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eccentricwritingbaby · 7 months ago

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baby finn series, babysitting and date nights

series masterlist

lando norris x mom!wife!reader

summary - uncle carlos comes over to babysit finn as you and your husband enjoy a night out.

masterlist

when lando had finally turned the latch of the lock to your shared home, he let out an exhausted sigh. he had been in the sim all day with a long road ahead of him in order to secure a win. he was drained. he had been there the entire day, missing dinner and almost missing bedtime. all he wanted was to hug his young son, kiss his beautiful wife, and take a long hot shower. the universe, however, had other plans.

opening the door, lando was met with baby finn running circles around you in nothing but his diaper. you locked eyes with your husband and he could feel the exhaustion that you were exhibiting, too. finn wasn’t being bad, he was just being a kid. he had loads of energy that you and lando could usually keep up with in high spirits, but, work had been kicking both of your asses. you were both burning out.

“finn, honey, please it’s time for your bath,” you let out a sigh, bringing your hand up to brush the hair out of your face. lando walks over to assess the situation fully, bringing your tired body into his arms for a hug. you slump against him as he kisses your forehead and locks eyes with his son.

“finn. bath. now,” your husband puts his foot down and your son happily runs towards the bathroom, not grasping the exhaustion or irritation of his parents - thankfully. one thing neither of you ever did was push your problems onto your son, and you never wanted to.

“thank you, i’ll head in there in a min-” you begin but your husband cuts you off with a kiss.

“no, we agreed you’d take the morning, i’ll take bedtime. i’ve got this,” lando replies with a swipe to your bum.

“but you look tired, love-”

“so do you. it’s alright, who knows? maybe finn’s innocent energy will rub off on me, eh?” you chuckle at his question and wordlessly nod before he continues, “go get ready for bed, i’ll call you right in,” one more smack to your bum and lando is heading into the bathroom to start his son’s nightly routine as you follow his polite orders to take care of yourself.

around a half hour later, lando is calling you into finn’s room for a cuddle and a tuck into bed. as you arrive, you can see finn slowly losing his energy cuddled into your husband’s arms, letting out a yawn.

“is my sweet boy tired?” you question towards your son, seeing lando nod his head yes as finn lets go of a quiet ‘so much mommy’.

“i think he had a case of the late night zoomies,” lando lets out a laugh as he gently sets his son into bed, proceeding to get him comfortable under the blankets. you both then lean down, kissing his forehead, wishing him a good night's sleep, and reminding him you’d see him in the morning. after the lights are off and the door cracked a bit open, lando leads you down the hall towards your bedroom with a firm hand on your lower back.

you collapse onto the bed in a huff once you enter, leading your husband to quietly laugh at you - still cautious of the sleepy boy down the hall.

“i’m heading to shower, love. care to join?” lando offers with eyes wide and smile even larger. you grant him a feverish nod and begin to follow behind him eagerly as he giggles.

once you were both stripped and into the steamy shower, lando’s body slumped against yours, his back being attacked by the hot water and his head resting on your shoulder. you run your hand gently through his wet curls as he lets out a deep sigh.

“wanna talk about it?” you whisper into his hair. lando shakes his head and mumbles into your shoulder, “could you repeat that, love?” you giggle, shaking your shoulder a bit to move lando’s face out of your neck and into your view. his hands grip your waist as yours are guided to rest on either side of his face.

“i just want to relax, we haven’t had a day just us to relax, i miss my wife,”

“i miss you too but that’s the life of parents, lan. maybe if you had pulled out three year-”

“alright, alright,” he exclaims, “you don’t need to harp on my pullout game for me to get the picture” he laughs while reaching behind you to grab some body wash.

“i do agree we need a small break, though,” you sigh, “work has been draining me, i don’t want it to affect finn,”

“ya know who’s in town next week, love?” lando’s eyes sparkle as he asks, prompting you to laugh and let out a shake of your head, urging him to continue, “carlos,”

“okay, bud. uncle los will be here very soon, do you remember what we talked about?” lando is on one knee, bent at your son’s level and looking oh so fine. his black button up with most of the top buttons loose, the dark pants to go with it and the chains dangling from his neck already had you worked up, but the adorable nature of his fatherhood? now that’s hot.

“yes, daddy,” your son replies, you can tell he’s attempting to hold in his excitement as much as he can as he is almost vibrating due to his little bursts of energy.

“can you tell me again, bubs?” lando holds onto his son’s hands, searching his eyes at an attempt to really have finn understand the importance.

“um, say pwease and tank you!”

“very good, what else?”

“be nice,”

“good, bubs, anything else?”

“do what uncle los say?” finn adds his last answer with an unsure smile as he eyes his dad with a tilted head. lando chuckles at his son’s cuteness and kisses his head, nodding in confirmation for your son to listen to his babysitter for the night.

“and help him out, baby. if he needs anything, okay?” you add on, making your entrance in the room known. lando looks over to you and it seems as if his heart stopped, but it hadn’t. if anything it was beating so fast it could've flown out of his chest. standing up from his position on the ground, he makes his way over to you, mouth agape, eyes raking your figure, and head slowly shaking left to right.

“you look…” your husband drinks in your appearance again, eyes scanning you from head to toe, “absolutely breathtaking,” he finishes off, his right hand coming over to hold his heart.

“thank you, my love,” you giggle a bit, stepping to him in order to plant a kiss to his cheek, “you clean up pretty nice, too,” you shoot him a wink, walking past him and towards your son.

“thanks for walking away, dear. this view is much better,” lando lets out a chuckle, eyes not daring to drift from your ass, until your head swivels - and he catches your smile.

“anytime, baby,” you laugh at his antics, leading him on as you bend over to grab your son, slower than usual. you hear a deep groan come from lando but before anymore comments were made, the doorbell rang throughout the home. finn drops from your arms, beginning his race to the door.

“finn! wait until i open the door!” lando shouts, jogging over to where your toddler was attempting to reach the handle.

“i big like you dada! i do it!” finn jumps again, trying with all his little might to reach the handle. lando comes behind him, scooping him up from behind and holding him near the handle and lock.

“alright, go ahead big boy,” lando urges his son to open the door, and when he does, his excited shrieks are all that fill the house.

“UNCLE LOS!” finn has wiggled out of his fathers’ grasp and already launched himself into carlos’ arms.

“hola, pequeño,” the ferrari driver lets out with a chuckle.

“i so excited you here!” finn is squirming up and down in carlos’ arms as the adults all just laugh at the adorable kid. lando pulls him out of carlos’ arms for one more brief chat about his behavior as you hand carlos the important babysitting list.

“basically, it's all the numbers you don’t already have, like fewtrell and i think my mom, and then his schedule is here,” you continue briefing carlos as lando begins to stand and make his way back to you, “you don’t have to be too strict about this, just have fun,” you assure carlos at the end of the run through.

“i’ve got it, you guys have fun. finn and i sure will,” carlos begins to usher you two out the door, a hyper-active three year old seemingly glued to his leg.

“call if you need anything, and i mean anything,” lando emphasizes to his friend.

“lando. it will be fine, you muppet. go enjoy your night with your wife, i’m going to catch up with mi amigo, finn, here,” at this point he is pushing you and your husband out the door and you both laugh at the door shutting in your faces. lando extends his arm for you to hold with a ‘m’lady’, and you both make your way to the restaurant.

at the restaurant, the maître d' guides you to your table and lando proceeds to pull out the chair for you to take your seat. both now seated, he begin to ask what drinks to begin with, lando responding with his and you responding with ‘just a water, please’. walking away to fulfill your orders, lando spares you an odd glance.

“it’s our night off, love. you didn’t want to get a drink?”

“no, just a water will do it for me,” you respond quick, your husband still eyeing you with oddity, “im glad we’re doing this,” you continue, reaching across the table to hold his hand in yours.

“me too, a night just to ourselves was very needed,” he lets out with a smile.

“i just hope our boy isn’t causing too much chaos at home,” you sigh, the waiter coming over to take your orders and drop off your drinks. lando just mumbles a ‘they’ll be fine’ almost to assure himself before placing his order.

“vroom! vroom!” finn squeaks out on the floor, rolling his red ferrari cars around the living room. carlos joins in with a laugh, proceeding to hold his own decorated sainz55 car - finn’s most prized possession - and run it around their make-shift track. he quickly pulls out his phone to capture the moment and ease the parents minds.

“finn, look here! it’s for mommy and daddy, smile!” carlos instructs the little boy. finn looks up, letting out a huge smile and giggle, before crawling into the ferrari drivers lap. one more picture - a selfie this time - of finn clinging onto carlos’ neck, and carlos hits a quick send to his friends.

“here, honey,” lando pulls his phone out and sends it your way in order for you to also see the adorable array of photos your babysitter had sent.

“well aren’t they having fun?” you place a hand over your heart as you speak, too in awe of the little chubby cheeked smile staring back at you.

“this was a grand idea,” your husband reiterates, putting his phone away into his pocket after typing a response back. you both share a look and a smile, before continuing your previous conversation and finishing your food.

making it home a little past finn’s bedtime, you both didn’t know what you would walk into. bedtime was finn’s only struggle, therefore him being awake when you arrived home wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for what both you and your husband expect.

except, when you walk in, your house is clean, quiet, and calm. carlos stands from the couch in order to greet the both of you, while you’re both scrambling to pick your jaws off the floor.

“i’m assuming it went well?” you ask with a laugh while carlos brings you into a light hug.

“si, finn was a gentlemen. he passed out on the couch by seven and i just carried him into his room after that,” you and lando share a look of disbelief before carlos continues, “we played with some cars, ate some dinner, watched a movie, and he went down really easily,”

“can you move in?” lando pops the question into the conversation as carlos laughs off the request, “i’m serious, sainz,” your husband pushes again.

“did you two enjoy your night?” the ferrari driver ignores his friends jokes, directing his attention to you.

“we did, thank you so much for this, carlos,” you respond with a smile, “we really appreciate it,”

carlos gives you another hug goodbye and you begin to make your way towards finn’s room to check on him as lando walks carlos out, continuing his pestering of ‘how did you do it, mate?’ and ‘you don’t understand he hates bedtime’.

you stand in the doorway of your son’s room for some time, admiring the sleepy boy all cozy under his racecar blankets. feeling a hand on your waist, you turn and catch your husband in a kiss.

“let’s go to bed, love,” he offers once you break apart. you give him a silent nod, and you both make your way into your bedroom - lando stealing one last glance at your son.

walking into your bedroom, you discard your heels and begin to unzip your dress.

“ah, ah,” lando stops your movements, replacing your hands on the zipper with his own, “allow me,” you giggle a bit as he continues to unzip your dress, letting it pool onto the floor. he pulls your back into him and begins to pepper your skin with sweet and sensual kisses as you blush in his hold, “we still need to make baby number two,” he mumbles into your skin while continuing his kisses. your body stiffens, lando feeling and understanding the tension releases your body and turns you to face him.

“what is it, y/n? do you not want another baby anymore?” he asks quietly, as if he’s scared of your answer.

“no, no. it’s not that,” you reply, head hanging down to stare at your feet.

“then what is it?” lando cups your chin in his hands with his question, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“it’s just that,” you sigh, searching lando’s eyes, “we don’t need to keep trying, if there’s already a baby on the way,”

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zepskies · 24 days ago

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Headcanon: Sleepwalking

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader, Jason Teague x Reader

AN: @jackles010378 This one's for you, hun! 😘

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Mainly fluff, implied sex, nakedness

HC: How Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Jason would react to you sleepwalking.

Dean Winchester

At first, Dean can't understand why you hesitate to sleep with him after, well, sleeping with him.

Did he read you wrong? Is just this something casual for you? The thought makes him swallow, jaw clenching, but if that's how you want it...he can try to be okay with that.

Seeing the hurt he's trying to bury behind his eyes, you settle down beside him in bed and stroke his cheek. You assure him that you're staying. Even though in the back of your mind, you're hoping and praying.

Please, God. Not tonight...

It happens around 3:00 in the morning.

Dean feels you stir on your side of his bed. He's a light sleeper at the best of times, so he turns to see you tossing the covers off your half-naked body and getting out of bed.

"Where're you going?" he says, playfully trying to grab your hand. But you slip right out of his hold without answering him, padding to the door and leaving the room.

Still half-asleep, but now thoroughly bewildered, Dean's brows furrow, and he gets up to follow you. You would never walk out of a room wearing just his shirt and nothing else, your bare feet slapping the floor with every step. He hopes Sam isn't up and about at this hour.

It takes him a while, but Dean finds you in the kitchen. There you seem to be trying to put together a bowl of Cheerios. The box is already on the counter. You're opening cupboards and leaving them open, your hands searching for a bowl.

"What'cha doin' sweetheart? Little midnight snack action? I can get behind that," Dean says.

You don't even seem to hear him. Dean watches you grab a mug instead of a bowl...and the orange juice instead of milk.

It all goes downhill from there.

"I did what?" you exclaim the next morning. "See! This is why I didn't wanna tell you."

You cover your face in your hands in mortification while Dean rubs your back, chuckling so hard he can't even breathe. You smack him in the stomach, but it doesn't stop his wheezing. He kisses you on the cheek to placate you.

"It's okay, baby. I didn't know coffee grounds and O.J. went so well together."

Beau Arlen

The first night you stay over at his air stream trailer, you warn him ahead of time while you sit beside him on the narrow bed.

"Just so you know, I um..." Getting out the words are difficult. You give him a wan smile in embarrassment, but he's listening intently, waiting for you to finish.

You sigh and decide to bite the bullet. "I tend to sleepwalk."

Just as you predicted, Beau's brows shoot up in surprise.

"Really?" he says, a smile starting to curve his lips.

Your lips twitch at a smile as well. "Yes, so I don't wanna hear any wisecracks. It runs in my family, unfortunately."

"Wow, a whole family of sleepwalkers, huh?" he muses, rubbing a hand over his bearded chin. "Gotta say, I'd like to see that--"

You cut off his chuckling with a shove of his shoulder.

But that night, Beau is startled awake when you trip over his shoes left on the floor, beside a small pile of his clothes and yours that you two hadn't bothered to pick up.

You aren't hurt too badly -- just a bruised forehead and very confused the next morning.

But from then on, Beau takes your condition more seriously.

Every night, he makes sure his place is clean and organized so you don't trip on anything.

He puts a child lock on the door in case you try to open it while sleepwalking, and he keeps the sliding door to the bathroom open in case you need to get in there.

Most importantly, he locks his guns away in a safe inside his nightstand.

His objective is making sure you're safe and comfortable whenever you're with him.

Though he can't help teasing you a little bit (a lot) when you rearrange his entire sock and underwear drawer in your sleep, perfectly folded and color coded.

"Well, thanks very much, darlin'," he grins.

You shake your head, covering your warm, blushing face.

"Shut up."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

"What the fuck?" Ben wipes his bleary eyes, but he still can't believe what he's seeing.

He watches in bewilderment when he finds you in the kitchen in the middle of the night. Completely naked. Frying up some bacon to go with your toast, apparently.

Not that naked cooking doesn't appeal to him. In fact, the sight of you from behind -- your hair loose over your shoulders, the curve of your waist and the gentle swell of your hips, bare ass and legs, and the hint of side boob while your hands move deftly with the pan and silver utensil...

It's arousing, even erotic, making his cock twitch in his sweatpants.

And it actually fits pretty well with one of his fantasies that he's been wanting to try out with you.

But this is also more than a little fucking strange. You're usually dead to the world until at least 9:00 a.m.

"Sweetheart, what're you doing?" he asks. He approaches you from behind and rests a hand on your lower back as he peers over your shoulder, but you don't answer him.

When a large spark of grease pops in the pan, you barely even flinch when it hits your arm and burns you.

Instinctively, he knows something's wrong. He grabs the pan out of your hand and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you away from the crackling grease. He turns off the stove and steps back with you in his arms.

"Hey, are you hearing me? What the fuck's going on here?" he asks.

Your eyes seem glazed over, until he (gently) slaps at your cheek.

"Hey."

Finally, you blink faster a few times, take a deeper breath, and glance up at him. "Hey..."

Your brows furrowing, you look around the room in confusion. Your eyes widen when you look down at your naked body. You gasp and cling to his arms. "What the hell?!"

"Were you fucking sleepwalking?" Ben asks, his lips twitching in amusement and incredulity all at once.

"Oh my God, you tell me!" you exclaim. This has never happened to you in your life! What the hell is going on?

He leads you back to the bedroom, and after putting your pajamas back on, you inspect the pill bottle on your nightstand. Ben gave it to you to help knock out the spell of insomnia you've been having.

After reading the list of side effects, you toss the bottle at your man's chest, even knowing he'll barely feel it.

"This is the last time I let you give me Ambien!"

Bonus! Jason Teague

What the hell did you take? Jason wonders, as he tries to keep you from unclipping your seatbelt.

The two of you are on a plane halfway to France on vacation.

You're a nervous flyer, but you just woke up from a dead sleep after taking that little pill an hour ago.

And you're apparently "feeling happy," in your words, your head rolling onto his shoulder with a giggle.

"Jase," you stage whisper (loudly). You raise a finger and swirl it around the air. "My face is hot. I'm hot. I'm hot for...you."

You tweak the tip of his nose.

He laughs a bit nervously, despite his genuine amusement. A mother looks their way with a raised brow. She puts a pair of headphones on her little boy and gives him an iPad to focus on. Jason shoots her an awkward smile and wave. Then he focuses back on you.

"Okay. Sweetheart, I like the enthusiasm, but I think you just need to sleep off the rest of whatever this is," he says. He grabs a blanket to cover you with.

"Hmm, okay."

Eventually you settle down and snuggle into him. He smiles in relief, soothing a hand over your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He soon falls asleep himself.

When he wakes, you're no longer sitting beside him. His eyes popping open wide, he sits up and leans out of the aisle. He doesn't see you at all in the first class cabin.

Jason shoots up out of his seat and hurries down the other way, through the curtain where business and economy sit.

Sure enough, a flight attendant is following you up and down the aisle trying to get your attention, but you don't even seem to be hearing him.

"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" the attendant tries. He seems to be getting frustrated. "There's turbulence, miss. It's not safe for you to be--"

Jason hurries to you and grabs your arm just as the plane begins to tremble and shake. He knows there's something wrong if you're not freaking out right now. You should be clinging to him like a koala, not wearing a blank expression on your face as you glance up at him.

"Aw shit, you're sleepwalking," he realizes breathlessly. What the hell did you take?

He knows you told him, but now he feels guilty for not really listening as he and the flight attendant help you back to your seat.

Once you're clipped back into a seatbelt along with him, Jason sighs in relief now that he knows you're safe and sleeping more peacefully. Looks like you two are going to have an adventure before you even get to Paris.

He fishes out the little bottle from your bag and reads the label.

Xanax. Jesus Christ. One thing's for sure, Jason is throwing it out when you guys land.

You'll thank him when you wake up.

AN: 😂 I had more fun than I thought with this one! Let me know what you think, and if there are other characters you'd like to see the next time I do one of these headcanons. 😘💜

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obxsummer · 22 days ago

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overdrive // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: a guaranteed 5k payment turns into a diving mission that gives john b more stress than he needs, jj learns why he needs to take a safety stop, and despite being in the hospital, you're just happy to have some peace and quiet in your boyfriend's arms.

warnings: spoilers for s4 ep2, the usual obx kinda shit

navigation -- series masterlist

“Do you guys know anybody that’s been here, because I don’t?”

“Nope.”

“Sarah, you must know somebody that’s been here, right? I mean like all Kooks, they… they know each other.”

“Are you kidding me?”

You tuned out the rumored conversations of the group as John B drove the boat toward Goat Island, the location of which Genrette asked you all to meet to discuss the possible Blackbeard treasure. While the idea of getting back into this treasure hunt wasn’t one you enjoyed, it felt more normal than you anticipated.

The island looked like any other, but the amount of trees and greenery was in abundance compared to Kildare. You could see an older man waiting on the dock as you all got closer. The lack of upkeep made you shiver, knowing this likely wasn’t going to be very welcoming.

“This place is 200 years old and they still don’t have a road that doesn’t go underwater twice a day.”

You shifted in your seat as Pope and JJ grabbed the ropes to tie off, and your boyfriend greeted the man politely as they stood. Silence followed and the man continued to stare at all of you. “Welcome to Blackstone.”

You all shared awkward glances as he walked away without another word. JJ offered you his hand to climb out of the HMS Pogue, his palm shifting to rest on your back as the group moved forward to follow.

“So uh, what have you been digging?” Your boyfriend attempted to dissolve the awkward tension but wasn’t fairing well.

“Ditches.” The reply was hoarse and simple.

“Ditches,” JJ repeated, “At least it’s not graves.”

