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miryum · 21 days

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"Clark's Phone Number"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Cass and Steph’s phones pinged at the same time. Steph scanned the message then called over to Damian, “shouldn’t we be using the other group chat for this?”

Damian glared and typed something on his phone. The message was: I doubt we need Richard or Timothy for this revelation. Are they truly as invested in this cause as we are?

Dick created the group chat in the first place, Steph reminded her friends.

“We’re sitting a couple feet away from each other,” Cass deadpanned. “Why are we even using the group chat?”

Because it’s more entertaining, Damian wrote while maintaining eye contact with Cass.

Anyone else notice that Todd and L/n aren’t here? Dick stopped their bickering by typing away in the larger, all-encompassing, precinct group chat that was titled Operation Lovebird. The group chat with everyone, including Y/n and Jason was graciously named Practically Hell, courtesy of Y/n, due to the six-six being “only one six away from Hell.”

Al Ghul was just mentioning it in The Best Ones, Cass replied.

Why do you guys even *have* another group chat? Tim asked.

Because we’re ‘The Best Ones.’ Obviously. Steph added the eye-roll emoji.

Just tell us what’s happening with Operation Lovebird!!! Dick demanded.

All we know is that they’re both gone, Steph said.

If you were better detectives, you would’ve noticed the culprits entering the copy room together. Captain Wayne’s contact suddenly popped up on everyone’s screen.

A plethora of messages popped up after his comment, including:

Dick: Culprits???!!!!! Brucie, why???

Tim: Why is Captain in this chat again? No offence, sir.

Wayne: None taken.

Steph: omg are they…

Steph: … you know?

Cass: Fucking?

Steph: NO!!!

Steph: Smooching, obvi.

Damian: Brown, please. Stop maiming my eyes with your typed words.

Tim: Though, seriously, what are they doing?

Wayne: Pull the security tapes and meet me in my office.

There was a scrambling around the precinct as the detectives (and Damian) ran to Wayne’s office. “Does anyone have the surveillance tapes?” the captain asked. The detectives glanced around and slowly shook their heads. Wayne groaned and commanded, “Cain, grab the tapes.”

Once Cass did as she was directed, Tim used Wayne’s computer and pulled the tapes onto the screen.

On the tape, Jason stood in the copy room, glancing around anxiously as he fiddled senselessly with the machine. Y/n’s figure appeared on screen and she shuffled into the room, calling out to anyone who would listen, “yeah, I'm just gonna make some copies in here. In the copy room. Heh. Perfect cover. Nailed it.”

“Hey…” Jason waved awkwardly to his coworker. “Hi… Y/n…”

“Jason,” Y/n stepped towards him, smiling devilishly. “Why’d you wanna meet me here?” Her grin showed that she knew exactly why Jason wanted to talk to her. “To boink? At work?!” She gasped dramatically. “Todd, I expected better of you!”

Jason’s cheeks flamed up and Y/n congratulated herself on making the buff, six foot tall detective stutter. “No…” He said, “I wanted to talk about uh, Brian and Lacy.”

“Ah… yeah. Brian and Lacy,” Y/n nodded her head, demeanour shifting. “What about them? I thought they were a pretty cute couple.”

“So did I,” Jason admitted softly. He took a step forward until Y/n could simply reach out and touch him. He had a faint bruise on the underside of his jaw from an incident with a criminal half a week ago. He stared down at his colleague, his gaze filled with agonised hope. “Brian wanted to ask Lacy on an official date.”

Y/n’s heart was being cleaved in half and sewn back up again by Jason’s own hands. “What about Brian’s old girlfriend, Daisy? Lacy was pretty sure that Brian was making googly-eyes at Daisy during their last meeting.”

“Just to be clear, Daisy being Rose?”

“Yeah.”

“Brian went on a couple dates with Daisy,” Jason continued, “but soon realised that Daisy couldn’t hold a small, dying match to Y/n’s burning, beautiful fire.”

“I thought her name was Lacy,” Y/n whispered. Jason’s chest rose and fell and he moved even closer to her. Jason reached up towards her face and swiped the pad of his thumb along her cheek. He angled Y/n’s face up so he could finally look into her eyes with the redamancy and forelsket that had been stored away for so many years.

“Yeah, well,” a corner of his lips curved into a knowing smirk. “I just made Lacy blush, which is usually an impossible feat.”

“You flatter me, Brian,” Y/n said. “It’s clear that you take your words straight from a romance novel. You spend too much time reading.” She reached up and brushed a tuft of hair away from Jason’s face. Her words were teasing, but her actions were careful.

“My words aren’t from a romance novel,” Jason reassured her. “They’re from the heart- yeah, no, I hear it now. A little too cheesy, huh?”

Y/n shrugged and said, “I rather enjoyed it.” She relished the feeling of Jason’s touch on her skin. She hoped to feel it more often. “Your kissing could improve, though,” she referenced their impromptu kiss at the restaurant.

Jason chuckled lightly. “I doubt that. You seemed to like it a lot.” He spoke lightly while memorising her face. “So, what do you say to a date, darling?”

“Darling?” Y/n asked. “I thought I was the one with the nicknames.”

Jason shook his head. “I think I’ve found your ten.”

“And now you’ve stolen my quips. Love, you’ve already stolen my heart. Soon I’m gonna see you in the interrogation room.”

“I bet you’d love to see me in handcuffs.”

Y/n’s mouth fell open and she let out a shocked laugh. “Mr. Todd! That’s no way to speak to a lady!”

Jason’s hand was still cupping Y/n’s cheek and his other hand drew up to trace meaningless patterns on her forearm. “Does this mean you say ‘yes’ to the date?”

“What if it makes working together awkward?” Y/n’s hand clutched onto the fabric of his shirt.

“Then we’ll be awkward together,” he answered easily. “I want this too much for a little awkwardness to get in the way. I want you too much, Y/n.”

“I wanna try this,” she decided after a moment. “I want you too. Tonight? At eight?”

Jason nodded quickly, afraid she would take it back. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”

Y/n stared at him and she couldn’t seem to place the expression on his face. It had a softness that looked suspiciously like love. His cheeks held a pink tint and his eyes gazed down at her and Jason knew he would spend the rest of his life holding her if he could. After a moment, Y/n realised, heart jumping, that Jason looked like he was in love. “We should probably get back to work before they realise we’re missing,” Y/n said slowly.

Jason nodded and moved towards the door, not before taking Y/n in his arms and pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Should we tell the rest of the team? he asked quietly.

“Probably not,” Y/n said. “They would get way too involved.”

“Should we tell them we’re spying on them?” Tim asked from inside Wayne’s office where the rest of the six-six was still crowded around the computer which displayed Y/n and Jason.

A chorus of ‘no’s and shushing erupted from everyone else and Steph squealed, “oh! They’re finally together! I’m over the moon! They’re adorable!”

“Brown, will your fangirling get in the way of your work?” Wayne asked, smiling slightly.

“Yes, definitely!”

Wayne sighed. “Understandable.”

“Well, what are you looking for?” Jason asked. “Symbolism and overall themes or simply personal enjoyment?”

“Both,” Y/n took a lick of her ice cream, legs swinging happily under the park bench.

“The Great Gatsby for symbolism and overall themes,” he answered after a minute of thinking. “And then my favourite book is Pride and Prejudice.”

“Yeah, I definitely knew that one,” Y/n nodded. “You’ve read it a thousand times in the precinct.” She shook her head, “I’ve tried to get through that book, man, but I don’t get the hype over it. Granted, I’ve never been able to get through the first five chapters.”

Jason began ranting about Pride and Prejudice before shaking his head in defeat and asking, “what’s your favourite book? Please don’t let it be Goddess Girls or Geronimo Stilton or some other children's series.”

“No, although those were great series.” She pointed her spoon at Jason accusingly. “As I’ve grown up and matured, it’s either The Fault in Our Stars, Memoirs of a Geisha, All Quiet on the Western Front, or Ella Minnow Pea.”

Jason stared at her and finally said, “those are all very different books. Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve even read four books.”

Y/n punched him in the arm. “How dare you! I’m very well-read! You should see the length of my Ao3 history!”

Jason laughed loudly and cradled his ‘hurt’ arm. “I’m sorry I underestimated you, Y/n.”

“You better be!” Y/n crossed her arms before finishing off her ice cream. “Now I’m not gonna have sex with you until our fifth date.”

Jason let out a dramatic groan. “I don’t know if I can wait that long, sweetheart.”

“Keep calling me ‘sweetheart’ and you may not have to.”

“How was the daaaaaate?” Steph used her wheely chair to roll up to Y/n’s desk, grinning cheekily. She waved a finger in Jason and Y/n’s direction. “What is this, huh? Casual? Serious? I need to know how to make fun of you. Also, please get married in a barn ‘cause I have a lot of jokes that are centred around that.”

“How’d you know about the date?” Jason asked.

“You guys are officially dating?” Dick was walking by when he paused and placed a firm hand on Jason’s chair.

Y/n looked at Jason helplessly. “...yes?” she said quietly. “Maybe?”

Dick and Steph exchanged a look. “This isn’t good,” Dick said.

“We said we weren't gonna tell anyone,” Y/n explained. “It's very new, and we're still figuring it out, you know?”

“Enough.” Dick stated. “Look, I love love, but I also love maintaining a professional work environment. As your commanding officer, I’m kinda disappointed in both of you.” He bent down and added in a stage-whisper, “but as you loving friend who sees himself as a father-or-brother figure to both of you, I adore you two dating and hope that it works out. Kori and I have a big binder left over from our wedding full of ideas and samples we’d be happy to lend you. Please lemme give a toast at the wedding.”

”I already have mine written,” Steph admitted excitedly.

Y/n’s head fell into her hands and Jason cursed Dick under his breath. Dick had to admit, Jason’s curses were getting more creative.

Bonus Scene:

“You guys have a group chat dedicated to us?!” Y/n cried out.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Dick chuckled. “It’s where we share blackmail, cute updates, and random stuff related to you guys.”

Y/n snatched Damian’s phone away, the closest person to her and much to his protest. “I can’t believe-” She scrolled through the messages before realising, “wait, I’m sorry, what are our contact names, Dami?”

“It’s simple.” Damian explained, “Richard is Moby Dick. Todd is Bamboozled from when he was drunk and said it out of context. Drake is obviously CCA which stands for Computer/Coffee Addict. Y/n is Da Best Homie because she set up her own contact and I haven’t gotten around to changing it. Stephanie is Titus because she reminds me of my valiant and excitable dog. Cain is Cassandra Cain and Wayne is Captain Bruce Wayne. I also have Clark’s number and he’s listed as Mr. Clark Kent.”

“I don’t know whether to be offended or unsurprised,” Dick mumbled.

“At least you’re a classic novel,” Steph crossed her arms. “I’m named after a dog.”

“Steph, you’re literally the epitome of a joyful dog.”

“Aw, thanks!”

“You have Clark’s number?” Y/n murmured to Damian, “can I have it?”

“No.”

Not my fav way to do it and I would probably rewrite it, but it's already on ao3 so... *shrug*

#title of your sex tape #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc x reader #dcu #b99 #b99/dcu #slow burn

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xcalciumx · 2 years

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Apricots | Poly! Marauders x Reader

Word Count | 1.7k

Warnings | This is just chaos. That’s it. There’s your fic. // fluff, angst in a funny way ig, reader is a little crazy, James kinda sus, me bad at editing

Summary | You and the boys are in potions and today's subject is amortentia! What could go wrong?

a/n | Thank you for all the support on my last marauders post, it means the world that people could enjoy it ♡

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“Okay everybody!” Slughorn calls out as he enters the potions room. “If everyone could find a workbench, we shall begin.” Professor Slughorn is quick to inquire about the potion that he’s holding, waving it around for everyone to see. “Who can tell me what this is?” You ponder it for a second, looking to your right at James, who is studying the pink liquid closely. Across the table, Remus lazily raises an arm and Slughorn nods for him to talk.

