#i might be lying. i might not even come back

[marcyvampire]

SILLY LITTLE BAT

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Anti-Hero! Fem!reader.

sinopsis ⸺ In the shadowed halls of Wayne Manor, a girl lost among the darkness seeks the connection she never had. Her mother, a kleptomaniac with a broken heart, vanished, leaving only echoes of empty promises. Surrounded by a family that never sees her, her pain turns into a deafening silence. The void left by her past traps her in a limbo of solitude and sorrow.

One dark night, seeking her own way, she became what she once despised. Now, like the albino bat rejected by its own flock, she flies alone in the twilight. Her pale skin glows in the dark, but her heart still yearns for the warmth of a home she never came to know.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, murdering,Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Discrimination, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Implicit Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Suicide, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia, Manipulation

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is—so there might be some grammar or spelling mistakes here and there. This is the first part of a story I’m writing for a friend (Isabel, I love you, you brat), and also an experiment to see what it’s like to write on Tumblr. Please support me! :"((

Nobody is coming to save you

Get up.

Your mother was not a good woman, and that was an undeniable fact, heavy as the shadow that covers Gotham City at nightfall. She was a creature of the underworld, one among the specters that wandered under the yoke of crime, walking among dangerous names like Selina Kyle or Harleen Quinzel, yet always remaining in the background, never reaching their fame or infamy.

She was nothing more than a kleptomaniac and a mythomaniac, doomed to live by cunning and deceit. She took advantage of the men who crossed her path, from the lowest criminals, like The Penguin, to the most powerful man in the city: Bruce Wayne.

You never called him Dad. To you, he was always Bruce, and on the rare occasions you addressed him, you did so with distant formality, "Mr. Wayne." Richard, your adoptive brother, found in him a father figure, while to you, he was just another shadow in the mansion, that huge, cold house you arrived at after your mother’s death.

You remember how, time and again, you tried to warn your mother to stop stealing, to stop lying, that those dark paths would inevitably lead her to Arkham Asylum, surrounded by all the lunatics you feared so much, or even worse: to death. But she always responded with a playful smile, stroking your head with her delicate hands, adorned with stolen jewelry and crude tattoos. "Those are just fantasies of an eight-year-old girl," she would say sweetly, while her ring-laden fingers assured you that you needn’t worry, "I will always come back for you," she promised, "because you are the only thing more valuable than any diamond I’ve ever held."

But the cruel truth was that was the last time you saw her. That night she left, and she never returned. It was then that the last vestiges of innocence faded with her absence. From that moment on, you ceased to be a child.

And that was one of the few things you understood with absolute clarity. There were no more empty promises, no more caresses tinged with lies. All that remained was the silence of a life fading away, like a stolen jewel that never returns to its rightful owner.

The only thing you knew after calling the police when your mother didn’t show up after two days was that they found her corpse in a back alley far from Gotham, showing signs of having been beaten and bruised by some underground gang.

Commissioner Gordon searched the entire house for illicit substances and signs of debts to mobsters, but he only ended up finding documents, stolen jewelry, and letters from your mother that were never sent, and most importantly, DNA evidence implicating that the city’s millionaire was your biological father.

From then on, your life was stained with eternal gray, that muted shade that erased all traces of light or shadow. There was no more white or black, only a silent fog that, day by day, enveloped you and dragged you into a madness that seemed inevitable. Gotham itself seemed more alive than the place you called home, although "home" was never the right word.

You didn’t love any of the Wayne family members. Bruce, your biological father, never listened to you. To him, you were always just another shadow, a ghost in the vast mansion that he prioritized over his other children, his "true" heirs. There was always something more important, something more urgent, and your presence faded among the cold walls and the echo of his hurried footsteps. With each passing day, you became more invisible to him, as if your very existence were a mistake he preferred to ignore.

Richard, the perfect brother, was kind on some occasions. He spoke to you courteously, but when you needed him, when you asked him to attend one of your performances, there was always an excuse, something that kept him away, as if your passion and accomplishments were insignificant details in his heroic life.

Jason, on the other hand, despised you from the start. He saw you as an intruder, a child of gold—but not of that pure and valuable gold, but of a dirty and false one, which he always mocked with disdain. And although you never cared for him, when he died, silent tears rolled down your face. It wasn’t out of love, but out of respect for what he represented, for the brutal reality of his fall.

Tim, in contrast, was the most indifferent. To him, you were a nobody, so irrelevant that you weren’t even worth a glance. Spending time with his friends or being the Robin of the moment mattered more than you did. You lived on his periphery, in a limbo where neither your name nor your face seemed to exist.

Cassandra, Stephanie, Barbara… at least they treated you with politeness, but you knew they didn’t really remember who you were. They saw you, smiled at you out of obligation, but deep down you knew they had no idea of your name, your story, your struggle to be more than a shadow in that world.

The worst of all was Damian, your younger half-brother. When he arrived at the mansion, Alfred introduced him to you with that serene formality he always had, and you, driven by an almost desperate impulse, tried to reach out to him. You wanted to offer him the support and affection of an older sister, that warmth you would have longed for in his situation. But all you received in return was a cold response: a katana piercing your abdomen. I wish I could say it was just a metaphor, but no, that wound was as real as the blade that cut your skin.

You would have liked to think that the pain was symbolic, that Damian had only rejected your affection with harsh words or his usual arrogance. But no, it was much more than that. The only thing you received in exchange for your attempt at fraternal love was a stab, a scar you still carry not only on your body but also in your soul. Because in that brutal gesture, you understood that the blood that united you also separated you, sharper than any weapon. And that was how you tried to connect.

You strived to stand out, to learn, to shine in your own ambitions, wishing that your success would be enough to earn you a place, a bit of affection. But no matter how hard you tried, it was never enough. Your talent crashed against indifference, your achievements faded into the air, as if they had no weight in the lives of others.

The only light, the only beacon in that storm of gray, was Alfred. The only one who smiled at you with genuine tenderness, the only one you truly loved. To you, he was the real father, the one who was always there, expecting nothing in return, offering you a silent but firm love. You did call him father, and his presence was the only thing that kept your sanity, the only thing preventing the gray from consuming you completely.

But even that love, so genuine and deep, was not enough to fill the void that your own family left you. And in that void, you continue to float, trapped between the girl you were and the woman you are trying to be, searching for a place you can truly call home.

Y/n's small room, though modest, had always been her refuge. The walls were adorned with unfinished sketches, trophies from various activities, and some paintings she had completed with dedication, showcasing her passion for both manual and performing arts.

The dawn light filtered softly through the curtains, bathing the space in golden tones, giving it a warmth that contrasted with the coldness of the rest of Wayne Manor.

On the desk, a small cake rested on a plate, simple yet made with love. Beside it, Alfred, with his usual understated elegance, watched Y/n with a mixture of nostalgia and concern. He, the only one who seemed to remember her birthday, offered her a delicate professional drawing set, wrapped in smooth, elegant paper.

"Happy birthday, Miss," Alfred said with a gentle smile, although his eyes reflected a sadness that was hard to conceal. "I know how much you love art, so I thought this would be helpful for your new projects."

Y/n took the gift in her hands with a genuine smile. It had been so hard for her to find moments of joy lately, but Alfred's gesture filled her with a warmth in her chest that she hadn't experienced in a long time. She placed the gift into one of the many brown boxes she had prepared for her upcoming move.

"Thank you, Alfred. It's perfect," she said, examining the set carefully, as if each detail were a reminder of the affection he held for her. "It will help me a lot... although, well," she sighed, as if searching for the right words. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." Alfred raised an eyebrow, attentive, as she continued, glancing at the small space that had been her home within the vast mansion.

"Today... today is not just my birthday. It's the day I leave here." Her voice was firm, yet there was a sense of liberation in it, as if this were a long-awaited step. "I am finally no longer a Wayne. I go back to being a L/n."

Silence filled the room for a moment, heavy and dense. Alfred clasped his hands, striving to maintain his composure.

"Miss, I can't help but feel a certain unease hearing this. Are you sure this is what you want? This house, though empty in many ways, has always been your home..."

"Home?" Y/n looked at him with a mix of sadness and determination. "This house has never been my home, Alfred. Not like it was for Dick, nor even for Bruce. I have always been a stranger here, the daughter of a woman who never fit into this world, the bastard child. My mother taught me to find my own path, to not cling to what doesn’t belong to me... and being here, being called Wayne, has never belonged to me." Alfred sighed softly, turning his gaze toward the window. He knew there was truth in her words, but that didn’t lessen the pain of her leaving. "I know it’s hard to understand," Y/n continued, "but for the first time in a long time, I feel happy, Alfred. I’ve graduated, college is just around the corner, and I want to start anew. I want to find what truly makes me, me... not what others expect of me."

The old butler remained silent for a few moments, nodding slowly. He knew he couldn't retain her, that it was not his place to interfere in the young woman's dreams. But still, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at the thought of the house being even emptier without her. "I just wish you find what you’re looking for, Miss. And if you ever need a place to return to... this door will always be open for you."

Y/n stepped closer to him, gently hugging him, something she had rarely done. "Thank you, Alfred," she whispered against his shoulder. "You will always be my family, but I need this. I need to discover who I am outside of this last name."

The old butler felt the lump in his throat as he tightened the embrace a little longer before letting her go. He knew that deep down, she was doing the right thing. But that didn’t make it hurt any less to see her leave.

"Alfred, can you call the movers? I’ll be leaving tonight," Y/n said as she closed the last box with trembling hands, her gaze lost in the empty corners of the room she once considered her refuge. The butler, ever serene, nodded with his unwavering calmness.

"Don't worry, Miss, I assure you they will be here on time." His voice was soft, almost an echo of the ancient walls of the mansion, as if he himself were part of that structure that had seen so many comings and goings, so many lives broken and healed in silence.

Alfred turned halfway to leave, but Y/n's voice stopped him, broken yet sweet, like a melody at sunset. "Alfred..."

The man turned slowly, his eyes filled with paternal warmth, though always contained behind a formal gesture. "Yes, Miss?" he replied, with that tranquility that had always brought Y/n peace in her worst moments.

She took a breath, feeling how the words she had kept for so long fought to come out, to break the shell she had built since childhood. "I’ve never told you, but... thank you. Thank you for being the father I never had, for being there when no one else was."

For a moment, the silence in the room was heavier than all the accumulated boxes, deeper than any word. Alfred, who had been a witness to so many confessions and secrets in that house, stood still, his eyes shining with an emotion he rarely showed. "Miss," he murmured, his voice slightly choked, "it was an honor and a privilege to take care of you. If I ever gave you anything close to what you deserved, then my life has had true purpose."

Y/n smiled sadly, nodding slowly. "You did, Alfred. You did. And for that, I will always carry you with me, even if I leave here."

The butler slightly bowed his head in respect, swallowing any emotion that might betray his composure. "Wherever you go, you will always have a home here, Miss."

"I know," she said, though in her heart, she knew she wouldn’t return.

And as Alfred left the room to make the call, Y/n let out a long sigh, as if with it, she were leaving behind a part of herself, a part she could no longer carry with her.

Life in Gotham is like constantly walking on the edge of a razor blade. The city never sleeps, always alert, always dangerous, and for someone with the Wayne surname, the risks multiply. It has been a year since you left the mansion, trying to erase any ties that bound you to that life, desperately wishing the name would fade into the echo of the dirty streets and crumbling buildings. But it's not that easy. The name Wayne remains an indelible mark that the media and the people of Gotham refuse to let fade. The forgotten child, the silent accident of billionaire Bruce Wayne. And although you try to live as if you don’t exist under that shadow, the weight of the legacy haunts you.

You left with little, barely enough money to rent a small apartment in one of the worst corners of the city. You share the space with a friend, a plant-loving girl who has filled every nook of the place with leaves and pots, as if trying to make green defy the constant darkness of Gotham. You get along well with her; her love for nature is almost an antithesis to the chaos of the city, and she has taught you that even in the hardest concrete, something can bloom. She always accompanied you on the coldest, loneliest nights, giving you a warmth that, although ethereal, was very welcome. But still, life is not easy. You barely survive, spending the little you have on cheap food and paying the rent. There are days when the cold seeps through the poorly sealed windows, and you wonder if it was really better to be in the mansion instead of this little trench. However, you prefer this rough freedom to the soulless luxury of Wayne Manor.

Freedom, however, comes at a price. It wasn't enough to distance yourself, to change your life, or even to always carry a knife for defense. Gotham does not forget. People recognize you in the shadows, whisper your name, and approach you, sometimes with curiosity and other times with disdain. You have been beaten more than once. Some just for being a Wayne, others because they think they can extort you, even though they have no idea you can barely get by. The scars on your body bear witness to those beatings, but you refuse to give up. You get up every morning, despite the pain, and continue on your way. You don’t need Batman. You don’t need Bruce. You learned long ago that he wouldn't come to save you.

