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gildedphoenix · 4 months

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Fire Escape - Dead on MAYn Day 1

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

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

AO3: Fire Escape Dead on MAYn Blog @deadonmayn

Fire Escape

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

This was definitely one of those bad days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

Danny returned to his homework while he waited.

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

Focus Danny!

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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tototalks · 3 months

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That’s a wrap on Prince’s Gambit!! 🥳 Let me tell you, there was not a SINGLE chapter of this book I didn’t adore. Absolutely stunning ♥️

Final thoughts! ✨ (Sorry for the length again 💀)

- Starting off strong with seeing Halvik and the awesome lady warriors again!! Halvik really saw the longest, prettiest, most luscious eyelashes on a man and knew it was an absolute waste. She is SO valid for that.

- Laurent is playing Game of Thrones 5D chess, and his mind terrifies and amazes me. His strategy and diplomacy with the reinforcements was absolute genius and this is why I need a Hamlet situation to happen with uncle dearest.

- Damen. Leather loincloth. That’s it. That’s the post. 🙂

- I love this weird point where Damen and Laurent both look at each other like “this is so clearly more than friends, but what the actual FUCK is this??”

- AIMERIC?! NO NO NO. FFS!! Omg I didn’t see that coming!! Why do I even bother getting attached anymore. I am the fool.😭

- Jord is breaking my fucking heart in two. I need good things to happen for him after this. He’s done nothing to deserve the betrayal, and that’s the phenomenal cruelty of it. Bad things happen to good people and there’s not shit you can do about it. ☹️

- BATTLE FOR THE PRINCE!!!! Man, I was ready to ride into battle with them! What an adrenaline kick of a scene!

- Damen was fully recognised, and yet, in the midst of it, there is MORE PAIN FOR JORD 🙃

- I am so happy that we get to see Erasmus and the living testament to the fact kindness is powerful.

- “I don’t like the Regent. He burned my leg!!” YOU TELL THEM BABE!! His revenge is so so sweet. Enjoy it, Erasmus♥️

- The kiss. Oh my stars, the kiss. That was the most angst promising, stunning, and oh-so-earned kiss made even more poignant by the fact I’m convinced Laurent KNOWS and is letting it happen anyway. If my suspicions are correct, he’s had to come to terms with the fact he’s fallen for the man who killed his brother. I am TERRIFIED for King’s Rising. 🙃

- Aimeric and Laurent, both very different victims. - “you attack those who can’t defend themselves” - Damen… bro… I love you but stop. But I like the fact we get to see that Laurent is not impenetrable. He’s cold and cunning but still human and deeply hurt.

- Damen and Laurent’s first time. Wow. Just wow. The layers to this scene. Laurent’s clear trauma associated with sex and Damen’s reassurance and honour. “How a man takes a boy?” “No. How a man takes a man.” You hear that? That’s the sound of my heart shattering further. Sex scene done RIGHT.

- “Nicaise would not see fifteen now.”… well there goes the last of my fucking heart. I am DEVASTATED. He deserved to live. If you hear sobbing coming from the general direction of Hong Kong, just know it was me. 🥲

- “I’m sorry, Jord” - C.S. Pacat. We are gonna have words. You cannot make a bad bitch like me cry this hard.

- The Regent and Kastor in kahoots. Ooooooh boy - it pains me that deep down I feel like Laurent wanted to prove to himself that Damen wasn’t special and goaded him into that punch to prove it, and yet Damen recognises the cycle of abuse and that BLINDSIDES Laurent.

- AKIELON REINFORCEMENTS??!!! NIKANDROS!!??

- Aaaaaaand there’s Damen’s secret blown to utter smithereens. Nice job, Nikandros lol

- And if all that wasn’t enough, chapter 19 1/2 killed me off for good, so long folks 💀

Let’s go, King’s Rising!! 👑 ⚔️

#captive prince #prince’s gambit #books #Toto reads

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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 1 year

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Girl im so humiliated asking for this but can we get a ProHero!Shirakumo x chubby fem reader smut..? Once again im so sorry i am so sorry i was ever born

You shouldn't apologize for liking Shirakumo!! He's a big baby, a golden retriever, he's so lovable

CW: chubby fem reader, good old fluff and smut

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"Hellooooooo my beautiful little honey bun!" Shirakumo exclaimed as he entered your apartment, a cloud floating behind him. You jumped from your place on the couch, shrieking.

"Oboro! Jesus, what did I tell you about barging in like that?! You scared the shit out of me!" Shirakumo laughed, kicking the door closed and locking it, bounding into your apartment.

"Sorry, sorry! I just can't help myself! I get so excited seeing you."

"Well, can you try being a little less excited so that you don't scare me next time?" He stopped by the couch and held up his hands.

"Okay, okay, I'll try. I'm sorry, snookums. Forgive me?" You huffed, sitting up and crossing your arms.

"I dunno... you'll have to make it up to me."

"Oh!" He clapped his hands, sticking his arm into his cloud. "I actually brought some stuff over." He started pulling things out and setting them on the coffee table. "I got drunken noodles from that place you like, some drinks from the convenience store, a little cake from that bakery you wanted to try, aaaaaaand some sake, in case you felt like partying."

"Bo. It's almost 11pm."

"So?"

"I was gonna go to bed."

Oboro pouted. "Awww, what? But I haven't seen you in a week! I wanted to hang out."

"I get that, baby, but it's so late. You should really sleep too. I bet you worked a twelve hour shift again, huh?" He gave a sheepish grin, dissipating his cloud.

"You know me so well, dontcha?" You shook your head, ultimately opening your arms to him. He smiled wide, crawling onto the couch and into your arms, sighing as he wrapped his arms around you. He nuzzled into your chest, humming when your fingers found his hair. "Missed you so much, pumpkin."

"I missed you too, silly billy." He huffed, squeezing your waist.

"I really, really missed you." You felt his hand palm at your hips and you smiled softly.

"Yeah? How much?"

"A lot. Missed you so bad." You hummed, cupping his cheeks and making him look at you.

"What'd you miss about me?"

"Everything," he sighed, moving forward to kiss at your neck. "Missed your smile, your laugh, your body."

"What'd you miss about my body?"

"Fuck, all of it. Missed your hips and thighs, your cute belly. Missed your boobies." You snorted.

"My boobies? What are you, twelve?"

"What? What's wrong with callin em that?"

"It sounds silly. Just say tits." Shirakumo rolled his eyes, moving his hand up your shirt.

"Fine. I missed your tits," he said as he squeezed your breasts, making you moan. "Happy?"

"I'll be happy if you suck on em." Oboro whined softly, pulling your shirt up over your breasts.

"Can you feed em to me?" he asked, eyes already hazy. You nodded, cupping your breast and moving it towards his mouth, gasping when he latched onto your nipple and began to suck. He moaned against your tit, eyes drooping as his tongue rolled around the perky bud. You let him suck on and knead your breasts for a while, watching him alternate between the two for a few minutes. You could feel him get hard against your leg, and you had to admit that it was making you wet.

"Hey," he breathed, pulling back from your breast, a trail of spit left behind, "can I taste you?"

You swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, if you want."

He mimicked your nod, coaxing you to lie back on the couch. He pulled off your shirt, peeling off your shorts and panties next. You watched him push your legs apart, his eyes gleaming when he saw your chubby cunt.

"You're so pretty," he whispered, leaning down, pulling your pussy lips back with his thumbs. He licked his lips as he admired the shade of your pussy, the faint sheen of slick that was building at your hole. He swallowed, dipping down to lick at your cunt, smiling softly when you shivered. His tongue slid down and circled your hole before moving up your cunt, lapping at your clit.

"Shit... feels good, Bo," you moaned after a couple of minutes of him eating you out.

"Yeah?" he asked, peeking up at you. "Ya like it?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, petting at his hair. "Wanna cum on your face." Shirakumo trembled at that, moaning before shoving his face back in your cunt, sucking at your clit. He ground his hips into the couch as he ate your pussy, licking up your growing wetness. Your legs tensed, thighs squishing against his cheeks as you grew closer to your peak. By the time you came, you were squeezing your legs shut, trapping Shirakumo against you, and god he loved it. He almost came from feeling you gush into his mouth, his cock throbbing in his pants. He eventually pulled away, mouth and chin wet because of you.

"Can we keep going?" he asked, itching to get his cock out. He sighed when you nodded, pulling off his jacket. He undressed in front of you, tossing his clothes to the floor before positioning himself between your legs. He stroked his cock a few times, pressing the head against your entrance, glancing up at you. You nodded, giving him permission to push forward, slipping his cock into you.

"God... You're so tight, Y/N."

"Yeah? Feel good?"