“It’s amortentia, sir. It’s highly dangerous cause’ of its-”

“It’s a love potion!” James butts in, his lips tugging into a crooked smile. A couple of the girls in the class giggle at this and you side-eye him, rolling your eyes playfully. Slughorn nods thoughtfully, and addresses the class of seventh years again.

“Can someone explain the characteristics of amortentia?”

As a Slytherin girl answers the question, you lean over to James.

“How did you know that, Jamesie?” You murmur, peering up at him. The smile on his face quickly falters and a red hue starts to brighten his ears. He mumbles something incoherently. “What?” you ask. He opens and then closes his mouth again. You don’t let up, looking at him expectantly.

“It, ah, it’s nothing.” He brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I spose’ I read about it in a book or somethin’.” Pursing your lips, you stare him down until he gets jittery and looks the opposite way. Before you can press anymore, Slughorn starts talking again.

“Yes, a glistening shimmer and spiralling steam - both very distinctive features. Now, if you look under the desk, you will find small vials of amortentia. Do not steal them, do not spill them and definitely do not drink them. Have a sniff and see what you find.”

The room erupts into chatter as Slughorn turns and begins digging around in his bag. Across the bench, Sirius has already acquired the small vial and looks about ready to down it. Him and Remus are talking as a grin creeps onto his face but Remus clocks the look and boinks him over the head.

“Mate, if you drink that you’re gonna become obsessively in love. I wouldn’t.” Sirius raises a brow and inspects the potion in his hands.

“Obsessively in love? What, like - I'm gonna be more in love with someone I already love?” James starts chuckling next to you and you watch as Remus facepalms. Before the scarred boy can speak, Sirius starts again. “I mean, I wouldn't mind being more in love with my mon petit chou.” He winks across at you and you shake your head, amused. Remus snatches the vial from him, sighing half-heartedly as he does.

“If anything, you’ll become in love with Slughorn, since he probably made this!” The raven haired boy looks horrified for a second as James laughs harder next to you. Befuddled, Sirius shakes his head and gives the amortentia a scathing look. You can’t help but let out a laugh as well. Remus tries to seem annoyed but the smile on his face betrays his true feelings.

When James has calmed down and Sirius has stopped giving the amortentia disgusted looks, Remus turns to you.

“You wanna try it first, love?” He smiles warmly, holding out the small glass containing the potion. You hum, taking it from him and popping the lid. You take a second to just look at the contents of the potion and are startled to find all three boys staring at you as you look back up. You smile awkwardly, bringing the amortentia up to your nose. The smell doesn’t hit you right away and you need to take a second whiff to really discern what it is you're smelling. The scents are all mingled and it takes you a second to figure out which is which. “So,” Remus prompts. “Whaddya’ smell?” You close your eyes for a second, just letting the scents wash over you. You open them again, making eye contact with James.

“Smells like fresh grass, actually. Like the quidditch pitch.” The spectacled boy’s eyes seem to light up a bit at the implication. It’s true - the smell of freshly trimmed grass stands out and you can’t help but be reminded of all the quidditch matches you’d been to over the years. It’s a fitting scent, considering that your Jamesie is captain of the quidditch team. The other aroma is sort of woodsy and has you looking at Sirius. It’s almost identical to being snuggled up in his arms, face buried in his leather jacket. “Also kinda smells like leather.” Sirius tilts his head, and a wolfish grin seems to appear on his face. When you turn to look at Remus, a devious thought enters your mind. The third scent is clearly chocolate, the sweetness making your tummy rumble. However, rather than voice this, you pretend to think, scrunching up your nose. Your eyes meet Remus’ hopeful brown ones and you pretend to gag.

“Ugh! There’s the smell of wet dog as well!”

Remus’ smile seems to drop and he finds himself lost for words. Feigning ignorance, you’re quick to ask what the smells actually mean. Before any of the boys answer, Slughorn speaks up from where he is walking behind you.

“Well, dear! You are meant to smell the person you love, of course.”

“Oh,” you mutter. “But I don’t love anyone that smells like a wet dog…” your eye twitches but you try to keep your composure. The crack in your facade doesn’t go unnoticed as the brunette opposite you narrows his eyes at you.

Slughorn hums, patting you on the back. “Well, you may not have met them yet, that’s all.” You nod your head enthusiastically and thank him as he wanders off to another table, beginning to chat with another group. When your gaze returns to Remus, you see he’s still staring at you. Your lip trembles as you try to hold in a laugh.

“Do you really smell wet dog?” he asks, looking a little grumpy. You can’t help it anymore and start giggling at the moody look on his face. Quickly, you round the table and wrap your arms around him. He automatically hugs you back, grumbling against the top of your head. You pull back, a laugh still lingering on your lips.

“Of course I don’t, Rem.” You tip-toe to whisper in his ear, “I actually smelt chocolate.” You peck the tip of his ear and rock back onto your feet. He’s unimpressed but you can see the glint in his eyes that says he doesn’t really mind.

You untangle from him completely and push the vial towards him. “Your turn!” He grabs the amortentia from your hand before pulling you closer to peck your lips. A warm heat rushes to your cheeks and before you can react, he is bringing the potion up to smell. He seems contemplative for a second before peering down at you.

“Apricots.” He murmurs, beginning to smile.

“Apricots?” James says.

“Apricots?!” You mirror.

Sirius peeks over Remus’ shoulder. “What's wrong with apricots?” He muses.

You stutter, flailing your arms.

“She hates apricots!” James declares.

“I do, I hate apricots!” you agree.

Glaring up at Remus, you point an accusatory finger at him. Seeing the look on your face, Sirius looks questioningly at James, who just shrugs in return.

“Remus John Lupin, which human being are you in love with who loves apricots? Because it sure as hell ain’t me!” Sirius' mouth forms an o, and he promptly pulls you away from Remus. He wraps his arms around you in the guise of a hug (because you’re pretty sure he thinks you’re gonna jump the werewolf in front of you). And maybe he’s right. You struggle for a second but his arms stay secure around your middle.

“Now dear,” he tries to soothe. “Are you sure you haven’t used some apricot-smelling shampoo recently?” Behind your back, he beckons for James to say something. You shake your head no, fully aware that your watermelon-raspberry shampoo had not changed. James panics and blurts the first thing he can think of.

“You drank apricot juice this mornin’, remember?”

“James.” You growl at him. He recoils (despite the fact that there’s a table between the two of you) and squeaks out a ‘yes.’

“I do not like…” you pause, taking a deep breath. “Apricots. And I know that I did not drink apricot juice this morning. Now that I think about it, you weren’t even at breakfast this morning because you had practice!”

James had just been busted. Sirius groaned from behind you and sent a glare at the curly haired boy who held up his hands in surrender.

While all this happened, Remus watched on - laughing to himself internally. Had he really smelt apricots? No. But you didn’t need to know that - not yet at least. This was the least you deserved after inadvertently saying he smelt like wet-dog.

Your fiery gaze connected with his again and he almost felt bad. Almost.

“What about grass, Remmy? Can you smell grass and leather?” He took another exaggerated whiff and smiled brightly at you.

“Yup.”

The skin between your eyes crinkled and a dark shadow cast over your face.

“Now tell me.” You began. “Are you lying to me right now?”

Remus looked confused. “About the grass and leather? Ah, no?”

“No!” you burst. “About the apricots!”

Remus finally decided to show some mercy and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Maybe I didn’t smell apricots.”

Your cheeks expanded like a puffer-fish and your steely look did not go unnoticed as you wrangled your way out of Sirius’ arms. You leapt at the little liar, trying to tackle him to the floor. It caught him off guard but he righted himself quickly, clasping you around the back of the head and situating you against his chest. You whacked him, once, twice and then went dead weight, groaning. Remus easily supported you, laughing quietly to himself.

“Why’d you lie to me, Remmy?” You spoke, voice smothered against his robes.

“Huh? You lied to me first by saying I smelt like a wet dog.”

“I wasn’t lying about that, though.”

“You- wait, what?”

You cackled demonically and pushed away from Remus, packing up your things as Slughorn dismissed the class. Remus tried to make a grab for you but you evaded him, running out the door. Over your shoulder, you called out to the boys.

“See ya at dinner, losers!”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #marauders oneshot #marauders fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter #amortentia

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boxjellyjelly · 22 days

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i know almost all of you follow me for Weddie stuff but ermmmmmm Muirinnes time!!!!!!!!!!! Anyways here are some headcanons of them because i wanna flesh them out a bit for a fanfic im writing :] ( spoilers for the fic: lots of soft fluffy m0nsterfvcking)

Some of these are probably hella ooc but idc, im cringe and free and i wanna see those two old men BOINK !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Innes

- Something tells me he's a good friend of Roys, probably not as close as Caz is obviously, but still I can see them throwing playful jabs at eachother

- Dimples. The man has dimples. You cant change my mind.

- Extremely patient and level headed, i mean, we saw how he was when his literal best friend turned into a sludge meatball, shock or not he was clear headed enough to tell Caz to get his shit together so they could (try to) help eachother out.

- I feel like he has a really good relationship with his parents. Type to have sunday dinners with the family before his job on the rig, clean the dishes afterwards and everything.

- Someone said this already (cant exactly remember who) but he definitely seems like the type to destress by just sitting with one of his favorite tv shows in his underwear, smoking a cig and sipping a beer. Though, occasionally he destresses by hanging out with the rest of the crew.

- During competitive games i feel like hes the type to try an trick the other out of winning, making a quick loud noise, getting in their head, stuff like that lol (Muir backs him up every time)

- Always up to some weird shit like feeding seagulls bits of his lunch or helping Roy cook even though he has 0 culinary skills

Muir

- Papas boy. 100%. Has a few pictures in a picture book of him and his dad working on cars together

- The type to work so fast he forgets safety, gets injuried (not huge injuries, things like smashed fingers, split nails, etc) on the job all the time

- Dares/bets some of the crew members to do stupid shit whenever work feels too slow to him, Finlay and Caz are the only ones who still take him up on the dares

- Actually really smart though when he wants to be, to the point that it suprises some people

- I also feel like hes suprisingly good at drawing. No professional by any means, but the type to make nice scribbly doodles when bored or taking calls (Mostly of cars or the crew, sometimes the stray seagull too)

- Always. Gets. Sick. During the colder seasons. Im talking sickly victorian ill but still wanting to work, Innes has to practically force him to stay in his cabin.

- His love language is calling people names and having playful verbal fights. Sometimes roughhousing too but after Finlay threw him into a door and broke it, Rennick put a stop to that real fucking quick

#blondie rambles #muirinnes #muir swtd #innes swtd #swtd #headcanons #still wakes the deep #also pls gimme your headcanons if you have any..... if i like them enough i might draw them

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impishjesters · 10 months

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Denture Daddy

CW// implied unspecific sexual relationships, dom/sub talk, use of the word "daddy" and "mommy" in a non-parental form, mentioned hate sex note(s): basically the reader and Jibba (my TADC oc) playing a dumb game of who seems like a dom or sub to pass the time. Jibba can be seen as a bit of a "whore" but he wears it proudly. Rhett (who's mentioned) is another of my TADC ocs. A/N: This whole thing happened all because I wanted to say "denture daddy". I don't expect anyone to give a shit about this. But at the end of the day as long as my friend and I enjoy it, that's all that matters.

Conversations with Jibba was like a game of Russian roulette. You never knew what direction or topic would come up.

Sometimes the conversations were casual, asking how you were doing or if anything fun had happened. But then you’d get conversations about a tiered ranking of who was considered good in bed, only to get whiplash by a simple conversation on whether you were a dog or cat person.

