily in the enormous bed. “I thought about you in a pretty dress, on the big grand staircase… having a fancy dinner…”

Lucy chuckles. “Is that what you think I want? Fancy dinners? Do I need to remind you about my feelings on horseradish?”

He grins into the dark room. “No, you don’t.” He sighs, kissing her hair. “I wanted it to be perfect.”

“Anthony Lockwood, you never know when to bloody shut up, do you? It is perfect.” She snuggles into it, slides a leg over his. “And if you really want to make up for the lack of fancy dinner, you can order breakfast in bed tomorrow.”