"Uh-huh," he replied, pulling out and pushing back in. "Missed this little pussy so much."

"I missed your cock," you moaned, reaching out to grab at his strong arms. "Missed having you inside me."

"Y-Yeah? Missed me that bad?"

"Uh-huh." You pulled him down to you, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Wish you didn't work so much."

"I'm sorry, baby," he sighed, pushing in deep before picking up speed. "I promise I'll do better. Won't work so much. Gonna spend more time with my pretty baby."

"You better," you moaned, kissing his cheek and jaw. Oboro groaned, tucking his face into your neck, moving faster, harder, fucking you the way you deserved. Your legs locked around his waist, keeping him close, his thrusts shallow. He placed open mouthed kisses along your neck and shoulder, licking your salty skin.

"You're so soft," he breathed, pressing his body against yours, his hand finding your stomach, palming at it. His touch made you moan, clench around him, cause him to stutter. His thrusts became ragged, uneven, and he hurriedly brought his hand to your clit to make you cum. He thumbed your clit quickly, making you pant and squeeze him harder.

"Gonna cum," you huffed, nails digging into his shoulders. "You're gonna make me cum."

"Then cum for me," he breathed. "Cum for me, please."

A few more strokes and you were tipping over the edge, back arching, sparks flying across your skin. You came hard, groaning gutturally, scratching at his back as he fucked you harder, chasing his high.

"Fuck, gonna c-cum. Where do you want it?"

"Where do you wanna cum, baby?" He swallowed, staring down at you.

"Your—on your tummy," he said hesitantly, waiting for your response. You smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"Then cum on my tummy, baby. I don't mind."

Shirakumo whined, thrusting erratically for a minute before pulling out, jerking his cock over your stomach. He came with a soft groan, his cum spurting out onto your tummy, even hitting your tits. He stroked himself until he grew too sensitive, letting go of his cock with a huff.

"Shit," he breathed, staring down at the mess he made. He leaned down and grabbed his shirt, using it to wipe off his cum. Once you were clean, he tossed his shirt back to the floor, collapsing on top of your tummy.

"Feel better?" you asked, massaging his shoulders.

"Yeah... I really needed that." He kissed along your belly as you played with his hair, nuzzling into your plump flesh. "Missed you so much."

"I missed you too, baby." He hummed, tucking his chin into your belly, smiling up at you.

"So... can I stay the night?" You giggled.

"Of course you can."

He closed his eyes and did a fist bump. "Yes."

───────────────

#ask #smut #shirakumo x reader #shirakumo oboro #chubby fem reader #fem reader #chubby reader #☀️ asks

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fanfoolishness · 24 days

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A Light in the Darkness

Written for the @summer-of-bad-batch prompts a light in the darkness and crashing hard. Crosshair and Mayday struggle through the frozen night, 1100 words. aaaaaaand... I think that's a wrap for my Overachiever status for the Summer of Bad Batch! Ahhh!

---

The cold bit into Crosshair’s fingers like a wild thing, savage and unrelenting. His hands throbbed. He tightened his grip around his Firepuncher with one hand, holding Mayday close with the other.

He took a step forward, then another, then another, boots dragging through shin-deep snow, Mayday staggering against him. He shifted, trying to prop Mayday up with a jut of his shoulder, and the other clone grunted in pain.

Crosshair swore under his breath. “Sorry,” he muttered, the word catching between chattering teeth. Had Mayday heard him through the wind? He couldn’t tell.

If only he was stronger, he could support Mayday with ease or carry him out, even through the snow. He hunched over, exhausted, with the effort of trying to keep Mayday going. Why couldn’t he be as strong as Wrecker —

He shook his head, grimacing. He wasn’t Wrecker, and he knew it.

He cast an anxious glance at Mayday, but saw only the other clone’s ice-limned helmet, inscrutable as ever. Mayday hadn’t truly spoken for hours; he’d only been able to utter the occasional groan of discomfort. He was still on his feet somehow, but all he could manage was to put one limping foot in front of the other, holding on weakly with his arm around Crosshair.

You can do this, Crosshair thought, though he wasn’t sure if he meant it for Mayday or himself.

The blue dark was oppressive, an endless vista broken up only by the pale snowy ground and the jagged hills, dark silhouettes looming above them. He should have been able to see where they were going, his night vision was exceptional, but the blast earlier had seared his eyes. Crosshair knew he wasn’t at his best now, between the blast and the cold and the blinding snow.

It was a truth that enraged him. Mayday deserved better. His loyalty had earned better.

Crosshair squinted until his head pounded, searching for any faint reflection that could indicate the direction of the base. He had coordinates and a rough idea of where they were, but in the howling blizzard those things meant little. If only the cave they’d traveled through was still accessible, but he knew they’d passed its narrow opening hours ago, likely blocked by the avalanche.

Tech could have found another way. Scanned the mountains and the snow, found a different path. But Crosshair didn’t know how to do that, and he could only keep going forward over the snow, dragging himself and Mayday through the vicious wind.

He let out a huff of breath, teeth clattering together with a violent shiver. There was a faint sense of pain, then the taste of blood. He’d accidentally bitten his tongue, and and it had been so numb he’d barely felt it. He spat bloody saliva into the wind.

He shook his head, pulling them forward, his Firepuncher disappearing into the snow with every step. Once he would have been horrified at the idea of using his weapon this way, without respect or care. But now that it was life or death, Mayday relying on him, he couldn’t care less.

He didn’t know how much longer he kept them both going. Time was immaterial; it no longer existed. There was only the keening wind, the breath ragged in his lungs, Mayday’s weight on his shoulder, the crushing cold, the ceaseless dark —

The dark —

He blinked. Narrowed his eyes. Focused. Hope rose within him, faint but real.

There it was, in the valley far below, a soft glow scarcely brighter than the surrounding blackness. He’d found the base.

The triumph that had flickered inside of him for a moment quickly faded. It was so far away. There was no way they could keep going on like this in the dark without rest. But if he stopped to rest, could Mayday start again?

Could Crosshair?

He shuddered with the agony of exhaustion. He’d have to chance it.

They’d reached an outcropping, a narrow spit of rock that provided a slight degree of shelter from the wind and snow. Crosshair sank against it, and Mayday followed, crashing hard to the ground. Crosshair braced himself to catch the other clone, softening the blow.

He pulled Mayday closer, wrapping his arm around him. He rested the Firepuncher across them both, as if its narrow frame could provide a hint of shelter, and Mayday leaned in against him.

Crosshair curled against him, shivering so violently it was hard to breathe. He winced painfully. He’d never felt cold like this before, cold so deep it hurt, cold that sank into every part of his body.

Maybe if he just tried to get some sleep —

But he could hear Hunter in the back of his mind. You can’t fall asleep. You’ll never wake up. That’s survival 101 for hostile environments.

Crosshair shook his head, pressing his face against the frozen cloth and duraplast of Mayday’s helmet. “We’re not far now,” he gasped through his shivering. “We’re gonna make it.”

”Crosshair,” Mayday breathed, barely audible through the wind and Crosshair’s shivering. “You don’t have to —“

”Yes, I do,” he snarled defiantly. “You’d do it for me.”

A pause. Had Mayday fallen asleep? Worse, had he —? Crosshair nudged him, then shook him, until he heard a noise he wasn’t expecting: a dry, sarcastic chuckle. For a moment, he sounded like Echo.

”You’re stubborn,” Mayday wheezed. “I’ll grant you that.”

”You have no idea,” Crosshair bit out. He screwed his eyes shut against the snow and the wind, the flicker of hope still lashing fitfully within his chest. If Mayday could laugh at a time like this, maybe he’d make it after all.

The night kept on, endless, eternal. Ice formed on his eyelashes, his brows, the short stubble of his head and chin. He hadn’t felt his ears or nose for hours. His hands were nearly frozen into blocky hooks. But he forced his eyes open, blinking away the snow on his face. The dark was drifting into the rich blues and violets of the deepest night, the snow shifting from massive flakes to fine powder, the wind slowly dying.

Crosshair gazed into the waning night and saw it clearly now, a light in the darkness. He coughed, shaking Mayday awake. He clambered achingly to his feet, then used the Firepuncher to brace himself and get Mayday up and standing. Crosshair pressed the rifle into Mayday’s hand to use as a crutch, closing Mayday’s fingers around it.

“Come on,” Crosshair rasped. “We can make it.” You have to make it.

“If you say so,” Mayday mumbled. He sank into Crosshair’s shoulder, and the brothers staggered forward into the snow.

