#most of the time that money won't even go to the people in need

[unhinged-insomniac]

How a neglected story goes. [pt. 2]

Platonic Yandere! Batfam x Neglected! Reader

"Hurry up Drake I don't want to be late." The youngest Wayne called already rushing towards the limousine for tonight's events

"What's the rush baby bird it's still early." Replied Dick chasing after Damian

"Yeah," called Tim "it's just another gala."

"It's not just another gala!" Argued Damian sending a glare at Tim

"Damian has been looking forward to this auction since we got the invite." Bruce Wayne himself interject finally joining the family

"What's up with this auction anyway?"

"<tt> and they call you the detective."

"Now now everyone calm down."

Bruce smiles watching his children bicker, despite everything going on it's nice to have little family moments with them. It gave his chaotic vigilante life a little sense of normalcy.

"The artist that Damian has recently taken an interest with has finally resurfaced and they'll be auctioning off their work for the first time." Bruce took it upon himself to explain. It was nice to see that his child have normal interest for once.

"First time?" Dick muses "Don't artist get money through auctions?"

"Not if they have a sponsor," Damian interrupts "so far only Lex Luthor has their paintings, and we can't lose to him."

It was a fact that the youngest Wayne was a tad irritated by, if only he discovered the artist first, he would've paid double to make sure Lex wouldn't even dream of owning a painting from them.

"I don't get it," rambled Tim "are they even good? I've never even heard of them."

"That's because not many people has seen their work in person," Damian explained "most of the buzz is from old articles and post about art exhibit that they used to have. It's been over 2 years since the public last heard from them, and apparently Lex Luthor wouldn't shut up about having 2 paintings."

Damian got in the limousine, and the rest of the family followed.

"Besides," Damian continues "we need more paintings in the manor, it's starting to look empty."

The family arrived at the venue early, greeted with flashes and cheers for their attention. Damian was too focused on getting to see the paintings to join his family, Dick especially responding to the press oh so politely.

Damian has seen only one painting in person, it was one of Lex Luthor's prized possession. A beautiful urban landscape painting of a nighttime Metropolis, with building lights replacing the stars. It was a masterfully made painting, Damian didn't waste time throwing himself into research looking for clues on who the artist is and especially how he can get his hands on one of the paintings.

It was somehow nostalgic, but he can't quite put a finger on it.

Unfortunately by the time Damian has discovered them they've already hid from the public eye for a little over a year. No news of any exhibit, or gallery not even a single painting. Traces of them are only found through articles and post of long gone exhibits, all of it only displaying the artworks as if the artist themselves is hiding away from the limelight. Until of course now, receiving the invite for the auction felt like a last chance to the youngest Wayne.

Swan

It's the only name he found regarding the elusive artist, he assumes it's a last name. Unfortunately for him it's seems that no matter how early he came he won't be seeing the paintings any earlier than everyone else.

The auctioneer explained how the paintings would be revealed little by little to "grow with the artist" and the actual auction starts after all the paintings are revealed. Which isn't so bad, he'd have a chance to choose which paintings he wants before the auction. If only Tim would stop teasing him about arriving early that is.

"All that fuss for nothing." He said

"<tt>"

"It's not a bad idea to be early," Bruce interject "we have time to socialize and interact with the press before the auction."

"Besides the auction is starting in just 2 more minutes so we're not really that early" added Dick.

The auction-goers are then guided to what they could only call as a hallway with heavy red velvet curtains covering the way.

"Thank you all for your attendance here today," started the auctioneer "we will be starting the auction tour when these curtains are opened, you will be able to view the works like you would a museum and there will be attendants around that would happily answer questions regarding the paintings."

"We will be starting from Swan's earliest to their latest work, the deeper you go the latest the art are." They explained "As such, before we begin we would like to present their very first painting."

Another attendant wheeled in what they could assume as the painting covered by a sheet of white cloth.

"Ladies and gentlemen we proudly unveil, The last dance." They say as they pulled away the cloth

And there stood a decently size painting. On a blue gradient backdrop with smeared paint in various colors and over lapping marks of what seems to be the platform of pointe shoes, Damian could tell only one thing was painted using a paint brush. A silvery metallic ballerina posing in what he remembers is called attitude penché. The metallic paint would avoid the paint splatters leaving gaps, and also making the ballerina looked like it's covered in paint.

It was so evidently made by an amature, with irregular brush strokes and inconsistent line weights. However despite an incomplete tutu the ballerina herself was perfectly proportioned, the muscle of the legs and arms so anatomically accurate.

"I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't this." complained Tim amids the applause and cheer that the painting garnered

"Do you like this one Dami?" Dick asked

"It would be nice to have," Damian started "but it's too evident that it's their first painting, I'd rather get one of their later paintings."

"Although for a first painting it's not bad, they have a good understanding of anatomy." he continued.

Attendees were ushered into the next room, where landscape paintings of what seems to be an extravagant garden. Each painting from various different angles, but the same lonesome garden. Although each one better than the last some even showed significant improvement, perfectly showcasing an artist's growing talent and proficiency of their chosen profession it still gave the same lonely feeling of one looking out into a beautiful yet cold garden.

"Doesn't this looks like our garden?" commented Tim

Damian went to look at the said painting. "We don't have those flowers planted, but it does look similar."

"No I think we used to have them," chides Dick "Alfred changed them just before Tim arrived."

"It's weird." voiced Damian

"It wouldn't be so surprising," replied Bruce

"our garden is a sight to behold it was quite famous back then too I'm sure photos of it from old articles are still floating around."

"No not that," Damian went to inspect the paintings closer "It's expected to improve between paintings but these paintings are far too different from each other."

Damian went to look at another painting.

"It's like we're missing some paintings it would be normal usually, but they've only ever sold 2 paintings."

"Don't stress too much about it baby bird." Dick motioned to ruffle Damian's hair only for his hand to be swatted off which the eldest laughed about.

They eventually moved on, the further they go the less garden they see and slowly the subject of the paintings turned to Gotham streets. From peaceful crowded daytime Gotham to it's dark alleyways, until one caught Tim and Dick's attention.

It was a painting of them, well more so a painting of their alter egos. On a precarious ledge sat Red Robin and Nightwing together, many took a special liking to them saying it humanized Gotham's vigilantes.

"Well if they're such a big fan I might just get this one." Tim said amused

"It's a good painting" Damian chimed

"What? Jealous?" Tim teased

"Hardly," he said as he walked to another painting "I have my own."

He stopped at a painting of the current Robin, katana in hand in the streets of Gotham with only a lone street lamp illuminating them. Damian made a mental note of not letting this one go to someone else.

It seemed Swan had become some sort of a stalker, each painting they come across is of the local vigilantes. Of Red Hood in Crime Alley sitting on his bike with a cigarette on his hand, of Batman on a random roof with lightning scarring the night sky, of them fighting the rogue gallery in various places and angles. One painting showed a building with thick green smoke coming out of it and the Batman insignia in the night Gotham sky. The Waynes were enjoying themselves so to say. Until one painting made the Red Robin frown.

"Is your favorite artist a fan turned villain?" He asked as he stared at the decently sized painting of Red Hood, and although it was a beautifully detailed portrait the blood that pooled next to their head left a bitter taste in his mouth.

There's a splatter of blood near the head achieved by embroidering red yarn and thread into the canvas. Even made droplets of blood down their head by sewing red beads of various sizes into it. Red thread sewn onto the ripped parts of the painting.

"That's not the only one" said Bruce as he walked to the other paintings.

Similarly sized and beautifuly detailed was of Robin, a tear onto his cheek sewed shut with red thread, blood running down his nose and dripping down his chin by tiny flower embroidery turning into beads making it look like the blood is escaping the canvas. The one of Red Robin was missing an eye and dripping blood-like beads. While Batman had a hole on his chest where his heart is supposed to be, from the hole red ribbons spilled out of the canvas and frame and some onto the floor.

"Geez baby bird you sure they're not one of your villains?" Said the eldest

"You sure they're not yours?" Retort Damian as Dick went to turn to the painting they were looking at.

Bigger and more carefully painted than the rest was of Nightwing, each stroke and detail almost lovingly painted if not for the fact that there's a big tear across the entire painting. A tear from one end of the painting across the neck and to the other end took a chunk of the painting, it on itself being held together by a sloppily sewn red yarn. The destruction continued as more red thread was sewn onto the canvas and a red spray paint of LIAR across his face.

"Sounds a bit too personal."

"Should I be worried?"

More paintings of them followed a morbid pattern, a whole garden of flowers and spraypainted on a gravestone was Nightwing's insignia. A skull in an alley dumpster with a batarang imbedded into it, a broken katana in the ground with maggots, a shattered red hood helmet with flowers growing on them contrasting the painting of wilted flowers on a coffee mug, and so on.

One painting broke the continuesly morbid and honestly depressing (not to mention a tad too personal) display, another portrait but this time it's not a vigilante, it's a painting of a woman with the same color skin as your mother and the same color and texture of your mother's hair. However in place of the face was a shattered mirror, features were distorted and ones like your eyes were doubled. Bruce wondered where he had seen those eyes before. He looked at the name of the painting. "Ugly Duckling" it simply said.

This painting was followed by yet another beautiful urban landscape painting, but this time of a daytime Gotham. Many showed interest as it showed "Pride for the City" they said as if the painting wasn't titled "Kiss Goodbye".

It seemed that it was the last painting Swan made of Gotham as the next few paintings were of Metropolis. Other than a painting made to look like a movie poster, where it showed a woman barely anyone would recognized without the wig and flashy clothes. Bruce should've looked closer when a nagging voice in his head started pulling at his attention, instead he walked away in favor of looking at the other paintings, oh if only he had looked at the plaque he would've seen the painting was titled "Mother" maybe then it would've jogged his memories better.

Eventually the paintings of Metropolis stopped in favor of another garden, this time much humbler than the first few paintings, but it was warmer, less lonely. Instead of looking out onto a lonely garden, scenes of warm picnics and tea parties painted with sunlight escaping between leaves raining down onto the garden greeted them.

Similar paintings followed of a humble quiet house in the countryside, of tranquil happy memories or a mundane everyday life.

"Here moving forward are the works made in the years that we haven't heard from them," started the auctioneer "so for the first time ever we would like to present Swan's Flower Collection." They pulled away red velvet curtains to reveal a new room, and what a flower collection indeed.

Instead of painted portraits all the framed portraits are made with pressed flowers, and as they go down the corridor pressed flowers become flowers preserved in resin making the portraits leave their respective frame, some even having hands and even full arms leave the frames.

Until eventually the frames where thrown away in favor of full floral sculptures of teapots, of swans, of little ballet shoes. But one set of sculptures is getting everyones attention.

A bust sculpture of all the members of the bat family made of flowers were lined up, as if they come as a little set, as if they belong together.

Each one having white tulips oleander and autumn crocus. Black hellebore and black tulip made up their hair.

Only Batman's bust however had oak leaf decorations going down it's pedestal, the rest had ivy and chrysanthemum.

"We will now be unveiling the last piece," they said as they guided the auction-goers into a covered sculpture, by the curtains length they could already tell that this is their biggest sculpture in the entire collection "we happily present Swan."

They revealed a life size sculpture of a woman, the tops of her head were of pink carnation, going down and blending into hydrangea and yellow roses making up the face. While down their ear to the neck consist of lily, poppies, and hyacinths, and iris, daisy, dandelion, buttercup, and bluebells run down to it's chest. From below the chest to the hips is made up of cyclamen, and snapdragons, while magnolia and snow drops run down to the legs. Hibiscus and lily of the valley made up the knees onto the feet, next the train of the dress made from primrose and peonies and lastly a cluster of forget me not.

Many whispered and clamored, about getting that specific sculpture meanwhile Bruce Wayne himself is slowly spiralling. The nagging voice in his head that begged for his attention now unbearable as the beat of his heart race.

"We will be playing a message from Swan herself to start the auction" they announced as a video was played.

In the background the beep of hospital machines continue as you start to speak "Thank you all for all your support and time," you said as Bruce Wayne's hand started shaking and Dick's eyes widened.

"(Name)?" Dick said catching the attention of the younger ones. They knew the name, but it was hard to put a face to it.

They stared at your emaciated image as you cough with a weak smile, they couldn't say they don't recognize you when they didn't know your face in the first place.

"We will be starting the auction soon, but before that I would like to give a little message to my father who I'm sure is in this auction right now, I made sure of it."

You cough more violently than the last.

"From the ballet shoes you bought to the paint brushes I broke, all of it would be paid by the earnings of this auction." You said followed by the applause of the auction-goers while your family start to panic "If I can't have your love I'll try to buy your time instead, please just this once grant me some of your time to say goodbye to your daughter in her wake."

Gasp were heard because of the revelation as the Waynes start to spiral, the situation sinking in while the auctioneer starts, Damian is too busy trying to breathe to realize the auction started when Bruce spoke up.

"I'll buy it, all of it no matter how much!" your father exclaimed panicking which resulted to various reactions from the other auction-goers. Ahh yes the press would surely love this tomorrow, but Bruce Wayne didn't have enough time to care nor worry about that now. Just like how he used to not have time to worry about little old you.

He had to leave he had to go see his daughter. He had to see for himself if it was true.

Bruce walked desperately out of the venue his children too busy trying to get their bearings to follow, but before he left the premises, before he got to his vehicle and away from here, a staff had called him.

In an empty hallway away from everyone a staff handed him an envelope, which he accepted with shaking sweaty hands, and with no explanation on what it was they left.

Bruce almost didn't want to open it, but he needs to, He HAD TO.

In shaky unfamiliar handwriting was an address, and he didn't have to be the world's best detective to guess what it was for.

Finally the rest of his family catches up to him as he stand there, with shaking hands and starring at the address.

"B this can't be true," said a panicking Dick "this has to be some sort of prank."

"Yea like another trick to get our attention," added Tim "she does that, remember?"

"When did you last see her?"

Everyone turned to Damian almost stunned.

"Do you-- do you know when she was last at the mansion?"

Silence fell between them.

"...I don't know." Bruce admitted

Damian swears his heart skipped so many beats that it might as well stop, as the situation finally sinks in.

You're gone.

Wordlessly they all run back to their limousine, panicking and desperate.

Bruce himself was behind the wheel, speeding and running a red light or two, but he didn't care. Right now, for the first time in forever he only has one thing in mind. You.