That night, like so many others, you were heading to the subway for your night shift, with the hood of your coat covering your face, trying to go unnoticed. The sound of the tracks echoed in your ears, a constant reminder of the city's hustle. You had gotten used to walking fast, avoiding eye contact, as if each step was a small battle won against the city. But this time, something was different.

"So it was true, the little Wayne girl is roaming the city... how lovely." The raspy, mocking voice rang out beside you, cutting through the heavy air of the train station. The man speaking wore a suit that, at first glance, seemed elegant, but there was something about his extreme thinness, his skin clinging to his bones and his disheveled hair, that made him look more like a specter of Gotham than a distinguished figure. A ghost from the shadows that had stalked you since you set foot on the streets.

If it weren't for his gaunt appearance and unsettling aura, you might have mistaken him for one of your father's employees. "I'm not a Wayne anymore," you said disdainfully, your voice sharp like the edge of a dagger refusing to be touched. "If you want money, I don’t have any. And Mr. Wayne wouldn’t give a cent for me either."

Your gaze drifted to the station clock. 8 minutes until the train that would take you away from this corner of Gotham, far from the shadows and faces that always seemed to recognize you.

The man let out a dry, raspy laugh that sent chills down your spine. "I don’t want your money, pretty girl," he replied, moving closer, invading your space with the same familiarity that Gotham’s filth slipped into every corner. "You’re worth more than that." You felt his calloused, scarred hand rest on your hip, with a pressure that was neither violent nor friendly. The contact filled you with disgust.

7 minutes.

You clenched your fist, your jaw tight as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I don’t want sex either, idiot," you spat, your words loaded with contained fury. Your hand subtly slid toward your bag, where your knife lay, waiting to be used.

6 minutes.

The man didn’t flinch. In fact, he let out a low, mocking laugh. "And I don’t want that either, little girl," he murmured, his cold, deep blue eyes scrutinizing you as if they could read every dark corner of your soul. "I want something more from you."

5 minutes.

"What do you want then?" you asked, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady, even as the ice of fear began to creep down your spine. Your eyes scrutinized him, searching his gaze for any hint of his true intentions, but all you saw was darkness.

4 minutes.

He let out a long, chilling laugh, tightening his grip on your hip. "Do you know what I want, Y/n?"

3 minutes.

His voice dropped, as if his words were a cursed secret the wind refused to carry away. "I want you."

2 minutes.

The world seemed to stop. You knew there was no time to run. There was no time to pull out the knife or to scream. It was as if the clock itself had conspired against you, reducing those last minutes to mere seconds.

1 minute.

The blow was sharp, a flash of excruciating pain at the back of your head. The cold metal of the station, the hum of the city, everything faded abruptly. The last thought that crossed your mind, before the world vanished into darkness, was that this time, you didn’t expect Batman to save you. It wasn’t a mere thief or a street threat that was taking you.

Gotham, with all its cruelty, always had new ways to remind you that there is no escape.

That night, when the Gotham subway stopped at the station, there was no one to pick up.

The mansion felt emptier than ever, like a deserted and cold labyrinth, where each hallway seemed to stretch into an infinite tunnel, devouring the light.

The silence was overwhelming, an oppression that enveloped every corner, as if even the ancient walls had run out of words. It was so heavy that the few who remained in the mansion couldn’t help but move uncomfortably, trying to fill that void with something, anything.

Bruce Wayne walked through those same hallways with a strange feeling, as if something was missing, though he didn’t know what. An unease, a persistent discomfort that he couldn’t shake off.

He had been like this for months, with that absence haunting his mind, a gap he couldn't identify. And then, suddenly, like a gust of icy wind, the truth struck him.

You.

His daughter.

His little daughter.

How long had it been since he last saw you? When was the last time he heard your laughter, the one that always seemed too sarcastic, too filled with resentment? He stopped abruptly, frowning. Why couldn’t he remember you? He couldn’t bring to mind a clear image of your face, not even how you used to look at him... why? How could he have forgotten you like that?

Damn.

It was as if time had stopped. It had been a year, maybe more, since he had really thought about you. He felt a pang of guilt pierce his chest, a heavy, silent guilt that dragged him into the abyss of his own negligence. Not knowing what else to do, he began to check the rooms, one after another.

Each door he opened was another blow to his conscience. Where was your room? The more he searched, the more confused he felt. The mansion was enormous, but how could he have forgotten where you slept? How was it possible that he didn’t know where you lived in the house where both of you grew up? Had you been here all this time?

Each door he opened was identical to the last, as if all the rooms had fused into one.

None showed a trace of you.

None seemed to have a hint of your presence. Didn’t you decorate your room? He thought frantically, didn’t you even mark it as yours? Panic began to take hold of him. Anxiety wrapped around him like a fist tightening on his chest. Were you still living in the mansion? Or had you left without saying a word, like a shadow fading at dawn? But... no, you hadn’t mentioned anything. You hadn’t said you were leaving. Or had you? And if you had, why didn’t he remember? How could he have ignored you for so long that now he didn’t even know if you were still under the same roof?

“Ah!” he exclaimed in a whisper, unable to contain the dread he felt.

Frustration consumed him from within. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, breathing heavily, and the echo of his voice faded into the empty walls. He tried to remember something, anything about you, about the last time they spoke, about how you were... but everything was blurry, as if his mind was betraying him, hiding you behind an impenetrable fog.

How could he have forgotten so much?

He brought his hands to his head, trying to calm himself, but only felt more confusion, more desperation. The mansion, which had once been his home, now felt like a strange and foreign place.

Had you been the one who made it feel like home? The question echoed in his mind, but he had no answer. Just more questions. More uncertainties. Finally, he let his arms fall, exhausted. He had checked almost all the rooms and had found not a trace of you. Not a clue. Not a sign that you had been there. And at that moment, something dark and painful began to settle in his heart.

Had you ever really been there?

Then something caught his attention as he passed by the cleaning room. In a dusty corner, next to a forgotten bag, something was protruding. Something small, old, and faded. He bent down and pulled it from the dirty clothes. It was a stuffed animal, or what was left of one. The faded black of its suit left no doubt. It was a figure of Batman, but worn down by time, battered to the point of looking forgotten.

Bruce's eyes were fixed on the small piece of fabric hanging from the doll's neck. A tag.

Your name.

Your name, handwritten, in ink that was already fading.

Bruce felt a lump in his throat, a mix of guilt and rage. How could he have forgotten something so important?

He clutched the doll tightly, as if doing so would return a piece of you to him, but instead of comfort, he only felt more emptiness. Where were you? He ran to Alfred, who looked at him with a mix of concern and pity.

"Alfred..." Bruce said, his voice breaking. "Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

The butler, with his always serene face, seemed to age suddenly. A long silence settled between them, as if time was fading away. "Mr. Bruce, I didn’t mean to..." Alfred lowered his gaze. "I didn’t want to burden you with that truth, but... it’s time you know."

Bruce felt a chill run down his spine. Truth? What truth?

"She left almost a year ago. She didn’t say where. She just... she took all her belongings, though they weren’t many, and left. She said she didn’t want to be a burden. That you and the other family members had too many things to worry about."

Bruce took a step back, as if the words had physically struck him. Did she have enough age to leave? A burden? Never, not for a second, did he think that of you, of his little daughter who, even though she wasn’t wanted, he embraced under his wing just like Damian.

You were never a burden.

...or were you?

No, he refused to acknowledge it; he just... he hadn’t spent time with you because Gotham needed him!

But when you needed him, where was Batman?

Where was Bruce Wayne when his only biological daughter needed him?

"Alfred, do you know anything about Y/n?" the hero asked, worry clear on his face.

Alfred didn’t look at him; he only stared into nothingness. "...I haven’t heard anything about her for two months...

And honestly... I'm starting to think...

that she might be lost to us forever..."

A/N — This is definitely apart from being my first official Tumblr post, it is also my first DC post and especially the first from the Lord of the Night xD

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

Isabel, I dedicate this to you, my love. Eat more to be well, you fucking anorexic, don't suck.

take a bath!

inspiration: @acid-ixx with his Again & Again series, @gotham-daydreams' work, @i-cant-sing's work and @klemen-tine's work, be sure to check them out!

[milla-frenchy]

In the cold night

3k1 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: being on patrol, Joel and you spend the cold winter night together in a small house

Warnings: 18+ mdni. mention of a past SA attempt (not by Joel), protective!joel, feral!joel saving reader, friends to lovers, one bed, soft!joel, praise kink, masturbation (f), thighs rubbing, oral (f), piv. No age specified

a/n: this is written for @justagalwhowrites 's “Joel Miller birthday celebration”. I chose Jackson!Joel/one bed- Thank you for this event 🙏 Thank you @arcanefox207 for the gif in the mood board ❤️ Please, check out the full gif here and some others, they are stunning 😍 Thank you, Ally 🙏❤️ @aurorawritestoescape thank you as always for beta-ing, baby 💕🫶 dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

The crunch of your footsteps in the snow echoes in your head. Two rabbits are hanging from Joel’s back, clinging to his shoulder. His brown jacket has lost its shine long, long time ago, and the leather is frayed at the elbows and sleeves. Every time you pass him, the smell of old leather rushes into your nostrils. A reassuring, familiar scent.

You’re heading to an outpost, as you have done so many times before. You know each other's reflexes by heart, the way your bodies tense in case of danger, the glances that make speech useless. You no longer count the number of infected you have killed during patrols.

You look around a small wooden house. Searching for footprints, anything that might put you on alert. You scan the area, whether for infected, or worse- hunters or raiders.

You feel safe with Joel, ever since the day he snatched you from the hands of raiders. Two dirty, skinny men. They surprised you, during one of your first long patrols. They knocked Joel out, and dragged you on an old mattress of the shelter you just arrived at. They did not even pay attention to the dead duck that you planned to eat that evening. In this world, with some men, food is not the first thing they crave. 

You punched one of them, then tried to grab your knife, but two men were too much to handle. When they threw you onto the mattress, you struggled, screaming, biting, then one held your arms while the other removed your pants. Tears obstructed your view. You would have preferred to be bitten by an infected, rather than that. 

Just as the first man was about to lie down between your thighs while you were crying with rage, you heard a dull, cold, unexpected noise. A knife thrown from the opposite side of the room, just stuck in the skull of the man, holding your arms. As soon Joel threw the knife, he rushed to rip the man off your body, and then punched him so many times that his face got swollen from the blows and turned unrecognizable.

“Piece o’shit!” Joel growled from the depths of his chest. You looked at him, still half in shock at what had almost happened to you, feeling relieved. The man was lying on the ground, barely breathing. Joel let go of his collar and retrieved the knife from the second man’s skull. He pressed the tip of the blade against his heart and slowly pushed it in, his dark gaze fixed on the man’s. The raider’s feet twitched for a few moments, before they froze for eternity.

Then Joel rushed over to you and covered you with an old blanket pulled from the foot of the bed. As soon as he sat down on the mattress, his worried eyes fixed on you, you wrapped your arms around his waist. Wanting to forget your fear, to curl up against his reassuring presence. He took you in his arms, rocking you slowly, holding you close to him.

“ ‘m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear them coming, because of my damn bad ear.”

“It’s ok, Joel, it’s ok. They didn’t do anything to me,” you muffled in his chest.

“No it’s not. They did way too much. But I got you, now. I got you. Won’t happen again. Not on my watch.”

He held you against him for several minutes, patiently, one hand caressing your back, the other resting on the nape of your neck, until you stopped crying. He then asked if you were feeling a little better, if he could get the bodies out of the outpost. He didn’t want you to see them anymore. You nodded, watched him as he dragged the bodies out into the surrounding woods. 

He was sitting next to you until you fell asleep. He stood guard all night, staring at the shadows of the trees through the window, letting you rest.

From that day on, you knew that nothing would happen to you as long as you were with Joel. He was the type of man who, when he said something, stuck to it. He was reliable, loyal, and serious. He was your patrol partner, and you couldn't have asked for a better one.

Once you reach the shelter, you prepare the fire in the hearth of the old fireplace, while Joel goes around this old house, half buried under the snow. It is the first time that you patrol here in the middle of winter, and the walls and the ground are icy. You eat one of the rabbits, trying in vain to warm yourself by the fire. As you get ready to go to bed, Joel puts a blanket on the floor.

“What are you doing, Joel? You can't sleep there. You're gonna freeze and die, it’s too cold!”

“There's only one bed, sweetheart. Ain't gonna sleep with you.”

“Of course you're gonna sleep with me. Come on, Joel, don't be silly. We can share the bed, we have to keep each other warm or the next patrol will find our two skeletons in this damn house.”

“Jesus, you’re so stubborn! Alright then.”