#the bad batch #summerofbadbatch2024 #summer of bad batch #star wars #crosshair bad batch #mayday bad batch #the outpost #my batcher fic

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balanceoflightanddark · 9 months

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(Azula cries hysterically in the corner, causing the Gaang to check up on her) Aang: ...Azula...you okay? Azula: Wouldn't YOU like to know. (Sokka leans over to Katara, shielding his mouth) Sokka: (whispers) I didn't think she could cry. Katara: Shhh! Aang: Well, maybe if you told us, we could help? Azula: What?! Admit that I lost my mind when I figured out that the group who've run circles around my country, the ones who my brother called tactical geniuses were a bunch of losers who played hopscotch and went out of their ways to ride every animal in sight?!?! Toph: ...is that an insult or... Azula: And then you wonder "how could we keep losing to them", then you begin to see that the entire war is run by incompetent morons and you didn't see it till now!!! (Azula breaks down sobbing again) Azula: A DRILL?!?! WHAT IDIOT THOUGHT THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA?!? AND WHO'S EVEN STUPIDER FOR GOING ALONG WITH IT?!?! (The Gaang look awkwardly at each other...before Toph busts out laughing) Toph: I don't know what's funnier! That fact that Prince Groucho thought you guys were smart, or the fact that it took you (points to Azula) THIS long to realize that your brother's full of it! (Azula chuckles a little) Azula: I mean, yeah. I...guess I should've seen that coming. (Katara and Aang glare at Toph's laughing while Sokka comes over and wraps a consoling arm around Azula) Sokka: Hey, it's okay. I know what it's like to be the only smart one in the room. (Katara and Aang proceed to turn their glares at Sokka) Katara: ...what did you just say? Sokka: (shrugs) I say we shouldn't go to a Fire Nation festival and what do we do? Go to a Fire Nation festival. AAAAAAAND almost get run out of town. Aang and Katara: SHADDAP!!!!!!

#azula #princess azula #aang #avatar aang #sokka #katara #toph #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla incorrect quotes #incorrect quote #atla shitpost #azula shitpost

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sissylittlefeather · 1 year

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Aaaaaaand....

A Very Quiet Life: Chapter 3

A/N: Part 3 of the AU where Elvis is your next door neighbor in the suburbs in the late '60s. This one is a long chapter, but it HEATS UP, my friends, so stay with me. Parts 4 & 5 are also written, so they'll be posted soon as well!

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, Minors DNI! There's mention of an injury (non-violent), reader is a widow, cussing, then the dirty stuff like oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, etc.

Link to Chapter 1

Link to Chapter 2

I hope it is worth the wait! ❤️

Song inspo (in case you forgot)

Gif inspo (because why not?)

You should be careful what you wish for.

******

Two weeks after the popsicle incident, as you've been calling it in your head, you're out front with your kids while they play in the sprinkler. You can't believe how hot it still is in mid-September. You're seriously considering getting in the sprinkler yourself when you see Elvis walk into his yard to water his grass. He's mowed your lawn twice since the incident, but you haven't let him come inside. You don't trust yourself to be alone with him and he always seems to choose a time when you are alone. He waves and smiles and you return the gesture. You wish you didn't notice how good he looks today, but you've got on sunglasses, so you let your eyes wander. He has his short sleeves rolled up and he's wearing blue jeans that fit his ass perfectly. You're no longer sweating because of the heat. The sun is starting to go down, though, so it's a perfect excuse to gather your kids and go inside. As you look back at them, Michael jumps over the sprinkler. His feet hit the wet grass and slide out from under him. He hits the ground hard, landing on his wrist. He lets out a blood-curdling scream and your heart stops. You're out of your chair in seconds, running over to him. Somehow, Elvis beats you to him and scoops him up off the ground.

"Go get your keys! We need to go to the ER!" He calls to you while Michael screams in his arms. His wrist is bent in a way that makes your stomach turn. You sprint back into the house and grab your purse and your shoes. In seconds, you're back out the front door. Elvis is holding Michael close, leaning against the hood of your car, and rocking him gently. He's stopped screaming. Jane is crying quietly next to Elvis, holding onto his shirt. As you get closer to them you hear his voice. He's singing to Michael. If the circumstances were any different, the tender scene would warm your heart. His voice is smooth and silky and it hits you in all your soft places. But you're too worried about Michael to think about anything else. You unlock the car door and Elvis slides into the back seat with both kids. You jump in the driver's seat and try to start the car. Your hands are shaking, though, and you struggle.

"Take a deep breath, honey, we're okay."

His voice is steady and calm. You do as he says, breathe deeply, and start the car.

******

In the emergency room, you hold Michael and Elvis holds Jane while you check out. You've been there for over three hours and both kids are wiped out. Michael has a new blue cast on his wrist that's wrapped loosely around your neck. He's still awake, but just barely. Jane is asleep on Elvis's shoulder, snoring quietly. You finally get back out to your car and softly lay both kids in the backseat.

"I can drive." You nod at Elvis and toss him your keys. You're exhausted too. You slide into the passenger seat and start the drive home. It takes you a good five minutes to realize you're holding his hand. Or maybe he's holding your hand. Either way, your fingers are interwoven on the seat between you. It's comfortable and intimate in a way you haven't experienced since your husband died. You know you shouldn't be doing it, but you're too tired to care. He's been so kind and helpful today. It was nice to not be alone through this. You look up at him. His profile is beautiful with the streetlights shining in the windows.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do all this today." He looks at you and smiles.

"I really don't mind. I'm just glad he's okay."

"How are you so good with children?" He shrugs.

"I don't know. I've always been like this. I teach piano and guitar lessons and most of my clients are kids. I just think they have the best view of the world." That's why he's always home during the day. He works there.

"You didn't want kids of your own?" That question probably crosses a line, but with his hand in yours it feels like you can ask anything. Still, his face darkens and he looks out the window.

"I did. My wife did not."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." You start to pull your hand away, but he tightens his grip on your fingers.

"No, it's okay. I don't mind." He looks at you again with a sad smile. "She works a lot. She's one of the only women in her office, so she didn't want to be held back by having kids." It's weird to talk about her while you're holding her husband's hand. "I just wish she'd told me before we got married." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice when he says the last part.

You ride quietly for the last bit of the drive. He pulls the car up to the front curb and gets out to help you carry the kids inside. Once they're both safely settled in bed, you drop onto your couch and burst into tears. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, the fear and pain and tiredness of the day win out and you fall apart. Elvis sits next to you and puts his arm around you, letting you cry on his shoulder.

"There ya go, honey, let it out. I know today was a lot." He kisses the top of your head and strokes your hair. After a few more minutes of crying you're able to pull yourself together a bit and you look at the clock on the mantle. You sit up straight.

"It's almost midnight! Isn't your wife going to wonder where you are?!" He looks at his shoes for a moment, like he's trying to decide whether he should be honest, and then looks back at you.

"She's on a business trip. I can stay as long as you need me." Your stomach does a flip flop. As long as you need him.

His eyes are so blue as they flick down to your mouth and back up to your eyes. He puts his hand on the side of your face and caresses your cheek with his thumb, wiping away any remnants of tears. Your heart beats so hard and fast that you're pretty sure he can hear it.

Slowly, carefully, he leans in and touches his lips to yours. Lightening shoots through you straight out to your fingertips and he kisses you softly again. The third time he kisses you, his mouth is open and he parts your lips too. You let his tongue slide into your mouth and send yours to match his movements. His hand moves back to your hair and he holds you closer for a more passionate kiss. After a few minutes, he pulls you onto his lap, straddling him, with his hands on your hips. You press your body against his and kiss him so intensely that you start to get lost in him. He loses control too and slides both hands up under your shirt and bra, cupping your breasts and squeezing them gently. You pull your shirt off over your head and he reaches behind your back to undo your bra. He kisses your shoulder and then moves back to the center kissing you along your collarbone. You throw your head back as he grazes his lips down to your nipple. His two hands cover almost all of your back as he sucks and nibbles your chest. You feel his erection between your legs, pushing into you where you want him the most. You lift his shirt and pull it over his head, exposing the soft patch of hair on his chest. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a deep kiss, your naked skin pressed up against his.

You back away from him and slink down to the floor between his knees. You reach up to unbutton his pants and free his erection from his jeans. His dick is perfect. You slide his foreskin down, exposing the tip, and run your tongue around it softly. He groans and leans his head back on the couch. Then he looks back at you, watching while you work your mouth on him, taking him in as much as you can until he hits the back of your throat.

"Fuckkk, y/n..." he moans as you continue to lick and suck him. Hearing him say your name like that makes you even wetter than you already are. You pull him fully into your mouth again and then slide your tongue in a small circle around the head. You lick slowly up and down him a couple of times and then back off of him. He opens his eyes when you stop and watches you stand up and slide your pants down. You hope he won't notice how wet your panties are, but he immediately does.