It was a wild ride, to say the least, which is how you got roped into a conversation about your fellow circus captives and whether they fell into dom or sub-category—for shits and giggles that is.

“‘m just sayin’, ya look at Jax ‘n think he’s got this whole sadistic face to ‘im and it turns out he’s just as touch starved as he looks,” Jibba stated.

Right, they were sleeping together—something about hate fucking because of their prank war or some shit. Neither of them was very subtle about their pranks or their “hate sex” because if that was hate sex you hated to see what tamed sex was like.

Bunch of emotionally constipated idiots.

Jibba jabbed you with his elbow playfully, getting your attention back on him. “Thoughts on Kinger?”

“Definitely not a dom, in fact, it feels wrong to think about him even having sex.” You shuddered. Kinger felt too much like your dad, and thinking of your parent’s boinking was enough to make you wanna bleach your eyes.

He shrugged and crossed his arms before leaning his chest against your back. “Yea’ it’s like watchin’ ya gramparents be romantic an mushy.”

“Ugh,” you gagged, “why’d you have to make it worse? I was thinking of my dad at least.”

“Oo, you thinkin’ bout ya dad playing twista? Naughty, naughty.” he teased, shooting you a playful smirk.

You elbowed him hard, basking in the pained noise that left him. “You know damn well what I meant.”

Jibba groaned and rubbed his side, you had a mean right elbow. “Yea’ yeah, alright so what ‘bout Rhett?”

“Eye Daddy? Oh, yeah. Total dom, but like not like in that rough way—”

“—but in like a total control way? Oh yeah, ya don’t know how hard I’ve been tryin’ to crack that nut—metaphorically and literally.” Jibba scoffed and used your head as an armrest, staring out at the others doing one of Caine’s dumb lil games.

“Are you just making rounds to everyone?” You didn’t shame Jibba for his sex escapades, if anything good on him for finding some way to tame Jax’s awful behaviour.

“Only the hot ones.” You looked up at him despite his arm on your head and he sent you a wink. “I’ll get to ya in no time, less ya wanna jump the list then we can go find somewhere right now.”

“Yeah, not right now.” As entertaining as the thought was, you were quite relaxed just hanging out with the ridiculous man. Though it would be a tempting endeavor at a later time. “So, Ragatha?”

“Mm,” Jibba leaned back, taking most of his weight off of you but kept his arm in place. “She gives like, soft mommy vibes.” he waved his hand in a so-so gesture. “Though I feel like she has a lot of parental experiences if she’s been havin’ ta live with Jax for god knows how long.” He paused, eyes squinting in Ragatha’s direction. “I’d let her give me a good stern talk’ ta.”

“I’ll give you a stern talkin’ ta, if you don’t calm yourself.”

“Babe, this whole conversation is about who’s a dom and who’s not, how do ya expect me to keep calm?” he joked. You raised your arm again with a silent threat to elbow him and he swallowed. “Yeah, okay, calming down.”

“Pomni?”

The two of you fell silent, staring over at the anxious woman who was struggling to get out of Jax’s reach.

“Anxious chihuahua.” Both of you stated at the same time.

Jibba laughed that awful eerie death rattle of his. Did a toy like him really exist? God that was horrifying, who buys that for children? You knew he could control it but why did he have to do it now of all times?

He caught you staring and grinned. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Right, this is Jibba we’re talking about, he knows it’s creepy and did it intentionally. Bastard.

“No,” you rolled your eyes and looked back to Pomni. “She’s too anxious, poor woman probably has a hard time holding someone’s hand let alone sex. Though I’d rather not think about her sex life… feels wrong.”

“Oh, and thinkin’ ‘bout mine ain’t?”

You gave him a deadpan stare as to say ‘Really, that’s what you wanna ask?’. He cleared his throat and mumbled a little ‘touche’ before looking back at the others.

“Oo, I know a good one,” he snickered. “Caine.”

“Caine?” Well, at least he wasn’t asking you about Bubble.

For whatever unknown reason, at the mention of his name Caine appeared a few feet from the two of you with a loud pop. “Diiiid somebody say Caine?”

Jibba shook his head, seemed even with a lack of ears the loud pop affected him. You shook your own head, rubbing an ear. “Uh, not directly.”

Caine cocked his head in confusion, clearly not understanding you were simply talking about him—not trying to summon him. “I see. Well, while I’m here. Why aren’t you two participating?” he asked, waggling his fingers in the direction of the others.

“We’re playin’ our own game,” Jibba answered, giving you a playful nudge.

“Oh?” Caine floated closer, eyeing the lanky doll.

“Yea’, the game of dom or sub.”

Caine cocked his head again. “I don’t understand.”

Jibba snickered and you couldn’t help but cover up your own laugh with a grunt. “What he mean’s is—”

“Oh no, he’s like one of those tops with golden retriever vibes that when ya call ‘em daddy like yer sayin’ ‘good boy’ they get excited.” He covers his face, a genuine laugh instead of that death rattle laugh.

The look of confusion never leaves Caine’s face but you can’t help but join Jibba in his laughter, because he’s not wrong. You could say a lot of insulting or weird things to Caine, but if you use that dog tone with him he’ll take just about anything as a compliment or praise.

“Oh no,” you mumbled, he’d be so fun to fuck with. “He’s not a dom…” you snicker, “but I’d still call him daddy.”

“Denture Daddy!” Jibba bursts out, nearly knocking himself and you off your perch.

The two of you laugh so loud it catches the attention of the others across the way. You wave your hand at Ragatha’s confused expression and further try to prevent the two of you from falling.

“I hate to intrude on this moment of merriment but,” Caine clears his throat, looking between the two of you with confused concern. “You two do know I’m not your father, yes?”

Jibba lets out a scream that turns everyone’s attention back onto you two, only to follow with nearly scream-level laughter from the man. You can’t really blame him though because you haven’t stopped laughing either, especially not long enough to try and explain to Caine that the two of you weren’t calling him father.

You give Caine what one could only describe as some form of yes as an answer before telling him he can go between cries and Caine leaves hesitantly. Your sides are starting to ache from so much laughing, meanwhile, Jibba has his face buried into his hands and is leaning into your shoulder like you’d be able to stop his laughter and tears.

He’s taking this a lot funnier than you but man, “denture daddy” is gonna always be in the back of your mind when you look at Caine from now on.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #the amazing digital circus oc #tadc oc #tadc original character #original character x reader #tadc rhett (oc)#tadc jibba (oc)

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ladylooch · 9 months

Note

BTS of Stella on that bus ride with Connor and David 🤭

A/N: So bestie 👆🏻 and I had already talked about Stella on the bus. But I did get another ask about it this morning! Thank you Nonnie! How you enjoy this adorable sweetness.

“Hey! Boys!” Connor yells out to the bus as he steps on with a bouncy Stella in his arms. “Baby coming on board. Keep it clean.” Connor wasn’t entirely worried about that tonight. There is a sour mood over the boys after losing to a close rival in the waining seconds of the game. He feels similar, but having to transition quickly into dad mode means he doesn’t get to wallow in it like the rest of them.

“Stell!” David yells. “Come sit by me!”

“Okay!” She exclaims, pointing to her daddy to go towards his defensive partner.

“Luc is pissed at me, isn’t she?” David asks when they get to his row.

“Well you’re not currently her favorite person.” Connor says, sitting down next to him.

“I know you already yelled at me during the game, but it wasn’t intentional. Are you mad?” Connor slowly turns to his D partner, giving him a ‘duh’ look.

“My wife is sleeping at Lio’s tonight. I’m solo parenting, which means I can’t have a beer. I don’t get my favorite woman in my bed, curled into my side after a post-game boink. Yeah, I’m still mad.” Connor settles Stella on his lap facing him. Stella looks up at him with big eyes. Her little lips curve into an amused smile. Connor can’t help but grin back, chuckling.

“Kiss?” She puckers her lips aggressively. Connor inhales heavily then attacks her face with kisses. She squeals and giggles, sending infectious happiness through the bus of grumpy Rangers. A few of the Russians point and smile, waving at Stella. “Hi!” She yells back, showing them her toothy grin.

The bus releases air to begin the journey back to the New York side of the river. Stella gasps, looking up at her dad.

“We going! I need a snack.” She insists, nodding her head. He reaches into his suit jacket for the bag of Goldfish Lucie handed him. “Open.” She pats his hands.

“Ask nicely.” Connor redirects her demanding energy.

“Peeeeeease?”

“Fuck, she is cute.” David murmurs. Stella gasps again, looking at David then whipping her head back to her dad.

“Yeah, that’s a bad word, huh baby.” He gives David a side eye.

“Oh shit, sorry. Fuck! Sorry! Sorry!” David clasps his hand over his mouth. “Wait, is shit a bad word?” Connor ignores him, but Stella looks concerned.

“He gonna have to put lots of monies in the lego jar.” The concept of the jar is that when they, well when Connor, swears money gets put into the jar for a lego set for Stella.

“Yeah. Daddy is gonna have to front him I’m sure.” Connor grumbles, handing over the opened bag of orange crackers.

“Fishy.” She grins, stuffing one in her mouth. She chews gently, poking her fingers around to grab another one. “For you!” She exclaims, passing one to David.

“Thanks, Stelly Belly.” David eats the cracker. “Ooo, those are good. Can I have one more?”

“No.” Stella says simply. She puts one up to her dad’s lips. Connor sucks it into his mouth, then kisses her fingers.

“Thanks, baby.” Connor observes his daughter, glad to see she is content for the moment. But he knows this will not last. Stella hates sitting for long periods of time and there will be traffic after the game tonight. Getting back will have them in moments of stop and go.

When they get to that first stall, Stella gets antsy.

“No. Go bus. Go!” Stella squeals anxiously. Her hands ball into small fists while she tries to wiggle out of Connor’s hands.

“No. You need to sit here with me until we get off.”

“No! I don’t wanna!”

“How is daddy going to keep you safe if you’re wandering around?” Stella scrunches her nose, squirm harder. “No.” Connor says more firmly, tightening his grasp on her. “Please sit still.” Stella sucks in a big breath, preparing to cry. Oh, here we go.

“Stell, do you know wheels on the bus?” David asks. Stella looks over, confused. She shakes her head no.

“You do, babe. The wheels on the bus go round and…”

“Round!” She yells, eyes widening at the realization she does know. “Yes! Yes! We sing!”

“Boys.” David calls to the rest of the team. “The wheels on the bus go..”

“Round and round.” Some of the boys call back.

“Hey! Let’s go! Wake up! We need to support our little Ranger.”

The next round is louder.

“The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round. The wheels on the bus go round and round, all through the town.”

The deep voices of men drown out Stella’s voice as they sing through all four verses. There is a little confusion in the third verse about what happens to the bus next. But a Canadian rookie googles it and the boys jump back in just as boisterous.

“Beep, beep, beep!” Stella giggles as she sings. Connor tickles her tummy. Some of the boys have their phones out recording to send back to their families.

When the team finishes the song, they all cheer.

“Great job, boys! When are we opening on broadway!?”

A collective laugh goes through the men, then everyone settles down as the bus begins to flow through lighter traffic.

"I spy! I spy!" Stella says as they make their way over the big bridge. This is a game him and Lucie play with her because she gets nervous about the bridge.

"I think it's too dark." Connor tells her, kissing her cheek .

"Oh." She frowns, eyes getting big and sad. David can't have that.

"I spy... something.... blue.” He begins. Stella looks around, trying to see over the big bus seats.

"I can't see." She whines, unsure. Connor sighs. They might need to get another verse of wheels on the bus going stat.

"Yes, you can see it from here." David promises her.

She looks him over, then her dad, not seeing any blue. Connor gives her jersey a little tug by the hem. Stella throws her hands wide on her chest.

