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ghosthunterbuck · 1 year

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these tangled threads

(buddie) (2.3k words) (6x11 spec) i've been back for five minutes and immediately decided i needed to write some spec fic so uh, here we are, have some coma!buck :)

Evan picks at a loose thread on his sleeve and stares at the screen in front of him. His latest in a long line of temp jobs has him feeling disquieted. Even more lost than usual, somehow. He wonders if it isn’t because he’s back in California.

It’s been years since he graced the west coast with his presence, and it’s hard to explain why he’s back now.

It certainly isn’t for the work. Digitizing old files might be the worst job he’s ever had, and that includes the summer he spent digging drainage ditches in Florida.

He’s felt restless, though, as of late, an itch beneath his skin that he can’t seem to scratch. Evan pulls at the thread again and a little more of his sleeve unravels. He lets the red string dangle and returns his attention to the file in front of him.

June 22nd, 1985.

Evan sighs quietly and flips the folder open. He arranges the sheets nestled inside by color. Red for fire, white for police, yellow for medical. He pulls the stack of red towards him and begins the process of painstakingly typing in each detail all over again.

Twenty years of files and he hasn’t even made it through the first.

…

He’s just begun working on the 26th when there’s a soft knock on the slightly ajar door to his closet-turned-office. A young woman pokes her head in and immediately wrinkles her nose.

“Wow, I don’t think they could’ve found a darker room to put you in if they tried.”

“It’s uh– it’s… fine?” Evan ventures.

The young woman snorts and pushes the door further open, allowing a small sliver of natural light to stain the carpet.

“I’ll have to ask Eddie to find out for sure, but I’m pretty sure this is a fire code violation,” she says with a wry grin.

Evan smiles, a little cautiously. “You’d know better than me,” he says, tapping the file in front of him, “my knowledge currently ends in 1985.”

The woman chuckles softly. “Anyway, a couple of us are going to grab lunch from the food truck across the street. You want to get out of this cave and come with?”

Evan bites his lip and glances at the stack of files to his left.

“I’m May, by the way,” she says.

“Evan,” he replies, but even as he says it, something about it feels wrong. Like the shape of his own name is unfamiliar to his tongue.

“Come on,” May says, backing out of the room but leaving the door wide open, “you’ll go crazy sitting in here all day.”

Evan stands before he’s consciously made the decision to do so. “You’re right,” he says. “Can’t stay here forever.”

…

The food truck reminds him a little of a postcard Maddie sent him a few years back, a generic one with no location and no return address. It’s funny, the way she’d flipped the script on him when she finally left Doug.

He hasn’t gotten a new one in a few months, but who knows if the long string of forwarding addresses he’s kept is still intact.

There’s a small group of blue and maroon polo-clad individuals huddled beneath a large beach umbrella nearby, and May leads him to them.

“Hey guys! This is the new temp Sue mentioned yesterday, Evan,” she introduces him.

Another wave of discomfort hits him and he frowns a little. He tries to wipe the expression off his face before anyone catches it, but at least one of them notices. His eyes narrow ever so slightly, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Evan,” May continues, “this is Linda, Josh and Eddie.” She points to each of them in turn.

Linda and Josh both offer him a warm greeting, but Eddie simply nods. He’s got dark circles under his eyes and a seemingly permanent furrowed brow, and Evan finds himself picking again at his frayed sleeve under the man’s scrutinizing gaze.

Evan wants to look away, but finds that he can’t.

The moment seems to stretch and pull into something more akin to molasses than time, slowly crystalizing into a shape that feels recognizable. Evan feels the urge to reach out, the inexplicable need to pull Eddie to safety.

Eddie’s phone rings, and the moment shatters.

“Excuse me,” he says, and Evan would swear he’s heard that voice before.

…

By the time Eddie returns, Evan’s halfway through a taco and a story about his time as a ranch hand. The others seem interested enough, but Evan’s boring himself. He knows how the story ends – another place he couldn’t stay, another set of fraying loose ends.

“Have we met before?” Eddie suddenly interrupts.

Evan’s certain they haven’t, certain he would remember if they had, but there’s a nagging sensation in the back of his head that begs him to reconsider. “I’m not sure,” he says after a moment.

“On a call, maybe?” Eddie presses.

Evan shrugs helplessly. “I’ve never called 9-1-1,” he says.

Eddie shakes his head impatiently. “I’m not a dispatcher,” he says. “I used to be a firefighter, though.”

An image flashes through Evan’s mind. It’s Eddie, but he looks younger. Or – maybe younger isn’t right. Less burdened. His posture is straight and he’s wearing turnouts and a warm smile. He has the look of someone who’s settled in his skin, someone who knows exactly who he is and isn’t afraid of that knowledge. He’s so incredibly familiar, but Evan knows they haven’t met. Not in this lifetime, anyway.

He shakes his head again. “I’m sorry, I don’t think so. I haven’t been in LA in years.” Evan feels like he’s lying, even as he knows he’s telling the truth.

Eddie’s lips twist into a small frown, a painful expression Evan is suddenly desperate to wipe away.

“Who was on the phone?” he blurts.

The question works, and Eddie’s frown fades into something closer to a tired smile. “My son,” he says, “Christopher.”

“Whoa, you got a kid?” Evan’s voice seems to echo in his own ears.

Christopher, he’s seven.

And super adorable.

“One that’s growing up way too fast,” Eddie says. His tone is light, but the guilt in his expression says everything he doesn’t.

He doing okay?

Better than me.

Evan turns his attention back to his frayed sleeve, and realizes it isn’t just one string, it’s two, tangled so tightly together he’s sure they’ll never unwind.

…

“Buck,” someone says, and Evan’s head snaps up so fast it hurts.

There’s no one there. He’s alone in his dingy longstay motel room, picking at a plate of microwave lasagna that makes him wish desperately that he’d learned how to cook somewhere along the way.

The room shouldn’t feel silent, not with the buzzing air conditioner and thin walls, but it does and it’s oppressive. Evan flips on the TV and hopes it’ll be enough.

A red headed reporter fills the screen, and something like anxiety twists in his chest. He reaches for the remote but freezes when the image changes.

“...three alarm blaze that displaced multiple families was extinguished early this morning by multiple teams of firefighters. Incident commander Robert Nash commented at the scene.”

“Our team performed admirably tonight. We just wish you were there with us.”

Evan’s brow furrows and he sits back, watching as the camera pans to two paramedics bandaging the arm of a young firefighter with dark skin and a pained expression.

…

In the morning, a postcard from Maddie arrives.

Strangely, the image on the front is of a small, nondescript house with three pairs of shoes set neatly by the front door.

Evan flips the card over to read the inscription.

We miss you. Please come home.

There’s no postage, and no return address.

Evan shivers and grabs his hoodie from the bed. It’s only when he pushes his knuckles through the end of his sleeve that he notices his two strings have turned to nine, all varying degrees of tangled, though none as long or as tightly woven as the first two he’d noticed.

His head aches, and he wishes more than anything he could follow Maddie’s instructions.

Home though… he doesn’t know where that is.

…

Evan finds himself at the pier with no memory of how he got there. It looks familiar but wrong, dotted with rides and attractions he knows are long gone. He looks to his left and finds a young boy staring at him, no older than eight.

“You ever think about what you want to do with your life? What you want to be when you grow up?” the boy asks him.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Evan replies.

The boy ignores him and continues speaking. “I hope you do find something you love,” he says.

“I did,” Evan replies instinctively. He hesitates. “Or I thought…”

The boy looks at him, and suddenly he’s older. “It’s gonna be okay, Buck. The doctors can fix you.”

Evan gasps and stumbles back. There’s a roaring in his ears. He turns just in time to see the wave that swallows him whole.

…

What am I supposed to do if you– you promised, Buck. Chris needs you, and I–

…

Evan sputters and coughs until a river flows from his mouth. He’s standing in a bathroom, in front of a mirror, covered in blood.

The strings from his tattered sleeve wrap around his fingers now, difficult but not impossible to distinguish from the horrible stains on his skin.

The door behind him swings open, and a man walks in.

Immediately, Evan is comforted, though he doesn’t know why.

“Everyone’s out there,” the man says. “Waiting.”

“Why?” Evan asks.

The man frowns.

“I was just the guy standing there when it happened,” Evan continues.

“I need you to open your eyes, kid,” the man says.

Evan blinks– once, twice, and he’s back in his office.

…

The door swings open.

“None of us are better off, you know,” a woman with a shaved head says as she steps into the room. “I know you think it sometimes, but we’re not.”

“I don’t understand,” Evan says.

“Bobby’s a wreck. And Eddie… I’ve never seen him react like that to anything. Reminded me of you, actually.”

“You know me?” Evan asks, feeling more and more desperate. The walls around him feel like they’re closing in.

“Point is, we don’t work without you. So I’m going to need you to wake up and come be a firefighter again, okay?” The woman turns on her heel and leaves.

“Wait!” Evan calls, but it’s too late.

He blinks again and finds himself in the middle of a grocery store, clutching a box of cat laxative to his chest.

…

“Buck?” A man asks, striding towards him. He’s wearing a firefighter’s uniform and has a scar in the middle of his forehead. “Man, what are you doing here,” he says. It doesn’t sound like a question.

“I'm just here to– to do some... some shopping,” Evan replies.

The man shakes his head. “This isn’t right,” he says. “It isn’t supposed to happen like this. You need to come home.”

“I want to,” Evan whispers. “I don’t know how.”

The box falls from his hands, tearing at the red strings that no longer seem to come from his sleeve but from his skin instead.

“Maddie’ll be back soon,” the man says. “She stayed with Jee overnight, but she’s on her way now. I know you’re not going to wake up for me, but maybe you could wake up for her? She needs you.”

The man claps Evan on the shoulder and spins him around, and suddenly he’s face to face with the sister he hasn’t seen in years.

…

“Maddie!” Evan cries, throwing himself towards her. She catches him in a tight hug.

“I miss you, little brother,” she says sadly.

“I’m right here,” Evan says.

“What happened to you,” Maddie whispers.

Evan shakes his head. Tears begin to pool in the corners of his eyes. “I don’t know, Maddie. I’m scared.”

…

He’s flatlining again!

Ma’am, please step back and let us do our jobs.

That’s my brother!

And we’re doing everything we can to save him.

…

Evan gasps awake in his motel room, alone again. Or maybe– he was alone the entire time. Just dreaming. It always feels so real.

The TV is still on, but now it’s the weather. A grim meteorologist addresses him.

“High winds and rain are in the forecast tonight, but the real danger is the lightning. Shelter away from tall trees and poles, and whatever you do, don’t go climbing any ladders.”

Evan shudders. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end. He’s in danger.

The door swings open, and Eddie walks in.

“Buck,” Eddie says, and though it isn’t his first time hearing the name, it’s the first time he understands that it’s his.

Buck stands.

“You have to open your eyes,” Eddie says, “okay? You have to.”

“I’m looking right at you,” Buck says softly.

Eddie shakes his head and the meaning is obvious. You’re looking right at me, but you still don’t see.

“The doctor’s,” Eddie says shakily, “they say you might never wake up. But I don’t believe that, Buck. I know you. I know you better than they do and I know you’re not going to give up on us like that.”

Buck reaches out on instinct and lays his string wrapped hand over Eddie’s heart.

In an instant, it all comes rushing back to him.

“You have to wake up,” Eddie says.

“I’m trying,” Buck gasps.

“You have to, because I can’t do any of this without you, Buck. I don’t want to.”

Buck remembers the moment lightning struck him. He remembers the moment before the pain, remembers feeling, just for a moment, like he might be immortal. He remembers Eddie crying out his name.

Eddie’s hands encircle his, and the red string tangles them together.

“Please, Buck,” Eddie says, squeezing his hand. “Come home.”

With a herculean effort, Buck squeezes back.

#911 #buddie #fic #911fic #911 fic #buddie fic #evan buckley #911 spec #911 spoilers #abbie writes #userceecee

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pazzesco · 8 months

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James Kivetoruk Moses - Inupiat/Inupiak, (1900-1982) - untitled, depicting a woman and a man standing in front of their home.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a bowhunter, his seal prey, and a confronting polar bear .

