I wrote a thing to go with that pic and am being bullied into posting it
Jack/BJ
The pattering of rain against the glass of a car was always a comfort, watching the droplets fall as the windows fog from the living heat inside. You were less familiar with it in the back of a squad car, the patterning accompanied by the light clicking of handcuffs.
Not on your wrists, however.
He had pulled up while you were walking, window rolled down. Just a talk, much to your surprise, and talk the two of you did, your arm resting above the window, leaning your height down and craning your body to meet his gaze. The way olive eyes stared at you, all with hunger you weren't sure was entirely human.
Hunger that was starting to excite you, too.
Back and forth, back and forth, teasing met with toothy grins, stopped only by the single drop of rain against your skin. And then another. Drops becoming rapid downpour, words drowned by the roar of rain.
So you found yourself in the car, found hands roaming, lips and teeth devouring greedily of each other. He always liked to bite almost *too* much; teeth ready to tear, hands ready to pull you apart.
You were so surprised he agreed to your idea, a joke really, when your fingers happened to brush against the cold metal of handcuffs on his belt. From his belt to his wrists with a click, the animal in uniform was at your mercy, growling under your firm and teasing hands.
It wasn't long before it was between his thighs, your palm pressing against the pitched indent in the navy seams. Had he seriously been hard this whole time?
"This why you rolled up on me?"
"Might be." was a husky half-assed answer. An answer met with a firm squeeze around him, one that made the jackal in blue whine and jerk his cuffed hands; a fruitless endeavor.
You continued to rub and press and squeeze all the while, strong hands on achingly sensitive places. Confined painfully by more civil matters, civility wearing down by grunts and growls and hard bites against his own lips. He wanted to tear into you terribly.
"BJ... Billie, come on..." the animal struggled to speak.
"Aw, what's up, officer? Getting too close, yeah?"
A nice, dark uniform. Clean and pressed. Not fitting for him in the slightest.
Hips bucked into your palm, jerking away, a fight of brain poisoning want and the mercy of messy embarrassment. Pleading without words, growls of warning, the whine of a desperate dog against deaf ears.
Not deaf.
Just choosing not to listen.
A curse of your name when white poured and oozed from the pitch dark blue.
"Damn, Dean. I knew you were a filthy pig, but come on."
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like can you imagine if you, as a housed person, said "oh man im really struggling financially right now I can't pay my bills- my electric is going to be cut off, my car might get repossessed, and I definitely can't afford to get a new laptop after mine broke"
and someone who had a lot more money than you said "I can help you!" and you were like"oh my god great thank you so much-" and then they just offered to take you to olive garden. and you say "hey man that's really nice but I'm actually okay on food right now, I really just need to pay some of these bills. I already got food somewhere else (foodstamps, friends, food pantries) and I really just need money. if you can't do it that's fine but I don't need food"
and the rich person said "you must not really need money or be poor then or else you'd take me up on my offer. I bet you were going to use that money on drugs anyway"
that's what yall sound like when you refuse to give homeless people money & just offer to buy them food
food is great! if you need it and that's what you're asking for. unfortunately food doesn't buy clothes, hygiene products, shelter, pay a phone bill, or yes even buy drugs or alcohol if you're going into detox and can't do so safely without literally dying
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This is one of my favorite minor details in Dungeon Meshi, firstly because what in the femme fatale, but also because it's one of those little things that raises so many questions about worldbuilding.
The Occam's Razor defense attorney in me says that Ryoko Kui gave Kabru a boot knife because she wanted him to escape from his bonds here. And Kabru is a very competent swordsman, why wouldn't he have a boot knife, sure. He's already got a dagger, he can have this too.
And yet: the implications. Kabru, why do you have that? That is not remotely something that could be easily accessed or used in combat. Nobody is pulling out a pen knife from the heel of their boot during a fight with a monster. It's useless in the dungeon ... unless you're the type of person who isn't just worried about monsters.
I've mentioned this before, but I consider one of Kabru's functions in the narrative as being the character who fully brings the idea of human ecosystems into the story. There's a reason why he's always connected to large groups of people (Toshiro's party, the Canaries). He (along with Mr. Tansu, briefly) introduces the reader to the social and political forces working on the dungeon, showing us that none of this is happening in a monster-filled vacuum. His confrontation with the corpse retrievers, who very nearly kill Kabru's party permanently with their reckless murder-for-money scheme, reminds us that monsters are not the only things that prey on humans. Kabru understands the ways the dungeon causes people to put profit over human lives.
We only get hints of it in the story, but like any gold-rush-style economic boom, it's implied that there is a lot of crime and corruption surrounding the dungeon.
So yeah, it really makes me wonder why Kabru keeps a tiny knife in his boot, meant to be carried on him even in situations where he would otherwise be unarmed. Stored exactly in the place where it's easy to reach, even if, for some reason, your hands are tied behind your back.
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"Are the Robins child soldiers" It depends. If the story is super serious and into exploring complex morality and grounded from reality's standards, then yes. If the story is lighthearted, made for children, fluff, etc., then no. If it's somewhere in the middle, it might depend.
If an author wants to write a story seriously delving into the fucked up-ness of children fighting criminals, they can, and if you don't like it, you can read something else.
If an author wants to write a fun story about villains and heroes featuring Robin in a world where that's not an issue, they can, and if you don't like it, you can read something else.
If an author wants to write a serious story but not apply IRL-logic to Robin, they can, and if you don't like it, you can read something else.
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