They eventually arrive, you made sure that it wasn't too far from the event. Bruce run passed the decorations you organized as his heart thundered in his chest, past the people you invited, to the coffin you had made. He stared down at you. His daughter laying in the flowers you arranged and the clothes you picked out.

Your cold, emaciated corpse was hauntingly serene as if you weren't actually dead, just sleeping, taking a little nap in this cursed flower filled coffin on yours. But all Bruce can think about is how he couldn't believe how much you'd grown since he last saw you.

The realisation of this finality hit your family hard, Dick was the first to cry.

Bruce clenched his fists, his eyes fixed on your coffin. Damian is shaking as his eyes starts to blur not quite knowing what to do.

And Tim, oh dear Tim wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon.

Dick's mind races through the few memories of you. He recalled the way small little you would try to get his attention the rare times he'd visit. You'll make little blue bracelets for him, ones he'd forget to even bring back. He should've visited more the way he did for Damian, should've treasured every gift you made for him.

All Tim could think about was the way he'd dismiss you, how he'd push you away and call you boring, how he ignored you when you bring him coffee or check up on him.

Damian was the worse out of all of them. He only had one memory of you, his one and only sister by blood. He remembers you enthusiastically introducing yourself, and he remembers pushing you down the stairs you met in. He remembered how everyone made sure you two won't be interacting anytime soon because of that.

While Bruce steps back watching his family fall apart. He had no one to blame but himself, all of this was the result of his absence, his neglect, and his failures as a father.

"I didn't know Miss (surname) was acquainted with the Waynes."

Only Bruce turned, his children too busy crowding your coffin to pay attention. There stand Lex Luthor. Wait--(surname)? Wasn't that your mother's surname, were you so hurt that you threw away the Wayne name?

"It such a shame," Lex said "so much talent gone just like that."

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows, he has heard from Damian that Lex Luthor had sponsored you, were you close enough to invite him?

"How long have you been here?"

"Just an hour, but the wake would last 3 days, apparently she wanted to make sure her father comes." Replied Lex

The realization made Bruce sick. Lex Luthor was here before him. Lex knew about the funeral of HIS own daughter before HIM. Lex Luthor of all people was in his daughter's funeral while he was wasting time somewhere else when he should've been here with HER.

Oh the irony didn't escape him.

Bruce Wayne had to cover his mouth as a shaky breath escaped him. He then buried his face on his hands as his heart races trying to calm himself. Shaking hands combed back his hair as he face Lex.

"Thank you for coming, but we'll be ending the wake early." He said as he walks toward your coffin.

"Wait-- what?" Lex follow behind "Surely you understand how rude it would be---WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

Bruce has brushed aside his children to come pick up your corpse. For the first time in his life, your father held you in his arms. Your body was cold and light, as if all the life had been drained from it.

Lex had grabbed his arm "Mr. Wayne please put her down this is disrespectful to everyone here especially to her."

"Let go."

"Do you think you can just---"

"I need to bring my daughter home!"

The revelation rang across the whole room, Lex Luthor was shocked as he stared at a now crying Bruce Wayne. All he can do is slowly let go of his arm. Bruce didn't waste time walking out of the venue his children following behind.

Your father held your icy body close to him, gently yet tightly against him, your body stealing the warmth of his, only for it to vanish into nowhere. The heavy yet hollow anguish in his chest was hard to articulate, yet that wasn’t as important as bringing your head closer to lay a kiss on your temple, the first one he’d given you since you were born. Bruce kept your head there to lay his forehead against yours as if trying to find a glimpse of connection that has rotted by years of absence. No amount of tears that silently flowed down his eyes onto your cheeks would lessen the weight of regret and guilt in his heart.

Apologies would spill out of his mouth about how he failed you as a father, how he should’ve been there for you, watching you grow, holding your hand while it was still small and warm. How he should’ve loved you properly, how he should’ve —; he couldn’t continue, it hurts too much.

He wanted to say more, to open up his chest and spill everything onto you, to convey his regret and the love he had never been able to give you. But words seemed inadequate today, almost insignificant in the face of your dead body.

Words simply couldn’t undo the years of neglect, his indifference, and his lack of affection towards you, his only daughter; his apologies alone couldn’t bring you back. When words fail you, action spoke louder. And in his case, his actions, or rather his inaction, didn't speak but screamed.

He finally reached the limousine; he set you down on one of the seats, buckling you up; he sat by your feet, staring at you with remorseful eyes as if he was trying to carve the image of you into his brain, as if trying to make sure he’ll never forget about you again. His hand reached for your face, caressing your frigid cheek; his touch that used to be fleeting now lingered.

Your father’s hand would move to your hand, holding it tightly, treating it as if it were sand that would somehow slip away from him and be lost forever. Reality was cruel and unyielding. He has already lost you, and all he is left with is regrets and guilt.

It wasn't until his other children started to get on the limo did he decide to leave, with Dick and Damian sitting beside you while Tim sat across you.

You would never know how Jason would come home almost losing his mind that night after Tim called him to tell him the news.

Never know how he'd grab Bruce's lapels as he scream to him about how he could let this happen again.

You would never know how Tim would lose sleep looking for every trace of you that was left out there.

You would never know how Dick would bring your hand to his face laying a kiss on your palms as he cried endless apologize against it.

You would never know how Damian your one and only younger brother, would spill tears down your face as he held it with both hands begging his sister to come back.

But it was all too late,

Far too late.

@yuumaofc @crotchgoblin69 @demis2955 @zhentheraven @m00narca @stupidlyunhinged @venomsvl @lovebug-apple @ghostlyworld

Taglist: (it's my first time doing a taglist hope I did it right)

[hwangyeddeongie]

shaming people for donating THEIR ADULT MONEY to ao3 (an ad-free, censorship-free site with over 14 MILLION works) so you can feel better about yourself is not the flex you think it is. much less if the "charities" you want people to support instead are unverified Gaza gofundme scams

[thebibliosphere]

My dad was a bit of a tearaway growing up. He still would be if it weren't for the advancing arthritis and my mother holding him back by his shirt collar for the last 50 years.

They both grew up in the slums of post-WW2 Glasgow. My mother talks about living in damp, mold-ridden basement flats and her mother owning multiple cats to keep down on the rats, while my father likes to recount how he grew up every night looking at the stars... through the hole in the roof.

He was also best friends with my mother's brother, which was how they met at the tender ages of 9 and 11 and got married ten years later. But before that, my dad was in a gang. They'd cut about the back streets with skinned knees, hand-me-down bikes rattling over cobblestone streets away from the polis. Mucky boots full of holes thudding over the tin roofs of the outhouses as they hopped the walls to avoid getting caught smoking—a habit my father laments he picked up at age 11 and has never been able to shake.

One time, in his mid-teens, my dad saw another boy getting the shit kicked out of him. Not an unusual site in that part of Glasgow back then, especially when the football was on and the bars spilled out into the streets with the drunken malevolence of festering religious bigotry that still, sadly, prevails to this day. But this was no honest scuffle. This was five to one, ten to one, depending on Dad's mood when he tells the story. And for all he was a scruffy wee toe rag who was no better than he ought to be, my dad had a firm sense of fairness, and the fight in front of him was not fair. So he jumped in and started battering the fuck out of people.

It's worth noting that my dad and I share many traits. Our humor, our love of words, and most notably, our height. My dad is 5ft 2 on a good day, 5'3" at a literal stretch. It earned him the nickname "wee barra," a name that's stuck to this day, even as my father shrinks with age and begins to resemble a Norman Rockwell-esque grandpa: silver-haired, red-faced with a smile that makes you think of Christmas.

Anyway, turns out the boy he rescued was the son of a reasonably well-known crime lord. The kind of mad cunt who'd give you a Glasgow Smile if you cut in front of him at the post office but who also donated to charity, loved his kids, and could be very kind and generous to a boy in over his head who saw an unfair fight and moved in to break it up.

I wouldn't say they became friends. More acquaintances you could nod at in the street. And when the time came for my dad to get down on bended knee and ask my Mum to marry him, that passing familiarity meant they got a discounted price at a local pub venue to host the wedding festivities. All proper posh and swanky. Or as posh and proper as a pub in the 70s could be.

Sadly, in the literal weeks running up to their wedding, my Mum's father grew sick and died. Lung cancer. It'd been eating away at him for years, and nobody knew. So while my mother sat by her father's deathbed, nursing him to the end, my father had to reschedule their wedding and help plan for a funeral instead. It was with no small trepidation he showed up at the pub and was led into a back room to say, "er, very sorry, but, er, we won't be going ahead with the wedding, er, would you mind waiting for the rest of your money... please?"

And this crime lord, this terrifying figure of a man, humphed and grumped and said, "very sorry to hear that, lad. Did things just not work out?"

So my dad explained about his future father-in-law, the funeral, and needing to help look after his future mother-in-law, and he recounts how the room got very still and quiet, and after a pause, this monster of a man renowned for violence turned toward the safe behind him, reached in and pulled out an envelope—the one my father had written "wedding deposit" on—and handed it back to him.

"Away and take care of your family, son," was apparently all he said, and my dad, clutching the envelope to his chest, nodded, said thank you about a million times, then legged it out the door.

I remember thinking the first time I heard this story, probably about the age of 9 or 10, still fully entrenched in the moral parables being taught to me every Sunday in a dusty church basement, that there was some higher moral to impart. Like how even the most monstrous of men could be capable of kindness and good and redemption. Upon voicing this, my dad laughed so hard that he inhaled his cigarette.

"Christ, no. Don't be daft," he said, between hacking coughs. "The lesson is don't owe money to the fucking mafia."

Anyway, that's the man who taught me right from wrong and how to read, write, and tell stories. It should probably help explain some things.

And today, we found out the cigarettes finally caught up with him. Lung cancer. We don't know what stage yet. He says he can breathe just fine, which is funny because I feel like I'm suffocating.

I don't know what to do.

But at least I don't need to tell a crime lord I can't pay him the rest of his money. Small mercies.

[trainsinanime]

I wonder: Do Americans know about american school buses? Not their existence in general, but how they're seen overseas.

Over here, they're one of the symbols of America, on par with the Statue of Liberty, the flag, the Eagle, and well ahead of any chain restaurant you can name. People won't know any US states, but they will know these vehicles.

The thing is, here in Germany, we don't have dedicated school buses. The general idea is that kids go to school on their own. When that's not practical, they're expected to use (and given free tickets for) public transit. Public transit is designed around this requirement; there are many places where there is a bus, and anyone can get on it, but the route and timetable really only makes sense for school children. In case a dedicated school bus is really needed, that's generally subcontracted out, and the lines either use something like a Sprinter Van for smaller routes, or a normal city or interurban bus (often a used one that's a bit older). School trips are normal public transit, or a rented bus, typically a coach or regional bus.

It's not a perfect system, in the past couple of years there's been an epidemic of people bringing their kids to school in their cars instead of letting them walk, which is less than ideal. It is what it is. But building a dedicated network of public transit lines only for students, and building dedicated vehicles only for that, has never occurred to anyone here.

Of course we know about these buses, from movies and such, but they're as foreign here as cacti or pick-up trucks (actually we're seeing more and more of these here) or yellow cabs (all europeans will assume all cabs in the US are yellow until they actually visit).

You do see these buses here at times, because people still generally like the idea of the US, even if they have a lot of issues with a lot of details, and so folks bring them over, along with stretch limos and stuff (also not really a thing here). And of course, if someone goes to all that trouble, they don't do it to haul school kids, they rent it out for city tours or as a party bus or whatever.

So you see these yellow things as a symbol of faraway places, scenic vistas, some vague undefined idea of freedom that doesn't necessarily hold up to any contact with reality, and it's just a huge part of the whole US aesthetic.

And then you go to a student exchange with the US, and you finally get the chance: You yourself get to ride in one of these iconic chrome yellow buses! It looks just like in the movies! You get in, you drive in them a little…

…and you realise they're shit. Just the worst buses in the western world. Terrible suspension. Uncomfortable seats with weirdly high backs (so they don't have to put seatbelts in, they just restrict how far kids can fly in an accident). Everything made out of the cheapest materials. Turns out the reason why the US uses school buses like that instead of normal modern city buses, which the US has, is to save money and because they just hate kids.

And then it hits you why US Americans say "as American as apple pie", a dish that is made and enjoyed literally anywhere in the world, instead of "as American as yellow school buses". Of course the Americans already knew all this. They got tortured by these things forever. It would never occur to them to see this as a symbol of America, it's just a normal part of life for them. It's a symbol of school and school life and sometimes normalcy, and tells us that these actors getting out of it are supposed to be teenagers, nothing more.

But most people in Europe have, of course, never ridden on these buses. So when they see them in movies and TV, that's a giant big yellow signifier that we're not in Hessen or Wallonia or wherever anymore. A symbol of a different world, one that may be at most a once-in-a-lifetime-experience for most people, just like a picture of a tropical beach, Mayan Pyramids, the Great Wall of China, or Hildesheim (there's no reason to go there twice). And I think Americans don't know that, and that's fascinating.

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug Like Angel

pt1

Lonesome Love

You're about a year old when you're dropped off at the manor by your mother, along with your birth certificate and important papers.

She never truly cared for you, so she just left. She couldn't care if she wanted to, she could barely afford you. You sometimes wonder how life would've been if she stayed and cared and hadn't dropped you off at your father's.

Bruce didn't believe he was your actual father, he thought it was someone trying to get money from him.

After some DNA tests, it was confirmed. You were his kid.

Ever since you were little, like most babies, you needed attention.

Unfortunately in a household like this, you believe you won't ever get what you want.

Your father, Bruce Wayne, never had time for you. Always on a mission.

You would try and come up to him and talk to him and try and get him to do stuff with you, like listening to music or anything, you wouldn't mind doing anything as long as it was with your father.

You tried to read fancy newspapers you didn't understand infront of Bruce to get his attention and make yourself look smarter than you are.

All he does is walk away

Tagging along behind him was Richard "Dick" Grayson. Who was supposed to be like an older brother to you.

You would always go up to him and show off, trying to look cool to him or talk to him in general.

It never really worked.

You joined gymnastics when you were 6 in the hopes of getting Dick to talk to you.

All he does is give you a "Good job birdie!" with a ruffle of your hair which you won't complain about since that's the most he's paid attention to you since you got here.