“All the same to me.”

You didn’t like the atmosphere that this visit was suddenly bringing and brought JJ’s hand to hold in your own. Something seemed creepy and off as if you were walking straight into a trap.

“Uh, so how long have you been working for Mr. Genrette?” John B continued.

The man you were following came to a pause in his walk, sparing a glance at the group of you over his shoulder. “As long as I can remember.”

Your path eventually went up a flight of stairs to a large white house before the man pointed you in that direction. JJ thanked him and continued to approach, dropping your hand in favor of using the door knocker to announce your arrival.

“Oh, just a little quick FYI, they drug you before they chop you up.”

You smacked JJ’s shoulder in annoyance, hating the way it settled in your spine with goosebumps. “You’re an ass.”

He held his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying, don’t eat or drink anything.”

“Not funny.”

“Yeah, guys. I think I’ve changed my mind about this one. I-I really don’t wanna be here,” Sarah voiced the thoughts that were running through your mind as you nodded in agreement, Kie echoing the statement.

You didn’t get a chance to make a run for it as the locks on the door began to click open, revealing another man in a white button-up with a sweater tied loosely around his neck. “Hi. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. It’s quite a big house and I’m… I’m afraid the servants have all gone. All except, uh, good old Demp. Just can’t seem to get rid of him. Uh, you must be the… the Pogues. The Great Seekers.”

John B tilted his head in skepticism. “Yeah, I.. I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, now, don’t you be modest. I’ve read of your adventures. It’s quite thrilling,” The man disregarded your brother’s hesitance. “Uh, come in, come in. I.. I’m the son-in-law. Chandler Groff. Wes was really, really hoping you’d show. He’s been waiting.”

JJ pulled your hand back in his as he stepped forward, letting you walk ahead of him before he shifted to hide you behind his back in case anyone jumped out. “Yeah, pleasure. JJ.”

The six of you walked into the next room, taking in the dreary scenery. Cobwebs covered every surface in the house, dripping off the lights and walls, making you question what actually went on there. It seemed like a staged haunted house, which honestly was worse than it being a real one.

“This place smells like dead bodies.”

You glared at your brother’s comment, hating that he was right. Nothing in this house eased your fears about this being a bad idea. Chandler led you into another room, this one containing a fireplace and the man you’d come to know as Wes Genrette.

“Come in, please, please. Warm yourselves by the fire,” He greeted and waved you all in the large study. There was no light besides the rays attempting to creep in the windows, casting the room in a cold atmosphere. “I apologize for dragging you all out here, but I… I don’t think I could speak about this in public. I know I mentioned Blackbeard, but I assure you all, my interest is not for treasure.”

The six of you scattered around the various seating options in the room. JJ was seated on the armrest of the chair you occupied; his hand warm on the back of your neck as he rubbed the skin softly. John B and Sarah were on your other side with Pope, Cleo, and Kiara across from you.

“My ancestor, Francis Genrette, was the British officer who caught and killed the notorious pirate.”

Pope shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he turned to face the older man. “Wait. Your… your direct ancestor?”

Wes nodded. “Mhm. Yes, unfortunately. After he’d beheaded Blackbeard, he killed the pirate’s wife, Elizabeth. And since then, for 300 years, generations of Genrettes have been haunted by Elizabeth’s ghost and have died violent deaths. Including my daughter, Larissa. Chandler’s wife.”

You glanced over where the mentioned individual was standing, noticing he seemed unphased by the story being played out. It did strike you oddly that he lived with his father-in-law, figuring that he would’ve had his own home with Larissa for their family.

“My daughter saw Elizabeth a week before she died,” Wes continued as he focused his gaze on the portrait of Larissa that was hung above the fireplace. “Now, I’ve had a visitation. So, I know I don’t have much time.”

John B cleared his throat as he pulled his attention away from the haunting painting. “Right, uh. So, we’re really sorry that happened to you, but what do you want from us?”

Wes nodded in understanding of the skepticism. “Of course. Let’s get down to business. Chandler.”

“We believe that we’ve found a way to break the curse on this family,” Chandler took up the explanation and he pointed to a piece of the painting of Elizabeth that showed a large amulet. “Right before she was murdered, Elizabeth begged Francis to retrieve from her husband’s ship a keepsake that he’d given her. Her most prized possession. An amulet. He denied the request and then murdered her. “

“But if we find that amulet, fulfilling Elizabeth’s last request, I believe it will break the curse that has haunted my family for over 300 years,” Wes said.

You weren’t fully convinced a necklace would magically make this all disappear; the whole situation reminded you too much of Limbrey and her need for the cross to cure her disease. It just didn’t seem feasible.

Kie must’ve been thinking the same as she spoke up, “Okay. Um… I’m sorry, where did you say that necklace thingy is?”

“Blackbeard’s last ship, the Adventure.”

“Perfect,” You mumbled quietly, knowing this was going to fly off the rails quickly, as did every treasure hunt you guys went after. Another underwater search? No thanks.

Chandler continued, “According to all records, the amulet was still on it when it was scuttled right off Goat Island.”

Pope nodded in understanding. “Right, yeah, but the Coast Guard excavated that site years ago,” He explained.

“The excavation team didn’t know what we know,” Mr. Genrette tried to reason. He handed Pope over a book, pointing out something in the tattered pages. “They didn’t have this. There’s a secret lockbox hidden behind the headboard in the captain’s chamber. Do you dive?”

“We dive. All… all of us do,” JJ lied before anyone had a chance to disagree. You pinched his knee softly in warning. “It’s just, we only do it if the price is right.”

Wes didn’t seem upset by the comeback. “Excellent. We are prepared to offer you a premium for your services. Fifty thousand, plus expenses. Five thousand up front. And we would very much like your immediate answer.”

John B thankfully moved before JJ had a chance to open his mouth again. “We just need to think it through. We’ll be right back.” He grabbed the shoulder of your boyfriend’s shirt, nearly dragging him out of his seat to another room with the rest of you quickly following.

“What was that!”

“We have to think.”

“This is weird,” You echoed Kie and Sarah’s statements. “I mean it sounds like Limbrey 2.0, no? I don’t like it. We can just slip out the back.”

John B paced behind the couch. “Are we really going to listen to the guy who should be in a white padded room? Visitations? Curses?”

“He’s a madman!” Cleo agreed.

“Obviously, he’s batshit, but he’s in there crying about his daughter. Like, he needs help,” Sarah tried to reason.

Kie shook her head. “He needs therapy, not a necklace thing. We cannot ignore the fact that there is a ghost and a curse. Y’all aren’t getting weird ass vibes?”

“Okay. Guys.” Cleo pulled the conversation back in. “Let’s just say we take this job. Is it even possible?”

“Yes,” JJ’s voice was monotone as he responded. You shook your head at him, knowing it probably was, but you didn’t want to find out.

“I knew what you would say,” Cleo dismissed him, knowing he was eager to get any and all money. “Everybody else?”

With a soft groan, you ran your hands across your face. “I don’t like it.”

“That ship is probably 80-100 feet down. The currents are probably ripping.”

“Guys,” JJ whispered harshly, “Are we really gonna worry about the details right now?”

A resounding “Yes!” followed his question.

JJ shook his head, looking at all of you as if the answer was obvious. “In our time of need, are we really gonna turn down free money? No! That’s not like us.”

“It’s not free!” You argued back as you made eye contact with him. “Babe-”

“The worst that can happen is we walk out of here with 5 Gs in our pocket. End of discussion.”

“That’s not the worst!

“We could go to jail, we could die, we could-”

JJ seemingly ended the discussion for everyone as he ignored the concerns and walked back to the room where Wes and Chandler were waiting. “Sir, we’ve come to our conclusion, and we’ll do it. We’ll take the job.”

A deep sigh left your mouth, your forehead dropping to Sarah’s shoulder in frustration at JJ’s willingness to throw your group into danger. Pope intercepted JJ’s attempts at taking the initial 5k payment as Wes and Chandler thanked you all graciously.

Chandler reached out to grab JJ’s shoulder. “Hey, JJ. I believe in you.”

You stared at the awkward moment, listening as JJ thanked him before moving back to you, grabbing your hand to lead the group out of the house. You risked looking over your shoulder to see the creepy smile on Chandler Groff’s face as he watched your group disappear from view.

Looking up at your boyfriend as you made it out, you could tell he was a little thrown off guard. “Jayj?”

“I’m fine, baby,” His response was quiet as he tried to convince you before plastering a convincing smile back on his face. “Let’s go, y’all! We got work to do.”

JJ’s whole mood had taken a turn with the five grand in hand, and the plan in place on the dive. What Wes had said was lining up with the information in the captain’s log, to your dismay. You were kind of hoping on the trail to end cold and avoid JJ diving into wreckage in the first place.

While the boys, Kie, and Cleo took the liberty of attempting to find more info on the location of the wreck, you and Sarah managed the store in the meantime. You were restocking and organizing the surrounding items while Sarah took the register.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” A stern voice broke you from your routine as you looked over. You quickly recognized the man as the one who kept going head-to-head with JJ on the auction for the house, and he didn’t look like he was here to be nice. “Y’all remember me?”

“How could we forget?” Your tone was sickly sweet but you let the sarcasm sink in. Walking behind the counter, you stopped next to Sarah and placed your fingers on the switchblade Cleo left under the register in a safety precaution.

The man nodded and slid a paper toward Sarah. “Hmm, like that attitude. No wonder Cameron liked to keep you around. I’ve got something for you here. I can take this place off your hands at any time. For a fair price.”

Sarah chuckled softly. “I don’t think that’s necessary. But can we offer you a keychain? Maybe a… glass bong, a pipe? You look like you need one.”

He looked away to not face the two of you as if he was assessing your work so far. “You know, y’all are gonna lose this place. You might as well sell now.”

You rolled your eyes and motioned toward the dock where he came. “Whatever you said, old man. And you can tell Cameron to kiss my ass if he comes asking.”

Sarah picked up the paper, her eyes moving quickly as she skimmed it before holding it out. You glanced at her expression and took it, instantly clocking the Public Notice, Change of Zoning.

“My dad used to do that all the time. It’s changing the zoning, it’s a way to force owners out of their property.”

You groaned and set it down. “Pope went through hell to get it changed in the first place. How can they change it back?”

“If someone’s got the money to do it, what’s it matter?”

“What are we gonna tell the others?” Your voice dropped to a whisper as you looked at her, the realization sinking in that this would cost more than you could account for, even with the fronted 5k.

She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

You read the paper fully, wishing there was some form of hope to find hidden in the language but came up empty-handed. “We’ll tell JB first. He’ll know what to do.”

Sarah didn’t say anything but you could feel her chin rest on your shoulder before you dropped yours to lean against her. This was just another nail in the coffin that the world seemed to be building around your family.

And it was getting really hard to feel like they weren’t winning.

“My lady.”

You laughed as JJ tossed a blanket over your face, his warm body climbing in the hammock next to yours with a rough shove. Pulling the fabric away from your eyes, you were met with his crystal blue ones staring right back.

“Hi.”

It took less than two seconds for him to kiss you, the movement rough and warm. You hummed at his action, loving the way he seemed to know exactly how to hold you and bring butterflies to your stomach every time.

Fingers slipped into his hair, gently pulling the blond strands when he bit down on your lip with a soft gasp, everything heating with each second. JJ’s leg slipped between yours as you leaned up to chase his lips before the hammock moved sharply, threatening to throw the two of you to the ground.

“Okay, okay,” You giggled as he shifted his weight back down, wet kisses on your neck coming shortly after. “They will kill us if they catch us out here again.”

“We need our own place then.”

You huffed, pulling his head awake from your neck where he was starting something he couldn’t finish. “As much as I would love to do this right now, we have to talk about the dive.”

JJ groaned loudly in faux annoyance and dropped his weight on you completely like a slug. “Why can’t we just have sex and figure it out later?”

“Because Sarah already heard us last night and I’m trying to save you from John B if it happens again,” You explained with a smile before kissing his forehead. “Come on. Please.”

“Fine, fine.” He looked up at you with full attention. “What about the dive?”

You studied his face for a second, wondering how after all these years he still looked at you like you put the stars in the sky despite everything the two of you had gone through. “I wanna go with you.”

His response was instant, “No.”

“I wasn’t asking,” You shot back sternly. “You’re not going alone. I won’t let you.”

JJ brushed the hair out of your face gently and shook his head. “Sweetheart, it’s 80 feet down in the dark and moving through structures.”

You smirked at him. “Exactly, and that’s why you’ll need backup and I’m going.”

He sighed and dropped his head to your chest, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear.

“Hmm?”

“I said your brother is going to kill me.”

A bubble of laughter escaped you at the thought of John B flipping his shit, which he would when you told him. You rubbed JJ’s back gently as the sunset dipped behind the skyline, nighttime beginning to make its appearance. “Come on babe, where you go, I go, remember? Includes bottom of the ocean.”

“Okay, now when you say it like that, it sounds really bad,” He grumbled and took your hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “Yeah, okay. I don’t like it but you’re gonna do it anyway. But if John B says no, I’m not arguing with him.”

You rolled your eyes, “You won’t have to. I’ll handle it. You just gotta look pretty and make sure I don’t get the bends.”

“I’ve bent your ass over before and-”

“JJ!”

The next morning, you made your way out to the shop where Sarah usually drank her morning coffee. The two of you didn’t sleep well with anxiety of the night ahead and you stayed up into the late hours trying to figure out how to deal with the zoning issue.

“Hey,” You whispered as you pulled JJ’s zip up closer over your chest and approached her. The morning chill was starting to set in, causing you to shiver.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, a Kildare Surf Co. mug held tightly in her grasp to warm her fingers. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shook your head no and leaned on the railing next to her, the two of you soaking up the sunrise and calm water. Times like this were so peaceful and grounding that you appreciated them more than the eye could tell. It was a reminder that each day was a brand new start despite how the last one ended.

“What are you two doing up?” John B found you faster than you anticipated, his Converse quiet on the wood compared to his usual rowdy steps. He still looked half asleep in his long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, his hair unruly as he gave Sarah a soft greeting kiss.

He moved to you next with a kiss on the forehead and a hug you refused to pull away from. John B always gave the best hugs. They were warm and a safe space for you, more than he had ever been in the previous years. The protectiveness had gotten stronger with the knowledge that your dad really wasn’t coming back and at the end of the day, all you would have is each other.

“You okay?” He asked quietly, palm holding your head to his chest when you tightened your grip after a few moments.

“I’ve gotta talk to you.”

He whistled lowly. “Don’t like the sound of that first thing in the morning.”

Sarah pulled the folded paper out from her hoodie pocket to hold it toward him. John B let go of you to take it, his eyes scanning the words before he let out a soft, “Shit.”

“The guy who tried to outbid us at the auction stopped by yesterday,” Sarah explained as she crossed her arms over her chest, shifting to face the two of you with her back to the railing. “He dropped it off, and said we’ll lose everything.”

John B shook his head and folded the paper back up. “Does anyone else know?”

“Just us. Pope’s going to freak out,” She replied, stepping toward your brother to lean into his side. “I’m sorry, I don’t know-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” John B shushed her and pulled her closer. “We’re gonna figure it out. It’s not the best thing to start the morning with but…”

You kicked your shoes into the wood. “Yeah, I’m about to make it worse. I’m diving with JJ.”

“No, absolutely not.”

You rolled your eyes, repeating what you’d told JJ yesterday. “John B, I’m not asking. I’m telling you.”

“Did he put you up to this?” He tossed his hands out to the side, motioning toward the house. “Because I’ve told him-”

“JB, stop,” You interrupted whatever rude thing was about to come out of his mouth. “No, JJ didn’t put me up to it. He’s not happy about it either, but it’s my decision. I’m not letting him go down there alone.”

John B shook his head in disagreement. “Then I’ll go. Or Pope can, it doesn’t have to be you.”

“Pope knows exactly where the wreckage is and I don’t steer the boat as well as you.”

“Kie, then.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Oh, so Kie’s allowed to but I’m not?”

John B groaned and shoved his hands to his face. “You’re making this really difficult.”

“It’s not your decision. And there may not be anything down there anyway, so quit worrying about it until there’s something to worry about,” You tried your best not to sound angry toward him, knowing he had your interests in mind. “John B, please let me help.”

Sarah placed her hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be fine. If anything, it’s going to keep JJ’s mind on safety, which is a good thing, okay?”

John B kept his eyes on you. You could practically see the thoughts moving behind his eyes, thinking if there was any way to talk you out of it, but he came up empty.

Which led you here, to you and JJ slipping on wetsuits while John B and Pope navigated and Sarah, Cleo, and Kie kept an eye out from land. You hissed as JJ’s fingers skimmed your back to zip up the material, sending shivers down your spine with the coolness.

“Sorry, sorry,” He apologized before helping you lift the BCD and remaining gear on. “Honestly, it’s kind of like surfing the point, you know. We’re upstream, and then the rip is just gonna… take us out.”

Mumbled agreements came from Pope and John B, none of them convincing in the slightest. You glared at the three boys. “You guys are not helping my nerves.”

“Okay, then take the wetsuit off and-”

You smacked John B’s shoulder, knowing he still wasn’t happy about the situation. “If I got JJ to shut up, you can too. Come on.”

“Don’t forget your safety stop,” Pope reminded as JJ loaded the speargun he insisted on taking. “Fifteen feet for three minutes. Hear that, JJ? Fifteen feet, three minutes.”

“Yeah, copy that.” The reply was direct as he pulled his goggles to his forehead. JJ’s attention shifted to you as you got to your feet and he reached out to grab your shoulder. “Hey, you good?”

You tried your best to keep the worry off your face and nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

The water was colder than you expected, and the water was so, so dark. The underwater lights did a little to help but it still was dim unless you were on something. You followed JJ’s lead further down, feeling the pressure begin to set in as the depth increased.

To your shock, the flashlight hit an algae-covered figure that belonged at the front of a pirate ship. You didn’t think you would find it this fast, let alone that it would be real. Your gaze met JJ’s the excitement seeping in as the two of you moved forward to where Pope said would be best to enter.

Fish and sand flew in every direction as you moved water around while swimming, the sight almost beautiful if it wasn’t deadly too. JJ quickly found the door to shift, pushing inside the area that would lead to the Captain’s Quarters where the secret compartment was above the headboard.

You reached forward to push on the stone that had grown over time until you found a soft spot that shifted. Using Cleo’s knife to dig it out, you reached inside to feel for the supposed treasure that was supposed to be there.

JJ called your name and moved his light away, bringing what looked like a fresh set of tools into view. Which could only really mean one thing: someone else was down here.

You didn’t have time to think before the back of your neck was grabbed harshly, pulling you further down in the water and disorienting your entire body. Attempting to scream was nearly impossible with the mouthpiece as you kicked and shoved against the person who had grabbed you and pushed you out of JJ’s view.

The faint sounds of him yelling for you were barely there as you tried to get your bearings back. You caught a glimpse of his flashlight and began to move in that direction when hands grabbed your waist again and yanked backward.

“Let go!” You tried to yell, lashing back with your elbow and Cleo’s knife in an attempt to defend yourself. Things only got worse when your oxygen supply was stolen, the mouthpiece ripping away with the guy’s force as something cut along your arm. You caught sight of him swimming away but were hit with the harsh reality that your source of air was gone, left only with the deep breath you managed to steal.

Panic set in quickly, sending you into survival mode as you did your best to swim to wear JJ was last seen. Noises helped guide and you could make out him using debris to break the worn structure and free himself. Your lungs burned with the lack of oxygen and you were starting to believe you wouldn’t even make it to him before passing out.

“Hey, hey.” His voice was hardly recognizable before he lunged forward, placing the emergency mouthpiece in your grasp for air to flood your lungs. “You okay? We gotta go. We gotta go.”

You caught the faint beeping signal that warned JJ’s air supply was almost out as he started guiding the two of you back to the surface. Your brain was still in survival mode and the only thing you wanted to do was get the hell out of the water as soon as you could.

The second the water broke away, you dropped the mouthpiece JJ had provided and gasped for air. He coughed aggressively behind you, the two of you reaching out for each other in relief that you had made it back.

“Oh my god, shit. Are you okay?” His hands reached out for you in search of immediate injuries.

“Yeah, yeah,” You choked on water and ripped the mask from your head to see him clearly. “Who the hell was that? And where’s John B?”

There was so much fog you couldn’t see and your flashlights had been lost in the fight to escape so JJ yelled out for your brother until you caught sight of the boat. Pope quickly tossed the ladder over as John B reached out for you.

“Hey, hey, hand me your stuff. Where’s your BCD?” He asked as he grabbed your elbows and lifted you out of the water like it was the easiest thing ever.