"Me!" She squeals. David cheers and Stella collapses into giggles.

"It's you!”

Stella giggles excitedly. Then, she suddenly lays her head on Connor's chest, looking at David. She reaches out for him to hold her hand while her long lashes begin to close. Her baggie of goldfish is half falling out of her hand. She is suddenly so tried, literally crashing. Too tired to even fight the sleep anymore.

Stella keeps gripping two of his fingers as she falls asleep. Her small hand can barely get around the big defenseman’s appendages. Her cheeks become pink from being sleepy. Her pig tails are lopsided from all her I spy searching and whipping her head around at every noise. Her cheek smooshes deeper into Connor's chest as her mouth opens to pull in puffs of air.

"How do you and Lucie only have one kid?” David asks. Connor is rubbing Stella's back over her jersey, helping her settle into her sleep. David throws a little pout at the yawn that stretches Stella’s mouth open.

"Lucie won't let me get her pregnant again.” Connor moves to his right to see if Stella is sleeping. She’s close. He grabs her bag of gold fish so it doesn’t spill all over the floor.

“You gotta wear her down man. The world needs more of these kids.” Conner smiles, kissing the top of his daughter’s head. “Maybe you’ll get a boy?”

“Honestly man, I kinda want all girls.”

#Lio & Lucie

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claireverlasting · 1 year

Note

41 and 12 for the ask game?

41. What are some lines from musicals you really like?

Don't be afraid of death, Winnie. Be afraid of not being truly alive. You don’t need to live forever, you just need to live - tuck everlasting

Try to walk all over us, we'll stomp all over you - newsies (this makes me wanna bang my head against the table/pos)

To the world we dream about, and the one we live in now - hadestown

You're not good, you're not bad, you're just nice. I'm not good, I'm not nice, I'm just right - into the woods

How can you soar when you're nailed to the floor? - tick tick boom

But when you’re gone, who remembers your name? Who keeps your flame? Who tells your story? - hamilton

12. Worst stage to screen adaptation?

Short answer: Dear Evan Hansen, no one asked for a movie why didn’t they give us a proshot with the obc

Long answer:

Oh boy, ohhhhhh boy *crack knuckles*

It has to be Dear fucking Evan Hansen. For a show that has the og team in the writing room I don’t know how on the fucking earth they missed the whole story completely.

They did not realize the original plot has already walked on the edge of That Is Fucked Up and was on thin ice from falling into the Problematic Cringe Theatre Hell. They were like oh it’ll be fineeeee we can totally remove these import parts and it’ll be fineeeeee. Like bro. BRO.

A huge part of the story relies on a) Evan’s connection towards Connor, and b) The story acknowledges how Not Okay Evan’s actions are. And what did they do? Butcher the script until it highlights the worst possible part of the story. I don’t even give a flying fuck about Ben Platt being too old for the role or whatever, I can’t tell people’s age anyway, but not even the most talented and 17-years-old actor can save that monstrosity of a script, and that’s the same guy that wrote the musical one! Like how👏did👏you👏not👏see👏it👏

The thing that motivated Evan to do all the stuff in the story is that he saw himself in Connor, and you can see a lot of his action was based on “What if I’m the one that was dead, what would I want people to do”. You got Anybody Have a Map, Disappear, and ghost Connor, you cut those, you cut the connections between the two characters and Evan’s inner struggles. And they made Alana the one to suggest a Connor Project as an attempt to make Evan looked more blameless in the whole ordeal. I can’t believe I need to spell it out but it did😑not😑work😑like😑that😑, you just make Alana looked manipulative, and the whole thing can be avoided if you didn’t cut Disappear. And there are Jared and Good For You, without someone that is boinking Evan on the head like “Dude please stop”, it just looks like the story is excusing his actions.

In conclusion, they thought it’ll work better if they make Evan more out of control of his situation and overall more “Opps shit happened around me and I just went along with it”, I saw a post somewhere that said that making the character directly responsible to the thing that happened makes them more sympathetic (or smt) and it applied to this situation so much. In the musical we see a teenager that make terrible decisions as an attempt to make things better, but in the movie we just see an opportunist that is manipulative and did all of the stuff to get into a girl’s pants

#and cut!!#that got out of hand #do send me askes about how much deh movie fucked up #I need motivation to talk about that #ask game!#cam :)#tuck everlasting #tuck everlasting the musical #newsies #hadestown #into the woods #tick tick boom #hamilton #dear evan hansen #deh movie

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dynamoe · 2 years

Text

on AO3 | Pro | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 |Ch 4| Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 ...Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12

Billy describes his mother's passion for the 40th president of the United States. Pete floats a conspiratorial theory as they return to the hotel to face their enemy. save your eyes and read it on AO3.

Billy was staring into the middle distance, drifting off. He sighed, suddenly remembering this great pair of socks he used to have. Whatever happened to those? Lost, probably.

Pete galumphed back into his seat with a clatter with frosting smeared on his face. As he dropped something in a bag under the table, Billy was jostled back to consciousness.

“You ok, fella?”

“Yeah, just remembering something that happened when I was a kid, I think,” Billy muttered, re-situating himself in waking life, “What the fuck were you doing over there?”

“Signing up for the poetry slam,” Pete pulled a stub of a maple long john wrapped in a napkin out of his pocket and stuffed it into his mouth.”

Billy looked around the room groggily, “Just twelve hours ago we were back in the trailer…”

“You, pal, could use another cup of coffee.”

“I just want a shower and to go to bed. Just to take off this fucking horrible suit,” Billy groused, pulling down the short pants hem for the ten thousandth time that day.

Pete’s attention was wandering, he peered over Billy’s shoulder into the back room. “Wow, look at how they networked all the PCs back there. I wonder what kind of router they used”

“Don’t you wanna hear the rest of my story?”

Pete turned back with a patronizing grin, “Sure I do, pally. Absolutely.”

“Dr. Putnam was at our house every Sunday for dinner. He claimed these were “strategy sessions,” but I think he just wanted a free meal. Mom always tried to impress him with fancy food. She never made me Veal Piccata, but for fuckin' Peebo Putnam, we got Veal Piccata.”

On the apple box-sized stage at the back of the room, an MC got up with a mic in a stand. He muttered an announcement that the poetry slam was about to begin and exhorted wannabe poets to get their names in the bucket. Pete clucked his tongue at such inelegant host-craft.

Billy counted on his fingers, “Dinner. Dessert. Maybe one round of Scrabble and then I was sent to bed, but I could hear them laughing and talking for the next 5 hours. My room didn’t have a door. It was just a linen closet with a bed in it.”

“You had to sleep on a shelf with the towels?”

“No, the linens were somewhere else. It was entirely my room … it was just… it didn’t have a door. So I had to hear them… doing things.”

“Ew.”

“By the end of first grade though, Putnam had a rival for mom’s affections. Ronald. Wilson. Motherfucking. Reagan.”

Pete’s jaw dropped. “Talk about burying the lead! Your ma was BOINKING Ronnie Raygun?”

Billy looked stricken. “No, no, no. Nothing like that. She just really, really liked him as a candidate. She volunteered to get him elected. She canvased!”

Pete slumped, “Oh, that’s not even interesting.”

"It was to her. She met him once, I think, when he was governor of California or head of the Screen Actors' Guild or something and just... fell for it. The whole..." Billy gestured vaguely, "The whole ambience of that campaign was just her wheelhouse. That melodramatic emotional 'morning in America' ... standing up for righteous American values in the face of hippies and communists."

A buzz. Pete looked down at his pager.

“She never met a Satanic Panic she didn’t 100% buy into. It was exhausting," Billy said, "She thought rock n’ roll turned you gay. Trick-or-treating and playing Dungeons & Dragons was a gateway to Satanism. Smoking dope once made you into a serial murderer."

"That only happen, like, half... maybe a third the time," Pete smirked.

"She was a great organizer and volunteer. She was precinct captain for our region then our whole state. She worked her way up to be a big fucking deal, I guess," Billy said as he watched two girls with shaved heads decorate the poetry stage with strings of Christmas lights, "All I cared was it meant she was too busy to force me to do dumb pageants and Boy Genius contests for that whole election season. I was a latchkey kid because of Ronnie."

Pete poked the buttons of the pager and got a half-line of text, "It’s the airport beepin' me. Is there a payphone in here?"

Billy shrugged as Pete took off on a quest to check his messages. The MC was back on the stage making vague announcements about weekly events at Harsh Realm Internet Cafe. The first poets were queuing up along the wall with the community bulletin board— mostly squat, angry-faced white dudes in baseball caps. He sighed and looked at his watch. They really needed to get back to the hotel or he was going to fall asleep right at the table and he didn't favor the chances of dredging up his memories inspiring good dreams.

The MC held up his bucket full of names written on slips of paper, shook it up, and pulled one out. He said a name and one of the squat ballcaps slumped onto the stage. He delivered a rant about something that was irritating him, over-articulating certain words, repeating himself and pausing mid-sentence whenever he wanted to. Billy didn't see how this was poetry— he'd more accurately describe it as a monologue with arbitrarily line breaks performed by a man in the midst of a stroke.

White slid back to the table, "What I miss?"

"I figured it out," Billy said, bored, "Slam Poetry is really just an excuse for people who wish they could rap but have no rhythm to get on a stage and speak in incomplete sentences."

The man finished (or maybe just paused for slightly too long). The audience applauded and snapped as the MC ushered him off. He swirled his bucket again and called out "Chalky Snowdrift? Are you here?"

Pete fished the bag out from under the table, removed an oversized black turtleneck sweater, and approached the stage while slipping it on.

"Oh god," Billy moaned with his head propped in his hands, fearing the worst.

"Ode to An Internet Cafe," Pete announced his title into the mic before stepping back adopting a strange angular posture.

"Angle bracket. Aitch. Tee. Em. El. Close bracket.”

White changed to another angular posture, his elbows bent at right angles.

"Angle bracket. Head. Close bracket. Angle bracket. Title. Close bracket.”

White leaned back and screamed at the ceiling, "THIS IS THE TITLE OF MY PAGE!”

He resumed his strange body position but with his arm position reversed.

"Angle bracket. Backslash. Title. Close bracket. Angle bracket. Backslash. Head. Close bracket."

He leaned in close to the mic:

“Angle bracket… Body... Close bracket... Angle bracket. P. Close bracket.”

He glanced left and right and then whispered, “This is where my content goes.”

He jumped back from the mic and rapidly rattled off, “Angle bracket. Backslash. P. Close bracket. Angle bracket. Backslash. Body. Close bracket. Angle bracket. Backslash. H. T. M. L. Close bracket.”

“We ARE connecting. Dial up. Digital Handshake. Upload.”

Pete leaned back and screamed as loud as he could “Bweeeeeeeeeeeeee-GAAAAAA-Wwwhhhhrrrr Weeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhh-waaa-WEEE Bbbbbhhhhhhhhhh KEE bungk-uh-bungk!”

The crowd was baffled, but snapped supportively. Pete walked off the stage directly into the crowd and passed Billy’s table.

“The airport found our luggage and sent it to the hotel. Let’s get out of here,” he said without stopping, heading for the exit. Billy hopped up and followed him out.

Trudging towards their hotel on the horizon, it was so late that the streets were entirely vacated.

“I didn’t talk politics with mom. I didn’t have any. I was a little kid, what the fuck did I know?” Billy continued.

“Yeah, sure,” Pete took a small foil packet out of his pocket and flipped it back and forth, only half listening.

“Whatever she did for the campaign impressed Reagan’s people enough that after inauguration, they offered her a job. Something worth moving us down to Washington, DC with no notice.”

Pete ripped the packet and tossed the tablets inside down his throat.

"What the fuck is that?"