Alfred was the only one you saw and had actual conversations with. He wasn't around as often as he would like to, but he tried his best..!

You would try and join him in baking only for you to mess it up. You thought he would shoo you away but he taught you how to do it well! He wasn't always with you though, he had to go and help your father on his missions.

You feel like you shouldn't complain about the little to no amount of love. You could technically buy anything you wish for You can afford anything you want!

All the fancy clothes and all the toys you wanted! Even your room was huge!You try and stay positive through everything, everything gonna be fine.

When you were 7 years old, Jason Todd was brought into the manor.

You half expected him to brush you off like Dick and Bruce, but to your surprise, he interacted with you!

Despite the 4-year age difference, he and you were inseparable.

He read to you every night, he listened to whatever you said, even if it didn't make sense, he would play whatever with you, and he would even take you out for walks!

He told you all about his school and despite some of the complaints he had, you wanted to go to a real school so badly!

You wanted friends! You wanted to talk to others! After being homeschooled your whole life, you begged your father to please let you go to public school.

...He said no.

You were so sad! why won't he just let you go? After months and months of begging, he finally let you go to private school!

The uniform was itchy and stupid-looking and the people there were kinda rude but still! School!!

After a week or two, you were extremely popular due to your bubbly personality and your being a social butterfly!

You had so many friends, everyone at school liked you being high energy! You loved your elementary school! You were pretty smart too, you had passing grades without even trying! Even if it technically is just an addition...

You were popular with students and teachers! Everyone wanted to play tag with you and race you to the swings and hang on the monkey bars with you and-

Everything was just perfect!

Until it wasn't.

You were 9 when Jason Todd was killed by the Joker.

You sobbed when you realized he wasn't coming back. You hated the Joker. You couldn't understand why.

Why would he do that?whywhywhywhywhyehywhywhywhywhywhywhywh

You don't have anyone to help you. Sure your friends at school exist but they wouldn't understand, you're all children, and most of them have gone through similar things. They wouldnt care.

You cried and threw up so many times.

You just wanted your brother back.

You wanted him to read you a story one more time. To talk to you one more time. To play with him one more time. To see him one more time. justonemoretimepleasepleasepleaseplease

You stopped going to school for a while to mourn. It was 3 weeks before you came back.

You were 11 years old when a new robin was introduced

Tim Drake

You tried to talk to him, you did! It's just that he looked so mad whenever you tried to talk to him like you were interrupting even while just existing.

So you stopped. He made you so mad, what made him think he could just take over Jason's legacy?!

You both avoided each other like the plague. There isn't much to be said, other than how you wish you guys could get along.

You're 12 when Jason's back. He's now also avoiding you. You don't understand why. You guys were so close, what happened?

You didn't understand, you've tried so hard for all of them, so why couldn't they just see you for once?

You're done.

You can't do this anymore.

They took Damian in with open arms. Dick got close to him immediately. It feels like everywhere you look they're all together, as a family. You're so sad. You're so mad. You're so tired.

They never cared for you. You tried so hard for them. Perfect grades, multiple hobbies you hate besides one, but it's the one thing you can't get done correctly. Electric guitar.

You're done.

hi guys its me again this is highkey buns but like idk

idk when the next chapter is cominf out isigh BUTBUTBUT im still getting used to this so hi

[cy-cyborg]

Hey, able-bodied folks, if a disabled person is complaining about something being unfair/inaccessible because of our disabilities, you know you don't have to explain to us why that unfairness/inaccessibility a thing, right? Chances are we know it is the way it is. It's still unfair and we still want to talk about it.

I saw a video by an amputee warning other disabled people not to go to Thorpe Park in England, as they paid full price to enter, but were only allowed on 3 rides due to their amputation. This is something I also experienced when I went to the Gold Coast (mostly at Movie World, Wet n' Wild and, to a lesser extent, Dreamworld) and at Lunar Park in Sydney. There were also several others in the comments talking about similar experiences elsewhere.

But among these comments were dozens of people saying, "it's for health and safety reasons! The ride won't be able to hold you in!" And like... yeah, we know why. It doesn't make it any less unfair that we pay the same as you for a fraction of the experience. It doesn't make it feel any less shitty when you scrimp and save to do something like go to a theme park only to have to sit on the side line and watch your friends/family have fun without you. It doesn't make it any less scummy that there's very little warning that this will be the case (most of the time) until you arrive. It doesn't make it any less frustrating that so many recreational and fun activities don't even consider the possibility that disabled people would want to join in.

It's not just this video. It happens a lot. Any time someone complains about inaccessibility, there's always someone there trying to explain why the inaccessibility is there.

A resteraunt or shop isn't accessible? "Have you considered the person just didn't know/didn't have the money to fix it/were renting and weren't allowed to fix it?"

You called to see if some place was accessible, were told it was but when you arrive, it's not? "Have you considered the person didnt actually know/ thought it was and just made a mistake?"

You complain that a device/item/furniture item you bought isn't usable because of your disability despite there being no indication this would be the case before you bought it/no way to further verify it before hand? "Have you considered that disabled people make up such a small minority of their buyers they just didn't realise?"

Yeah, we know. Every single one. We considered it. a lot more than you did, i promise. We know why. We know sometimes mistakes happen, people don't think to consider us, there could be health and safety reasons for the lack of access, that people just don't know, and that it's not usually maliciousness or intentional ableism. I promise, we know all of it. We still need to talk about it though, so things can get better.

[leighsartworks216]

Thinking about apartment neighbor Sylus who's still a crime boss and everything. Comes home hiding bullet wounds, soundproofs his place so nobody hears the calls he makes, etc

You happen to catch him coming home one morning and greet him. You're friendly with all the neighbors, but you always seem to miss him when you've tried introducing yourself before. Tell him to wait one second as you run back inside. He stands there waiting, holding a hand to his side underneath his jacket, interested if not a bit wary. You come out with a jar of handmade jam as a gift. It's a simple mason jar but it's got a little ribbon tied around the lid with a handmade tag that says what kind of fruit's in it. He thanks you, you dash off to get to work, and he heads inside, setting it on the kitchen counter as he heads to the bathroom to clean up

Comes by it later. Smells it - smells just as jam should, sweet and fragrant. Tests it for any poisons or hidden substances, but finds nothing at all unusual. When he finally trusts it enough, he grabs a spoon and tries some of it... And oh my god he's in love. He's used to luxury, used to buying from people who have perfected their crafts and work hard to make their products perfect, but even he couldn't buy something this good from the greatest jam-maker in the world

He starts to make it a point to learn your schedule, to be coming or going at the same times you do, so you can have those "chance" encounters in the hall. He earnestly compliments your jam, and asks if he could buy some more. You're so glad he loves it so much! You tell him he can just have more, you don't need his money. But that doesn't mean he won't try to pay you back in other ways

During one of your chats, you complain about your oven being on the fritz and how the landlord refuses to fix it unless it's absolutely no longer functional. The next day, you're hearing back from the landlord about a replacement oven being there in the next couple days. You bake Sylus a pie with your special jam to celebrate, unaware that it was his "influence" that made it happen

You're having guests over and are short on an ingredient, so you ask him for some. He's not only giving you what you need (plus extra), he's helping you cook so you can have everything ready in time. The decor is so "you" it makes his chest ache. And watching you get into your element while still joking and having fun, oh lord the things he would do for you

You come home soaking wet and - for the first time ever since he's known you - on the verge of a breakdown. He insists you get inside, take a shower, get into some comfy pjs, and come back over to his place when you're done. When you do, he's already prepared an expansive dinner that he insists you take leftovers of if you enjoyed it. Provides a listening ear and any advice if you're looking for it, and encourages you to reach out if you ever need to

You find him slumped on his doorstep one day, covered in blood and face screwed up in pain. You panic, about to call an ambulance, when he grabs your wrist and ends the call. He's the levelheaded one, calming you down even as he's in pain, as you flounder to try helping him as best as you can. You help him up and into your apartment, hobbling through to the bathroom where he sits down heavily on the toilet lid. Your medical kit isn't as extensive as his, but he makes do, prepared to deal with it all himself. And while he does certainly do the most gory bits, you insist on helping him bandage his wounds and giving him pain killers. He lets you think he got jumped by some gangsters, roughed up and mugged, when that's nowhere near the truth. You feed him and let him sleep on your couch for the rest of the day to keep an eye on him while he recovers

Except one day, you actually do get cornered by some gangsters trying to rob you. You're terrified, begging them not to hurt you as your shaking hands struggle to retrieve your wallet. Who else but Sylus would come to your rescue, dealing with them so efficiently you have to wonder how they got him so bad before. When they run off, he checks on you, and you collapse into his chest crying out your fear, clutching to his shirt and trying to stop shaking. He shushes you gently, assures you you're safe, he's there, one hand cradling the back of your head as he keeps you close to him until you're okay enough to come back home

And then you kiss idk I just love this trope lmao

[ceilingfannnnn]

𝐁𝐨𝐛 𝐑𝐞𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬

Warning: NSFW +18 subby-ish! Bob, oral (m/f receiving), P in V sex, riding (save a horse, ride a Bob), oral fixation, cunnilingus (if you squint), past drug addiction, recovering, mentions of horrible past sexual experience, Bob is emotionally fragile

someone asked for Bob Reynolds bedroom /sex hcs but I can't find the post so here you go ig. This is what I think Bob would be in bed, also my first time making hcs. Some may not be accurate or already mentioned by other people.

۶ৎ𓂃 Bob is the type of person to have something in his mouth all the TIME. Like you were just riding his cock and you would put your fingers in his mouth, digits soaked with his spit and your cum (bc he ate you out beforehand)

۶ৎ𓂃 He is very careful with his strength, sure he can last for 5 hours because of his endless stamina but he reminds himself everytime that he needs to be careful because of you. So he always asks; "is this okay?"

۶ৎ𓂃 No gag reflexes. You're even surprised that he got no gag reflexes when you slips two fingers in his mouth. He doesn't want to tell you about the blow jobs in back alleys, in seedy toilets and motels just to get drug money back then.

۶ৎ𓂃 He is fragile in some areas as a recovering drug addict with torn self-esteem. He is emotionally vulnerable so sexual fears and insecurities is still present there and you are the one to break those walls down.

۶ৎ𓂃 This man runs HOT, I mean literally- his body temperature resembles as your personal heater so you two more often cuddle naked under the sheets.

۶ৎ𓂃 You're his first GOOD sexual experience in a looooooong time. His past sexual encounters was only the cause of drug induced haze in result, he didn't know or how good it felt. Maybe waking up in a motel or somewhere in a ditch with no recollection of what just happened.

۶ৎ𓂃 in span of first six months in A tower, you two took things SLOWLY. You helped him to concentrate on building self-confidence and self-image before you build your sex life with him. Because in the past, he got erratic sex life, hell- not even a real serious and genuine relationship.

۶ৎ𓂃 although he is built like a Roman god when he got his powers, he still needs to build self confidence (remember when he started fiddling his fingers when Ava mentioned his hair? yeah) so you always take the lead to take off his clothes kissing parts of his shoulder, chest down to his pecs making him feel appreciated and cherished.

۶ৎ𓂃 plus the praises, but sometimes you inflates his ego too much. Sentry joins the chat. His eyes glow and he would take the lead. Finding yourself cheek pressed against the mattress with your ass up, his cock pounding into your sore pussy while he tells you how much he loves you praising him.

۶ৎ𓂃 Cock worship. That's it.

Just kidding-

You were SAT giving this man a best oral of his life because you wanted him to feel appreciated, right? Sure some women probably given him a head or two but because he was fucking high out of his mind, he didn't remember if it felt good. But when it comes to your skillful mouth, he knew he's in heaven.

"Oh ah fuck- baby please I'm not gonna last-" He moans trying not to thrust his hips up and fuck his cock in your mouth. The fat tip of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat as you bobbed your head causing those sloppy wet sounds of your mouth, your free hand gently fondling his balls, your eyes remained on him. Your pussy clenching by just watching his reaction.

۶ৎ𓂃 He can be a service top, he spent most of his time staying indoors so expect that he will do something for you, cooking, massaging, doing the laundry for you and especially when it comes to sex, he still needs some progress but he was getting there to be a better boyfriend for you.

۶ৎ𓂃 like after missions, he would strip you naked and massage your back with his oiled up veiny hands until you moans on how good it felt. And he will not stop there, he won't miss a chance seeing you naked on his bed so he would put you on your knees, parting your legs to slip his tongue to your soaking wet slit goes to your tight hole. He won't let you leave the bed unsatisfied.

This ho got a lot of time to edit cute shit TYSM for reading 🫶

[darklucielle]

'Innocent' Massage

Red Velvet Joy x M Manager POV

Tags: Gentle Dominant, Fingering, Oral, Creampie, Cowgirl

I came to Joy's condo to discuss some things about her upcoming schedules. Such as magazine photoshoot, Interviews and the scheduled table read for a Netflix korea series.

I entered the passcode and went inside.

"Joy. We need to discuss some things about your upcoming schedules." I looked up from my papers and froze as I saw Joy sitting down on her hundred thousand dollar sofa chair. The only thing that I am surprised is she's only wearing a wrap white dress. Her bare feet and thighs are exposed. The absence of her underwear is obvious.

"So... Are we going to discuss my schedules or letting you ogling at me?" She giggled. I snapped back and cleared my throat to compose myself.

"Sorry.. It was just unexpected to see you wearing nothing down below."

She smiled. That smile is totally familiar to me. Ever since I got a job as her manager, I couldn't believe that she's a flirt and shameless. She keeps teasing me with dirty innuendos and flirty touches.

"Well... This is my home so I can be practically naked like today." She stretches her arms that caused her dress ride up. Slowly exposed more skin to my sight.

"Why not give me a massage while I'm reviewing the drama script? There's a massage oil at the shelf." She ordered.

I don't have a choice but to obey. This job gives me enough money to survive in this fucked up economy. My friends are jealous because I got to work alongside with a popular celebrity.

I grabbed the massage oil that she wanted then went back to her. She's currently reviewing the script for her netflix korean series project.

"Massage my feet and thighs. It became sore after I jog this morning. I think I took it far than usual." She explained while still looking at the script.

"Fine.. Fine.. Whatever you say so." I opened the cap of massage oil and pours an appropriate amount at my hands then I started to massage her heels all the way to her toes and back.

"It's been a month since you became my manager. Are you happy working for me?"

