#And sometimes it was because I didn't do anything when I should have

[k2ntoss]

I need more baby daddy Jason. Maybe sitting at the park watching him with ur kids and hearing the other moms ogling over him

yall dangerously feeding my brain rot and it's giving me a baby fever i do not wish to feed !!!!!!!!!!! but whoever says baby daddy jason you have my heart rn bc i adore that man!!!!!!!!!!!

by the end of the week it was already time for your kids to go out and have a pretty day at the park, jason had been really busy lately so you took the stroller and placed your babygirl on it before calling your boy, living copy of jason when he was a kid and you couldn't want it any other way because both of your babies had those pretty emerald eyes you so adored.

the way to the park was easy, those two kids had a way to be pretty little angels when it came to go out to the park and you loved that because jason would usually catch up with you sometimes when the work was too much and today was one of those days. your little boy was six and your little girl four, which made it a bit hard to have him playing around and keeping an eye on your babygirl but as soon as jason joined you it was time for the girl to also leave your arms.

jason has been an amazing dad, always making sure his kids and girl were just fine, that they had everything they could ever need and want and it was easy to see in the way the little girl giggles loudly when he sweeps her out of your arms and walks to the playground while you sit, keeping an eye on your son and it's easy to hear the small group of moms muttering and giggling close to where you're sitting.

"do you think he's single? maybe divorced... he just came and picked up the girl from her arms" one of the women says and you roll your eyes because you know how damn well jason looks and how easy it is for him to trigger a baby fever in anyone but the small pang of possessiveness and jealousy that stirs in your chest is there.

"he didn't kissed her, i bet she is the kids' mom but they're not together... i should try and get his number," oh, over your damn dead body anyone would even dare to try and getting jason's number but you know better so you sit, looking at your family with a fond smile because now your two kids are held by jason.

you look at him and you can tell he's been working out more recently because he seems fitter, a little less of that dad body he had gotten since your second child was born and you loved how he looked, broad and muscly but there was a little tummy that only made you drool even more for the father of your kids.

you had to endure the comments and ogling from that group of moms for at least half an hour until you decided you had enough. walking over the place where jason was playing with the kids you stood close, looking at him with a smile when he lifted his head to glance at you and the glint on his eyes made you heart flutter, he picked up the kids on his arms and strode towards you with the widest smile ever amd without saying anything else he leaned in to press a tender kiss on your lips.

"hey there, ma," he whispered still close to your face "i missed you..." the words never fail to make your whole body shudder as you stand in front of the love of your life because that's what jason was, flaws and everything he was everything you could ever want.

"missed you too, jaybird... mind if we take the kids for ice cream?" you ask with a soft tone and it's easy for him to notice what's going on when you don't even pull away but stand even closer while looking up at him like a lovestruck teen again.

that's when jason gently places your girl in the stroller and wraps his free arm around your waist before he peppers a few kisses on your neck earning a chuckle from you and a soft 'yuck' from your boy's lips.

"daddy! stop kissing mommy! let's go for ice cream" and the childish protest makes jason smirk, knowing now he had yet to deal with a whole bunch of spoiled babies instead of just you but he wouldn't have it any other way and like that, with his arm still around your waist jason makes the way to get ice cream and you can satisfiedly feel the disappointment in the group of moms that were shamelessly planing to hit on jason.

[fallingformatt]

SINCE WE’RE PLAYING GAMES M.S.

Matt x fem!reader

summary: what happens when you try to cheat your way to win a game of twister?

warnings: SMUTTTTTTTT! unprotected sex, slight bdsm.

word count: 2.5k

a/n: Yall are some freaky fucking fucks… over a thousand notes on my post? Yall are insane, im so thankful for yall dirty minded ass people. I truly did not expect that to happen on my second post ever. And thank you all for almost 300 followers yall are the GOATS!!!

Let me know if I should write a pt. 2 for FIRST GLANCE M.S. available here

post is not proofread

➽───────────────❥

I'm currently at the triplet's house. The sun is setting, casting a beautiful orange hue to the living room where we all are sitting, drinking some drinks, and just talking. The music in the background isn't loud but I can hear it clearly.

"I'm bored, let's do something fun," Matt says looking down into his half-empty cup. "Well I don't have any ideas," Chris shrugs his shoulders. "I have an amazing idea," Nick yells, startling me. "Nick, you scared me, I almost spilled my drink," I say out loudly slapping his shoulder. "Please ask me what my idea is, please, please, please," Nick tries to plead to make us ask him what his idea is.

"So what is ur 'amazing' idea?" I ask looking at him with a serious face. "We're all gonna play twister," Nick says ecstatically clapping his hands together like a kid. "No Nick, we are not playing twister, we're not five," Matt says annoyed. "Oh look I'm Matt, I'm so tuff and boring, I don't like to have fun," Nick mocks Matt, making me and Chris laugh.