You hit the floor of the boat relatively hard, still heaving for air in your lungs. “It’s gone.”

“What do you mean it’s gone?”

“I mean it’s gone!” It came out more aggressive than you meant for it to. “There’s a guy that tried to kill us!”

John B immediately tried to pull the remaining gear and wetsuit off you as Pope explained the boat that was up here, confirming your story. Your brother wrapped your shoulders in his lightweight shirt and ran to start the engine, pushing the boat back in the direction of home.

“You guys okay?” Pope asked as he watched JJ collapse down next to you. The only answer he received was a thumbs up from your boyfriend, the two of you still coming down from the adrenaline rush.

The drive back was a blur and thankfully, you were back on land with your friends before you had time to even process what had just happened.

“Someone tried to kill us,” You echoed again when John B repeated his question. You kept your head against the seat, trying to clear the fog from your brain that didn’t seem to go away as you took deep breaths. It had been a good 15 minutes back and you still couldn’t seem to shake it.

“What? Why? That doesn’t make sense. Why would someone try to kill you?”

“Obviously, they were going after the same thing we were, right?”

You groaned as they continued to talk. There was a searing pain making its way through your body and no matter how much you tried to focus on their words, you couldn’t. Sarah’s face was suddenly in front of you, her hands on your cheeks. You could see her mouth moving but couldn’t hear her voice.

John B was quickly next to you, his arms grabbing your waist alongside Sarah before you were being moved without another word. Blurry sights eventually told you that the group was in the Twinkie, and there was so, so much yelling, but you couldn’t catch it enough to ask what was going on.

“Ow, shit,” You groaned and curled into a ball against Kiara’s side, willing the pain to go away if you coiled small enough. Turning to her, you blinked a few times to steady your sight before speaking, “Hey, guess what?”

“Just hold on, we’re almost there,” She pleaded, eyes watching you with concern.

You shifted as much as you could, whimpering with the movement as you managed to get your hand in the swim shorts you’d been wearing to pull out the heavy-weight item in your palm.

“You found it?” Sarah’s voice sounded so loud in your head as she grabbed the balled towel from your grip. “Holy shit.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” John B asked as he looked over as best as he could while driving.

You coughed painfully and flipped him off, “Too busy dying, Booker.”

Cleo praised your efforts, calling you a rockstar and every other achievement in the book but you couldn’t hear over the noises that were setting in your skull. Every movement felt like an attack on your skin as your friends lifted you and JJ from the car into what you assumed was the hospital.

John B’s arm was tight around your waist as he and Cleo carried your weighted form. Your brother informed the hospital staff everything you couldn’t hear and the next thing you knew, you were surrounded by red lights and metal with JJ’s body next to you.

A pained whimper left your throat as you collapsed against the mattress that was beneath you, curling into your side again to try and disappear from it all. JJ’s own sounds of distress were hurtful to hear so you forced yourself to turn over to see him. Every muscle in your body felt like it was on fire, but you managed to grab his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly.

“I got you,” You whispered quietly as the room darkened and quieted. It took a few minutes but everything seemed to slow down. Your muscles were still tense and cramping, but you could hear and see better than 15 minutes ago, which was a plus.

JJ’s breathing evened out, and even though you were sure he was sleeping, you refused to take your hand out of his. You caught movement in your peripheral and shifted to see your brother standing in the doorway, watching you carefully.

A coil smile tugged your lips as you flipped him off with your free hand, which was easily returned by him. His mouth moved slow enough for you to read out “I love you, dumbass” before he disappeared from your vision and you fell into the best sleep of your life.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed that you lay there with JJ, the two of you breathing softly. You swore your heart was beating too loud that he could hear it, but you were just relieved to have your body back to yourself.

A nurse had come by not too long ago to explain the effects of the nitrogen in your blood and how the treatment process would go from there. You tried your best to listen, but your head was so heavy and exhausted that it was difficult.

“Babe.”

You hummed in response to JJ’s whisper, your eyes still closed as you rested against his chest. His heartbeat was steady in your ear, a reminder that the two of you were still here together and would be okay.

“You almost died.” You shifted slightly to look at him, twisting your leg between his to get impossibly closer, and pushed up on your hands to see him fully. His eyes were wet, and he looked so, so stressed. “I should’ve never let you go down there.”

A small smile graced your lips as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Then who would’ve saved your life?”

“Technically, I saved your life so-“

“Okay,” You laughed quietly and settled back against him, pressing another kiss to his jawline. “We both saved each other, yeah?”

His hands were warm as they curled around your bare shoulder to hold you, the two of you a mess of tangled limbs and love inside the small space you were given. “Would’ve never forgiven myself if you didn’t make it out of there.”

“I told you, where you go, I go,” You mumbled into his chest. “That includes tiny ass hyperbaric chambers, too.”

A small laugh left his lips before he kissed you, humming at the sensation it always gave him when you were soft like this. He loved nothing more than sharing moments so sweet and comforting with you. Like you were a calm in the storm that was always ready to strike.

“You know, we’re in here for twelve hours,” You hinted as you looked up into his gaze. “You got anything to do?”

He followed your insinuation and smiled like he had just won the lottery. “Oh, sweetheart. Have I told you I love you lately?”

Hours passed in heated kisses, soft touches, and shared giggles as you and JJ loved each other back to life. It was easy to tell when he wanted more, but you refused to share that part of him in a shitty hospital of all places, despite how much he pleaded with you.

Nurses spewed hospital talk left and right as you tried to enjoy your last few minutes of peace in JJ’s arms. Your time together was almost up, twelve hours turning into 30 minutes before you knew it and part of you was sad to leave it all. As much as you hated confined spaces and hospitals both, you loved having no distractions between you and JJ. It wasn’t often the two of you had the privacy to be vulnerable with each other, especially in a house with siblings and friends, so this was your slice of heaven for the time you had it.

“Hey,” JJ mumbled, pulling you out of your almost-nap. “Babe, wake up. Hey, look at me.”

You shifted lazily, not expecting to be woken up so suddenly but the panic in his voice snapped you out of it. “What? What’s wrong?”

He was frantic as he leaned above you. “There was a guy in the hall just now. I think it was the guy, the dude from the wreck. He-he had a wound right where I got him underwater with the spear gun-“

“Did he see you?” You attempted to get him to focus, to which he nodded. “Great, so he knows we’re here.”

“We gotta get out.”

You sighed and flopped back against the pillows, “Jayj, we have like 10 minutes. Just don’t make a scene and-“

“Ma’am! Miss!” His hand smacked against the window facing the hallway as he attempted to get someone’s attention.”

“JJ!” You grabbed his arm to stop the loud noise as he tried to tell the nurse who the man was and why you needed out. You managed to shove JJ away from the window that he was prepping to kick out. “Hey! Chill!”

The nurse seemed to notice the two of you were in distress and walked closer to hear better. “Just give me like 90 seconds and we’ll get you out, okay?”

“Hey!” He protested and stumbled back to look at you with a panic in his eyes.

You grabbed his face to focus his attention. “Babe, 90 seconds, okay. If we kick the window out, it’s gonna cause a scene and Shoupe will be on our ass, okay? 90 seconds.”

JJ groaned loudly and leaned against the metal wall behind him. The need to fight had him tense, every muscle in his body telling him to run and take you with him no matter what. You knew it had a lot to do with his dad. The first sign of danger made him anxious and jumpy and the quicker he could get everyone to safety, the better.

What didn’t help was him yelling the second the nurse let you both out, shouting about the man in the room next door who tried to kill the two of you.

“JJ!” You reached after him as he moved toward the hallway, barely giving you time to crawl out.

“I’m going to buy you some time, meet me outside!”

You didn’t have a second to argue as he started yelling at the nurses about being left in the chamber too long. Security moved in quickly after in an attempt to calm him down and you watched, horrified, as they started to take him outside.

“I’m gonna file a formal complaint!” He yelled, managing to make eye contact with you as he did. “Okay? File a formal complaint!”

You caught on to his emphasis and cursed under your breath. In his defense, he managed to make enough of a scene that a few patients spilled into the hallway, one male with a bandage on his arm included which gave you the answer you were looking for.

Moving as unsuspiciously as you could, you slid into the room across from the chamber you’d been in. The first thing you caught sight of was the amount of bloody bandages and you quickly turned away from them to focus on the area of the room that wasn’t contaminated.

“File, file, file,” Your voice was low as you searched for any sign of the paper but came up empty-handed. “Shit.”

Figuring the nurse’s station was the next best bet, you started your path there, trying to look like a visitor in a place you most certainly stood out from in your swim shorts, top, and John B’s floral shirt. Thankfully, JJ was still causing enough trouble that you were able to spot the wound picture from the pile of papers and snatch it from the desk, quickly tucking it into your chest and making your way to the exit.

“Guys!” You caught sight of Heyward’s truck, Cleo and Pope sitting inside expectantly for you and JJ, and started running in their direction.

“What’s the rush, girl? Where’s your man?” Cleo popped her head out the window to get a closer look at you.

You didn’t spare the time to answer and stepped on the back tire to push yourself into the bed of the truck. “JJ’s coming, just drive!”

Pope didn’t hesitate to put the car in gear and take off down the exit road from the hospital. Thankfully, JJ must’ve thought the same idea and was coming out the side entrance, down the hill. He spared no time and braced against the side of the truck to jump in before the vehicle even came to a stop.

“Are you okay?” Your question was left unanswered as he tumbled into the bed with no grace whatsoever. From first glance, he was unharmed, and you hoped that remained true.

“You guys know that guy that was down at the wreck and tried to kill us?” JJ rushed out as he spoke to Cleo and Pope through the open back window. “He was there!”

“At the hospital with you?” Pope questioned as he drove away from the building.

“Yes! He was getting stitched up where I got him in with the harpoon gun!”

You handed the file that you’d taken in for Cleo to read, wanting to spare yourself the images of his wound while knowing she had her head on straight unlike you from the adrenaline rush. She took it and scanned the information written.

“Cheese on bread. You two gonna get yourselves killed!”

navigation -- series masterlist

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #obx4 #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x routledge!reader #routledge!reader #john b x sister!reader #jj maybank series #outer banks series

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 1 month ago

Text

Do You Wanna Touch Me?

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) Pairing: Marcus Pike x Sex Worker Female Reader Words Count: 4,200 Summary: After getting his heart broken, Marcus Pike takes an assignment in Amsterdam. What started as an exploration of the red light district turns into choosing you, the most beautiful art he's ever seen. Warnings: sex work, erotic dancing, hand job, masturbation, fingering, oral (m receiving), reader wears makeup and a dress, marcus tries to escape his heartbreak, van gogh mentions, reader is college aged, dieter bravo exists in this universe

A/N: This was written for @baronessvonglitter's Fuck-tober birthday celebration. I was assigned Marcus Pike and "Do You Wanna Touch Me" by Joan Jett. Happy birthday Adriana!!! 💕

Here are the songs I refer to in the fic: “Do You Wanna Touch Me” by Joan Jett “Bed Chem” by Sabrina Carpenter “Streets” by Doja Cat “God Is A Woman” by Ariana Grande “Cinema” by Harry Styles “The Night Me and Your Mama Met” by Childish Gambino Masterlist

---

Marcus doesn’t do things like this. He’s a good man, a good son, a good brother, a good friend, and most of all, a good agent. And yet, he still walks down the cobblestone street that’s bathed in red lights.

LIVE SEX SHOW SEX TOYS SEX PALACE HIGH TIMES

What in the world is he doing here? Curiosity, loneliness, being so fucking horny he can’t focus on the case ahead. You’re a good man he tells himself as he ventures deeper into the crimson alleys, the shadow of shame following closely behind him.

“Hey handsome. Today’s your lucky day.” A blonde man winks, handing him a gilded envelope. “You’re invited to Galerij.”

Marcus blinks down at the golden envelope, looking up to find the blonde stranger already gone from his sight. He opens the envelope, revealing a simple invitation with gold embossed text.

Galerij, Amsterdam’s hottest art pieces. €400

He’s a damn FBI agent, and yet he’s too intrigued and desperate for a distraction to say no. He should know better, his badge weighs heavily in his pocket. He plugs the address into his phone with a sigh and makes the quick walk to the address listed, silently atoning for his sins as he passes the Oude Kerk church. He doesn’t dare make eye contact with any of the police officers situated, they might sense his shame.

“You’ve arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice intones. He looks up at the plain brick row home that stands out amongst the surrounding buildings covered in neon lights with windows full of girls in different levels of undress.

A small gold sign hangs above the unassuming black door. GALERIJ

He inhales deeply and pushes the door open. A bell jingles. Inside, an older looking woman with slicked-back blonde hair and a sharp black suit sits behind a desk.

“Nederlands or English?” she asks, her tone clipped.

“English,” he answers, his throat tight. “Please.”

“Invitation?”

“Oh, uh, here,” he hands her the invitation.

Without any more acknowledgment, she gestures to a black leather chair near an intricately carved golden door. “Please take a seat.”

A bit of trepidation blooms within him as he sits down, but when he looks around, he realizes that this isn’t some seedy back-alley brothel. It can’t be that bad if the walls are covered in mahogany and the floor is marble.

The woman makes a quick phone call, speaking in a hushed voice. His palms grow sweaty. What the hell is he doing? This was supposed to be a quick exploration of something that’s always fascinated him�� legal vices. Yet now, he's gripping the armrests as the same stern woman brings over a clipboard and card machine.

“Cash or charge?”

“Oh, cash?” he replies quickly, fumbling for his wallet. There’s no way he’s going to use a credit card around here, too many chances of his secret adventure getting revealed on a statement.

“400 euros.”

He opens his wallet and unfolds his money. 100, what are you doing? 200, what are you doing? 300, Marcus, seriously, what are you doing? 350, no seriously what are you doing? 400, damn, you’re really doing it.

Stern woman takes the money and hands him a gold pin with a simple G etched onto it. She hits a small gold bell on her desk, a singular ring sharply echoes across the small room.

He pins the pin to his chest, reminding him of all the times he used to pin the old Met Museum badge to his lapel when he was a young college student in New York. This is so much more different than that, he reminds himself.

The golden door opens after a moment.

A beautiful older woman in a dark burgundy skirt and matching jacket walks out with a smile lifting her dark red lips.

“Welcome to Galerij. I am Maud, the curator.” she greets, offering her hand. “What would you like us to call you here?”

He rises and shakes her hand.

Can’t do Marcus, can’t do Pike, can’t do Agent. He thinks of that one actor everyone tells him he looks like. “Uh–Bravo.”

“Very well, Bravo,” she opens the door, moving aside allowing him to walk through. “Welcome to Galerij.”

He steps into a stark white room. The floor is shiny concrete, a singular white table with two white wishbone chairs sit in the middle of the room, a stark contrast to the entrance room on the other side of the wall. Not exactly what he was expecting. The agent in him can’t help but think this would be a perfect place to kill somebody.

Maud motions for him to sit across from her. “Here you will make your decision on what piece you’d like. Gay or straight?”

He sits down, her question is a reminder as to why he’s really here. “Straight,” he answers, his nerves beginning to creep around him.

She nods. “All of our pieces are tested, clean, and practice safe sex. Your piece will tell you what they will and won’t do once you make your choice. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“You will have twenty minutes, your time will start once you enter your gallery. A bell will ring every five minutes, your final bell will ring twice symbolizing your last five minutes. Do not be late. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Of course no photos or recordings. We ask you to not even have your phone out. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ready?” she asks with a smile on her face.

“I am,” he answers. His heart is pounding.

She nods and presses a button, a shrill buzz echoes through the room. A hidden door opens and a large muscle and tattoo clad man with buzzed black hair and a nose ring walks out carrying a red velvet-covered book. He hands it to Maud, before standing behind her like a silent guardian.

His heart races faster than he ever thought it could when she opens the book and pushes it towards him.

GALERIJ with the day's date is stamped on the thick page.

His fingers tremble as he flips to the first page revealing a photo of an olive skinned and brown haired woman clad in dark blue lingerie with delicate yellow stars embroidered all over it lying on top of swirled silky blue sheets. She’s absolutely stunning.

“This is The Starry Night.”

He nods, turning the page.

A pale skinned, petite woman with shockingly white blonde hair wears a light blue bra and lace panties while laying atop white flower petals. She’s just as beautiful as the first woman.

“This is Almond Blossom.”

He turns the page.

A dark skinned, dark haired woman sits against a yellow wall wearing two sunflower blooms over her ample chest. Her smile is wide, just like her eyes lined with bright gold glitter. She’s gorgeous

“This is Sunflowers.”

They all look like they just walked off the runway, all beautiful and alluring. He wonders what–or who–the next piece will be. He smiles to himself when he realizes they’re all named after Van Gogh. Of course he’d find himself in an art themed brothel… he just can’t escape work.

“Before you see my fourth piece, please know she’s a little different. You cannot touch her, only watch. Don’t let that sway your decision, she is our most popular piece.”

He braces himself as he turns the page.

He loses his breath when he sees you. There you are, sitting cross-legged against the same color wall as Sunflowers. He can just see a glimpse of your nipples under your sheer indigo bra. Your green lined eyes leer at the camera. He thanks all the stars in Starry Night for his chance to even get a look at you. He’s lost in time at how your skin glows against the golden wall.

“Wow,” he breathes out.

“I believe you made your decision,” Maud says with a knowing smile. “This is Irises.”

“Yes,” Marcus swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Irises please.”

She nods and closes the book. “Pieter, let Irises know.”

“Okay Bravo,” Maud says with a smile and stands. “Pieter will come and get you when Irises is ready. Please do enjoy my gallery.”

“Thank you Maud,” he says, wiping his sweaty hands against the fabric of his jeans.

The fading sound of Maud and Pieter’s steps and a door closing leaves him all alone in the sparse room.

He hopes he looks good enough for you. His dark blue jeans are presentable enough, his plain gray v neck is clean, he thanks himself for spritzing himself with a dash of cologne before leaving his hotel. He knows he paid the equivalent of close to $450 for you to like him, but he still wants to impress you.

He checks his watch, five minutes have passed. He’s too afraid to bring his phone out, so he just stares forward, nervously tapping his foot.

This wasn’t his plan at all, he was just going to explore and sightsee, nothing more. No drugs, no sex, just curiosity.

The door opens. Pieter appears.

“Irises is ready,” he announces, his accent thick. “Follow me.”

He tentatively trails Pieter through the door walking down a hallway lined with doors. Ornate golden frames hang with Van Gogh pieces in each one. They reach the door with Irises hung next to it.

“Twenty minutes,” Pieter says flatly, opening the door. “Sit in the chair. Do not touch. You watch.”

Marcus nods, his heart slamming against his chest. His knees almost buckle as he steps inside the room.

It’s dark, save for a single spotlight shining down on a small stage, a lone purple velvet high back chair sits waiting for him in the middle of it. His shaky legs take him up the three steps before he lowers into it, hands clenching the wide armrests, trying to control his breathing.

He shouldn't be here–-he knows that. It’s too late for regrets now.

The click-clack of your heels echoes through the room when you step onto the stage. He’s too nervous to turn his head to see you. His body tenses, anticipation coiling all of his muscles tight. When you finally step in front of him, he has to remind himself to breathe.

You’re beautiful, the light catches on the sheer fabric of your dress. He can just make out the curves of your body, naked under light lavender chiffon. Your eyes are lined with deep purple eyeliner, ending into a cat eye at the corners. Your ruby red lips curl up into a knowing smile, almost as if you can see his desire for you.

Four thousand miles away from home and he’s just found the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. His cock begins to thicken, the shame of his paid for voyeurism adventure dissolving from his mind. You’re finer than any masterpiece he’s ever had to investigate.

“Hi Bravo,” you purr, your voice smooth and teasing, “Do you wanna touch me?”

He nods and coughs nervously. “Y-yes. But, I can’t.”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across your lips. “Good boy.”

His back tightens, a wave of heat flows down his spine and settles in his lap. For too long he’s disallowed himself from feeling this type of pleasure. Too busy, too sad, too heartbroken. What led him here feels like a blur. An exchange of glances, a subtle wink, an invitation. The black door, €400 out of his wallet, a white room, an open red velvet book, the long hallway, Irises. He allows himself to enjoy the experience just as you send him a wink.

You’re like his own little gallery show standing in front of him. A piece of art he doesn’t just want to see–but memorize.

—

You’ve only been doing this for a few months now. It really is the perfect side hustle to support yourself while finishing your art degree. You’ve been enamored with Van Gogh’s art since you were a child, a lifelong dream realized when you were accepted into the student exchange program at the University of Amsterdam. You made it possible, and now, working two nights a week in between coursework, you're making more than most of your friends earn in an entire week. Of course, only a select few know what you really mean when you say you work at a very exclusive gallery.