You smile, thinking that you had never met someone as stubborn as him, and if he hadn't noticed your slightly blue lips, he probably wouldn't have changed his mind.

You undress and slip under the thin blankets, wearing your t-shirt and panties. Grimacing at the contact with the cold and damp covers. He joins you in the small bed, and even though warmth radiates from his body, your teeth still chatter.

“Christ, you're freezing. C’mere, I’ll keep you warm,” he says, as you take off your t-shirt and he discards his too, leaving only his boxers.

“Told you we had to sleep in the same damn bed… and I'm the stubborn one?”

He chuckles, and takes you in his arms, his chest pressed against your back.

“Better, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, you’re as warm as a boiler. How is that possible? Icicles are practically falling off these blankets.”

“Alright, you’re exaggerating a bit, don’t you think?”

You scoff and muffle a laugh, then fall asleep.

You wake up during the night, Joel's light snoring in your ear. His arms are still around you and you're much less cold. His scent surrounds you. You shift slightly, putting the blanket that had slipped back on both of you. The movement makes him mumble in his sleep and you smile, getting ready to fall back asleep, until you feel him twitch against you. His cock, asleep until then, has just woken up in his boxers when your ass brushed against it.

You open your eyes suddenly. It’s been a long time since you felt a body- a hard cock - against you. You try to move away from him a little, to not wake him up, to not create awkwardness between you. But he holds you tighter against him, letting out a sigh of contentment when his cock finds its place against your ass again.

You get a rush of arousal and you're not sure if you'll be able to fall back asleep. Your walls are contracting painfully, calling for a release of the pressure from your crotch. You close your eyes, placing your hand under the pillow. Trying to think of something else, until his cock jerks again. Once, twice. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to fall back asleep. 

So you think that maybe, if you do it discreetly, you can make yourself come. Even though he's lying against you, his chest against your back.

You slide your hand south, slowly, so as not to wake him, and start brushing your swollen folds through your panties. But it's not enough. You slide your hand under the hem, finally whirling your clit under your finger. Joel growls against your ear and you freeze for a few moments, until his breathing becomes calm, steady. Gently, you stroke yourself, finally starting to feel the fire in your crotch calm down a little.

You vaguely feel his nose brush your hair, not paying much attention to it, thinking he does it in his sleep. Then you feel his hand slowly slide down your arm, and you jerk, hastily removing your fingers from your panties, realizing that Joel is awake and that he has caught you.

“It’s ok, sweetheart,” he whispers softly in your ear in his sleepy voice, taking your hand and gently bringing it back to your pussy.

You feel the heat reach your cheeks and think about getting up, but you're too ashamed to face him. There had never been any sexual tension between the two of you. You're what you could call friends, in this lost world. You trust each other, he told you about Sarah, you told him about your late husband and son. You trust each other, and honestly, you never thought about him as more than a friend. And you don't want to ruin your friendship.

“I just want you to feel good.”

You stay silent for a few moments. Thinking about what he's telling you. You know he's sincere. 

You feel your clit pulsing and you bite your lip.

“Ok, Joel,” you breathe out. 

You're unsure of what will happen between the two of you after, but you let him lead your hand and slide your fingers under your soaked panties. You're already moaning at the first touch and you feel your nipples hardening. 

Delicately, the tips of his fingers pressed against yours, you let him lead the dance and travel through your folds. Then he slides both your hands into your panties, and makes you touch yourself so delicately, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, that new moans escape you.

“Keep going, Joel, please…”

He hums, grazing your ear with his nose. You hear his breathing deepen, then he presses his forehead against your shoulder blade, still using your finger to brush your clit. You feel your pussy dripping. The fact that he is using your fingers, so perfectly, is perhaps the most sensual thing you have ever done.

You feel his cock stuck in his boxers harden even more as he keeps touching you. You crave to feel him against you, without any fabric between your bodies. You forget your shyness, your reserve, your worries.

“Would you… pull down your boxers? So I can feel you?*

“Of course, sweetheart.” He lets go of your hand to pull down his underwear. His hard cock springs out and this time you feel it fully against you. Big, hard.

“Between my thighs, please…”

He kisses your back and grabs his cock, slides it into this tight space, then comes to rest against your fingers again, in your panties. You slowly move your pelvis back and forth, rubbing yourself against his shaft.

“Christ, sweetheart… Feeling you against me, like that…”

“I know, Joel. It’s… good, really good.”

You no longer remember your fear that this will change things between you. The feeling is too good, too powerful, to think about anything else.

His shaft slides easily between your thighs, your pussy soaking him continuously.

“You’re so wet for me, baby”, he whispers in your ear, and a new flow trickles from your walls. His free hand caresses your shoulder, then he kisses it. You feel his mustache brush your skin, and your moans fill the room.

“You’re gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

“Fuck… fuck yeah, I'm gonna come, Joel.”

He keeps playing with your fingers with the same rhythm, feeling that you are close. Your mind goes blank. You only think about the pressure growing inside you, ready to explode.

“Come on baby, be a good girl for me,” he murmurs.

The orgasm washes over you, and you arch your back under its power, your ass pressed against Joel’s crotch. “Always such a good girl for me,” he praises, holding you against him, your hand in his, until your jerks stop.

Your breathing slowly goes down. “Damn”, you say. “That was so hot.”

“It was,” he smiles, kissing your shoulder. He doesn't ask for more, doesn't put any pressure on you, but you need more. You need your bodies to be one. You don't think too much about it, then add quickly, “Joel… I need to…” before shyness overwhelms you again, and he asks softly “tell me, baby. What do you need?”

The soft tone of his voice reassures you, and you add “I need to feel you… I need to feel you inside me.”

“Turn around, sweetheart. Lemme look at you.”

You do as he says, and face him. You barely see his face in the darkness of the night. Just enough to perceive the intensity in his gaze, behind his usual sweetness with you, as he strokes your cheek gently with his thumb.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod, of course. Ready to take whatever he wants to give you. His warm lips land on yours and press against them. You hear him take a deep breath, then his nose rubs yours. He kisses you again, with more intensity, and sensations you thought forgotten forever jostle throughout your whole being. His tongue tastes your lips, then slides between them and finds yours. He moans as your hand grabs his shaft softly, wet with his precum and your desire. You jerk him off slowly as you continue to make out. He's big. So big. But you don't wonder if your body can accept it, after all this time. You know it will. And you know Joel will be soft. You nestle his cock at your entrance after pushing your panties aside, murmuring “I wanna feel you,” your forehead against his.

You tilt your pelvis forward and his tip slides inside you, making you hold your breath for a few moments.

“You’re ok?”

“Yeah. I just have to… get used to it.” 

He doesn’t move and lets you handle the rhythm. You kiss him again, and you feel your pussy dripping, eager to be filled. You put your hand on the back of his neck and squeeze his bicep with the other, sliding further down his shaft. Your walls spread as you glide on his tip and again, you feel that forgotten feeling. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, nipples tense. Your hand runs through his neck, and you feel his prominent veins under your fingers. 

“Oh my god,” you whine, when he is fully inside you. You pull back then push forward again, to reassure his worried eyes on you. You are so wet that the sounds echo in your ears and the whole room. Joel holds you against him, gently, sensually. One hand on your hip, the other on your back.

“Joel?” you ask.

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

“Can you lie down on me? I'd like to feel you deeper.”

He caresses your cheek and tells you yes, of course.

You lie on your back and he removes your panties, kneeling between your thighs.

And he looks at you, from your face to your cunt. "You're beautiful," he says. His stare stops there, then he glances at you. As if he was asking you silently if he could taste you. You nod and he settles between your thighs, spreading your folds with his fingers.

“You're so wet for me, baby,” he adds, before licking your pussy in a long stroke. Pointing his tongue at your clit, then running over your folds again. Your knees are bent, legs spread as wide as possible. His head moves between your offered thighs, your hands lost in his curls, while his tongue laps at your dripping pussy. He pushes two fingers in your core, and places his lips around your clit, sucking it. Then swirls it under his tongue, while his fingers thrust in at a perfect, regular pace.

“Joel,” you whimper. “I'm gonna come again.”

Your nails tighten on his scalp as you come on his tongue, your walls squeezing uncontrollably around his two fingers. He pulls them out and replaces them with his tongue, drinking in everything that flows from you. The feeling is so strong, forgotten for so long, that you feel like you're going to burst into tears. But he stops, careful not to overwhelm you, and lies down between your thighs. He places his hand on your cheek and searches for your eyes before pushing his tip into you with his other hand, eyes lowered to you.

“Damn sweetheart,” he breathes. “You feel so good around me.”

His words envelop you and lull you. His voice is low, calm, as slow and sweet as the rhythm in which he sinks into you.

All his weight is on you and you have never felt so safe in your entire life. His arms surround you as you kiss. Your hands roam the top of his body. His arms, his shoulders, his back, his cheeks, his neck. His cock slides inside you, pushing your walls in the most perfect way with each thrust. Your knees are spread wide to welcome him between your thighs. He straightens up, leaning on one hand, and looks at you. Looks into your eyes filled with desire.

He watches your neck throbbing. Your chest heaving.

He watches where his cock is digging into you.

“I'm not gonna last. Can you give me one more, baby?”

“Yeah, it's... yes.”

He lies back on you, eyes locked on yours, and slides his arms under your shoulders. Your hot, sweaty chests rub against each other. He doesn't take his eyes off you as he thrusts into you, his shaft rubbing exactly where you need it. Your fingers dig into his flesh as you come on his shaft and he stops moving. Eager to keep watching you twitch beneath him, but trying not to come too. Not yet, not inside you. He wants to let you come until the shaking stops. 

He looks at you, and focuses on a mole, chosen at random. To focus on something else, than your pussy perfectly squeezing him. When your trembling finally stops, he grabs his cock hastily, just in time before his cum coats the inside of your thighs and your lower stomach, then his heavy body rests against yours.

“Christ, sweetheart… that was amazing,” he says, smiling at you. You kiss and then nestle against his chest. You feel his heart beat hard, then gradually calm down. You fall asleep without even realizing it.

When you wake up, it’s daylight. The smell of coffee rushes into your nostrils. For a moment, it’s like life is almost normal.

You sit up in bed, holding the blanket against you.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says. Smiling, warm. Joel.

You smile back at him, thinking that you would like to wake up next to him every single day, from now on. 

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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[bpmiranda]

Ok but can we get married reader finally leaving her husband for Logan 👀

A/N: fluffy, smut, lumberjack!logan x married reader, 18+ f!reader, angst, cheating, unprotected sex, breeding kink?

first part second part

lumberjack!logan wants you to leave your husband, he promises to take care of you, promises he won’t let him hurt you, and you start to consider it because you’re not exactly happy with your spouse

you married out of convenience, you accepted his proposal because that’s what young girls do and desire, a marriage proposal and a house and her mother was so very happy for her, but it wasn’t right

it didn’t feel right, not like it does with logan who is so attentive and thoughtful and he listens to you rather than tell you what to do or how you should feel about a situation, so you bring up the conversation

“‘course i’m happy,” your husband says, irate that you want to have a conversation about your feelings now when he’s getting ready for bed, “i’m still here, aren’t i?” he says with a small shrug

your heart sinks because you know he’s lying, you know he just wants to avoid the topic of whether he believes you were ready to be married so young, he’s a man of security and you were a safe choice for him

“let’s just run away,” logan whispers as you lay in his arms, breathless and sweaty as he caresses your bare back, staring up at the ceiling while you kiss his chest softly, “you don’t need a thing, leave it all”

you decide that if your husband won’t divorce you, if he won’t hear you out, you could just leave with logan, “is this what you really want?” you ask with big doe eyes looking at him and he brings you up to him

you sit on his abdomen and he caresses your hips as he stares up at you with that little loving smile, “of course i do, you’re everything i want, baby, every morning, you’re the first thing on my mind.”

your heart swells at his words, his honesty, and you nod as you lean down and kiss him, logan returns the gesture as one of his hands comes to the back of your head and his other one squeezes your thigh

“let’s run away then,” you whisper and logan smiles against your lips as he rolls over to settle on top of you, his cock rubs gently against your sensitive clit and you mewl his name, “logan, i love you.”