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a seal hunter casting his hook.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a hunter with his catch working his way across ice flows.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a hunter in his kayak bringing in a seal.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a man coaxing a harnessed reindeer.

"Mr & Mrs Napasuk Big Chief East Cape Siberia", depicting a woman and a man posing in front of their camp.

When strong gusts flipped a small plane landing near Teller, on the Seward Peninsula on August 14, 1953, one 50-year-old Inupiaq Eskimo hunter, trapper, and reindeer herder injuring his leg lost all means of support. “No more work, no more hunting,” he said about the event that caused a career change. “Is only way…drawing pictures.” Recovering, James Kivetoruk Moses resumed a teenage habit now leavened by anecdotes, legends, and knowledge accrued over five decades during which the land had taught and sustained him.

At heart, he remained a herder. And modest. Asked about his pictures’ appeal, he admitted lacking refinement. “Young people try to be artists,” he said. “They come up good artists, very good drawing because they were school. But no experience. Don’t know nothing [about] living.”

Untitled, depicting a shaman treating a sick man

In 1975, weakened by strokes and surgeries, Moses, with his wife, Bessie, resided in Nome, a non-Native commercial hub since Yankee-whaler days. Their cabin, abutting the Golden Goose saloon, sat a stone’s throw from black, foam-flecked Bering Strait beaches. Bessie, first acting as his bookkeeper, peddled a briefcase of Moses’ nostalgia at local hotels. She kept a percentage of the profits for herself, she once joked. For an extra five dollars she provided a handwritten summary of the subjects, of routines, beliefs, and a past beyond her clienteles’ ken.

Untitled, pen and ink wash on card stock

Accompanying this drawing is one of those five dollar handwritten summaries by the artist's wife Bessie, dated August 12, 1975:

"This pretty girl is from N. East Siberia. Her uncle and her folks were well to do family and they came across to our mainland from there every spring after spring to trade more than one skin or whole lot of them come same time all the way to Katzebue. They brought reindeer skins black and spotted skins, wolverines and wolfs skins to trade with all kinds of furs. This girl came with her mother because the father had to take care of their business. She was helpful and good to the people and everybody learn to love her every place. They want to help them on account of her wanting to marry. But since they were traveling the mother + father wouldn't leave her behind being the only girl. Hope the true happening is a good story. So long + good-by By Bessie Moses"

Postcard - James Kivetoruk Moses - "Eskimo Men & Woman" - Anchorage Museum

#James Kivetoruk Moses #art #artists #native american art #Inupiat #kivetoruk moses #nome alaska #alaska #bessie moses #eskimo life

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captainmalewriter · 1 year

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The Body Sculptor

Commission Story

"And now, ladies and gentlemen of the crowd...” the MC paused as he spoke over the mic at the International Body Sculptors Competition. The air in the room was electrified from the audience’s anticipation. Then, after teasing them long enough, the MC continued. “Let’s give a warm welcome to our next contestant Kim Jae Eon from Korea!!”

With that, Jae walked out onto the stage and was immediately greeted with loud cheers from the crowd. The young Korean man was dressed in nothing but a white pair of shorts and a generous amount of body oil. Although Jae was just a rookie in the bodybuilding scene, it was clear that he had the makings of a champion with the reception he had received in the minor leagues.

Jae stood at center stage with muscles fully flexed as the audience took in the glorious sight of his glistening body. Countless men and women were shouting their support for the rising Korean bodybuilder. Some even wolf whistled as Jae showed off his physique.

Although Jae was able to keep a straight face as he competed, he couldn't help but smirk on the inside. All his hard work and commitment had paid off. With a jacked body combined with a handsomely cute face like his, Jae had his first bodybuilding competition in the bag. With that thought boosting his ego, Jae struck a pose to show off his melon sized biceps. The audience's cheers only grew louder as the judges gave Jae perfect scores across the board.

While Jae Eon and the rest of the body builders were competing live in London, not everyone interested in spectating had the financial means to be there in-person. There were two people in particular who were very interested in the body sculptors competition.

One of those two people did not exist beyond official government records. No occupation. No known family. No social life of any kind. They preferred to live a life of solitude with minimal interaction with the outside world. Partially because they greatly valued their peace of mind, and partially because living under the radar made their line of work much easier to manage. This person was best known by their online alias The Body Sculptor. The title was self explanatory; they were self employed as a bodysuit maker. The price on their custom made bodysuits usually ran somewhere in the thousands, but the extremely life-like quality of the suits made every penny worth it.

But why would The Body Sculptor be watching the international bodybuilding competition? Simple. The Body Sculptor's latest client Val had requested a custom bodysuit of one Korean model Kim Jae Eon. Val was an ordinary guy with an ordinary life. Although Val had many man crushes, the muscular and cute Jae Eon never failed to catch his attention. After stumbling upon The Body Sculptor's hidden website, Val had been going back and forth on whether or not to get a bodysuit for well over half a year now. He had the financial means to meet the steep price, but he was always unsure and always ended up backing out last minute. In the end, Val made his decision and went all in. Now all he had to do was wait until his custom bodysuit came in the mail. Luckily, he had Jae's competition performance to keep him satisfied until it came. Seeing the buff model flex his muscles reassured Val that he had made the right choice.

The days went by quickly. Then, one day, Val woke up to a package delivered notification. He smiled, and hurried to pick up his mail. While he had a few envelopes waiting for him, he ignored them all once he saw the hefty box with his name on it. Val picked it up and hurried back inside.

Val wasted no time in getting out a sharp knife to open the box. He tore it open like an excited child on Christmas. Inside the package was a postcard that said ‘thank you for ordering’ on it. Val grinned as he picked it up and tossed it to the side. Underneath the postcard was a black pull string bag. Val proceeded to pull it out. The bag was surprisingly heavy, and Val could feel his fingers sink into it as he used his strength to pull it out of the box.

He then opened the strings and pulled out a life size bodysuit of Kim Jae Eon. Val propped up the bodysuit against the wall. Thankfully, the little air the suit had inside helped keep it standing. Val took a step back to admire the craftsmanship. He was impressed (as well as somewhat horrified) at just how realistic the bodysuit looked to the original. All the facial features and bodily details such as the tattoos were exactly as Val remembered them. If it weren’t for the lack of breathing, he would’ve believed it was the real Jae standing right in front of him!

A grin spread across Val’s face as he clapped his hands together and smacked his lips in anticipation. He used his fingers to trace along the sharp jawline of the bodysuit but quickly withdrew his hand when he felt the rubbery material. Val stood back with a look of contempt on his face.

“Man, seriously? $2000 for a rubber suit?”

Val let out a sigh as he stared at the replica of Jae Eon. He knew it’d be a mistake to expect actual synthetic skin on a bodysuit, but he also expected something better than just plain old rubber. He bent down to take a closer look at the bodysuit. No matter how much he scrutinized it, it looked just like Jae Eon no matter how much he stared it. But no attention to detail could change the disappointment Val felt for the building materials. He would have to send it back.

Val grabbed onto the rubber bodysuit, ready to repackage it. But as he held the replica in his hands, an idea had struck him.

“Well...” he thought out loud to himself. “I already bought it, and it’s already here... I might as well try it on at least once.”

After rationalizing his thoughts, Val proceeded to try on the bodysuit. He laid it out on the floor. He squeezed out any air it had inside. Val couldn’t help but feel like he was handling a giant pool ring, but he ignored the feeling and pressed on. Then, using his hands to stretch out the mouth, Val started to stick his feet inside. The rubbery material was cool to the touch, and although the bodysuit was tailored to his exact measurements, it slid on like a glove.

Val continued pushing the rest of his body into the bodysuit. It was a slow but steady process as the bodysuit accepted Val in its embrace. His legs filled in the bodysuit’s legs fully. The bodysuit's dick fit over his like a custom made sleeve. The rest of bodysuit filled in nicely too; torso to torso, arms to arms, and finally, face to face. Val pulled on the bodysuit head like it was a mask, and the entire thing snapped into place with a latex like sound. It was a snug fit, but Val could feel himself moving inside the bodysuit. But as he adjusted to his new body, the bodysuit sprung to life as it started radiating a human’s warmth. Then, Val’s vision shifted from seeing through the eye holes of a mask to literally seeing with Jae’s eyes. He had become one with the bodysuit, taking on Jae’s identity for himself.

“No way... it worked!!” Val shouted out in his new voice. It caught him off guard at first to hear Jae’s accented voice instead of his own, but he quickly accepted it. It was what he wanted after all.

He ran to his bathroom for the mirror. Surely enough, his eyes weren’t playing a cruel trick on him. The mirror showed Jae Eon staring back at him instead of his own complexion. Val smirked with Jae’s face, and it hit him that he was actually living out his body swap fantasy. All that was left was to admire the goods, but this time with a more personal perspective.

“Oh man... Check out these muscles!”

Val flexed his right arm while using his left to feel his new, hard muscles. He was in awe the entire time he fully inspected his body. With him inside, the rubbery feel of the bodysuit had transformed into actual skin. He took a whiff of the new him and was pleasantly surprised to smell the scent of a freshly cleaned man oozing with testosterone.

Val could feel the peach fuzz hair and bulging veins as he ran his fingers up his arms and down his torso. He cupped his new pecs and gave them a good rubbing down. He could the weight of the beefy pectorals on his chest as he bounced them with ease. Every muscle in his new body was well defined and toned to the max. Val already enjoyed the view from the outside, but with the bodysuit on, his pleasure only doubled. That cute face and muscular body were all his.

Val abruptly stopped his self worship session when that last thought crossed his mind. He had no problem keeping up the maintenance his new body would demand of him, but he began to question just how real the bodysuit was. Fortunately, he knew exactly how to test it.

Val went straight to his living room and kneeled in front of a storage chest he kept there. He opened it and pulled out a few dumbbells he kept in there. Val had bought them to do some light at home workouts, but he wanted to test his new body’s strength to see if it was just for show or not. Val noticed the difference right away. With his new muscular body, picking up the weights was as easy as picking up paper! But despite the successful experiment, Val wasn’t satisfied just yet.

With the heaviest weights in hand, Val proceeded to do the hardest work outs he knew how to do. These were the exercises he saved for when he was feeling particularly daring. But what was a challenge for his usual body was nothing but an ordinary workout for his new body. Val worked up a sweat and even built up a pump inside his new body, making the muscles bulge out even more than before. Only after the workout was Val fully content with his latest big purchase.

And so, the days continued to go by. Val continued to live his everyday life while keeping the Jae Eon bodysuit ready to play whenever he was in the mood. At first, Val kept the bodysuit as a special piece only to be used for special occasions. But then Val started using the bodysuit more regularly- to work, to eat, to socialize, to exercise, he even went to sleep with it on! He donned the bodysuit more and more until he spent entire days as his new identity Park Seo Joon.

"우와! 이 허벅지 근육 좀 보세요! 나는 거대하다!!" (Wow! Just look at these thigh muscles! I'm huge!!)

Val showered inside the bodysuit too. The flowing, warm water ran through his hair and onto his broad shoulders. All of his limbs were beefy slabs of muscle, and Val enjoyed slathering himself thoroughly with soap as he washed up.

The light dusting of black pubic hair coupled with a thick, veiny cock with a bright pink dick head was definitely one of his favorite parts of his new body. It would always harden whenever he showered, and occasionally he would indulge it by stroking one out. He could hardly believe just how amazing it felt to jerk off in the bodysuit. At first, jerking off in the bodysuit felt like jerking off but with a tight dick sleeve wrapped around his member. But soon enough, Val couldn’t even tell the difference between his own cock and the bodysuit’s. Jerking off was just like the real thing, if not better!

Once he was done showering, Val continued about his day. But as he sat down to watch his favorite TV show, he quickly became bothered by the fact that it was in English. As the time went by with the bodysuit on, his grasp of the English language faded away until he eventually got fed up and set everything to Korean. It was the language he was most fluent in after all.

Val fixed the language settings on his TV and sat back down on his leather couch. While watching, his phone rang. He hit the pause button and picked it up.