It’s a good job. Maud takes good care of you, vetting those who enter her establishment with her keen client recruiters on the streets. Pieter is always a buzz away, though you’ve never felt danger. Everyone needs an escape, some just agree to pay a premium for it. They call it the oldest profession for a reason.

Bravo. He’s your last customer tonight, and they sure did save the best for last. You watched him approach on the security camera, a smile formed when you noticed how much he resembled your favorite actor, you had plans for him. His wide shoulders, broad body, thin beard, and perfect head of hair almost made you think it was him, if it wasn’t for his eyes flickering around the room nervously. There’s no way Dieter Bravo would be anxious in this type of situation.

You press play on the stereo. A quick drumbeat starts, your steps keep tempo with it as you come back to stand in front of your client.

Turning around and bending over, your hips dance to the beat of the song as your hands roam along your curves, lifting your dress to give him a peek of your thighs and ass. A low groan rumbles behind you.

“Do you like what you see?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, moving your hands up and down your body.

“Y-yes,” he stammers, his nervous eyes wide and plush lips parted.

Those same nervous eyes watch as you bunch the fabric of your dress up and take it off, tossing it aside. He eyes you, brows furrowed in concentration, eyes exploring all of you like you’re a painting hanging in a gallery.

You cup your breasts, feeling the velvety warmth of your skin beneath your fingers as the purple of your nail polish brushes against your hardened nipples. Slowly you tilt your head down and let a trail of spit fall to one nipple.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask, pinching and pulling the sensitive peaks of your nipples. “Mmph–mmhmm,” he groans, nervously shuffling in his seat.

Bending forward and placing your hands on his knees gives him the perfect view of your breasts. A long sigh comes from him, his eyes planted on your tits. You like what you’re doing to him, you never start your dances off this close to a client, but you can’t resist him.

When your hands trail up to his thick thighs, the bulge of his pants makes your mouth water, tempting you to move towards it. Not yet.

Leaning closer, you nuzzle against the warmth of his neck. He smells delicious… like eucalyptus and maple syrup. His quickening breaths puff out against your hair. You taste his skin with your tongue, licking your way up to his ear.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask along with the song.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters.

Pulling away, you wink before turning your back to him and delicately sit atop his lap. Sinking down against his broad chest, the heat radiating off him burns hot against your back. The song changes just as you feel the poke of his erection against your ass.

A poppy beat soundtracks your movements as you grind yourself against the heft of him, falling back, placing your head against his wide chest. Reaching back, your hands tangle in his soft hair, humming sweetly along to the sound, letting a few lyrics slip out of your mouth.

“I bet you we’d really have good bed chem”

Your client follows directions very well, staying perfectly still, gripping the armrests so hard the golden skin around his knuckles turn white. You rub yourself against the rough fabric of his jeans, getting off on the quiet whimpers he leaves in your ear.

RING. The fifteen minute bell rings.

“And I bet it’s even better than in my head”

You rise off his lap and bend over clasping your hands around your ankles, giving him the perfect view of your ass and dripping core. The song fades out, a deeper, sultrier drumbeat begins.

“Like you, like you, ooh, I found it hard to find someone like you”

Your body gently sways along to the slow, sultry beat, and when you flip your head back to glance at him, he lets a low groan out. Placing your hands on the floor, you walk them out ahead of you before you’re on all fours, spreading your legs wide to show him even more of your glistening pussy.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask, settling on your stomach, snaking a hand between your wide spread legs.

“Y-yes,” he huffs.

“I know you do Bravo,” you tilt your hips up hovering them above the ground, “let me show you how I like it.”

Your middle finger enters your soaked entrance as your thumb gently dusts light circles against your clit. Your hips move in beat to the heavy rhythm of the song.

“Oh god,” he pants, when you stick another finger in, the chair creaking underneath his tensity.

RING. The ten minute bell rings.

Choreography, that’s the business term for what you’re doing. It’s all timed out, you hear these songs at least ten times every work day. Though you never sit on your clients as close as you did with Bravo, you never taste their skin like you did with Bravo. He deserves more than the same memorized steps, something better than the repetition you offer all of the others.

The song changes, signaling you to start your new routine, you ignore the cue, rolling onto your back, arching slightly, your eyes meet his. His hands remain clamped on to the armrests, fingers digging into the velvet. He’s trembling with restraint, beads of sweat glistening on his skin. His erection swells, the tight fabric of his pants tenting.

“Do you wanna touch me Bravo?”

“I do,” he whines, the lines of his neck straining as his head thuds against the back of the chair.

“Okay, okay baby,” you sit up, turning to crawl towards him. Your eyes don’t leave his.

“And I can be all the things you told me not to be

When you try to come for me, I keep on flourishing”

Kneeling on your knees in front of him, you unlock one of his clutched hands, moving it to the soft skin of your breast.

“N-no touching I thought,” he stammers, his hand laying flat against your skin.

“I make my own rules, it’s okay Bravo,” you allow, grabbing his other hand and placing it on you.

He groans when he cups your breasts in his hands. You watch the tendons of his strong hand tense and release as he cups your breasts and massages them in his hold. He’s mesmerized by his movements, like he can’t believe you’re allowing him to touch you.

Your hand teases its way up his leg to the warmth of the apex of his thighs before gripping him, thick and hard underneath the constraints of his jeans.

“Oh fuck,” he growls. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re so beautiful.”

His words of adoration fall out of his mouth, eyes still locked on your tits covered by his hands.

You unbuckle his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as the choir sings God is a woman.

The song changes.

“You got, you got the cinema”

Your eyes light at the sight of his cock, standing tall and thick, precum leaking from the engorged tip. It’s just as beautiful and wide as the rest of your client.

Bravo lets out a garbled groan when you wrap your hand around his length, slowly pumping him along to the song. Up, down, up, down, the sexy beat soundtracking your movements.

RING. RING. The five minute bell rings. Your client doesn’t seem to heed the warning, only focusing on his thumbs swiping back and forth against the peaks of your nipples and your hand stroking the smooth silk of his cock.

“Touch me Bravo,” you rise, lifting a foot up on the armrest, keeping hold of his pulsing dick in your hand. “Give me two of your fingers.”

His eyes gaze down to your dripping cunt, watching himself as his hand sweeps down your body before parting your folds.

You got, you got the cinema

Your hips undulate to the tempo of the song as he sticks two of his long, thick fingers into your heat.

“God damn,” he mutters incredulously, “you’re so wet.”

The song changes.

A steady and slow funky guitar plays along with a soulful choir. It’s soft and romantic, exactly what you like to close down your shows with. You’ve never ended a show like this, your hand wrapped around your client’s wide cock, and your pussy clenching around two of his thick fingers. His thumb begins sweeping back and forth against your clit, he may have found himself at a brothel in Amsterdam, but your client has done this before. Perfect movements, perfect angle, you stare down in reverie at the focus he holds, watching himself touch you. His adoration of your body heats your core, lighting an orgasm just as beautiful as the song that plays.

“Fuck baby,” you pant, “I’m gonna cum.”

He blinks up to you, brown eyes staring intensely into yours when you bite your lip and send a gush of wet against his fingers. Your legs turn shaky, as your clit pulses against his thumb that blesses your sensitive bub with just the right amount of pressure. Moving his hand from between your thighs, he holds it up, marveling at the sight of your juices shining against his skin. You send him a smile as your leg drops to the floor, the rest of your body following, kneeling in front of him. He still stares at his hand, watching the strings of your orgasm stretch across his widely spread fingers.

“Smear it on your cock for me,” you say, planting both hands on his thighs.

He groans and nods before rubbing the remnants of your orgasm on his shaft. He shouts an indistinguishable sound when you lick a line up to his tip, tasting yourself and the salty tang of his precum. Your lips envelop the fat tip of him, sucking and slobbering your way down the thick length of him.

The song ends, the playlist repeats. The same quick drumbeat of the first song plays loudly.

You suck him to the beat, flicking your tongue against his tip with each “YEAH!” of the song.

RING. RING. RING. The final bells ring, signaling that your client should have left by now.

Bravo locks up. Your mouth unclasps from his cock.

“It’s okay,” you assure, “we have a word for–”

A heavy knock lands against the door.

“Driehoek (triangle) Pieter! I’m good in here, thanks!”

Three rapid knocks–softer now–signal Pieter’s departure.

“You guys really have it all fig–oh god,” he moans, when you take his cock back into your mouth.

His strong legs shake against your body as your cheeks hollow, taking him into your mouth faster and harder, his hips thrusting up to meet your mouth. Drool leaks out of the sides of your mouth, your eyes stare up at him blinking back tears as he reaches the back of your throat. You don’t know if he’s ever allowed himself this much freedom, it feels like you’ve unlocked something deep within him with the way he’s snarling and grunting “Irises” over and over.

“G-gonna–yeah–yeah–cum,” he gasps, hips stuttering and chair creaking as he spills into your accepting mouth.

Bravo, client. Bravo.

—

He can’t believe he just did that. He just–he–he just– came in the mouth of a complete stranger–nay–a prostitute. You told him you’ve never done something like that with a client as you tossed him a towel… and the funny thing is he actually believes you.

You shuffle back into the see through lilac dress as he zips his jeans back up. You really are the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, even if your purple eyeliner is now streaked from the tears that sprung in your eyes from gagging on his cock. Wow, that did just happen.

You leave a kiss against his cheek and open the door for him. Pieter escorts him out the back entrance with a knowing smile.

He walks back to his hotel, a new man with a clearer mind. Marcus really doesn’t feel the shame he expected he would. He knows a fine piece of art, and you just might be the finest he’s ever seen.

#marcus pike #pedro pascal #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fan fic #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #fucktober #birthdaybaroness #pedro pascal fanfic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month ago

Text

The House Guest 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The drive into town, or the few shops that cluster together at the midpoint of the backroads, is quiet. As you lazily steer around the long bends. As you come in sight of the beer store banner, you squint into the rear view. Bucky’s been so silent, you’re half certain he’s asleep.

He sits with his arms crossed as he stares out the window. His eyes could be closed. As you roll into the gravel lot, he clears his throat.

“Not much to this place,” he comments.

You give a start and shift into park, “nope.”

He nods as he unbuckles his seat belt and sits up, “quiet.”

“Very,” you agree.

He makes no other comment as he gets out. You really can’t tell how he meant it. Does he like the quiet? Hate it? Does he long for the New York rush?

You push yourself out of the car and head for the front door. He steps ahead to get the door and you thank him. It’s not too unusual. A lot of the men in their plaid fleeces insist on doing the same. You enter and greet Dustin behind the counter.

“Foster sending you ‘round again?” He asks.

“Mr. Foster’s drying out. At least his wife says so. And I told her I wouldn’t bring him anymore gin.” You explain.

“Ah, you got company,” Dustin comes to the end of the counter, “Dustin, and you?”

He holds out his hand. Bucky shakes it with his gloved one and introduces himself.

“Ha, boy, fingers’ cold already? Must not be from around here.”

Bucky sniffs and drops his hand. He has both covered. It’s probably best he not draw attention.

“Yeah, came up from the States,” he says. “Not a fan of the Canadian beer though.”

“Ah, you like piss water. Well, head to the back, you’ll find that yankie river water.”

You chuckle and shake your head. You go down the middle aisle and Bucky catches up to you with a grumble. You notice his glower as he peruses the cases.

“Don’t take it to hear. That’s just Dusty. If you’re a hockey fan, don’t mention it unless you wanna hear about the Leafs for an hour.”

“Right,” he nods and grabs a green case. “More of a baseball fan.”

“Don’t mention that either. He’s a Jays fan.” You head down the far aisle and peruse the smaller bottles. That should be enough.

“Thought you don’t drink,” he comments as you pick out the brown bottle.

“Rumcake. I’m gonna check in on the neighbours later this week. Make sure they’re okay. Plus, you add a bit to some fried bananas. It’s great.” You explain.

He drones again and clicks his tongue. He probably doesn’t care much about the neighbours or your mother’s rumcake recipe. You go to the counter and put the bottle down. As you reach into your pocket, Bucky leans the case on the edge.

“Charge hers with mine,” he takes out his wallet and slips out some bills.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Least I can do,” he insists and hands over the money, “Sir, you keep the change.”

“Boy, this is a beer store, we don’t take tips,” Dustin scoffs.

“Then put it in that charity box,” Bucky shrugs and hauls up the case. “Got somewhere else to go?”

You take the bottle and say goodbye to Dustin before you follow.

“Groceries,” you say as you follow him out.

You fish around for your keys. What pocket did you put them in? You stop beside the driver’s side and search for them. Of course, you locked the car.

Frustrated, you set the bottle on the car roof. You look down as you continue to pat your jacket. You finally find them and then you hear it. The subtle friction of the bottle slips down the curve of the roof.

You panic and try to catch it. As you do, you press against the wall that appears behind you. Bucky reaches over your shoulder as he saves the bottle. You get your keys free and teeter between him and the car. He backs up.

“Got it,” he says.

“Uh, thanks,” you hid your discomfort. You weren’t expecting him to be so close.

He easily carries the case under one arm and takes the rum with him around the passengers side. You unlock the doors and he opens the back to put the alcohol in front of the seat. You swing into the driver’s and get yourself situated.

You’re overthinking. He probably didn’t even realise how awkward that was. You put your keys in the ignition as he drops in through the opposite door.

“Real friendly around here,” he remarks as check the rear view.

You reach over to grip the passenger seat as you crane to see behind you. By accident, you grab his shoulder. He grunts and you release him quickly, grabbing the seat instead.

“Sorry,” you say.

“It’s fine,” he shrugs and you slowly reverse, hooking around to put your car straight.

You rescind your hand and turn forward, steering out of the lot and down to the next street. There, the grocery store is a bit more lively with the early risers. You draw up and park again. You get out and he follows suit.

He grabs a cart before you can. You’re not sure if he’s being overly helpful or what. You walk beside him toward the front doors. As you do, Cathy comes out with a paper bag in her arms. Before you can hide, she shrilly calls your name. Great.

“Oh, haven’t seen you lately,” she smiles beneath her fuschia lipstick. “Oh my,” her heavily lined eyes flick to Bucky, “and who is this? Don’t see a lot of new faces in Caribou.”

You glance over at your escort as he stops the cart.

“This is Bucky. He’s visiting Canada.” You say.

“Visiting? Oh, how wonderful,” she walks up the side of the cart, squinting at him. She never wears her glasses. “Ah, look at him. Strapping.” She grabs his square jaw.

“Um, Bucky, this is Cathy.”

“Look at those eyes,” she squeezes him so her acrylics sink into his cheeks. He looks stunned by her latch on him. She is one of a kind, especially around there.

“Uh, nice to meet you,” he speaks stiffly as she stands on her toes to inspect him.

“About time you found yourself a handsome young man,” she lets go and he brings his hand to his cheek.

“Cath, it’s not like that,” you chuckle. “It’s nice seeing you but we gotta grab some stuff.”

“Oh, don’t let me stop you. Oh, the pharmacy got some of those new ones. You know... the ones with the ribbing,” she winks.

You take a moment to catch her meaning. Your lips part but you don’t have much of a response. Bucky shifts beside you.

“Gotta be safe,” she smirks, “anywho, if I was you, I’d be in a hurry too.”

You set your chin and grab the side of the cart. You pull it along and Bucky goes with it. The silence is stifling.

“She was nice,” Bucky says as you enter the store.

“She’s... Cathy. Don’t mind her,” you say as you stop at the shelf of pears.

“Been a while since anyone called me young,” he snorts as he lingers with the cart.

“Well, around here, you might just meet a few of your peers. Or close to,” you mutter, paying overly much attention to the pear. You’re too embarrassed to look anywhere else. As usual, Cathy has to make her little comments. “You mind grabbing some maple syrup? I uh... I’m almost out?”

He doesn’t respond right away. He wheels the cart up in front of you and backs up, “think I can manage that.”

As he turns, you almost feel bad. You don’t want to treat him like an errand boy. You just need some space. You’re still getting used to someone else being around. All the time.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #the house guest #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

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donutz · 9 months ago

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Dogday x gn reader angst

Request from Tumblr—! Here you go Dawko-fanpage☆

—☆You are a human in this

Searching around, you always find something interesting.

Like the dead bodies of toys, or blood splatters, a pool? That's something you didn't expect in this place.

One thing you figured out yourself about this place is that it's huge. It's like the square miles of this place is more than Mount Everest!

And even in this hell hole, you still made some friends. Some as in Poppy, Kissy Missy, and a smaller version of Dogday. It jumped on you when you weren't aware, but it didn't try to eat or kill you. It rubbed its head against yours, maybe these tiny critters can actually be cute.

Other than the fact they eat humans and toys.

And have jumped a singular man as a group.

Let's just hope this small Dogday stays innocent.

You were in a somewhat safe spot. These colorful and soft walls kind of distract you from the real world.

You wanted to rest, just for a while.

But something's telling you to go ahead. And the fact there's a murderous purple cat on the loose, hunting you down.

To have you not thinking about it, you pet the small puppy.

Cutely, it stuck its tongue out and started wagging its tail. Even the slightest bit of happiness can comfort you here.

You closed your eyes, resting, thinking about what to do next. When a small head lightly bumped against your stomach, bringing you back to the real world.

“Why'da bump me hm?” The tiny jumped off your lap and went somewhere.

“Oh, wait I don't wanna lose you!” You whisper yelled. You kept your eyes on it, following where it’s going.

You stumble upon an eerie hallway, being suspicious, you scruffed the small Dogday just in case. It tried to get out of your grasp, squirming, “I know you want to just go everywhere, but c’mon at least have some security for yourself.” You said to the tiny critter.

“You! You’re Poppy’s angel!” The rough voice scared you, making you flinch. When you saw the source of the voice, your eyes went wide.

“Come to save us.” The small one stopped squirming and was also looking at the much bigger Dogday. Maybe that’s why it was running over here, to tell you about the suffering life form you never knew about.

“Nothing left to save, not here.” He looked up at you, noticing you had the smaller critters, aka the ones who were eating him bit by little bit.

“...”

He shook his head and resumed his talking, “You’re in Catnap’s home, angel.” But he saw that you were distracted. With talking to the smaller version of him.

“Eat those belts and I’ll give you scratches for the longest time.” You whispered. The smaller Dogday understood and jumped onto Dogday’s arms, he flinched, scared he’ll get hurt again.

“Uhh, continue with what you’re saying, the smaller you is gonna eat away at the belts, don’t worry he’s tamed.”

“... If you say so Angel, You’re in their home. A million pairs of—” Dogday’s left arm was released.

‘Wow he sure is efficient..’ Dogday thought.

“eyes are on you now… Watching, waiting, hungr—” You caught Dogday before he could fully fall on the ground.

“See? Tamed!” You said with a smile as the small Dogday crawled up your arm. “Now, let’s go before all of us get eaten!”

Tiny Dogday crawled into your pocket as the bigger Dogday shifted to your back.

Even with the bigger Dogday being huge, you still managed through. I guess you being here gives you big muscles.

You finally made it outside. And could rest while at it.

“Bigger Dogday, I’m gonna patch you up. I don’t know how to reattach your legs back, but I’ll try to not have your organs nearly fall out.” You stated, assuring that Dogday won’t be in as much pain he’s currently in.

“You don’t need to angel—”

“But I’m gonnaaaa. So stop being so selfless.” You could hear small giggles coming from your pocket.

“What, you think this is funny to you? Huh ya little vermin?” The tiny was still giggling, even louder than before.

You let out a sigh and continued on, Dogday smiled(an actual one) a little from his smaller version.

You found medical supplies and went to work on patching up Dogday, trying to be as careful as you can. He’s been through enough before you even got here.

The tinier Dogday watched your process, jumping from your pocket and rubbing its head against Dogday’s much larger hand. He flinched a bit, but pet his smaller version.

After 15-30 minutes, you were done. “Alright, I’m done!”

“Angel, this is amazing I—!”

You heard the familiar sound of metal scratching against a floor. Oh come on, you can’t get a little bit of rest?! It was the Prototype, you thought he only comes near you if you killed somebody! And Dogday nor his smaller version is dead.

So, why is he here?

Well, you either defend yourself with your life, or sacrifice it or something. Though the hand most likely knew some moves, you still need to defend the two puppies that are behind you.

You’ve done the impossible so you can do this right?

Wrong! (＾▽＾)

The Prototype’s sharp and metallic fingers were plunged into your heart.

“ANGEL NO!” (I don’t know how to make this seem serious, I’m just here💀)

His hands were removed from your heart, though he didn’t take your body to build himself(that’s what I headcanon) maybe you weren’t worthy enough.

