#I haven't memorized any phone number

[midnightstollsinlatefall1]

This is actually dialog from my Agents of Atlas WIP

Rick: You wanna borrow my phone, see if you can call someone? Darcy: I don't memorize people's phone numbers.

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

VI. do you trust me?

parts: previously / next plot: things are getting messy. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, descriptions of surgery, angsty mcangsty pants as always, mentions of the christian God and religious practices, maybe you and bruce wouldn't have to keep so many secrets if you just made out a lil bit, :). words: 6.2k.

a/n: edit as of 2/11/24: replaced mistaken use of "officer" with "detective".

Your needle passes through skin to the beat of a steady metronome. It's made up of muscle memory, glazing your mind as your hands thread the tear together. With each pass, you're unblinking. There are three others in the room with you but they might as well be shadows, faceless and without sound, coloring your peripheral but otherwise of no concern.

The steady metronome beats on well into your final pull of the thread, well into your dismissal of the shadows, well into the comforts of your office where your brain falls out of rhythm. It's been 48 hours and you haven't found a clue.

You'd think after 17 years that you'd have forgotten his name, but you remember Detective Russo. About 5'9, a kinky black beard, and bushy eyebrows that took up good real estate on his forehead. You remembered sizing up every one of those officers, but he was the one you'd memorized. He was the one that promised you that no one would ever know you were there that night. And now Bruce knows.

He was a detective of little significance outside of that, as far as your research was concerned. He'd served a whopping total of 20 years on the force before retiring seven years ago, but without any social media presence or nearby family to speak of, you couldn't find him. Not an old address, not a phone number, nothing. It was like he'd wiped himself clean the minute he retired. Which meant you'd have to resort to plan B.

Your boss intercepts you before you can even get to the stairs, though. Rudy Moretti rarely had good timing, after all, "Hey! Early lunch?"

You think about lying for all of two seconds, "No. Headed to the police station."

Your boss' eyebrows shoot up. "Whoa, everything okay? Are one of those guys from the other night bothering you? I can come with you if you need-"

"No, no. Nothing like that. It's something personal."

Rudy shifts awkwardly, "Oh. Well, be safe. And let me know if anything like that pops up." You nod, attempting to escape, but his hand finds your elbow and stops you, "By the way... how's everything with Mr. Wayne?"

You should've expected a question like that by now. You had been officially working for him long enough to warrant it, but you still wince. "Fine." When your boss blinks at you, expecting more, you have to bite your tongue to keep from swearing, "I actually... was invited to a celebration for the Mayor. Courtesy of Mr. Wayne. She was interested in the hospital's new wing. We had a good conversation."

Like a child on Christmas morning, your boss lights up at the good news. "Oh, that's good! That's good. Did she mention wanting to come down for a tour?"

"What happened to you should have never happened in the first place. I'm glad you were able to make it out alive."

Her hand on yours should've been a comfort, and to some extent it was, but even the softness of her palm couldn't have steadied your trembling. She had squeezed tighter when she felt it, perhaps thinking you traumatized for having to recall that night. Unaware of where you'd been. Unaware of the burning need to escape before you spilled your guts on the Persian rug.

"It happens all the time," a voice came from your right, a drunken councilman with his suit jacket unbuttoned, "and it'll keep happening so long as that thug's still running the streets."

"Thug?" The mayor dipped her chin.

"With all due respect, Bella, what's your plan to put Batman in Arkham for good?"

You watched the mayor's back straighten, her eyes narrow. It was the one thing everyone was itching to talk about, and the one thing everyone was too afraid to bring up first.

You felt Bruce's knee bump yours and stiffened.

"You think he ought to be imprisoned?" The mayor asks.

"I think he ought to be drawn and quartered! It's people like him that make this city a far cry from its glory days. Inviting violence, chaos. He's single-handedly responsible for that- that homicidal freak that nearly killed you, mayor. And he's responsible for everything else this city's suffered since he started infecting it. He's a menace. It'll be a cold day in hell before this city's safe with him still on the streets."

It sickened you to hear. People who'd done nothing since being elected calling for the arrest of the one person who's made any real change in this city.

The mayor doesn't immediately speak up and you think she's chewing on his words, preparing to respond with a bit more bite. Her pause is what prompts you to speak first, "If it wasn't for the Batman, I might be dead. He's done more good for this city than bad..." you watch the councilman turn his focus to you, looking baffled as to why you were butting in, as if you hadn't just finished recounting your brush with death moments ago, "...with all due respect, Councilman Roberts."

The councilman sobers up at the heavy gaze you level on him, "Oh, no. Of course. Of course! It's good that he was there. It would've been a- been a real tragedy to lose one of Gotham's good, fine citizens. I'm just saying that... maybe these things wouldn't be happening if he wasn't there to... encourage it."

"You think he's encouraging it?" The mayor chimes in, taking a sip from her glass. Whatever she was going to say before has been shelved for the time being, it seems.

The councilman laughs. You watch him twist so that he's facing you and the mayor, holding his glass to her like a gavel for judgement, "He's a glorified criminal! He's no better than that clown we put away years ago."

"He put away, councilman. I believe you meant to say he," Bruce's first words since he'd introduced you to Bella give you a shiver. With his one arm hanging off the back of the couch, he leans in from beside you and smiles that TV smile again, "Unless you've got something you’d like to share with the class?"

Snickers break out amongst the group. You can feel Bruce's breath on your shoulder for only a passing moment, and then he's falling back into the couch and taking a swig of his wine.

The councilman bristles, clearly not a fan of being laughed at. Or being faced with the truth, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just a silly theory of mine. It's just... it would make sense for a vigilante to hide his identity by publicly denouncing himself, especially if he’s in the public eye already. I mean, it would make most people cross you off their list but... you're making me think twice about you."

You chance a glance at Bruce's face. He isn't drunk. His eyes hold a steady gaze with the councilman encroaching on your space to meet it, and even with the looseness of his body, you can tell he's calculating. His arm behind your head feels drawn tight. You can sense it in its weight near your head. He's flashing his teeth and keeping his voice light, but he's not defenseless. He's leveraging.

Your heart hammers again at what lie beneath this tower.

The councilman flushes. Sinks back into his seat, grumbling, but all eyes on him has him forcing a grin, "You're funny, Wayne. Unfortunately for your theory, I have a real job. Making real change in this city. Something Batman wouldn't understand."

That does something to you, "Maybe I'm biased, but... I've seen what he's done for this city, sir. And in the wake of last year, I think we can all agree that... well, anyone can say they're making change. Even if they're just making money instead. Perhaps it feels like Batman is doing more because we actually know what he's doing."

Bruce's leg bumps yours again. Accidentally.

You watch the councilman's Adam's apple bob, "No offense, and I'm sure you feel offended on behalf of the man that saved you, but there are laws that make sure people like me and Ms. Reál don't cross the line. What say you, when your hero takes things too far one day, hm? Who're you going to call when the Batman beats someone's brains in because people like you justify it? Or is it only okay because at least he stopped you from getting a bullet to the head?"

You're about to spew the first thing that comes to mind, probably full of anger and vitriol and a little of whatever you had to drink earlier, when you feel a hand take hold of your inner wrist. Bruce's grip is firm, but it doesn't hurt you. It's enough to stop whatever might come out of your mouth. When you look him in the eye, he's not smiling anymore.

You stare at each other like that for a few moments, not a word shared but a million thought. It was almost like he knew what you were going to say, knew how it might've made you look, made you both look. Had imagined it coming out of his own mouth too, maybe.

Instead, he releases you and turns to the councilman, "Okay, enough. We all feel pretty spirited about the topic." When the councilman scoffs, Bruce nods to you, "I think you both make good points. He's done good. He saved my doctor, of whom I never would've had the pleasure of working with otherwise. But I have to agree with you, councilman: he operates outside of the law and that is cause for concern. I'm sure these are all important issues that our mayor is working tirelessly to address, isn't that right, Mayor?"

Mayor Reál has her leg crossed over the other, eyes cutting from the councilman's to Bruce's to yours. Eventually, she smiles and raises her glass, "Indeed. This conversation was enlightening. Much to think about."

"I'm gonna get another drink." Your announcement is followed by the most graceful exit you can muster, even though your chest is throbbing with adrenaline and you can feel Bruce following you.

You don't stop until you reach the bar and have another glass in hand, doing your best to ignore his presence as he looms beside you. He allows you a full three sips before he starts talking, "Are you okay?"

The diplomat from before is long gone. He's melted, keeping his back to the group you'd just escaped and giving you such wet puppy dog eyes that it makes you want to hurl again. How could he look you in the eye?

Your hand shakes around the stem of your glass, "You're different around them."

His eyes fall to the bar top, "I am?"

"Smiling, friendly, funny..."

He cuts his eyes back to you, smiling a little, "I'm not usually funny?"

"You pretend to be laid-back around them, and I get why. But you don't do that with me. You act like I know some big secret about you and I'm this close to spilling it," you pinch your fingers together in front of his face, "or maybe you know some big secret about me."

You watch his face for any sign of recognition, but you're disappointed to find there is none. No reaction other than a sigh. "I pretend around them because I don't trust them."

"And you trust me? Even though we barely know each other?"

Uncharacteristically, Bruce tilts so close toward you that you bend back to keep some semblance of space between you, "You're asking if I trust the person I pay to keep me alive over... Councilman Roberts." He pronounces the last two words with such incredulity, then laughs right after. You note his breath smells sweet, but nothing like the wine. Had it been wine he'd been drinking? One look at his glass and you'd think so. Two looks, though...

He was stone cold sober.

You swallow, staring up into his face. Bruce doesn't back away. Questions begin to form on your tongue... destructive ones.

How do you know? How did you find out? What are you going to do about it?

Your stomach drops as you think, surely, there's quite a bit he can do about it. If he wanted to. If you made the wrong move.

His eyes narrow on you, "You look sick. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'd like to go home."

Bruce blinks, shrinks in on himself a bit, "Okay."

"I... I drove."

Bruce nods, holds a hand up to one of the suited men near the edge of the room, and turns to you, "My driver. He'll take you home."

"My... my car. I have work in the morning." You mumble pathetically.

Bruce says something to the driver when he gets close. Another man is summoned, appearing by your side in an instant. This one holds out his hand to you and it takes you a second to realize what he's asking for. You fish your keys out and drop them in his waiting palm.