"안녕하세요? 말하는 박서준." (Hello? Park Seo-joon speaking.)

Seo Joon nodded as he listened closely to what the caller had to say. Then his eyes lit up. Apparently, his photos had been trending in South Korea's pop culture scene. Enough so that a social media agent from South Korea had reached out to sign him on as a new social media star!

He looked out the window as he thought about the enticing offer, though quite frankly, he already had his answer. He agreed to the offer and moved to South Korea under his new identity, leaving behind his old one Val. There, Seo Joon lived a comfortable life being adored by people who loved his handsome, muscular, attractive body just as much as he did.

Thank you for supporting!!

#male body swap #male body switch #male bodysuit #bodysuit tf #muscular #race change #permanent change #commission story #commission

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whatevergreen · 4 months

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“You Can Have Fun Too” poster, created by Mick Hicks for SFAF, 1984

"In 1984, Rick Crane, director of the (San Francisco AIDS Foundation) at the time, hired famed local photographer Mick Hicks to photograph two men for a safe-sex poster to be put in the city’s gay bars, baths, and other locations. Hicks worked for virtually all the LGBTQ newspapers in the Bay Area and had spent a year and a half photographing people with AIDS, chronicling their struggle with the disease. He quickly accepted the commission.

At the same time, a young Black man named Robert Gray, a native San Franciscan raised in the Bayview Hunter’s Point area of the city, and a proud sixth-generation descendant of the Georgetown 272 (a group of 272 African slaves who were sold, in 1838 by the Jesuit priests who ran George University to keep the school afloat), was rather well known in the Castro and Tenderloin areas. “I had started meeting and dating guys in my junior year in high school,” he told me. “I went to high school four or five blocks from the Castro. I would find my way up through the bar scene during that time, sneaking into gay bars and discos.” Of course, he realized that AIDS was rampant through the city.

One day, as 24-year-old Robert wandered down Castro Street, a man approached him and asked if he would pose for a photo for a safe-sex poster for San Francisco AIDS Foundation. “The gentleman advised me that a young photographer named Mick Hicks was looking for two subjects, one Black male and one white male, for the poster. Having seen so many of my personal friends succumb to this deadly virus, I felt it was something I needed to do to help stop the spread of this horrific disease. I asked myself, ‘Why not?’ With AIDS affecting so many of my gay brothers and sisters, I felt it was my responsibility to do something to contribute to AIDS awareness and prevention. I needed to take action, whatever I could do to be a voice of action and help my community.” He agreed on the spot to do the poster.

“You Can Have Fun (and be safe too)” read the final poster. The image that Hicks created featured Robert, shot from the back, embracing a white model (Hicks’ partner Nick Cuccia), his white arm and bubble-butt standing out prominently against Robert’s skin. Even the Chronicle columnist Herb Caen took notice of the photo. The sex-positive message of the poster advocated “mutual masturbation,” “erotic massage,” “imagination and fantasies,” and “limiting social drugs.” The poster portrayed and promoted gay sex as normal, expected behavior, and emphasized the pleasure that could be had while still protecting oneself against transmission of the virus. The poster caused a huge sensation and started appearing in gay bars, discos, and bathhouses from San Francisco to New York. Mr. Gray told me, “As the young kids would say today, ‘it went viral,’ no pun intended!”

(Castro, San Francisco postcard, 1984)

Regrettably, the poster also launched a two-pronged backlash, one prong based in religious prudery, the other in racism.

By asserting that gay sex could be both fun and safe, the poster was the first to portray gay sex as normal, healthy, and fun. Even before AIDS, gay sex had been viewed as aberrant, “unnatural.” As an offshoot of that prejudice, AIDS was thought by many as a visitation of the wrath of God on immoral men who were violating God’s law. How many times did we hear in the early 1980s, “At least AIDS is killing all the right people”? The poster’s sex-positive message was condemned as an affront to decency and family values.

Even more lamentably, the poster inadvertently shone a light on the racial animus within San Francisco’s gay community. As Rick Crane told the Bay Area Reporter in 2014, “Gays as a group were considered second-class citizens and, ironically, gays themselves were treating gay blacks the same way — as second-class citizens.” Although racial tensions had eased somewhat from the flashpoints of the ‘60s and ‘70s, there was still a clear racial divide in the bars in the Castro. The Pendulum was the Castro’s only gay bar where black men and white men went comfortably to meet; the other Castro bars catered primarily to whites. The Trap, located in the Tenderloin district, also catered to interracial couples. Thus, some of the bars and other establishments refused to display the poster, deeming it “unacceptable.” Regarding the response to the poster, Gray said, “I would go into bars, and I would hear the chatter amongst people about the poster. I heard some really positive things, but also some really negative, racially motivated things.

(Below: "Thyrell And Chris Outside The Pendulum Bar SF", 1986 by Jim James aka Photojimsf)

“At the time that I did the poster,” he continued, “I had no idea that it would be so controversial. Honestly, had I known this upfront, I might not have done it. But looking back on it now, I would do it again because it was the right thing to do.” But still, he laments, “Who would have thought that a photo would open my eyes to the racism within the gay community? We are so much more alike as a people than different. One would think we could get along better and come together for a cause greater than us individually. Being a proud Black gay man, I must fight harder than most for myself and for those who come after me.”

These days, Robert Gray is still that proud Black gay man who changed the face of safe-sex advocacy. Sixty-two years old now, nearly forty years since he posed for the SFAF poster, he is semi-retired and lives in Vallejo, California. He is now a widower, having lost his partner of 42 years (his husband since 2013). He remains quite proud of the poster to this day, even if that pride is somewhat tempered by what he considers a lack of recognition for his work. “I thought over time I would see the poster in the gay pride parades or that I would be given some special honor from major players in the movement, like GLAAD. There is still a lot of racism in the gay community.”

Adapted from a February 18, 2022 article by Hank Trout:

https://www.sfaf.org/collections/status/why-did-a-safe-sex-poster-spark-controversy-in-1984/

#lgbtq #lgbt+#race #blm #san francisco #aids #hiv

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cheynovak · 4 months

Text

Family business: Part 1

Billy Butcher & Sarah Butcher x Soldier boy

Warnings: Age difference, cursing, violence, smut, 16+, ... it's the boys... what not

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

Words: 5900

Sarah is Billy Butcher’s daughter from a previous relationship. He did not raise her, on the contrary, when he found out that her mother was pregnant, he fled to the army. Butcher felt too young to care for a child, afraid to follow in his father's footsteps. But Sarah's mother wanted to keep the child. In the first 5 years he sended her postcards on her birthday with a little bit of money in it. But when he never got a responce he stopped. Years later Billy’s and Sarah’s paths cross when they search for the weapon that killed Soldier boy only to find the supe himself, who seems to have an special interest in Sarah.

*Might not follows the original “the boys” timeline*

----

Sarah woke up in a shitty New York apartment, she looked outside the dirty window, it was a nice sunny day but all she could think of was how horrible she felt doing this job. The CIA needed some unknown people for some shitty job when they couldn’t keep get their hands dirty. And that was one thing she had no trouble with.

She took a quick shower before throwing on some old rock band shirt with a grey skinny jeans and black doc martens. Before she got out the door, she took her old black leather jacket and keys. Once outside she took the metro to the CIA headquarters where she had to meet with Susan Raynor. Sarah walked around in the big city thinking how much she hated this place, she could wait to get back overseas.

Sarah presented herself to Suzan, “Mrs Raynor? I’m Sarah, Sarah Turner, my boss sends me to... take care of an inconvenience for you.” she said shaking her hand. “Ah yes miss Turner. Take a seat. Where waiting for my other associate before I can inform you about your task.” She said with a disapproved look at her. “You might like the man, British too.” Sarah looked with smiled like she had a toothache. “Yeah well, all Brits get along ay.”

“Sorry kept you waiting luv, traffic.” Sarah heard a familiar accent behind her. She looked up, looking at the man, she could have sworn she recognised him. “Who’s this?” He asked Suzan without looking at Sarah. “Butcher meet Turner, Turner, Butcher. Your new partner.” - “Since when do you give me partners and tasks Suzan?” - “Since we need you to go to Russia and find out what killed soldier boy, what killed him can kill Homelander, but I don’t trust you, so I arranged backup.” - “I don’t need a fucking babysitter, no offence luv.” He said to her swiftly. “Take it or leave it.” Suzan told him.

Suzan Raynor explained all the resources Sarah had, and talked about their mission, the boys could be included, but only Sarah could call in for progress with her directly. Once dismissed Sarah and Billy stepped out the room. “So, Butcher...” Sarah asked “Billy Butcher?” He turned around. ”You know me sweetheart?” - Sarah’s heart dropped “By reputation” she felt sick to her stomach, but the fact that he didn’t recognise her last name made it easier on her.

Sarah met the boys, MM, Frenchy and Hughie seemed nice fellas. But she couldn’t help to feel troubled, they planned the trip to Russia, she noticed both MM and Frenchie were trained, Hughie on the other hand seemed like a beat-up puppy. Butcher started to go over the plan one last time. “We enter here...” Sarah couldn't help but to roll her eyes at him. “I’m sorry luv is there anything you want to say.” - “Yes, that is a fuck bad idea. I bet ya that these doors will be guarded by at least a dozen soldiers, unless you can hocus-pocus your arse through them, we need a new route.” - “Well excuse me for my language darlin but, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think. I’ve been doing this since you were in bloody diapers.” Yeah, diapers you never had to touch you fuck. Sarah though.

She kept her mouth closed and loaded in her duffel bag feeling pissed, she really wanted to put Butcher in his place, but she knew it would compromise the mission. She heard Frenchy talk to Hughie. “She gives off, Lara Croft vibes, no? Spicy lady.” he joked. “Yeah, well two English alfa’s, I hope it will work out.” the skinny kid answered. Sarah saw Butcher put away some green liquids put away. “What is that?” She asked him.

“None of ya business sweety.” he answered. “None of my business...” she repeated fierce. “If I need to go out there in Russia risking my ass, I need to know what shit you're taking.” Walking over to Butchers bag taking out everything until she found the temp V. “What is this shit?” - “Oi, give that back you little cunt.” - “No fucking way asshole, tell me what is this shit you’re taking.” - “Give it back or I’ll take something from you.” - “You sound like a fucking child Butcher.”

Butcher grabbed your bag throwing it all out on the floor, he saw a picture falling out. ”What’s this?” He said while picking it up. Sarah saw his face getting pale as he looked at your mother in the photo. It was an old picture, taken when you were 7 maybe 8 years old, on a vacation in France, Sarah sitting next to her mother on a bench at the sea. He looked back at you locking eyes still holding the picture in his hands. Sarah walked over snapping it out of his hands. “That is my dead mother you fuck. If you ever touch this again, I'll kill ya, understood.” Billy nodded slowly.

He didn’t ask, she didn’t spoke. They both got back to preparing their bags. But Sarah could feel his eyes lingering on her. On the flight to Russia, they sat apart. Sarah chose the seat next to Frenchie and MM. Sarah deliberately chose to bring headphones, so she didn’t have to interact to much with the boys. “What happened?” Hughie asked Butcher referring to the incident back home. “I knew her mother, we used to date back in the days. I had no idea she passed away.”

Once landed Billy planned to rest at the motel first before digging around the foreign lab.

Butcher handed out the keys, “not you, not yet, we need to talk.” He said to Sarah. They walked to his room. “What?” she asked like a spoiled teenager who was about to get a preach. “Your mother, when... how did she die?” - “Oh no, don’t pretend like you care.” She snapped at him. Billy frowned “If you really cared about her, if you really cared about us, you would have never left.” She yelled at him. “So do us all a fucking favour and pretend you don’t know her, cause that is what I will do when this shit show is fucking over. Pretend I never met you.”

Sarah walked out the door, Billy followed her. “Sarah... SARAH stop.” She stopped but didn’t face him. She could feel the tears in her eyes burn, not knowing why this hurt her so much, she never knew him. “Sarah, I wasn’t ready to be a father, for fuck sake I was 19 years old. Your mom insisted on keeping it.” - “IT?! Keeping IT?! She burst not saying anything anymore before taking another breath “I don’t need to know your sob story Butcher.” she turned around. “You didn’t want a child, I don’t want you in my life, let just focus on the job and get it done, ok.” Sarah took her key and went to bed.