"They were selling it in the coffee shop. I bought a couple," he showed the packet labeled "HERBAL ECSTACY (sic)" in a swoopy typeface over a futuristic glowing green grid, "Plant-based. It's a legal high. It's smart drugs."

"It's ephedrine," Billy said sourly, "It's trucker speed with added marketing."

“It’s a perfectly legal, proven, over-the-counter supplement for asthma and weight loss.”

“It’s working wonders for you, fatty," Billy rolled his eye, "You’re going to have a fucking heart attack.”

MOVING DAY

Rose taped up another moving box and wrote across the cardboard with a Sharpie: “KITCHEN.”

She called out, “Water-baby, the movers are coming at 1 PM so we need all the boxes ready.”

“I’m done already,” Li'l Billy’s voice squeaked back.

His mother ducked her head into the closet she had converted into a bedroom for Billy. He pointed to nine boxes of his book collection, each labeled in his tiny juvenile scrawl with a full itemized list of its contents.

Billy lay on his stripped mattress staring at the ceiling, stacking plastic Playmobil horses on his forehead. He had beaten his personal best of four horses, but didn’t look enthusiastic about his achievement. His Rusty Venture doll’s foot lodged in his mouth, he sucked contemplatively like it was a hookah. The plastic texture of the embossed shoelaces was comforting in his mouth.

In the middle of the floor sat an indifferent pile of trophies, framed award certificates and blue ribbons. “Awww. You forgot to pack your Genius prizes.”

“I don’t care about those,” Billy rolled over on his mattress, sending the vertical herd of plastic horses tumbling, “Throw them out.”

“Are you being a sour pickle about moving?” Rose asked, sitting on the mattress next to him and giving his tiny shoulder a shake.

Li'l Billy made a wheezy noise, neither confirming or denying anything.

He never went anywhere that wasn’t directed by his mother or Prof. Peebo. Whether they were in the suburbs of New York or the suburbs of Washington, D.C., his world wasn’t going to change significantly.

“We need to move for Mama’s new job. The President asked Mama to sort out some naughty bad guys in other countries. Mama can’t say no to the The President, right?”

“Do I still have to do the boy genius stuff,” Li'l Billy asked, ruefully.

“Of course, water-baby!" Mom said cheerfully, choosing not to hear the negative lean her son put on the question.

Li'l Billy huffed, this time with more irritation. A new thought occurred to him— Prof. Peebo lived in Manhattan so maybe moving away would mean they’d see less of him.

"We moved to a real house, like something out of a sitcom. I had a bedroom with a door. We had a real dinner table to sit at. I rode a yellow bus to school. She marked my height on the wall on my birthday," Billy outlined, "She wore a power skirt-suit with puffy white Reeboks when she took the Metro to her office. It was all totally normal."

"So what's not to like?"

"She went overseas maybe every month... every three weeks. Something like that. She'd be gone for a couple days," Billy explained, "I later found out she was flying out of Dulles in DC and back into LaGuardia to spend the weekend with Peebo. Then she took the train down to DC after to see me. Sometimes she'd have weird injuries, too. Broken arm. Scratches. "

“Billy, did your mom do Iran-Contra?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re too close to the story. Missing the forest for the trees, right. From where I'm standin' it's crystal f'ing clear she was a bagman for the CIA... Special Forces... Black Ops....

“Are you fucking high?” Billy shouted in shock, “How many of those herbal ecstasy packets did you eat?”

“Maybe more than bagman,” Pete blue-sky theorized, “A little wet work as Ronnie’s personal representative. Lead some interrogations. Sold some weapons. Cut off some thumbs…”

Billy’s jaw dropped. He shook his head to clear his mind before reasoning with his senior partner, “Ok, ok, ok. I get it. You never met her. My mother is basically me minus a Y chromosome and plus a foot and half. She’s a middle-aged suburbanite. She shops at Talbots. She laughs at Cathy cartoons. She’s like… a mom. ”

“A perfect cover,” White said.

“She had no experience telling Contras how to burn down villages. She taught at the Y not at the School of the Americas.”

“She went overseas for her job, right? And brought you back souvenirs from every trip.”

Billy scrunched his face rolling back his claimed photographic memory as he listed off, “A cigar box from Nicaragua. A little pottery egg with a tiny person inside from El Salvador— they call them sorpresas there. A tiny rug from Iran. Hat from Panama. A stuffed penguin from the Falkland Islands—”

“Cross-reference with CIA activity 1981 to 1988.”

“I’m not the computer of the Enterprise, you chode. You can’t issue commands like that.”

“Tea. Earl Grey. Blow it up your ass,” Pete commanded in an awful imitation of Patrick Stewart.

“She was, like, some kind of government PR person. Maybe she coordinated stuff for the USO, entertaining the troops?”

“Not a lot of troops to entertain in Iran in 1981,” Pete said laconically, “If you think about it.”

“For a scientist you're way too quick buy into a conspiracy theory without any proof to support it. Correlation does not imply causation, fuckface.”

“Conspiracy Theory? When have I ever—”

“You were sure Kurt Cobain was a secret albino.”

“He was. And there’s loads of proof for it. He even admits it in chorus of Smells Like Teen Spirit.”

“He sang the word ‘albino’ in the lyrics. That’s not the same as being one.”

“You’re just pissy you’ll never be in a song because nothing rhymes with ‘hydrocephalic.'”

“ Teen Spirit doesn’t rhyme ‘albino’ with anything either. Unless you think “my libido” is a rhyme.”

Pete held his head at an angle, “Slant rhyme.” Billy shook his head in disgust.

“If Cobain wasn't an albino why do you think he titled the first Nirvana album Bleach, huh?”

“It was named after an anti-heroin campaign encouraging junkies to clean their rigs with bleach to stop spreading hepatitis,“ Billy quizboyed automatically.

“Cover story. Distraction,” White dismissed, “Loads of movie stars and rock musicians are secret albinos. They're all passing, but Kurt was sick of the deception. The CIA had Cobain killed because he was going to go public and bring the whole house of cards down.”

“And my mom was Ollie North’s handler. Riiiiiiiiight”

It wasn’t until they were within a block they noticed the commotion at the front door. Flashing ambulance lights and paramedics struggling to pull a stretcher through the automatic hotel doors that kept closing on them.

They spotted their previously-unflappable science conference host Dr. Alonzo Superwash in the midst of the chaos. He and his young assistant consulted animatedly with a cluster of medical technicians.

Billy ran up to offer help (and maybe get some hands-on experience to go to his med school book-learning), “What happened, Dr. Superwash? Is anyone hurt?”

“Oh! Master Quizboy,” Dr. Alonzo greeted him as cordially as he could through the worry, “... and his assistant, as well.” He less enthusiastically noted White’s less-hurried arrival, “Ah, no. Nothing to be overly concerned about. One of our more elderly conference speakers had a slight transient ischemic attack. He’s being taken into hospital overnight for observation.”

As the stretcher was being shoved into the back of the ambulance, another paramedic rushed out of the hotel pushing an empty motorized wheelchair to be loaded in after the patient.

“Putnam!” White put two-and-two together.

“Yes, our Professor Peebo Putnam, “ Dr. Alonzo confirmed, “I have no doubt he’ll make a full recovery but at his advanced age any cardiac incident must be fully investigated.”

White eyed Billy suspiciously and muttered under his breath, “Did you do this?”

Billy watched the ambulance pull away, still gobsmacked.

“Well that’s convenient,” White said callously, “Always nice when a problem takes care of itself.”

“Don’t go on any physically-demanding vengeance quests when pushing 100,” Billy stated the lesson-learned, as he pushed through the revolving door of the hotel lobby.

"Master Quizboy," the front desk worker called out, "Mr. White, Master Quizboy!"

They approached the front desk, White picking up a lobby chair en route and sliding it in place for Billy to stand on.

"Two messages. The airport sent your found luggage and we placed it in your room an hour ago."

"Fantastic," White said.

"Master Quizboy, a message from the, uh, Boy Genius Consortium," the desk concierge tried to deliver with a straight face, "An invitation to a meeting in Room 506."

Billy took the note, from several hours earlier, "Shit. I probably missed it. Should I go anyway?"

White considered, "Show up anyway to give your regrets. I'll deal with the luggage."

Billy nodded.

THE CONCLAVE OF BOY GENII

“Ah, Master Quizboy. We had all but written you off,” remarked the host as he opened the door with heavy-eyed amusement. He was an older boy, maybe 14 or 15 with a British Public School accent and attitude— exquisite politeness forced out by the weight of weary perpetual annoyance.

“I only just got your message,” Billy explained, “We were out all day and got caught up in an… ordeal.”

The host let his glance dip down and take in Billy’s fountain-soaked-then-awkwardly-dried, pho-stained suit and clumpy hair. Billy suddenly realized he should have made some attempt to clean up before coming but it was too late now.

“I see,” he whiffed judgmentally, “No matter. Viswanathan Suryanarayanan Semmangudi Chandrasekhar. Call me ‘Nigel.’” He held out a hand. Billy shook it, “Very chuffed to make your acquaintance,”

“The same, I …. Holy Shit, you’re V.S.S.Chandarasekhar @protonhouse.edu from the Alt.Rec.BoyGenius newsgroup!”

“I am. Do I know you?”

He did. Unfortunately. The two had been locked in two-man flame duels that went on for hundreds of posts. Nigel’s flippant cantankerousness, unsubtle marshaling of sock-puppets and lack of netiquette was a thorn in Billy’s side as the senior mod of the board, but as Billy’s online persona was openly a retired Boy Genius Emeritus of advanced age he couldn’t reveal his online persona there.The whole online community celebrated Billy’s birthday online with ASCII art and Monty Python quotations— his online persona was far from 11.

“I read the newsgroup but I’m just a lurker,” Billy lied, “It’s a little intimidating to jump in.”

“Nonsense. They’re just 1s and 0s, emphasis on the ZEROES. As, a bunch of losers,” Nigel winked roguishly.

An empty pizza box lay on the bed and the dregs of potato chips and a few sad M&Ms left in a bowl; the party had petered out long ago.

“Now we finally have the complete set,” Nigel announced to the room to no reaction.

“I’m really sorry I’m so late,” Billy apologized awkwardly to a continued lack of reaction, “I figured you all would have gone to bed.”

“Just taking advantage of all of our jet lag from different time zones. Let me introduce you around.”

Two boys crouched over a tiny magnetic chess set. A third looked on, holding the time clock.

“Oh no,” Billy thought, “Chess guys.”

“Jun-seok Byun,” Nigel indicated the black-haired boy moving his Queen to Rook 5.

“안녕하세요” Billy said with a slight bow.

Jun-seok didn’t even look up from the chessboard, “혀에 무슨 문제 있어? 당신은 바보 같은 소리.”

“Byun specializes in computer science,” Nigel said in an aside, “And Leonid Valeryevich Kitov of Moscow. Chess and Mathematics.”

«Здрасьте,» Billy said.

An unsmiling boy with sandy hair shot a glance over his shoulder, “Извините, ваше произношение звучит отвратительно.”

Billy frowned. Boy geniuses had a reputation for being direct to the point of rudeness, but two insults about his pronunciation in a row was too much for his ego. He made an effort, didn’t that count for anything?

Nigel finally indicated the clock-keeper, a tiny blond boy wearing a World War II-era full-face gas mask, “Nathaniel—”

The blonde boy stamped his foot, “No, I’m “The Heretic.” You have to call me that. I’m ‘The Heretic.’”

“I won’t be doing that, Nathaniel,” Nigel said coldly, turning to Billy, “Specialty: rhetoric and oratory, Biblical prophecy.”

Billy waved meekly to the boy in the gas mask before asking Nigel, “The guestbook said there were six of us at the conference, isn’t there another boy genius here?”

Nigel looked even more sour, “Yes, unfortunately.”