"This all for me, baby?" He asks as he reaches his hand out and touches your panties. You nod as he begins to rub circles on you. Then, he slides your panties to the side and pushes his finger into you. He pulls your hips closer to him and switches from one finger to two, moving them in and out and tickling inside you. You groan and shudder around his hand. Just when you can't stand it anymore, he pulls his fingers out.

"Lay down, honey." He guides your hips down to the couch and lays you back, slipping your panties off and positioning himself between your legs. He lowers his head down and pushes his tongue into your slit. You gasp and arch your back as he continues to lick your sensitive bud around in circles, then left and right over the top, stopping periodically to push his tongue back into you. Your orgasm is building inside you as electricity gathers in your center. He continues to lick and tongue-fuck you until you feel like you might explode.

"Come for me, baby." He whispers it into you and the vibration of his voice throws you over the edge as he flattens his tongue against you one more time. You do exactly as he tells you to and shiver and pulse as the waves of pleasure crash into you over and over again until he finally stops licking you.

He climbs back up your body and kisses your neck while you lay under him breathing heavily. You haven't been able to say much this whole time, but now you find your voice and speak softly into his ear.

"Fuck me, Mr. Presley." He groans and stands up to remove his pants completely. For a moment, he stops, and just looks at you laying there naked. You worry that he's having second thoughts or thinking about his wife. Before you can say anything, though, he smiles.

"You're fucking beautiful." You sit up and pull him down on top of you.

"I noticed it the first time I saw you through that window." So he did see you. He lines himself up with your entrance and teases you a bit with his tip.

"I've been dreaming of this ever since." He thrusts deeply and plunges his dick into you as far as it'll go, filling you entirely.

"Oh my godddddd" you moan as he pumps in and out of you.

"You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet for me. I fucking love it." He kisses your neck and shoulder. You continue to fuck in this position for a good while, both of you reveling in the satisfaction of finally getting what you want.

Eventually, you push him backwards off of you into a siting position. You straddle him again and lower yourself onto him until he fills you up. You whimper and moan again at the feeling of his length hitting the sensitive spot inside of you. As you slide up and down on him, you feel another climax building. You bounce wildly with his hands on your back guiding your movements. You stop and roll your hips, pushing him as deep as he can go. You want to feel every inch of him. He holds you still for a second and looks into your eyes.

"Can I...? Should I pull out?" He asks tentatively.

"No." Fuck it. "Come inside me. I need to feel you." He groans again as you continue to fuck him with everything you've got. Your own orgasm is so close; you don't want to stop. Every pump brings you to the edge until he lifts his hips under you and you slam down onto him one last time.

"Oh fuck yes y/n!" He yells as you tumble into oblivion with him, the unimaginable pleasure filling every part of you. Your legs begin to shake as you lay your forehead on his shoulder. You sit there for a bit, trying to catch your breath. He wraps his arms around you and kisses you playfully.

"Can I stay?"

"The kids wake up really early..."

"I promise I'll be gone before they even think about it." You secretly wish he could be there when they wake up, like a normal family. But he's not their father. He has a wife. You climb off of him and try to walk to the bathroom. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to his lap, wrapping himself around you again.

"I just want to be close to you as long as possible." He kisses your shoulder and any resolve you had about sending him home melts.

"Come get in the bed." He smiles a wide and relaxed smile and puts his boxers back on. He picks up his T-shirt and pulls it down over your head, so that you're wearing it. Then, he follows you into the bedroom and crawls into your bed. You go to the bathroom and get some new panties to sleep in. You leave his shirt on, though, because you love that it smells like him. When you get in the bed, he pulls you close to him and wraps his arms around you. You haven't slept with a man in your bed in a long time. It feels nice. He feels nice.

How are you going to keep yourself from getting used to this?

******

Chapter 4 coming soon!

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

Taglist:

@itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101 @ccab @suxny @hernameisnoellex3 @ashtag6887 @arabellapresley @littlehoneyposts @dkayfixates

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know!

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theocddiaries · 16 days

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[IN THE LIVING ROOM, WRAPPING GIFTS. AMY IS LISTENING TO A RECORDING FROM A BOOK WITH A BIG SMILE ON HER FACE] [Recording]. Rouge: "And then Papa Bear said"… Shadow: "Baby and I are going fishing." Amy: This is such a precious gift. Sonic: I know. I can't believe Team Dark would sit down and do this for Cream. It's cool. [Recording]. Rouge: Shadow, pay attention. It's your line. Shadow: I just had a damn line. Ugh… Omega, freshen this up for me. Rouge: No! No more drinks until we finish this. Shadow: Who cares? That control freak of Amy's just gonna return it anyway when she thinks we're not looking! Sonic: Aaaaaaand cue gasp. Amy [Gasps dramatically].

#incorrect sonic quotes #sonic incorrect quotes #sth #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #amy the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #team dark #modern family

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kirans-wonderland · 2 years

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If the Shoe Fits I'll Steal it~

Just a silly goofy idea I had at an ungodly hour of the night. Idk what this party is for but it's happening and you're participating. Not proofread. No beta we die like men.

~~~~~~

The ball was going off without a hitch, of course it was, you had planned it fu crowley. Food? check. Music? check. Dancing? uh sort of. Everything was set you could finally relax and enjoy the party. I mean, you didn't get all dressed up for nothing.

*brinnggggggggg*

Taking out your phone you saw Deuce's name roll across the screen.

"hey De-"

"Y/N YOU NEED TO COME QUICKLY ACE STOP MOVING ITS AN EMERGENCY GRIM NO THATS NOT HELPING RAMSHACKLE HURRY NOO-"

Well there goes your chance at enjoying the party. Seriously how hard is it to get one night's peace. Leaving the party you began to run. Whatever the problem was, it sounded quite serious. In your haste, you lost a shoe. Oh well, you can always go back and retrieve it later, your friends were more important right now.

Little did you know that a certain eel had noticed your quick exit. "Hmmm~ where's shrimpy going?" He folllowed behind noticing the shiny thing you had left in your wake. "OoOoOoOoOoO" aaaaaaand now he's running away. With your shoe.

He's a different breed of prince charming.

The next day the shoe is (obviously) not where you left it. Great. Just great. These were the shoes Crewel gave you. You scoured the area and asked around if anyone had seen it but nothing turned up. You decided to check with the information central of the school, the Mostro Lounge, more specifically it’s manager. (Azul is a gossip pls I will not back down on this)

Azul listened to your query intently but then chuckled. “That sounds more like an RSA problem… but if your issue is shoes, I’d ask our resident shoe expert, Floyd.” Oh dear why him. Your day was already bad enough.

*knock knock* “Floyddd it’s y/n can I come in?”

You’ve never seen a door open faster, and the speed you were pulled into a hug would give anyone whiplash. “SHRIMPYYYY~ You came to visit~” “Yeahmpf” you said muffled into his chest. He kept hugging. You had to hit his arm to let him know you were dying of suffocation. Maniacally giggling he let you go. “SooOoO~ Watcha need?” Regaining all breath you had just lost “well I’m looking for my shoe and I’ve been told you’re the expert” His eyes widened in excitement as he dragged you through the door of his room. “Would it happen to look something like this~” he gestured to shelves on his walls, on which there were shoes. (Yes he’s that guy) Right in the center was your fancy shoe. “Floyd….” “ Yes shrimpy?” He grinned “You TOOK my shoe!?” “uh huh!” “That’s… really weird.” You tried to reach on your tippy toes for the shoes on the high shelf but before you could grab them, Floyd wrapped his arms around you from behind and picked you up. “Nope! You’re not getting it back that easily~” “Floydddd” you whined not even trying to protest his grasp, you were literally off the ground. He flopped down onto his bed with you still locked into his embrace. “If you can escape my squeeze~ you can have the shoe.”

You should just accept your fate now.

~~~~~

Thank you for reading!

@eel-slime-supremacy for your Floyd brainrot

#twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd x y/n #twst imagines #twst scenarios #kirs writing desk

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gt-jar · 2 months

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8 for the story ideas

8. John & Noah: Human AU

This is something I'll definitely write some day, maybe not in the near future, but eventually I will I SWEAR!

I think this one is pretty self-explanatory, but in case it isn't.

In this story John will be a human and Noah will be a borrower. And the story takes place in the modern world. Also Noah is going to be a bit younger.

As a reminder, in "Two Worlds among the Stars" Noah is 15 and in this AU he'll be 11 oder 12.

As for the plot:

Noah, who would've guessed, doesn't have parents anymore. A surprise, I know. But unlike in "2WATS", the loss is more recent.

Noah got separated from them (don't know if Noah's dad sticked around in this one yet) while they were moving. Now on his own, Noah does what his parents told him to do in this case.