Her question made me froze. Happy? I guess so. Despite how hetic her schedule most of the times, seeing the work gets clearly done without problems makes me feel good. It's hard but worth it. Work is usually hard anyways.

"So far... Yeah. I'm happy to work for you. It's people's fantasy of working with her favorite celebrity. I'm practically living their dream."

My response made her laugh. "True. It's just like me ages ago when I was dreaming to become a popular celebrity and here I am. Living my own dream."

"Of course, You can easily achieved your dream because you are talented, pretty and hardworking woman. You're the men's dream girl."

"That's the fact. I couldn't even count how many men trying to court me but I keep rejecting them. I'm just a woman who prioritized my career before anything else."

"That's great thing tho. Sometimes, A celebrity relationship won't work at all. It's better to prioritize yourself first."

She nodded solemnly. I remember her and that soloist guy broke up after two years and that break up shocked the whole nation.

"Speaking of relationship. Have you ever been into one?"

I stopped massaging her legs then shyly shakes my head. "Honestly.. I don't have any. I'm scared of rejection so I don't confessed my feelings to the girls that I like."

"Oh really? That's pretty sad. You don't know that maybe one of your crushes is actually likes you too."

"I hope so... For now, Work is my priority."

"Speaking of crushes. Do you have a celebrity crush? Don't be shy. Be honest."

"My... Celebrity crush?" I looked at her then shyly looks down. Continues my massage despite the blush on my cheeks. "Actually... It's you, Joy."

She gasped out loud. As if she didn't expected my answer at all.

"Really? Is it me? Oh my gosh! Look at you, you're blushing hard. So cute!"

"Can you just stop teasing me and just... review the script."

"Fine.. fine... Atleast you're living the men's dream afterall. Massage my thighs as well. I love the feeling of your hands on my skin."

I blinked at her words. There's another hidden innuendo on it. I gulped hard before I proceed to massage her thighs slowly and gently.

"Hmmm~~ That's nice. Keep doing it."

Continues to massage her lower thighs. She lets out a series of gasps and moans as she still reviewing the script.

"Go higher."

I obliged. My oil coated hands went upwards slowly. I tried my best to keep my own arousal hidden as possible. My cock is fully erect and straining against my pants.

"Much higher."

"But..."

"No buts. Just do it."

Hestitantly went higher than appropriate. My hands are now at her inner thighs. At this point, I learned that Joy doesn't really wear her panties today. Practically naked she said.

My fingertips brushed against her most intimate part. That made her head threw aback. She spread her thighs apart.

"More... More touches like that..."

"I.. I don't think this is appropriate, Joy."

She shoots me an angry stare. Clearly disappointed of my hestitation. She reached out and grabs my collar to pull me towards to her.

"I fucking know that. I'm your fucking client and you're supposed to be doing what a client wants. Right now, All I want is your damn fingers on me."

I nodded. "Yes, Joy. I'll do what you want."

She plops back on her chair. "Good. Make it nice and slow right there. Insert your fingers at my cue."

"Understood."

I continued massaging her there. My thumbs courageously rubs her clit. It's wet and warm. I never thought this is that soft. I encircled her clit clockwise and counter motions slowly and gently. Her hips slowly rocking along with my fingers.

"Put two fingers on it."

I nodded. Immediately inserts my fore finger and middle finger slowly inside her wet clit. I gasped on how wet and warm inside of her. It was also tight but I keep pushing my fingers in.

"Ohhhh... Shit. That feels good! It's better than fingering myself."

With a surge of pride and confidence. I curled my fingers to touch her special spot then increased the pace. That made her back arched off from the chair. Her hips keeps grinding against my fingers.

"Fuck... Keep going.. I'm almost there..." She breathlessly said. Her eyes shut tight and her knuckles turned white as she roughly clenches at her sofa chair.

I redoubled my efforts. Determined to satisfy my celebrity crush. My fingers are working non-stop to push her into the edge. To finally reach her climax.

"GODDAMN IT! I'M GONNA...." She didn't finished her words as she lets out a high pitched moan.

Felt the gushing waves of her orgasm. Coating my hand and made a mess on her chair and the floor. She plops down after she experinced the heavenly feeling.

None of us are able to speak. Both of us are in dazed on what just happend. I couldn't believe I got to sexually satisfied my celebrity crush.

Curiousity picks in, I placed my fingers inside my mouth then hestitantly sucking it. It taste better than I imagined. It taste like pineapple. Both sweet and tangy. I just realized that she ordered me to buy a lot of canned pineapple juice yesterday. That makes sense.

"Taste good, right?"

I nodded shyly. "Yeah. It does."

"Now.. now.. Let me return the favor. Sit on this chair. I'll make your fantasies come true."

She guided me to sit on the sofa chair. She kneeled down and working to unbuckles my belt with an ease.

"Wait.. Are you sure about this? This is too far."

"Oh, don't be a coward. I know you wanted this, right? You want my lips around your cock." She removed my pants then groped my erection through my briefs.

"Consider this as a perk of working for me. You worked so hard, You deserved this."

I couldn't help but to moan as she touched my cock. It is true that this is what I fantasized before.

She pulled down my briefs to let out my throbbing cock. It nearly hits her face as it sprang forward.

"Hmmm~~ Very clean and hard. You took a good care of your cock. That's impressive."

Before I could respond. I felt her tongue slowly licking from the base up to the tip. Her eyes are locked on mine as she worked her tongue all over my cock.

"You don't know how much I want your cock. I keep giving you hints here and there. Just sit back and relax."

She wrapped her lips around the tip. I felt her tongue swirling around it. It made me threw my head back.

Because of my reaction, She proceeds to suck my cock inch by inch while she still looking at me. As she reached the base, she slowly went upwards then goes back down again.

The way her cheeks hollowed as she sucking my cock and her tongue working hard underside is insanely good. I watched enough porn but feeling it personally is just too much to handle.

Her hand fondles my balls as she continues to suck my cock. She increased her pace slightly. The lewd mouth sounds of hers fills the whole condo unit.

She guides my hand to hold her hair into ponytail as she redoubles her efforts. I feel like I'm going to cum soon. The prospect of cumming inside my crush's mouth is just crazy shit to imagine.

She felt that I'm almost there. She tripled her efforts. Trying to chase that climax.

"JOY! I'M GONNA CUM!"

I exploded inside her mouth. Ropes and ropes of thick cum spurts inside. It took me a while until it's all done. I plops back at the chair exhausted. I opened my eyes and Joy showed me how much I cum at her mouth. It was overwhelmingly much than I expected.

I was surprised to see her swallowing it with an ease.

"Taste sweet. This is why I told you to drink the pineapple juice."

I remembered that she orders me to drink it along with her. She said it's for the 'health'. Yeah right.

"But we're not done yet, baby. Clearly your cock wants more."

I looked at my cock and still standing strong despite what happend earlier. Before I could speak, She straddled me. Felt my cock entering her wet pussy smoothly. We both moaned in unison. My hands went to grip her hips instinctively.

"Ready to experienced every men's dream? Call me Mommy."

"Y-yes... Mommy... I do."

She smiled sweetly then rocks her hips slowly. She lifts off her dress to expose her fully bare naked body to my sight. Her breasts, full and perfect is bouncing at every moves she makes.

"Want to touch it, baby? Go ahead. It's all yours." She guides my hands to grope her breasts. I knead her busts gently. Felt her nipples poking at my palms. Courageously, I leaned forward to claim her lips in a gentle kiss. I'm inexperienced but due to determination to make her feel good, I tried my best.

She can tell that I'm not used to kiss someone on lips. She patiently guides me how and able to kiss her deeper. Our tongues dancing in a sensual dance of tango. Definitely living the men's dream.

After kissing her, I trails my kisses down to neck. Giving it a gentle bite on her pulse point and suckle on it. Making her moan out loud. Tilting her head for more.

She's kinda sweaty but even her sweat taste good. My hand went to grope your bare ass, kneading it gently as she still riding my cock.

My kisses went down to her breasts. Admiring how full and perfect it is. I peppers kisses on it's swell until I closed my lips into one of her nipples. It made her arms wrapped around my neck as she pulled me closer to her.

Went to other breast to give it an equal attention. I couldn't stop myself loving her breasts.

My hand went to rub her clit. Trying to make her come undone. Matching the pace of her riding my cock.

"Oh gods! My fucking god! baby... I'm almost there!"

I continued fingering her clit. Anytime soon, she will see the stars once again.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Ahhhhh!!!"

Her whole body twitches. Felt the another wave of her orgasm. I didn't stop fingering her until she plops into me. Breathless and spent.

"Mommy... Can I cum inside you?"

"Sure, baby... You can.... I took a pill today."

Swiftly changed our positions. I made her sit on the sofa chair. She gasped because of my sudden actions. I watched enough porn to know what I'm going to do.

Plunged my cock back to her wet pussy and starts thrusting in and out in a hard and deep pace. Felt her arms and legs wrapped around me. Pulling me into impossibly deep.

My breathing comes ragged and heavy as I pistoning my entire length inside her. God, I don't even want this to end. I want to prolong this sensation of our skin slapping skin.

"I'm gonna cum... Mommy..."

"Yes... Do it. For mommy. Fill Mommy's womb with your lovely seed."

That was the trigger. I bursted another wave of cum inside her. Painting her inside white, making sure that even her womb is filled. The sensation is crazy, Unimaginable one. Never thought sex would be this good. Bordering addictive.

We held for each other for a while. Trying to catch our breath as we slowly decended into the reality. I nuzzled to her neck, Inhailing her intoxicating scent of sweat and sex. Our genitals are still stucked together. Neither one of us wanted to get off. Just stayed still under the sunset's glow filled the whole place.

We slept wrapped around each other.

I'm really living the men's dream.

-End-

[queen-of-signs]

🌌 Retrogrades in a Birth Chart - Some Roots Take Time To Grow 🌿

Note: These are all my personal observations and patterns I've noticed over the years. Take what resonates with you more and leave the rest. Lemme know in the comments if it hits home! A single placement or aspect isn't enough to conclude and the whole chart has to be analyzed!

Mercury Rx - I think in essays, speak in tweets. 🧠✍️

Mercury Rx natives sometimes overshare or say nothing at all. They think fast, speak slower. They edit their sentences in real life. These natives pick things up quickly but lose focus just as fast. Their projects start strong, then get abandoned or revisited later with a whole new mindset. Mercury Rx can have grand ideas in mind but struggles to put them into words or into reality. Usually, Mercury Rx natives are better at texting, writing, and drawing than talking. Two Mercury Rx people can either understand each other on another level or be completely out of sync with each other and can talk in circles. Mercury Rx natives can change the topic mid-convo and go on like nothing happened. Mercury Rx natives can be good at stirring the pot for entertainment. They are good at negotiating, convincing people to believe their ideas. Can make money out of thin air. These natives have selective memory.

For example: Mercury Rx in 6th/8th/12th natives are so good at twisting narratives to suit their needs and are good at lying. You don't even know whether they're telling the truth or not. Their opinions can change like seasons, and they can struggle sticking to a certain mindset. However, this is a great placement for fantasy writers, journalists, bloggers, media-related jobs in general, lawyers, filmmakers, actors, programmers, etc. Mercury Rx in 5th/11th natives are bad at lying. They can be involved in too many things at once only to abandon them. Mercury Rx in 3rd/9th loves to prank others or the other way around. they love DIY and crafts and might follow niche communities. Online trolls.

Venus Rx - I ghost myself before I ghost you. 👻😅

Venus Rx natives are either impulsive in love or avoidant. These natives give mixed signals to their partners. One day they're warm and giving, the next they're building walls and won't let anyone in. Love either comes too soon, or when the timing is off, or never comes when they need it the most. These natives will remember how the other made them feel, whether it's rejection, not being enough, unwanted, too much, or ignored. It lingers in their mind, and it shapes how they view love. These people don’t “date around” easily. They wait for people to choose them. They test their partner to check if they're worth it! Late bloomers in love. Sometimes, they might even lower their standards and expectations just to feel any love, only to end up feeling drained and exhausted. They might choose partners who treat these natives like a backup plan. However, these natives will remember it and instead of letting go, they carry that disappointment into the next person, the next connection, the next version of themselves. Depression. They sometimes would be loyal to the wrong person just because they have "history."

For example, Venus Rx in 6th/10th can attract envy from women, discrimination in the workplace, judged by their appearance or clothing styles. People might underestimate them or won't take them seriously. So, these natives overcompensate and work overtime to prove themselves that they deserve it. Still, their co-workers/ peers would think they slept their way to where they are or not that talented. Venus Rx 1st can be the target of harassment or could have been called crazy for their lifestyle choices. People tend to attack these natives more easily than others, whether it's racism, appearance, religion, ethnicity, or other factors. They could be either old-fashioned or into niche fashion.

Mars Rx - I argue better three days later. 🕒😐

If a dormant volcano were a person. People think these natives are calm. But no, they're holding it in. Sometimes for years, until their anger turns volcanic and their words spew out like lava. Unfiltered. Their regret shows up in action, not words. They might look or seem lazy, but they often feel stuck between wanting to act and being unsure how. They second-guess their instincts. They might want something badly, then sabotage it out of fear or confusion. In conflict, they’re unpredictable. Either they avoid it completely or burn the whole thing down. Some pick fights just to feel something, others disappear to avoid hurting anyone. They don’t always know the difference between defending themselves and attacking. Sometimes they hurt people with words, then feel guilty forever. Sometimes they say nothing and carry resentment for years. Desire is complicated. Some of them feel numb to it. Others have urges they don’t understand and would be chasing people, projects, or things that don’t make sense. Some isolate when they’re mad. Some turn pain into action like breaking things, quitting jobs, and blocking people. Others turn it inward and self-destruct first. When they finally stop holding back, when they choose action over avoidance, their energy becomes exact. Focused. Intense. Unstoppable. The storm clears, and they learn how to move without destroying everything in their path.

For example, Mars Rx in 8th/12th bury their anger six feet deep. They definitely hold grudges quietly and would strike at the worst time for the person who hurt them. The other person won't even know that the native is behind it. Mars Rx in 2nd can either overspend or hoard things. These natives might not get a reward for their work, or it may be delayed. Mars Rx in 7th can attract passive-aggressive partners or become one themselves. When snapped, they can go from silent tolerance to full-blown blow-ups over small things.