The door to the second room of the suite opened and a jangling contraption rolled rapidly up to Billy. A six-month-old baby in a partially-roboticized highchair approached, bouncing and huffing excitedly.

“Billy Quizboy, may I introduce young Jayden Lee Brandon.”

Billy looked confused, “But it’s a baby.”

“Just as I am the eldest of our number, Master Jayden is the most junior. I am assured that his IQ is so astronomical it puts all of us to shame.”

The baby squeaked and huffed as drool trickled out of his mouth. He kicked his feet in excitement.

“But it’s a baby,” Billy repeated, “How could they know—”

The baby smacked his wiggly hands on a series of dome shaped buttons on his high-chair tray. They reminded Billy of quiz show buzzers but each emitted a pre-recorded sound of a woman’s voice saying a single word: “Hello. Hello. Friend. Yes. Hello. Jayden. Jayden.”

Nigel explained, “I’m told he has a much more elaborate communication device in his home laboratory but is rather limited by technology on the road. Nonetheless, I believe one should wait to make their Super Science Conference debut until after the probability of shitting oneself is reduced to zero.”

Jayden’s puffy face curled into a furious pout. He smacked a button, “Mad.”

“Don’t get stroppy. It’s a medical fact.”

“Mad. Jayden. No. Friend.”

“Someone’s getting cranky. Is it bedtime for Jayden?”

“Mad.”

“Step out on the balcony with me, Quizboy,” Nigel said wearily, “This room smells too much like INFANTS.”

“No. Friend. Jayden. Mad. No. Friend. Diaper. Mad Mad.” Jayden kept pressing as he started to cry.

Billy followed Nigel through the French doors onto the balcony. Nigel sighed over-dramatically as he pulled a clove cigarette from his blazer pocket.

“You don’t mind?” he asked, the cigarette between his lips and lighting it before he got an answer.

Billy felt relieved and took a battered-looking cigarette from his pocket as well, “Can I bum a light?”

“It’ll stunt your growth, don’t you know,” Nigel mockingly warned.

Billy shrugged, “The hypopituitarism already does that.”

“You seem an alright chap, Quizboy. Someone I could talk to. Those other anoraks seem a bit wet.”

“They’re fine. They’re just kids.”

“So are you.”

Billy shrugged.

“I shouldn’t have come to the conference again. I’m definitely too old for this.”

Billy nodded, “Most of us retire at 14.”

“I just thought maybe I could make some connections. I’m finishing school this year.”

“Eton?”

Nigel looked offended, “Oxford. Reading PPE and Classics. Now I have to decide whether to stay on for Law School or go directly into politics.”

“The tabloids love a political wunderkind. You could be the William Hague of the '90s."

“You follow our politics? How amusing.”

Billy shrugged again, “Caught Prime Minister's Questions on CSPAN-2 a couple times. Honestly, I learn more from the Doctor Who/Blake’s 7/Red Dwarf late-night block on PBS.”

“The bigger conundrum, though, has come in the form of an invitation I received quite out of the blue.”

Billy leaned in.

“I’m not sure if I should even mention it but I’m considering turning evil.”

Billy was confused. ‘Evil? Like…intentionally, actually evil?”

“Not conventionally evil— amoral and greedy and corrupt. I could go into politics for that. I mean, to become villainous. Supra-villainous, even. Daring feats of crime and mass conquest. Chewing the scenery and swooping in from the rafters.”

“I didn’t know that was a career option,” Billy offered tentatively, not sure if this was that ‘dry British humor.’

“Nor did I until I received this note under my door this morning. It seems there are villainous recruiters among us, scouting for persuadable bright young thing,” Nigel said, showing Billy a short handwritten invitation on heavy charcoal gray paper with an embossed seal of a dragon in gold at the top, “Seems their side is also having a brain drain and age gap."

“Why would you even want to consider this?” Billy said, disgusted.

Nigel let a slight smile spread over his face, “Oh I don’t know. Seems like it could be a brilliant laugh.”

“There is a signing bonus for genuine British accents,” Billy remembered.

“So you know about it? The Guild?”

Billy cursed internally for letting his knowledge slip, but it wasn’t worth denying it, “There’s a similar bonus for candidates with deformities.” He fanned his mechanical hand towards his missing eye in demonstration, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“You must have made a big impression,” Nigel considered, “ Scouted for evil despite being so young.”

“I’m an old soul,” Billy scoffed, dropping his cigarette and scuffing it out with his shoe, “Sometimes I feel like I’m a million years old.”

“You’re an odd duck, Quizboy,” Nigel said, intrigued, “You’re hiding something, I can tell. I’m going to keep my eye on you.”

“Just don’t tie me to any railroad tracks when you’re a villain,” Billy said with his hands up, laughing it off as he strode casually back into the room.

The chess game must have ended, the players were gone. The baby was asleep in his chair, probably tuckered himself out with that tantrum.

“Are you going?” a small voice piped up from behind him. Billy startled, turned to see The Heretic behind him, watching scrambled pornography with his face pressed up against the TV screen.

“Yeah, this party’s kinda dead,” Billy said, trying to sound far cooler than he was.

“See you at the youth workshop tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I dunno… maybe… I got a lotta stuff going on…” Billy shrugged as he walked out of the room cool as a cucumber. Out of the door and into the hallway, sure that he was out of sight, Billy bolted into a panicked run down the hall to the elevator. He clicked the button over and over.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Billy repeated to himself like an anxiety mantra, “He knows. Dammit. Lord Fucking Snooty figured it out.”

“I got rumbled,” Billy yelped in a panic, throwing the door to their room open, “Shit. He definitely suspects I’m lying about my age. That fucking kid’s gonna out me. Or blackmail me!”

Pete turned around dramatically, wearing a rose-pink taffeta prom dress with a cascading tiered ruffle skirt.,

Billy’s jaw dropped, “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“Got some bad news, pally,” Pete pointed to the bag, “This ain’t our luggage.”

____

on AO3 | Pro | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 |Ch 4| Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 10| Ch 11| Ch 12

Today is my FIRSTAVERSARY of posting Boy Genius. One Year Old today. I'm filled with pride and shame in equal measure. Thank you to everyone for sticking with it, for reading, for discovering it, for sharing it and for commenting.

I write without a plan. I create set ups and then worry about them when I came to them. I decided White was going to do slam poetry (spread widely in the 90s, PBS even did a multi-part "United States of Poetry" special about it). Originally a person-of-color cultural phenomenon (at places like the Nuyorican Poet's Cafe in NY), it had spread out to boring white suburbanites and it really was, like, rap for people with no rhythm.

White's "poem" is just a simple HTML demo document read aloud ending with the sound of a dial-up model. Aka, the most 1990s thing I could think of.

There was a much longer flashback here which lead to the medical exam flashback posted in the previous chapter. I did it out of order because I have no plan!

The main idea to convey is his mom got recruited to some secret government program and now as a double life that Li'l Billy is not even aware of. Or cares about, because he's a little shitty self-absorbed asshole kid.

Still haven't written any of the confrontation with Prof. Peebo. Maybe I never will. The thread will just get dropped, like the real Venture Bros show always does.

Add Korean and Russian to the list of languages Billy can't pronounce but tries anyway. I tried to find phrases that would be mangled by a lisp, rendering them "zchdraschtche" and "annyeonghascheyo"

Nigel is a pretty badly written character. He needs another draft. I've written him more like a guy pretending to be British than an actual Public School posh git. have a life-long stupid love for British comedy AND British politics, which I have awkwardly injected here.

William Hague got famous for addressing the Tory party conference when he was 16. Baby face, old man voice. By 1997 he was bald and leading the Tory party opposition against Tony Blair.

Mentioning supervillainy and "The Guild" is my only engagement with the larger Venture Bros universe. A little forced.

Baby speaking with a soundboard entirely inspired by BilliSpeaks on youtube. (The name "Jayden" didn't exist before 1992 and it was in the top ten baby names by 1998)

End on Pete wearing a dress. Why not? Something for the fangirls

But what else is in that bag? And why?

Save your eyes and read this on AO3.

on AO3 | Pro | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 |Ch 4| Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 ...Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12

Only a bit more story to go before the big finish. I hope. Maybe only a chapter or two more?

#ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #AO3 #boy genius #fiction #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #story #vbros #venturebros #venture brothers #master billy quizboy #pete white

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the-invisible-queer · 1 year

Note

For the weird Al ask game: 1, 2, 8, 12, 15, 16, 28!

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE BESTIE

How did you first get into Weird Al?

In fifth grade, two of my neighbors followed me home singing "White & Nerdy" and I finally snapped when we were outside my house - in near tears - and asked them why they were being assholes and they were like "it's just a song". So I went upstairs and looked up "White & Nerdy" on Yahoo Music - this was before YouTube became what it is today. I didn't become a die-hard fan til I discovered his Michael Jackson parodies because Michael was one of my childhood crushes so I knew his discography front and back. And I've been a stan ever since.

2. What was the last song by Al you listened to?

I believe it was "Craigslist" which I posted about earlier.

8. Favorite music video?

THAT'S A GOOD QUESTION! I have no clue. It used to be "Close But No Cigar" before we learned the main animator is a piece of shit and deserves to be behind bars. But I do enjoy the video for "Polka Face" and my favorite segment is the "Womanizer" part with the robot. We stan.

12. What song do you personally relate to the most?

I don't even know bestie. Probably "I'll Be Mellow When I'm Dead" in all honesty.

15. What song(s) would you show people if they had never heard of Weird Al before?

OOOH! It fully depends on the person and their music taste. The safe bets are his most popular. "Like a Surgeon", "Amish Paradise", "Eat It", "Fat", etc. Gives them an idea of what he does.

16. Has Al parodied any of your favorite bands/musicians?

YES! Queen is one of my favorite bands and we all know about "Another One Rides the Bus". Of course, I mentioned my love for Michael Jackson above and Weird Al's paradise of Michael's songs are so fucking good.

28. Favorite polka medley?

I absolutely LOVE all of his polka medleys. Like bro he's so fucking good. But the one that gets stuck in my head CONSTANTLY is "The Alternative Polka" and every time I sing it out loud it throws my family for a loop because they know what those songs are supposed to sound like. But we all love Weird Al in this household so they don't mind my days when I just listen to him on repeat.

Bonus: The part of "The Alternative Polka" that gets stuck in my head the most is "I wanna *boink* you like an animal" and I do say "boink" every time.

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aurorawritestoescape · 3 months

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Kateeeeeeeee 7k of Pre outbreak Joel Miller is a delicious breakfast treat and now Honey I will drown you in my thots just like you deserve 🤭💖

I mean, I would love to be Joel’s treat, but I’d love to be yours way more 😍😋

“You seemed shy and sweet. He had never been against sex work but he always imagined a different type of people in that business.” I kind of made the observation a lot of times that those who are shy and sweet or sometimes on the other side really freaky.😈🤗

Imagine you think a guy wants to ask you out on a date and he’s like “no babes I just want that pussy appointment.” 😁

“I want —, he scratched the back of his neck and continued, “just the usual, I guess.” Me ordering the same comfort food again and again. Sorry I had to laugh 😆

“I don’t think we want it to be ‘just’ sex, Joel. How about we make it special.” Idk why, but I kinda wanna have sex with her and not with him but since I’m her doesn’t that mean I want to have sex with myself?🤔🤭

My God I remember watching “Pretty Woman” and now that I think about it, maybe that put the whole escort/sugar daddy thing into my head 🤯

It’s not only Joel who’s in heaven I am in heaven to reading all of this, Kate I’m serious. I love you. I will say that again and again I will never stop. 😮‍💨💖

“He was dangerously close to coming and painting your mouth creamy white. But he had other plans for you.” I would give a lot to have him paint my mouth creamy white Jesus Christ 🥵🙏🏻(why does it kind of sound like a rhyme?)