Find a safe house and wait for them there. (He's been waiting for maybe a month, when he and John meet for the first time, and while he's still hopeful, deep down he knows that the won't come back.)

The house/apartment Noah finds shelter in is, again who would've guessed, John's.

It's perfect for borrowering:

- only one human

- no kids

- no pets

- leaves the house for several hours

- goes to bed early

But like in every borrower story, the borrower gets caught eventually :)

Noah's doom is...

The sink

Noah falls in during one night and can't get out on his own and as John gets ready for work (suggestions for what John's job would be in the modern world?) he finds him still stuck there in the morning.

John, just like in "2WATS", has NO IDEA what to do and is utterly overwhelmed with the situation, cause FUCK! THERE'S A TINY CHILD INSIDE HIS SINK!

And because John doesn't wanna be late for work (and his brain is having kind of a meltdown) he has a short circuit reaction.

He puts a tea towel in the sink so Noah can climb out on his own.

After that their lifes go on relatively normal, except Noah can't wrap his head around the fact that a human let im go, and John is doing internet research (I really like the idea that John's mom read "the borrowers" to him and his sister when they were children).

Soon...ish? The next sink incident happens (don't really care if that makes sense or not)

Noah goes out to borrow during the day and falls in the sink again, except this time it's filled with water.

And Noah being a borrower can't swim :)

He manages to keep himself afloat for some time, but his strenth is fading fast and he starts to panic.

The situation gets a little worse until John finally comes home.

Noah, who's seconds away from drowning, screams ("screams" is a little exaggerated, cause there's not enough air inside his lungs to really scream) for help when he hears John enter the apartment.

One near-death experience later, John is sitting on his sofa with one sleeping borrower (wrapped in a tea towel) in his arms (Noah passed out from exhaustion).

Now the unthinkable happens:

John lets Noah go AGAIN!

Why you might ask? Well... John thinks there's no way someone as small and young as Noah is on his own. There have to be parents or some kind of adults around to take care of him. There's no way the kid managed to survive on his own for that long. Right?

Right...

John puts him on the kitchen counter and doesn't leave his bedroom until he's certain Noah woke up and left.

Meanwhile, Noah is losing his mind.

This human let him go not only one but TWO TIMES! This goes against everything he has been taught! He wants to know what this human is up to, so against his better judgement...

He activly seeks John out. He's on top of the fridge or something where John can't reach him, but he's willing revealing himself to a human.

And then they have a conversation.

Aaaaaaand the rest is a mystery :)

You'll have to wait unil I write this story for real.

Or you can ask more questions about it, that works too. It's a neat little trick to make writers reveal more of their storys. It works most of the time ;)

#giant/tiny #g/t #g/t community #ask #parental g/t #g/t writing #OC: John #OC: Noah

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inkstainedhandswithrings · 5 months

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TBB s3 ep 14

Only one more to go after this, we ready!? (no, pls help)

Yes Hunter, how IS Echo gonna get off the ship?

Oh I see we’re just gonna let him wing it and do it on his own?

Like don’t get me wrong I have full faith in Echo I just don’t like how Hunter is so focused on Omega he doesn’t even try to find a way to help out Echo

He also doesn’t listen to Crosshair’s remark about the Jungle being dangerous

Love how Omega is like “oh base on high security alert? Multiple explosions? it’s my brothers!!”

I swear Rampart and is constant bitching is so tiring

HAHAHAHAHHAH THE BITCH SCREAMS LIKE A CHILD

Gaaaahh Cross talking about his first time on Tantiss

His hand tremor acting up

Poor baby I love him give him a hug

“…but Omega didn’t leave me behind when she could have. I owe her.”

Bro just say you love your baby sisters like it’s not that big a deal we already knew

The utter fucking relief I felt when Echo made it off that ship unharmed

Jesus, I am so scared that we might,,,

Okay I don’t wanna jinx it so I’m just gonna say “scared that the writers pull another Tech”

Aaaaaaand Rampart’s bitchiness got them a) attacked by a giant beast and b) discovered by imperial troops

I hate him so much

Emerie not only recognising Echo but immediately volunteering to help?

She’s growing on me tbh

Is Omega gonna free the Zillo? To get out? Like as a distraction?

Idk that seems kinda dangerous girly

wait wtf that’s it???

That was already 20mins?

I wasn’t ready for the end there I though we were gonna get more😪

Tbh, I think it felt so short because they had to fit three storylines into twenty minutes. I really wish they were allowed 40 minute episodes, then they could’ve really done a deep dive into all three moving parts of this episode. Like at this point it’s not the writers or show runners fault, it’s just that they probably didn’t get the budget to make their episodes that long, which rlly sucks but like,,, ya can’t be mad.

But! I honestly still don’t understand how ALL OF THIS is gonna get wrapped up in 1 more episode. Like how? Genuinely, how?

On the one hand, that makes me worry that the last episode is gonna be super rushed and feel unfinished or whatever but on the other hand it gives me hope that we’re gonna get another show. Because we still don’t know how Gregor, Rex and Wolffe ended up on Silos (?) alone, what happened to their rebellion, where the entirety of the batch went, what the hell Echo Base on Hoth is all about, who tf CX-2 is and Hemlock and Rampart are still alive also?? Which seems like an oversight.

AND all the clones still need to be busted out of Tantiss and relocated and why am I getting the feeling that Tantiss is just gonna blow up with everyone still there and that’s the reason why Rex gives up SHIT FUCK DAMNNIT

Anyway, point being!! This can’t end well any way you slice it. Lovely.

I will say that all in all I did like this episode!! Rampart getting panic attack after panic attack was rlly fun, we got a heart to heart between Wrecker and Crosshair (brief as it was), Echo again proofed why he is an ARC Trooper and why, after the apocalypse and the explosion of the galaxy he will still be standing, and Omega showed us once again that she is a far cry from that scared kid in season 1 and has instead turned into a sharp, competent, mini soldier (lets not talk about the fact that she’s essentially been turned into a child soldier out of pure necessity)

Anyway!! Good stuff, I am terrified of the finale!! Hope y’all enjoyed!! Thanks for reading!! See you next week when I try not to have a breakdown!!

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catbatart · 2 years

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AAAAAAAND a smattering of other minis I've painted this past month. Not NEARLY all of them! Just some of my favorites!

For context, I have a big box of miniatures that I like but don't have immediate plans for. I wrapped them all up in bubble wrap so I can't see them. Then when I feel the itch, I reach in and grab a random one.

This takes a LOT of the pressure off and leaves me free to experiment with them. Lately I've been trying hard to focus on speed rather than getting really caught up in the details.

#mini painting #miniature painting #dnd miniature #dnd minis #dungeons and dragons #warhammer #painting miniatures

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netherzon · 8 months

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Don't Ask (Cake)

@hws-anthology

Here is my contribution to the Anthology! Its gerame (again), but I challenged myself to write Monika/Amelia this time.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 5390

CW: some cursing

Amelia and Monika can both be very stubborn. Once they’ve decided something, it can be hard to change their mind. On this day, they will settle the ultimate debate: is zucchini bread ‘bread’? Also, can you make chocolate cake with sauerkraut?

It was a lovely morning in Heidelberg, Monika’s favorite kind. She had time to sit on her balcony with her morning coffee and people watch in the square below. Cafes began setting out tables and chairs. Students rode by on their bikes. A farm truck arrived to set up their fresh asparagus stand.

The air was cool, but her coffee mug kept her warm as she watched, silently absorbing everything. The gentle wind ruffled her hair, and she pulled as much as she could into her lungs. Even as she exhaled that individual breath, she hoped she could carry with her the calm she felt from it for as long as possible.

Maybe it could be a source of strength for the day she was about to have.

She had fifteen more minutes of this before her company woke up. They were both morning people, but their approaches to the morning were very different. Monika reveled in the time she had between fully asleep and fully awake. After she was alert enough to make coffee, but not before she remembered all the important emails she probably had waiting for her. It was a kind of refuge.

Her girlfriend felt the opposite. Amelia resented feeling unproductive, especially when she was awake and moving around. She was convinced that if she was alert enough to walk in a straight line and remember where the coffee maker was, she should be able to get work done. In practice, this wasn’t true. Amelia’s solution was to pretend the middle ground didn’t exist anyway.

She had left the balcony door open behind her, so her view was unobstructed when Amelia decided to slide into the adjacent kitchen on her socks, still in her sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

“You almost knocked over my philodendron,” Monika says affectionately.