Jupiter Rx - I left faith on read. ✝️📱

Jupiter Rx natives practice 3 different religions within a year and still feel unsure. Teenage crisis. What people call expansion, they call noise. Their lessons come from within, not from gurus or traditions. They don’t believe in blind luck. They believe in trial and error, and mostly error. Wins feel delayed. Guidance shows up late. Things eventually work out, but rarely in the way they are planned or wanted. Once they let go, things would happen to them in the most harmonious way possible. When good things happen, these natives won't give a happy or butterflies-in-the-stomach reaction. Instead, they would be suspicious of it. After believing it's for them, they would still maintain a composed posture. These natives are liberal minded, agnostic/irreligious/atheist, and can still be spiritual. These natives come off as skeptical, cynical, or too “in their own world.” They hold on to past decisions too tightly or judge themselves for outgrowing past beliefs. They often feel like they're behind their peers until one day, these natives get 10 levels ahead of them once they surrender and let things happen. The beauty with Jupiter Rx is that luck doesn't knock on their door. They're the luck. It just takes them years to find that out.

For example, Jupiter Rx in 5th natives' children would be lucky to have the native as their parent. Jupiter Rx in 7th or as 7th lord, their spouse would be lucky to have the native as their spouse. Jupiter Rx in 4th can mean that the native's family would feel lucky to have the native as their child or having them as their family member.

Saturn Rx - I work smart. Or not at all. 🛋️🧠

Saturn Rx natives don't trust authoritative figures, including their own. These natives learn early that rules don't always protect you. they might have a figure in their family who was basically a "rules for thee, not for me" type. Grow up too fast. Responsibility was either too much too soon or avoided until life forced them to deal. Afraid of failure. One thing with Saturn Rx is that when these natives are scared, they would never admit it. They don't want to feel weak. Some might even avoid crying in front of others, including their family. They would go to great lengths to hide their weakness instead of working on it. Build walls instead of asking for help. They stay in jobs, habits, even relationships way past their expiration date just to feel safe. They don’t like being seen trying. Effort is private. So is shame. If they fall, they do it behind closed doors. Smart workers. Knows the shortcuts to achieve success in life, but some won't take them. Impostor syndrome. Can be unemployed for months at some point in their life. Once their career takes off, these natives become unstoppable. Saturn Rx here is protecting these natives from troubled career paths and only gives them the right path at the right time.

For example, Saturn Rx in 7th can mean an absent father figure. Their older spouse can be laid back or take a back seat in their career after marrying the native. Attract partners who are serious and long-term and have little to no options for dating here for many with this placement. Saturn Rx in 10th can mean that these natives can have long gaps in resumes or even unemployment. Might get into jobs that don't reflect their real skills. For some, their career takes off in their 30s or even 40s. Saturn Rx in 2nd can mean that these natives can come from a low-income family or a household with financial struggles. Might get into connections with people just to feel secure. Money grows after 30 and only after they have learned to earn the right way.

Uranus Rx - I forget on purpose. Or do I? 🤫📂

Uranus Rx natives can look traditional on the outside but rebel on the inside. One may never know what these natives are capable of, as they're good at deceiving others. They can easily blend in with the crowd and seem agreeable. Deep detachment, sudden rejections, and quiet cut-offs are their recipe to stay chill. These are the people who smile at the dinner table while silently unsubscribing from the whole dynamic. A Uranus native doesn't trust "the system". But a Uranus Rx native won't even trust their own family, community, co-workers, religions, and even themselves at times. A lot of them appear to follow the rules, but only because they’re rewriting them behind the scenes. These people outgrow people fast. But they don’t always let them know. Instead, they disappear or would make it impossible for them to reach the native. Distance becomes their protection. It’s easier to vanish or become out of reach than to explain their evolution to someone who wouldn’t get it anyway. Their memory is selective but sharp. They forget what they ate for breakfast, lose their keys, ignore calls, but remember exactly what you said five years ago during a fight. Hard to pin down, but impossible to fool. One may never know what they're thinking, but that's what these natives want. When they snap out of the blue, these natives end friendships/ relationships, move cities, shift careers, or even move countries without mentioning a word to anyone. These natives' relationships are either all-consuming or ice-cold. Freedom matters more than comfort. Their unique trait is that they can be loyal and distant at the same time. They’ll ghost you and still think about you every day for a year. Wrong them once, and they will get over you within 30 seconds and never look back. You're already dead to them.

For example, Uranus Rx in 5th can have a crush on someone and obsess over them for months, only to change their mind after finding out that their crush did something they don't like. Would break up with someone over text and not look back. They would reject the same person they fell for before it even begins. Uranus Rx in 7th can be unpredictable in love. Do they even have a type? They long for stable relationships but routine feels like a trap. Uranus Rx in 4th could have had a tough home life or been unconventional. Single-parent households, stepdaddy/ mommy figures, stepsiblings, etc can be seen here in some cases.

Neptune Rx - I’m softer than I look. Colder than you think. 🧊🫀

Neptune Rx people are hard to fully know and half the time, they don’t even fully know themselves. They second-guess what they feel, what they see, and who they are on the inside. Reality blurs. Memory twists. They’ve been gaslit or emotionally manipulated, sometimes without even realizing it. These people learned early how to hide. How to escape. How to shape-shift into what was needed. Truth became flexible, and so did identity. They have powerful inner worlds. Too powerful, sometimes. They’ll fall in love with a fantasy version of someone and ignore all the signs. They’ll convince themselves they’re okay when they’re drowning. They might cry alone and then act totally fine in public. They pick up on energy they can’t explain. Can have imaginary friends or talk to self in private. They talk, sing, and dance when no one's looking. They can actually fake their persona depending on the person they're with. They don’t show the full truth until they’ve seen yours.

For example, Neptune Rx in 4th always dreams of the perfect family, home, and everything since they didn't get it in reality. These natives often move countries/cities and stay away from family members to live their dreams. Might live in a toxic family household where everyone thinks they're fine and happy. Neptune Rx in 8th natives has intimacy issues. They don't know if they're the victim or supposed to feel sorry for the one who hurt them. They're good at reading others, bad at reading themselves. Neptune Rx in 11th natives never feel truly fit in anywhere. There’s a pattern of feeling invisible in groups or being part of social circles that don’t reflect their actual self.

Pluto Rx - I outgrow myself annually. Stay tuned. 🔁🖤

Pluto Rx natives are always going through some kind of inner death. You may not see it, but they’re constantly burning bridges inside themselves. It's like they burn their old versions, dead emotions, people they haven't spoken to in years, and toxicity every year like a ritual. These are the ones who don’t show their breakdowns. They disappear, transform, and return new. The world never really sees their mess, only the rebirth. They upgrade themselves each year. These natives would keep secrets, even from the people they love and trust. They're deep, but not always emotionally open. They fear being exposed, especially when they’re vulnerable. So, they test people. Push them. Watch how they react before deciding if they’re safe. They either face their wounds fully, or they run until life forces them to. Their biggest breakthroughs happen in silence. One year, they’re one person. Next, they’re unrecognizable even to themselves. Physical transformation is possible too. They outgrow people, places, even entire identities, like it’s an annual process. Some might change their name or have a "stage" name in their career.

For example, Pluto Rx in 1st natives are either obsessed over by others or hated by others. Always in survival mode. They rebuild their self-image every season, and no one's ever truly met the real version of these natives. Pluto Rx in the 3rd natives can be good at coding, writing, drawing, etc. Can be cryptic in the way they speak. Ghost friendships out of the blue and would never look back. Pluto Rx in 5th natives pour their trauma into art or through their creative outlets.

💌For readings, check out my pinned post for pricing! ✨💌🪐

[cakypa120]

Here is a prompt

Damian: Todd, I have found you a suitable partner

Jason: what no

Steph: you can’t force people marry Jason

Damian: quiet Brown, before you reject, Todd, allow me to explain the favorable traits in your partner

Damian pull out a body bag behind the couch

Tim: WHAT THE HELL

Dick: “oh my god”

Damian pulls down a zipper to reveal a tied up and gag Billy, who looks very much pissed.

Tim: “I’ll go get the brain wiping tool”

Damian: “his name is William Batson”

Steph: “ that’s unfortunate”

Damian: “ he is also a vigilante”

Dick: “oh trauma buddy”

Damian: “ he shares your viewpoint on who to kill”

Damian takes the gag out of Billy’s mouth

Damian: “ tell him your thoughts on the joker”

Billy: “….…….he should die like other crazy people”

Staring at Damian

Damian: “ oh and my favorite part is that he can turn into a tiger and he also has another tiger, That is his friend.”

Jason: “there it is”

Jason: “sup”

Billy: (finally managed to untie his restraints, sitting up) “hey”

Bruce: WHAT IS GOING ON

Billy: I can't believe I was found out by a child.

Damian: I can't believe you're still in good shape for sixty.

Billy: Suspendium. But I'm aging well now. This body is twenty.

Damian: That changes a lot. I know you have a tiger friend. Introduce us.

Billy: Sorry, but no. He only shows up when family is around. And you're not my family. So no.

Damian: Call me brother.

Billy: Tawky is no ordinary tiger. He's the most brilliant detective. Yes, even better than your father. Solomon himself wants to talk to him.

A sparkle appears in Damian's eyes. He wants to meet Touki Tony even more now. If that means becoming Billy's family, that's no problem.

Damian: Do you like girls or guys?

Billy: I'm bi. Why ask?

Damian: Do you have a mate?

Billy: No? Why are you even asking that?

Damian: Okay. But one last question. What do you think of the Joker?

Billy: He should be put down like a rabid dog. It was a big shock to me that they abolished the death penalty.

Damian nods and quickly punches Billy in the back of the head.

Jason enters the Batcave, where Damian has urgently called him.

Jason: What do you want, little rat?

Damian: I volunteered to take it upon myself to find you a future partner. And I already have one candidate. He's kind, also a kind of avenger, was an orphan and lived on the streets, his last name is Batson...

Jason: My answer is no...

Damian: He also thinks the Joker should be put down like a rabid dog.

Jason: Okay, you've piqued my interest.

Damian nods and pulls out the unconscious Billy. Jason chokes on air.

Jason: Are you nuts?!!?

Dick: Oh, Jason, you're here! OH MY GOD, WHO IS THIS?!?

Damian: Jason's boyfriend.

Jason: I didn't give my consent!!!

Billy begins to stir and open his eyes. Jason panics and hits him on the head. Billy passes out again. Jason, Dick, and Damian exchange glances.

Dick: Not me!

Damian: Not me.

Jason: You bitches! You little rat, he's your responsibility!

Damian silently walks upstairs. Dick helps Jason lift the poor guy into the manor and lay him on the couch. Billy lays quietly, the whole family leaning over him. Alfred shakes his head. He really was disappointed in all of them this time.

Billy wakes up abruptly. He was lying on the couch with several eyes staring at him. His first reaction is to eat, but he freezes when he realizes he knows these people. This is the Batclan! But Billy is playing dumb.

Billy: Who the fuck are you?!

Dick: Hi! I'm Dick, and these are my brothers and sisters.

Billy: But why am I here? Where am I?!

Tim: What's the last thing you remember?

Billy: Robin hit me in the head.

Jason: And why?

Billy: How would I know?! Where am I?

Dick: Gotham.

Billy: Gotham?! I need to get home! Do any of you know what buses go to Fawcett?

Tim: Yeah. We do. But he'll be here tomorrow and you don't have any money with you.

Billy: I'll think of something. I'll go now and I won't bother you. Bye.

Alfred: I'm afraid we can't let you go alone, young master. It's getting dark soon, and this city is very dangerous under cover of darkness. Please stay with us for the night. We've already prepared a guest room for you.

Billy: Oh, come on, don't...

Alfred: Mr. Bruce certainly won't mind your presence here.

Billy: Damn it.

Bruce returns to the manor late, since Captain Marvel missed his shift and didn't bother to write an explanation. Bruce can already imagine how he'll scold the hero and overwhelm him with a huge pile of paperwork.

Jason: Hello, old man. You're late.

Unknown boy: Hello.

Jason: This is Billy. Robin kidnapped him from Fawcett and brought him to the city. Batman left him with us so that we could take care of him. So Billy will stay at the manor tonight. Tomorrow you'll give him the money and he'll leave for Fawcett in peace.

Bruce looks first at Jason, then at Billy. This guy looks a lot like Captain Marvel.

Bruce: Billy, why did Robin kidnap you?

Billy: I don't know. He hit me hard on the head and then I passed out. Then when I came to, there was a weird guy in a red helmet and he hit me too!

Bruce: Okay. I don't mind if you stay here.

Billy: Thanks.

Jason: Then I'll keep an eye on him.

Billy and Bruce: What?!

Jason: You'll run away. I can see it. The last homeless guy, remember? I can see right through you. The bed is big. Against the wall or the edge?

Billy: Wall.

Jason: Great. Let's go to bed!

Jason takes Billy up to the second floor. Bruce was going crazy. Billy was probably Captain's son. Marvel was probably looking for him, ignoring absolutely everything.

Damian: They're already sleeping in the same room. Good. Father, you might want to expect grandchildren soon.

Bruce: What are you doing?

Damian: Matchmaking. I need to be part of Billy's family. Jason is just a small sacrifice for a greater purpose.

Bruce: You need to be part of Billy's family? Why?

Damian: My purpose is beyond your comprehension. It's late. We need to patrol.

Damian leaves. Bruce stands in shocked silence.

[navybrat817]

Diamonds and Steel - Intro

Pairing: Retired Hitman!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky treats you to a getaway, but peace won't last for long.

Word Count: Over 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected v. sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive behavior, established relationship, dirty talk, talk of violence and nightmares, world building, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: So, I wrote this intro months ago. I feel like this Bucky would get along with our alpha. Thanks @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me (s)cream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The sun shining in from the balcony door woke you slowly. You weren't sure what time it was as you squinted against the brightness with a small stretch, the spacious bedroom becoming brighter with each passing second. You had only been in the villa for a day, but it was your new favorite place. Thanks in large part to the person who brought you here. 

A smile touched your face when the hand on your hip gripped you tighter. Carefully turning to face the man beside you who still had his eyes closed, you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his long dark hair. Your smile widened when he leaned into your touch. Asleep or awake, he always sought it out. And this was a person who didn't let most people touch him. 

But I can because he’s my man. 