“i love you, sweetheart,” logan groans as his cock pushes into you, the feeling of your gummy walls around him is a feeling he never tires of and the way your brows knit together is a sight he wants adores

his strokes are slow and deliberate as he watches you fall apart for him, your release coats his length once again, allowing him to easily glide deep inside you, deeper and deeper until you feel him right there

“yes, logan, th-there!” you cry, shaking violently in underneath his toned chest as he kisses your forehead, “don’t-don’t stop!” you sob and he shakes his head, panting over you as he thrusts purposefully

“wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” he breathes out as his cock swells warningly inside you and your eyes lock with his soft, deep green ones as he stares down at you, so taken with you “can i?” you nod desperately

and he comes deep inside you, against your cervix, pulsing in your tight walls while you make out passionately, gasping and breathing hard into each other’s mouths as he milks himself of every drop

logan knows what it means, he’s aware of the responsibility he has taken on, and he couldn’t be more thrilled or grateful that you’re taking that leap for him, that you’re trusting him to care for you

he knows you better than anyone, he knows you in a way he cannot quite explain, but there’s something primal that pulls him to you, urges him to be the one, to be your man, the father of your children

“you’re mine, baby,” logan sighs, enjoying the feeling of how your body gives into him so easily, it’s so natural for you, like you belong to him and have belonged to him for ages before you even met

“all yours, logan, only yours,” you reassure him, not afraid of what might come because you know he’s going to take care of you, he loves you truly and unconditionally and he knows how to care for you

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened @pinkanonwriting

[cherie-doll]

Omg I realise I’m probably flooding your ask box Cherie, so sorry about that.

But gosh today nearly drove me nuts(in a bad way) and I went home and accidentally went back to binge eating by accident.

And so I thought “Hey, what if the COD men have a S/O who binges on food when they are stressed or angry and they don’t realise it until they feel quite unwell, on the edge of puking sort. And then they calm down and feel a bit guilty about ‘wasting’ unneeded food and calories. They’re also worried about putting on weight cuz in the past they did had to go through that process of being teased and went through a process to slim down and control their eating habits.”

Heavily projecting myself here ngl 😂😂😂 Of course, this might be uncomfy for you to write so all’s chill!

Thank again for writing and posting Cherie 💖 your social media presence is always so delightful

Never apologize for sending an ask, I love having my inbox flooded with asks!

𖧧̣̥ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach

Price

He has learned to pay attention to your behavior

You never ask him to buy it for you, you rummage through what's already in the house

It's addicting, and so easy to pop in another cookie, a couple more chips, a handful of m&m's... until the container is empty

Would pick you up in his strong arms when your body starts to feel the effects, whispering softly "oh, lovey" over and over again in your ear until the guilt is washed out and nothing else is stagnant in your mind but his touch and voice

Ghost

He's always been the observer, so he notices before you catch yourself doing it again

Did research when he was alone because it hurt him to see you crying in the bathroom afterwards, hearing your sniffles through the door

Once he found out that it wasn't the food but the behavior that was harmful he started working on tackling that next, with lots of patience and the guidance of a professional

Soap

He knows you likely won't stop until it's gone

And when you come to him, embarrassed of his reaction when he finds out how much food you've eaten only for him to comfort you

Broke it down for you and explained that even if you consumed a lot of calories it won't show overnight, he kept you focused on being easy on yourself

"You're resilient, I know you are. You can do this"

Gaz

When he noticed you being unusually quiet after a social event where foods of many different kinds had been served, he knew what had happened

It's easy to get overwhelmed, he understands you

Knows what foods and drinks will help

Made tea to make you feel better whilst you were lying in bed

"Tomorrow is a new day, and we'll take control of it"

Roach

It's a vicious cycle: going to sleep scared after another day of wallowing in shame, curling up in bed afraid of the next day being the same as the last; painful

The overwhelming emotions and inability to stare at your bare body in the mirror do not go away easily, yet he's always by your side

He makes it your focus on how you feel rather and how you look, and so every day he cooks for you to make sure you're eating and drinking plenty of water

He even accompanies you on your walks and says assures you everything will be fine

[l-in-the-light]

The most embarrassing series of posts about Lawlu you will ever read: edition Zou (part 11)

Let's continue the "love is a hurricane" tale after the small break :D This time we finish up Zou and get ready for hard decisions to be made and undesired seperation approaching!

A reminder that in Punk Hazard Luffy immediately picked up on Joker and inquired Law to know more, because he realized Law is somehow connected to that person. Picture below for comparison's sake:

But on Zou Lufy learns Sanji is connected to Germa and he doesn't care nor does he want to know anything more. Even Nami is slightly taken aback (though it's Luffy's usual behaviour here!), but that's also because she realized for the first time that Sanji was lying all this time to them and she doesn't know what to think about it.

Law is getting special treatment, basically became Luffy's special interest, and he has no idea about it!

Again, Luffy intends to go alone and do his best not to declare the war on Big Mom in the process. That's because he has his alliance with Law and they can't afford an extra side conflict on the way. Now, would Luffy care about any of that, if it wasn't Law he was having an alliance with? My bet's still on "no".

Still remembering Neko Mamushi's name and that's because he knows seeing Neko Mamushi means he will see Heart Pirates and Law if he sticks around, heh.

Now let's look at things from Law's perspective, even if just for the laughs, shall we? He went to see his Heart Pirates, spent some time with them, then relayed a message to Luffy through Pedro that they're waiting for Strawhats to join them (because remember? Heart Pirates can't leave the whale forest!). Law then learns that either 1. Luffy never joins them 2. Pedro tells him Luffy said "later".

So the result is that Law arrives here seeking Luffy (just like Luffy wanted him to, btw), but I wonder what he might be thinking... "how dare you, Mugiwara-ya, I told you to come and you have more important matters?!" or perhaps "Are they in some kind of trouble? Mugiwara-ya is always in trouble, so it's not unlikely, maybe I should go and check things out". Personally, my bet is on a mix of both, seeing his rather unhappy face above when he looks at Strawhats doing some shanenigans with Nekomamushi haha.

And this is the scene that welcomes Law as he finds Luffy and his crew. He's clearly confused by whatever is happening in front of him. And then Luffy notices him like *immediately* and greets him with huge enthusiasm. Because of course he would, he was trying to be so brave and not miss him every second they're apart, and yet that immediate reaction proves us that Law was constantly on his mind anyway and his eyes were always looking around to spot him the very moment he will arrive. Which is exactly what happened.

Now let's take a look at Law curiously holding his sword in both hands, because there's a story there, shown to us only through visual language. His sword was resting on his arm, but for some reason he grabs it after he witnessed all the chaos. Just a moment later it will return back to his shoulder again. Why?

Just take a look at this:

Remember how he did the same thing much, much earlier in same arc? He grabbed his sword when he sensed danger or a stranger approaching them (just like Zoro). This is how he prepares to unshield his Kikoku so he can be ready to attack, if neccessary, but he unshields his sword only when he feels malignant intent. A good swordsman is always on alert, after all!

And he does the exactly same thing when he looks at the commotion around Luffy and Nekomamushi (but he's a bit more cautious here). He sees the ruckus and his first instinct isn't to question Luffy or scold him for causing trouble. Nah, none of that. His very first reaction is to take his weapon and prepare to fight, because if Luffy is in danger, it's his duty to help! Ain't that freaking sweet? :D and all of that shown without any words needed, heh.

"I came to give you an introduction", he says while his eyes aren't even visible, so we know he's telling us bullshit :D (also notice, the sword is back on his shoulder, because Luffy's cheerful greeting put his mind at ease that he doesn't have to attack anyone and that everything is alright!)

Heart Pirates look like they lowkey rehearsed that introduction pose. They remind me of heroes from some Power Rangers show. I wonder if that's how wacky Sora Warrior of the Sea comic is :D because we can expect that if Law is a fan, all of his North Blue crew is as well. They look so goofy and cheerful in comparison to his stoic, cool and broody energy.

Luffy's like "yo!!", because he actually met them already, this is his second time when he sees them and had some interaction with them at Zou, so it's not like he woud need introduction, lol (sneaky Luffy is a mood, I swear). But why would Luffy care if he got a proper introduction or not anyway? After all he didn't do one for Law either! In fact I don't think Luffy ever did any introductions before.

And it's true ever since the beginning of the manga. Nami didn't get introduced to Zoro, Zoro didn't get introduced to Nami (he had to ask her himself who she is!). The best they can get is "this is going to be our crewmate/navigator", no names included. Lol. That also explains why Zoro is so used to Luffy's crap and in Punk Hazard he just stays around Law and doesn't question it, until the guy goes towards Sunny, lol. Just see it for yourself below:

And all of this happened despite Law asking Luffy to "let the rest of his crew know". Usually Luffy not making any introductions slips our minds, because whenever new crewmate appears they're all together so it's not even an issue. But sometimes, we get reminded Luffy didn't really learn manners and this is one of those examples. Law remembers the offense though.

Especially after Luffy told him he would do that. But he never did. LOL.

Just look at those frames right next to each other. Luffy tells them to "get along" (nakayoku), and Law, after refusing to introduce his Hearts crew to Luffy, says the same line but with negation "You don't have to get along". That's his revenge, right there. Luffy didn't introduce his crew to him, so Law is not gonna introduce his Hearts to him either. Ba dum tss.

Luffy is completely unaffected by it, because it's Luffy. The ones who are actually affected are Hearts and they boo their captain for it. They call him out for his bullshit behaviour, which makes me think that 1. they're allowed to complain whenever they feel like (around timeskip they also complained to Law that they want to go already to the New World). 2. Law usually DOES give introductions, because they're completely dumbfounded by this situation.

You all still need more proof this was Law's revenge? :D And if you believe this now, I need to remind you that my deduction about Law's nicknames for Strawhats all the way back in part 4 of this analysis series is probably true as well: he did not recognize Franky, Usopp and Brook, because the last time he checked on Strawhats was around Sabaody and when they returned after timeskip he was already stuck in Punk Hazard, not able to read the newest info on them.

Now let's take a look at this scene, in which Law scolds Luffy for "letting" Sanji go with Big Mom. On the surface level, nothing unusual, right? After all it's just yet another scene in which Law is worried and scolding Luffy. Except that Law never did that before when it comes to Luffy's own crew. Law knows this is an alliance, Luffy is the captain of his crew, he's the one responsible for them, not Law. In Punk Hazard Law made sure to always leave things up to Luffy when it concerned his crew, always doing the "relay the message to your crew" attempt and never telling them anything directly.

But here, in Zou, Law is openly scolding Luffy *in front of his own crew* about the situation with Sanji, a Strawhat. Honestly, it seems like he's stepping here completely out of line. It's almost like Law is part of Strawhats and has the right to be angry at the situation, not just voice his concern as an ally. This is the moment that Law starts seriously treating Strawhats like they are his second crew, imo. There's no artificial distance anymore, no "I'm just allied with them, I have to know my place" frame of mind. Whatever concerns Strawhats is clearly Law's problem as well now. It kinda started already in Dressrosa, when Law told half of the crew to just sail off to Zou, but then the situation was different, they were in danger, it could be seen as emergency situation. Zou though? No excuses here, Mr Trafalgar Law. Are you sure this is just an alliance to you?

Law finally voices his real thoughts here, because he doesn't want Zou to suffer even more than it did already (it is homeland of his friend Bepo after all). And he's throwing back the same argument Luffy threw at him in Dressrosa! Luffy looks like he's actually at a loss here and no wonder, because what can they do? Let's look at things from Luffy's perspective. His crewmate is stuck with Big Mom, they have to go to Kaido but can't yet, and they also can't stay here at Zou because they're putting minks at risk. Their options are very limited and situation is very complicated, Law made sure Luffy understands it. But their talk is interrupted by the minks so we will never know in which direction Law actually wanted to take it (we can tell from Luffy's face that Luffy is not gonna offer any actual feedback here). Or do we have a hunch about that actually?

Let's look at the title of the chapter, with Vivi on the cover (we all know she actually wanted to tell Luffy to "take her with him", but she had responsibilities to the country she also deeply loved, so she's also relevant for this chapter's title!), Luffy asks Pekoms to take him with him... and curiously enough Law shouts at Luffy, making the exactly same face expression. Maybe that's the direction he actually wanted the talk to go? It would fit his personality ngl, that he wouldn't want to leave Luffy to go alone to another Emperor's territory, without any decent plan. Especially because we know how much he worries for him all the time.

Feasting, Strawhats and Hearts bonding happily together. Even Pandaman joined in! Not Law though lol.

Ninja time :D Strawhats really push the agenda that there's no shame in loving ninjas and other cool stuff. They have so many requests too! That must have influenced Law that it's alright to voice his own request as well (but he waits with it, hoping maybe someone else can voice it first, so he doesn't have to, haha). He's murmuring it and it fits him so well, because he's not one to admit too openly how much he wants to actually see it, which makes this scene all the more special. Strawhats, and especially Luffy, really have a good influence on him. Even Zoro joins in, right after Law, probably to show support like a good bro he is.

And Raizou starts his show from Law's request! What a great guy Raizou is <3 Law's impressed face is so funny, especially in comparison to Luffy's and Usopp's, haha.