“Mornin’ to you too, darlin,” Amelia smiles, and wraps her arms around Monika’s shoulders. With most people, this would be a gentle move. One you do slowly, sensually, sweetly. Amelia manages to make it feel like a running jump hug, the kind that knocks over reuniting couples at the airport. She leans over Monika, her weight pressing down on her shoulders so they sway back and forth together. Monika thinks it's equally sweet. Despite being 25 cm shorter than Monika, Amelia’s hug feels like a weighted blanket.

Until Amelia leans down to Monika’s ear and whispers, “Do you remember what day it is?”

Monika pretends she doesn’t hear her, breathing in the strawberry scent of Amelia’s shampoo.

“I know you heard me, babe,” Amelia kisses her hair, “you know what day it is.”

“April 25th,” Monika says.

“Aaaaaaand?” Amelia prompts as she moves towards the kitchen.

“It’s a Tuesday?”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand?” Amelia prompts again, louder this time. Monika sighs as she watches her girlfriend grab a travel mug from the cupboard.

“And nothing,” she says firmly, “there is nothing else to make this day significant here.”

Amelia is unphased by Monika’s stalling, “Oh ho ho, but at my house there is!” She’s beaming as she fills the mug with coffee.

Monika groans. Amelia slides back towards the bedroom, probably to get dressed.

“What holiday is it?” she calls back.

Monika holds firm. “National Zucchini Cake Day!” she yells.

“It’s Zucchini Bread Day!” Amelia rushes back, already wearing a polka dot dress. Her arms are crossed in an X. She’s pouting.

“That’s disputed,” is all Monika says. As she passes by to get ready herself, she makes sure to lean down and give Amelia a kiss.

They really only need zucchini from the store, but they like to go over the whole recipe anyway. Monika has most of the ingredients already because she uses them often, so they agree there’s no harm having more.

“All purpose flour, though?” she asks, “You’re sure we don’t need bread flour?”

Amelia shoots her a dirty look. “You can make bread with the normal amount of gluten, too,” she says, “you can even make it gluten free!”

Monika is enjoying this, though. “I’m telling you, calling it bread is an insult to bread. Real bread is raised with yeast, not baking soda.”

“You were raised with yeast,” Amelia shoots back indignantly.

Monika brings a finger to her chin, “I suppose. I was raised with yeast in my bread, that is true.” She smiles at her girlfriend grabbing a bag of chopped walnuts and some packets of baking powder.

Amelia stands proud, chin raised, shoulders back. It’s a move she’s pulled off many times at nation meetings. Despite her being relatively short among their kind, she’s never had trouble making her presence known. However, standing here in this Rewe, with her arms full of the core pillars of most baking recipes, her posturing is unbearably cute. “I cannot allow zucchini bread to be defamed on its national holiday,” she says, as seriously as she can manage outside of international affairs. Her mouth twitches the way it does when she’s trying very hard not to smile.

“Of course not, and I would hate to cause offense.” Monika walks serenely down the aisle, turning her nose up a bit as she passes Amelia. Amelia’s lips twitch harder.

Perhaps the bait was a little too good. Suddenly Amelia drops everything in her arms to lift Monika up in a bear hug. The bag of flour explodes a little on the floor. Everything else is mostly fine. Monika laughs out of surprise at first, and keeps laughing at the absurdity. Why or how, logical consistency, they lost their meaning when Amelia was in a good mood. They get some odd looks, and Monika would normally care more, but Amelia is completely unconcerned and Monika is laughing too hard. They are too happy to care how they look to other people.

There are relatively few hiccups on the way back to Monika’s apartment, but they have begun debating chemical leavening versus yeast again. It is the central debate of this entire experiment. Can something be called bread if it doesn’t use yeast? Is zucchini bread really bread?

“I would argue yeast leavening is a kind of chemical leavening though,” Amelia waves her hand between them as Monika searches for her loaf pans, “I mean us too — well maybe not us us — but organic life like yeast has chemical reactions goin on all the time. Yeast fermenting starch to create gas is chemical. Ergo, yeast is a chemical leavening agent just as much as the baking powder in zucchini bread is.”

“While that is objectively correct,” Monika says slowly, “I would argue then that perhaps it should be called “artificial leavening” instead of chemical. Yeast is an organic method, while baking powder and sodium bicarbonate are inorganic. None of that changes the fact that the different results produced by these methods are how we categorize cakes versus breads. The taste, the texture. They are not the same.”

They’ve gone in these circles before, but today is different. Today will be the first time Monika tries zucchini “bread” for herself. Today, this debate ends. One way or another.

They probably should’ve picked up another pan at the store though.

Amelia looks at the one loaf pan Monika has laid out beside the ingredients, “Alright, you have to have more of these. I coulda sworn you had five or six at least. What’s up?”

Monika sighs, “Julchen.”

This immediately piques Amelia’s interest. Those two were so alike sometimes. Too alike. Monika is sure that if Amelia had been there for Julchen’s scheming that day, she would’ve wholeheartedly gone along with it. Even now she is wary of giving Amelia new ideas by telling this story.

“What did she do?” Amelia asks with wide-eyed curiosity.

Monika looks at her suspiciously, but Amelia will just ask Julchen anyway if Monika avoids the question. “She tried baking gummy bears into bread. Predictably, the sugar burned and ruined my pans.”

“What’d she do that for?” Amelia asks with glee, “Was it for a pun?”

“It was for a pun,” Monika sighs, weary of the world and its tribulations.

“What was the pun?” Amelia bounces on the balls of her feet.

Monika sighs again. Julchen had a creative mind, and Monika admired that about her sister, but she could also get easily carried away.

“She wanted to call it ‘Haribrötchen’,” the words feel heavy coming out of her mouth. So many other solutions that didn’t end with the decimation of Monika’s baking pans. It wasn’t even the right sized pan for that pun to make sense, which only added insult to injury.

Amelia’s shoulders shake with laughter, “Damn, I wish it worked, that sounds hilarious and delicious.”

“It made the apartment smell like burnt sugar for days,” Monika replies.

“And you couldn’t pretend you just overcooked some caramel a little?” Amelia is teasing, but it makes Monika blush. She made caramel candies the very next day to distract herself from the smell. Amelia smirk becomes something more sincere, able to read Monika’s embarrassment easily.

“Damn, you really did, didn’t you? That’s adorable. You’re adorable,” Amelia punctuates this statement by reaching out for Monika’s hand and kissing her fingers repeatedly.

Monika fights a smile, “This is serious business, Schnecke. Today we are going to prove you are wrong about the taxonomy of baked goods. I will not be distracted by your charm.” She holds fast to Amelia’s hand despite that.

The recipe itself is simple. And it describes the end product as ‘cake-like’. Amelia quickly scrolls past that before Monika can see.

“Just like I remembered. Mix the dry ingredients, mix the wet ingredients, combine, add the zucchini and whatever, then bake. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy!”

Monika watches her across the table. She had on a headband to hold her bangs out of her face. Tufts of hair stick out at funny angles. It makes Amelia want to run her fingers through Monika’s hair even more than usual. Monika’s bangs don’t even reach her eyes, but she says feeling her hair on her forehead distracts her while she’s working, even if it can’t actually block her view.

Monika balks a little at the ratio of flour to sugar. “I have a sweet tooth, and this still seems a bit much.”

“Trust me, this is the right way to eat vegetables.”

“All vegetables?” Monika asks with a raised eyebrow. It’s not so much a question as a challenge. How far are you willing to go with that statement?

This question actually gives Amelia pause. “You know what,” she begins once she’s run through a mental list of veggies, “I say yes.”

Monika’s raised eyebrow ticks higher. “Really?”

Amelia is undeterred, as always. She places her hands on her hips confidently, “Yup! If carrots and tomato soup and sauerkraut and pinto beans can all make good cake, and zucchini makes a good bread, and pumpkin and sweet potato can make good pie, I see potential in all things.”

“Sauer…kraut? Cake?” The rhythm of the question is broken, teetering on the edge of confusion and horror.

Amelia’s smile turns sly. She takes Monika’s face gently between her hands, rising up on her tiptoes so their lips brush gently. Against Monika’s mouth, she whispers, “You heard me, doll. Sauer. Kraut. Cake.”

Monika is frozen as Amelia kisses her once for real and then spins back to the computer. It’s not the most satisfying kiss they’ve shared. Monika’s mind is consumed by the memory of sauerkraut. The sour pickled cabbage she ate with meat and potatoes. In a cake….

Turned away, Amelia cheerfully adds, “With chocolate, by the way!”

Amelia grates the zucchini while Monika mixes the dry ingredients. Amelia hums a random string of notes to herself along with the sound of the zucchini against the cheese grater. Every so often her tune is accompanied by Monika running a knife over the top of the measuring cups. She’s not sure if Monika is trying to match her humming. She can feel Monika glancing over at her occasionally.