It's incredibly awkward as Bruce walks you out. You think he'll stop at the front door, or the elevator, or even the lobby, but he walks you all the way to the back door of his ride and—God—even holds it open for you.

You settle in to the nice seats, blinking up at him through eyes you fight to keep dry. You wonder if Bruce would forgive you for throwing up in his car instead. "If it's any consolation," he begins, leaning on the roof of the car. You can still hear the bustle of Gotham all around you, but when he looks at you... there might as well be only him and you, "I agree with you. Councilman Roberts is a jackass."

Your boss is looking at you, expectantly. Still waiting.

"I'm sure she's thinking about it." Is your curt reply. "Is that it? I really gotta go."

Your boss deflates, but otherwise doesn't keep you.

"How can I help you?"

The cop behind the desk seems nice enough. He doesn't smile at you but his tone is pleasant, unhurried. It helps calm your nerves. "Hi. I'm looking for someone. A detective who used to work here."

"You remember their name?"

"Detective Joey Russo," you offer, watching the cop begin to type into his computer, "he retired seven years ago. I wanted to know if you could get me in touch with him. A number or a... address."

"Ah, Russo. I remember him. I'm sorry, may I ask who you are?" You give your name and the cop frowns. "You got a badge? Unless you're with the state, I can't give you anything."

You'd worried as much, "He worked a case of mine 17 years ago. Something new's popped up and I just wanted to talk to him about it."

"If it's about a case we covered, you'd have to talk to one of us about it unless he's directly involved, and even then it'd be a process." He must notice how your face falls because his own softens, "I'm real sorry. I can get you in with someone else."

You know you shouldn't be upset. After all, he was only doing his job. If they gave out personal information to every person who walked in off the street, you imagined they'd have a bigger problem with domestic terrorism than they already do.

It doesn't make it any less debilitating. Bruce Wayne had found him. That was the only way he could've gotten his hands on your file, surely. And Bruce Wayne had money, more than enough to get an ex-cop to talk.

You're thanking the man and trying not to sound as distressed as you feel when you turn and catch new eyes.

You'd only seen Batman at night, tucked into the corners of shadow of your apartment, but here he was in broad daylight—midday—standing next to a plainclothes cop who had yet to realize the vigilante was no longer listening to him. You're so relieved to see him that you actually break out into a smile.

Batman doesn't return it. Without acknowledging his partner, he stomps across the room to you, cutting off your greeting with a rushed, "Did something happen?"

You blink, unable to answer when the cop from before sidles up next to the two of you. He's got a warm, friendly look to him, even if his eyes are narrowed at the pair of you with skepticism, "You two know each other?" He asks. When Batman refuses to tear his eyes from you, the cop addresses you directly, reluctant to extend his hand without confirmation that you were friend, not foe, "Detective James Gordon. And you are?" You give your name and his eyes light up. "Hey. I know you, don't I?"

"The hostage at Gotham General," Bruce answers for him, not even bothering to glance at the detective, "they were on the news."

"You three mind moving somewhere else? The freak's making people uncomfortable." The kind cop from before has dropped all pretense now, glaring at the vigilante who, still, pays no one but you mind.

Gordon grumbles and motions for you both to follow him down a long hallway out of sight.

You struggle to keep up when the detective starts walking, much faster than he looked, and so you all but yelp when the Bat places a hand on your lower back and guides you in front of him.

A turn or two later, you empty out beside a window at the end of another long hallway, far enough away from prying eyes that the detective seems to find it sufficient.

"What are you doing here?" Batman asks immediately.

"I was looking for someone but, actually, now that you're here, I was wondering if I could talk to you." You look over at Gordon, "If you're not busy."

The detective grunts but holds his hands up in surrender, slinking down the hall out of earshot, "I'm gonna go smoke, but I need him back in ten."

When he's far enough away, Batman speaks, voice at a much lower volume than before, "What's wrong?"

"I'm looking for a cop. I need to get in touch with him but he retired and they won't tell me where I can find him."

The Bat's head tilts to the side. You can tell the gears in his brain are turning, "Who?"

"Detective Joey Russo." The Bat freezes. "Do you know him?"

He doesn't answer that, something you take note of with a funny feeling in your chest, "Why are you looking for him?"

It's your turn not to answer. You should've known he wouldn't just tell you without good reason, but your throat closes up when you think about how you'll explain it. It wasn't that you didn't trust him... but... "It's personal. Please."

"That's not enough."

"I know... I know. And I wouldn't be asking this of you if it wasn't important-"

"Then tell me why."

"I can't. But it is important. To me. I promise, it's for good reason."

"A good reason that you can't tell me? That's not enough. That's not how I work. God forbid someone finds out I gave you classified information."

"If I told you why I needed it—if I told anyone why I needed it—it would defeat the whole purpose!"

"That doesn't make you sound any more convincing."

"Batman, please," and your voice breaks as you step that much closer to him, your eyes rimming with tears you're terrified to shed, "I have never asked you for anything, have I? Not for money or your identity or anything. I am asking you for this one thing because I have no one else. You... are the only person who can help me. Please."

You see his face fall, so clear it feels like you can see right through him. Past the cowl and the facades and right into his very being. For a moment, you're just seeing the person and not the idea of him. You see your fears reflected back at you in his eyes, a deep understanding there that gives you some hope.

He draws a deep, heavy breath, and- "I'm sorry."

You're too stunned to watch him walk away.

Judith's apartment has a lack of technology and an abundance of crucifixes. The first time you'd seen it, you'd thought it was overkill. Now, since you've visited enough, it was comforting in its own creepy way. A blast into the past, memories of a grandmother who was never really your grandmother.

She startles at the stove where she's just put something in the oven, "Oh! Dear, I didn't hear you come in. Is everything alright?"

You smile and kick your shoes off by the key-holder, "I knocked. You're supposed to have your hearing aid in."

She gives you a stern look, then smiles.

You can smell hibiscus tea in the air, her favorite. She'd gather handfuls of hibiscus and dry them out in the sun, and then she'd steep their petals in hot water until it turned a deep pink. The taste was always striking, tart and strong, but she'd sweeten it with honey for you and then it wouldn't be so bad.

Without asking, she waddles over to her breakfast table where you've already found your seat and pours you a steaming cup of tea. You take the honey she's brought with her and begin to stir. "You never answered my question." Judith reminds you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, "I'm just taking a break from work, is all. Do I need to be having a bad day to visit you?"

"No, I suppose not," she sighs, taking the seat across from you, "but you do look a wreck."

You grumble. You hadn't looked in the mirror. You hadn't done anything but busy yourself in hopes that it would stave off the wave of anxious tears threatening to fall. You busied yourself until your hands started shaking and people started asking questions. And now you were here.

"Yeah. I'm sure I do. Work's... been hard."

"And besides work?"

"I don't know. I don't really have a life outside of work anymore."

Judith frowns, "You should really make some friends, dear."

That gets you to laugh. "I have friends! I have you. Are you not my friend?"

You could see the question already brewing, the narrow of her eyes as she watched you begin to fidget, "And that demon? Is he still hanging around you?"

You cast your gaze to the tabletop, "...I don't think we'll be seeing him around anymore."

"Oh?" You don't miss the hope in Judith's voice, "Did the police finally arrest him?"

"No. I think I may have... scared him off."

She doesn't respond for a while, even though you can tell from the shift in the air that she's rather pleased with this development. It makes you feel sicker to the stomach. "It might be for the best, dear," you can tell that she's being careful, minding your upset, "he's dangerous. It's best you stick to the light for now." When you don't respond, her leathery hand clasps over yours and forces you to look her in the eye, "Come with me to service this week. I've been telling everyone about you."

You snort, "About me and the demon I'm friends with?"

Judith shakes her head furiously, as if the accusation that she might have spilled your secret greatly insulted her, "They have been praying for you ever since the night at the hospital. They'd really like to see you in person one of these days. I never shut up about how proud I am of you."

Even through the despair, you feel the warmth of Judith's love. It makes you hold her hand back, gripping so tightly that you fear she may be too fragile to handle it. She doesn't seem to mind.

You two share the rest of your tea in relative silence, taking breaks to comment on the neighbors or the news or the weather (which never really changes outside of summer, but you always have something to say with her).

After a refill or two, you feel the dread begin to creep in.

"Dear, come here," Judith calls as you button up your coat at the door, "bow your head."

You frown but do as you're told. In a blink, you feel her finger swipe across your forehead in a quick motion. The familiar scent of cinnamon and myrrh hit your senses right after. You reach up to touch it but Judith captures your hand in her own. In her other is a small vial, unmarked, filled halfway with oil. "To protect you," she says, nodding gravely, "God will watch over you. You are blessed."

You want to tell her that the anointing does nothing for the stones gathering in your stomach, that the moment you walk out of this door you will be hit with a wave so sudden that you will surely drown. But you'd be lying if you said this little woman with her God and prayers didn't make you feel, even for a fraction of a second, safe. You kiss her cheek goodbye.

It's desperate, you know that. You spend the whole evening hating yourself as you pace the hardwood floors, thumbing over buttons and weighing the pros and cons.

"For emergencies only", but this was an emergency to you. It felt like one, the way it gnawed at your very center demanding blood. Every minute dreading that you'd have to see him again and pretend like you had no idea that he knew that you... You'd also spent part of the evening bent over the toilet.

At some point, you throw yourself onto your fire escape for fresh air and nearly throw the phone across the way just to breathe.

You know you've screwed up. The tentative threads of your friendship with the Bat had surely been severed. What had gotten into you, asking him for such a bold favor without anything to offer in return? You'd already given him your hands and your mind, the two things that you'd worked so hard to hone, and you would never think of taking them away.

But maybe that would be inevitable. Maybe you'd lose your license if this got out. And it wouldn't just be you carrying that burden. Every single one of you would be dug up and exposed to the world, and with Bruce Wayne involved, you couldn't imagine the lawsuits. You just couldn't. They could put you under the prison with his kind of money.

And the cops didn't even know everything.

You gasp, sob, and wrench yourself from the railing. You clench the phone tight.

Even if you could get to Russo, and even if he admitted that he gave you up, what good would it do? Bruce had already seen it. He probably had a contact at the DA's office on speed dial. You'd seen what money could do to men like him in this city. What it made men like him do to people like you. The echoes of the accusations against his father a year ago still rang in the wind, and his efforts to make up for it all would never truly make that go away. A criminal record was just as much currency as anything else. He would undeniably own you.