Law is so surprised at being asked for the help as well. His eyes are like "what? why me as well?". As much as Law likes to be appreciated and recognized as the captain of his own crew, he also doesn't really expect the extra attention he sometimes is getting. Unlike Luffy who is more or less used to it already.

Luffy, surprisingly enough, proposes Momo an alliance. They're not beating up Kaido instead of samurai, they're cooperating together. What's important here to note is that Luffy did that because Momo was begging him, like he's inferior to Luffy, almost like a servant. Luffy stops him, wants him to raise his head and instead join hands. He even makes sure to talk to Momo on the same eye level when he proposes the alliance, because people in alliance are equal. But where did Luffy learn that from?

Perhaps Law, who is always trying to speak to Luffy on same eye level, especially (but not only) when it's about important stuff. There's at least one scene like that in every arc. In Punk Hazard when they're captured Luffy is half-lying on the floor in a stupid position. Law is lying in exactly same way instead of trying to present himself to look cool, like he usually does. Why? Because if he sat up he wouldn't be on same eye level as Luffy. In Dressrosa, Luffy even tries to speak to Law who is lying down on Moocy on same eye level as well, by leaning down as much as he can (which is sweet of him, but not exactly working out in these circumenstances <3). On Zou Law comes closer and talks about stuff with Luffy on the stairs, because it's the easiest way to casually stand on eye level if he just stays one step below. And in Wano, Law also remembers about eye level. He even leans down to speak to Luffy. It doesn't matter that they're quarreling, eye level is a sacred rule, no disrespectfully placing yourself above your Luffy ally is ever allowed!

That's why when Luffy says this, I think Law kinda expects him to finish with different word. "Don't ever bow your heads, don't get down on the ground, because an alliance means we're equal!" is what Law would want to hear, seeing how he acts around Luffy. But he gets a "means we're friends" instead which throws him off so much he can't be quiet about it. Still, he doesn't scold Luffy for this and accepts that if it means friendship then it's friendship, and he does become friends with Kinemon as the result. Even if Luffy got it wrong, Law is gonna follow through with it. After all, he chose this fate for himself when he first proposed Luffy an alliance. If Luffy thinks it's about friendship, so be it friendship. In Law's novel we can see that Law doesn't really have a problem making friends, especially with people he saved before.

But did Luffy actually get it wrong? I feel like he played Law a little here, because Luffy clearly understands what equality is. He pushed Law's boundaries a little bit further to open him up to people. Alliances are nice, but friendships are nicer. And Luffy wants Law to make some new friends instead of keeping himself always at a distance. But since this is Luffy we're talking about, it might also be as simple as him thinking friendship means equality, and actually: he's not wrong about that part, definitely.

And I love how Law grumpily asks Luffy why the latter didn't ask about his own opinion. Luffy is like "But I knew already that you would say yes. Am I wrong about that?", and of course he's not, but he should have still asked anyway instead of deciding for both of them, even if he knows Law well enough already to assume his stance on all of this. It's not just about having faith in another person's beliefs, but it's also important to make sure they're on the same page already. What if Law had some important doubts to voice before agreeing? Luffy couldn't have guessed that.

It's actually like that all the time in their alliance. Law only protests or complains when he wants Luffy to notice some stuff, even if it seems REALLY nitpicky overall. He never does that when things get done (no matter in which way as long as the end goal is met), or when he already agreed to stuff (even if he doesn't like the consequences it led to). There's really just two scenarios in which he minds: it's when Luffy misses the mark about something important or when Law is worried like hell.

Do you think he acts angry here because Luffy already knows perfectly well what Law's own answer will be? Or is he annoyed by Luffy's confidence in Law's answer without even having to ask him first? Or maybe salty that he can't deny? I wonder if he realizes how much Luffy is actually paying attention to him.

And a new friendship alliance is completed :D Law even joins in for "hand bumping" part, because Luffy earlier declared "joining hands" is an important part of making an alliance. They never joined hands in Punk Hazard, but here Law actually listens to Luffy and follows through (despite his own touch-related trauma!).

After they leave the whale, Law seems to be deep in thought. Maybe he's returning back to the talk they had about Sanji's situation and deciding which would be the best course of action now for Law himself to take. Should he go with Luffy? Or would it be better to move on to Wano and just have faith that Luffy can push through without him?

Seems he reached his decision. Faith in Luffy, it is.

Look here. Before the whole earth shaking incident happened Law is far away (and out of frame), but the very moment situation gets unpredictable and dangerous, he positions himself close to Luffy, just so he can protect him if needed. He's also the only one capable of keeping his balance, Mr Steady Two Legs No Matter What Is Happening. Of course in this situation, when no one else can even stand anymore, he knows he's needed more than ever in case something even worse could happen.

Law doesn't say anything, but he is there when Luffy's group is leaving. He also clenches his fist, probably trying to stay strong in his resolve and decision (to go to Wano instead of with Luffy), but you can guess already how Trafalgar Law operates: he's most likely worried af under that stoic resting bitch face. Luffy is unusually cheerful on their parting. It's almost like the callback to their reunion at Punk Hazard, when he flashes Law the most beaming smile we ever saw Luffy do. And here it's the same. I bet you anything the reason is the same in both cases: he wants a certain someone to stop worrying over him so much and he does that by smiling the brightest he can, to show that things will be alright.

Because let's face it, samurais won't be worried about Luffy here (why would they? Kinemon truly believes Luffy to be so very strong!), neither would be the Strawhats crew (they believe in their captain and instead tell Luffy not to worry about them!). But Law? He would worry no matter what, it's just the way he is. That smile from Luffy is so bright mostly for Law.

And then Luffy yeets them off the elephant, and I'm sure it does not help Trafalgar Law to feel less worried, haha. Luffy's idea here is to show Law that he's not gonna waste time and will take the shortest possible route, so they can reunite as fast as they can. It's the same mindset he had in Dressrosa: jumping off the cliff to save them time. And indeed Law probably had a flashback to that in this moment, but he does not hold such fond memory of it like Luffy does, lol. He's like "that idiot is doing it again!".

Suffer Law suffer, because you will never stop worrying about this little dumbass you care about so very much!

[katsona-the-katsequel]

Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad Activity Report

Part 3

5/16 (Sat) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Uh, this is Takeba.

Actually, Tartarus is closed today, and Kirijo-senpai told me, "School take priority over SEES activities!", but it's tough to stay holed up in my room all day, so I snuck out. That being said, I don't really have anything to report.

Oh, I'm lying, there was one thing. Well, Sanada-senpai is a little scary. Haha. Apparently the doctor told him yesterday that he'll be okay to start boxing in about a week, and he's really happy about that.

Of course, since it's before the exams, he seems to be studying properly in his room, but when I went out to the stairwell, I saw him running up the stairs at a great pace. I was surprised and talked to him, and he said that he had been taking a break and couldn't stay still. Do you even know what a break means? But I'm glad he's doing well. Yes.

Well, I don't want to relax too much, so I'll get back to studying. This is Takeba.

5/17 (Sun) - Reporter: Junpei Iori

Well... Good evening, I'm Junpei Iori. I don't really have anything to report, but Kirijo-senpai told me to hold the microphone. I guess she told me to calm down and complain or whatever because my cries from the heart are getting in the way of the wonderful training... but somehow, haven't I lost sight of my original purpose for this activity report?

…Oh, that's right, there's something to report.

No, I don't want to sit at my desk any more this afternoon.

I don't want that to happen! I'm stuck with that feeling.

Wait, I went to Paulownian Mall to change my mood.

Then, I felt some strange tension.

A self-proclaimed "reporter" told me about some strange things happening recently.

She asked me if I had information.

When she said something like "I'll be rewarded if you give me any information," I was tempted for a moment, but then I thought, aren't we just heroes of justice who work in secret? Of course, I said "I don't know," and rejected her. Then the reporter just said, "Oh, okay," and walked away... It's a bit complicated...

5/18 (Mon) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

Well, the exam finally starts today. There's no point in rushing now. I'll just do my best.

However... I know this may be unnecessary, and it may not be the right topic to talk about at a time like this, but I am really concerned about the injury that happened to our physical education teacher, Mr. Aoyama. From what I heard, he had been drinking after work and was on his way home in a good mood when, an accident was caused by a falling sign, but the accident happened just as the day changed... around the Dark Hour.

Well, shadows wouldn't have to resort to such a roundabout means to drop a sign and injure someone. It's probably just paranoia born from the frustration of not being able to return. Forget it.

5/25 (Mon) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

It's Kirijo. The results of the midterm exams were announced today. Akihiko was amazing! Excellent!

He had a hard time returning to the fight, and he seemed to be quite anxious before the exams, so I was worried he might lose his concentration, but he did a great job.

I told him that, but he turned his back on me, saying that he had to do it because it would set an example for his juniors. He's really not honest...

I'm a bit worried about the others. The leader seems to have been doing his best, but Takeba seems to have been staying in her room every day.

It seems she ended up with average results, and Junpei was... unbelievable.

As expected, they must be tired from going to Tartarus and defeating large shadows one after another. Although they look energetic, we need their help, but we can't let our activities affect their studies... We should be a little careful.

5/26 (Tue) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

Seriously... if you're going to make that much of a fuss then you should have just studied properly from the beginning.

Ah, sorry. Just when I came out of my room, I heard some voices coming from Junpei's room saying things like "Pathetic" and "What am I doing?", just pathetic and wondering what he was doing. Well, I guess it's understandable with those terrible test results.

Mitsuru was also quite upset about the grades of her juniors, but this was something that couldn't be helped unless everyone put in an effort. After hearing that shout, Junpei would probably think things through properly next time. Probably.

Plus, we happen to be living in the same dorm.

If push comes to shove, no matter how much he doesn't want to do it, I'll just force my way into his room and make him do some pre-exam practice.

Intensive training...that's a good word. I'm looking forward to the final exams.

By the way, we are still investigating Yamagishi. Let's hope she will become a valuable addition to our team.

5/27 (Wed) - Reporter: Junpei Iori

O-ki-na-wa!

…Oh, no, they were talking about Okinawa's beach opening on the evening news, so I just did it.

I was talking about that, so I just did it.

So, it's Junpei! The sea is really nice. My exams are over, and I want to have some fun, but I don't have any money or time... Ugh, I'm not going to be able to go to the sea for the rest of my life.

I feel like I say this every summer...ugh.

But the sea is nice. Blue sky! Black bikini! White sand! Red bikini! I want to go and play. Oh, by the way, what happened to the new girl? Does she like the sea?

5/28 (Thu) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

It's Kirijo. As always, Iori's report seems... stupid.

Well, from the beginning, I started these reports as just a memo for myself, and I don't have any strict reporting obligations. I'm just going to blurt out what I want to say, and if that makes me feel better, then that's fine.

It's good to use even if you're in the middle of nowhere.

Oh, speaking of Iori, I overheard him talking to Takeba in the lounge today, and it seemed like he was worried about his poor grades. It's easy to tell them to study, but I'll think about what I can do to help them more.

However... I noticed while Iori spoke that Magician's Arcana should have high magical power, so why does Iori's Hermes have such low magical power... Maybe next time, I'll get permission from him and study the correlation between abilities and Persona parameters? It's hard to find samples like that...

5/29 (Fri) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Uh, this is Takeba.

The exams are finally over, and there's some good news that we might even be hiring a new female member, so I should be in a good mood, but I'm in a bit of a bad mood today.

I overheard an unpleasant conversation in the school corridor...it was bullying.

I don't know who they were, but the two girls who seemed to be the bullies were talking about how they'd found out someone's weakness and how funny her crying face was, and stuff like that... and they were laughing out loud. Well, it wasn't an unusual story, so I just thought, "They must be bored," but... I ended up feeling annoyed afterwards.

Right now I have the power to call a Persona, right? Regardless of the type of power, the power is there to accomplish something, right? But even seeing that bullying scene and not being able to do anything...it's pathetic.

Sorry for complaining again. This was Takeba!

5/30 (Sat) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Well, it's Takeba for the second day in a row.

I was wondering what to do, but Kirijo-senpai asked me to keep a record of the matter, so I will continue on.

I don't know if it's related to the bullying issue I reported yesterday, but I found one of the girls I'd heard talking yesterday infront of the school gates this morning.

Yesterday, she was saying things like she was hearing voices and things that sounded like radio waves, so I thought something was a little strange...

However, I don't know the details. I hope it was a coincidence. This was Takeba.

6/8 (Mon) - Reporter: Junpei Iori

I'm seriously dead today... Oh, crap, report, report. Huh...? No, you see, when you get lost in the Dark Hour, your memories are somehow erased, that's common knowledge for Persona Users, right?

Well, it's a bit late now though.

Ugh, sorry. I'm so tired and just want to go to sleep.

Umm, can I just post them all together?