The next morning everyone gathered at the parking lot looking terrified. ”What happened?” Frenchie asked arriving last. “Raynor, got executed last night. Her brains blown up, Annie just texted me.” Hughie said. “That means someone may know were here.” Butcher added. “No time to waste then.” Sarah said walking to the rented car.

Sarah woke up in the red lighted room at the lab. “What happened? WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!” she yelled at Hughie standing in front of her, covering her eyes. “I eh, pushed you aside during the attack, you bumped your head.” Billy kneeled in front of you. “Are you ok, luv?” - “Yeah yeah, I'm fine.” you said while lifting yourself up, grabbing for is arm as you felt a little dizzy. “Still not a reason to be naked though!” she pointed at Hugh, looking around. “What’s this?”

Sarah opened an old container, smoke came out, Billy pulled her back, behind him, once they saw a man walking out. She looked in him up and down, turning to Hughie whispering. ”He has a reason to be naked.”

“Soldier boy.” Butcher mumbled, making Sarah look back at the man. At first, she thought he was looking at Butcher but when the smoke cleared, she saw his green eyes were locked on her. Her breath and heart stopped. “No way, he’s alive?” she looked at Billy who looked shocked at her.

After Soldier boy blasted his way out of there, you all hurried back to the states, trying to take care of Kimiko.

“Well, there is no reason for me to stay here.” Sarah announced. Billy looked shocked, “The fuck you mean. There is a fucking ancient supe out there and you are leaving? - “What do you want me to do? Buy a fucking flute and whistle until he comes to us like a dog?” - “He blew up midtown, we need to do something.” Hughie begged. “Guys even if I wanted, I have a fucking concussion, my shoulder is hurt and there is no fucking way I’m taking that shit you injected yourself with.”

“Then wait here.” Billy said, “Heal and if you still decide on leaving, I’ll buy you a ticket.” Sarah though about it for a second, healing before the long travel wasn’t a bad idea. “Fine.”

Not long after they agreed to that Billy texted her, “meet me at this address ASAP.”

Sarah walked up to an old cheap motel. She knocked on the door, Hughie answered, letting her in. She immediately saw Soldier boy snoring a line of cocaine before he looked her up and down. She never felt nervous when a man checked her out, hell she even used her body every now and then to get what she needed or wanted, but the way he looked at her made her head spin and her heart race.

Billy walked over to you, tilting your head back looking in your eyes. “How do you feel?” Sarah slapped his hand away. ”Stop fathering me.” Hughie and Ben exchanged a look. She nodded to Soldier Boy, “You found him.” - “Yeah, well Hughie and I need to take care of somethings, we need you to stay with him.” Billy smiled at her. “Really? Babysitting?” she answered. “Babysitting, taking care of the elders, whatever you want to call it.” He said pushing Hughie out the door.

Sarah felt the awkward silence, “Well, coffee?” she asked walking to the small kitchen not waiting for his response. “You were there in Russia, weren’t you?” He asked following her. “Eh yeah” - “You got me out.” She turned to him leaning on the counter. “It was a team effort.” he nodded still looking in her eyes like he was searching for something.

As time got by, Ben seemed to like Sarah better than the rest of the boys. And Sarah decided to stay for a while. There was this unspoken bond between her and Ben, both outsiders taking care of their past, in different ways but still. At this point Billy only thrusted Hughie to tell the truth about Sarah. But Ben noticed the similarities pretty early on.

Ben started the conversation after seeing Sarah walking to the bathroom, Billy was sitting next to him watching tv. "You know, I wanted some rugrats of my own... couple of little boys." Billy looked at him, “With Countess. But not everything always goes the way we want right?” Billy didn’t answer. “Does she know?” - “Yeah.” - “You didn’t raise her?” - “No.” - And that’s why the tension is so bad between you two?” - “She thinks I left her mother because I didn't love her, I loved her I didn’t want to be a father, she wanted the child, what choice did I have.”

“You could have grown a pair of balls and taken care of your child and woman.” He said bluntly taking a smoke, walking towards the window, he saw Sarah standing in the door, slightly smiling at him. He knew she heard him, even though it wasn’t his intention. “Billy, Frenchie just texted, he needs you at the lab.” He got up looked over at you, nodded before leaving with a sigh.

“Thank you.” Sarah said walking closer to Ben. “For what?” He said smiling. “Putting him in his place.” - ”I just don’t think he sees you for what you are.” - “And that is?” Sarah asked still walking closer, her eyes met his. “A tall, beautiful young woman, gorgeous big dark eyes, who is stubborn, fierce, smart, a firecracker.”

“And you can tell all that from what, a week knowing me?” She looked up at Ben. Even though she was 5ft11, he stood taller than her looking down in her eyes. “I’ve known that since I set a foot out of that container.” Ben’s hand moved to the back of her black hair and the back of her neck. He looked at her lips before slowly closing the space between them.

His movement stopped abrupt when the door opened, he looked over her shoulder. Hughie walked in. “Good you’re here.” Sarah said still standing close to Ben. “I’m going training, I found a private room I could rent at the gym.” She left Ben standing there. Fucking cock blocker, he thought looking mad at Hughie. “Oh, besides I found ourselves a house instead of this motel room.” She said turning back in the door. “I’m tired of sleeping on a couch.”

Sarah, Ben, Frenchie and Kimiko moved in almost permanently, although Billy dropped by every day to check on Ben, but secretly he wanted to get to know Sarah. Frenchie seemed to be the only one to notice the tension between Ben and Sarah. He stood a little to close, was way more friendly with her than with the others. Accidently bumped into her in the kitchen. She would lay her hand on his shoulder when walking past him at the table, bending over to pick things of the floor, not caring he’d look at her cleavage or ass.

Sarah was a very structured woman, even in the middle of this shit show she turned the basement into a small training room. She seemed to be the only one using it, not understanding how all of them stayed in shape without training. One day Hughie asked her to show her some tricks. “I’ve seen you fight in Russia, even without temp V you really know how to handle yourself.” She looked shocked. “Eh yeah, sure I’m heading down now.” Ben couldn’t help but to laugh, “I want to see this.” As he followed them.

Even though Hughie did his best she and Ben could see martial arts aren’t his thing. “Come on kid, tired already?” Ben joked leaning on the railing of stairs looking over them. “Don’t listen to him.” Sarah spoke, “Not all of us are granted with a supe boost. Besides, the right technic will take down anyone.” Hughie smiled soft but knew he never would be cut out for that. “Is that so?” Ben huffed “Fine, do it.” - “What?” Sarah looked at the supe walking down. “Take me down, I’ll even make it interesting. If you can get me on my knees, I'll take you on a date.” Sarah laughed “Oh Ben, how did you know that was my dream.” Answering over dramatic sarcastic. “What if I can’t.” - “You get on your knees for me... in private.” He said moving his thumb over her lip.

“Sarah don’t.” Hughie said afraid he would take advantage of her. “Agreed, just to wipe that smirk of your face.” she said taking a step closer. She had miss calculated him physically, all though she knew he was build firm, she had no idea that her hits and kicks would be brushed off so easily. Ben never hit her back, all he did was block and push her aside. Sarah was out of breath. “Giving up yet?” Ben teased not a drop of sweat on his face. “Never!” She yelled when kicking his chest.

“Oi! What the fuck is going on.” Butcher yelled running down the wooden stairs with Frenchie. “Sarah and Ben are... training.” Hughie answered. “Ough.” Sarah let out a grunt falling on her knees when Ben tackled her. “Oh princess, sitting on your knees already? Thought that was the deal, after the fight.”

Butcher looked at Hughie “Deal? What deal Hughie?” - “Sarah made a deal that if she doesn’t get Soldier Boy on his knees she had to... get... on eh, hers for him.” - “WHAT?! Hey fucking cunt!” Butcher yelled running down the stairs. “The fuck are you planning mate?” Ben looked over Sarah’s shoulder at him unbothered.

Without hesitation Sarah got up and kicked Ben in his face now that he was distracted. Making him step backwards, losing his balance, falling on one knee. “Mon dieux, a little Jean Claude Vandamme in the house eh!” Frencie laughed hitting Hughie’s shoulder. Ben looked up at her, entirely surprised. Sarah stood there, towering over him, with a wide grin holding out her hand. Ben took her hand pulling him off his knee. “A deal is a deal.” Ben said standing to close to her. “Don’t worry, just the look on your face, that was all I needed.” Sarah said not backing down, almost chest against chest.

“No, no, NO! Get back, you get away from her!” Butcher pulled on Sarah’s shoulder demanding her to step back looking at him. “Oh, don’t act like you fucking care.” She said walking away. Butcher looked at Ben “Stubborn, like her father.” he said patting Butcher's shoulder before following Sarah up the stairs. “Father?” Frenchie asked. Billy’s face said enough, “Sarah is mademoiselle Charcutier? No! That is not possible.” - “It is.” Was all Butcher replied.

Later that night, Kimiko wanted to watch singing in the rain. To everyone’s surprise, Ben didn’t complain. All four watched the movie. Until Sarah heard her phone ring in the kitchen. She got up to see who the caller was. It was her boss back in the UK. He had been calling to see if she was still alive and or working the case. She didn’t noticed Ben got up until she felt the warmth of his body behind her.

“How long?” He asked placing his hands on her hips. She felt the heat rising in her body. “How long what?” She asked. “How long are you going to keep teasing me woman.” She felt his lips brush over her shoulder.

Frenchie looked over at the kitchen seeing Ben covering Sarah’s body. But she didn’t seem to mind it as he watched her head fall back against his shoulder, her hand moving back, fingers tugging Soldier Boys hair.

“Am I teasing you? I had no idea.” She flirted. “Tell me Ben, if you feel like I tease you too much, why didn’t you ever make move.” - “Your fucking friends are cock blockers.” he growls, while he softly bit the flesh in your neck with his teeth. His hands moved up to her breast, kneading them over her shirt. “I don’t know how long I can wait before I rip your clothes off and take you right in front of everyone.” Sarah turned around facing Ben. “Is that a promise?”

Ben looked shocked at her comeback, but his surprise turned into lust really quick. Lifting her on the kitchen table, kissing her like a hungry man.

Sarah looked over his shoulder, Kimiko and Frenchy were still focussed on the tv. Ben’s lips were on her neck again. She pushed him back, he looked confused. Sarah slipped past Ben walking back to the couch. She saw Frenchie looking up at her, she answered him with a wink before sitting down.

Later that night she heard a soft knock, Sarah expected Ben, knowing him, he didn’t want to give up just yet. But to her surprise she saw Kimiko on the other end. “Hi.” She let her in.

Kimiko heard what happened and wanted to know more about her family and Butcher. So, she told her everything, how she was raised by her single mom, that she lost her at 15 due to cancer. After wandering around for months a group of private contracters had found her and trained her. She owns them everything.

The man who took her is was now the boss, Sarah even told her that she was ditching his calls because for some reason she wanted to get to know Butcher. God forbit she would ever say that to him. “Soldier boy?” she typed. ”What about him?” - “You like him?” -”Yeah, well we get along, I guess where friends of some sort.” - “ He looks at you like he wants to be more than friends.” - “Oh no, he is like that with ever woman.” Sarah answered feeling her cheeks blush. -” Not with Annie or me. Frenchie says so too! He saw you two in the kitchen...” - “I don’t know. He... does something to me, I feel like I can’t thrust myself around him.” she confessed.

Kimiko enjoyed the girl talk she had with Sarah, and so did she. “Talk soon?” Sarah asked while letting Kimiko out the door, she smiled and nodded quick. Sarah looked at the clock 2am. Damn, time to hit the sack. She thought changing into her pyjama, well actually a tank top and panties.

Sarah heard a knock “Forget something Kimi?”She asked opening the door.