Bucky Barnes, a man who was intimidating even laying down. Tall with wide shoulders, built like a warrior with a few scars to prove it. You moved a finger through his nearly trimmed beard and almost wished he'd open his steely eyes so you could gaze into them. He unnerved many with his stare, but he always looked at you as if you were the reason he saw the light of day. Burying your face in his neck with a sigh, it gave you a sense of peace when he pulled you closer to him on instinct. 

“Morning, my treasure.” The affectionate pet name was one you'd never grow tired of. It did make you giggle the first time he called you that. He had lots of money, more than you could ever fathom, and could buy all the treasures he could ever desire, yet he thought you were treasure. His most precious thing. 

“Morning,” you whispered, shifting so your body could melt into his more. 

He moaned appreciatively as your hips moved closer. “How did you sleep?” He tipped your chin up so he could look at you, the sleep fading quickly from his eyes. It didn't matter that he just woke up, he looked as handsome as ever and knocked the wind right out of you. It was highly doubtful you looked beautiful having just woken up, but he’d say looked perfect if you asked. 

“I slept well,” you answered. You had good dreams, including one of the two of you sitting on soft white sand and watching the waves crash in the glittering ocean. You could go anywhere in the world you wanted now thanks to him. “Did you?”

Bucky warned you when you entered your relationship with him that he sometimes had trouble sleeping. Bouts of insomnia and occasional nightmares. You witnessed one first-hand near the beginning when he woke up in a cold sweat, his hand clenched like he was holding a weapon and empty eyes like he couldn't see what was right in front of him. He didn't like to talk about his past and could only tell you later on that all he saw were bullets and blood. 

His haunted gaze broke your heart. 

“Slept very well. I had very good dreams.” His nose brushed your forehead before his lips touched it. You were happy to hear that. “In fact, I can show you exactly what I dreamt about if you’d like.”

Need slammed into you at the implication, your palms itching to feel his hardened body as he held you closer. You wanted to trace the scars, the tattoos. Every inch of him. “Sure you don't want breakfast first?”

Bucky didn't ask for much. One of the only things he requested when you began your journey together was that you’d sit and have meals with him. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was a time for the two of you to talk about anything and everything, though he preferred to focus on the present and the future instead of the past. You understood. You didn't like dwelling on the past either since your life was much happier now. 

He arched an eyebrow, looking cool as ever. “What if I want you for breakfast?” He brought his lips to yours, not giving you a chance to argue that you hadn't brushed your teeth. He didn't care about things like that. “You wouldn't let me starve, would you?”

The low heat from his voice seared through your core, wrapping around you like the satin sheet that covered you both. It was the only thing covering you in fact, your clothes strewn across the floor the night before. He had you keep the diamond pendant on, a gift he had given you when you arrived at the villa. It was beautiful.

The diamond to his steel.

“As if you’d ever starve. Your appetite for me is borderline gluttonous,” you teased. Guilt flickered in his eyes before you put a hand to his cheek, his expression shifting back to normal. “Hey, I didn't mean that in a bad way. I love that you want me.”

Oh, did Bucky want you. His face buried between your thighs, his cock spearing you open. If he didn't have you in bed, he had you against a wall or bent over the nearest surface. Not a day went by that he didn't give you at least one orgasm, like he was making up for lost time apart before you even knew each other. It didn't make sense to you some days that a man as gorgeous and worldly as him could have anyone he wanted, but chose you. 

“And I love you wanting me,” he said. You didn't just want him. You ached for him, inside and out. How could one man hold such power over you? To be fair, the balance of power was equal in some ways since you affected him the same way.

“How could I not want you? Even if I resisted, your skills of seduction are dangerous.”

You gasped when a massive thigh pushed between your legs. “Moya Sladkaya, you think I’m seductive?” he purred, making you shiver as the sound vibrated through your body.

“Yes and you know you are.” You bit your lip as his thigh shifted, gliding along your heat. It was tempting to ride it. “Your voice, your eyes, your mouth, your body. Partially why you became my sugar daddy.”

He growled as he suddenly rolled on top of you. “I'm your boyfriend,” he corrected you, holding your gaze. He looked hungry. “Who happened to wipe out your debt the way a sugar daddy would.”

“That’s still crazy to me,” you remarked. 

“That I wiped out your debt or that I’m your boyfriend?”

You twirled a bit of his hair around your finger. “Both,” you whispered. Living a debt free life was something you hadn't thought possible until he showed up. Now you had a life without the stress of bills and work, and also one where you felt loved and cared for. He gave you that and more. “But it’s crazy in the best possible way.”

“So it’s a good thing I'm crazy about you,” he smirked.

“Crazy about me?” You put a hand to his forehead. “Hmm. I think you should have your head examined.”

Bucky took your hand and brought it to his mouth, his expression blank. “No one needs to look inside my head,” he said, his eyes warm again as he kissed your palm. It seemed to push out whatever memory undoubtedly crept into his mind. “Because if someone could, they’d see all the dirty things I've done to you and no one else needs to see that.”

You giggled as he nudged your legs apart. “Yes, you’ve done a lot of dirty things to me,” you teased, your eyes slipping shut as he peppered kisses along your jaw and neck. Just two days ago he had you naked in his lap with your arms tied behind your back while he fed you dessert. And then he had you for dessert. “You’re insatiable.”

The gentle scrape of his teeth over your neck set your blood on fire. “If I’m insatiable, it’s your fault. One look at you and I was a goner,” he whispered, a hand moving possessively between your bodies. His thumb brushed your nipple into a taut peak, your back arching to seek out more of him. “You brought beauty and joy back to my world. You saved me, you know that?”

Unexpected tears burned behind your lids. He lived in a world of gray for so long. The least you could do after everything was bring him some light. “You saved me, too,” you breathed. He got to be your hero. You got to be his treasure. A fair trade in his eyes.

You gasped when he nipped at your racing pulse. “Don’t do that. Don't compliment me. This isn’t about me.” Both of you had a tendency to deflect praise at times, but it was something you were working on. And while he didn’t view himself as a hero, he did save you in his own way. 

“You’re a good man,” you said softly, fiercely. He didn't think he was because of some of the things he had done, because of the blood on his hands, but he wasn’t a bad person. “I mean it, Bucky.”

He sighed, scraping his beard against your skin affectionately. “I know you do.” He took his time sliding his hand down your torso, your breath leaving your lungs at the same slow speed. “But I want to compliment you, so take what I give you.”

You'd be sure to compliment him again later. “Not the only thing you’ll tell me to take, is it?” You giggled when he growled again. Getting under his skin was a lot of fun. “We both know I take you so well. Just like I take every drop you spill into me, no matter which hole you choose.”

He made a sound between a moan and a growl. You didn't think your dirty talk was the best by any means, but he loved it. “And you call me insatiable,” he said, his fingers exquisitely gentle as they found your wetness. “Always wet and ready for me, eager for me to fill all of your holes.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you groaned, feeling the evidence of his arousal press against you. Thick. Hard. You shuddered with the need for him to just take you. “Actually, you have every right to be cocky. You’ve ruined me.”

He brought his face up to yours, close enough that he breathed against your lips. “I haven't ruined you yet.” His promise had you trembling, wishing he’d tear you apart without a second thought. 

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his, heat curling in your stomach as he slipped a calloused finger inside you. Your hands moved to his arms, his muscles rippling as he pumped it deep. Your sensitive walls clenched as he added another, a delicious tease of what was to come. How did your need for him continue to grow with each day that passed?

Bucky broke the kiss, your breathing heavy as he continued to toy with you. “After breakfast, I want your cunt pulsing on my tongue,” he whispered as he broke the kiss, a thrill shooting from your head to your toes. You’d be content to spend the rest of your life sitting on his face if you could get away with it.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, pleasure mounting as his fingers curled. You tried to hold back the familiar cresting waves, wanting his cock inside you when you let it wash over you. “Make love to me. Fuck me. Just get your cock in me.”

Slowly removing his fingers, your hole clenching around nothing, he smirked as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean. The stark hunger in his gaze at the taste of you nearly made you orgasm. “Well, since you’re so desperate for me,” he teased, gripping the base of his cock and lining the head against your hole. 

“I’m desperate?” Your voice cracked when he slid into you in one deep thrust. Your fingers dug into his biceps, adjusting to the size of him as he looked into your eyes. He was searching for any discomfort or pain. There was none there. Your body would always welcome him home. 

“Yes. Desperate.” You couldn't deny that when Bucky moved his hips. Deep, long strokes, the drag of his cock making you feel almost mindless. No one before him made you desperate. No one else ever would. “Wet. Tight. Beautiful. Perfect.”

You gasped, rolling your hips up to meet his. “I’m not-” He cut you off with a kiss, silencing your protest that you weren't perfect. You were anything but. Like everyone, you had flaws. Imperfections. It was like he didn't see them or they didn't exist in his eyes. 

“Yes, you fucking are,” he growled, making you cry out when he thrust hard. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he crushed your chests together, your heart matching the rhythm of his. You held onto him like you never wanted to let him go. “My perfect treasure.”

Heat engulfed you as he reached between you and slid his fingers along your clit. Your hips bucked, your arousal climbing and taking you higher. The handsome man above you canting his hips and groaning as you keened had your body begging for release. 

“Bucky, please. I need to come,” you whined. You didn't need his permission, but you still begged for it. 

He watched your blissful expression with dark eyes and a devilish smirk. “That’s what I dreamt about.” His rumbling words had your thighs trembling. “You underneath me, taking every inch of my cock, begging to come.”

A hand worked its way to his hair and gripped it, trying to ground yourself from the sensations rushing through you. The edges of your vision blurred as your body wound tighter, ready to give yourself over to the pleasure only he could provide. “Please, Bucky,” you said. At least you thought you said it. The waves were ready to sweep you away. 

“Come for me.” His husky voice wasn't one to be denied. “Make my dream come true.”

Your head fell back, your walls fluttering around his cock as you went over the precipice. Blood roared in your ears, but you could still hear him moan your name as you spiraled out of control. His body followed your lead, pumping his hips a few more times before he came with a deep moan. Feeling him flood your insides and seeing ecstasy fill his gorgeous eyes made you grip him like a vice all over again. 

Bucky pulled you close when he gently collapsed on the bed, staying inside you as long as he could. Your body fit against his like you were designed just for him and you couldn't help but smile as you caught your breath. He smiled, too. A gorgeous, carefree smile. 

“Dream come true?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat when his smile widened and eyes crinkled. 

“Even better,” he whispered, cupping your cheek and skimming his lips against yours in a soft kiss. “Can we just stay like this?

You rubbed your cheek against his hand as the hazy cloud lifted. “If that’s what you want.”

“I meant forever,” he half teased, his hand reaching for yours to trace your bare finger.

Butterflies filled your stomach. It wasn’t a proposal, but it still felt like he was asking in a way. “Do you mean in this bed? As long as we can have our meals here and do movie nights. Oh, and a way to clean the sheets because they’ll be filthy.”

His eyes crinkled again as he chuckled. How did a laugh sound both wholesome and seductive? That was the power of Bucky Barnes. “And sex to keep us in shape,” he said, pulling the sheet more over you. “Sounds perfect, even if I don’t deserve it.”

You tilted your head, gazing at the man who turned your world upside down as the happiness slowly slipped from his face. Like how your body ached for his, your heart ached for him, too. “You do deserve this. You're not a bad man, Bucky.” He needed to hear it again. You'd tell him as many times as it took until it sank in. 

His jaw twitched, his eyes holding a hint of regret. “I’ve killed people,” he reminded you in an even tone.

“I know,” you whispered. You accepted that it was part of his past and who he was. You accepted him. “That doesn’t make you unworthy of me.”

His eyes closed, his hold on you firmer. “It would almost be easier if you condemned me, but I’m a selfish man who wouldn’t be able to let you go.”

Your heart swelled. He was so gone for you. “I’m not asking you to let me go,” you said, turning his head back to you until his eyes opened. “I’m your treasure, remember? Yours to keep.”

The hard edges to his face softened once again. “C’mere,” he breathed. You met him halfway when he leaned in, his lips only on yours for a second when the doorbell rang. You were about to ask if he was expecting company, but he didn’t have to with the way his body tensed. He turned away from you, his phone in hand to check the camera at the front door. Security was important to him. “What the hell?”

“Who is it?” You sat up, not bothering to cover yourself as he got up and threw something on. You couldn’t even appreciate the view since his entire demeanor changed. “And should I go with you?”

His jaw twitched again. “Delivery guy dropped something off and left. Hang back a little,” he answered before he grabbed you a robe. He’d preferred you close as opposed to being in the bedroom alone. “I don’t want anyone seeing you if they’re still nearby.”

“Lots of people see me,” you tried to joke. You stopped smiling when he swung his head your way. He took your safety very seriously. “I’ll hang back.”

Taking your hand, he headed to the front of the villa. Your legs shook a bit, but you blamed that on the orgasm he gave you and not fear. He stopped you before you could reach the door, giving you a quick, hard kiss. It left you breathless when he pulled away. “Stay right here,” he whispered, your heart pounding as he grabbed one of his many hidden guns. 

Weapons everywhere, a habit he’d never break.

You couldn’t see his expression when he went out to retrieve whatever was dropped off, but you understood his paranoia since he lived a dangerous life before. Not a lot of people knew where you were going on this vacation and he clearly wasn't expecting a delivery. “What is it?” you asked once he put the gun away and went back to you. A smile touched your lips when you saw the arrangement of various red flowers. “Those are beautiful.”

“They’re addressed to you.” He plucked the card from the holder to show you, his mouth set in a grim line. “But I didn’t order these.”

Dread filled you as you took the card from him and turned it over. Your name was the only thing written on it, minus a small stamp in the corner you hadn’t seen before: a heart and dagger. “Well, if you didn’t get me these, who did?”

“Someone from my past,” he said so quietly he almost missed it. 

Your eyes widened. “Why would someone from your past send me flowers?” As far as you knew he didn't keep in touch with most of his old associates. “And how do they know we’re here?”

You stopped breathing when you saw his eyes. Cold. Deadly. “That’s what I'm going to find out.”

So much for staying in bed today.