A girl named Fuuka Yamagishi was locked in the gym because of bullying, and ended up wandering into Tartarus. The reason she was safe after being lost for a week was because, while time here stops during the Dark Hour, time there also stops outside of the Dark Hour... or so I think.

When examining the clock on the bike/backup equipment that Kirijo-senpai brought to Tartarus, it seems that you can tell the difference in the movement of time inside and outside... or so it seems. Hmm, it's complicated and I don't really get it.

So, we sneaked into the school in the middle of the night, took the same route as Yamagishi and entered Tartarus, and a large Shadow appeared, but we defeated it with our efforts, um... was there anything else? Ah, that's right. Yamagishi's Persona was amazing. It seemed to have a radar-like function, and can see all the enemy's weaknesses!

Oh, by the way, Kirijo-senpai has an unexpected lack of humor. If I said she was cute, I'd probably get punched. Well, I thought she was hard to get along with, so I've changed my opinion of her a little. Oh, I forgot something important! The large Shadows appear on the full moon! A customer who comes once a month! This is important information!

6/9 (Tue) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Well, it's Takeba. Today, Kirijo-senpai and Sanada-senpai are away visiting Yamagishi-san and their friend Moriyama-san. So, Tartarus is on a break. I'm still tired from fighting a large Shadow, so I'm not in the mood for Tartarus anyway. Oh, did I mention I was watching over Yamagishi-san? But it's not like I'm being selfish or anything.

On the contrary, she was extremely effective in the battle against the large Shadow, and it feels like she might be the strongest. Now she's collapsed from exhaustion because she used all her powers at once, so she's been hospitalized just to be safe.

If I had that kind of power, I guess I would join in... but this time she learned that SEES' missions are life-threatening. It would be great if she would join, but I don't want to force her. Ah, but the leader was quite welcoming and pulled her in...

Ugh, I'm thinking about a lot of things. Anyway, I'm really glad that Yamagishi-san is safe and that we were able to defeat the Shadow. This was Takeba.

6/10 (Wed) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

It's Kirijo. Seriously, if I had taken my eyes off Iori for just a second, he'd have been a complete flop... What a poke. I admit that I do lack common sense in some areas, but... Oh well.

Well, today after I returned from visiting Yamagishi and Moriyama, I did some light sword training.

With Yamagishi joining the team, I will likely be on the front lines as well, so this is training for that.

The fencing club was on a break due to the midterm exams, and I didn't go to club activities as often as I thought because of my Student Council activities. It seems my skills have deteriorated more than I thought. I'm trying to be a little better so as not to be a burden to the hard-working second-year students.

I need to train hard.

Not only the leader and Yamagishi have shown remarkable abilities, but Iori and Takeba also have something special, even though they are still developing. As one of the original members of SEES... I can't lose. Maybe I should follow Akihiko's example and try that "special training" thing once in a while?

6/11 (Thu) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Ah, it's Takeba.

Good news... Yamagishi-san has been accepted into SEES. Kirijo-senpai's invitation seemed a bit pushy, and I was a bit worried she wouldn't accept, but she seemed keen...

For now, Junpei is simply happy. He's a really enviable guy. This was Takeba.

6/12 (Fri) - Reporter: Junpei Iori

Hi, Junpei here! Today is truly a joyous and memorable day! Ahem... congratulations to our newest member, Miss Fuuka Yamagishi, on moving into the Iwatodai dormitory! Hip, hip, hooray! Yay! Cheers to our new friend, Fuuka!

Gulp gulp gulp... Phew! Oh, it's not alcohol. It's just Yotsuya sake.

Well, today Fuuka moved into the dorm, and I'm always excited to meet new people. Hehehe, it's good to have more members.

Yukari-chan seems a bit indecisive, but since they're both women, they'll quickly become friends. I heard that she was scheduled to move into the dormitory tomorrow, but it seems like she couldn't wait. Yeah, that's not bad!

Ah, speaking of Fuuka... It seems like her homeroom teacher, Ekoda, has been punished for this incident, but I guess this was the work of the seniors... Well, even us students were getting annoyed with his nasty remarks, so it was like, "Serves him right!" When I asked Senpai the truth, she grinned and said, "Do you want to know, Iori?" No, that smile was probably many times scarier than when Senpai was angry. Ugh, so scary! I have to make sure I don't say anything unnecessary.

6/24 (Wed) - Reporter: Junpei Iori

Hi, it's Junpei.

Hehe... Ukukuku... well, Kirijo-senpai's report yesterday was about how worried she was about us and it made me really happy, but... there was one thing that really hit the spot.

Umm, the part at the top that says "Takeba, Yamagishi, and Iori should talk to each other"...oh, the leader has been forgotten.

Hey! Ahahahaha!

Oh man, sorry sorry, that was a bit too funny. Well, as Sanada-san said today, I get the impression that he doesn't worry too much and just gets on with things calmly, right? Sanada-san said he doesn't envy him, but honestly, I do.

No, you see, I'm at an age where I have a lot of worries, right? Bad grades at school, worries about not being able to get a girlfriend, I'm on the verge of going bald from all the worries... but I should point out that I'm not actually bald, I just have street fashion.

...

Now, back to serious matters... I appreciate your concern, Kirijo-senpai. Thank you. But at least I am okay. That doesn't mean I don't have any worries... I have to figure them out and solve them myself.

More importantly, are you okay, Sanada-senpai?

Today you seemed worried in front of the boxing club room. You've been working hard ever since you came back, so maybe you're tired?

I may not be able to be of much help to you, but if there's anything I can help you with, please let me know.

6/26 (Fri) - Reporter: Fuuka Yamagishi

Good evening, this is Yamagishi.

I feel like I've gotten used to these activity reports. But when I listen to the records from the past, I think they feel more like a communication notebook than an activity report. Hehe.

But I think it's good. This way, we can communicate our feelings and understand each other.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if that were the case?

Until recently, I was always thinking about how my words were not being understood by the people around me. But it's not like that here. Everyone, is considerate of each other. Even today, the Chairman of the board of directors came all the way out of his way to come... Well, there is a limit to what you can say, though. Phew...

<-PREVIOUS ● NEXT ->

[basilone]

Can I request Benny x Darlene + ⁸⁴⁾ a steamed-up bathroom and cold floorboards, please? 💕

You most certainly can, thank you so much for sending this! 💙 Fair warning for this one, as it is one that packs a whole punch of feelings in it because it's a Benny/Darlene + post-stalag reunion... Also might give a tiny bit away about the state of another pairing in this particular narrative, but the main focus here very much is these two navigating Benny's homecoming.

Darlene shivers when the bedroom’s chill nips at her skin. It hadn’t been this cold when they’d first arrived – the same room they’d had last time when they were at the coast, the same comfortable bed that would get almost too warm in morning – but she supposes anything will feel colder than the steamed-up bathroom she’s just escaped from.

Escaped.

Her stomach twists at the notion. Feels like it’s sinking all the way down to her feet, plummeting abruptly toward the cold wooden floorboards without so much as a by-your-leave. Her hand shoots out before her next step becomes a stumble. She breathes, sharply, in through her nose and out through her mouth, when her fingers lock around the edge of the dresser beside the door.

Escaped is what the brass had said about Lot and Major Cleven, already back on base before all the rest of them had finally been brought home. Escaped, which Darlene supposes sounds like a prize you can win except for the part where she’s seen Lot’s hand shoot out simply to anchor Major Cleven’s trembling fist. Except for the part where they only sleep when lying together in the belly of their plane, but never in their separate bunks at night. She has seen Major Cleven’s body rest between Lot and everything else, as though their prison had created more shield than man out of him, and Lot’s eyes had followed Darlene’s every move through the plane with all the air of an animal that is not used to freedom.

She’s seen the same look in Ben’s eyes tonight.

Escaped wasn’t what they’d said about him. Liberated had been the term – the news, the joy, the pride – when they’d told her he was coming back to England.

Darlene scoffs to herself as she opens the dresser. She supposes it’s only apt to speak of liberation when you are sitting in some office back home, on some plush chair in the United States, ready to tell the people and the President that the boys are coming home. It’s a word to use in newspaper articles all right, becoming harder to stomach with every byline. Her own tummy roils at the thought of someone else telling her that Ben’s free. Liberated. She’s gonna damn well take a swing at the next fella proclaiming that sort of nonsense.

Her hands lock around the softest towel she can find. It’s softer than her hands, which are calloused and worn. Softer than the bedsheets, even, but Ben had met even those with a wonder he hadn’t…

Her fists tighten around the towel. Darlene swallows back the noise that threatens to claw out of her throat. Bites her tongue to stop it from rising again – halt that fucking wail, that horror of grief – and exhales past her teeth. Brings the towel up to her cheek to halt her lone tear in its tracks before it can multiply.

It’s not the place for tears. Not yet. She scrapes her throat. Blinks at herself in the mirror until her eyes stop blurring her freckles and the white lace of her top. Hold it the fuck together, Dar, she almost says out loud, except he’s in the warm bathroom next door and the walls here are too thin. She’s been telling herself she’ll cry later. Has been digging half-moon reminders of it into the palms of her hands since Lot’d come home and whispered a sorry into Darlene’s collar that had somehow managed to sound like an apology for all the goddamn hurt she’d caused. Has been biting it back since her arms had first locked around Benny – around what them damn Nazis had left of him, all bone and cold – and he’d been wet-cheeked enough for both of them already.

She exhales again. Clicks the dresser shut. Swings the door to the bathroom back open before the tears hit after all, welcoming its heat even though it’s gonna make her hair curl and frizz up to stay in it for long.

“Got ya a nice towel,” she announces needlessly, holding it aloft before dropping it onto the small stool beside the tub. “Knew I’d seen it somewhere in that damn dresser, hidin’ behind all them scratchier towels they want ya to use first.”

“You’re messing with their hotel business plan,” he replies, gaze gliding past the towel and straight back to her face. His mouth quirks a little, as if to signify how broadly he would’ve smiled about teasing her some months ago. “They’re going to make you pay extra for using that one.”

“I’d like to see ’em try,” snorts Darlene, vastly accustomed to all the ways in which people try and scam you out of having a good time. “Didn’t work last time we were here”– when they’d used towels like those for means other than a bath, which still brings color to her cheeks if she dwells on it too long –“and it sure as hell ain’t gon’ work on me now. They should be thankin’ us for comin’ back at all, given the damn sorry state of them pillows.”

Ben’s eyes are still soft when he looks at her. Impossibly soft, with some gentle twinkle of humor locked in them after all this time. He looks at her like he still recognizes her, from the top of her head where she’s piled most of her curls right down to her hands which are drawing small circles of comfort onto his skin. Like he still knows how to map every freckle on her skin – she’s seen his eyes follow familiar patterns, lips moving slightly as though the memory of kissing them is coming back to him the longer he looks at her – and like he remembers every detail of her eyes.

His hand is at her elbow, thumbing its crease. He doesn’t reply to her anymore, already drifting again amid the heat of the water and the touch of her fingertips. She scoots closer, as close as she can get without getting in the tub herself, and presses a close-mouthed kiss to the boniest part of his shoulder. Hears the soft rattle of his exhale. Hears the sniffle that follows it, with her lips still ghosting over his skin, with one of her stray curls tickling his collarbone, and silently blames the steam of the bathroom for misting over her own eyes.

“It’s all right,” she murmurs, summoning her last remaining vestiges what George had called bravery and what she’d dubbed foolishness. “Ben, it’s okay”– it’s not, it’s really not, but what the hell else is she gonna tell him? –“it’s all right, hey,” she hushes, leaning over to kiss the tear that’s slipping down his cheek away, “you’re here with me, all right? You’re home with me. We’re in that hotel ya dragged me to on our first weekend pass, that real long one ya’d wrangled without me even knowin’ it.” She smiles at the memory. Lets her smile rest against his cheek before kissing him again. “Thought it’d do us some good here. Ain’t nobody gon’ clock us getting into the same bed here. No write-ups happenin’. Just you an’ me.”

“Not…”

“Yeah?”

“Not a whole lot of use you’re getting,” he murmurs. “Not with… With this. Me.”

Darlene leans back just so she can fix him with the most beady-eyed stare she can muster. “You’re here, ain’t ya,” she deadpans, not even bothering to make it sound like a question. “I’m gon’ be the judge of use, Ben, Jesus Christ. Bein’ here with ya? Having…” She swallows, blinking, and almost curses as she sees the drip-drop of her own tears in his bathwater. “Having you back? Alive? Bein’ able ta… Goddamn it,” she sniffles, rubbing at her cheeks with a trembling hand, “being able ta hold ya? To kiss your cheek, to breathe ya in, to wake up with your arm around my waist? I dreamed about that the whole damn fucking time you was gone, ya hear? The whole goddamn time them Nazi fucks had ya locked up in there, I was thinkin’ about today. About right now, havin’ ya with me.”