Somewhere between your panicking thoughts, you hear the grates of the fire escape tremor from above. You whip your head up and see a dark shape hovering a floor up. Swiftly, it descends the stairs until your eyes adjust. Your heart catches in your throat as you choke out his name.

The strangled noise causes him to pause when he turns to you. You clear your throat, "Are you hurt?" Batman's head tilts to the side. His eyes flicker from the phone in your hand and back to you. "I'm... I wanted to see you."

His shoulders stiffen. He almost looks like he didn't mean to come. A sliver of you had actually hoped he'd changed his mind, too. "I know it wasn't fair of me to ask something like that of you with no explanation. And I'm sorry. I want you to know that."

He waits, head still tilted.

You bite your tongue, tasting the blood beginning to pool on the surface.

You could tell him. Lay it all bare. And he could drop you at the GCPD without another word.

Or he could accept you. See the you that stands before him now, who had been years clean and had saved his life on your living room floor and confessed that he was why you were a better person now.

That's what friends did. Were you and the Batman friends?

Were you and Batman... anything?

"I wasn't always like this," your head throbs as you force yourself to keep talking, clenching the railing behind you with one hand, "I'm sure it's no surprise to you that I didn't just waltz through life completely innocent for thirty-something years, given where I come from. I wasn't a very good person when I was younger... and I did things I'm not proud of. And, by the grace of a very good man, a very small group of people know the true extent of that.

"But recently, I found out that someone who shouldn't know... does. And they could ruin my life if they used it against me. So I need to talk to Russo, because I need to know if he broke his promise, and then... God knows what else. I don't know. I haven't thought any further than that."

Something substantial but unclear, and if Batman were to go digging officially and find out the rest, at least you'd know Russo was the snitch.

But your heart still clenches in your chest. It feels like you are all made up of open wounds and they're all gushing blood as he watches, saying nothing. If you had really told him the truth, you imagined it would feel akin to spontaneous combustion. God, would you even be able to utter the words? It'd been so long since you'd last said-

Batman takes a slow step toward you, and the open wounds seal up at once. You are frozen.

Another, and another, until you are caged there against the railing, awaiting his verdict. Judge, jury, and... "And if he didn't? If it wasn't him that sold you out?"

You'd briefly considered that. Your friends, who were really more ghosts now than friends, had no reason to expose themselves. They'd gotten off just as easily as you did. Most of them were living lives on the other side of the country now, far, far removed from the history you shared together. Only you remained.

And who would even think to go looking into them? Outside of your history together, now sealed up and locked away, no one would look for them unless they knew what happened already.

Which only left one other option. "Then someone did—someone very close to Bruce Wayne, and there's nothing I can fucking do about it."

Batman stares at you for a while. You don't have a clue what he's looking for. "If I take you to Russo," you gasp, and he hurries his words out before you can say anything else, "it'll be the last time anything like this ever happens again. We go, we ask, and that's it."

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you."

"And I wasn't lying to you."

"What?"

"About Wayne. When you asked me if he was corrupt." You watch his eyes waver on you, eventually falling to the grates beneath your feet, and you're dumbstruck by the shift in his tone. "I never lied to you."

"I... I didn't think you had." He looks at you again. "But there are things that maybe we don't know about him," and as you speak, you place a hand on his arm, feeling it go rigid even beneath the suit, "I mean, he's a Wayne. They're older than this city. And you've seen firsthand the kind of reach people with that kind of money have. He can smile and wave and support as many good causes as he wants, but that could all be smoke and mirrors."

"You really don't trust him, do you?"

You sigh. You could almost hear Emily asking the same thing. But Emily would be smiling, and Batman is grave. Almost... disappointed. Your frown strengthens, "He's got a lot of secrets."

"So do I."

"Yeah, but you also saved my life," you chuckle, "if Wayne pushes me out of the way of a moving car, I might reconsider my stance on him."

The Bat squints at you. To your relief, you notice a bit of mirth in his voice, "No. You wouldn't."

"Listen, I am really grateful that you're doing this for me. And I wanted to say that after today, the thought of scaring you away scared me. And I would really, really like it if you could trust me. I don't want you to think that I'm taking this for granted. I'm not asking for you to take off your mask or bare your soul or anything. I just want you to know that-"

"I gave you this," the hand holding your burner is scooped up in his, held between the two of you, "because I trust you. I keep coming back because... I like... this. It's different. And I don't trust easily. If you believe me on anything, believe me on that."

A bit of your dread is chased away, and your hero is standing in the wake. Bruce Wayne is far away from this moment. He can't stain it. You won't let him. "You wanna come in for coffee?"

At that exact moment, your doorbell rings.

You see Batman jolt backwards and reflexively reach for him, using what strength you have to keep him from escaping. He watches you, wide-eyed, as you cling to his side, "Wait, wait. I wasn't expecting anybody. I'll send them off. It'll be quick."

He turns his head to the door. "You weren't expecting anyone?"

You shake your head. He shucks away your grip as he climbs through the window and takes a few, long strides to the door. He has to bend to look through your peephole, and you rush to catch up to him. After a long moment, he peers at you from the corner of his eye, "It's an old lady."

Judith. The doorbell rings again. "My neighbor. She's harmless, I'll handle it."

You expect him to walk off, find somewhere else to hide from sight, but he backs up behind the door and waits, nodding to you. Well, he was out of sight.

The door opens. The concerned look on Judith's face melts as soon as she sees you there, and holds out a pan wrapped in tinfoil, "Oh, there you are, dear. I made too much casserole so I came to give you the rest. Just in case you haven't had dinner yet."

You beam at her, taking the dish out of her hands, "Thanks, Judith. That's really sweet of you."

She returns a modest smile, but it falls away a second later. You follow her gaze past your shoulder and into the living room where- shit. "It's winter." Her brows furrow, "You'll catch cold if you keep your window open all night."

"Right! I was just... looking out over the city. Taking a breather. You caught me in the middle of it."

She presses the back of her hand to your arm and you note the very stark difference in her body temperature to yours. She frowns hard, stepping closer to you in order to whisper, "Has that demon come to see you again?"

You can't see him from where you're holding the door open, though it's your instinct to glance, but you feel yourself warming up pretty quickly, "He's not a demon, Judith."

No matter how often you repeat it, it goes in one hearing aid and out the other, "Then why does he have horns-"

"Judith, I'm fine, I swear. Even if... he did come visit, I would be fine. He wouldn't hurt me. As I've told you before."

She stares at your window, looking for little goblins with pointed tails and pitchforks no doubt. But as the curtains blow this way and that and no shadows make themselves clear, she is forced to take your word for it. "Alright," she relents, and you try not to visibly deflate, "enjoy the casserole, dear. Keep the window shut."

You watch her waddle all the way down the hallway, smile every time she glances back at you, and wait until you can no longer hear her kitten heels click-clack-clicking on the stairway down. You immediately shut the door and drop your head against it with a dull thud.

A few moments pass. You can feel him still next to you. Even worse, you can feel him trying not to laugh. "She thinks I'm a demon?"

You stand up and shove the casserole into his hands, only a little taken aback by the smile on his face when you do, "You're going to eat this casserole and then you're gonna tell that woman you're a God-fearing man and it tasted fucking delicious."

a/n: there's a scene I'm really excited to write for next chapter if it's gonna go the way I plan for it to go :)

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

bully me - chapter three

pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader word count: 3762 warnings: angst, smut, explicit language, bully kook, daddy dom kook, dub-con, degradation kink, choking, breathplay, spanking, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, dirty talk, dacryphilia, car sex, reverse cowgirl series masterlist A/N: Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

On the way to your next class you kept glancing around, trying to see if you could find Jungkook since he had left you in the boys' bathroom with only your phone and water bottle, taking your bag, and thus pretty much your everything, to God knows wherever the hell he had went.

You caught other students staring at you, no doubt seeing the mark on your neck, but you did your best to ignore the pity they sent your way. You did, however, wonder if they thought that your bully had choked you, just not the way it had actually happened.

Unfortunately, by the time you reached the door to the classroom, he was still nowhere in sight. You started to panic a little, Jungkook had pretty much stolen your belongings, was God knows where with them, and you still had two hours left before school was over, how were you going to manage?

But then you remembered, he had used your phone to get your number, so technically you had his as well. You unlocked your phone and tapped the call history, only to find that the last call had been made six days ago, to one of your parents. He had deleted his number from the call history.

"Of course he did," you groaned, your voice still hoarse.

When you heard the bell ring you entered the class, your head hanging low and with a need to start crying.

Despite how miserable Jungkook made your school life be, he never interfered a lot with your studies, other than ripping to shreds your papers, something that was still very appreciated on your part, because it still gave you a chance to strive under all the hardship with passable grades, for you wanted more than to graduate and leave this place behind without ever looking back.

You, and all the other students, took your respectful seats, of which you winced due to the many spanks you had received, but you couldn't exactly be standing without causing suspension so you had to suck it up, and patiently waited, for the moment there were the only two people missing - Jungkook and the teacher - would show up.

Five minutes passed, in which you had spent on google trying to find a to heal your bruised neck, when the students heard the door being opened, Jungkook walked in first, talking cheerfully to the figure behind him, who you assumed to be new since you've never seen him before.

He looked awfully young for a teacher, making you believe that there wasn't a big age difference between you and him.

"Good day class, my name is Mr. Kim and I'll be substituting for Mrs. Lang since she had to leave due to a family emergency," he said while arranging his things on the teacher's desk, not really paying attention to the students, meanwhile your bully was standing by the desk, not really doing much of anything. "Due to being so last minute I haven't had a chance to memorize myself with the class subject, so because of that Mr. Jeon here," he gave Jungkook a shoulder tap. "Suggested we could watch a movie," the words caused the entire class, except for you, to start excitedly whispering to each other, because, let's be real, it doesn't matter what you are watching, it's better than sitting in class, even if more than half of the students would ignore the movie and focus on their phones.

As the substitute teacher booted up the computer Jungkook started walking towards his desk, pausing when he reached yours. He stared at you for a couple of seconds before turning to give a quick glance at the professor from over his shoulder, who was now inserting the DVD, and then grabbing your arm, pulling you up and dragging you to sit next to him at the back of the classroom, barely giving you any time to grab your phone and water bottle.