Ben looked down at her, “Hi.” was all he said. “Ben... What are you...” He didn’t let her finish. “ I heard you talk to...” he pointed his thumb behind at him, trying to remember her name. But when he looked down at her, he could see she wasn’t wearing much. Making him forget all he wanted to say. “Yes?” Sarah asked trying to bring him back, but instead he walked in. “Fuck this.” He crashed his lips on to hers, pulling her body to his with one hand under her shirt and the other covering her ass.

Sarah felt like she had to fight this, but the more she felt his lips on her the more she felt addicted. Uncontuesly she moved her hands over his chest, over his shoulders, pulling him closer to her body. Ben found the back of her legs lifting her up, carrying her to her bed, laying her down undernead him. He looked at her for a second.”Fuck you’re beautiful, can’t believe that cavemen is your father.” - “Can we please not talk about him now?” She kissed and bit his neck.

Ben’s hands moved under her shirt, lifting it over her head. Fingers teasing her nipples while his mouth was sucking and kissing the flesh of her breasts. She couldn’t help but to moan at his touch. Ben felt her hand moving to his head, pushing him down to her panties. He grinned “So bossy” while kissing her hip. “You like it.” she teased back.”I saw it in your eyes when I kicked your ass.” Ben didn’t answer with words, but he did with his tongue against her slit. “Fuck.... Ben!” Sarah moaned tugging at the sheets beside her.

Ben heard her breath getting faster, her body arching for more friction. He place one hand over her hips while the other pushed his fingers inside her. "Fuck sweetheart, I wanted to taste you the minute I laid my eye on you.” He said between sucking at her clit and licking. Sarah felt the coil in her stomach grow. “Oh Ben... don’t stop!” She whimpered. After her high she looked at Ben while he wiped his mouth with the back of his hands.

Sarah wrapped her legs around him, turning him on his back. Her mouth on his, her tongue touching his, tasting herself. Grinding on his coverd cock a few times before lifting herself taking her hand down between their bodies. Ben moaned in her mouth when her hand got down to push down his trainers a little to stroke him. Ben grabbed her hair in his hand when she moved herself down.

Sarah tugged Ben’s pants further down, taking it all the way off together with his underwear. Placing herself on her knees between his legs. She hears him chuckle. “What?” she asked. “Looks like I have you on your knees afterall.” Sarah smacked his thigh but smiled at the same time, Ben could see the lust in her eyes when she kissed and stroke his thighs, hips, ... everywhere exept where he wanted her te most. “Stop teasing princess.” He groaned.

“So needy” she teased sitting back up, Ben looked confused. “Really?” She climbed on top of him smiling. “Your big mouth will get you in trouble, handsome.” She grinded against him while she whispered in his ear. “Had you just kept it shut, I might have sucked you so hard, so long till you came in my mouth.” Ben gripped on her thighs she knew it would leave marks, but she didn’t mind. “Oh, so she likes control?” - “You have no idea.” She said, holding his cock steady for her to sink down on.

Sarah’s head fall back, sitting straight on his lap, Ben saw her face when he filled her up. “Fuck.” was all he could moan. Her hands hold her steady on his chest while she rode him. His hands over her breasts to her neck before he sat up kissing her shoulders, neck, breasts...

Ben pushed her over, her head towards the foot end of the bed. Wrapping her knees over his hips, while he took her wrist in his hands and pulled them over her head. Sarah felt his thrusts getting harder and faster. His cock pushing against that one spot inside her that made her scream his name. “Fuck... Ben! Harder... fuck me harder ... please.” - “Say it again.”

“Fuck... Me... Harder.” she begged out of breath. Ben placed his hands over her throat not entirely kneading but holding her in place, while thrusting harder in her. “I’m going to ruin you for any other man you will ever fuck.” He whispered in her ear.” - “I don’t want anyone else.... fuck... Ben, I only want you.” She managed to say between breaths while she came on his cock, her orgasm never felt this good before. Not long after Ben came too.

Fuck Sarah though staring at the ceiling after coming down from her high. “Maybe a little late, but please tell me you’re on birth control?” Ben said looking over at her. “Heh? Eh yeah, I am.” she answered not mentioning she forgot to take it a couple of nights in a row. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick.” She said jumping up putting on a pair of shorts and her top leaving Ben in her bed.

Sarah ran to the kitchen, starting to throw out everything in her purse trying to find those damn pills, she got nervous. “Looking for something?” She heard Butcher getting in by the back door, putting the lights on. “You’re up late. Need a hand?” - “No, no, I got it.” She said relieved. Taking the pill with a glass of water. “What are you doing here?” She looked at the man. “I couldn't sleep found myself walking here.” He looked at the packaging “Good you take those.” Sarah huffed “Yeah, would not what to put unwanted children on this earth now would we.” She said walking past Butcher. “Sarah...” - “Goodnight.” She quickly said before she had to hear him apologise again.

Ben was still in her bed. “That took long enough.” She crawled in the bed next to him, kissing his lips without saying a word. But he could see she was upset, she hugged him, his steady heartbeat made her fall asleep quickly.

The next morning, she woke up to the sound of clashing pots and pans in the kitchen. When she wanted to move, she could feel Ben’s arm still wrapped around her, spooning. Sarah had moved during the night, but Ben still seemed to hold on to her.

His heavy breathing came to an abrupt stop. “Goodmorning” she said smiling at him softy. “Hmm.” was all he said snuggling closer to the spot between her neck and shoulder. “God, you smell amazing.” he said still sounding sleepy. “We need to get up.” - “Do we?” he asked with a hint of mischief in his voice. Sarah could feel his hand move down, tugging her shorts aside. “I think we still have some unfinished business.”

Sarah felt his dick pushing against her while his hand was making sure she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Without much though she started to copy his behaviour teasing and playing with him. When their breaths got heavier, he moved her shorts down lifting her leg up a little so he could take without moving too much. One hand on her hip while the other held her close to him, wrapped around her breast holding her body close to his.

Ben took her hand and placed it in between her hips, holding his hand over hers. “You feel that?” he moaned “That is where I belong. Deep inside you.” Sarah kissed his lips in return. “Fuck Ben, promise me you’ll fuck me every night.” - “And every morning.” he said kissing the spot behind her ear. “I’m going to fuck you until you’re pregnant.” Shit that didn’t supposed to sound so hot. She though.

After their morning “work out” they both entered the kitchen, seeing literary everyone sitting or standing there. They all stared at the two of them. Kimiko smiled at Sarah, already knowing what had happened. Since she saw Ben sneaking to her room after she left.

“Mornin” she said in unison with Butcher. Ben couldn’t help but to laugh, he couldn’t believe still not everyone saw the resemblance.

*A couple of weeks later*

Today was the day they wanted to take down Homelander. Everyone was preparing but Sarah felt ill, walking to the bathroom she couldn’t help but to overhear a conversation between MM and Frenchie about some gas that could take down Ben. But she decided not to tell him, so he could focus on Homelander. Over these past few weeks they became closer. He shared how he felt about Homelander being his son. “If they just told me. I would have given my seat up.” He had told her somewhere between their passionate nights and open conversations afterwards.

Things got heavy at the Vought tower. Ben tried to hurt Homelander by saying the few words his father ever said to him. ”Being a fucking disappointment.” He tried to turn the conversation to Butcher and Sarah. “So, this is Sarah. Well, sweetheart wish I could say you look like you mother.” - “Fuck you.” - “How are you feeling? Not to nauseous I hope?” He grinned. Sarah looked confused at him, but when he looked at her stomach and back up at her, she realised she was late.

“Congratulations Butcher. Or should I say grandad.” Sarah felt Butchers eyes on her, but all she could do was stare at Homelander, unbelievable she had to find out like this. When Meave placed her hand on her shoulder, she snapped out of the shock, looking between Butcher and Ben. Butcher followed her eyes to Ben. Ben already attacked Homelander, but Ryan defended his father.

When Ben tried to get Ryan and Homelander out of his way Butcher blasted him a crossed the room.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ben said getting up.

“Not the kid.”

“Oh, I thought you said blood didn’t matter. Thought that was the whole fucking point”

“He’s my wife’s son.” Ben looked shocked, seeing Sarah’s eyes grow big. “What!?”

“You leave the mother of your child, YOUR CHILD but you will defend this kid? WHY?” Sarah yelled hitting Butcher in the chest. Homelander heard everything that she said before Maeve hit him. Ben stopped you “Go find the others. I’ll take care of this.” - “I can help.” - “No, I need you to be save.” He said while he kissed the temple of her head. “Go, I got this.” Butcher looked at them realising what was going on.

Sarah ran through the entire building finding Hughie at the control room. She looked at the monitor how everyone attacked Ben. “How, wait why is he the villain in all this?” Sarah saw how Annie reloaded, she ran as fast as she could back to them, she saw how MM held the gas over Ben’s mouth. Ben’s chest was glowing. “I’m not... going back in that... fucking box!”

“MM stop! STOP he will kill everyone!” She felt Maeve running past her. Ben looked at her when she pushed him through the window. Sarah ran after them. “NO!” She fell to her knees, covering her eyes when Ben’s radiation exploded. She looked over her shoulder, everyone was shocked. Butcher laying there on the floor covered in blood.

*After the fight*

Sarah and Butcher were brought to the same hospital. The doctor confirmed her pregnancy. Butcher got a warning never use temp V again or it would get him killed. The drive home was quiet. Once home he spoke to her.

“Sarah, can we talk?”

“It’s late Butcher, I really want to go to bed.”

“It’s important.”

“Fine.” She sighs, taking a seat at the kitchen table copying him.

“I really don’t know where to start but, I never wanted to leave you, luv.” He looked at her with sincere eyes. “I sent you postcards for your birthday, and Christmas and wrote letters, hoping your mother would tell me about you.” Billy saw the tears forming in her eyes. “I didn’t want to be the monster my father was. Didn’t mean I didn’t want to know you...” He paused a second “I want to get to know you and be there for your baby.”

Sarah got up with tears in her eyes “Well thank you for sharing that. Goodnight Butcher.”

She got to her room, falling on to her bed, tears started to fall. After some time she heard her phone buzz. Number unknown.

She picked up “Hello?”

“Sarah? It’s me.”

“Homelander” she recognised his voice.

“We need to talk...”

-----

Part 2 soon : Homelander contacted Sarah, trying to form a front against Butcher, promising her, her child will be save. "Family comes first" He said.

-----

I hope you guys like it! I have a idea for part 2 BUT, Love to hear what you think should happen!

Definitely check out my masterlist!

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ohmystaxk · 1 year

Text

Goodbye, My Dear Stranger (2)

[PREVIOUS] | [NEXT]

Pairing(s): (Jake Lockley x Reader) (Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader later on) [Pre-Moon Knight show]

Chapter Character(s): Steven Grant.

Content/Tags: Reader having creep tendencies, somewhat of a date (?).

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: After meeting Jake, you decided to go to the Museum with a friend. There you meet someone that looks like Jake, but isn't him?

Two days had passed since the night you had met Jake at the café. Unfortunately for you, he had not come back again. Truthfully, you didn’t expect him to. Yes, you had hoped he would come by, order himself the same coffee he had last time and ask how your day was. Perhaps he would check up on you and ask if you had encountered the same guys from last night again. You hadn’t. Perhaps Jake’s little play pretend had worked.

Even when you wanted an interaction with the man, something told you it would not happen again. At least not anytime soon. He seemed rather reserved, since he had barely spoken to you. But then again, he seemed like a lonesome kind of guy. Yet another thing he seemed to share with your elusive neighbor.

That night, when you got home, you noticed no lamps were on at your neighbor’s apartment. The following days had been just the same. You started to think that perhaps he had pieced the puzzle together and realized it wasn’t the first time you were a creep that spied on him. Just the thought made your insides turn and your palms sweaty. Young adult spies on their older neighbor. You could see the headlines in your head.

“You there?” You blinked a couple of times. A face appeared in your field of view, accompanied by a waving hand. It was Deanna.

“Sorry, what?” You asked her and she tilted her head to the side.

“You were gone for a second there. You alright?” She placed her bag on the bench next to you. Deanna turned her body towards you as she sat down on your left.

“I was just thinking. Did you say something?” Deanna nodded with a short sigh.