Prototype was looking for Dogday, but fortunately, he was nowhere to be seen, neither was his smaller version.

He needed to search, to find him, but— he doesn’t feel like it right now. So he left. Leaving you to die, maybe.

Who knows?

You can always do the impossible.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #smiling critters #catnap #dogday #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #gn reader #dogday x reader #prototype #smaller critters #small dogday #kissy missy #poppy

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babymetaldoll · 16 days ago

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First day (Spencer Reid x fem!reader)

Part of the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge @aperrywilliams and I are hosting during October.

Event Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Summary: Spencer is having a lot of problems dealing with his daughter's first day of school.

Word count: 1.720

Warnings: Just pure fluff

A/N: Hey! this was so sweet to write, I hope you enjoy it.

- “I’m not ready.” - I whisper as I look at my little five-year-old daughter preparing for her first official school day. She is putting all the snacks my wife got ready for her into her lunchbox, and we both stare at her in adoration from the other side of the kitchen counter.

Little Rose is ecstatic. She has been talking about this all week. We visited her classroom and met her teacher already, and since then, all she wants is to come back to school, learn, and make friends.

- “I’m never gonna be ready.” - I add and my wife turns to me with a small smile as my eyes keep fixed on our baby girl. Of course, I know this is hard for her as well. Our girl is growing up too fast, life is passing us so quickly.

- “It’s just her first day of school, not her first date. Though that might happen soon now that she will be meeting boys.”

- “Are you trying to calm me down?”- I turn to her, frowning, and she just laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist.

- “Absolutely not, but I love how you are freaking out so much.”

- “Ready! Mommy! Daddy!”- Rosie yells and grabs her backpack. - “Let’s go to school!”

- “Ok lovebug, we are coming.”- (Y/N) walks to her and makes sure all her things are packed correctly. Then, she helps our daughter put on her little jacket and shoes as I shake myself from my intrusive thoughts and follow their moves.

My wife takes a few pictures of our daughter at our front porch holding a letter board that reads “Rosie’s first day of school” and somehow that makes it all even more real, and painful. It’s happening. My little girl is going to school.

It’s a short ride from our house to Rosie’s primary school. In less than ten minutes, I’m parking the car outside, feeling the knot in my throat getting tighter as the time to let my baby girl alone is inevitable.

- “Ready to learn, lovebug?”- (Y/N) takes our daughter from her chair and grabs her backpack. Rosie jumps, clearly excited, and I try to smile though I’m in fact, fighting the tears.

- “Yes! I wanna learn!”

- “Dad and I will be waiting for you right here at four, ok?”- my wife assures her. Of course, we asked for the entire week off work, to join Rose on her first day and to be there for her in case of any adaptation issues during the first few days.

- “Come here, lovebug.”- I kneel in front of her and wrap my arms around her, feeling her tiny hands on my neck.- “Do you want us to walk you to your classroom?”

- “Yes, Daddy! please!”

Finally, the answer I actually wanted to hear. But before we walk into the main hall, Miss Daisy welcomes us with a big smile and looks at our daughter.

- “Hello there, little one! ready for your first day?”

- “Yes!”

I thought Rose would be nervous, I don’t know why, maybe ‘cos I wanted to believe she was going to be as terrified as I was of the unknown at her age. It’s so shocking to see she has grown so differently. So strong and independent. I know it’s a sign (Y/N) and I have done a good job as her parents. But still, it hurts to know she doesn’t depend on us as much as she did a few years ago. And it will only get worse from this day on.

She is still just five years old, I know I’m getting ahead with these thoughts, but I can’t stop them. The only thing that takes me from my mind is Rosie’s hand, leaving mine.

- “Bye, Daddy!”- and she waves as she takes a few steps closer to Miss Daisy.

- “Parents are allowed only to this point.”- my wife explains, probably noticing I was absolutely lost in my own head. I kneel again and open my arms.

- “One more hug for daddy!”- I request my daughter, and she replies running to me, giggling. The sound of those giggles can fix anything wrong in my life, I swear.

- “I love you so much, lovebug. Be good today.”- I whisper and kiss her cheeks a few times.

- “Yes, Daddy.”

(Y/N) wraps her arms around our daughter, kissing her and wishing her a good day. She also takes a few more pictures as Rose walks the hall with the teacher and a few more kids. She is already talking with another little girl. I would have never done that. My daughter is already stronger and better than me. That makes me feel proud.

Nevertheless, that doesn’t stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. I have to bite my lips not to burst out crying in that school lobby. My wife wipes her own tears as I wrap an arm around her, the two of us still staring at our little girl, walking away from us, not looking back once the entire time.

- “I wasn’t ready.”- I whisper and sigh. (Y/N) rests her head against my arm in silence for a few seconds.

- “I knew it was going to be painful.”- she finally whispers.- “And I know it’s normal, but still, it’s such a big reality check to watch her walking away from us.”

We both sigh and stare until our daughter is out of sight. I hold her hand as we start walking back to the car and somehow, I feel a little empty now that Rose isn’t here.

- “Wanna grab coffee?”- my wife asks as we get into the car.- “Technically, we have the entire day for us.”

- “Coffee sounds great, honey.”

I drive us to our favorite place, and as we sit to wait for the waitress, I speak my mind.

- “Do you think she is ok?”

- “Yes. You know if there was anything wrong they would call us.”

- “I know… but, what if she is struggling to tell the teacher she isn’t feeling good?”

- “When has Rose Diana Reid not spoken her mind?”- (Y/N) asks and smiles.- “That little girl has a very strong voice, and you know it. She convinced you to eat more greens for your health.”

I chuckle and just nod. The waitress finally arrives and gets our order and once we are alone again, (Y/N) holds my hand upon the table and asks.

- “Why are you so worried?”

I pause and look at her, knowing she is fully aware of my high school experience and how painful it had been. So I guess, though it’s obvious, I should just get it off my chest.

- “What if… what if someone is mean to her?”- (Y/N) squeezes my hand and smiles at me sweetly.

- “If that ever happens, and I’m sure it will not, she knows what to do. Starts with “kick” and ends with “asses”, just like we taught her.”

I chuckle at those words. She is right about it, we have taught our little kid to be strong and stand her ground. But yet, I can’t help but be worried. She is my baby.

- “I know, but I just don’t want her to go through any of the things I did when I was in school.”

- “Stop projecting.”- my wife says and holds my hand.

- “I am not.”

- “Yes, you are. You just have to trust we’ve given her all the tools she needs to stand up for herself. She is not a baby anymore, she is a girl. A very smart, sweet, and strong girl.”

- “Just like her mother.”- I whisper and my wife just smiles.

- “You are smart, sweet, and strong as well, Spencer.”

I just smile and stare at her.

- “I love you so much.”- the words come out as a whisper, probably ‘cause I feel so emotional at the moment I think I might start crying. It’s not my best moment. By far.

- “I love you too, Spencer.”- (Y/N) smiles at me and scoots closer to kiss my cheek.- “I think I have something that might cheer you up.”

- “What?”

My wife just stares at me in silence, smiling for a few seconds, before she starts talking again.

- “I think the reason why you are so sad about Rose going to school is because she is growing up too fast and she is not your baby anymore.”

- “There is no need to shove it on my face.”- I reply and pretend to be in pain. (Y/N) opens her bag and takes an envelope.

- “So this might make you feel better.”

- “What is it? Is everything ok?”- I ask her as I start reading.

- “Everything is perfect”

- “Your HCG levels are so high”- I mumble as I read the results. She just smiles and nods. I read the exam in a second, but the information doesn’t seem to make sense.

- “But… does.. is it?”- I look at her in shock and she just smiles.

- “I’m six weeks pregnant, Spencer. So get ready for baby Reid number two.”

I wide open my eyes as I hear her say those words. My heart is rising inside my chest and I hold her close to my body, not believing what is happening.

- “Are you sure?”

- “Very sure, honey.”

- “My god, I love you so much!”- I say and kiss her lips as soon as I can. She giggles and kisses me, but the waitress appears that moment with all our food and we have to move apart for a moment at least.

- “When did you first know?”

- “I was late and had scheduled an appointment with my doctor already, so I thought, what the hell, let’s make a test. And when it came positive I knew I had to wait for a special moment to tell you.”

- “So you waited until I was having a serious meltdown during our daughter’s first day at school?”- and she just smiles and nods. - “I love you so much.”

- “I love you more.”

- “I seriously doubt it.”

#babymetaldoll writes #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #dad!spencer reid #I love spencer reid so much #I just wanna make him happy

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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The "religious liberty" angle for overturning the overturning of Dobbs

Frank Wilhoit’s definition of “conservativism” remains a classic:

There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.

https://crookedtimber.org/2018/03/21/liberals-against-progressives/#comment-729288

Conservativism is, in other words, the opposite of the rule of law, which is the idea that the law applies equally to all. Many of America’s most predictably weird moments live in the tension between the rule of law and the conservative’s demand to be protected — but not bound — by the law.

Think of the Republican women of Florida whose full-throated support for the perfomatively cruel and bigoted policies of Ron Desantis turned to howls of outrage when the governor signed a law “overhauling alimony” (for “overhauling,” read “eliminating”):

https://www.orlandoweekly.com/news/this-is-a-death-sentence-for-me-florida-republican-women-say-they-will-switch-parties-after-desantis-approves-alimony-law-34563230

This is real leopards-eating-people’s-faces-party stuff, and it’s the only source of mirth in an otherwise grim situation.

But out of the culture-war bullshit backfires, none is so sweet and delicious as the religious liberty self-own. You see, under the rule of law, if some special consideration is owed to a group due to religious liberty, that means all religions. Of course, Wilhoit-drunk conservatives imagine that “religious liberty” is a synonym for Christian liberty, and that other groups will never demand the same carve outs.

Remember when Louisiana decided spend tax dollars to fund “religious” schools under a charter school program, only to discover — to their Islamaphobic horror — that this would allow Muslim schools to get public subsidies, too?

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/louisiana_n_1593995

(They could have tried the Quebec gambit, where hijabs and yarmulkes are classed as “religious” and therefore banned for public servants and publicly owned premises, while crosses are treated as “cultural” and therefore exempted — that’s some primo Wilhoitism right there)

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/montreal/quebec-francois-legault-crucifix-religious-symbols-1.4858757

The Satanic Temple has perfected the art of hoisting religious liberty on its own petard. Are you a state lawmaker hoping to put a giant Ten Commandments on the statehouse lawn? Go ahead, have some religious liberty — just don’t be surprised when the Satanic Temple shows up to put a giant statue of Baphomet next to it:

https://www.npr.org/2018/08/17/639726472/satanic-temple-protests-ten-commandments-monument-with-goat-headed-statue

Wanna put a Christmas tree in the state capitol building? Sure, but there’s gonna be a Satanic winter festival display right next to it:

https://katv.com/news/offbeat/satanic-temple-display-installed-at-illinois-capitol-next-to-nativity-scene-menorah-decorations-snake-serpent-satanic-temple-springfield-christmas-tree

And now we come to Dobbs, and the cowardly, illegitimate Supreme Court’s cowardly, illegitimate overturning of Roe v Wade, a move that was immediately followed by “red” states implementing total, or near-total bans on abortion:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/15/paid-medical-disinformation/#crisis-pregnancy-centers

These same states are hotbeds of “religious liberty” nonsense. In about a dozen of these states, Jews, Christians, and Satanists are filing “religious liberty” challenges to the abortion ban. In Indiana, the Hoosier Jews For Choice have joined with other religious groups in a class action, to argue that the “religious freedom” law that Mike Pence signed as governor protects their right to an abortion:

https://www.politico.com/news/2023/06/21/legal-strategy-that-could-topple-abortion-bans-00102468

Their case builds on precedents from the covid lockdowns, like decisions that said that if secular exceptions to lockdown rules or vaccine mandates existed, then states had to also allow religious exemptions. That opens the door for religious exemptions to abortion bans — if there’s a secular rule that permits abortion in the instance of incest or rape, then faith-based exceptions must be permitted, too.

Some of the challenges to abortion rules seek to carve out religious exemptions, but others seek to overturn the abortion rules altogether, because the lawmakers who passed them explicitly justified them in the name of fusing Christian “values” with secular law, a First Amendment no-no.

As Rabbi James Bennett told Politico’s Alice Ollstein: “They’re entitled to their interpretation of when life begins, but they’re not entitled to have the exclusive one.”

In Florida, a group of Jewish, Buddhist, Episcopalian, Universalists and United Church clerics are challenging the “aiding and abetting” law because it restricts the things they can say from the pulpit — a classic religious liberty gambit.

Kentucky’s challenge comes from three Jewish women whose faith holds that life begins “with the first breath.” Lead plaintiff Lisa Sobel described how Kentucky’s law bars her from seeking IVF treatment, because she could face criminal charges for “discarding non-viable embryos” created during the process.

Then there’s the Satanic Temple, in court in Texas, Idaho and Indiana. The Satanists say that abortion is a religious ritual, and argue that the state can’t limit their access to it.

These challenges all rest on state religious liberty laws. What will happen when some or all of these reach the Supreme Court? It’s a risky gambit. This is the court that upheld Trump’s Muslim ban and the right of a Christian baker to refuse to bake a wedding cake for a same-sex couple. It’s a court that loves Wilhoit’s “in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.”

It’s a court that’s so Wilhoit-drunk, it’s willing to grant religious liberty to bigots who worry about imaginary same-sex couples:

https://newrepublic.com/article/173987/mysterious-case-fake-gay-marriage-website-real-straight-man-supreme-court

But in the meantime, the bigots and religious maniacs who want to preserve “religious liberty” while banning abortion are walking a fine line. The Becket Fund, which funded the Hobby Lobby case (establishing that religious maniacs can deny health care to their employees if their imaginary friends object), has filed a brief in one case arguing that the religious convictions of people arguing for a right to abortion aren’t really sincere in their beliefs:

https://becketnewsite.s3.amazonaws.com/20230118184008/Individual-Members-v.-Anonymous-Planitiff-Amicus-Brief.pdf

This is quite a line for Becket to have crossed — religious liberty trufans hate it when courts demand that people seeking religious exemptions prove that their beliefs are sincerely held.

Not only is Becket throwing its opposition to “sincerely held belief” tests under the bus, they’re doing so for nothing. Jewish religious texts clearly state that life begins at the first breath, and that the life of a pregnant person takes precedence over the life of the fetus in their uterus.

The kicker in Ollstein’s great article comes in the last paragraph, delivered by Columbia Law’s Elizabeth Reiner Platt, who runs the Law, Rights, and Religion Project:

The idea of reproductive rights as a religious liberty issue is absolutely not something that came from lawyers. It’s how faith communities themselves have been talking about their approach to reproductive rights for literally decades.

The Clarion Science Fiction Writers’ Workshop (I’m a grad, instructor and board member) is having its fundraiser auction to help defray tuition. I’ve donated a “Tuckerization” — the right to name a character in a future novel:

https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/clarion-sf-fantasy-writers-workshop-23-campaign/#/

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/11/wilhoitism/#hoosier-jews

[Image ID: Moses parting the Red Sea. On the seabed is revealed a Planned Parenthood clinic.]

Image: Nina Paley (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Moses-Splits-Sea_by_Nina_Paley.jpg

CC0 1.0 https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/deed.en

—

Kristina D.C. Hoeppner (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/4nitsirk/40406966752/

CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

#pluralistic #religion #frank wilhoit #petard #gender #religious freedom #1a #abortion bans #dobbs #roe

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hunterofartemis7 · 11 months ago

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(This is based of a vidoe I saw years ago and thought was funny?

Raven: someone wanna tell me why my BF and his brother are handcuffed to each other?

Dick: oh hey Rae. So Damian and Tim wouldn’t stop fighting so as punishment, we handcuffed them together

Raven: can’t they easily get out of them?

Jason: normal handcuffs, yes. Specifically designed handcuffs that wound come off till they say 5 nice things about each other, no

Raven: they have to say 5 nice things about each other?

Jason: yep

Raven:……..you know those handcuffs will never come off right?

Dick: hey one of them will give up eventually and the other will follow

Raven; and how long have they been handcuffed?

Bruce: two days..🙄

Raven:….can I please intervene?

Jason: define intervene?

Raven: get them to start saying nice things

Barbra: if you think you can go ahead.

Raven: *walks up to Dami*

Damian: *trying to read while Tim tries to do anything else*

Raven: Dami~

Damian: *looks up* yes beloved?

Raven: I want cuddles🥺

Tim: *looks up from the floor* good luck. Gonna be hard with us handcuffed like this.

Damian: *smacks him* shut up Drake

Raven: please🥺 we haven’t cuddled in days

Damian: I know Beloved and I’m sorry for that. If Grayson hadn’t put these stupid cuffs on us we would be cuddling

Raven: can’t you do something to get them off?🥺

Damian:…*sighs* fine I give in!

Dick: *whispers* oh she’s good

Tim: say what now?

Damian: I give in. Drake…you..are a pretty decent detective

Tim: ..ok we’re doing this ummm…You’re a really good cook

Jason; oh please tell me your recording this?!

Dick: obviously

Damian: your fighting technique is adequate compared to Todd’s

Jason: was that a compliment?

Barbra: I’ll count it

Tim: your art is the best I’ve ever seen

Damian: *mind* this is so stupid. *out-loud* it is.. impressive how hard you work on some cases

Tim: you..make really good garlic bread

Dick: TRY HARDER!

Tim: fine fine! I enjoy your company while on patrol.

Damian: your taste in reading material is better than I thought it was

Tim: your a really good BF to raven

Jason: is it me or is Tim trying harder than Damian?

Bruce: no, he is

Damian; you, somehow, make Connor very happy and I’m thankful for that. He deserves it

Tim: your actually a really good brother

*cuffs fall off*

Jason: about time!

Damian: Tt. *picks up Raven and Carries her to their room for cuddles*

Dick : okay new rule, anytime we have a problem with Damian we call raven

Jason: agreed

#damian x raven #damirae #raven dc #raven roth #raven teen titans #damian wayne #jason todd #robin damian #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #barbara gordon

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gildedphoenix · 6 months ago

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Fire Escape - Dead on MAYn Day 1

Prompts uses: -Courting rituals -Flickering -Dinner interrupted by a fight -“Are they gone yet”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Not beta read. 6k words. Jason has a stressful day and shares dinner with his downstairs neighbor, Danny. The following week, Danny leaves something for him. A courting ritual between busy, stressed disasters.

AO3: Fire Escape Dead on MAYn Blog @deadonmayn

Fire Escape

Life as a vigilante was stressful. Their world was not always easy. Cases did not always wrap up nicely in thirty minutes with everyone skipping off, hand in hand.

This was definitely one of those bad days.

A child trafficking case, after dragging on for the last 3 months, ended horribly. The head of the ring got away before Hood and Nightwing could to box him in. Most of the kids were already gone, whisked away to another location while Jason and Dick were fighting to reach them. And the kids they were able to find? Jason took a deep breath. This wasn’t a night he would be able to forget anytime soon.

He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight so after Dick left, Jason cooked. He made chicken and bacon stuffed shells with a creamy marinara sauce. The recipe always took forever but it was a welcome distraction. Jumbo shells, chicken, bacon, broccoli, cheese, and sauce and a dozen other components to prep and cook. No time to think of anything else.

Two hours later, Jason was still wired, but he had stuffed shells. Enough for his whole family, if he was honest with himself. Enough to feed those kids who didn’t make it. Enough to fill the stomachs that hadn’t been full in so long but would never be hungry again.

Jason was broken out of his despair by a noise on the fire escape. His gun was in his hand without conscious thought. Slow, steady steps took him closer to the window until he could see the potential intruder.

Jason's shoulders dropped back down as he spotted his downstairs neighbor outside their window. It wasn’t unusual to see Danny out on the fire escape, one level down. Nothing unusual. Nothing to be concerned about.

Jason reupholstered his gun before Danny spotted him and turned back to the kitchen. They’d introduced themselves when Danny moved in a few weeks ago at the beginning of the fall semester but hadn’t interacted much since then.

Grabbing the casserole dish and an extra plate and fork, Jason stepped out onto his level of the scaffolding and called down to Danny.

“Hey, you want some food? I made too much and can’t possibly eat it all.” Jason set the dish down between himself and the stairs and started in on his own plate.