None of the rest of the students said anything about it, you had even caught some adverting their eyes from you. However, you did feel a pair of eyes on you, making you wonder if Mr. Kim had seen everything, and if he had, why he hadn't said anything.

As you took your seat you felt incredibly awkward and anxious about your current situation. This was the first time you were seated next to Jungkook since middle school, back when boys and girls making fun of each other was so common that the school staff only intervened when actual fights broke down, and even then, it hadn't been by your choice but by the teacher's.

Just from today's interactions with him, you knew that being seated next to him was due to him having an ulterior motive, but as the teacher turned on the projector and the image of a black screen started to show on the blackboard, you decided to push your thoughts to the back of your mind, wanting to believe that since he had been the one to pick, that he would actually pay attention to it instead of you.

You were also curious about what movie he had picked, but unlike his intentions, that one didn't leave you on the brink of a panic attack.

Mr. Kim pressed play, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the chair. You, on the other hand, stood up straighter in your seat, and as the old DreamWorks logo started showing and the old familiar tune started playing, your eyes widen, feeling a little bewildered that Jungkook had picked this one out of so many.

You leaned closer to him, still keeping your eyes on the screen. "You picked Shrek?" you whispered in order to not disturb anyone, even if they were all on their phones.

The reason why you were so confused by his choice was because Shrek was your go-to movie whenever you needed a pick-me-up, something that only the close group of friends you had in middle school knew, and as far as you remembered, none of them talked with him. Had one of your then friends told him about it? Had he overheard the conversation? Was it just a massive coincidence?

You couldn't stop these thoughts from circling around your brain. You wanted to know the reason but you couldn't be too obvious, since you knew that, if you were, he won't tell you just so he could see you squirm.

Jungkook hummed at your question, leaning against his chair and keeping his eyes on the movie. "He wanted to pick Romeo and Juliet because," he cleared his throat. "It makes sense considering the class," he did his best impression of Mr. Kim which manages to get a quiet giggle out of you. At the sound of your laugh, Jungkook turned to glance at you, his eyes wide with a bit of shock, before turning back to the movie and letting out a laugh of his own, letting you catch a glimpse of his bunny smile.

"How did you do it?"

"Honestly?" he scratched the back of his head. "I just said a bunch of bullshit," both of you chuckle again. "I don't know if I did convince him, or if he just got tired and gave up."

While it was nice to have a decent conversation with Jungkook, after everything the two of you had been through just today, it still didn't answer your question. "Okay, but why Shrek though? You could've picked any movie,"

He looked at you again, this time there was something soft in his eyes, something you couldn't pinpoint, before he shrugged. "I don't know, just wanted a fun movie I guess,"

The conversation stopped after that, but while you were willing to drop the Shrek talk, there was still something you wanted an answer to. "Where's my bag?"

He smirked. "It's in my car, don't worry about it,"

"But we still have an hour to go after this one," there was an urgency in your voice. "Jungkook, I need my stuff."

"Calm down," he gave your knee a squeeze, keeping his eyes on the screen. "I'll give it back after class."

You decided to not press the issue further, knowing it would be useless to continue, so instead, you decided to focus on the movie. Jungkook's hand remained on your knee, something you didn't give much thought to because nothing happen.

It isn't until the scene where Shrek and Donkey enter the dragon's keep that his hand starts to move, going as slowly as possible up your thigh, stopping once the tips of his fingers could graze your panties.

Your breathing changed, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage, making you feel the familiar pang between your legs, wanting to rub your thighs together but he wasn't letting you, and by extension, making an even bigger mess of your underwear, your wetness combining with the cum that had been escaping from you since walking out of the boys' bathroom.

But it wasn't until Shrek and Donkey's talk after rescuing Fiona that Jungkook actually started doing something.

His index and middle finger started rubbing you through your panties, making you clench your fists and bit your bruised lip, in order to contain the noise. "J-jungkook,"

"Be quiet," he said in an authoritative tone, keeping his eyes on the movie while his fingers rubbed your clothed slit before pushing your underwear to the side and inserting two fingers into you, making you bite down harder on your bottom lip and reopening the wound, pumping them slowly. Jungkook leaned closer and whispered in your ear. "You wouldn't want everyone to know of much of a slut you are, right?"

You shook your head, knowing that if you opened your mouth, it would be words coming out.

He smirked as his thrusts became faster and rougher, alternating between thrusting and curling them with precision against your sweet spot.

The feeling was so overwhelming that you laid your head on the table, hoping that, at least, on the off-chance that you let out a noise, people would just assume that you were feeling unwell.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as he kept scissoring you at a fast pace, you felt so close that you could almost taste your high. Jungkook inserted a third finger into your cunt, his thrusts becoming even faster.

You saw drops of blood falling into the table due to how much you were biting your bottom lip, the closer you got to breaking apart the more you felt like you couldn't breathe. "D-Daddy, p-please," you begged, not being able to hold off for much longer.

Your bully's thumb started rubbing circles on your clit, in turn, you started moving your hips in tune with his hand. Every once in a while you'd look at him from the corner of your eye, noticing that he kept his eyes on the screen but that he had the biggest cheshire grin on his lips.

Jungkook leaned to whisper in your ear. "Cum for me, cum all over daddy's fingers," with a couple more thrusts your knot finally broke and you reached your high, releasing all over his hand.

You let out a loud gasp, finally feeling like the air was filling your lungs, no doubt turning a couple of people to stare in your direction, in retaliation Jungkook pinched your clit, making you whimper in turn.

"I told you to be quiet," he growled with clenched teeth as the pace of his fingers started to slow down. He, however, didn't pull out, prolonging your high until it turned into overstimulation, making you let out another whimper. "Stupid bitch."

"P-please," you begged, not being able to handle anymore. "J-jungkook p-please, s-stop."

At your words he stopped and pulled his fingers out, licking the wetness of his fingers as quickly as he could, wiping the saliva off on his pants, and then running those same fingers through your hair.

Although surprised by his actions, you still welcome them, feeling yourself relax little by little as your breathing started to slow down.

Once he felt that you were relaxed enough, Jungkook grabbed your water bottle and stood up from his seat, loudly claiming that he would be right back and then walking out of the classroom.

The whispers started immediately after, everybody wanting to know about what had happened and why Jungkook was acting the way that he was, some of them even suggesting that he had hurt you and was only playing nice to trick the teacher.

You turned to look at the professor and found him absorbed in the movie and turning out the gossip, and you decided to follow Mr. Kim's example. Only you and your bully knew the truth, and you wanted it to remain that way.

It wasn't long before he returned, taking his seat and handing you back the now full water bottle, giving you also a sugar packet. "Put the sugar under your tongue and then drink," he said in a tone you haven't heard from him before.

There was something sweet, and a hint of concern for you, in it.

You did as told, drinking until the bottle was half empty, feeling slightly better afterward.

You crossed your arms over the table, lying your head on top of them and paying attention to the movie, choosing to keep quiet. On his part, Jungkook also remained in silence, keeping his arms to himself by crossing them over his chest, but every once in a while you could feel his eyes on you.

When the screen shows the protagonists arriving near Duloc, the substitute teacher pauses the movie, saying that since there are only five minutes before the bell rings that he's letting the students leave class earlier, almost everyone immediately standing up and going out the door before the phrase was finished.

"Mr. Jeon, would you mind behind for a couple more minutes?" Mr. Kim said as he packed his belongings, pulling the DVD out of the computer and turning it off.

Instead of answering the adult in the room, Jungkook turned to look at you. "Do you know what my car looks like?" you nodded. "Wait for me there okay?"

You nodded again as you headed towards the door as your bully went to stand by the teacher's desk. As you were walking out you could've sworn that you had heard Jungkook say 'hyung' but you decided to shrug it off, since it wasn't any of your business, and walked to the carpark, phone and bottle in hand while ignoring all of your classmates' eyes on you.

Arriving outside you let out a deep breath, taking a moment to let the slight breeze cover you like a blanket.

As you walked toward Jungkook's mercedes benz gt63s, your thoughts went back to what had happened in the classroom.

You didn't understand why you had reacted to the overstimulation the way you did, considering that, Jungkook did a lot worse to your body during the previous recesses. The difference between the two was the free period between sessions, the first time there was an hour for your body to rest, the second time was less.

But when comparing what he had done to you in the bathrooms to what he did in the classroom, fingering you seemed like nothing. You couldn't fathom why you had reacted the way you did, other than chalking it up to just a bad reaction.

When you got close to the car you could see your bag in the backseat, but since Jungkook hadn't given you the key, you didn't have much of a choice other than to lean against the mercedes and wait for him.

You don't know for how long you wait, having decided to ignore the phone in your hand and opting instead for watching people interact with one another, finding it to be a good distraction.

It wasn't long before Jungkook came out of the building, disregarding your presence for the sake of opening the backdoor on the left side of the car.

"Get in," he said opening the door on the backseat, closing it once you had gotten in. He went around the car and got inside from the right, taking a seat next to you but still creating a small space between the both of you.

He tossed your bag to the passenger seat and leaned against the cushion, throwing his head back and releasing a deep sigh. "You okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine,"

Jungkook rubbed his hands on his thighs, avoiding looking at you. "What happened?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "It never happen before."

Your bully nodded at your words, keeping his eyes on the car's ceiling, you leaned your head against the cushion keeping your eyes on him, letting silence fill the air around you.

After a couple of minutes, he turned to look at you, his eyes going darker the more they stayed on you, before taking a hold of your arm, pulling you up and making you sit on his lap, settling both of his hands on your hips and hiding his face on your neck.

His left hand slid up to your neck while his right one slid down until it reached your clothed center, pulling your panties to the side and rubbing your slit.

You threw your head backward when he inserted two fingers inside you, freely letting out soft moans with each thrust of his digits into you, your hips moving in tune with his hand, making you grind against his now half-mast length.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as he curled them with precision against your sweet spot. "D-Daddy," your right hand moved towards his thigh, nails digging into the flesh. "D-Daddy p-please."

Jungkook chuckled darkly, pulling the hand away from your neck and moving it between your bodies, pulling his cock out of its confinements and stroking it to full mast. "Get up,"

You replaced his hand in pulling your underwear to the side, his right hand lifting your skirt as his left pulled you back towards him. You slowly sank down on his length, before you heard Jungkook let out a tsk and forced you down, making you bite your bruised lip at the burn of the stretch as took all of him in one go.