“Sure did. I’d like to go down to the gift shop if you don’t mind. We can also go down to The Green Wall, see if Martha will get us something to eat after we are done here, yeah?”

Today you hadn’t worked at The Green Wall, the name of the coffee shop. And so, Deanna had asked to go to the Museum down the street from the shop. Neither of you had even been there and wanted to check out the new exhibit they’d been advertising with massive banners outside the building. The concept seemed fun and it wasn’t like you often went to those kinds of places.

The two of you wandered and looked around for about an hour and half. The place was beautiful, tall white walls, some ceilings had skylights allowing for better visibility, and the floor had polished marble tile on the main area. They had a lot of Egyptian artifacts and replicas, paintings, and displays that showed videos of reconstruction of what Egypt could possibly have looked like back in its glory days. It was nice to go out and do something differently than going home and working on your laptop, or watching shows for hours.

“Yeah, sounds good.” You answered. “I might get something from the gift shop too.” Deanna nodded with a smile.

“I saw some cute plushies on our way in. Come on.” She stood up and you followed.

The two of you made your way to the gift shop as Deanna showed you some of the pictures she’d taken when exploring the place. They all looked good and she was trying to decide which ones to post on social media, debating between two pictures that looked the exact same.

So when you walked in, you both were staring at her phone. You pointed at one that had a replica of The Great Pyramid of Giza, the angle and the lighting worked great. When Deanna got herself entranced by her phone, you decided to take a look around, the first thing in front of you was a rotating metal display with postcards.

Most of the pictures were of Egypt, others of the Museum, and a couple of London. You took one in your hands, the photo had the pyramids with a low sunset in the background. It was beautiful. You looked at the rest of the photocards that might catch your attention, it was a voice that caught it instead. You looked through the display and towards the check-out counter.

At the register was none other than Jake. No hat and no low lighting to obstruct his face from the world. You felt your gut flutter with sudden surprise, and reached for Deanna who was still on her phone.

“What?” She looked at you when you tapped her arm.

“It’s him.” You simply said, your eyes wide. You felt your cheeks flush as you looked towards Jake who was with another client at the moment.

“Who is it? Is it the guy from the bad date?” She asked with interest.

“No, the guy from Green Wall.” Deanna’s eyes widened with disbelief.

“One of the fucking dickheads?” You looked at her with a frown.

“What? No. The one that helped me. His name is Jake.” Her expression softened.

“Oh so that’s the lad, yeah? He seems pretty nice and all. Won’t you go and say hello, then?” Deanna shoved you gently, an encouraging smile on her face.

“You know I can’t.”

“Of course you can, love. The man over there doesn’t look like he bites, go on then.” You sighed and tightened your grip on the postcard.

You started walking towards the counter once the clients had left. Your hands grabbed three things at random and made your way towards him.

Once in front of him, he looked up at you. He had a friendly smile on, it seemed genuine and that eased your nerves. In reality, he had a rather pretty smile; warm and inviting.

“Hello there, you found everything?” He said and then you frowned. You remembered him having an accent, just not an English one.

“Y-yeah.” You then placed the items on the counter, not looking at them.

He nodded and started scanning. He looked at you through his lashes. His eyes were soft, not deep or distant like last time. There were eyebags under his eyes, his hair was disheveled, and he had a shadow of a beard. He looked completely different from that night. A hot mess you would dare to say.

“Did you enjoy the tour?” He spoke and you blinked.

“We didn’t take the tour, we just explored by ourselves.” He nodded and placed your items in a bag.

“What were your thoughts? Having, well, not much to go on from.” He then leaned forward just a little, like he was about to hear a secret.

“I liked it. I’d rather do things at my own pace. That way I get to enjoy things and take the moment all in.” He seemed to light up as you said that, a smile formed on his lips again. He had very nice lips.

“That’s good to hear. I hadn’t thought about it that way, you know, the whole no-tour thing.” Yes, Jake didn’t have an English accent. It was then that your eyes fell on his name tag, ‘Steven’.

“You should try it, it’s always nice if you enjoy doing things by yourself.” He nodded again, and he stared at you for a couple of seconds.

“I will. It seems fun. Not like I don’t already do it.” He smiled, he liked to smile, and not forcefully. It was something different. Steven was different. And you liked that. The man was attractive despite his current state.

“Would you like to go out for coffee or something later?” You felt the air leave your lungs the second you uttered those words.

This wasn’t like you. You would never ask a complete stranger out for coffee, or for anything really.

“Sorry?” He seemed just as shocked as you were with a slight tint on his cheek. You opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish.

“I’m sorry, I don't know why I said that. That was so inappropriate, I’m really sorry.” You pull out your wallet and look at the register, the total displayed for you. You placed the amount on the counter.

“No, it’s just. I wasn’t expecting that. Has never happened to me before.” He confessed to you, he seemed genuinely surprised and that made you feel less guilty of pretty much having thrown yourself at him.

“I have never done that, if that helps.” You gave him your name, he smiled and said it out loud. It sounded nice coming from him, you realized.

“Steven.” He pointed at his name tag. “I would love coffee. Tea preferably, I have to admit.”

“Right, well, there’s a coffee shop right down the street by the plaza on main. It’s called The Green Wall.”

“Oh, I know that place! I go there sometimes before work, their tea is truly something else.” His smile got bigger, showing his teeth.

“Well, what about tomorrow? Seven p.m.?” When you asked he nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s a date.” He said and then his smile dropped. “Is it?”

“Sure.” You gave him a smile and he handed you the bag.

“Well then, see you tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You offered him one last smile before slowly turning away. He had smiled before, yet it didn’t seem to compete with how giddy he looked as he smiled at you.

You waited outside the gift shop for Deanna to finish browsing. Every so often, you would stare back into the place to see Steven, taking the time into paying attention to his mannerisms, the way he would emote. You felt like a freaking stalker, but it was impossible for two people to look that alike, right? Your only interaction with Jake had been brief. But, even then, you could tell he was nothing like Steven, and Steven seemed nothing like Jake. Two polar opposites in the same city, in very close proximity to each other.

Jake had mentioned going back to work. You recalled his attire. Either the man liked dressing like somebody's old grandfather who drove cabs for a living, or he actually was a cab driver and dressed as such. Then, there was Steven, a very tired-looking gift shop employee at a Museum. Neither of them seem like the owners of a big flat in downtown London. Unless they had other jobs, just like you did in order to provide for your way-too-small flat. Perhaps, the two were twins and were raised differently, Jake coming from overseas and staying at Steven’s.

Once you and Deanna had made it to Green Wall, it was already night time. You had been shopping around the plaza and getting coffee was the last stop for the night. The two of you said hello to Martha and Rose, the ones working today’s closing shift. The Green Wall ended up getting busy today, people came and went as there weren't many empty seats. Luckily Deanna had snatched a table the second a couple had left.

The door swung after a few minutes and eyes shifted towards the noise it made, more of a reflex than sheer curiosity. Steven had wandered in, his eyes looked at the busy place as he tried to make his way inside. He stood by the register as Martha was taking another order, he fidgeted with the strap of his bag, his shoulders were upwards and closer to his jaw, and his eyes gazed around, as if to busy himself. Steven looked nervous, perhaps even overwhelmed.

“Isn’t that tomorrow’s date?” Deanna spoke from beside you.

“Yeah. His name is Steven.” She frowned at your response.

“Wasn't it Jake?” You shook your head.

“I think Jake and Steven are brothers.”

“Then why ask him out?” You shrugged.

“He seems nice enough. That, and he’s cute.” Deanna shoved you playfully as she pointed at Steven with her chin. You got the message and stood up, making your way towards the man.

Once the two of you were at a good distance, she spoke up gently, not wanting to startle him.

“Hey there, stranger.” Steven turned to look around, his gaze landed on you.

“Hey, a bit busy, innit?” You nodded.

“More than usual. Probably has to do with that new exhibit of yours.” He frowned, tilting his head in confusion. “The museum.”

“Oh, right! Yeah, of course.” He slapped his forehead playfully, looking around. “At least there’s good business today. Place deserves it.” Steven looked back at you.

“Thanks. We work very hard to make everything as good and fresh as possible.”

“Do you own the place?” His eyes widened. You laughed, slapping his shoulder gently.

“No, no. I work here, just not today as you can see.” Steven nodded slowly as you spoke, his mouth forming an ‘O’ as he let out a quick laugh. “Do you want to sit down with me? While you wait, in case you have somewhere else to be.”

“Only place would be my flat, I think Gus can wait a bit.” Steven said and you raised an eyebrow. “My goldfish, he has one fin.”

“Like Nemo?” Steven laughed at that. A hearty laugh that showed you his teeth.

“Just like him, little fella is very special to me.” You couldn’t help but laugh back.

“I bet he’s one lucky little guy.” Steven stared at you again, he seemed to do that a lot. You were not used to it. Then, his eyes softened and creased at the corners as he smiled. He had pretty lashes, long and thick, his eyes doe-like as the warm lighting shined on them.

The sound from the music on the speakers faintly seeped through your ears as time went by.

Take me out tonight

Where there’s music and there’s people

And they’re young and alive

“Yeah, he is.”

Driving in your car

I never, never want to go home

“Are you two ready to order?” Rose spoke suddenly. The two of you turned towards her. From the way she grinned at the two of you, you knew she was having a laugh. You rolled your eyes at her.

Because I haven’t got one

Anymore

“I’ll go and sit down.” You placed a hand on his back gently before walking towards the table you were sharing with Deanna.

Deanna eyed you with a smirk once you sat down. “What was that?”

Driving in your car

Oh, please don’t drop me home

“Rose decided to interrupt us.” You responded.

“I know she did. Poor lad had heart eyes and all of that.” Deanna started gathering her things. You raised an eyebrow at her and she scoffed. “You’ll need another chair, unless the man offers his lap for you.”

“Thank you, Deanna. Let me know when you get home.” The woman bent down gave you a quick hug. You hugged her back.

Because it’s not my home, it’s their home

And I’m welcome no more

“Sure thing. Don’t forget to tell me how things go, yeah?” You nodded at her, she waved at you as she left your table. She walked through the dining area, waved goodbye at Martha and Rose, then she left the shop.

Steven came back a few minutes later. He smiled nervously as he gestured at the now empty seat. You nodded at him.

“Did your friend leave already?” He asked as he sat down, placing his bag on his lap. He looked around one more time.

“Do crowded spaces make you anxious?” You asked him with curiosity as you took a sip of your drink.

“No. It’s just that I’ve never stayed long enough to take a good look at the place.” He was still looking around, his eyes filled with awe.

“You seem to like it.” You placed your drink down. Once again, his eyes found yours.

“I do. It’s rather pretty here, and it feels cozy.” He admitted to you with a sheepish smile.

“I think so too, but this isn’t better than the museum.” When you said that, you had said it in a playful way. However, he shook his head with a frown.

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine

“The museum? No, no. I love the museum, yes. But the employees are much nicer here, I have to admit.” When he said that last sentence, he grinned at you and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Don’t think that’ll get you a free drink, sir. Are your coworkers not nice?”

“Most are, some barely notice me. Then there’s my boss Donna who makes me stay overnight almost every night, she also calls me Stephen.” He gave you a tight smile, his eyes shifted to your hands when your fingers rubbed the side of your drink in a distracted manner.

“You can always stop by and fill out a job application.” You offered.

“No, no, it would be a mistake to hire me here. I would end up setting the place on fire somehow.” The two of you laughed. The conversations around you seemed to dissipate as you both kept on talking.

Take me anywhere, I don’t care

I don’t care, I don’t care

“Well, I think you would make a great barista, you just haven’t tried.” As soon as you said that, you heard Martha call out an order, to which Steven turned around immediately.

“That’s mine. I’ll be right back” Steven got up from his chair, placing his bag down on the chair and walked towards the counter.

Steven behaved like he was dreading something would inconvenience him along the way. His shoulders held tension while he dug around one of his front pockets. As he received his drink, you saw Martha smile at him and he gave her a quick nod. You didn’t know if he smiled back, but the slight quirk on his lip as he turned around to walk back towards you, told you he might’ve.