“Oh my god, Yes! I haven’t had food all day! You are a life saver. A knight in shiny armor.” Danny made his way up the stairs and peeked his head just above Jason’s level. He reached slowly for the extra plate and serving spoon while watching Jason. Jason motioned a little ‘go ahead’ with his own fork and Danny’s face lit up as he scooped a modest portion of shells onto his plate. “I was stuck in meetings all day. The council just wanted to drag everything out and every issue solved spawned two more. And it’s not even like they listen to me,” he stopped, eyes wide and he put the serving spoon back in the dish and looked intently at his own plate. “Not that they would. You know. I’m just a,you know, just an intern. I’m not even paid. Just an unpaid internship. Yep. I’m just there to take notes and get college credit. I’m an engineering student at Gotham U.” He glanced over at Jason, eyes a little panicked as he tried to sell his obvious lie. “But I don’t wanna bore you. You probably have a real job with real stress. I’m just an intern student. Aaaaaaand I’m gunna stop rambling now and go eat. Yep. Thank you.”

Danny clammered back down the stairs (and Jason could swear he missed that last step based on the noises) before settling down against the wall next to his window. With a chuckle, Jason took another bite of his food. “You’re right, my job is stressful. That doesn’t mean you’re day can’t be stressful too, though. Stress is relative. We all handle it differently. It’s how I ended up making too much food. I’ve got a big family and I just went on autopilot and before I knew it I’d made enough to feed them all, even though none of them are over tonight. It’s still a nice way to decompress. I’ll give them a call tomorrow to see if any of them want some but this dish is better fresh.” He leaned back against his own wall, eyes closed, taking in the steady constant noises of the city. The chatter of Crime Alley and the more distant rumble of Gotham. It was several minutes before Jason heard Danny call up again.

“This is amazing. I don't think I’ve eaten anything this good since….Actually never. I definitely can’t make anything like this and my parents didn’t really do home cooked meals.”

Jason glanced down through the grates and Danny was scraping the sauce off the plate onto his fork. Jason decided to show some mercy before the poor guy started licking the plate. “Feel free to grab more. I’m not gonna eat this all and my siblings should have clairvoyantly known I was cooking if they really wanted any.” Jason chuckled a bit but it also didn’t seem that unrealistic.

“Thanks! I’m going to be full for a week after this.” Danny popped back up the stairs, his face lit up in joy, as he pulled the dish over to him, spooning out a full plate of shells this time. “I guess their loss is my gain.” He went back down to lounge against his own wall.

An easy silence fell. The noises of the city a distant juxtaposition to the bubble they had created. Just two people enjoying food. Enjoying a little down time. Enjoying peace.

****

A few days later, Jason came home to a surprise. He didn’t expect to really hear from his neighbor again beyond the occasional waves and hellos they had previously established. Just the coming and going in the stairs or passing on the street. But there on the outside of his window was a sticky note. Black with tiny nebulas, Jason’s name was scrawled with silver glitter gel pen and an arrow pointing down.

He opened the window and looked down to see if Danny was out, Jason spotted a ziplock bag full of cookies and a thermos. With Danny nowhere in sight, Jason inspected the note again and on the other side was more writing.

“I can’t cook anything near as good as what you made, but these are my favorite cookies from the bodega by campus. I like them with cardamom tea.”

Jason opened the bag and caught a whiff of the cookies. He had fully intended to run them through a spectrometer but the enticing scent of ginger snaps and some urge deep within his soul overrode his caution. He took a small bite. And they were delicious. The spices were deep and warm. The molasses earthy. Setting them aside for a moment, he opened the thermos and took a tentative sip. The tea was still warm and lightly sweetened. The sharp spices of the tea playing well off the warmth of the cookies.

He’d never had anyone leave him offerings like this. The thought stopped him for a moment.

Gifts. Not offerings, gifts. He shrugged and grabbed a book from his TBR shelf. Settling in with the cookies and tea to relax before he had to go out for patrol. His mind was distracted by stray thoughts of what he might be able to leave his neighbor in return.

****

Danny hated his teachers. He hated this city. He hated his creaky apartment. Though he didn’t mind the eye candy of his upstairs neighbor when they passed on the stairs. And if Danny turned around once in a while to watch Jason go up the stairs and enjoy the view? Well that was just the payment he deserved from the universe for the elevator always being out. There were other perks too, Danny decided thoughtfully. He and Jason had been leaving each other little offerings on the fire escape and it had become the best part of Danny’s day. It wasn’t every day, maybe more like once a week. But the joy he got when there was a little package outside his window? Unparalleled. As if matching Danny’s galaxy post it note energy, Jason left notes with his gifts on stationary that looked like old parchment paper, quotes from classic authors printed along the bottoms. Just a little explanation of what the gift was and where it was from. Or sometimes, if it were a homemade dish, Jason would include where he’d got the recipe from. Danny was on the look out for a larger notepad that was still space themed. He found he was running out of space on his post its and using two seemed like trying too hard, as if going out and buying all new stationary wasn’t also trying too hard. But Jason didn’t have to know it was new. Danny could have already had this.

To Danny’s joy, there was a take out box outside under his window today. No Jason to be seen, but they rarely made it outside at the same time. Their schedules rarely lined up.

“I found a new korean place over off Vermont St. I got you some char sui pork buns. I hope they help tonight while you’re studying for finals. The things you’ve left for me have always made my evenings better. -Jason”

And at the bottom, the little book quote read “‘Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’ ‘You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte. ‘That in itself is a tremendous thing.’” -Charlotte’s Web

What had started as a simple shared meal from Jason making too much food after work had become the best part of Danny’s week. And it seems like Jason might feel the same. A lovely give and take of food offerings. A courtship. Or at least, Danny liked to think of it that way. But even just simple friendship was a welcome feeling. At least now he knew Jason also liked their little dance and this wasn’t out of some misconstrued obligation. And Jason even remembered that he was a student and that it was finals week. That extra thought had Danny blushing as he took the buns to his kitchen counter and stuck the note on his fridge with a comet shaped magnet. Danny kept all the notes Jason left. Luckily the fridge couldn’t be seen from the window because otherwise Danny would die (again) of embarrassment. As it was, he simply enjoyed his dinner while rereading Jason’s words.

****

“Wait a minute” Dick interrupted Jason’s story description of Danny’s most recent gift of curry and boba tea. “So you and this guy-” “Danny,” Jason corrected. Dick nodded, a conspiratorial smile growing. The kind of smile your brother gets when he stumbles across potential blackmail material on you. “So you and Danny” Jason did not like that tone, “have been leaving gifts outside each others windows.” Jason nodded, “Every week, or MORE,” Dick looked pointedly at Jason for confirmation, to which Jason nodded again. “And you FINALLY tell him that his gifts ‘make your day better’ and you use the page with a quote from Charlotte’s Web about FRIENDSHIP?”

“What’s the matter with that? It’s not like I picked it specifically. It was just the next page.” Jason was beginning to regret sharing this joy with his dick of a brother.

“Ok, So.” Dick threw his arm around Jason’s shoulders, “We need to either work on your delivery, or get you some stationary with better quotes. You’re clearly over the moon about this guy-” “Hey, what makes you say that? I just- It’s- I…”Jason stuttered, trying to gather his scrambled thoughts. “Having something to look forward to after I get off patrol is nice. And having someone go out of their way to do that for me…”

Dick really looked at his brother. It wasn’t often that Jason managed to look small these days. But there he sat, shoulders hunched, fingers fiddling with Danny’s most recent note. It wasn’t a sticky note size, but a small half page. Very much like Jason’s own notepad with the quotes from famous authors. He was absentmindedly folding the paper back and forth, making lines from star to star among the constellations decorating the page. “Jason,” Dick dropped his teasing tone and waited for his little brother to look up. “It sounds like you’ve got a good thing going here. I wouldn’t want you to mess it up by being impatient. You laid out your cards, in a small careful way, and you received something in turn,” he nodded to the creased note. “Keep taking those steps. I can see how happy this has made you, even as simple as it is. Keep finding things you think he’ll like. Keep leaving your little courtship gifts. And maybe just flip through your stationary and pick the quotes a bit more deliberately,” Dicks eyes glinted dangerously, “You lit’ nerd.” Dick quickly flipped backwards from sitting into several handsprings across the training mat, his maniacal laughter echoing across the cave as he tried to escape the very predictable ire of his younger brother.

“Oh that’s it! You’re in for it now!” Jason rolled up onto the mats to chase Dick, joy in his heart and violence on his mind. Danny’s note settled to the floor, waiting for Jason’s response. “I hope you like curry! I got a medium spicy, but eat it with the naan if it’s too hot. Your gifts are the highlight of my day whenever you leave me something.” And then, hand written at the bottom of the page where Jason’s stationary had quotes, “With all the stars in the sky, and all the people in the world, I’m glad I ended up in a constellation next to you.”

****

“Guys, I’m going to die.” Danny declared and then promptly face planted into Sam’s couch. They were having their monthly catch up dinner and hang out. Sam was attending Metropolis University for Law with a minor in environmental studies. Her parents weren’t happy with her obvious post grad plans, but she was fulfilling their terms of getting a traditional, respectable degree, so they were footing the bill. That included her off campus apartment because no daughter of theirs was about to live in those dingy college dorm rooms.

Tucker was attending MIT while also building a name for himself in the hacker community. Two streams he was desperately trying to keep from crossing, lest MIT expel him on ethics.

Danny, of course, was attending Gotham U for aerospace engineering and astronomy. Their schedules made it hard to find a common evening once a month that they were all free. Danny’s ability to make portals (thanks to a new set of powers and abilities that came with being Ghost King of the infinite realms) made it slightly easier to get everyone in the same room once they found the time. Danny’s muffled voice drifted up from the couch cushions.

“What was that Danny? I couldn’t quite get that through the literal couch in your face.” Sam sassed.

Danny lifted his face from the fluff and whined, “I left Jason the sappiest note and by the time I came to my senses, he had already taken iiiiiiiiiit! And now he’s read it and he hates me and he’s never going to talk to me again or leave me homemade cookies or anything else ever again and it’s all because I read too deep into a quote from fucking Charlotte’s Web!” He flopped onto his back and then slowly melted off the couch, thumping to the floor when Sam pushed him to make room to sit down with her pho bowl.

“Come on man, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Tucker said. “Tell us what you wrote.” “No.”

“Don’t make me check the security footage. You know we’ve got HD cameras on your place.” Tucker, horrible friend that he was, was already pulling up the footage. The cameras had been installed as a valid security measure but were mostly used to retrieve blackmail footage against Danny by his friends. Danny had a tendency to glow and float as he stargazed on rare clear nights in Gotham and Sam and Tucker gave him no end of shit about it.

“Did you find it?” Sam asked excitedly, crowding closer while holding Danny off with a boot to the face.

“Yep! Let’s see, ‘Hope you like curry,’ blah blah blah, oh here. ‘With all the stars in the sky, and all the people in the world, I’m glad you ended up in a constellation next to me.’ You’re right.” Tucker declared solemnly. “It is bad. He’s never going to talk to you again. He’s gunna move states. Dye his hair. Change his name! You’ll never find him again and you’ll never find love.” Tucker lost his deadpan demeanor and dissolved into laughter.

Danny glared at him and phased the couch out from under him. Tucker hit the floor still laughing and didn’t stop.

“Captain Chuckles can stay on the floor, but please re-solidify my couch. I like it to exist in this dimension.” Sam nudged Tucker ever so gently out of the way so that the couch could exist again.

“But really. Was it too much?” Danny asked Sam, since Tucker was clearly just going to be useless.

“I think it was honest and forward. I think if you guys had been going on traditional dates, then it might be too much.” Dannys face fell and his shoulders slumped. “But!” Sam interjected quickly, “That is not what you guys are doing. For better worse, you have some archaic courting ritual going on. You’ve only been exchanging words and gifts. Small offerings of your heart and soul. To give less than your full self in this situation would be disingenuous. I don’t think it was too soon, especially since he initiated the sentiment. Sure, writing down undying love,” Danny and tucker both chuckled at the ‘undying’ part and Sam kicked them both for it, “Would have been too much. But directly stating that you enjoy the little dance you have going on? And that you like him? Nah. I think you did good. Especially since he’s clearly a literary nerd.”

“Yeah” Tucker chimed in, “He matches well with your space nerd!”

“Oh that’s it! You’re in for it now!” Danny rolled off the couch and chased Tucker around Sam’s spacious apartment, promising to freeze him to the ceiling once he caught him.

****

Jason decided to take a night off patrol. Nothing major should be going on tonight. The Alley could do without him being a helicopter parent for one evening. He wanted to make a more involved meal for Danny. There was a good chance that they would see each other tonight. Jason had connected some dots and realized that Danny, the beautiful face and soul that he was, liked to stargaze on clear Gotham nights. This would be the first clear night in weeks and there was no way that Danny would miss the opportunity.

So Jason got started early. Rissoto didn’t look fancy but it took skill to get right. The results, when done right, were amazing. Jason had also picked up a bottle of wine. Call it wishful thinking, but he hoped Danny would share it with him and they might sit down and really get to know each other. That would be nice.

****

As Jason stood, stirring his hopes and risotto, Danny was one floor down trying not to burn the entire building down. This was his fourth night trying to make the same thing. He’d watched so many videos. So many tutorials. All of them said this could be done by a beginner cook if they just followed the steps. None of them really sold how difficult it was though. Someone needed to start a cooking channel where an average person tried to follow these recipes.

The first attempt, several nights ago, ended in him realizing that he could not melt sugar on top of a creme brulee in a plastic ramekin. Fire plus plastic is bad. That was the first batch ruined.

The second batch didn’t set in the oven. Which didn’t make sense because he’d done everything the same as the first batch, which had turned out fine.

The third batch, he turned the oven up just a but realized while he was cleaning up egg shell that he’d never actually put eggs into the second batch. By the time he got the third batch out of the oven, they were horribly over cooked.

For the fourth batch, he laid out all his ingredients, portioned and in order of use. Set his oven back to the right temperature and gave an offhanded prayer to Clockwork for proper timing.

The timer dinged, the custards wobbled ever so slightly and Danny about collapsed with relief as he got them safely removed from the oven and set on his counter. He took a moment to contemplate how he’d ended up cooking the same dessert four nights in a row. These were way too complicated for him. But he’d done this to himself. He’d looked up “impressive desserts to make for your date” and Creme Brulee topped half the lists. Last step was to toast the tops with a micro torch after they cooled.

Danny returned to his homework while he waited.

****

Jason opened his window, two servings piping hot seafood risotto plated and ready. He’d heard muffled cursing from downstairs, so he knew Danny was home. Most likely cursing one of his professors. Jason left the bottle of wine just inside his window. He was hopeful that the evening would go well but no sense in being presumptuous. He wasn’t even sure if Danny liked wine, or drank at all!

Starting down the fire escape, Jason was surprised to see Danny already out. He was peering into the eyepiece of a telescope muttering to himself. Danny did talk to himself a lot now that he thought about it. Not wanting to startle him, Jason waited on the upper level of the fire escape and simply watched. Admired the object of his affections these past months. It was odd to think how much they’d both put into the relationship so far for how little time they’d actually spent together. Danny sat on the stairs in his Nasa hoodie and some Justice League pajama pants, which caused Jason to chuckle quietly to himself.

Sitting next to Danny was an open notebook, Danny’s chaotic handwriting scattered over the page along with some very precise charts. Jason almost didn’t believe they were hand drawn except that they were penned in the same aggressively bright neon green sparkly gel pen as the chicken scratch writing. What a strange dichotomy. Next to the notes sat a tray with two ramekins of creme brulee. As Dannys hand moved down to make some notes Jason noticed several bandaids with burns peeking out from under them. Had Danny made the creme brulees himself? He’d mentioned a few times that he was hopeless in the kitchen. Had he gone to all that trouble and apparently pain, to make something for Jason?

For no particular reason, Jason needed to clear his throat, which startled Danny of his concentration trance. “Oh! You’re here!” Danny said. He capped the eyepiece and looked around. “I made you something. You’re always making things for me and I’ve just been buying things so I wanted to put more work into your gifts. So I made these. For….For us. I was hoping you’d eat with me? I waited out here for you. Also it was a great night for some stargazing so I was just doing that while I waited, of course, because sometimes you come home really late. Not that I’m watching you!” Danny’s hands came up defensively, a blush coloring his cheeks as he rambled. Eyes darting away, he started clearing off the stairs for them to sit. Moving his notebooks and the creme brulees. Jason just smiled at the disaster he was already half in love with. He couldn’t wait to learn all of Danny’s quirks and habits. Would he always ramble on or was this just jitters? Would Danny’s face light up the same way every time Jason came home from patrol? He hoped so. He wanted to make this work. He wanted to come home to that face.

“I’m actually really glad you’re out here,” Jason said, saving Danny from himself. “I’ve seen your telescope and noticed that you like to come out on clear nights. I was hoping you’d have dinner with me again. I made seafood risotto. It’s shrimp and muscles. Would you like some?” Jason presented the plates to Danny as he came down the stairs.

“Yeah. I’d love to have dinner with you. I like any food that doesn’t try to eat my back. I don’t think I’ve ever had risotto. Let me just finish moving my junk.” He smiled as he set everything off to the side in a pile.

Jason settled down and handed one of the plates and a fork over to Danny. “How has school been going? I think you mentioned you were going for engineering?” Danny nodded. “What made you pick Gotham U? Most people are trying to leave the city, not come here.”

“Oh, that’s easy. But two reasons really. First, Gotham U has the Wayne Tech scholarship program and the great internship programs. I’ve also heard hush-hush rumors about some great job opportunities that recruit from Wayne Tech. If it’s true, I want to be here.” Danny gazed up longingly at the sky. Wayne Tech of course had partnerships with NASA but that was a well known connection. It wasn’t hush hush. The only thing Jason could think of that Danny would be alluding to would be jobs on the Watchtower. They did hire civilians, but the Justice League hand selected the best of the best. Bruce and Lucius kept their eyes out for those people. Not that he supported nepotism, but Jason wouldn’t mind making sure Danny’s name got added to the hat once he was ready.

“The other reason,” Danny said, breaking Jason out of his future planning, “is that Gotham is the only city I could find with even half the amount of crazy as Amity, my home town. We had some crazy super villains and after growing up with that daily madness, I can’t settle down in a peaceful city.” He took a moment to savor the food, bliss coming across his face. It made Jason want to make more food for him. Jason wanted to bring him that joy again. To provide for Danny and take care of him. “This is really good! I love your food. Best thing I’ve ever had every time. I just hope what I made doesn’t give us both food poisoning.” “Hey, I’m sure it’s great. Did you burn your fingers making that? I saw the band aids. Even if you need chaos, I’m sure you don’t need to make more by burning yourself making dessert. Just walk through the alley in the daytime and I’m sure you’ll get enough excitement.”

“Nah, Muggers are small potatoes.” Danny contested. “Most exciting thing that can come of that is Red Hood showing up. And I’m typically not out while he’s patrolling. Hood keeps most of the rif raf out of the area, so I generally feel safer here than the rest of Gotham.”

“Hmmm. So Hood is doing better than the bats and birds? I’m sure Batman would love to hear that.” Jason bumped Danny’s shoulder playfully. “Since you’ve been here for a few months now, do you have a favorite bat or bird?”

“Red Hood.” Danny said quickly and decisively. “Definitely Red Hood. Not only does he have his area on lock down, so much so that even the other Bats stay out. Black Mask? Nope. Traffickers? Gone. Most violence? Low level. I know some of the bigger name rogues will ignore all the boundaries but they’re really not known for following the rules so they don’t really count. And also he’s….” Danny stopped abruptly, a blush coming over his cheeks. “But what about you? You grew up here. Who’s your favorite?”

“That’s a hard choice. I remember when it was just Batman and Robin OG. So I would say it was original Robin, then Nightwing, but then he abandoned us for Bludhaven. Now It’s probably BlackBat. Though the current Robin is also doing a great job. He gets a lot of shit for being so young and violent but what do people expect? Of course he’s violent. Being Robin is not easy. It’s- And now I’m rambling on.” Jason chuckled. “BlackBat. She’s my favorite. For now.”

“Hmmm. I haven’t heard a lot about her. It makes sense since what I have heard is that she’s the stealthiest of the bats.”

Some time during the conversation they had relaxed, no longer holding a strict gap between their bodies. Forks clinked as they sat shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip on the narrow fire escape staircase. A peaceful silence fell around them like a cozy blanket.

“Can I try one of the creme brulees?” Jason asked, having finished his food already. “I would hate to see all your hard work, pain, and suffering go unappreciated.”

“Sure, but you’re taking your life into your own hands. Just do me a favor and lie to me about how good it is.” Danny passed one of the desserts and a small spoon over to Jason. Their hands touched and they both paused, but neither pulled away.

A gentle smile grew on Jason’s face as a blush returned to Danny’s cheeks but still neither pulled away. The world seems to pause around them, allowing them this moment. The soft light coming from the windows flickered….and then went out.