When Amelia is reaching the end of the zucchini she feels another foot tap lightly against hers. Be careful with your fingers.

Monika has already turned back to her mixing bowls when Amelia looks over at her. Amelia hums a little louder anyway, so even if Monika can’t see her smile she’ll be able to hear how happy she is.

The dough is runny. Too runny for kneading, which is one of Monika’s favorite parts of bread making. Disappointing. It makes a wet slopping sound as they pour it into the bread pan, green and yellow strips of zucchini standing out in the pale brown liquid.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Amelia cuts in before Monika can say anything, “it’s gonna taste delicious, and that’s what counts. That’s the only thing that counts.”

The bread-cake-thing still smells good when it's done baking at least.

“Not like zucchini.”

“Were you honestly expecting it to smell like zucchini over all that cinnamon?”

“A little bit.”

Monika chews thoughtfully. Amelia watches as patiently as one can while doing a drum roll on the kitchen counter.

Monika swallows.

“So?” Amelia asks.

Monika shrugs. “It’s fine,” she says without much feeling.

“Fine?”

“It’s fine,” Monika nods, “It does not taste like zucchini.”

“Did you really expect it to taste like zucchini too?”

“A little bit.”

“But?”

Monika shakes her head this time, “I still would not call it bread.”

Amelia throws back her head and groans.

“It tastes like a nice spiced cake.”

“But it’s not cake!”

“I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference if you gave it to me with frosting.”

Amelia hangs her head and walks off miserably. The whole walk is so exaggerated that Monika can tell it's being played up. Amelia is acting out a crushing defeat, the low point of the story where all hope seems lost. She will either bounce back with a new plan to convince Monika or something else will catch her attention and they will move on. This isn't a true argument between them, and so Monika is content to wait without budging. No need to concede or offer comfort until one of them had been proven definitively wrong (and neither of them really could). And so they continue, and every so often they bicker about it, because sometimes it was fun to bicker about things that did not really matter to anyone at all

She finds Amelia staring out the window in their bedroom. Her face is scrunched up, deep in thought. Somewhere in the apartment, she found a long furby, and it now hangs around her neck like a snake. Amelia tugs at one of its ears absentmindedly.

Monika wraps her arms around her waist, her chin resting on Amelia’s head. She grabs the end of the furby and wraps it around her neck too. Amelia looks out into the courtyard below and hums thoughtfully.

When they’re tied together to Monika’s satisfaction, Amelia leans back to look up at her, and asks a question to begin a new period of chaos.

“Do you think you could make asparagus into bread?”

They go to Aldi next.

After they stop by the asparagus stand.

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” Monika mutters.

Amelia smiles brightly at her, swinging their linked hands gleefully. “You should stop makin it so easy, my dear.”

She was right. They were both curious by nature, and Amelia had a talent for coming up with strange ideas when left on her own. It was not the first time Amelia had asked Is this [insert random thing] possible? and Monika had dedicated her time to helping her find out, just for the satisfaction of knowing. It would not be the last.

Still, Monika winces as she picks up a jar of sauerkraut, “How do you even come up with something like this, though? Sauerkraut? In a chocolate cake?”

Amelia hums, “It’s fuzzy, ya know? I don’t really remember. Some people say it was to use up rations during the war, some say it was a lunch lady in Chicago who just had a lot of extra sauerkraut lyin around and needed a way to feed it to the kids. Some people even think it was you guys who brought the recipe over.”

This is news to Monika, “But it already goes with sausage. We already found a good way to eat it. We did not need this.”

Amelia smiles at her all the same, apparently quite proud that her citizens had made sauerkraut and chocolate into an edible combination for some reason, “Maybe we didn’t need it. But it sure is fun putting weird stuff in a cake that still tastes good for your potluck, and then getting a bunch of compliments, ‘wow Amelia this might be the best cake I’ve ever had, what’s your secret?’, but you act all innocent like ‘oh Jolene, you know I can’t give that information out to just anybody’, but they’re insistent, they’re on their knees begging,” Amelia drops to her actual knees for dramatic effect in the middle of the grocery store, “‘Oh, please, Amelia I just have to know, it was so moist and fluffy, I think I’ll die if I don’t know the recipe!’” she smirks, “And then getting to see their face when you tell them they were eating sauerkraut.”

“...if it doesn’t taste like sauerkraut, then what does it taste like?”

“Coconut, actually.”

Monika snorts derisively, “I’ll believe it when I eat it.”

Amelia’s smile is confident, already self-satisfied, as she dusts grocery store floor dirt from her dress, “Yes, you will.”

That is, until she sees a seasonal display at the end of the aisle. Cream colored cardboard shelves are loaded with loaves of bread, wrapped individually. Schoko Chunk, Wilde Berre, Walnuss, Salted Caramel. In simple letters the sign advertises ‘Bananenbrot- Bio und Vegan’.

Amelia turns to her with the look of ultimate betrayal. “Are you kidding me?! Banana bread counts as bread but zucchini bread doesn’t? This is malarkey!”

Blink. “Banana is a fruit at least. Zucchini is a vegetable.” Monika’s logic does not sound convincing to either of them.

“That doesn’t make it better! It should be even more cake, then. Banana bread and fruit cake are cousins.”

One last shot, Monika. “You call it banana bread at your house too!”

Amelia crosses her arms and shifts her weight from foot to foot, back and forth. Her dress makes a swish swish noise, “That’s a swing and a miss, babe. At least I’m not a hypocrite about it. Zucchini bread and banana bread are siblings.”

“Alright, alright. I will concede that. In a world where banana bread is bread, zucchini bread should be too.”

Amelia’s face softens slightly, but she continues to shift restlessly, “But you don’t live in that world?”

Monika bridges the gap between them, coming forward to wrap her arms around Amelia’s waist, “I don’t think either of them are bread, but it's not up to me what name gets adopted by the people. It's probably a direct translation from your house anyway.” She doesn’t have proof of that — she really has no knowledge of the history of banana bread — but the thought makes her smile, so she takes a page out of Amelia’s book and chooses to believe it.

Amelia leans into her chest, humming thoughtfully. Monika waits patiently for her to decide where the conversation will go. If the pseudo-argument over another bread-esque item will continue, or if Amelia will turn back towards their new mission of making the most obscure baking recipes they can find on the internet.

Amelia looks up at her, lips pursed, “National Banana Bread Day is February 23. You’re welcome,” she teases. She’s decided to move on.

Monika shakes her head, “Oh, thank you sooo much. I would be lost if my country did not have banana bread.”

Amelia beams in response, “It would be a terrible world to live in. What would you eat with your banana juice and your banana milk then?”

They continue holding hands as they move on to the produce section.

The first step out of all their recipes is to soak the sauerkraut. They need to get as much of the pickling juice out as possible, so they start there and decide to finish the other recipes while that sits. In lieu of the usual aprons, they’ve dug out a couple old lab coats to enhance the scientific environment.

They do find an asparagus bread recipe online, courtesy of Michigan. Cinnamon and asparagus prove a less desirable combination than zucchini and cinnamon.

“It’s the texture,” Amelia speaks carefully around a mouthful, “it's cause the asparagus is diced while the zucchini is grated.” She swallows with a grimace, “There’s just something about eating a chunk of asparagus in a dessert out of nowhere that makes for a really unpleasant dessert. The zucchini is hardly noticeable, but with this it's like I’m chewing and there’s spices and it's sweet and then BAM! Asparagus!” Amelia shakes her head emphatically.

Monika refuses to speak with her mouth full, and she refuses to bad mouth asparagus, “Maybe we did not dice it small enough.”

The roles have reversed now. Amelia sticks out her tongue, “I was wrong earlier, not every veggie is better this way. This is the wrong way to eat asparagus.”

“It has potential.”

“Does it, babe?”

“I think the asparagus flavor comes through in a way reminiscent of lemon, and lemon is not uncommon in desserts.”

“With the cinnamon though?”

They set aside their most recent science experiment, but Monika bookmarks the recipe to revisit it later.

The next recipe they try is one Monika found.

“This isn’t….What?” Amelia stares at the list of ingredients in disbelief. Monika clutches the kitchen counter tightly. She can barely hold in her laughter. It’s a rare treat to find something that truly stuns Amelia into silence.

“‘By Monica’,” Amelia looks away from the screen for a moment to stare at Monika, “Did you do this?”

This sends Monika fully over the edge. Amelia is still looking at her, baffled, and all of it combined has Monika laughing harder than she has in a long time. Doubled over, stomach hurts, tears in her eyes laughing.

It's absurd and infectious and soon Amelia is laughing too. “How did you even find this?”

“I googled ‘eggplant bread’ and scrolled a little.”