“Joel watched pleasure twisting your face while his cock was slowly parting your insides. He moaned at the sensation of your wet warm pussy welcoming him, grasped your hips tightly and when you took all of him, your ass was flush with his balls, you both loudly sighed.” The way you write is just so spectacular it always paints such a clear picture for me to imagine in my head. 😍

Let it be known that if you put your breast in my face, I will most definitely see you as the goddess of my universe and pray to you every single night.😇

“Soon your jeans were discarded on the floor while his head was between your trembling thighs. Joel was licking up your juices straight from the source, grunting into your wet cunt and fucking his tongue into your clenching hole.” I can honestly not decide if I want to be Joel or reader, both are good positions to be in. 🥵🫠😋

“Can I slap your pretty pussy with my cock, sweetheart?” He gripped his cock at the base, squeezing it a little to postpone his climax and when you whispered a sultry ‘yes’ he slapped your clit with the tip of his throbbing length.” I’m begging to be slapped by his cock in the face next……pleaseeeee. You have officially reduced me to a crying little hole 🤭😈

“You didn’t need a single father in your life” hmmm no babe wrong I do need a single father in my life 😌

If I was there that asshole client would’ve gotten his shit rocked. I’m just looking for an excuse to let my anger out and a stupid asshole who makes my girl feel like she’s a cheap hooker seems like the perfect excuse. 😏

I’m so happy that they finally kissed at the end that was probably one of the best birthday gifts he got that day, my heart feels all warm and fuzzy 🥹😍

And then the little snippet of their life together and tem saying I love you to each other ahhhhhhh 🥹❤️

I literally did a little dance when I saw your ask, Mina😍

I’m always so happy to receive them and it’s such a pleasure to get drowned in your thots about this story🙏😁😘 tbh I love when I’m horny not only for the blorbo, but also for reader so I’m very happy to hear that you wanna boink her too😁 can relate ahaha Thank you so much for your reactions and thots! You made me giggle and even blush a few times😏❤️ Love you, baby! I’m sending you kisses and hugs😘🫂🫂🫂 Have a great day!💖💖💖

I know better than to call you mine

#ask💕#Mina💖#the sweetest as always🌷🌷🌷

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annasinterests · 8 months

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Hiiii I saw the other anon you got about your joel x reader series so I just wanted to come on here too and say that I also love your writing and am eager for another chapter!! I never wanted to message you before bc I didn’t wanna sound pushy or like I was demanding you to write more. But since you said it motivates you…. 🙈

Anyways I love your Joel x reader and can’t wait to see where you take them. I was so excited when they finally *boinked* hehe and i can’t wait for them to *boink* again 😏 ok byyeeee!!

anon u gave me a proper belly laugh with that ending LMAO

thank you so much for the kind words my friend!!! please feel free to send a message to my inbox any time, whether it's a comment or question or whatever u have in that brain of yours!

like i said in the previous ask, i've drafted out the next few chapters and i'm very content with where the story is heading for them! i will admit this story turned out being more for me to take on than i expected so i'm always thinking that my plots/subplots are getting messy or don't totally make sense or that i've got the pacing all wrong, but reading these sweet messages from you lovely people on here put me at ease and reassure me that i'm doing okay & on the right track 🩷

#anna answers

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heartheaded · 9 months

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The oracle has spoken and whispered the words "Manifest" that appear on this card!" Jester @piratebento holds up a card with a with a bison's skull to Scanlan. "Now is the time where your manifestation is most potent- Oh, kind of like your seed, I bet- Now is the time if there's something you want you need to really take the time and manifest it clearly in your head and it will come true."

𝄇𝄋𝄋𝄆 < ❝Sick! So I just have to really sit with my desires and picture them clearly and they'll happen? One-of-every-kind boink fest, here I come--❞

Scanlan holds up the card like he'd won a prize, or is showcasing a very particular fictional cub. He then croons towards Jester and waggles his eyebrows.

𝄇𝄋𝄋𝄆 < ❝Wanna be the first in line?❞

#climatact {jester}#DO YOU SPICE? ; scanlan shorthalt #//hey guess what i found

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mindninjax · 3 years

Text

To Shape a Home (11)

Autumn- Chapter 11

Last Chapter | Masterlist | Next Season

Bakugo x Reader

Warnings: oral sex, jokes during sex, as always he’s a lil shit but it’s cute, slight aftercare

WC: 4.2k

a/n: Hi hello and welcome to the boinking. I hope you enjoy my silly sense of humor. lol it’s ok they’re soulmates so it’s cute. Bahahahh Enjoy!

Katsuki is sure he made the right choice. All day he’s gone back and forth, thinking it over time and time again. All day he’s weighed the pros and cons, made lists, talked himself into and out of ideas. Hell, he’d even done a stupid eeny meeny miny mo game and in the end the decision was always the same.

He wanted you. He wanted anything you’d give him. A moment, a few years, or maybe a lifetime he didn’t care.

It wasn’t until he heard you sing that he truly knew. When he heard you the decision had made itself. Just one lyric. Again he thinks you must have some fucking super power. You always know what to say and do at exactly the right time because Katsuki knew he didn’t want to miss out on his chance with you. The lyrics dance around his mind again.

Don’t it always seem to go

That you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone.

He didn’t want to watch you go and think about how much he should’ve kissed you and told you how he felt. He wanted no regrets. All he wanted was you.

Now you’re sitting in his truck on the way to his home. You haven’t stopped smiling since the kiss and if Katsuki wasn’t so fucking nervous about his next step he’d probably be a smiling dummy as well. You squeeze his hand for the fifth time, as he keeps one hand on the wheel and gazes at the way your fingers wrap around his calloused hands. It fits perfectly in his palm and every time you squeeze, a shock of energy and some warm dumb feeling settles deeper into his gut.

The sun is setting, leaving it’s miraculous string of colors in the sky, both warm and cool colors blending to make a gradient Katsuki is sure can only be witnessed from the wilderness on his farm. When he pulls up his driveway and helps you down out of his truck he takes your hand and guides you into the house. He’s nervous again, heart pounding in his chest as he opens the door and lets you step in.

This is the right choice. Yeah, maybe there will be a chance you walk away but, he’s decided it’s a risk he wants to take. You stroll into the foyer, pulling your thick cardigan from your shoulders.

“So what’s for dinner?” you ask excitedly.

“Wanna show ya somethin’ first. Keep your shoes on and follow me,” he replies, taking your hand as you gaze at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong? We visiting the girls first?”

Katsuki smirks. He likes the way you say “the girls”, like you’re familiar with them. Like you belong. He opens the back door and pulls you out onto the porch, holding his breath.

You gasp, and breathe out an amazed “Oh my god,” as a gentle breeze rolls through your hair and flowy dress and your sweet scent billows into Katsuki's nose.

The big old oak tree, the one you were amazed by the first time you came here now sits illuminated by handmade paper lanterns Katsuki has hung from the low hanging branches. The sky behind it looks beautiful, splattered with shades of pink and purple as the sun slowly descends out of the sky. The remaining golden glow peaks behind the nearly naked branches and the remaining red leaves look like a brilliant warm flame as they catch on the soft light of the lanterns.

The sight takes your breath away and Katsuki watches you as you stumble forward, drawn in by the gorgeous sight. Your lips are slightly parted, your eyes wide as your irises find the last glimmer of sunlight. Katsuki noticed the first time he gazed into your eyes, that first day he met you he noticed that your eyes always catch the sun. He used to find it annoying how you were glowing, how your eyes were so clear, and how it was so hard to get them out of his head. But now, he’d give anything to have this moment replayed in his mind forever.

“You… you did this? Why?” you breathe out incredulously.

Tsk, is it not obvious? Fucking hell he’s gonna have to spell this out to you, isn’t he?

He huffs, “You said you wanted to paint it right? If yer doing a painting of my farm I obviously gotta make sure it looks the best,” he boasts lifting his chin in pride.

He can see the apples of your cheeks lift as you smile, yet your eyes stay fixed on the tree in front of you. You step out of your boots and walk barefoot into the plush grass toward the tree in awe. Katsuki follows behind you, enthralled with how encapsulated you are.

“I uhh…you can come over and paint whenever ya want. I… erm… I made ya a key if you’re interested. I mean if you ain’t comfortable or whatever you don’t gotta stay or anything but I just mean…” He struggles with his words so much he hasn’t noticed that you’ve turned around to stare at him.

He shoves his hands in the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a little silver key. “Yer welcome here. My door’s always open fer you,” he finishes, staring down at his boots nervously.

You’re in his arms, running and leaping up to wrap your arms around his neck and he doesn’t miss a beat when he catches you, scooping his arms underneath your ass. You’re hugging him tightly, burying your face into his neck and mumbling something over and over that he can’t quite make out.

“Hah? What’re ya–”

“I don’t feel like an outsider anymore,” you say, pulling back from his neck to stare into his eyes.

Your cheeks are glistening and a spare tear falls down your face as he watches you. He wipes it away gently with his thumb, moving it down to trace your lips as you lean your forehead against his. He sighs. All this time he knew you felt like an outsider. He’s glad he can give this to you. This is the best feeling in the world and if he could jar it up the way you taught him how to jar up his vegetables, he’d keep it on his shelf forever.

“You were never an outsider, dummy,” he replies.

Katsuki folds the key into your palm and then plasters his lips against yours again. You squeeze your legs around his waist pressing your breasts against his body and deepening the kiss. He hears a tiny moan when you part your lips and he slips his tongue into your mouth. Blood pumps straight to his groin and his fingers dig into the globes of your ass.

“Kinda chilly for a blanket under a big tree but uhh…” he starts, gazing into your eyes before he gently presses another kiss to your lips. You raise an eyebrow and smirk knowingly.

He wants you, he’s tired of beating around the bush.

In a husky grunt he hisses through his teeth, “I want you.”

Slowly you fist your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, your breathing increases, your thighs tighten around his waist and you grind expertly against the rapidly growing bulge in his pants. He sucks in air through his teeth when you pull lightly at his hair. Your eyelids are heavy and you lick your lips and look up at him through your eyelashes. Fucking hell if you keep looking at him like this, he’ll take you right here on the lawn. He needs to hear you.

You brush your lips against his and whisper the answer Katsuki has been waiting for.

“Please.”

It’s been a while since Katsuki has had anyone in his bed, but fuck if you don’t look absolutely perfect in it right now. He could spend hours staring and mapping out the planes and courses of your body. He revels in the way his fevered skin feels against yours, the way his lips move to all the places on your body he knows will make you squirm and squeal. You even bless him with a giggle when he kisses gently down the side of your jaw and flicks the tip of his tongue on the lobe of your ear.

“Mmm tickles,” you breathe with a huge smile.

Better get all your laughs out now sweetheart, cuz the rest of the night you’ll be screaming.

It’s been too long since he’s felt the soft hands and plush thighs and hot cunt of a woman aroud his cock and although he’s aching to be inside you, Katsuki decides to take his fucking time. He remembers what you said back in the cellar. It’s been a while for you too. Which means, he’ll be the first to fuck you in a while. So he should make it count. He should have you screaming until your throat is raw and he will.

As if you can read his mind you wiggle your hips and groan and he chuckles.

“Impatient arentcha?’ he teases, kneading your waist through the fabric of your dress.

Katsuki pulls the straps of your dress down tracing your collar bones with his tongue. Your sighs and the way you grasp his shirt let him know he’s on the right track. Shit, if your sighs are enough to make his cock jump in his pants, he can’t imagine what your whines and moans will do to him. The imagined sounds of you mewling his name as he tasted you speeds up his progress a bit. He’s pulling your dress down your body, kissing a trail as your breasts–finally– are exposed to him.

He pauses to take you in, eyes rolling over your frame as he smirks.