OOH. What do we think so far? I wonder who from Bucky's past is going to pop up and why. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bemusedlybespectacled]

actual funniest thing that could happen (legally) right now: Trump suing Elon for defamation.

like, okay, Elon just accused Trump of being in the Epstein files and that that’s the reason why they haven't been released to the public. accusing someone of a serious crime is defamation per se, meaning Trump would not need to prove any actual damages to win. and Trump loves filing defamation lawsuits, even in situations where his own conduct made him look bad, but to be fair to him, I think most people would be upset if they were accused of pedophilia, not just people with skin made out of wet Kleenex.

now, normally, it’s difficult to prove defamation against a public figure. New York Times v. Sullivan requires that someone who makes false statements against a public figure needs to have had “actual malice” (either the speaker knew the statement was false or didn’t care if the statement was true or not) for it to be defamation. Trump hates New York Times v. Sullivan because it makes it harder for him to sue people for defamation, and he's argued it should be overturned before.

but here, he wouldn’t even need to argue that it should be overturned! Elon is clearly making those statements with "actual malice" - he's clearly just saying this shit because he's upset at being booted from the White House, not because he actually has any knowledge of what's in the Epstein files!

UNLESS

UNLESS

Elon is in fact telling the truth, because truth is an absolute defense to defamation.

so say Trump sues Elon. now Elon has to pour some of his personal resources into paying lawyers. we've seen that Trump has attacked law firms for representing people he doesn't like (including issuing blatantly illegal executive orders targeting them and only lifting them if they "donate" pro bono work to the government), so Elon might need to spend more than he normally would to keep his lawyers happy and still willing to work for him. so it would take a lot of effort and a lot of money at a time when all of his companies are tanking.

and that's assuming Trump doesn't also cancel Musk's government contracts, which would hurt his income stream directly (much less money coming in to Tesla and Starlink and SpaceX) and indirectly (if people think his companies are bad investments, that doesn't just affect the price of his stock, but also his net worth).

but on Trump's side, he's going to have to prove that the accusations aren't true (the burden of proof is on the plaintiff in the US), and if he refuses to release the Epstein files to support his case, that's going to add fuel to the fire (both in actual court and the court of public opinion) because one of Elon's accusations is that Trump is deliberately hiding the Epstein files because he's in them.

additionally, even if Trump commandeered federal funds to pay for his legal team (which he totally would, and would make it possibly the only time Elon has been the less wealthy party in a case), Trump also doesn't, like, pay anyone who works for him. and just fired a bunch of DoJ lawyers in addition to everyone else in the government. and hired a bunch of total incompetents to run things. and if any of the law firms he's targeted with his executive orders have represented both him and Elon, they won't be able to legally represent Trump against Elon. so he's not exactly going to have the pick of the litter if he needs someone to personally represent him.

seriously I would kill to be able to watch these particular legal fireworks, it would be SO fucking funny, I am speaking this into the universe and asking for it to be manifested

[tf2heritageposts]

tips for runaways of abusive families

from one who did that

note: this assumes you are 18+ or will be 18+ upon escaping, and also american, sorry

BEFORE YOU LEAVE:

get your insurance information, ESPECIALLY YOUR HEALTH INSURANCE. you can use it until you're 26

have your ssn memorized

make sure you have a decent amount of money saved up, dependent on your situation

have your method of transportation figured out beforehand. are you leaving the city? state? general area? country? get it planned out

if you are planning on taking your pet with you, make sure you have food stocked up with you and bottles of water. i would also reccomend bringing a 1ml kids syringe if you have the type of pet that will stop eating/drinking in stress situations. also bring a form of cover like an extra shirt or towel if it is an easily stressed pet. also make sure you have a carrier, and if you're going on a plane, make sure it is up to the standard of your plane, as well as making s ure your type of pet is allowed on the plane, especially if its an "exotic" pet, aka anything thats not a cat or dog

i also may recommend stocking up some food but depending on your situation this may not be needed

stock up on any medications you may have/need

don't give your family any form of information they could use to track you down in the future, especially if theyre the crazier types

make sure to change your passwords on any technology you may be leaving form and log out completely on them. make sure you have no files they could use to find you

DURING:

leave at a time where you're 100% sure nobody will catch you. if you have a family member that comes home late from work, know when they'll be back and asleep

turn off ANY location services you have after you're already away from the house, even if it alarms them. you don't want them to figire out where you are

wear a jacket with pockets, especially deep ones

make sure you have your wallet, forms of id, etc

get ready to run as fast as you can

if you're leaving the state, especially via plane, DO NOT IMMEDIATLY GO TO THE AIRPORT, THEY WILL CHECK THERE FIRST! go to a hotel and spend 1-3 days there while they exhaust their time and figure you already left. THEN you can go

stay calm while you're in the process of leaving. the moment you hit the air, they legally can't do anything

keep any critter you have calm, especially if they can suffer health problems from stress

have your hotels booked in advance

AFTER:

dont give your family your address if they try to talk to you

if you can really, cut them off entirely. chances are theyre not gonna change

get an air mattress as soon as you can, we used doordash for one

figure out how you will be paying finances. if you're living with someone, great, if not, you may have to post donation posts on social media until you can get a job

be happy you escaped, good job! most people won't be able to do this so im proud you were

[theladybrownstarot]

۶ৎ ʜᴏᴡ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ? ִֶָ ✧⋆

-> Masterlist - for more , support me by following .

-> Paid-Readings - For own personalised version you can order yours now!

ᯓ★ 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

۶ৎ Firstly , your future spouse would describe you as someone who is patient and along someone who loves to go slow in life ; not i hurry . They maybe even be like - mann she/he is clumsy too like you won't believe but he\she gets lost while doing anything . for example ; you are filling water and daze up forgetting about what you are doing and suddenly SNAP ! being like- omg I forgot about it shits !. Okay okay day dreamers and lazy ladss here on the bed mostly lol who get tired quickly . They will share your funny things first in a soft humorous way not disrespecting you or make someonelse feel quite low or down about you . You will be someone who is alot conscious with money and spending annd if i say you may get you way out without doing much making them wonder - How in the heavens you get it done but not me ? lmfao .

۶ৎ They will describe you as someone cute even without trying much . Even like when they will describe your cute moments they will tilting their head lost in those memories explaining all it to others - soo laid down for you they are haha congratulations pile 1 ! . They will describe you as someone all the time WHINYY - like you are always like this to them - I don't wanna do it , I'm not so in energy today , ALAS Godd and why do you scold me a lot ( haha).

۶ৎ BUT along with this we cannot forget that how rebellious you can be to protect others , like you may not have energy to work but during fights you are all a bloody politicians and fighter as hell haha pile 1 ig fights get you quite motivated huh not even lazy for it ? . You are someone competitive and be like - I won't bow down ! and this is what you future spouse loves most about to you at same may even challenge people to compete with you putting that trust that - I know her she/he is the best .

۶ৎ You had a tough life or tough experiences which could be the reason that why are you so strong and firm today . Your future spouse may inspire those people who were once at your place sharing the instances or short summary type stories to get them go like you . I believe that your future spouse respects your privacy and comfort since you may not be that comfortable sharing everything with anyone except people in life because of certain trust issues or believes .

۶ৎ This leads me to the the conclusion that you will described by your person as - patient , cute, innocent yet mischievous , rebellious , protective , warrior-like , lazy - clumsy -messy lads , thrill-seeker , adventure and nature lover , laid-back , day-dreamer , racer , competitor, fighter , practical ,logical , rational and justice seeker & provider .

ᯓ★ 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

۶ৎ Okay , so they first describe you as someone who is selfless . You tend to a lot for other but majorly at times you sacrifice yourself good for nothing than getting criticized which makes other feels that you are some noble personality but at same they feel bad for you - hugs to you man we need people like you in this world. They will describe you as someone who comes up with varied solutions when faced with tough situations at times getting all these after facing the storm lol . You may even be among those people who tend to think and revisit memories of the past till midnight thinking what you could have done turning the things up and then facepalming in regret saying - Why didn't i do that ?! . They may even describe you as someone who can manipulate someone by just staring giving them another idea from what was intended to from your side .

۶ৎ They may describe you as someone who is forgetful and loose their things often - like you are among those lads who will keep things at one place and will forget it later , being like - oh shoot ! where is it ? ! ( all this happening and your person scratching their neck thinking - again that same drama uff.) .

۶ৎ They will describe you someone who knows when to advance for your own good sneakingly . Okay okay no offence but lol - are you those people who would do little lame robberies , for example - taking cutlery , tissues or water bottles from places lol because I'm getting those vibes here . Omg your future spouse tends to get embarrassed from your actions at same hiding their face , being like - IDK this person please no attention here lol . Your future spouse will be open and all smooth telling everything from a to z without caring a lot all laid back .

۶ৎ You are someone who tends to change a lot ,even your believes , for example - you will be someone than next day you will be someone , or you will trust in on thing than another times in other thing making it hard to understand you and you choices even your mentality . your like an ORGANIC CHEMISTRY with exceptions but anyhow a person with optimism and shine of a sun attracting others - giving warmth and sharing .

ᯓ★ 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

۶ৎ Your future spouse will you describe as someone who is balanced. You will are like emotionally calm yet passionate and all smooth , you are among those who do not show your interest , talents and passion outwardly showing- off rather low key and in a damnn irresistible way making people wonder - can she/he do more ? , i wanna know more about you , wow i never expected this from them . TO your future spouse and me you give serpent vibes like all smooth , flowly , irresistible , magnetic and hypnotizing with simple actions without much add ups .

۶ৎ They can't help but describe how much secure they feel around you without any worldly worries in this world around them demanding and exhausting their energy overall but there you are embracing them in your arms relaxing caressing them . When they tell this all about you they can't help but transmit positive energies of yours to the person they telling are about you . YOU people could be water , earth and air signs dominant like in a mixed way but sensing water and earth major here , could even be saturned ruled person which makes you quite firm with principles and life lessons .

۶ৎ They will describe you as someone who is a multi-tasker. You do multi-tasking but not in a random way getting all work done at one rather slow , divided and calculated Which helps you two analyze and plan further accordingly . You may described as so0meone with a central position at one place where everything is connected to you so you may tend to get stuck but come out it pretty quickly .

©️ @theladybrownstarot 2025 all rights reserved. Any stealing or copying of work will be a punishable offence.

[pineconepie]

Hello! i was wondering if you could do serial killer/slasher yandere parent? Dont know if thats too dark tho 😅

Here it is!! I've gotten a few requests like this, and since a lot of people also want to see more willing readers, I added a little of that to the mix!

TW: Implied/attempted murder, loss of child, implied assault/creeps toward reader (not the yandad), parental yandere, light forced infantilization, violence, reader implied to kind of has issues of their own

You know it wasn't a good idea to walk home alone, especially in this hour of the night, and double-especially when there had already been six murders around the same general area you live in, all clearly by the same person.

But, your phone had died, you couldn't get an Uber, and there wasn't really anybody you could call to come pick you up, even if your phone was working properly.

So, you decide that walking home will have to work tonight.

That probably wasn't the best choice you've ever made.

When you're halfway to your house, you hear a slight rustling around behind you. You spin around, hoping to catch whatever (or whoever) was following you in the act of making the sound. There's nothing there.

Shaking your head, you continue to walk down the street, subconsciously walking faster.

It must be that murder case that's been hanging over everyone's heads lately that's getting you nervous like this, right?

Wrong.

When you start speed-walking, the same noise as before starts up again, but it sounds closer than last time. You don't have much time before someone tries tackling you.

In the corner of your eye, you see a gun pulled out from under their trench coat. Quickly reaching out for the murderer's arm, you grab it, and try to stop them from aiming at you.

You shove them away and run in the only direction you can without getting tackled; the alleyway.

Seeing there's no time to hide, and all the hiding spots are obvious anyway, you succumb to a panic attack and crouch down onto the ground with your head in your knees.

You take out what money you have and chuck it in his direction. "Please, just take my money and leave me alone! That's all I have! If you want my phone too, just take it!"

The man almost cackles. "I don't need any money," he states matter-of-factly. You can hear the grin in his voice. He walks slowly towards you as if to intimidate you more, though it does little to affect your mindset more than it already has. He's still holding the gun. "Don't take it personally. It's nothing against you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

At this point, you've fully come to terms with your demise, which is clear to the other party.

You look up at him with puffy eyes from sobbing, and tears and snot running down your face. Most of his face is covered, but you can see his eyes.

And much to your surprise, you see them widen.

A few seconds go by, and now you're afraid to break eye contact. You watch as the man before you put his gun back in its holster inside of his trench coat and curse under his breath while looking away.

He clears his throat after a few more dramatic seconds go by. "Go home, kid." You stand up on shaky legs. "Grab your stuff first, then get outta here. I won't chase ya."

Hesitant, you do so anyway, because who would refuse such an offer?

Grabbing your money, you stuff it in your pockets and wipe your face. As soon as you're ready to go, you dash past the stranger, not wanting to spend another minute around the killer.

...

After that incident, you feel as if you're being watched.

Well, obviously you'd think so; you were just almost murdered.

But, when you're going to anywhere, you can feel eyes staring at you wherever you go.

A car with tinted windows follows each time. It isn't unique by any means, just a black Mitsubishi.

But still, it's there. Every time you leave your house, the same vehicle parks near you until you return to your home. Sometimes you try going on wild goose chases to catch the bastard following you off guard, but when you make your way back, it'll be parked somewhere near your driveway.

For almost two months this becomes a cycle, and it especially starts becoming concerning whenever you get sick, or have a bad day, there's always a basket of goodies on your porch steps the next day.

You don't eat them, and instead just throw them away, but it's clear none of them have been tampered with. The most disturbing part about it all is they have your favorites—your favorite animals now into plushies, your favorite snacks and candies, and other such things.

Is this his way of just messing with you until he inevitably comes to finish the job?

One night, when you're walking home from work, you notice the same vehicle tailing you from your workplace to your house. You walk with speed and reach your porch step, where the driver can see you enter your house, and they pull out, as if reassured you're safe.

Maybe they're trying to make sure you aren't hurt in any way?

Another night, one late, you stay out longer than you should, and much like any other time, you're followed once again.

Unlike normal though, there are three men whistling at you, taunting you. You ignore them as best as you can, walking faster and keeping your head down in hopes you won't seem interesting. Your wishes are not fulfilled.

Your arm is tugged harshly backward, pulling you onto the sidewalk with brute force.

The three guys look at you hungrily. "Where are you going this late at night?" the obvious leader speaks up, a greasy, slimy grin on his face, only worsening when he sees how fearful you've become.

"I...I'm going home."