“Um…What just happened?” Danny asked, looking around. The ambient glow of Gotham still loomed in the distance but most of the closer lights had gone out, just street lamps remained. Down at the end of the street, a red glow flickered. The glow of fire. “I gotta go.” They both said at the same time. Their eyes met in the dim light. Shadows made masks on their faces and sudden understanding lit their eyes. A mutual epiphany.

“Be safe.” Danny said to Red Hood. “You too.” Jason responded before darting back up the stairs and into his apartment.

****

Danny’s mind was reeling. How could he not have noticed? All the clues were there in hindsight. The late nights. The tired days. The various bruises and scrapes. Even the vague half answers and glaring lack of personal info in their brief conversations. But in that moment of calamity, Jason’s entire demeanor shifted. His shoulders squared and resolution threaded every fiber of his frame, and what a great frame it was. On the plus side, Danny felt less conflicted about staring at Red Hood’s ass while courting Jason. They were the same ass. The same thighs. The same broad shoulders that Danny had way too many private thoughts about.

Focus Danny!

Once he got into his closet, he transformed. While he no longer shouted “Going Ghost” at the top of his lungs (He was young, leave him alone), he didn’t have any way to dampen the bright flash of light his transformation gave off. So into the closet he went.

Flying through his apartment walls and over the battle zone he quickly assessed the lay of the land. There seemed to be two groups shooting at each other from opposite corners of the street. Behind every available place of cover and down every alley, people were hiding. Sneaking into the intersection from their apartment was Red Hood, also assessing the situation from the ground. His eyes raked over both factions, the civilians, the fire escapes and windows, and even the rooftops. Danny was impressed because few people thought to look up. Danny allowed himself to pop back into the visible spectrum as Jason’s gaze passed over the rooftop Danny was hovering over. Nobody else was looking up. Nobody ever looked up.

Danny pointed at Hood, then at the violence. Then after a pause, pointed at himself and circled his hand around to indicate the surrounding area. He hoped Hood would catch that Danny was going to take care of the civilians and general crowd control. Jason nodded and took out two of his guns, checking the safety and loads before focusing on the task ahead. Danny faded back to invisibility and looked around for the most vulnerable of the civilians to get them out first.

****

The firefight took much longer to handle than Danny expected. He was used to one on one or maybe himself versus a group, but never a gang war like this. Never with so many people. So many combatants. So many innocents in the line of fire.

The noise in the streets had been like listening to a bag of popcorn. Shots overlapping. Echoing endlessly. A constant incomprehensible cacophony of gunfire. As Danny got more civilians to safety, the density of noise began to wane. Little by little the gunfire spread out as Hood disabled the shooters and their weapons until it went from constant noise to just isolated pops to silence.

Danny allowed himself to become visible atop the same roof as earlier when he noticed Jason looking for him once more. Danny held his fist out, thumb to the side, head cocked in question. Red Hood returned the thumb out fist and turned it up briefly, before pointing with his thumb over his shoulder back towards their apartments. Danny turned up his thumb to match and nodded before disappearing and leaving Hood to the mercy of the converging Bats. Danny didn’t even remember them showing up. He was so focused on getting people to safety. He was glad Jason had help though. He sped back to his own apartment to wait. To pace restlessly and hope that Hood hadn’t been hurt.

****

Jason was annoyed. Bruce was annoying for trying to act like he was in charge while standing in Jason’s damn apartment. Tim was annoying, standing off to the side while silently judging Jason’s lack of coffee choices. Oracle was annoying for sending Bats his way when she heard him get winged by a stray round at the beginning of the firefight. He was even annoyed with himself for somehow missing that Danny was apparently a vigilante? Or maybe a rogue? He needed them to leave. He needed to check on Danny. There was clearly some kind of powers involved but nothing to say that Danny couldn’t be hurt. That he wasn’t hurt. He’d seen Danny peek his head around the window frame three separate times before literally disappearing from view each time. Clearly waiting until Jason was alone again to talk.

“Look.” Jason interrupted whatever Bruce was saying. “I’m tired. I was already in for the night before that clusterfuck even began. I need you both out of my place because I have a date with a cup of tea and possibly a shot of whiskey.” Jason stalked over and opened the front door in clear invitation to leave. “Out. And tell O to mind their own business and butt out of my feeds.” Jason continued to motion out the door. Gentleman that he was, he even waited politely until their capes were all the way out the door before slamming it behind them. Jason took a deep breath and turned around as he felt the air shifting.

“Are they gone yet?” Danny asked. His inexplicable white hair from the battlefield was gone but he was floating a couple inches off the floor.

Jason wondered if he knew he was doing it as he walked over to retrieve the bottle of wine.

“Yeah. They’re gone for now. Let’s talk.”

#dead on main #dpxdc #danny phantom #jason todd #red hood #my writing #deadonmayn24 #Not beta read #we die like our boys #courtship rituals #flickering #prompt fill #the word count got away from me #Fire Escape

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pillow-princess-diaries · 1 year ago

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𝙱𝚂𝙳 𝙼𝚎𝚗 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚍 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚃𝚘 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙰𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚘 𝙿𝚎𝚐 ‘𝙴𝚖…

Summary:- how the bsd fellas would react to you asking to peg em

Pairings :- Dazai, Atsushi,Kunikida,Ranpo, Chuuya,Akutagawa,Tachihara, Poe, Jouno,Tecchou x Fem!Reader (seperately)

Tw:- pegging, anal (m receiving), handjobs, mentions of dirty talk (and a single line in poe’s part)

W/C :- 1.2k-ish

A/N :- Thank You to @chuuyassluttychoker and @falloutjuli for givin me their feedback on this before i posted it. And Now Thanks To Yall pegging Kunikida in just floating in my head 😭 Thank U To My Bestie @sapphic-serenade too!

This Could Pass as a Gn! Reader except for one line in jouno’s part and mentions of calling the reader, princess and queen in Tachihara’s part

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DON’T FOLLOW, YOU’LL BE BLOCKED!

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘼𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝘿𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝘼𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙮

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢

doesn’t mind it tbh. He’d honestly love to have you do all the work while he sits back and takes it.isnt opposed to it and he’s so normal abt it it feels like he’s done it before🤨.takes it all in like a champ! And the way he moans your name just makes you wanna stay buried in him.he’s such a wet cat of a man it’s impossible to not enjoy his squirming~ especially when he looks so pretty and pathetic around your cock.face down ass up ofc~

𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢

Definitely caught off guard when you ask!would be very iffy about it but when he sees your excited face and sparkling eyes,he just cant seem to say no!please be gentle with him,lube it up real good and slowly insert it. He’ll be a squirming and mewling mess for just the first inch,but dw he can take it.unless he says otherwise,in which case please pull out and tell him how good he was for you🥺 it’ll motivate him to take more later.what can i say this man is a slut for praise,and in cases like this it really tends to work in your favor~

𝐊𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐚

Honestly i dont see him bein pegged…he just doesn’t seem like the type to be down to try it.best case scenario you could ask him to do it on maybe a special occasion like your birthday! That’s when the chances of him saying yes are the highest.so if you somehow dooo get him to agree,know he will nott be still.Kunikida is more sensitive than he looks (in more ways than one iykwim ;} ) so you will definitely need to ease him into it,maybe use your fingers as a little precursor ,and if he gives you the go-ahead,be.gentle. He wont be able to do too much on your first try.Thank Him and tell him it’s alright please 🥲. (Dw he’ll more than make up for it later in the night.)

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨

This man doesn’t give a single solitary fuck.doesnt care if you wanna fuck him in the ass as long as he gets to be your pillow princess~ he can surprisingly take a good amount in and oh Godd the little noises he makes💞 If you thought dazai would sound pathetic nah uh,ranpo takes the cake.he lets out the cutest little mewls as his head hits the pillow.he’s folded in half, your ploughing into him and he’s taking you so Goddam gooddd. He’ll act bratty fs,so maybe plug him up a little to teach him a lesson. Maybe even add a vibrator to the mix~ (he will DEMAND snacks afterwards😭 give em to him pls🥺)

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙋𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙈𝙖𝙛𝙞𝙖

𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚

very VERY skeptical.doesnt like the feeling of being penetrated from the rear,but the thought of being at your mercy and under your influence,just…makes him a little more likely to relent.what can i say,he finds you taking the lead hot as Fuck! And while he’s definitely more of a top,i kinda feel like he has moments where he wouldn’t mind being pampered a little~Takes it quite well(surprisingly) and his little whines are the bestt ,if you dirty talk him while you’re pushing in,he’ll break his sentences with little gasps and moans in the middle and they just make you want to keep going.If u jerk him off while you rut into him he’ll definitely be caught off guard but it turns him on tbh.But you’d best believe that once youre done with him,he’s gonna flip you over and RUIN you.You had your fun,now it’s time for him to remind you who’s actually in charge~

𝐀𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

Nope.nah uh. No matter how much you beg,he’s not lettin you do it. Akutagawa doesn’t get intimate much,(idk i see him like sheldon from The Big BangTheory in this regard) and when he does he is in charge.he obvs wants u to feel good too but he does have a line he doesn’t wanna cross.also he feels like that puts him in a vulnerable position and doesn’t like it…its not that other positions don’t also put him in a vulnerable position,it’s just that this one makes him more uncomfortable…please dont pressure him into it🥹

𝐓𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

I honestly believe this bitch would be the most down to try it😭.He’ll be visibly chill when you suggest it,but inside he’s both anxious and excited, Goes with you to pick out a dildo.(if you dont already hv one that is) and gets flabbergasted when he finds out there are ones that actually cum!😭 (you have to convince him to leave it for next time🥲) when actually doing it,hes so verbal. Cussing,moaning,and praising you.wouldnt mind if you were a little rough. If you have him sit on your strap while you jerk him off he will physically fall apart; putty in your hands,if you will. Moves around and when you grip his hips to keep him still, he moans. While he likes to think of himself as a top,he’s a total bottom,but cam def top if you want him to.you’re his queen,princess and he’ll gladly be your good little boy☺️

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙙

𝐏𝐨𝐞

Blushes immediately but agrees. Reads up on pegging so he knows what to do,he really wants to do good by you smh🥲.would prefer if you guys did it in missionary so he can see you go at him but wouldnt mind you coming in from the rear either .just a little idea,when youre hittin it from the back,grip his hair and lift his head a little before leaning in and asking him, “who’s my whiny little baby~” watch as he whimpers before answering with a strained “me.” Oh also this man is definitely the most sensitive of the ones on this list. He makes the cutest noises too~ poe’s little whimpers and whines are honestly music to your ears and when you’re done,kiss him and tell him how good he was for you,he’ll physically deflate and give you the cutest fucked out smile🥺

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘿𝙤𝙜𝙨

𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐨

Aint no way in hellll youre pegging this man! The mere suggestion has him bending you over to remind you who’s in charge.just because he can,he might just put the tip of the dildo you’d planned on using on him,into your folds while he takes you from behind. will not stop until he has you moaning out how stupid it was for you to even suggest that.fucks you so good youre nothing but a mess of cum and moans.So if you wanna get fucked up harder than usual,just casually suggest pegging him and in no time you’ll be “regretting” your decision.what can i say,he likes being in charge and likes it when you remember☺️

𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐮

When you suggest it to him,he thinks for a bit before nodding. He’d love to help you try new things while also trying something new for himself! He’s perfect like that☺️.isn’t particularly vocal but his breaths are heavy. If he says anything its, “y/n~ hnghhh~youre so~hnuhhh” if you use a vibrating strap, the moment you turn it on,he groans before it turns into a lowly moaned “fuck~” definitely gasps every few seconds when you rub his g-spot. Oh also doesnt mind you pulling his hair a little.Tecchou is a badass in the streets,but your little princess in the sheets and neither of you would change it for the world.

Tag-List : @diagonal-queen , @sapphic-serenade

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urlocalboynoah · 2 months ago

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Hi! May I request Ultra Magnus (tfp) having to watch Jack, Miko and Raf for a day, being forced to play a board game and to the surprise of everyone getting very invested in it?

☆彡彡 ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ミミ☆

Hi !! I'd be more than happy to provide you with some content! AS MUCH AS I DISLIKE THIS BOT (joke, kinda, he's just old..) I think he's interesting to work with. So, here we go ! I apologize if this isn't perfect, it's my first time posting something I've wrote before. It'll be a small fic, let me know what you think of it !

¹ ❥ ☆ Mini Fic

² ♰ Transformers Prime

³ ˋˋ SFW ☆

Just one game !

“ Here is her guitar, her hairbrush, drawing book and all her drawing stuff. ”

Bulkhead pointed out each element as he spoke, making sure of Ultra Magnus following his exact directions. The ex-leader looked at the Wrecker confused, raising an eyebrow. He seemed to be wondering what could go so wrong with such tiny humans, and why the big bot felt so anxious at the idea of leaving Miko behind. He thought he was certainly being overdramatic.

“ that should be everything.. I need to go, they're gonna wait for me. ”

Bulkhead simply added before quickly waving Miko goodbye, transforming and entering the groundbridge, as Bumblebee and Arcee were already far ahead.

The bridge closed, and finally it was only him and the humans. He still wondered what so bad could happen for the three guardians to be worried. He looked over at them, sat on the couch, playing video games. They were relatively calm and still. The older bot thought now would be a great time to start working on some of his unfinished projects. The base was calm, the kids were entertained.

For now.

A loud, strident yelp came out from behind him. Startled, he looked over at the kids, instantly worried someone broke in. But no, it was just the Japanese girl, shouting at her friends because she lost the game. The commandant rolled his eyes, visibly annoyed.

“ Will you tone it down ? ”

He firmly asked, though it sounded more like an order. The young girl looked at him desperately, groaning.

“ THEY'RE CHEAATIIIIIING. I keep loosing, it's unfair. ”

“ In that case, you should switch games. ”

He stated, as if it was an evidence for him to move on from something that gets on your nerves. The girl stared at the bot, as if he said an absurdity, before she exclaimed.

“ YOU'RE A GENIUS !! let's play.. A board game!! What do you guys think ? ”

Jack shrugged and crossed his arms, apparently okay with the idea. The younger of them all jumped off of the couch, excited by Miko's proposal.

“ awesome idea ! Though, we miss a player. ”

Raf stated, his hands now on his chin, thinking.

It didn't take long for Jack to point at Ultra Magnus.

“ hey! Wanna join ? We'll teach you! ”

The leader looked perplex, not convinced at the idea of joining this “activity”. He stared for a moment, considering. It could be fun, after all, and give him a break from all the stress of battles.

“Very well. But only one game, I have to stay alert in case anything happens.”

The older boy nodded and signed him to get closer, which he did. The three humans started explaining to the bot the rules, to which he was surprisingly getting very interested in. They then got to the first game. Raf won, and, angry at himself, Ultra Magnus asked him some tips to get better.

“ how about we do a second round, then? ”

He proposed, to the happy surprise of the kids, that appeared to be pleased by the idea of the leader.

And then, they went on for hours.

The guardians came back several hours later, and, curious of the laughs and giggles they were hearing, snuck up on them.

They could not believe it. He was having a moment of genuine fun with the kids, that they all seemed to enjoy in it's fullest.

The three bots sighed in unison, relieved to see how well it went.

“Alright kids, it is getting late. Time for rest.”

The older bot announced, as he noticed the humans yawning. Without any signs of resistance, they hopped in his servos as he started walking to their room. He noticed Bumblebee, Arcee and Bulkhead here, to which he simply nodded without stopping. Once he made sure they were safe, he softly smiled.

“ I assume it went well..? ”

Arcee questioned, to which Ultra Magnus simply hummed.

“ we had a great time.”

He assured, a satisfied grin on his face.

. . . Written by Noah . . .ᐟ ☆

#ultra magnus #maccadam #transformers headcanons #transformers #tfp #transformers prime #tfp ultra magnus #miko nakadai #jack darby #raf tfp #miko tfp #j #mini fic #urlocalboynoah

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bakuhatsufallinlove · 8 months ago

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Omae Part 2 Electric Boogaloo

Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of my post Omae: Complexity of Self-Expression and Intimacy in the Japanese “You.” In honor of it, I’m doing a follow-up post.

Why? Because I made two claims in that post:

“as far as I can tell, Izuku is the only person Katsuki has ever used the pronoun omae (おまえ) towards in-canon”

“Furthermore, he has only used omae towards Izuku on three occasions.”

I prefaced both with “as far as I can tell” because I had some doubts that Katsuki’s use of omae was exactly that exclusive, but I knew it was pretty damn exclusive, so I went ahead and wrote the meta anyway. And I still stand by my assessments of how he uses it and what those moments mean.

But I was wrong on both counts.

Katsuki has used omae towards people other than Izuku.

He has used omae towards Izuku on five occassions, as of chapter 409.

Of course, chapter 409 wasn’t released until months after I wrote my pronoun meta, but at the time of my post, I had in fact missed one pivotal omae directed at Izuku that occurs much earlier in the series.

I wanna talk about those two extra omae towards Izuku and who else he has used omae towards. Much like Katsuki, I am a perfectionist, so if I'm gonna revisit this topic, I'm gonna go all the way.

So, I went through 409 chapters and catalogued every single time Katsuki uses a second-person pronoun.

STRAP IN, BUCKOS.

An Exhaustive Analysis of Bakugou Katsuki’s Second-Person Pronoun Usage

These are all the “you” pronouns Katsuki has used in the manga. We’ll go over them one-by-one and talk about who he uses them for, when, and my thoughts on why.

First, a note about rudeness: In many languages, and certainly in Japanese, familiarity and rudeness go hand-in-hand. In dictionaries and on grammar websites, you’ll see advice about using a term only with “people above you” or “people equal to or below you.” In general, you are either talking up to someone (polite speech) or you are talking down to them (casual speech). Excluding outright derogatory language, talking down to someone is the same as treating them as your equal.

Talking up creates or maintains distance between parties. Casual speech, familiar terms, and directness are nuances that generally get introduced into relationships as they deepen. Basically, being close to someone gives you the “right to be rude” to them. To speak this way with a stranger or people who are your hierarchical “social superiors” is considered rude in part because you lack an established (or equal) relationship with them.

I mention this because I think some people are under the misapprehension that for Katsuki to show someone he cares, he would have to speak respectfully towards them—that is, talk up to them. That simply isn’t the case, and in fact such behavior might convey callous indifference instead, because switching from casual speech to formal speech with someone you have history with puts distance between you, pushing them away.

Instead, there are more nuanced ways to connect and affirm bonds. Katsuki using omae rather than temee, for example, is not him being more polite, he's just being less insulting. He is still talking down, and one could argue that by refusing to talk up to anyone, Katsuki treats everyone equally. I mean he is still a foul-mouthed little monster, but you know, at least he’s consistent about it.

Anyway, keep this “right to be rude” in mind.

As mentioned in my first post, temee is basically Katsuki’s default second-person pronoun. If he’s addressing someone directly and he isn’t using one of his mean nicknames, it is almost guaranteed to be this word. This graphic is the only one that is not exhaustive, featuring just the top three.

Temee is derogatory; it is often translated as “you bastard,” and even when it’s not, its presence encourages translators to slather a veneer of rudeness across the sentence as a whole. Unlike the other pronouns we’re going to talk about, there is basically no scenario where you could use temee and not come across like an asshole. You could use it with friends or family to joke around, but you’re still being an asshole, just a funny one.

And... can we just acknowledge the vast gulf between Izuku’s 62 and runner-up Todoroki’s 14? Obviously Izuku is the protagonist, so it makes sense that much of the dialogue we are shown from any character is about him or directed at him. But it’s also just really funny.

No single use of temee is particularly notable since it's so common, but it is obvious why these two are at the top of the list: Katsuki has a lot of scenes with them, and he considers them his rivals. As a result, they tend to throw him into a tizzy often.

Anta is a contraction of anata. If avoiding a “you” pronoun entirely is the most polite way to refer to someone, anata is arguably the next most polite way. It is considered polite towards someone of “equal or lower status,” but can seem distant—you hear it in commercials when the narrator has to address the audience, “you, the customer.”

Anta strips away that distance and expresses either familiarity or contempt, depending on how you want to read it, which makes it pretty fucking funny that Katsuki uses it for his mentor figures. It is worth noting that anta is significantly less offensive than his typical temee and arguably even omae. A normal person would never use anta towards their boss or teacher—or their lifelong idol, for that matter—because it is talking down, which puts them on your level. But Katsuki’s whole persona is built around rebellious superiority, so out of all the options, he affords All Might and Best Jeanist the least offensive pronoun he can stomach using. Essentially, “I’m not gonna be fuckin’ polite but god, fine, I’ll be LESS rude, I guess” while still maintaining plausible deniability.

I also wanna note that there are instances where Katsuki technically uses temee towards All Might and anta towards Izuku, because he uses them in the plural form to refer to both of them at once. It’s actually pretty interesting to see who is framed as the “primary subject” of his scolding based on which pronoun he uses.