“No, for real though, ‘Maple Chocolate Chip Eggplant Bread with Walnuts’? With rye flour? And olive oil?”

Monika rubs her eyes, “The thing that bothers me most is that the recipe is labeled ‘gluten free’, when any experienced baker knows rye contains gluten.”

“Hmm,” Amelia tilts her head, “maybe cause you can substitute for gluten free flour?”

Monika’s mood fully returns to equilibrium, and she sighs, “That’s just not how the chemistry works. You cannot just swap things as you please.”

“No, I get that,” Amelia says as she starts rummaging through Monika’s cabinets, “you have rye flour though, don’t you?”

The first problem might be that Monika does not like eggplant. Or dark chocolate. Or walnuts, if she’s being honest, so that doesn’t help things.

The bread is very dense. Bittersweet. An odd gray color. The eggplant is grated like the zucchini, so she can’t necessarily taste it, but she had never been inclined to desserts in this vein.

Earthy. She found it off-putting.

“Strange.”

Amelia chews pensively, no expression on her face. When she does speak, it's a surprise.

“I like it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Amelia turns to her, “like it's not a combination of ingredients I would come up with, but I like the flavor of geosmin.”

“You like the flavor of the smell of wet dirt?”

Amelia’s hands flutter around, “Well not literally wet dirt, but it’s… It’s satisfying. Deep, in a way.”

Monika is at a loss, “I think I will make regular rye bread next time. Maybe even banana bread,” Monika moves the loaf out of the way, “rye banana bread could be good.” “Maybe you’d like it more if you used white rye flour instead of pumpernickel?” Amelia snatches up another piece as Monika walks by.

“I think I would like it better without the eggplant,” Monika says dryly.

“You’re gonna get on Romano’s bad side again,” Amelia tsks, “don’t let him hear you talkin shit when he’s making melanzane al cioccolato.”

Monika looks back at her, leaning comfortably against the counter. Amelia has a spot of chocolate in the corner of her mouth. At some point another long furby mysteriously wrapped itself around one of her legs like a leg warmer.

Monika crosses her arms, “Romano makes eggplant and chocolate as a dessert?”

“Yeah, it's from Campania!”

Monika is skeptical. “Like eggplant parmesan, but instead of parmesan it's chocolate?”

By contrast, Amelia is entirely sincere, “It’s exactly like that!”

Now that the sauerkraut has finished soaking, and they’re baking an actual cake (that they agree is cake), they make frosting to go with it. Amelia works on the frosting while Monika prepares the cake batter. She has a long furby curled up and balanced on her head in place of her usual head band. Keeping the furby in place will probably be more distracting in the long run than her hair, but Amelia had laughed so sweetly when she had placed it on her head. “I have a gift for you,” she had said, with her mischievous smile

Monika couldn’t bring herself to take it off.

They’ve just put the cake in the oven when Julchen bursts in with an enthusiastic “Moin!” It's not a common greeting this far South, and so Julchen brings it out whenever she visits. She’s wearing overalls and her hair is tied up in a bun. It looks like there is red paint and grass stuck to her arms. Julchen immediately heads towards the shower. Amelia sends Monika a curious look, Why is she here?

Monika just shakes her head. She’s not sure herself, but she’s more interested in setting the timer for the oven anyway. Julchen drops by at random times when Monika is away from Berlin. Anywhere in Germany, her sister might show up. She’s even been followed on international trips a few times, but as long as Julchen doesn’t bring a bag of gummy bears near her bread pans again she sees no problem with it.

Amelia shrugs it off too. The running shower can be heard from the kitchen, but Monika becomes absorbed in doing the dishes and Amelia becomes absorbed in trying to distract her. She hands off utensils to be dried and instead Amelia stuffs them in her socks. She starts sneaking clean dishes into the sink to see if Monika will notice. At one point she tries to tie Monika’s ankles together with a towel, but she quickly abandons that plan when Monika accidentally steps on her fingers. Ironically, Amelia’s pained cry of “Son of a bitch!” is what distracts Monika most.

It is a surprise to them both when Julchen reappears. Her hair is loose and damp now, but she still has grass and paint stuck to her arms.

“Soooo, what is going on in here?” Julchen asks, observing the mess they’ve made of the kitchen, and the smell of baking cake mixed with the sour odor of sauerkraut hanging around in a persistent fog.

Instead of addressing the carnival of cooking horrors Monika has been immersed in, the first thing Monika thinks to say is, “Why did you bother taking a shower if you were not going to clean yourself?”

“I will wash it off eventually,” Julchen laughs, glancing at her arms, “for now, I earned this dirt fair and square. I wanna wear it a little longer.”

“Seriously though, what are you making?” Julchen asks again.

“Science!” Amelia exclaims at the same time as Monika bluntly states “A mistake.”

Monika’s attitude makes both Julchen and Amelia snicker. Monika smiles begrudgingly.

Julchen hops up to sit on the counter, feet resting on the handles of the kitchen drawers. Monika taps both her knees to remind her not to do that.

“So I assume this is the baking kind of science,” Julchen addresses Amelia, “what’s the actual deal?”

“Well, we were debating if zucchini bread, and other quickbreads, are actually bread or just cake. I contend that they are bread, Monika says they’re cake. Then we got kind of sidetracked backing a bunch of other stuff.”

Amelia’s answer is as serious as this whole day has been, which is to say ‘not very serious’. It makes Julchen’s reaction unexpected. Her face turns grim suddenly, and she blurts out, “That has to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”

Monika is just pulling the cake out of the oven, but both she and Amelia are taken aback by Julchen’s statement.

Julchen observes them in silence for a long moment, but her eyes are unfocused. They drift between the laptop still displaying the recipe, the refrigerator in the corner, the electric light in the ceiling. Her attention is pulled through the glass doors of the balcony, to the tram driving by the apartment, and in the distance, the funicular up the Königstuhl.

Julchen shifts her stance. “I remember when that tram was pulled by horses,” she says. She’s mostly talking to herself, but it's quiet enough in the apartment that Monika and Amelia can hear her clearly.

“I remember when there weren’t trams at all,” Julchen turns to address them directly this time. Her chin is high, her brows low. Against the setting sun, she looks too serious for a discussion about cake.

Sometimes around nations, especially the older ones, when they recall their distant memories it feels like whatever slows down time for their pets affects other nations too. Time stood still for a moment. Monika and Amelia wait quietly in their lab coats, hardly moving.

Julchen looks directly at Monika, “You! Have you forgotten box cake mix was created in the 20th century?” Then towards Amelia, “And you! I can’t believe you’d try to defend yeast-less bread with zucchini bread when Boston brown bread is right there!”

“I don’t see what that has to do with this,” Monika says, confused by Julchen’s outburst.

“Quickbread only became possible with the invention of chemical leavening!” Julchen argues, “The kind used for box cake mix. We still had cake before that though, don’t you remember?”

Monika frowns deeply, gears turning in her head as Julchen continues, “Cake batter before chemical leavening was aerated through whipping eggs by hand, or yeast! They used yeast to make cakes before baking powder or soda! Gugelhupf, Monika, come on!”

Monika flinches, embarrassed to have forgotten how different things were, and that her sister knows so much more about Monika’s hobby when Julchen doesn’t even like baking. Seeing this, Julchen rounds on Amelia, who has been standing there absorbing all of Julchen’s obscure knowledge of baking history like a sponge (cake). Amelia continues smiling, even as Julchen sneers at her.

“Zucchini bread,” Julchen shakes her head with disgust, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I like squash,” Amelia’s response is untroubled.

Julchen scoffs, but there’s not much else she can say to that, other than arguing whether or not squash is good, and that would be an even bigger waste of her time. Amelia’s smile widens as she sees Julchen deflate.

“You raise an interesting point though,” Amelia interjects as she turns away. She takes each of their baked goods: the freshly baked sauerkraut cake, the maple eggplant chocolate bread, the asparagus bread, and the original, the zucchini bread. She sets them out side by side on the counter and says, “This is a real ‘alligators are birds’ situation, ain’t it?”

Monika sighs, “I suppose. It feels more like convergent evolution to me though. Everything evolves into crabs eventually.”

Julchen’s face twists, “You spent all day on this?”

Amelia smiles like a shark, “Well, now that you’re here you obviously have to try all of our creations, Julia. This totally normal chocolate cake is fresh after all.”

Julchen is smart enough to be suspicious, “What did you do to the cake?”

“Asking ruins the surprise, but we didn’t put anything that’s not usually food in it!”

Julchen is also too proud not to eat the cake.

According to Julchen, the sauerkraut tastes like coconut.

#gerame #ameger #hws america #hws germany #hws nyo germany #hws nyo america

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