One of them tries grabbing you, and against your better judgment, you take off in an attempt to escape, though you aren't fast enough to avoid your jacket being grabbed.

In your panic, you somehow end up wriggling yourself away and onto the ground. You try to get up, but one of them holds their foot on your back, pushing you back onto the asphalt.

But, oh-so-conveniently, you can hear a vehicle door open and slam shut, and then the pounding of boots against concrete.

The foot on your back lets up, because the guy goes tumbling backwards onto his back.

Now free, you sit yourself up quickly, rubbing the back of your head, which had hit the sidewalk. You blink the blurriness away, to see the man—the same one who nearly killed you and has been following you—hovering over the main creep.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?!" said creep yells. He tries standing up, but the killer stomps on his ankle.

A crunch resounds through the air, accompanied by a sharp scream. The other two guys stand frozen, watching in horror.

"Get your little buddy and get outta here," he warns the other two, finally backing away. He has a gun pointed at them threateningly, as to tell them not to try anything else.

They quickly help their leader up and hobble away in fear.

You want to yell at this man, to demand answers or run, but you can't. "Thank you, sir..." you whisper.

Now you can get a good look at him. He looks to be somewhere in his forties, maybe even fifties, and has graying brown hair, along with gray eyes.

There's a scar along his cheekbone that adds a rugged charm to him. He smells like expensive cologne and coffee beans. If he didn't try killing you not too long ago, you might've really put your trust into him, he seems like just a grumpy dad.

"Are you alright?" His voice sounds oddly soft, as if genuinely concerned for your health. He reaches toward you, and you close your eyes, readying yourself to be hurt, but he only examines a bruise forming on your forehead. "Thought you learnt your lesson last time about stayin' out late at night."

"I don't think it'd matter either way. You know where I live, I've seen your car," you mutter. You don't look him in the eyes, hoping to avoid seeing any possible rage held within them. He doesn't say anything after that, so you continue. "Why are you doing this?"

A rough hand grabs yours, lifting you to your feet. "Do what? Save ya from gettin' jumped?"

"No! That's part of it, sure, but the gifts, and protecting me, and—and...you were just gonna kill me all those months ago!"

He sighs. "Yeah, 'were'. Not 'are'. I decided I ain't gonna anymore."

"But why?" you repeat, glaring daggers at the older man.

"I usually go after bad people. I mistook you for someone else, and then when you looked up at me like you did," he says while shifting his stance to a more firm position, "'all scared and hopeless and pathetic and—" he pauses suddenly, shaking his head to recollect himself. "Look, I saw my kid in you."

"You have a kid?"

"Had. Had a kid."

You almost want to apologize for the loss of his kid, when you remember the fact he's literally a serial killer. "And that's why you decided to stalk me for the past two months and give me baskets full of stuff?"

"We both know for a fact you hardly take care of yourself well enough. You're clumsy as shit, always irresponsible, you eat terribly..."

"I'm not being scolded how I live my life by a serial killer!" you interject. "Who even are you, anyway?"

"Dante," he answers.

"And I figure you already know everything about me?" It's less of a question and more of a statement at this point.

He chuckles. "If I didn't, would you still introduce yourself to me?" When he gets no answer from you, he smiles lopsidedly. "Get in the car, I'll drive ya home."

You narrow your eyes at him. "So you can kidnap me, or something?"

Dante puts a hand on your shoulder, his expression becoming cold again. "If I wanted to do that, I could have already done it plenty of times before, kiddo. I'm a lot of things; a liar ain't one of them."

"Fine, okay. I'll let you drive me home." You roll your eyes when you hear him laugh victoriously under his breath and follow him into his car. "How do you have the time all day to stalk me like this?" you ask aloud, climbing into the passenger's seat. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"You call it stalking, I call it watchin' over you like a father should his child. So far, we've seen just how helpful it is having me keep an eye on you," Dante replies. He pauses. "And I'm retired, but I used to be a private investigator."

"Oh joy. My own personal PI." You buckle your seat belt. You're still in disbelief. Someone actually gives enough of a damn about your safety, and it's your local neighborhood serial killer? "You said you only kill bad people." He hums in confirmation. "Does that mean 'petty thief' bad? Or, like, actual bad people?"

"The latter, kid. Not 'cause it makes me feel like a good person, just makes me feel like less of a bad person."

"So you can admit you aren't a good person?" you quip sarcastically, arms folded.

"Course not. But I don't think there really are any inherently good people in the world," he says.

"What about me, then? Why protect me if you think there's nobody who's actually 'good'?"

Dante glances at you. "I don't expect you to be a saint. In my eyes, you're amazing, perfect even. And sure, you got flaws—a lot of 'em—but so does your old man."

You cringe at the statement. "You mentioned me reminding you of your kid. What happened?" you pry further. "All I know is they died, right?" You rub the bruise on your forehead.

"They were out with some friends one night. And a few hours later I'm gettin' phone calls about how my baby's in critical condition. I get there, but there wasn't anything I could've done to save 'em. All I could do was sit beside them 'til..." He trails off. "They died holding my hand. But," he adds, looking at you sternly, "that shit ain't happenin' to you. That's why I'm keeping you safe."

After he stops at a red light, you stare up at him, deep in thought. "Is that why you kill...?"

"Because someone killed my kid?"

"Yeah, exactly."

Dante nods his head after a moment of hesitation. "It started with that, yeah. I killed the bastards that put them in that hospital bed. But that wasn't enough. I guess with monsters like that, I get a little trigger-happy."

It's quiet for a while.

"...how do you know I won't come forward about this information?" you question once your home is in sight. "Or try leaving, for that matter?"

Dante laughs. "You wouldn't get far without me knowing."

That shuts you up quick. Your house pulls up soon afterwards.

"Well, uh, thanks for driving me home," you mumble, opening the car door.

"No problem. Oh, wait—" he takes your wrist gently to keep you from getting out yet. He digs in the compartment below your armrest. Eventually he finds a pen and pad. He writes something down, ripping it off and handing it to you. "—call me whenever you need it. Even if ya just need help studying, or whatever." Dante shrugs nonchalantly.

"Or I'll just knock on the window of the car outside my place?" You weakly smile. Despite the oddity of the situation, this whole scenario is strangely hilarious.

At least, it feels that way because you might've hit your head a little too hard.

...

Those people who were harassing you went missing. You know for a fact it was Dante, and while you don't wish for their deaths, it still leaves a sour taste in your mouth when you see them on the news, with their parents crying about how sweet and kind they were.

You don't even know how to feel about Dante anymore. Maybe he is a good person, who really is doing the world a favor, but it's just not worth the risk to associate with him.

Except he isn't going to leave you alone.

Still though, you decide that ignoring him until he just leaves you alone.

Which proves difficult because sometimes he comes around and knocks on your door every so often, to drop off food, and just check in on you and how you're doing.

Some days you wonder what might happen if you answer, or send a text. He did give you his phone number after all.

You fight the curious urge, until one day, when tiredly trudging home after a particularly awful day.

For some reason, you look around the streets for a black car following you, but find nothing of the sort.

You decide to go against your better judgment and decide to call Dante. You don't know why you're doing this, every instinct in your body is telling you to not do it.

The phone rings a few times, until an annoyed voice picks up. "What? I'm busy," he snaps.

"Oh, uh, sorry," you stutter. "I shouldn't have called, that was stupid of me—"

"Wait, no, I didn't—" Silence hangs in the air. "Sorry," Dante says softer this time. "Didn't know it was you at first. Is everything alright?"

Your fingers tap against the wood of the table nervously, trying to make up some sort of excuse to cover for the real reason you're calling him.

"Nothing, just... didn't have a good day." You feel so pathetic right now, too caught up in your own emotions to hear the muffled cries in the background on Dante's side of the call. "But that doesn't concern you, does it? Why am I saying this?"

"It's alright, kiddie. Whatever happened to make you upset is important to me." Dante is definitely smiling right now. "Well, listen. I was busy right now, but it can wait, so how's about I swing by wherever you are and you and I can spend some time together? Get somethin' to eat, maybe? Your choice."

You find it hard to decline him. "...okay. I'm not home right now though. Can I just call an Uber and meet you somewhere?" you suggest.

He snorts. "My driving so bad that you'd rather waste money than spend thirty minutes in the same vehicle as me?"

"No, it's not that. I just feel like I'll be intruding since you're busy, or something."

"Don't be silly. Just tell me where you are and I'll be there soon. Alright? Don't get into any suspicious vans or anything like that while I'm not there." He ends the call with that.

The next ten minutes or so you stand around awkwardly, watching as pedestrians pass by. Eventually though, Dante arrives, driving up beside you. He gestures for you to open the passenger door, which you oblige.

You climb inside, buckle your seatbelt, and turn toward Dante. "So...where are we going?"

He stares back at you for a brief second. "Depends. Where would you like to go?"

After some hesitation, you give your favorite restaurant, which he nods in acknowledgement to and begins to drive.

"Why was your day bad?" he asks. "Did something happen? Someone hurt you?" At the red light, he turns to give you a quick glance-over, searching for any bruises or cuts, most likely. You're not injured, though the concerned look on his face stays.

"No, I just haven't slept much lately," you mutter.

"Have you eaten today?" You look away from Dante as an answer, making him curse under his breath. "The biggest hazard to you is yourself, it seems." He shakes his head disapprovingly. "I'm glad you finally called me, by the way. Why'd you decide to do it now?"

You hesitate. "I was feeling lonely, I guess."

"Really? Is that all?" The light flicks to green again, and Dante continues to drive.

"...I didn't see you stalking me today. Normally I see your car following me everywhere."

His breath hitches. "And...that worried you?" Dante looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

You don't reply.

Soon the conversation dies out, and neither of you bother to start another one up.

He focuses on driving, while you distract yourself with counting the amount of trees along the sidewalk on the way to the destination.

When you two pull up in the parking lot, you expect there to be tension, but surprisingly enough, the silence between you two feels comfortable, safe almost. It's a nice change from the usual uneasiness.

Dante gets out first, and you follow. The bell of the restaurant dings when you both enter.

"How many?" the hostess asks politely.

"Two. Thank you," Dante says with a charming smile. To you, it's an obvious fake persona, but she buys it hook, line, and sinker. You roll your eyes discreetly as she leads you two to the booth. You sit on opposite ends, taking your menus from her before she heads off to take care of other customers.

You think about it, then settle for the cheapest thing on the menu, trying to avoid taking advantage of Dante's kindness.

He notices anyway. "I know I don't dress fancy, or anything, but I've got the cash, kiddo. If you want to order the whole menu, you could, and I'd still be able to afford it tenfold. Nothin' is too expensive for you."

"I..." Your face burns out of embarrassment. You flip through the menu once more. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am." Dante scans through his own menu, although half-heartedly, considering his focus is still mostly on you.

Once your orders are made, you both try making small-talk, which proves ineffective. Then your orders arrive, and that too, becomes awkward when he insists on helping you cut up your meal into smaller pieces.

You make a show out of being mad, though truthfully it isn't bothersome as you try letting on it is.

After dinner (which he pays for completely) he looks like he's contemplating on something in the car. "Would you like to come to my place, kiddo?"

"Like, your house?" you clarify.

Dante nods. "It's only fair. I know where you live, I figure it'd be polite showing you the same courtesy."

"Sure, but it depends if I'll leave alive," you joke, but part of you is still concerned about that.

"With the way you take care of yourself, I think staying with me might actually help increase your lifespan a little bit."

A few moments pass by, the two of you basking in the company of one another. It's...nice.

The drive to Dante's home is around thirty minutes long, and barely in the city, surprisingly enough. His house isn't anything super impressive, but it doesn't look bad either.

A very average, middle-class home. It's comforting to see Dante likes simple things, makes it easier to think of him as a normal person than the murderer you know he is.

He steps outside of the car and opens your door for you. You give him a questioning glance, but decide to ignore it for now, unbuckling and heading over to the porch with Dante trailing behind you.

"This is it," he states, pulling his keys out to unlock the door, beckoning you to go in before him.

The interior of his home isn't anything special either, which you enjoy seeing. It makes Dante seem more human. On top of that, it feels safe here, even if this is the last place it should feel this way. It does have a slightly annoying (and worrying) scent of bleach permeating throughout the house.

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Can I ask something? It might be a little weird or triggering, so..."

"You can ask me anything. Doesn't bother me," Dante says.

"Okay... are you so interested in me because I simply look like or act like your kid? I'm worried you expect me to act like them or something similar..."

Dante sighs heavily, sitting down on his couch, and motioning for you to join him. Hesitantly, you do so, staying silent while you wait for him to gather his thoughts.

"I know you're not them. Sure, you remind me a bit of them, but you're your own person, too. It's fine if you don't want to pretend you're anyone but yourself, y'know? That ain't what I'm looking for, and forcing someone to do that wouldn't make anyone happy." He mulls over his words for a moment. "I guess I just want to be a dad again. I felt useless after my kid died, so you gave me that opportunity again."

You look at the ground awkwardly. "Why couldn't you just adopt a kid?"

"A lot of money," Dante answers. "Not to mention not working anymore and not being married anymore makes adoption agencies wary. Plus, you looked like you needed protecting, so I wanted to do so. Now, my turn. Why'd you invite me out? Wanted to spend some time with your old man?" Dante laughs lightly, but his eyes show clear hopefulness.

"If you insist on acting like my father," you pause, taking in a breath, "then yes. I suppose that means I wanted to spend time with you. Is that okay?"

Dante looks almost ready to cry. His hands twitch at his sides. "'course it is," he mutters softly, barely containing himself from getting overly emotional.

You scoot closer to Dante, hesitating for only a few moments before wrapping your arms around him. "Thank you for inviting me into your home."

He reciprocates quickly, holding onto you like a lifeline, face buried in your hair. "I missed this so much..." His voice is choked-up as he holds you tighter to him. "My baby," Dante whispers.

You don't know why you're letting this happen, but you don't want to dwell on that. His embrace is more comforting than it should be, especially considering what he is. But if he wants to play pretend, to imagine he has a child again, you may as well let him.

Even if that means ignoring the faint noises from the basement, and pretending it's just someone next-door.

"I love you so much," he mutters. He almost sounds hysterical, even if his tone is quiet, almost a whisper. "Never leave me. I can't take that, kid. I can't."

You pretend to be asleep, just so you won't have to answer that. He sighs and only holds you tighter.