“You’ve got such perfect fucking tits,” he says as he palms one of the warm lumps of flesh. He leans down to kiss between your cleavage, sighing at how warm and soft it feels.

You giggle again, “Thanks, I grew ‘em myself,” you joke as he rolls his eyes and continues kissing down your body.

Unbelievable. “My face is between your tits right now and you’re makin’ jokes?”

“Mmm hmm, whatcha gonna do about it?” you challenge pulling your bottom lip up between your sparkling teeth. The bratty little glint in your eyes awakens a deeper hunger in him.

He latches on to your nipple with a growl, biting down on the raised bud before licking to soothe the pain. You arch your back and moan loudly, pushing your chest further into his mouth. The vibration of his growl makes your fingers dig into the sheets.

With the dress discarded over his shoulder, Katsuki is able to fully take in your body. It’s perfect although you’re still wearing underwear but he knows if your body is this perfect, your pussy must be the promised land. You chew on your nail, eyes flicking up and down at him.

“Like what you see, hmm?’ you purr and laugh when his cock twitches in his pants again. “I think it’s only fair I get to look at you too,” you pout as you paw at the hem of his shirt.

“Whatever ya say sweetheart,” he replies, pulling his shirt over his head. He takes a moment to shed his jeans as well and stands before you on the edge of the bed in his underwear as his cock strains against the fabric. He knows it’s a good sign when you gasp and lick your lips. You sit up quickly and drag a nail down his chest tilting your head in amazement.

“I knew it,” you whisper to yourself and Katsuki raises an eyebrow.

“Knew what?”

“That you were sculpted like some freaking country Adonis or something,” you mutter, eyebrows pulling together as you continue tracing his abs.

He snorts at that and his ego grows just as much as his cock at the thought of you fantasizing about him. “Where the fuck do you come up with this shit?’

Your fingers reach the band of his underwear and you tug at them gently, gazing up at him through your lashes again. Katsuki bites his lip and you place a soft kiss where the band of his underwear meets his hips. He groans, thinking of how soft your lips are, how perfect they’d feel around his cock. His cock is pulsing, leaking at the tip through his underwear, practically weeping for your lips to be around it.

You take your time pulling them down his hips and when the flushed mushroomed tip of his cock peeks out from the fabric you gasp and kiss it gently. Katsuki grinds his teeth together and watches the way his pre stains your pretty lips, like a gloss. It isn’t long before he’s stepping out of his underwear and your fingers are wrapped around his girth.

Katsuki throws his head back and lets out a long loud groan. It’s been too fucking long. A few shower jerks could never top the way you lick slowly up his shaft. You stop to leave little red marks that you suck into the delicate skin and he has to really concentrate on not coming all over your face when you lean down to slip one of his heavy balls into your mouth.

“It’s so pretty Katsuki,“ you croon as you tap his mushroomed head against your lips.

Katsuki locks eyes with you. He brings a hulking hand up to cup under your chin. He pulls your bottom lip down before you lean down to take his thumb into your mouth. Man, you’ve gotta be a pro at this and Katsuki counts his lucky stars you’re here doing this with him.

“Thanks, the last girl thought so too,” he teases in a gruff voice and he laughs when you push out your lips and pull back from him.

“Do you not want me to suck your cock? Because this is how you get me to not suck your cock,” you say with an eyebrow raised.

Laughing like some kind of villain mastermind, Katsuki pushes you back on the bed and crawls over you. “See how jokin’ ruins the mood? Payback’s a bitch huh Sweetheart,” he growls, pulling your panties down your legs.

You roll your eyes but lift your hips as he pulls them down and tosses them over his shoulder. Truth is, he doesn’t know if he’d be able to hold back if you put his cock in your mouth and he knows he wants to come while fucking you so he dives between your folds, kissing a trail of sloppy open mouth kisses up your inner thigh.

Your moans are some of the prettiest sounds Katsuki has ever heard and when you pull on his hair and push your cunt further into his face, it almost makes him rabid. You’re warm, dribbling with slick as he peels back your lips and flattens his tongue to lick from your ass up to your clit.

“Oh my god,” you cry out and he chuckles against your pelvic bone, sending another sensation of pleasure up your spine.

You taste heavenly, as he expected and he can only imagine how you’ll split and fold around his cock when he finally takes you. He pushes his tongue into your heat and his eyes roll to the back of his head. Your briny flavor drives him mad, all he wants is more of it on his tongue, more of you. He’s growling as he tongue fucks you and Katsuki thinks for just a moment, this could be his new addiction. You’re pulling his hair and whining, Your legs are tensing up and closing around his head as you climb to your orgasm.

Katsuki makes sure to keep your legs open. Pressing the pads of his coarse fingertips into the plush flesh of your thigh.

“Mmm Katsuki… I- I’’m gonna–” you stammer in a pathetic little voice that he finds ravishing.

“Cum on my tongue. Wanna taste you,” he moans between your thighs. And wouldn't you know it, despite being a little brat at the beginning you do exactly as you're told and cum all over his face. Your thighs shake, your back arches up off the bed, your head is thrown back and a wail of his name fills the room.

Panting, Katsuki kisses up your body again, lingering for only a second to suck and bite your nipples. When he reaches your lips, he licks your bottom lip and smiles at your fucked out expression. Before a snide comment can come out of his mouth, you’re crashing your lips against his, licking his lips and pulling them between your teeth. KAtsuki groans into your mouth when your tongue swirls around him. Lord knows you’re fucking talented with that thing.

You lay your head back, wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you. Your eyes are ablaze and he knows without you saying anything what you want.

“Heh, want me, dontcha?” he asserts and you nod feverishly.

Katsuki takes a deep breath and pumps himself. He's throbbing, aching for you and when he slips his dick between your sopping wet folds, hears the lewd squelching sounds as your lips part around him, it’s almost as if he’s entered another realm. He thumps his cock against your clit, it’s heavy and pulsing, ready to be inside you.

He holds your cheek tenderly before he whispers “Look at me. I wanna see you.” You gaze at him, stare so hard it’s like you’re staring into his soul and he doesn't think he could look away from you if he tried.

Slowly, he enters you, holding his breath as the warmth envelopes him. You’re tighter than he thought and the way you’re stretching around his thick length again makes his ego swell. He savors every movement, the way your chest heaves up and down as he pushes further into your cunt. He hisses when he rubs against a sensitive spot inside you and you clench hard around him.

Finally, he bottoms out and lets out the breath he was holding. He heaves as you dig your fingers into the blankets and watches how you gnaw on your lip. You look as if you’re trying to steady yourself, is he too big for you?

Katsuki is in pure bliss. “F…fuck I…I could stay inside your pussy for days…unf… you’re so tight.”

You growl like an angry cat, “Well I don’t wanna stay like this for days. Move Katsuki, please”

Again that word, something about the way your lips curl around the word, the way it falls from your lips, your desperate little tone. It makes him throb inside of you, caress the ridges of your cunt and makes him even harder.

“Heh ask me again nicely and maybe I’ll do it.” It’s his turn to tease you but when you look at him and pout he almost comes instantly at the sight of your puckered lips and hazy eyes.

You lick your lips and stare up into his eyes. Your face is still glistening with beads of precum and he dons a cocky little smirk, rustles his hips and twitches inside of you. The smirk vanishes the second you take a deep breath and with lidded eyes and a breathy sigh you pant.

“Fuck me, Katsuki. Please.”

As much as he wants to pound into you, to lose control and fuck you so hard you’re creaming and screaming his name, he doesn’t. He moves slowly, rolls his hips out and back into you, sinking deeper than the initial thrust. He savors you, savors every fluttering breath flitting off the tip of your tongue. He pays close attention to the way your back is arched, the way your pert nipples bead in the cool air of the room, the way your hips roll in rhythm with his until you’re moving like a well oiled machine.

He pulls out and back in, grinding against your clit, humming to himself as you clench around him. The feel of you molding around him, the way he moves and carves his cock into your walls; it’s as if you two belong together. The empty spaces between you fit together to form a completed picture. Lewd squelching noises from his cock pumping in and out of you adds to the euphoric moment of hearing you moan loud and long for him.

“Feel good, yeah?” He hisses as he watches the base of his cock disappear into your pussy again.

You nod, your eyes are squeezed shut and holy shit, Katsuki’s thrusts stutter.

You’re beautiful.

Yes, he noticed you were beautiful before, between the glances from the side of his eye or watching you smile while you chatted with Denki and Eiji. But right now in the throes of pleasure, pleasure he’s giving you, it’s a different kind of beauty.

It’s then when he can no longer keep his slow pace. He leans down, pulling your body close to his, lips attaching to your neck as he angles his hips and fucks you. Your nails dig into his back, and he brings a hand up to rest atop your head as he slaps his hips against yours.

Both your bodies are sticky and sweaty, plastered against each other and each time your hips pull apart, the slick and sweat make reluctant webs between you, wanting to stay connected with every movement. You’re wailing now, splitting the skin open on his back as he moves faster and faster chasing the prize at the end of the finish line, your cunt milking all he has to give you.

“O…Oh shit…can’t hold back. Can I…inside?” Katsuki says through labored breaths. You're completely lost in the way his cock drives into your pussy, panting and whining. Again he has to hear you say it so he holds back, knocks his forehead against yours to garner your attention and pleads through his teeth.

“Please?”

“I don’t care! I don’t care, just don’t stop!’ you cry out.

You drop your jaw and he feels it, feels you convulse and clench so tight that he cries out a whimpering moan that sounds as if it’s a mix of pain and wondrous pleasure. Katsuki spills into your cunt, wave after wave of heat filling you as he plugs you and keeps it all inside. You wrap your legs around his ass and push him in further, waves of aftershock moving through you as you both collapse into a mess of sloppy open mouth kisses and drift off to sleep.

It’s fucking mushy as hell to say, but Katsuki believes you belong in his arms. The way your body curves and nestles into the empty pockets between your two bodies is just too perfect for you not to belong here.

You’re asleep, curled up into his side with your cheek resting on his bare chest. Your leg is draped over his body and your hand is right over his heart. With his arm wrapped around your torso, he pulls you closer to him, pressing a very light kiss to your hairline so as not to wake you. Your eyelashes flutter slightly when his lips touch your skin and a sleepy hum escapes your lips. Tracing the contours of your body with his fingers is like art, you’re perfect in every way.

It feels like a dream, everything that’s happened between the two of you and for once it’s ended with a happy ending. You’re his, and although the thought of you possibly leaving terrifies him, right now he feels nothing but absolute complete bliss. Your light snores are music to his ears. You twitch a lot in your sleep, mumble sometimes and Katsuki notes, you’re a clinger and a blanket hog.

As your chest rises and falls slowly he takes the liberty of enjoying you peacefully lost in slumber. He twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. He’s never thought about it, but your hair is–apart from your freakishly expressive and gorgeous eyes–his favorite. The way you sometimes blow the loose tendrils out of your face when you’re hunched over a canvas always made him stop whatever he was doing to stare at you.

“You scare the hell outta me, ya know that Sweetheart?” he mumbles to you in the dark.

You sigh in your sleep and Katsuki holds his breath when he thinks you’ll wake. But when you gently rub your cheek against his chest, shiver and wrap your body more around his legs for warmth, he chuckles.

He’d never tell you that aloud, and he’ll make it a habit of whispering all the things he’s too afraid to say to you while you’re awake to your slumbering form.

“I dunno how Ei thought I could help you but he was right about one thing. Yer changin’ me and it’s fuckin scary,” he mutters. He brushes hair from your forehead and you smile in your sleep, the dimples in your cheeks forming.

In the darkness, you mutter something that sounds like his name and his heart sings. This might be the scariest thing he’s done, but ain’t no way he’s letting you get away.

–

Thanks for reading!

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #marquie writes #stardew valley au #to shape a home

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