Chapter 257

All Might is the one droning on and on, so Katsuki’s response pluralizes his All Might pronoun anta into antara, lumping Izuku in with him. Basically: “stop wasting my time and get to the point (and that goes for you, too, Deku).”

Here we’ve got him pluralizing temee and, between All Might and Izuku, it’s definitely more the Izuku pronoun. So this reads a little like “dammit Deku you kept this secret so badly I found out and then you swore me to secrecy but you’re STILL UTTER SHIT AT HIDING IT so you are MAKING MY LIFE EVEN HARDER (and you, All Might, don’t you fucking know better??)”

Aaaand now we’re at the good shit. Okay, let’s break it down.

Ochako

Chapter 36

Katsuki addresses Ochako with omae at the very start of their Sports Festival battle, and this is in fact the first time he addresses her personally with a second-person pronoun. It’s a great writing choice: unlike every other fight we’ve seen Katsuki in so far, he isn’t busting out his typical boisterous insults. Rather, what he says reads as a measured assessment of her as a threat, and omae contributes to this. Had he used temee, he might still have come across this way on the whole, but the use of omae as the first word out of his mouth—when the audience knows he uses temee—sets this moment apart even more.

The text of Uraraka vs. Bakugou isn't ambiguous: Katsuki takes Ochako seriously, immediately, when no one else does. This is of course a rejection of sexist assumptions about girls, but it is also because Katsuki is smart. Kaminari’s battle is the foil to this fight. Where Bakugou succeeds, Kaminari failed, having been too sexist, cocky, and just plain dumb to properly assess his opponent and the danger they pose to him.

I said in my first post that Katsuki’s omae towards Izuku immediately after Deku vs. Kacchan 2 reads as him addressing Izuku as an equal, and I would say the same is true here.

After Ochako tries to execute her plan and Katsuki accuses her of colluding with Izuku, he uses temee towards her. It’s his standard choice, of course, but the change feels a little loaded in hindsight. She might have been afforded a different pronoun once, but she quickly gets lumped into the temee pile at least partly due to Proximity To Deku.

Katsuki talks the most shit when he’s on the ropes—a strategic, cocky camouflage for his vulnerability. We know from his thoughts watching Todoroki vs. Midoriya that at this moment, he was pretty worried he was at his limit. But Katsuki also likes a good challenge, and he respects people who can give it to him, so in gearing up for the climax of this fight, he calls her by her surname.

The progression: omae + mean nickname → temee → surname.

In later scenes, he addresses her with his typical temee, which just goes to show you that Katsuki really picks and chooses his moments.

Or, as All Might put it:

Speaking of picking and choosing his moments, this next one was a delight to discover.

Jirou

Chapter 182

As with Ochako, this is the first time Katsuki uses a "you" towards Jirou personally. To be precise, what he uses is a sound-shifted variant of omae pronounced omee (written variously as おめえ, おめー, and おめぇ). We’ll talk about whether that means anything later.

This occurs during the school festival when Jirou belts her heart out suddenly. Katsuki thinks back to how the band had criticized his improvisation and her specifically telling him not to do it during the show. So he says out loud, to himself, “omee ga surun kai,” for which I think the funniest translation would be, “OH BUT YOU CAN DO IT, HUH??”

The official English translation is “hypocrite!” which isn’t bad, but yeah, he is being such a grumpy little sarcastic baby about it, it’s very funny. Just muttering complaints under his breath, with no actual ill-will attached. The fact that he uses omee reinforces the sense that this is not a serious complaint; it’s good-natured ribbing and contributes to the reader’s awareness that Katsuki likes and respects Jirou.

While Kaminari and Sero mischievously try to trick him into participating in the festival, Jirou earnestly asks for his help while acknowledging his skill.

Chapter 171

On top of outright asking "onegai" (please, but literally: "a request"), the verb construction she uses (やってくれたら, yatte kuretara) frames his participation as a favor; kureru is basically “to do for the benefit of someone else [often to your disadvantage or inconvenience].” And then she personally works her ass off to make their performance the very best it can be.

Later during the Joint Training Battle, Katsuki relies on her, uses a nickname for her (to her annoyance), and saves her. Kirishima and Kaminari both astutely comment that the festival band reinforced Katsuki’s trust in his classmates and his willingness to work with them towards success.

In this moment during the festival, Katsuki is letting Jirou shine, because each of them doing what they do best is what makes the performance a triumph in the first place.

But the boy’s still gonna be a bossy little tsundere about it.

4th Grade Bullies

Chapter 62

In Izuku’s flashback, little Katsuki uses omaera (plural form) towards the 4th graders who pick a fight with him.

You might be thinking, “Hang on, haven’t all the omae uses so far been for people Katsuki likes or at least respects? So why is he using it for these two?” And you’d be right, at least when it comes to present-day, teenage Katsuki using omae, because it’s no longer his default.

Flashbacks to Katsuki and Izuku’s childhood tell us that Katsuki’s default peer address as a kid was most likely omae, and that he switched to temee as he got older and became more of an obnoxious little shit. I emphasized in my first post that omae seems softer coming from Katsuki because it’s a departure from his normal way of speaking. The flashbacks show us a time when he was... kinda just a regular kid using language common among boys his age.

Still, there is a “cool tough guy” air to this moment, because omae can also come across as contemptuous—which is how Izuku uses it towards villains in present-day. Izuku uses boku for himself and kimi for peers, the combination of which tend to be seen as kind of soft and boyish, rather than macho and cool. Little Katsuki uses the boastful pronoun ore for himself and omae towards the bullies, who are both older and therefore technically "above" him.

So Izuku marvels at Kacchan, who talks big and tough like a grownup. Kacchan who can do anything, who stands his ground, fights to win, and invokes the heroic ideals of All Might.

Izuku

Chapter 9

The first time we see Katsuki call Izuku by his name is when we learn the origins of the nickname Deku. It also happens to be the first time we see Katsuki address someone with something other than temee. This scene shows us a glimpse of what their relationship looked like before it totally fell apart: before Katsuki nicknamed him Deku, he called him Izuku. And before Katsuki started hurling insults and screaming “you bastard” (temee!) at Izuku all the time, he used a different “you” word for him, too. Little Katsuki addressed him as a little boy would address a peer or a friend.

It made me wonder… is the aftermath of Deku vs Kacchan 2 the first time Katsuki has addressed him as an equal since they were little kids?

And, furthermore, little Katsuki uses the sound shifted variant, omee.

You might be surprised to learn that temee itself is a sound shifted variant of temae (手前, てまえ). Temae literally means “before the hand” and historically, it was a humble first-person pronoun, meaning “me, who stands before you.” Omae (お前) literally means “the one before [me],” it was historically very polite and only used for extremely high-class people. Somewhere along the way, temae became a second-person pronoun like omae, and both started to be perceived as quite rude.

Tough guy Japanese speech patterns are epitomized by sound shifts and bitten off words. Supposedly, this dialect originates in Tokyo’s historic Shitamachi area, which is characterized as rough and working class in sharp contrast to the wealthy, high class Yamanote area.

So, does omee mean something different than omae? Maybe, but not always. Does it mean something different when someone says “Thank ya” rather than “Thank you”? Or when someone says “y’all” rather than “you all”? Not exactly, but… does it feel different? It can.

Little Katsuki’s sound shift links this moment to our last example:

Chapter 409

As you acquire language, you develop a personal relationship with it informed by your experiences. More than just dictionary definitions, you gain cultural and emotional associations, and that impacts how you interpret media and other people. I don’t think anyone can say that omee definitively conveys something different than omae, but I do know that when I personally read Katsuki use it in 409, the shift feels like casual fondness. Like letting down your guard. A reassurance spoken softly. It somehow feels just a bit softer than if he had enunciated omae.

Years ago, Katsuki used it to tease Izuku about how he can’t do anything. And four hundred chapters later, he uses it to say “I won’t get in your way anymore.”

You should read pikahlua's really, really good meta about what this line means.

Whether it was intentional on Horikoshi’s part or not, I think it is a meaningful callback. These are the only two times Katsuki has ever used omee towards Izuku. It emphasizes how he has changed, yes, but it also ties in the context of his own past "uselessness" and how he has surpassed it, that he won't ever again be "a weakness others can exploit" to get to Izuku. But also, as pika says:

(And I read that he’s ready to let Izuku be the main character.)

The only other time Katsuki has used omee is towards Jirou, when he affectionately teased her for being a hypocrite while also making sure she got her time in the limelight.

And what does Katsuki think in the next chapter?

“Izuku, do your best.”

Izuku gets his time in the limelight. They each brought their own strengths to this final battle, and Katsuki has held up his end. He wasn’t a burden, he didn’t hold Izuku back—he came back from the dead, saved their hero, and took out All For One. Now Izuku has to do what he does best.

A lot of the things I said in this post simply reiterate the meaning of the text itself, and that's because the nuances in Katsuki’s dialogue support the narrative. They reinforce what the story tells us about him and his relationships, and I think that's pretty amazing.

#bkdk #translations #meta #mha 9 #mha 36 #mha 62 #mha 171 #mha 182 #mha 202 #mha 257 #mha 409 #mha manga spoilers

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brayneworms · 2 years ago

Text

closest to heaven that i'll ever be.

featuring. angel devil x gn!reader.

synopsis: angel's first time with you.

word count. 2.1k

content. smut, MDNI I CHECK, loss of virginity, crying, consent checks, d/s tones, sub!angel + dom!reader, gender neutral reader, guided masturbation, pet names (little love), we fuckin with gloves on, aftercare (it's brief but it's there), lmk if i missed anything.

notes. this originally had kobeni and aki in too but angel's part got way longer, so i'll post them separately :3 reqs are open btw so go ahead and req anything, just check my rules first ty.

"This is stupid."

Angel stares at you balefully; beyond the light flush adorning his pale face, he looks distinctly unruffled, no change from his usual apathetic demeanour. He sits cross-legged on your bed, arms folded, shoulders stooped. You pause in drawing the blind, tilting your head.

"What is?"

He throws you an irritable look. "This. The—this whole set-up. Why pretend when we both know the truth?"

You pull the blinds to, cutting the view of your bedroom off from wandering eyes below. The room stays lit with rosy lamps and projected stars, filtering through Angel's auburn hair. "And what truth is that?"

Angel scowls. "I can't touch you. So. What's the point."

"There's more to sex than that," you say matter-of-factly, secretly delighting in the way it makes Angel's blush darken. He rolls his pretty eyes, hands twisting in his lap. What little sunlight that isn't trapped by the blinds illuminates off his hair like gilt.

"Even so," he mutters. "It won't feel the same. It won't be... good. For me, or for you."

"How can you possibly know that, little love?"

His brows knit at the nickname, and it is a little much, but it feels right in any case, and you like the way it ghosts off your tongue, like the way it makes Angel's eyes droop. Still, his reaction invokes an interest in you, and you perk your head up.

"Have you tried? Before?" you inquire, moving back over to the bed. You sit, crossing your legs, keeping a safe distance—but Angel retracts himself all the same, recoiling back away from you and tucking his hands out of sight. You suppose it must be instinct by now, after so many years living in a body undesigned for love.

"So what if I haven't," Angel mumbles. "Doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"Humans have a saying—don't knock it 'till you try it."

"Humans are weird," Angel says flatly.

"Even me?"

"Especially you. This is tiring me out..."

You whap him on the shoulder. "Nono, stay awake! Okay, let me—okay. Just tell me, 'cause it's the only thing that matters... do you want to?"

Angel stiffens; behind him, his wings curl into each other protectively, the feathers ruffling as though offended. "W-what?"

"Like, just tell me." You fidget, slightly awkward. "I won't judge, obviously. You've heard more than enough embarrassing shit from me from the bottom of a bottle. So... have you? Thought about it?"

"About what?" Angel stares at you like you've grown a second head, but the flush on his face is darker than ever, wine-red and brilliant against the parchment print of his skin.

"Fucking me," you say bluntly, knowing there's zero point beating around the bush with Angel. He sputters, body tense like he's about to spring off the bed. "Or touching me. Or me touching you. Have you thought about it? Do you want it?"

"I—I..." Angel's mouth works soundlessly for a few moments, eyes wide and more awake than you've ever seen him. Then, unexpectedly, his whole form droops; you feel cold water wash over you, followed immediately by panic. "What's it matter? Like I said earlier, I can't... you can't... just stop making me think about it."

"Humans," you say quietly, "are more resilient than you give 'em credit for. 'Specially me. Cleverer, too, I think, 'cause back in whatever century some genius fucker came up with an invention that changed the world forever. Wanna know what it was?"

Angel stares at you, bewildered. "Uh..."

From the waistband of your sweats, you draw out a pair of gloves. They're on the thinner side, just shy of sheer, black. Expensive, woven from fine cotton. More than you'd ever spend on yourself. But for Angel, you can indulge, you suppose.

"Gloves," Angel deadpans.

"Gloves!" you repeat cheerily. "'Cause, yeah, maybe I can't touch you with my hands. But I... thought... I could touch you with yours."

Angel blinks rapidly. "I—I don't understand."

"Can I show you?" you ask quietly, and he makes a choked noise in the back of his throat, small and needy. After a few tense moments, he lifts a shoulder in a would-be careless shrug.

"Do as you please," he mutters. "Humans are so stubborn..."

You giggle and sit back, spine pressed against the headboard, and cock your legs out so they're straight before parting them. Angel looks quickly away, face aflame, but you pat the space between your thighs encouragingly. "Sit here? If that's okay. It'll make it more comfy."

Angel regards you warily. "You're eager to die, huh?"

Behind the petulance is worry, the sort he's never been good at dressing up, the sort he loathes that he has in the first place. You tilt your head, gaze soft, you hope.

"Nothing's going to happen. I"m all covered up, see?" You wave your arms quickly down your body, clothes from throat to toe. "Just have your head against my chest and it'll be fine."

Angel chews at his lip for a moment, torn between, you think, spurning you for your idiocy and accepting human touch for the first time in God-knows-when. Eventually, you suppose, his selfish side wins out; he turns around stiffly and lowers himself to lay against you. His hair splays out against the comfy spun cotton of your hoodie, and you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. You can feel the tension in his shoulders through your clothes and skin.

"There you go." Your voice slides into an unintentional low murmur, and Angel shivers against you, wings beating at your ankles. "You comfy?"

He nods, barely perceptible. Not seeing his face clearly is a little frustrating.

"Can you tell me?" you say, gentler than usual. "Just, you know. So I'm sure."

Angel huffs. "If I wasn't, I'd put my hand under your shirt and kill you. Even though that would mean a lot of paperwork, I'd do it."

"Okay, okay. So, um—can I? Touch you?"

Angel squirms. "I—I guess. If you're going to, then fine."

"No, little love. Tell me." You lower your head, putting your lips as close to his ear as you dare; it's still enough for your hot breath to stroke over the sensitive skin there, judging by the shiver that racks through Angel's body as you murmur. "I mean really tell me. Tell me where you want to touch yourself, where you want me to touch you."

"I—hn." His voice is starting to get a little strangled the further out of his comfort zone you prod him. "Why do you have to say such stupid things?"

"'Cause I like you," you admit, a little stiltedly. "I wanna... make you feel good. So. If you want to stop, we can stop."

"I—I didn't say that," Angel mutters. "I... you're close."

"I am." A pause. "Is that okay?"

He fidgets. "Yeah, I guess. It's fine." He pauses, then sighs. "I mean, it's nice. If that's what you wanna hear."

"Only if it's the truth," you say.

"It is, okay?" Angel sighs. "Okay. I... want... I want you to... touch me."

"Okay," you say, a touch too eagerly. "Okay, little love, can do. Where?"

"I—God." Angel buries his face in his hands; you can see the backs of his ears poking through the waterfall of tawny hair, singing scarlet. "Anywhere. Everywhere. I—hn."

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, palms clammy through the gloves. You lift one hand up and cup his face, feeling the thin line of his jaw, the warmth of his blanket of hair. Angel tilts into the touch unthinkingly, and you swear stars explode over your eyes.

When your other hand comes to rest at his hipbone, just over the jut of his waistband, Angel jolts.

"Here?" you ask, and he nods. You slide your hand over his stomach; his warmth is dulled by the fabric of the glove, but it's closer than you've ever gotten. You can feel everything that matters; the contraction of his muscles as he breathes in and out, the inclination his body has towards your touch, the xylophone of his ribcage singing with each quick breath he takes.

Your hand travels up, slowly, marking a railroad up the pale skin, smoothing over his sternum, ghosting over a nipple. At the contact, Angel gasps, back tensing against your chest as he arches into the touch. You feel him pebble through the cotton, and he squirms, twists his face to hide in your shoulder.

"There?" you whisper, and he gasps out,

"Yes. I—yes. More, there, more—"

He's so sensitive. You suppose it comes from a lifetime of never being touched. You can't imagine how lonely it is. You would've gone insane a long time ago. Your fingers circle over his nipple and then the other, 'till he keens, brows knitted together, mouth open in a small 'o', 'till the fabric of his trousers becomes noticeably strained.

"How about here?" you ask, fingers ghosting at his belt.

"You can't," Angel grits out. "It won't—with the glove, it'll h-hurt."

"I know, I know," you coax soothingly. "It's okay. You wanna touch yourself? I'll watch. It's okay."

Too far gone, you think, to argue like he usually might, Angel gets his hands out from fisting the bedsheets and shakily paws at his belt. There's the pop of a button and the sigh of a zipper, a 'V' of pale skin shrouded with wisps of auburn hair before he's pulling the fabric clumsily down to his ankles, boxers and all. You feel your breath stick in your throat like glass at the sight of him.

His whole body is trembling as he takes himself in his hand; the first experimental stroke has a shuddering breath tumbling out of him, the next a pitchy moan, so ethereal that it makes your skin raise in goosebumps. Angel collapses back into your chest, sweat sticking his hair at the temples, spine squirming against his rutting hand. His long legs twitch against yours, one tangling around like a snake, hooking your ankles together like holding hands.

It's so achingly sweet you could cry. When your hand wraps around his, forcefully slowing his pace, he whimpers out a broken-sounding noise, and your heart flutters.

He's so perfect. So gorgeous. It's a crime you can't touch him for real.

But for now—this will do. This will more than do.

Angel turns big eyes towards you, round as pennies, brighter than ever with fervour and the beginnings of tears dampening his long lashes.

"Is this okay?" you ask, and Angel nods like his life depends on it.

"Yeah," he gasps. "Yes. Want you to—h-hah..."

"What?" you ask, picking up the pace again. Angel writhes, free hand flying up to grip at the fabric of your sweatpants. "Want me to what, little love?"

Your thumb swipes hard over his tip, and Angel makes a high noise like a piano with its strings cut. "O-oh, oh, please, please I'm so close, I'm so—I can't, I feel so—hah!"

"It's alright," you assure him, heart thudding. The whole display has heat surging in your lower abdomen, but you can't think about that, it's about him, your Angel, it's only about him and tears break over his lashline and trickle down his cheeks as he gets closer to his peak, breathing becoming strained and ragged, and he's hot against you, filling you with a burning heat.

"I can't," Angel says wetly. "Hn, hnn, help me? Please, just—do something, I can't—"

Wordlessly, you push your free hand under his shirt again, circle his nipple before taking it between your fingers and tweaking, and Angel's whole body locks up; his back curves, wings twitching almost independently of the rest of his body, legs kicking at the mattress, and he sobs out as he comes, a pitchy wheezing broken sound that's going to live under your bones for the rest of your life.

He collapses back against you, totally spent. You do him the quiet mercy of tucking him away and pulling his slacks back up, buttoning them about his waist as he makes a face of discomfort. You run a tissue over his hands and stomach, mopping up his spend quickly before nudging a bottle of water against his lips. They're full and rosy as they lazily take the nozzle in, sucking absently like a drunkard going back for another swig.

"Was that okay?" you mutter, and Angel scoffs tiredly.

"Mmmn." He turns on his side, digging his face into your stomach. "It was... nice. I'm too tired to return the favour, though."

Fondness beats through you like a heartbeat, slow and syrupy. "It's okay. There's always next time."

Angel's wings flutter in tandem with his eyelids. "Mm," he agrees with a low hum of exhaustion. "Next time."

He's dead to the world within the next few minutes, breathing against your abdomen; as he sleeps, or dreams, or whatever it is devils do, his wings cocoon the both of you, like he's trying to keep you safe even in sleep.

#🫀.scribes #csm x reader #csm smut #csm x dom!reader #dom!reader #angel devil x reader #angel devil smut #angel devil x dom!reader #csm x gn!reader #csm x gender neutral reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man x dom!reader #sub!angel devil

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