"You should be used to daddy's cock by now," the hand that had previously been on your skirt crawled up your body, fondling both of your tits before settling on your neck. You rolled your hips, the feeling of his throbbing cock against your walls begging you to move. "You should also be used to following orders," the hand on your waist moving to slap your clit before returning to its place, making you let out a gasp, his breath fanning in your ear. "You really are stupid aren't you?" the hand on your neck gave it a squeeze as your bully chuckled darkly.

Both of you stayed like that for a while, each passing second leaving you on the verge of tears of frustration, not being helped by his occasionally twitching length.

"Such a good little slut," you whined at the words. "Do you want daddy to move?" you could hear the smirk in his words but still nodded rapidly, not knowing of much longer you could take. Jungkook pulled his hands away from you, settling his arms on the back of the seat. "Do it then," you look at him over your shoulder, his eyes dark with lust and his cheshire grin growing wider.

"Jump," he growled, and immediately you started to move, bouncing up and down on his cock.

Your hands were on his knees, helping you with the movements, his length rubbing against your walls and hitting your cervix with each thrust.

Jungkook threw his head back, letting out a groan at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. "You take daddy's cock so well, such a good little slut,"

"D-Daddy," you moaned out, your legs growing weaker.

"What's wrong cunt?" his hands move to settle on your hips. "Can't fuck yourself on daddy's cock?" you whined, the pain on your legs slowing down your movements. "So fucking useless."

He gripped tightly onto your waist and started trusting upwards, his animalistic pace causing you to throw your head back, settling it on his shoulder as you let out moan after moan of his title.

His pace didn't falter even as one of his hands left your hip and went to your neck, squeezing it tightly while the one on your waist dug his nails into the flesh. "So good to me,"

"D-Daddy, I-I'm gonna," you felt a sudden sting on your ass, making you let out a yell.

"Not yet bitch," he jackhammered into you, his rough and fast pace faltering as he felt himself close to the edge. "Ah f-fuck, such a good pussy, made just for me."

With a couple more thrusts Jungkook reached his high and painted your walls with his hot release, triggering your own.

Both of you stood still as you worked on catching your breaths, but it wasn't long before you felt his hand grip your hair and pull you closer to him, his breath fanning in your ear. "Did I say you could cum?" he pulled at your hair again, making you let out a yelp at the pain. "Answer me bitch!"

"N-no," tears started streaming your face.

"Then why did you do it? Are you really that stupid that you can't follow simple orders?" he bit your ear. "Are you that much of a slut?"

You answered the only thing your blissful mind could think of. "I-I'm d-daddy's little cumslut,"

Jungkook tsked at your words, telling you that that wasn't what he wanted to hear. "Clearly I've been spoiling you," his face moved towards your neck, grazing it with his nose before biting into it, followed by him forcing you to face, making you wonder if you had cried due to the bite or due to the hair pulling. "I'll have to teach you some matters later."

Both of you stood facing each other for a couple more seconds before something overtook Jungkook's eyes, almost like he had had a sudden realization, and he let go of you, throwing you off of him and almost into the gear shift. "Leave,"

You pick up your bag and left the mercedes, you turn to look back at him before shaking your head and walking towards the school.

[betchanted]

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔 | 𝐡. 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

You and Haruchiyo made promises that day. Not even death could separate the two of you.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Mention of D*ath, +18 (nsfw)

Warnings: Bl**d, drugs, smut, self harm, k*lling.

Fem!Reader

1250 words.

Chapter Song: Icon for Hire - Sorry About Your Parents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

You jumped out of bed at the sound of the door opening. You carefully put the manga you borrowed from Mikey on the coffee table next to you. You were afraid to take this manga from him, but when Mikey forced it, you had nothing to do.

That incident was still on your mind.

"Mommy?" you asked when you entered the living room. But you were wrong. It was your father who came. Still, you were a little excited to see, your father too.

"It's me, not your mother." your father said as he rummaged through the empty vases instead of looking at you.

"Welcome Father." Then he slammed the drawers open. You didn't say anything even though it got on your nerves that he didn't turn it off.

"Hello Y/N." he said indifferently and ruffled her hair as she left the salon. This little gesture of love made you smile.

"Are you looking for something father?" You said by going after him. Now he was in your room. He was rummaging through your notebooks, jewelry boxes, and drawers.

“Do you have the money?”

"What?"

"Did she leave money for you in the morning?”

You nod your head, that means yes. "Why father?"

Your father knelt right in front of you and patted your cheeks paternally. "How much did your mother give you?"

"About 4000 yen." You said quietly. You knew what would happen. You should have guessed from the first moment he walked into the house.

"Can you give me that money, dear? I promise I'll pay you double next week, what do you say?"

You didn't want to say anything. Because if your father came home, his only purpose was to take money. He received a fortnightly share of the money your mother earned by working nights. And like it wasn't enough, he was taking the money your mother left you too, saying that he would double it the next week.

You haven't seen his give back half that money, let alone double it.

"Isn't it a very profitable deal?" he continued.

You didn't have the luxury of saying no. But tomorrow you had to pay for school books.

"My mom left half of that money for my school fees. Tomorrow is the last day to pay for the textbooks." You said hoping she wouldn't get angry.

"I don't think anything will happen. Tell your teachers your mom didn't leave you any money, it's okay if you ask permission to bring it next week."

"But that's not true-"

"You're not lying for the first time in your life." He said and stood up. "Where's the money? Your father really needs it, dear Y/N."

You had nothing to say about it. Saying that you will give the money, you opened the small compartment in your school bag and handed all the money you took out to your father.

"Thanks, my beautiful daughter." He said and kissed your cheek. You didn't say anything even though you were disgusted. You were afraid your father would hit you. That's why you would never say no to him.

"I'm leaving. I'll be back soon, okay?" You didn't answer when he said it, you didn't even follow her to see him off. When you heard the door slam, you went into the living room and dialed one of the numbers you had memorized on your home phone.

You needed that money. On the second ring, the person on the other end finally picked up the phone.

"Hi." You said inside, cursing your father. He shouldn't have put you and your mother in this situation.

"Hello Y/N? Did something happen?" You were relieved when you heard your friend's voice saying.

"I'm going to ask you a favor. I'll be with you in a moment. Don't go anywhere." After saying that, you hung up the phone and ran to your room. You put on your clothes in no time, and after drinking a glass of water, you left the house. You put on your shoes and locked the door.

Why did your father put you in this situation instead of taking you to the park right now? Why didn't you have a father like the other kids have? You knew there were people worse off than you. But you were still a child. You were a kid who wanted his father and mother to come with him to the park.

It wouldn't be selfish to ask for so much you thought.

After walking through the dirty streets, you finally reached the front of the small warehouse. The warehouse was quite dirty, just like the street it was located on. Knowing that there was nothing you could do, you opened the door of the warehouse and entered. There was no use in embarrassment now. It was better to be embarrassed right now than to be embarrassed in front of your friends and teachers in class.

"Who the hell is there!" You were startled when you heard a shout. A boy your age stood in front of you in a way you didn't know where it came from.

"I was looking at Koko." You said in a timid voice. You knew not to mess with street punks. But It seemed like it was going to be a little tough when your best friends were the hooligans too.

The boy nodded to show he understood. He seemed to have news. "Go up those stairs."

You quickly made your way upstairs without making eye contact with the boy. This place was eerie and you wanted to go as soon as possible. It gave her goosebumps to remember her friends hanging out around here every day.

When you went upstairs, you entered one of the rooms and looked on a black-haired boy sitting on a red sofa.

"Koko?" You called out to the boy and he stood up with your voice. The moment you saw his face, you felt relieved.

"What are you doing here Y/N?" He asked with a little harshly. You knew he wasn't trying to be rude though. As the days passed, his demeanor became more and more stern. You're still friends after all, right? People change as they get older. No one would stay the same.

"I'm not trying to get straight to the point, but I need your help, Koko." You said while sitting where he pointed. Even if it was a little dirty, you tried not to problem. Now you were sitting opposite each other.

“I guess you need the money, don't you?” You nodded your head yes when he asked.

"I know I asked you last time too, but I have to pay for my schoolbooks tomorrow. I'll pay it back next week when my mom gives me pocket money."

Koko stood up. "It's okay, how much was it?"

"1500 yen is enough." You would only ask for the amount of your school fees. There was no need for the rest.

You were no longer surprised when he instantly took the money out of his pocket and handed it to you. Despite being the same age as you, what they did was incredible. The emotions he felt were also incredible.

"Thanks, Kokonoi. You never reject me."

"I said it's okay. Is it because of your father again?"

"Who else can it be!" You said with a angry voice. “The things my father does drive me crazy while my mother works day and night.”

"I hope your mother gets divorced soon." said Kokonoi, cursing your father with you. He was accompanying you as you descended the stairs.You never dared to tell your mother that, even though you thought about divorces most of the time. As you recall, they made happily married. You weren't sure right now if that love was still there though.

"By the way, Y/N, what's your mom job?" You shrugged when he asked.

"I don't know exactly. She works at night. Sometimes she goes abroad or something, I guess. She comes two days a week, leaves me money or something, checks my needs."

"But she's making a lot of money, isn't she?"

Your live in a good neighborhood. Since you've been alone for a long time, your mother decided to move to the neighborhood she think is safer. She had you enrolled in a private school. Your mother took care of all your needs, school fees, everything. But you see very little of her because of all this. Maybe if your father had done his part, you would have had more time with your mother.

"Yes, but you know my father. God knows what he spends that money on!"

Koko didn't want to answer that. Because his predictions weren't pretty. He didn't want to say it because he knew that these things didn't come to your mind.

"Y/N, I know your father is into your money. You never tell your father did, to your mother do you? It's okay to ask me for a loan, but you can't always find me."

"Yes Koko." You answered. You didn't understand what the boy was trying to say.

"Why don't you get a job? Even if it's a small job, you'll have some money you can hide from your father without his knowing it. At least until you tell your mother."

All sorts of thoughts filled your head with this new idea. The thing is, it was a really great idea. There was a lot of work for kids your age to do.

"This is actually a very thoughtful idea, Koko. Maybe I can get a job, even at a bookstore."

"Still, my advice is your mother get a divorce as soon as possible." You laughed when he said it. Even if you laugh, Koko was right. Yes, you might miss your father when you haven't seen him for a long time, but the moment you see him, this longing burns away.