And in the darkened underpass

I thought oh, God, my chance has come at last

The soft light of the café showered him. Brown skin glowing a honey gold, soft messy curls that seemed chocolate brown instead of black, and full lips with a hint of pink. His clothes, loose and big, hid his frame under layers of funky prints and fabric.

By the time he returned, the tension on his body was gone. His long lashes shined under the light and his eyes seemed to twinkle when he smiled nervously at you.

“Everything alright?” He spoke, taking his seat once again.

But then a strange fear gripped me

And I just couldn’t ask

Then it hit you.

This was the man who you’d been spying on for the past month. The man who you would unconsciously await to see turn on his light at night, and then you’d watch him read by the table. Unbeknownst to him, you had formed a routine around his schedule, a parasocial behavior with a man you’d never met before. Something a creep would do. Something you did.

You couldn’t talk to him. You couldn’t get to know him.

“Yeah, sorry.” You grabbed your bag. “It was nice having a little chat, Steven. I have to go now. I was out all day and I have to work tomorrow.”

“No worries. Do you want me to walk you to the tube, or to a cab maybe?” He was about to stand up, but you shook your head.

“It 's alright. The stop is not that far from here. And you just got here. Enjoy your night, Steven.” You stood up and felt your heart tighten when Steven spoke.

“Thank you, love. Be safe on your way home, yeah? I’ll see you tomorrow?” He was smiling so warmly at you.

“I’m afraid tomorrow will be just as busy. Maybe another day. I’m sorry.” Steven shook his head this time.

“Don’t be. I understand now that I see how packed it gets in here. I hope we get to know each other more another day. Stay safe.”

Oh, there is a light that never goes out

There is a light that never goes out

“Goodbye, Steven.”

That night when you got home, you moved your workspace away from the window and back to your bedroom. From the gap between the drapes, you saw a light turn on from his apartment. You pulled the fabric shut.

Add yourself to the taglist!

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#jake lockely x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x reader #fanfic #oscar isaac #goodbye my dear stranger

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bcbdrums · 2 months

Note

📂

Any headcannon about where Maka's mom is?

WELL.

anime canon first. either she's 1) dead, and Spirit sends the postcards. 2) legit went on a never-ending vacation after the divorce with no intent to return (and heck maybe it's still Spirit sending the postcards), or 3) she was exiled by Lord Death for not sticking around to do her freaking job.

manga canon is...basically the same, except no postcards exist of course.

all in all.... my headcanon is, she was a lousy mother from the start, barely spending time with baby Maka. dropping her at daycare at each and every opportunity. she still wanted to do her job at first, but. teen pregnancy kinda ruins life's trajectory, you know? plus...her weapon (and i say "her weapon" loosely she straight-up stole Stein's weapon) no longer belongs to her; she wanted clout for making Lord Death's personal weapon i think, so schemed to get Spirit. didn't count on getting pregnant, oops. then her weapon is no longer hers cuz...what did she think was gonna happen by turning a scythe into a death scythe?? and she's got a baby. no more school, no more missions, probably no more friends... or few. and those she has are the ones she'd yeet off to see when dropping Maka at daycare.

i think that she stuck around in Maka's life consistently for less than five years. like. idk. i think she'd take off on long trips for herself. traveling the world. she was likely a person with great wanderlust; i think many meisters may be, but that's a side-note. but like... what was she gonna do? she's gotta be a mother now. her life as she'd planned it to be.... traveling the world, taking missions... is over. i think she very selfishly just...left. while Maka was still young. barely ever came around for visits, fought with Spirit the whole time she did...

i also think she actively poisoned Maka's thinking of her father. i think she put it into Maka's head that Spirit was a cheat, and little toddler Maka drew on available evidence to make her mother's words seem true. (see: this post where i spell out how it's possible Spirit never cheated at all.)

and then once the divorce was final, which, honestly probably only took so long because she couldn't be bothered to come around to actually go through with it... she just left for good. she can't be the great renowned meister she wanted to be anymore, so she's kinda floating around, wasting the rest of her youth, trying to find herself. and not succeeding it seems, or else she'd make some attempt to be a better mother in my opinion. back to manga here... she couldn't even be bothered to give Spirit his ring back in person at the divorce; she mailed it to him later on. like. man.

i do feel sorry for her. but running away from her family is not a solution. and stealing someone's weapon to begin with...was a bad move. this woman is not anyone to be idolized or held on a pedestal.

i could go on and on and on about this, but... i'll do that in various fanfics :) so yeah, where is she? she took off and is doing her own thing and has no connections anymore to the DWMA, is the headcanon i'm going with for now.

thanks for the ask!!!

#soul eater #spirit albarn #maka albarn #maka's mother #kami albarn

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overleftdown · 4 months

Text

angsty farleigh start blurb

hello hi fanfiction! mostly character study with a lot of sad hehehah. what else would one expect from me!

There are things that Farliegh took for granted. 3 months after leaving Saltburn, he realizes that money isn't really one of them.

Instead, he finds himself folded over a mug of lukewarm coffee at 2am, staring down a collection of postcards mounted on the far wall of his local diner. He had just finished working a double, unwilling to decline an offer that would bump both his pay and reputation. Farleigh has 8 hours until his next shift. He's staring at a postcard from Greece, a name hastily penned onto the front; the edges are worn, and the corners bent. He's wondering what's written on the side pressed to the yellowing popcorn walls. Almost absentmindedly, he lifts the rim of his mug to his lips and thinks, I wish I told them how much I wanted to see Mykonos. The coffee is bitter.

It becomes a constant, after that. Walking through the American snack isle and passing his favorite cereal brand, thinking I wish I had told them how good Reece's Puffs were. Catching the eye of a boy around his age with a piercing through his left nostril, thinking I wish I told Felix to get that one. Going, alone, to a movie theater and thinking I wish I told Venetia that I loved Rocky Horror Picture Show. On and on it went.

I wish I told them I saw the Grand Canyon, and that it was so gorgeous I lost my breath. I wish I told them that I always preferred white wine over red. I wish I told them that my silk bedding was so my hair wouldn't dry out, tangle, or tear. I wish I told them about the friendship bracelets I once made for us; that I kept all three in a box under my bed. I wish I told them I was scared of being insignificant. I wish I told them that I missed my mom and dad, that I'm farther from myself every day, that I might hate myself despite my arrogance.

Farleigh has spent his life hiding. There were dinner party invites that didn't extend to his father, yet somehow included him. Farleigh remembers sitting secluded, for once wishing he kept his hair short. Older women who wanted so badly to be young, gravitating towards him with greetings like "You're Frederica's son! I always wondered what you'd look like. I never expected a handsome young man like yourself." And the men; rough yet unworn hands that sometimes gripped the nape of his neck. "You're unique, Farleigh. It's hard to find someone who looks quite like you. You're maturing quickly." On and on it went. Despite the itching, Farleigh never cut his hair short. The Cattons would ask him why he insisted on such messiness, contrary his otherwise sharp fashion. Silk pillowcases. Five shampoo bottles, an array of hair creams--all kept out of eyesight. Better to let them believe his hair was a casual affair, and intentionally so.

The cocaine had been the least of his hidings (and look where that landed him). People are always sequestering the sunburnt, raw-rubbed, defective pieces of themselves. The things they so desperately clung to, bad habits like a bright red blemish on a ledger, or a lifeline. The first time Farleigh saw the inside of a teacher's lounge had been 30 minutes past the final bell, with a head of tangled hair that he had styled perfectly just 7 hours ago. He remembers accepting the offered cup of tea and thinking Felix won't notice I'm gone. He had told Felix what he did that evening, anyways. This, Farleigh had never thought to hide. Better not to. Better to tell Felix, who was so prone to flippancy, that he would do anything for a good grade.

"What, you're that shit at school, mate? Jesus. You better not tell anyone; you'd get ousted in days." Felix had said, a painful looking blush to his face. They had only been 16, after all. "I mean, seriously! I never took you for a pillock." At that, Farleigh had raised his eyebrows skeptically. There are some things that were abundantly clear. Uncle James had insisted that Farleigh required a higher education than whatever American dumpster he would be learning his times tables in, and the rest of the Cattons had quickly glued themselves to the idea. They liked to think that they were saving him from stupidity.

In the end, it had been Felix who told someone Farleigh's secret. Namely, his new friend that had been sitting in Farleigh's seat for the last 2 weeks. After countless meetings and scoldings, and significant attempts to publicly humiliate him, Farleigh was sent back to Saltburn before his transfer. When Elspeth and James asked, frantically, what Farleigh had been thinking, he had told them that he needed a better grade. They'd just have to try harder to save him. In truth, there were some things that never really went away, like a teachers lounge and a fresh cup of tea. Something secret, something just for him.

The things that Farleigh insisted on hiding were good things, already half-stained by the bad. A family photo album inside of a shoebox inside of a pillowcase inside of a duffel bag under his bed, next to the ornate little chest where he obviously kept his drugs. Photo strips, polaroids from New York City, his mom's peach scented powder blush, his dad's discarded tie clip. If you keep what really matters just far enough to the side of what people consider a secret, they'll never look any harder. Farleigh has always believed that your worst mistakes only marginally define your humanity. Really, it's what someone loves, isn't it? It's who they would change for. It's who they would make bracelets for.

Back to the diner, back to the present, back to a time and place where nobody really cared to distinguish a secret from a statement. Back to the postcard from Greece that Farleigh wants to rip off the wall, just to read what is obscured. Saltburn was so large of a life that it was impossibly surreal, too many millions of dollars past tangibility. Whatever was written on that postcard was touchable. A small piece of an even smaller existence. Farleigh was terrified of what it meant to be alive. To stash pieces of himself in dark places like stowaways on the Titanic. To carry what was left after the rest capsized.

I wish I'd given them those bracelets. I made them so they'd think of me, even when I wasn't there.

#farleigh start #character study #saltburn #op is losing it #farleigh omonomnomnomnom

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natequarter · 5 months

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i've been thinking about the ghosts' lives, and i think we exaggerate the extent of their loneliness whilst they were alive. i don't deny that some of their afterlives (mostly humphrey) are filled with loneliness and boredom, but that doesn't account for who they were and what they did in life. it doesn't help that, in the case of humphrey and fanny, most of their flashbacks or anecdotes of their lives are centred on their marriages and respective estrangement - but nothing suggests that their lives in general were sad and lonely.

in en français it's mentioned that humphrey is attending a feast, and in the book we see fanny writing letters to her friends, as well as the menu for her own banquet. neither of them seem miserable at the prospect of these social events, which suggests to me they both had friends of their own. we also get to see the captain's interactions with his regiment (aka idiots fumbling around), kitty hitting it off with a young man her age, and pat writing postcards to his family. none of that seems to suggest overwhelmingly lonely or isolated lives to me, even if those feelings were at some point present. within the show, as well, fanny's relationship with george actually seems quite warm and affectionate. it's only with hindsight that we can see carol's cheating or george's threesomes and murder.

another thing to remember is unhappy marriages were common in the past, thanks to arranged marriages and a lack of access to counselling or divorce. humphrey couldn't have annulled his marriage - the reformation didn't actually change the laws surrounding marriage in england. divorce (when it finally did come around) was also hugely stigmatised well into the twentieth century - even when it was legal, it wasn't necessarily a viable option. this is why a happy marriage, whilst convenient, wasn't necessarily the expectation. taking on mistresses or visiting brothels were common behaviour amongst tudor men for a reason, despite being frowned on by the church, so his marriage was not the be all and end all.

we also get an overwhelming focus on humphrey's home life. humphrey is stated to be nobility and a knight, so he almost certainly spent a large part of his life at court, where he would've had frequent interactions with men his age - and just people full stop - some of whom were probably lifelong friends, and whom he would have written to even when not at court. besides court, as a rich and powerful man, he would have interacted with a lot of people in his daily life - guests at his house, negotiations, really a constant stream of visitors, not to mention being constantly surrounded by servants. his life, unlike his death, was probably a far cry from lonely and forgotten.

one other thing we don't really get a sense of in ghosts is the ghosts' family. does the captain have siblings? did mary have a close relationship with her parents? did humphrey have children? we get some answers to these - we see pat and julian's relationships with their families, and we know fanny must have had kids - but with mary and humphrey in particular, we never really get a sense of what their families looked like beyond one or two relatives. we don't see kitty's cousins; we don't see mary's children; we don't see thomas' siblings. and so on, and so forth.

it's just part of how the show is structured, not an intentional flaw, but i do think we sometimes exaggerate the extent of the ghosts' lives. many of these people were surrounded by friends and acquaintances! we just don't see it so much, because those people are all very dead. the only place this is really preserved and present in the show is in the plague ghosts' friendships, which give us an idea of their very communal and interdependent lives. oh, and robin's tribe. and the incest...

it's easy to forget the ghosts' lives when they've been dead for so long, but i think we do them a disservice when we ignore the majority of their pasts to focus on one aspect of their relationships.