“Dar…”

“Don’t talk to me about use, Ben,” she snaps, furiously blinking to stop herself from blubbering about the whole thing. “I ain’t in this relationship with ya just because the sex blows my fuckin’ mind, all right?” She pokes at his chest, unable to bite back a slight grin now that she’s gone and confessed that, and shakes her head as her fingers meet scar tissue that wasn’t there before. “You’re a goddamn idiot, Bernard DeMarco”– she laments, fingertips slipping beneath the water just so she can memorize that new scar –“if ya haven’t realized by now that I fucking love ya, I’d go fight the whole damn world to get to keep ya,” she whispers, hearing him go quieter than ever, “and I’d say yes to marryin’ ya in a heartbeat.”

It takes less than a heartbeat for his lips to find hers in a kiss that makes everything else go silent.

“Darling,” he murmurs, after, voice almost catching on the ache that resides inside it. “Darlene”– he exhales, breath a mere flutter against her cheek –“darling Darlene.” Ben’s lips find that little freckle, high up on her cheekbone, that he’d once proudly proclaimed was his favorite. “I love you too.”

He makes it sound like freedom.

[syrma-sensei]

Somewhere In Your Heart, Ch.5: A Man's Property.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Setting: In the early 80s.

Warnings/Tags: Angst, prostitution, misogyny, power imbalance...

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Soldier boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

When you return to what you call home, you don't expect to get hugged and patted on the back. You don't need either. You just want to be alone and cry in your bed in the seclusion your room provided, wherein you let yourself drown in self pity and bitter heartache. To be in utter bemusement is an understatement; you're still processing the fact that the reason for the shitty life you live is him, and he doesn't fucking regret it. He takes pride in it. You know that much. Sure, he stopped the villains, and saved the country from what they might have inflicted on people, but he seemed to forget what he inflicted upon you and the victims of that incident. He fucking called your brother an obstacle, as if he were a speck of dust.

Your brother was on him. His blood is on Ben's hands, not the culprits'.

You feel bitter bile rolling up your throat. You choke both on it and your tears. Your sniffles are weak and pathetic. Your heart wrings with guilt and self-hatred, for you could still feel him inside of you, for you could feel the sweetness of his touch on you, for you could feel your heart ache for and because of him.

You pull your hair and let out a strangled wail. He fucked you, he claimed you; body, heart, and soul. Your heart is torn between beating for him and being beat because of him.

In one moment he is everything, and in another he's nothing. You love him, you hate him. You want him, you loathe him. Your body ripples with love, hate, sweetness, and bitterness.

You want him in ways you never wanted someone before, your heart raves on for him.

“I won't let anyone take you from me. You have my word for that.”

But his deeds did. He fucking broke his promise before he even made it.

Lies. Lies. Lies.

They're all liars.

They said the criminals killed your brother and set the building on fire. But it was Soldier Boy's order. Jack promised to make you a star, instead he turned you into his bitch. Ben promised to make you his, thus far, you're not sure you don't want him to be lying in the matter, you don't want to be his anymore.

You utter expletives in a hissing voice.

You were an idiot.

You opened your heart for the wrong man. You should've known better than that. Jack warned you about this before, about meddling business with please, about thawing within the inkling of the heart and brains.

You feel a heavy weight encumbering your chest as your heart warps in bitterness.

In your throes of dismay, you curse yourself and your heart for falling for him. You should've never flirted with him at Sonia Vogelbaumm’s wedding. You shouldn't have agreed to sing along with him. You shouldn't have been claimed by him. You shouldn't have heard what you heard. You shouldn't have dug after it and found out the truth; the one who owns your heart is the cause of your misery.

It's been two days since you left Herogasm without a word. You expected he'd come after you and conciliate you, or so you hoped. You assumed you'd get fired from Vought, or so you wished. You don't want to see him again, because you know… you know your heart will betray you and seek the one it throbs for.

Ben ruined you, and for good. It dithers you that you still want him in the deepest of your depth.

You flinch when you feel a hand perch on your shoulder, “Wake up, (Y/N)...” You hear glee in Jack's voice. You groan, stirring in the sheets, then you sit up with an ache both in your head and heart.

You haven't seen him in days, and to say you're not keen on seeing him now, is an understatement. You're in a mess. He won't like it; you just ruined his business with Vought. You're sure he'll wail on you for that.

However, and for some reason, you don't like the bizarre grin on his face as he sits next to you, the remote control of your small T.V. is in his hand. He turns it on and your eyes dilate as you listen to your own voice emanating from it.

Your heart plummets to your toes. Vought dropped the cover song and it's now on every channel. That means one thing…

“The Legend just called…” Jack interrupts your trail of thought.

“What’d he say?” You rub the dried tears from your eyes. Your heart paces up. “He said your collaboration with Soldier Boy has been called off for bad reviews.” You wished he would tell you that. But instead.

“They want you as Soldier Boy's new love interest.”

You gulp hard.

You're doomed.

When you bailed on him at Herogasm two nights ago, he left no stone unturned looking for you. One moment you were dozing off in the bed you two shared, the other one you weren't. You were just gone. It drove him crazy. The fact you disappeared after the promise he made you. How dare you, he simmered with fury; he took his frustration on the guy next to him. The scapegoat was Tommy. He wailed on the kid until Tessa begged for her twin brother's life.

When the word that you went home reached his ears, he received it in a cold bitterness. His face didn't mirror the way his heart was raging and huddling in the mess in his chest. That bitch. He thought with revulsion. You played him like a fucking stupid puppet. And here he thought he shared something real with. He scoffed. You're a complete hypocrite, a tremendous actress (just like himself) and a whore.

He feels like a jackass for being played like that. A fucking pussy. That's what he was; he let his emotions take control for one second and it brought him no good, it only dumped a mess on both his head and his heart.

She's gonna pay. He promised himself. No bitch can do him dirty and get away with it. He's going to turn your life into a living hell.

Now, with a smirk adorning his lips, he watches you and himself on the T.V. singing Just The Two Of Us. He grins at the applause you two earned. Everyone's questioning whether you two are together or not. The chemistry you two share is hypnotic. Every famous channel is raging with his and your pictures, wondering if there's a chance that he left Countess for you. His fans are keen on knowing it, obsessing over his scoop comment.

“Gotta say, she does look pretty at your side.” Legend comments from behind him, “I underestimated her.”

Ben chuckles, “She is a firecracker that one,” And she sets flames in my heart.

“People are gonna love you two together.” Legend drops another remark, “I talked to her manager…” Ben's molars grit, “He’s more than open to the idea…”

“Good.” Ben replies curtly.

That manager needs to be off the picture, and soon. He'll see to it.

Of course, he will omit Jack out of the way. When he's subtly removed, you'll have nowhere to turn to but him. You'll have nobody but him.

“A non-supe lass is the new sweetheart of Soldier Boy. I tell ya, it'll be all the rage in no time.”

“Oh, that I know.” Ben grins, taking a gulp from his drink, befor he adds, “Speaking of which, that fuckface should be out of the way.”

“It’s not gonna be easy,” Legend sighs, “The leash he has on her is too—Ugh!”

With the dexterity and swiftness of a tiger, Ben curls a stiff hand around Legend’s neck. “She’s no longer his bitch. She's mine.” Ben seethes, “And you'll see to it or I'll take it into my own hands and do it myself.”

Legend's eyes flutter as he chokes, “Y-Yes…”

“Good…” Ben unclasps his grip from the man's neck. Legend collapses on his knees, breathing heavily.

Legend considers the option and he opts to carry on Soldier Boy's wishes, because it's always easier to fire a man than covering up for his death.

Your pleas and begging go on deaf ears.

Jack practically has to drag you to Vought's tower to offer you on a golden plate for them and him.

“Please… I'll do anything you want,” You try to reason with him, “Just don't let him have me.”

“I’m sorry, doll, but your price has already been paid.” Jack snarls. Clearly, you're playing with fire, “Now, be a good slut and do as you're told, like you always do.”

As you two make it to the main gates of the tower, you dig your heels into the marble. “Please, you don't understand—!”

His hand is quick to smack tingles in your cheek. People passing by, leering at your scene, some of them exchange looks and most of them just… ignore you.

“You will listen to me, you ungrateful bitch!” Jack growls, “I gave you everything when you had nothing. I absolve you from being a cheap hooker who solicits on the streets. You owe me!” He grumbles, nostrils flaring, “You’ll be my bitch until you repay me my troubles, you hear me?!” He clutches your hair and pulls you down, making you wince.

“Security!” A woman's calls.

And in a minute, two guards wrap their arms around Jack's shoulders and unlatch him from you.

You're in a quivering mess on the floor whereas Jack tries to tug himself off of the guards as they lead him out of the building.

“There’s been a mistake,” He chuckles nervously, “I’m Ms. (Y/N)’s manager. I'm The Legend's friend.”

Just like your words hold no value to him, his don't to them.

You watch Jack kicking his feet and screaming as they throw him out of the gates. Through your tears, you allow yourself your lips to crack a small smile of victory. You allow yourself to let the wound Jack has been leaching on for years to breathe.

Just before it's muffled by Soldier Boy in the next second.

You grimace a tad as the liquid you're swallowing burns your throat, eyes occasionally flitting up and down at him. He hasn't uttered a word since you've been brought to him, which you can't interpret as a good or bad thing. He just stares at you with blank eyes, as if waiting for you to start. But you don't.

“Why?” He says, voice a bit bitter.

“Why what?” You hoarse.

“You know what.” He grumbles.

Of course you know why. Why did you dump me in a fucking orgy? He wants to say, but doesn't. He just fucking stares and it agonizes you. Your eyes brim with tears but you choke on them, locking them in. You don't want him to see you crying. You don't want to be weak facing him. You did once, and look what that got you.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” There's a venomous hint at your tone, but soon enough, the tough façade cracks when he pounces forwards in your direction. His hands clasp on your forearms, fingers wringing your tender flesh.

“Don’t give that shit, woman!” He barks, anger searing in his green eyes like Greek fire, “Why did you bounce on me that night? I demand to know.”

“You don't get to demand anything from me, Benjamin,” You seeth, “That night was a mistake.”

Ben's face falters a bit. A mistake? The promises you two made were just sleazy words that meant nothing? He doesn't believe that. He won't. He can't.

His hands squeeze deeper into your skin and you moan in pain.

“So you want to be that ass fuck’s whore your entire life?”

That's when you deliver a hard slap against his cheek. You instantly regret it; your wrist almost snaps in two from the smack. What's this man made of? Steel?!

You hold your hand closer to your chest, the pain pounding in your joint. But another pain ripples through you as he pulls at your hair backwards, exposing your neck.

“You will learn to show some respect, or I'll snap you pretty neck, understand?”

Tears roll down your cheeks. He's just like Jack. It's the same shit, but a different man. You escaped from hell to another inferno. As an attempt to win his mercy, you give him a nod and a pained moan.

“Please…” You whimper.

“Please, what?”

“Please, sir.”

“Good girl.” He lets you go.

You gasp when you're free of his grasp, shivering at the way he's ogling you.

“Now, I'll ask you again,” He enunciates, “Why did you leave Herogasm that night?”

Because you're my brother's murderer, you piece of shit. You want to say, but instead you answer, “I was overwhelmed; it's not regular for one to witness a supe orgy everyday.”

He smacks his lips, not satisfied with your answer, “You think I'm stupid, dollface?” He quirks a brow, and suddenly comes upon you how handsome he is. Whoever suggested covering his face with a helmet was an idiot.

“No!”

“Then, tell me!” He seethes and you cower backwards which makes him stop. He won't have looking at him the way you look at that fuck. He sneers at himself. Great. His resolve to make your life a living hell is decaying by every second. The tears in your eyes are like acid on his heart.

Ben sighs in defeat, then asks you, more softly this time, “Did anyone mistreat you that you left?”

You shake your head.

Lying. Again.

Ben lets out another sigh.

“Anywho,” His voice regains its stoic rasp, “You’re no longer his,” He speaks, “You’re not Vought’s either.”

He sees something that akin to hope flicker in your eyes, “You’re my property now.”

That gleam is gone.

🦅 Previous Chapter: Unmasked.

🦅 Next Chapter: Coming soon.

🦅 Somewhere In Your Heart Masterlist.

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist.

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin, @demodemo909

@mystic-mara, @jqtaro, @pepsicolacoochie, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @prurose

@leavli, @robertthehoover, @soldiergrimes, @vanessa-boo, @uddiifiigj...

[sunshinerainbowsandlollipops]

[] Word Count: 280 [] September 24 [] Jegulus []

James closed the door behind him with a soft click. He smiled at Regulus’ back and walked to him, wrapping his arms around his waist, glad to finally get to be alone with him. Regulus didn’t move in his arms. Not even to face James and plant a kiss on his forehead like he always did. James frowned. He stepped away and grabbed his boyfriend by the shoulders, spinning him around so they were facing each other. He looked dejected and James raised his eyebrows at the look. It alarmed him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his mind already coming up with plenty of theories. 