"Isn't it dirty in here?" You asked when you came to the door of the warehouse.

"It is, but we manage." You smiled at him when he said that. Koko was a really close friend of yours. Whatever you needed, he never turned you down, always tried to help. Even though he's been through so much after what happened to Akane, he was still Koko sometimes.

“Thanks again, Kokonoi. If you need anything, please call.” When she said that, Koko nodded in agreement. After you said goodbye to her, you hurried home.

Along the way, you had in mind why people insisted on having children when they wouldn't care.

Why did the children suffer their sins?

They didn't ask them how they were born. It was unfair that they were born in a way they didn't want.

You thought that not everyone is created fair.

Absolutely no one is created equal.

Hello after a very long time! I hope you enjoyed our second part.

Bay Bay 💕

Such a pretty picture 🌸

[moonknightly]

Babes:

blowing up their phone and receiving no answers (this either being the reason behind the argument or just adding fuel to the fire)

Would love this prompt with any of the moon boys but Jake would be preferred I'm imagining...

Jake is blowing up reader's phone because he's worried...and she's not answering for whatever reason (busy or something). He's genuinely worried she might be in danger and oh boy...

Smut would be nice but not necessary. Do what you will with this <3 Love you babes and congrats on 5k!

Jake's not used to this feeling, the one of absolute terror and panic vibrating through his chest, cracking his ribs and making it harder and harder to breathe with each passing moment. He's not used to the way his hands tremble and shake, or the way sweat trickles down the back of his neck and soaks the collar of his shirt. It's unfamiliar, unwelcome.

He doesn't get anxiety. He's always confident, always so sure and stoic and proud.

But now he's fucking panicking because you haven't answered your phone all day, and you were supposed to be home four hours ago.

Terrible thoughts race through his head. Where could you be? What if you're hurt? What if someone hurt you?

He feels sick to his stomach as every possible scenario moves through his head. Someone could've cornered you in an alley, or pulled you into their car and now you could be in someone's basement while they think about doing God knows what to you and-

Jake closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying so so hard to calm his thoughts. They're not doing him any good.

No, if you're hurt he should be out there looking for you. He should be doing something other than waiting around the flat, waiting rather impatiently for your return that may or may not come at this point. He should be-

His thoughts are interrupted again but this time, it's not by his own doing. The sound of a key in the lock immediately catches his attention and he stands, fists clenched by his sides. You slip through the door and quickly close it behind you but he doesn't relax, doesn't let his hands return to normal, doesn't let his shoulders sag.

"Where the hell have you been?" he snaps before he can think better of it, his voice nearly a snarl, eyes on fire.

His anger shocks you, it's clear by the look on your face but it's not enough to get him to back down. Not really.

"Babe I'm so sorry, my phone died before I could tell you I had to stay late and I didn't have a charger and-"

"You couldn't have used your work phone?" he interrupts, taking a few steps closer. "Someone else's phone?"

"I don't have your number memorized honey. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you..."

Your words do nothing to comfort him. He's still panicking, his mind is still so so loud and not in the way he's used to, his anxiety so intense he's completely blocked off Marc and Steven.

"I thought you were hurt! I thought something bad happened to you. I thought...I thought-"

He can't finish his sentence. He can't breathe. He doesn't remember how and the feeling of claws digging into his skin from the inside out is still there and he feels like his knees are about to give out and-

"Sweetheart," you say, your voice gentle and soft. Your hands are suddenly on either side of his face, the feeling of your skin on his bringing just an ounce of relief and Jake finally feels like he can pull in another breath. "You're having a panic attack, okay? It's okay, you're okay. I'm right here, I've got you."

"I don't get panic attacks," he forces out between clenched teeth, snapping his eyes shut and willing himself to just calm down. Marc is the one who has panic attacks, and sometimes Steven gets them but never Jake. Never him.

You might as well be ignoring him.

"You're okay," you mumble again, moving one of your hands into his hair, running your fingers through his hair in that way you know he likes, nails scraping against his scalp. "It's okay."

The feeling of your nails slowly starts to ground him, slowly starts to bring him back to reality and breathing becomes easier. His chest starts to feel lighter and the sweat on his neck starts to dry. He's calming down. You're calming him down.

He's pushed from the front before he gets the chance to calmly rationalize his thoughts to you, Steven taking the reins when the emotions running through his body become even more confusing and overwhelming.

That's fine, he thinks. It gives him a chance to think about how he's going to punish you for not answering your phone the next time he has the body.

this is TRASH I'M SORRY

[icedmetaltea]

1, 6, 7, 9, 11, 14, 21, 28, 37 B, F, G For Allie (since you dont seem to have a DCA OC...yet) I COMMAND THEE (pls)

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do? - Gods maybe like 3 mins (UNLESS he's at home, in which case he kinda dissociates for hours and time "goes faster" (he needs therapy so bad)) 6. Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable? - Flexible 7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling? - He doesn't remember much of his childhood cause it was a not so good childhood. Aside from a warehouse him and his friends would hang out at and turned into a sort of playhouse, there isn't much memorable about the city he grew up in. It's nothing but a mess of city lights and numbed-out minds

9. Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word? - YES constantly, and probably not

11. How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)? - The latter lol

14, What animal do they fear most? - He's pretty spooked by pretty much any animal save for maybe cats and dogs since the city he's from doesn't have much if any and he's never been able to go outside of it (long story that even I haven't figured out yet)

21. Why do they get up in the morning? - Spite

28. Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? - Yes

37. Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)? - Nope, he saves everything in his phone more or less

Thank you! This was fun :>

edit:

B - What inspired you to create them? - My edgey teen phase ofc (/hj, most ocs were made after getting inspiration from dreams)

F - What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)? - Pity

G - What trait of theirs bothers you the most? - Their tendency to bottle things up till they explode

[v-anrouge]

Answer some or all, I want to know more about you 👀 that wasn’t the right emoji but oh well I’m using voice to text

Do you have freckles? 

 Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it? 

What was the last song you listened to? 

Do you sleep on your back, stomach or side? 

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? 

Do you prefer drawing or writing? 

What’s your ideal number of blankets to sleep with? 

What’s your favorite band/artist? 

When is your birthday? 

How tall are you? 

What color are your eyes? 

Who are five (or more) people you want to hug right now? 

Fears? 

What’s your favorite color? 

What’s your favorite season? 

Want any tattoos? What of? 

Want any piercings? Where? 

Who is the last person you texted? 

Do you have a best friend? How long have you been friends? 

What/who do you miss? 

How was your day today? 

How much sleep did you get last night? 

Do you believe in aliens? 

When was the last time you cried? Why? 

What’s your favorite decade? 

What are some seemingly childish things you like? 

What’s your favorite book? Or just one you’ve read a few times? 

How are you, really? 

Does it take you a long time to make decisions? 

What are you looking forward to in the near future? 

What are you looking forward to in the distant future? 

If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go? 

Do you sleep with your door open or closed? 

What’s your favorite flower? 

Do you currently have a squish? 

Do you like your middle name? 

Do you prefer dogs or cats? 

Do you have any phobias? 

Do you stay up late?

Do you like the beach? Do you prefer it sunny or cloudy? 

What’s your favorite cartoon? 

Tag 5 of your favorite blogs

Do you have siblings? How many? 

Who was the last person you said “I love you” to? 

Is there anyone you would die for? 

What do you need when you’re sad? 

Have you memorized your phone number? 

Who’s someone you can trust with your life? 

What does your last text say? 

Wild Card. Any question, ask away. 

1- actually yeah but theyre super super super light so u can barely see them

2- coffee, i hate tea. i drink it with milk and sugar

3- more KDA

4- side, shrimping

5- yes:3 rook vil and my childhood plush

6- drawing

7- one, and it has to be thin

8- DONT DO THID TO ME I CANT DECIDE

9- june 19

10- 5'3 💀

11- very dark brown

12- all my mooties

13- abandonment, forests, insects, worm like things, heaven, dogs

14- blue and purple

15- winter 100%

16- yes! maybe of a deer, not realistic tho

17- i want all my piercings back my mom made me take them off so now im only left w my bites and the cheek ones😔

18- my mother

19- my lesbian irl :3 like two years?

20- peace

21- okay-ish

22- like 4 or 5?

23- i don't care for them

24- like 1 hour ago, obey me 💀

25- i don't think there are decades to be celebrated humans are evil in all of them

26- cute things, children movies and cartoons, they make me happy

27- i haven't read in LONG because books in brazil are way more expensive than i can afford

28- okay i think

29- yes😭

30- getting a job that i actually like

31- moving with my irl

32- to my irl's house :3

33- locked shut

34- oleanders!

35- nope

36- HATE IT

37- CATSSS

38- insects, worm like things..i think that's it?

39- yeah💀

40- no, but also yes, i dislike beaches because in there's always those fucking sand dollars , i prefer it sunny because the water is cold

41- GUMBALL!!!

42- I CANT I DON'T WANT TO MAKE ANYONE SAD FOR NOT BEING HERE

43- two older brothers

44- my irl

45- my irl...

46- distract myself and talk to people i like (usually my irl)

47- no i havent 😭

48- my irl <3

49- it's a fight between me and my mom id rather not, sorry

50- I have absolutely no idea what to ask tbh😭 uhmm i guess id like to ask why so many ppl like me

[s-lycopersicum]

"i have some time" do you have PRIME NUMBERS time??? if not, you can do every 5th one

Emily, you are single-handedly increasing the hit count on the OEIS page for the prime numbers sequence!

2. Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it?

Coffee, every day! I have a moka pot I got a few years ago, apparently it makes six cups, but I drink a whole volume of it every morning. I prefer a dark roast, and take it with just a bit of sugar.

3. What was the last song you listened to? 

The last one was BROKEN GAMES - FZMZ! I like that it reminds me of moments in the Shangri-la Frontier opening.

5. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?

Not since I was a kid. Nowadays, I think I would be scared of harming it too much during sleep.

7. What’s your ideal number of blankets to sleep with?

One, but it has to be the right fabric! I don't like those light, silky ones, even though I live where the nights can be scalding hot.

11. What color are your eyes?

Normally, a dark brown, but they get a shinier orange in the sunlight.

13. Fears?

Oh, several. A bit too real though.

17. Want any piercings? Where?

Haven't... really.. thought about it. I guess they never interested me enough, not sure which kind I would like.