#bbc ghosts

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gerryrigged · 11 months

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For the wip ask game, could you say more about the DickTim reverse robin AU? 👀

Ahhh, I love that one, but it has several backstory/set-up arcs before the romance can even kick off hghkkldjfs THE STRUGGLES

OKAY SO. This is a story about a young Dick being in love with a years-older Tim from childhood, reversing their usual ship dynamic. Most of what I have so far is concerning their backstories, when Dick is still quite young (5-10-ish), so it's more of a puppy love at that point, while Tim sees him as a child.

Overview of the first arc below the cut.

First off, 12-year-old Tim is newly training to be Shrike (the hero identity Damian Wayne abandoned (or Batman took away from him; opinions differ) after he and Bruce had a serious falling out). As part of that training, he's sent to learn from various experts in physical and crime-fighting arts, much as Bruce did when he first left Gotham, or as Tim was meant to on his first Paris trip in canon.

So Tim ends up training in acrobatics for a month with the famous Flying Graysons, whom he has long admired - along with their 5-year-old wunderkind son, Dickie. Who absolutely adores Tim, following him around everywhere, showing off his own (legitimately incredible) skills, sweetly promising to 'teach Timmy everything he knows' and insisting on flying with Tim on the trapeze at every opportunity. Tim fully dotes on him, and Dick just blooms like a little flower whenever he has the older boy's attention.

When Tim isn't training (or catering to Dick's adorably bossy whims), he's often taking pictures with the beloved camera he couldn't bring himself to leave at home. And the circus provides such a vivid panorama to capture - something new every moment!

Once, however, he unknowingly photographs something dangerous, and when someone is sent to steal the evidence (ie Tim's camera), Dickie walks in on the attempted theft. He starts to shout, but is immediately grabbed and a hand clamped over his mouth. Dickie struggles harder, kicking and screaming even with his mouth closed, so the man shushing him grips even tighter, his big hand covering the whole of Dickie's tiny mouth and nose.

Dickie soon starts to suffocate.

Until Tim bursts in, fast and furious. Dick, still thrashing weakly but fading fast, sees Tim run up and do a flying kick to take down the other thug on the scene. He hears Tim yell out for him, just as his eyes roll up and he loses consciousness.

Tim ends up having to perform CPR - luckily, learning first aid, including forms of CPR for all ages, was one of the first things Bruce set him to learning.

Dickie wakes up with Tim breathing life into him, while John and Mary also kneel close by, frantic, with various circus folk pacing on phones to 9-1-1 or kicking the tied-up thugs in the background.

Dickie stares up at Tim, the fuzzy white static of oxygen deprivation painting a halo all around him in Dickie's vision. His knight in shining armor!!! His HERO!!!!!!

(Meanwhile, Tim is trying not to break down crying or hug Dickie so tight in relief that he has trouble breathing again.)

The Graysons REALLY adopt Tim after that. The whole circus does.

("I'm gonna marry Timmy!" Dickie insists after they get home from the hospital. He's suckered Tim onto his bed with him with tearful eyes (Tim really didn't need much prodding to come and cuddle him immediately) and is glommed onto Tim's waist, clinging. "Just you watch." Mary teases (somewhat emotionally) that Tim already stole Dickie's first kiss, so of course he has to make an honest boy of him. Then Tim can be a Grayson 'officially' - hurray, she's so happy!)

(Tim can't stop smiling, so he hides it by pressing his lips to Dickie's hair.)

Tim keeps in contact with Mary, John, and especially Dick after he has to leave. Video calls, texts, postcards, the works. And he makes time to fly out whenever Haly's is traveling the eastern seaboard - to visit, cheer on their performances, spend time playing around with Dickie all over the circus and on the trapeze.

He's family.

("He's my fiance," Dickie corrects. "I thought you said he was your older brother?" one of the clowns asks, tapping his nose teasingly. "Same thing," Dickie sniffs, batting him away.)

So of course 8-year-old Dick notices immediately when Tim stops returning his texts. And his emails. And answering his phone - until his voicemail fills all the way up from Dickie's frantic calls.

It takes them a while to track down Tim's obituary, and the write-up of his funeral, in the Gotham Gazette. Tim had been so private about the people in his life away from the circus, so they hadn't had anyone else to call and ask, and limited resources to put into the search from their tour on the other side of the continent.

When they find out, Dick sinks to the floor and curls into a ball, a silent little pillbug of lost, confused grief. Mary scoops him up and wraps herself around him, and John wraps himself around Mary. They rock, and they soak each other's skin with tears, until Dick's heart cracks open and a thin, wavering wail pours out. It never seems to stop.

He doesn't smile or speak for weeks.

#dicktim #asks #gerryrigged #gerry words #dc #dick will eventually end up with the waynes #and tim will eventually reappear like a knife sliding into gotham's meaty heart #and EVENTUALLY their romance can start once dick is not a literal child hghkldjfks

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themoonitselff · 10 months

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Love Letters | Kurapika x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: Slightly mentions of depression, just angst and fluff. THIS WAS MADE WITH TRANSLATOR, BE GENTLE. Any suggest is fine💖

Summary: You always send poems to Leorio, but they arrived to his best friend.

You lived on the other side of the world, you were a writer known for your novels who worked in a bookstore to support your few earnings in your works, you had several friends, among them, Leorio Paradiknight, you knew him for a long time, since you were teenagers, but you took different paths, he was a doctor who helped those who could not afford his treatments, and a hunter who survived the dark continent, while you went for the artistic faculties side and a more peaceful life, but what could never be erased since you met him were your feelings for him. You usually write to each other from time to time, he tells you about his adventures with his friends and the reckless things he usually does with his money, and you respond by telling him about your new ideas for new stories, you were so close but yet so far ....

This time, you found yourself determined to write him poems anonymously, with your writer name, because he thinks you put your real name on your books, but you didn't. You took a pen and started writing, every word was aligned with your heartbeat, every sentence seemed to be taken out of a fairy tale, and the way you expressed yourself was different from how you used to talk to him, you were cordial, polite, kind, and flattering, you finished the letter and when you read it, you were surprised with your own words.

"My dear, your beauty resembles the luster of a pearl.

Delicate, brilliant, unique.

Let me be the golden chain that complements you, because from me you will never fall, golden prince."

Short, but ethereal.

You put it in a beige envelope, and sealed it with red wax, next to a daisy, finally you added perfume as a detail, and wrote his address, your heart almost coming out of your throat. The days passed, and became weeks, and the weeks became 2 months, and he still didn't answer, but he kept writing you normally and he didn't answer your anonymous letter... Did he get it? Did he like it? Did he know it was you? Does he like you?

2 months before

He was in his room, a depressing room with four walls and little light, next to the mess that all his discomfort was causing, he was rotting in the agony of revenge, the thirst for power and seeing the face of those who took his family away from him in silence. Suddenly, a ding dong chimed at the front door, Kurapika felt a strange feeling in his stomach, since no one knew where hr was staying, not even his friends.

He got up from his dying bed and opened the door.

"Good afternoon, this letter has been sent to you a few weeks ago, from [Your continent]." mused the delivery man, he seemed rushed by his tone of voice.

"A letter? "Kurapika took it, it had a postcard and it smelled quite nice, you could say the scent made him wake up.

"That's right... Well, I have to go, I have more things to deliver!" and he ran off, leaving the young blond behind him at the door.

"Wait! ... Damn!" Kurapika exclaimed, he went inside his apartment and closed the door, looking carefully at the letter.

It had vintage details, and it was in perfect condition, it had no Nen on it, it was a harmless letter and not a trap from any of his enemies looking for him: The Chain User.

He sat on the couch in front of a short legged table, and opened this letter carefully, unfolded the sheet and read the text carefully, it was very short, but the words embodied provoked a different feeling in him.

Warmth in his chest, tickles in his ribs, butterflies in his stomach. He was enraptured. He saw the author's note and his eyebrows went up, his favorite author of novels was writing to him. To him!? It couldn't be, because they didn't know each other.

"I have to return this letter, this is a mistake" He muttered, he was about to leave his place when, again, that feeling in his chest attacked him, it's like when fire embraces you with its burning embers, but it didn't burn, not at all. His intrusive thoughts wouldn't let him give it back, even if his morals attacked him, an internal struggle with himself not to be nosy and steal something that isn't his, use the identity of the author's lover, maybe.

But how bad could it be?

His feelings and illusions ended up winning over his brain, and he went to a table to write in response to that beautiful poem that caught his attention.

It sparked an interest in them.

You didn't think he was going to answer you, but he did, week after week waiting at the letter carrier's office for his message, and viceverse, both were in love with each other, but without knowing each other yet, you thought he was Leorio, and Kurapika didn't know who you were. But what you both knew is that soon, that was going to change, you were planning a flight to Japan just to see him and reveal him your identity, who you were, you never thought that Leorio could be so serious, mysterious and charming, you could say that even the writing was different(MAYBE BC HE'S NOT LEORIO👹), but it doesn't matter, you fell harder for him, you were going to meet in Yorkshin specifically, on an iconic bridge of the place, you couldn't wait to meet his lips with yours, his eyes pierce your soul and connect both of your bodies.

The day came, you got your bags off the plane and went to your reservation at a luxurious hotel, at this point you were already loaded with money from your excellent sales, it was no problem where to stay, you dressed up as best you could and 10 minutes before you were already on site.

When you arrived, no one was there yet, you sighed with relief, you didn't want Leorio to notice yet, you ran the risk of losing the relationship you had with him for a long time, but a part of your heart said it didn't matter, we were all born to die.

Minutes passed and, he still didn't arrive, you stared at the lake below the bridge until the Sun set and you gave up, your crystal clear eyes ruined your facial routine and your feet were tired of waiting, telling yourself what a fool you are for believing that someone like him would set his eyes on you.

Then, a tall, blond, pale-skinned man stood next to you, you didn't notice him, it was as if he had appeared out of nowhere, you jumped in fright and then realizing you were crying, you wiped your tears and looked away.

"Excuse me, do you know where [xxx] is? "You asked him to leave at once, your foreign accent was noticeable for miles.

"It's six blocks from here." He answered dryly, without looking you in the face, his eyes were droopy, empty, they didn't shine despite the evening illumination, his aura was mysterious, dim, interesting.... But you already loved someone else.

"Thank you." You thanked before you left.

Before you turned around, the stranger turned to see you, your appearance looked similar to him, he searched in his memories who you looked like until he realized that you were that famous writer, he didn't hesitate to go behind you to take your arm and stop you.

"Excuse me." He said, you turned to look at him confused, tilting your head slightly waiting for him to explain himself. "I... I know you."

"I don't know who you are.." You said, still dumbfounded.

The stranger looked lost, as if he was searching for an excellent answer, he was silent for a while, you just rolled your eyes and disengaged from his grip, going on your way.

Then, you heard his voice again behind you.

"Wait!" You saw him again. His eyes unlike the first time you saw them, they were bright, flashing red pigments, you could feel a good feeling from him, from his very formal dress, his long straight hair, his style so.... Hungry for life.

"Yes?"

...

"I'm your prince... Your golden prince."

THIS WQS MESSY I KNOW I MEAN I DIDN'T EVEN MADE A MASTERLIST HAAHHAJA IDK HOW TO MAKE ONEZ ANYWAYS

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