“Nothing,” Regulus said. He was clearly lying.

“Regulus. What’s wrong?” James sighed. Regulus looked up at James. There was unmistakable fury in his eyes. James swallowed. 

“You drank instead of kissing me!” Regulus burst out at last, turning away and crossing his arms. James’ face scrunched up in confusion. 

“What?” he asked. Regulus let out an exasperated sigh.

“At yesterday’s party! We were playing spin the bottle and instead of kissing me, you took the shot!” he cried. James stared at him for a second. Then smiled softly at his oh-so-tough-boyfriend’s back.

“Regulus. Darling. Love. Sweetheart. I love you,” James said, walking around to face Regulus. Regulus’ face softened. James continued, “And I really would have kissed you. But that might have also ended up being the last kiss we would ever share, mainly because Sirius would have us both buried six feet under in the Forbidden Forest.” Regulus let out a soft chuckle as he nodded.

“I know,” he sighed, resignedly.

“I know you know, love.” 

James sat down on the couch and held his arms out. Regulus padded towards him and sunk into his arms. The older boy held him close, burying his face in black curls. He really did know that Regulus knew. It’s just sometimes he needed a reminder that James would always love him.

[emberdew]

Be More Ghost Chapter 2: I Love Ghost Hunting

Summary:

A Be More Chill AU where Danny gets a Super Quantum Intel Unit Processor (or Squip) to help him become cool and win over Valerie, but things don't really go as planned.

Masterpost | AO3 Link | Word Count: 1,746

I love ghost hunting because it’s the best! Because it is fun. I love ghost hunting and I get depressed whenever I’m done.

As Danny stood in the doorway, he immediately wanted to turn back. He thought the classroom was going to be empty, but it wasn’t. Valerie was right there in the front row.

“Uh, is this where we meet for the ghost hunting club?”

Valerie turned to face him. “No, this is the play rehearsal.”

Danny turned to go. Valerie called after him.

“Wait, I was kidding, yeah this is the ghost hunting club!”

Danny turned back to face her and nervously sat at the desk next to hers. “Oh, um, cool.”

Valerie smiled at him. “I’m kind of surprised to see you here, Danny.”

“Haha, yeah…” Danny didn’t really want to explain himself. This was a really bad idea. Just being near Valerie made all coherent thought leave his brain. He was shaking a little bit. Valerie noticed.

“Are you nervous?”

“What? No I’m just…” Danny shivered. “I’m just cold.” He rubbed his arms. He wasn’t lying, he did suddenly feel a lot colder. Was the AC broken in this room or something?

“Oh, well it’s okay if you are nervous,” Valerie said. “I’m a little nervous about coming to this club too, but mostly I’m excited.”

“Yeah?” Danny probably should have expected this. She was the Red Huntress, after all.

“Yeah, I love ghost hunting!” Valerie said. “I think it’s the best! I mean, it looks fun.” Valerie didn’t know that Danny knew that she was a ghost hunter, so she was still trying to cover her secret, at least a little bit.

Danny just nodded. He wasn’t sure how he should react right now.

“I’m just really passionate about it, since those ghost scum really need to be eliminated,” Valerie started to rant. Danny looked intently into her eyes, though he wasn’t really listening anymore. Even though her wrath happened to be directed his way, he couldn’t help but love how passionate she was.

“Oh, I think the club should be starting soon,” Valerie said, glancing at the clock above the classroom door.

“Where is everyone then?”

“I guess it might just be us two-”

The classroom door opened and all the A-Listers walked in, chatting loudly as they moved to their seats at the back of the classroom. Mr. Lancer arrived shortly after and stood next to the desk at the front of the room.

“Hello, welcome to Ghost Hunting Club… I’m glad some of you are taking the initiative for this extra credit opportunity.” Mr. Lancer seemed to be staring directly at Danny. He cringed a little bit and slid back in his seat.

“When do we get to hunt the ghosts?” Dash asked loudly from the back of the classroom.

Mr. Lancer crossed his arms. “Mr. Baxter, please wait until the end of my explanation for questions. This club is going to be more about ghost hunting research than field work, since that is best left to the experts.”

Danny saw that Valerie looked disappointed at that information. He tried not to show that he was relieved. Ghost hunting research was something he could probably manage. Maybe this extra credit stuff wouldn’t be so bad.

Mr. Lancer started pacing as he continued. “Your assignment will be to create an informative presentation about ghosts and ghost hunting that will be shown to your classmates in one month.”

Danny looked over to Valerie as Mr. Lancer explained what the club was going to do. At least she seemed excited. Danny didn’t feel great about potentially having to present anti-ghost propaganda.

A shiver ran down his back and a cloud of cold air escaped his mouth. Danny straightened up in his seat and looked around, but didn’t immediately see what had triggered his ghost sense. No immediate threats, but it would probably be good to go check-

Danny’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard Valerie’s watch beeping. Her ghost sensor had picked up the ghost too. He and Valerie stood up at the same time. She glanced at Danny with a worried expression but he looked away and walked out of the classroom without saying anything. Valerie followed behind him.

Danny quickly walked around the corner out of Valerie’s sight and turned invisible before phasing through the door of a nearby storage closet. He heard her walk by as he took a second to wait before transforming and then flying outside.

“Hello, ghost child,” Skulker greeted as Phantom returned to tangibility few yards above the school’s roof. The large mechanical ghost was already pointing a missile at his face.

“Hey, Skulker. Got some new toys from Plasmius?” Phantom asked, whirling away as a missile launched a bit too close to his face for comfort.

Skulker just grinned in response as he fired more missiles. Phantom returned the fire with some of his own ecto-blasts in rapid succession. He was about to aim a blast right at Skulker’s head when a bolt of pain shot through the back of his left shoulder.

He turned and saw Valerie in her ghost hunting suit, floating on her board a few yards away from him. Smoke was still coming out of the gun she just hit him with.

Phantom waved with the arm she hadn’t just shot and gave her a smile. “Red! You’ve come to join the party?”

“You’re going down, Phantom!” The huntress glared at him through her red helmet, not lowering her gun from his direction for a second. Phantom sighed and started dodging around both Skulker and Valerie’s attacks.

He knew she was dangerous and literally shooting at him, but he still thought Valerie looked beautiful as she dove through the air on her hoverboard. Something was probably wrong with him. He felt one of Skulker’s missiles graze his leg as he took a second too long to fully dodge. He shook his head and tried to focus.

“Time to become ghost toast, Skulker!” Phantom charged a bigger blast in his hands and fired at the ghost’s neck. As he’d hoped, the strength of the hit was enough to knock Skulker’s mechanical head off his body, leaving the tiny green blob ghost plummeting to the ground.

With one smooth motion, Phantom grabbed his thermos from where it was attached to his belt, uncapped it, and sucked Skulker in before he hit the ground.

“Got him!” Phantom rattled the now-occupied thermos and then turned to look for Valerie. He winced when he felt the gun touching his forehead.

“And I’ve got you.” Valerie sneered at him. He gulped.

“I… kind of have something I need to get back to, think we can reschedule this?” He grimaced as the gun poked harder into his head.

“I don’t think so, ghost. I’m enjoying this too much to leave now.”

Phantom had to admit she wasn’t kidding earlier when she said she loved ghost hunting. She did seem to like it a lot and was also very good at it. Almost too good at it.

He heard the gun whine as Valerie tensed her finger on the trigger. He had to do something soon!

With a jerky flail, he grabbed the gun and whacked it away from his face and the shot blasted right next to his ear, hitting a tree behind him. He turned invisible and flew at top speed back into the school and into his familiar storage closet.

He sunk to the ground, panting as rings of light appeared from his waist and swept over his body.

“That was too close,” Danny muttered as he checked for any new injuries. Luckily, he had gotten through that fight without too much damage. He rubbed at his sore shoulder, then opened the closet door and started making his way back to the ghost hunting club.

Mr. Lancer didn’t acknowledge him as he walked back to his seat. A few minutes later, Valerie entered the classroom and took her seat again too.

“And that is it for this session. Start doing some ghost hunting research to get ideas about what you’re going to present!” Mr. Lancer concluded the meeting and walked out the door.

Danny grabbed his bag from the floor. He turned to Valerie, hoping to start another conversation with her but was surprised to see Dash standing in front of her desk. Valerie seemed surprised too.

“Hey, Valerie.” Dash seemed almost nervous. Why would Dash be nervous talking to Valerie?

“Baxter? What do you want?” Valerie put her hands on her hips.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize for how you got kicked out of the A-Listers. It’s super not cool that happened to you just because your dad lost his job.”

“Why are you apologizing now? That happened last year, Dash.” Valerie glared at him. He seemed to quiver under her harsh stare. Danny thought Dash was probably feeling the same intimidation he felt when she pointed her gun at him earlier. Man, she was so beautiful when she was angry.

“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to say it now. I think you’re still A-Lister material,” Dash adjusted his letterman jacket, “and I think it’s cool you’re in the ghost hunting club.”

“Really? I didn’t know you were interested in ghost hunting. I assumed all the A-Listers were here for the extra credit or something.”

“No, I am interested. I think it’s cool. Anyway, cya later Valerie.”

“Bye Dash.” Valerie waved and started gathering her things. She had a thoughtful expression on her face.

Suddenly a spike of pain seared his injured shoulder as Dash punched his arm. Danny gasped and turned to look at the bully.

“Hey, Fenturd, someone wrote ‘BOYF’ on your backpack,” Dash said and left the classroom, the other A-Listers trailing behind him.

Danny gritted his teeth and rubbed his shoulder. How did Dash always accidentally aggravate his injuries? Well, at least with the A-Listers gone, maybe he had a chance to talk to Valerie again. He looked back to where she had been but saw she was pretty much already out the door.

Right before she left the room, she turned back to where Danny was still standing by his desk and waved.

“Cya, Danny.”

“Oh, uh, bye.” Danny waved back weakly with his good arm. Valerie smiled at him and left.

Alone in the classroom, Danny got up and started to leave.

“I guess that could have gone worse,” he muttered, trying to reassure himself.

[dangerous-advantage]

(Image description below 'read more' line.)

[Image ID: A four-by-four alignment chart on a white background with text descriptions to the left and to the top of the squares.

The top left description reads, "seems like they'd be good at parenting." The top right description reads, "seems like they'd be bad at parenting."

Then, from the top down, to the left of the squares, the other set of descriptions reads: "excellent child rearing instincts," and "never trust them with a child in your life."

Each of the four squares contains an image of a different character. At the top left is an image of Lan Wangji of the Mo Dao Zu Shi donghua. He sits between the descriptors "seems like they'd be good at parenting," and "excellent child rearing instincts."

In the top right square sits an image of Wei Wuxian, also of the Mo Dao Zu Shi donghua. He sits between the junction of "seems like they'd be bad at parenting" and "excellent child rearing instincts."

In the bottom left square is an image of Xie Lian from the Tian Guan Ci Fu manhua. He occupies the square with the captions, "seems like they'd be good at parenting" and "never trust them with a child in your life."

Finally, in the bottom left square, sits an image of Hua Cheng from the Tian Guan Ci Fu manhua. He occupies the junction between "seems like they'd be bad at parenting" and "never trust them with a child in your life". /End ID]

[pagesofkenna]

coming up with such cool worldbuilding ideas that the reader/player will never get to know about. currently trying to figure out how to hide a planet

[polaroid-petals]

Sometimes my thoughts drift into how lonesome and terribly bored Omori must've felt in those four years waiting in a blank room, my heart starts hurting, and I gotta back out again

[bedforddanes75]

somehow i think closer by nine inch nails is deus in absentia coded but Idk it just makes sense to me like the way i'm thinking about it is waaay too harsh for them but in the same vein it's just harsh enough to be some kind of stereotypical vintage 80s esque kink stuff (girl pls) and i really like when people use kink as a way to express vulnerability and i think it should be used more Actually. i just really like this song

[born-to-lose]

I know the working conditions were kinda shitty and my colleagues and bosses didn't appreciate me enough but damn I miss the bar already 😭

[nerdyfangirlingbooks]

Every now and then I remember the times I would mention to my flatmate that I was thinking of buying myself something reasonably expensive (that I had been eyeing up for months and had budgeted for) and she'd tell me that I shouldn't spend that much money on something I didn't need and it would be stupid etc etc while she regularly impulse bought things that cost at least as much and she would use once (while complaining that she was under a lot of financial stress and couldn't afford <$3/week for 2 months for a rental washing machine when ours broke). She is... perhaps not my first call for financial advice