19. Do you have a best friend? How long have you been friends?

How do I tell which one is a best one? Or is it the best one?

23. Do you believe in aliens?

Small unicellular, perhaps multicellular life in this system. Definitely, 100%, they are out there. Larger "intelligent" lifeforms like humans, possibly with advanced technology? Don't think so.

29. Does it take you a long time to make decisions?

Surely, that depends on the decision. I picked between apartments where I would live in for 4 (turned into 6) years in 30 seconds. It took me a decade to pick (be given) a name in this website.

31. What are you looking forward to in the distant future?

There are some things I want to try once I'm living on my own again. The switch from living alone to living with family highlighted some aspects of solo life I didn't really appreciate before.

37. Do you prefer dogs or cats?

Nyanko.

41. What’s your favorite cartoon?

I'm going to skip the years of discussion and assume that anime are included, which means the answer is easy! Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. I binged it in two days when I was a kid and it changed my life.

43. Do you have siblings? How many?

I have one brother, five years younger.

47. Have you memorized your phone number?

Ahahaha, no. Not because I can't, mind you. I just don't wanna.

[hellofeanor]

Quick guide to accented letters and special characters

Hey Tolkien fandom, I've seen a couple posts and questions about this, so here's a quick guide to adding accented letters and other special characters for all those tricksy elf names when using an English keyboard.

ON A PHONE: Super simple. Select upper or lower case and then just press and hold the letter you want to accent, and a lil menu should pop up with options for that letter. Press a for á, â, ä and so on. Press t for þ and d for ð.

This works on both Android and iPhone, but the special character selection will vary by what keyboard you have installed. Some keyboards give more options than others. (In the image above, I'm using a Swype keyboard, and it gives me a bunch of stuff.) If your keyboard doesn't have what you need, try a different one.

ON A WINDOWS COMPUTER: Special characters can be entered by holding down the ALT key and typing a numeric code using your keyboard's number pad. The codes are in (mostly) numerical/alphabetical order, starting with upper case before moving to lower. So this means Á will have a lower number code than û. It also means that if you can't remember the exact code for the letter you need, you can just type numbers in sequence until you get what you want. I've only memorized a few, but from there, I can make educated guesses about where approximately I should start guessing for others.

Some common letters that come up in Tolkien's writing are:

Á = ALT 0193 É = ALT 0201 Ë = ALT 0203 Í = ALT 0205 Ñ = ALT 0209 Ó = ALT 0211 Ú = ALT 0218 á = ALT 0225 é = ALT 0233 ë = ALT 0235 í = ALT 0237 ó = ALT 0243 ú = ALT 0250 ð = ALT 0240 þ = ALT 0254

The ones I have memorized are á, ë, í, ó, and ú. If I can remember these ones, then when I need an â I know it's going to be somewhere around 0225, and I can try adjacent codes until I find it. (It's 0226). If you can't find the letter you're looking for, the Character Map app (search "character map" in Windows Explorer to bring this up) has this info and will let you copy/paste special characters into any program. If you use Word, the Insert Symbol function also does this.

CRITICAL NOTE: the ALT codes only work with the right side number pad. They will not work with the top number bar. Sorry, friends. If you have a laptop with no number pad, you SHOULD have numbers somewhere on the alpha keyboard that are accessible by hitting FN or something. As seen on this photo of my wee netbook from 2011. On this guy, I'd have to hold both FN and ALT and then type in the numeric code, meaning ë essentially becomes FN ALT mkli.

A secondary option on windows, if memorizing and entering codes is too much of a pain and you'd rather just always select the character you need, is to hold down the windows key and press . to bring up a menu of emojis and symbols. From the symbols menu (top ribbon), go to the subset of special characters (bottom ribbon). Clicking on the one you want will insert it into whatever you're typing. The frequently used (clock) subset on the bottom ribbon will save the ones you use for easy future access.

ON A MAC COMPUTER: Listen. I'm gonna be real with y'all. I haven't used a Mac since I was a kid and used to go over to my cousin's house to play math-based educational video games. You don't want me providing information on this topic because I am about as knowledgeable as a newt here. This post belongs to the internet now and if God wills it, somebody will reblog with instructions for Mac users.

[frenziedcrescendo]

re: Ask Game

41, 93, 47.

Sincerely,

⭐️Rainier⭐️

Woo!

41. last person you texted?

A mod in the guild (of a mmorpg I'm currently playing), who doesn't have any knowledge of excel functions and had been making contribution quota lists completely by hand. And by god I will stop them from doing this if it costs my life.

47. favorite type of cheese?

Mozzarella. Though with much shame I must admit I haven't eat any cheese of variants other than America cheese, mozzarella is the one type i distinctively remember enjoying.

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

Exactly 4. My own, my parents', and my current homeroom teacher's. Note that this isn't because I leave all the number memorization to the contact list, but because I don't have all that many friends to remember the numbers of.

[thebreakfastgenie]

with an invitation like that 🌹🌹

“You know what I’m asking.” “Yeah, I do. You’re supposed to ask me once a day. This is time number four.” “Yeah, well.” “What?” “You haven’t answered.” “I answered the first time.” “No, you didn’t.” “I was going to. The phone rang. You couldn’t put Belgium on hold.” “Sure I could’ve. I’m sure they have waffles to eat.”

Not a sentence but whateverrrr. This is from a fic about Josh having a bad day (cleverly titled "bad day") and being a pain about admitting it. Unfortunately at some point I just kind of started writing down dialogue so I wouldn't forget it, but the rest of the fic peters out and I haven't gotten around to filling in. This is Leo and Josh, here, and I just love "I'm sure they have waffles to eat" so much as a Leo line.

And just for you, a (couple of) bit(s) about CJ coping after the shooting. Kind of CJ+Josh centric because I'm me.

She’s been going out of her way to avoid his office. When she can’t, she keeps her eyes firmly affixed to the ground, or a file, or she walks with Carol and engages in conversation. She hates seeing it, dark and closed up. It feels like he’s dead.

She memorized everything the press said about her, that night. Shaken and withdrawn. She remembers how her voice caught when she told them about Josh. They can’t blame her for that, and hardly any of them do. She wonders what kind of person she’d be if she hadn’t.  She loves the press. She loves the work, even the extra work. She knew Josh worked hard, they all worked hard, but she’d never realized the sheer volume of what he did in a day until now. She looks forward to briefings. Danny tries to catch her eye, sometimes. She looks away. She doesn’t have time for him right now. 

[collectivenothingness]

Prime numbers be upon ye

Okay!

2. Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it? 

I am a tea main. I don't add sugar or milk. I like black and green teas, without any fruit or any other weird stuff.

When I do drink coffee, it should be a latte or something.

3. What was the last song you listened to? 

Still ユリイカ by ロクデナシ

5. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? 

Yeah, multiple even.

7. What’s your ideal number of blankets to sleep with? 

A single blanket is usually enough for me.

11. What color are your eyes? 

A dark brown? Lena might phrase it more poetically, idk.

13. Fears? 

Bugs, spiders, ... that kinda thing >.< Being secretly unlikable if we wanna go to that kind of fear.

17. Want any piercings? Where? 

Maybe I'll get my ears pierced one day... but overall I don't really feel a strong desire for piercings.

19. Do you have a best friend? How long have you been friends? 

The position is vacant atm.

23. Do you believe in aliens? 

I believe in extraterrestrial life but not in aliens visiting Earth.

29. Does it take you a long time to make decisions? 

It depends on a lot of factors but I do probably take longer than the average person most of the time.

31. What are you looking forward to in the distant future? 

Not having to worry about the future all the time anymore, hopefully.

37. Do you prefer dogs or cats? 

Cats.

41. What’s your favorite cartoon? 

I don't wanna play favorites >.< I haven't even watched that many in recent memory.

43. Do you have siblings? How many? 

Yes, one younger brother.

47. Have you memorized your phone number? 

No lol.

[i-am-all-lies]

Lost Butterfly

A story I wrote a while ago. TW: Child Abuse (in every sense).

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today, I decided to start walking. I haven't done it for a while, I don't know how to do it anymore. But it shouldn't be that hard, right? Just… left foot, right foot. Yes… left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, stumbling once, stumbling twice, I knew I was going to fall, but why is my knee hurting? Should I be falling when I'm already on the ground? My dad was wearing a necklace today, and a ring too! It's not Mom's ring, so I guess it's a new one. "Hey, *****." Dad called out to me. "Yes, Dad?" I said as I turned my head to the other side of the table, where his plate was, which had no more food on it, in contrast to mine, which was still full - not because I had more food - of course. "Get the wine," Dad ordered. I put my fork on my plate and got up to get the wine. With a turn of my head, I found the bottle, well, several bottles, but as they've been there for a while, I don't think they're the ones he asked for, so I took the one that looked fullest and approached him to deliver it. As I placed the bottle down, I felt the judgmental gaze that ran over every inch of my skin, bones, muscles, organs and mind, which only ended when a cough could be heard from Dad, who began to say: "You've gained a few kilos, haven't you? And that chest of yours is rather large for your age, don't you think?" I made my way to my seat while preparing an answer, at the same time trying to keep my skin dry: "Do I look like I've been eating too much? And what do you expect me to do about my chest? It's not something I have any control over..." he seemed rather displeased with the answer and made his usual snobbish comment which, by now, he has memorized, given the number of times he has repeated it; it's certainly something he rehearses in his room, "Well, you don't eat anything! You just spend the day in your room! You're really useless, you still manage to gain weight, it's a shame." Yes, a real shame, I couldn't agree more, Dad. Although this sarcasm doesn't get me anywhere in my mental space, it does help in the process of dealing with the situation. He hasn't touched my taste in music or anything I like so far, remarkable progress, I'd say. In response to his unpleasant comment, I simply sat in silence, eating the amount needed to get away from the table and back to my room.

A pleasant silence formed, the absence of the noise from the nearby street, the television that was turned off because Mum said it was "spoiling the family dinner experience", whatever that means, and, most importantly, Dad was silent. Peace was achieved, until Mom opened her mouth and announced that she had... I don't know what she said, since I had excused myself to go to the bathroom in order to ensure some fat loss, I'm sure that what Mom had to say wasn't really that interesting. I washed my hands and cleaned the toilet to avoid anyone noticing the traces of vomit, and went into the dining room to get the dishes and wash them in the kitchen. While I was doing the dishes, I heard the phone ring and my mother started talking to someone, who certainly wasn't my father, as the tone of his voice was much brighter and the content of the conversation was about her job, more specifically about how she was upset with the manager for promoting someone else instead of her, despite the fact that she had supposedly done a much better job than him, It's not that I'm particularly suspicious of my mother's claims about her performance, it's just that I hardly believe that she would be even remotely close to gaining a promotion in her "company", due to the simple fact that restaurants don't have promotions, and so I ignored the conversation in the living room and distracted myself with other thoughts, probably of less value than my mother's nonsense. That is, until these thoughts were interrupted by the solid grip I felt on my buttocks, large hands could be felt grabbing that part of my body, I don't remember this happening, so I had no reaction, looking to my right, I saw my father with a smile on his face, "Come to my room for the usual". I felt the souls of those who were waiting for me screaming inside me in agony. What is "the usual"? What's going on here? I stood there, paralyzed with a mixture of fear and... I don't know how to describe it, but it was unpleasant, that's a fact, a really horrible fact. If I had to say something close to that, it would be despair. That's right, despair. I can't prepare myself for what's to come next, is he going to hit me? Humiliate me? Kill me? I finished my work and went to Mom and Dad's room, as Dad had instructed. Every step on the stairs felt like a whole flight of stairs; should I run? Hide in my room and block the doors? No... There's no escaping the fate that lurks behind that door.

It must be what I want in the end, isn't it? I approached the door, the cold coursing through my body, anxiety coursing through my bloodstream as if it were a nutrient highly necessary to keep my body functioning. I opened the door and closed it behind me, took a deep breath and turned my body, revealing my destination. A father without any cover was now standing in front of the bed. I was paralyzed. He grabbed my arms and put me on the bed, pinning me down with his strength. I couldn't move. My legs were forced open and… The clothes that had once kept me hidden were now torn and no longer offered the security I had before. He came in. Blood dripped down the sheets and onto my flesh, purity was now something I could never seek. "I know you like it," yes, Dad, I like it as much as I like the pain of being stabbed a million times, it's really incredible, I like it as much as I like the feeling of termites in my eyes, I like it as much as I like the feeling of my flesh rotting from untreated wounds, I like it as much as I like you. I truly became a receptacle of despair, agony and terror. It seemed to last an hour, two hours, three, a month, a year, my whole corrupted life. When my father felt satisfied, he ordered me to leave his room and go to mine. I did as I was told and sat down on my bed. Now I remember. That's why I couldn't walk.

[dudefrommywesterns]

4 for the prompts, if you're taking them

i wasn't planning to but i'll take this one

sorry if this sounds rusty. i haven't written in a while and i haven't written this ship at all.

4. making dinner (with ricco because brainrot)

Mike didn't think they'd memorize their new boyfriend's phone number so quickly. They typed it into the telephone as easily as they might have written their own name.

It rang a few times before Joe came to the phone.

"Hey," Mike said into the receiver.

"Hi."

Mike couldn't stop their heart from leaping or their fingers from twirling the phone cord. "Uh, my roommate is going to be out tonight. Maybe you could come over. We could have dinner or something. You know, if you have time."

"Yeah, sure. When?"

It was Saturday. He wouldn't be too busy.

"Uh, about 6?" they asked.

"See you then."

"Yeah."

They hung up.

He didn't arrive at 6. He arrived 20 minutes early.

They'd only prepped the vegetables and started the roux twenty minutes ago. There was still 20 more minutes on that, the time for the rice, and the bread they'd hoped to toast.

He gave them a small, fond smile that made them weak in the knees.

"You're early," they told him.

"I couldn't wait to see you."

"Dinner's not done," they said as they whisked the roux. It wasn't the right shade of brown yet.

He sniffed. "What are we having?"

"Gumbo."

"Do you need any help?" he asked.

They shrugged. "You could get the vegetable base for me. Follow the directions on the jar."

"Where is it?" he asked as he poked his head in the fridge.

"Door. Second shelf."

As he mixed the base with water, he asked, "What all's in this?"

"Uh, rice, bell peppers, onions — actually, could you chop the onion? I hate doing that."

Mike tossed him the onion, which he narrowly missed dropping.

"You didn't tell me you were doing to throw it at me!"

"Sorry."

"Why do I have a feeling this is going to give me heartburn?" their boyfriend joked as he diced the onion.

"It just might."

"So what's after the onion?"

"After the...? Oh! There's the vegetable base and the spices and the okra."

Eventually, they asked, "Mind starting the rice?"

They slid him the recipe and he squinted to read it. "Whose handwriting is this?"

"Mine."

"Oh."

"Yeah, sorry, lefty with a pen."

He laughed and Mike's heart received a jolt of electricity.

"Anyway, um, the rice is here and you did the base and uh, here are the spices and vegetables for the rice."

As soon as the rice was covered, the roux was done.

"So, more vegetables, more base, and uh, that's it for now I think."

"And now we wait," Mike said as they put the last of the ingredients into the soon-to-be gumbo.

He laid a hand on their shoulder. "You know, no one's made me a meal in a long time. If you don't count Nino and Angela."

"Well, they do own a restaurant."

He gave their shoulder a squeeze. "Thank you."

"You helped."

"It was kinda nice actually," they added. "I'm used to cooking alone."

"If you ever want to cook with someone again, give me a call."

Mike chuckled. "Will do."

"I hope you like it. Now would be a bad time for my food not to turn out."

He pressed a kiss to the side of their head. "It'll turn out."

[ell0ra-br3kk3r]

Because i have absolutely no shame nor dignity whatsoever

♡ asks ♡

 Do you have freckles? 

 Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it? 

What was the last song you listened to? 

Do you sleep on your back, stomach or side? 

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? 

Do you prefer drawing or writing? 

What’s your ideal number of blankets to sleep with? 

What’s your favorite band/artist? 

When is your birthday? 

How tall are you? 

What color are your eyes? 

Who are five (or more) people you want to hug right now? 

Fears? 

What’s your favorite color? 

What’s your favorite season? 

Want any tattoos? What of? 

Want any piercings? Where? 

Who is the last person you texted? 

Do you have a best friend? How long have you been friends? 

What/who do you miss? 

How was your day today? 

How much sleep did you get last night? 

Do you believe in aliens? 

When was the last time you cried? Why? 

What’s your favorite decade? 

What are some seemingly childish things you like? 

What’s your favorite book? Or just one you’ve read a few times? 

How are you, really? 

Does it take you a long time to make decisions? 

What are you looking forward to in the near future? 

What are you looking forward to in the distant future? 

If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go? 

Do you sleep with your door open or closed? 

What’s your favorite flower? 

Do you currently have a squish? 

Do you like your middle name? 

Do you prefer dogs or cats? 

Do you have any phobias? 

Do you stay up late?

Do you like the beach? Do you prefer it sunny or cloudy? 

What’s your favorite cartoon? 

Tag 5 of your favorite blogs

Do you have siblings? How many? 

Who was the last person you said “I love you” to? 

Is there anyone you would die for? 

What do you need when you’re sad? 

Have you memorized your phone number? 

Who’s someone you can trust with your life? 

What does your last text say? 

Wild Card. Any question, ask away.

dude- bahahaha

1.nope

2. tea and just plain or sometimes with sugar

3. movies by conan gray

4. depends... but mostly on my side

5. no i don't i keep them on my bed, but they end up falling off the bed haha

6. writing! 100% no one want's to see my drawings bahaha

7. one

8. i have too many but one of them: nirvana

9. jan.5th

10. a giant 5'2

11. dark brown

12. @romanticvampire @saraheartsxavier @juneberrie @lucyandethel @princess-paramour

13. the dark

14. blue or mint green

15. fall

16. nope. i did a few years back but then i realized it was a needle and now.... no thank you :)

17. i want another one on my ears

18. technically @jahayla-parker hahaha off of tumblr one of my friends

19. yes yes yes! i have two of them, one of them i've been friends with since i was 7yrs. and the other since i was 9yrs.

20. ummmm marauder fandom. i want to get back into it haha

21. eh, alright pretty chill

22. ......... 5hrs

23. eh, kinda not really like who knows what's out there but i'm not convinced they're green with creepy eyes

24. yesterday... cause i told my mom i thought i was pregnate.... while i'm on my period

25. no clue

26. ummm disney channel??

27. six of crowsss

28. i'm honestly alright!

29. depends if it's life changing yes. 100% yes. if it's... what i wanna eat for breakfast no haha

30. family trip in feb!

31. graduation

32. france

33. closed

34. i don't have one

35. i have manyyy platonic crushes

36. i looove my middle name!

37. dogs

38. i have a few but one would be the dark

39. yes

40. i loove the beach! slightly sunny

41. bugs bunny haha

42. @princess-paramour @jahayla-parker @luveline @robynlilyblack @masivechaos plus manyyy more

43. yes! one younger brother

44. my dad

45. yeah. my parents, brother and my two close friends

46. alone time and then to be held and told it'll be okay

47. yupp

48. my family and two close friends

49. "i haven't... but i've heard a lot about it"

[winged-void]

time for kristine to do the PRIME NUMBERS

1. Do you have freckles?

Yeag

2. Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it?

I like both and I put so much cream and sugar in em

3. What was the last song you listened to?

It's a metaphor, fool by say anything

5. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?

Yes! Several and also my flesh animals

7. What’s your ideal number of blankets to sleep with?

As many as I can have without overheating. The colder it is the better for me

11. What color are your eyes?

Grey

13. Fears?

Dying, abandonment, bugs, the usual stuff

17. Want any piercings? Where?

I think a nose piercing would be fun

19. Do you have a best friend? How long have you been friends?

I got a bestie and a best good friend, I've known one of them two years and one of them one year. I'd say my wife and girlfriend also fall in somewhere near this category for me, but a lil different obviously

23. Do you believe in aliens?

Yeah but they haven't like. Come here lol. The universe is big there's life somewhere. It'd be cool if there were some lil creatures under the ice on europa tho

29. Does it take you a long time to make decisions?

It's impossible my friend

31. What are you looking forward to in the distant future?

I cannot conceptualize of the future at all, never have been able to.

37. Do you prefer dogs or cats?

I love both, why do they get compaired it's silly.

41. What’s your favorite cartoon?

Depends on your definition. Probably into the spiderverse

43. Do you have siblings? How many?

2ish

47. Have you memorized your phone number?

Yeag