"Well I don't know about y'all, but I'm tipsy, there's no way I could play twister right now," Matt says tugging on the collar of his black t-shirt, his eyes from across the room to meet mine, sending butterflies to my stomach.

I've always had a little crush on Matt, but I never really did anything about it, because I didn't want to ruin the friendship between us. I mean yeah, sure I would sometimes tease him, wearing something revealing, making his eyes wander to places they shouldn't, for example, today, I was wearing short, low-waisted shorts and a small leopard print baby tee, but I knew that, me doing something with Matt would probably change the dynamics of the group as a whole, so I left it as is, hoping my crush on Matt would sooner or later die down.

"You're just scared that you'll lose, so I have a proposition, whoever loses takes a shot of vodka," Nick says proudly. "That's the dumbest thing I have heard in my life," Matt says crossing his arms. "Well, as far as I know, five-year-olds can't drink vodka, so who's the five-year-old now huh?" Nick defends his idea. "We all are a bit tipsy so the chances of you winning are fair, you're just a pussy," Nick says trying to provoke Matt. "Yeah Matt, don't be a pussy," Chris joins in. "Okay, that's it, we're playing, and I'm going to win," Matt says and smiles confidently. Nick claps his hands excitedly as he stands up and walks to the pile of board games that are stacked on a shelf above the TV.

"Found it! Y'all are going down, I hope y'all like the taste of losing, because y'all are gonna be licking the L's shortly," Nick says with a devious smile. "Okay, this one's clearly had more than enough to drink," Matt says as he facepalms.

Nick sets up the game, laying the playing pad down on the floor and placing the spinner next to the mat. "So, who wants to go first?" Nick says grinning. "I'll go," Chris answers and bends down to spin the indicator. "Right foot on red." He says out loud and steps on the playing mat. We all take our turns and the game is starting to get intense.

"Nick you are going to lose," Matt says his voice getting higher at the end of the sentence. The poses we are in are criminal. We are four, grown adults standing on this little mat, meant for children. At this point in the game, the slightest movement could make us all fall down. "Chris, you look like a deformed frog," I say as I'm laughing, almost snorting. Chris's right foot is still on red, his left foot is on blue, his right hand on blue, in front of his left leg, and his left hand is in front of his right leg. Nick is chilling in a comfortable position, meanwhile, I'm stretched out, so close to fall.

We all spin a few times. When all of a sudden Chris loses his balance and falls. "Hah, it wasn't even your turn, you're out, take a shot," Nick yells, happy that he's still in the game. "This is so annoying, 100 bucks on Nick falling next," Chris says as he takes a shot of vodka. I'm now in a compromising position, both of my hands are on red and my feet are on green and yellow, my position is leaving my ass high up in the air. Nick is now barely staying in the game.

"Nick it's your turn," Chris says out loudly, the alcohol he's had, making him unaware of the volume he's speaking in. Nick spins the spinner, "right hand green," Chris says. As Nick tried to move his hand, he lost his balance and fell. "Fuck," he yells out as he stands up. "Where my money at?" Chris says as he hands Nick a shot of vodka.

"Spin it," I say to Matt, and he does. "Left hand red," I say and Matt starts to move his left hand. Now both of his hands need to be on red and the only place in order for him not to fall is on either side of my hands. As he moves over me he brushes against my ass making me lose my balance slightly. Placing his hand next to mine, his head is now next to mine, "sorry," he says quietly, his hot breath brushing against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

It's now my turn and if I don't think of something quickly, I'm going to lose. I look over my shoulder to see what Chris and Nick are doing, they are currently in the kitchen getting some drinks. My lips move making a small grin, this is perfect.

As I reach for the spinner, I pop up my ass, making it brush against Matt's crotch. "Right hand red, looks like I'm safe for now," I say as I turn to Matt, a smirk appearing on my lips.

After taking my turn, I move back, again brushing against his crotch, now feeling something hard. "Don't do that," Matt says in an almost moaning tone. "Do what?" I say looking at him. "Don't try to act all innocent," he says in a serious tone. "It's your turn," I say, a smile plastered on my face.

Matt takes his turn and spins the spinner, "left foot green," He says, looking at the spinner. As he tries to move, I once again pop up my ass, making him brush against it once again, the tension on his crotch getting too much for him, making him lose his balance and he falls. "Ha, I win," I say as I stand up clapping my hands together. Nick and Chris rush over to the living room.

"Did Matt lose?" Nick asks. "Yeah because she cheated," he says, anger and frustration can be heard in his voice. "What did I do, that counts as cheating?" I ask, raising one eyebrow, as a smirk creeps on my lips again, knowing he can't say anything without explaining him further. "Nothing," Matt murmurs. "What's that? I couldn't hear you," I tease him. "I said, nothing," Matt raises his voice, standing up and storming off to his room.

"I am too drunk for this," Chris says throwing up his hands as he turns around and heads to his room. "Can you help me clean this up?" I ask Nick, and he nods kneeling down.

We cleaned everything up and put the game back in its place. "You ready to head to bed?" Nick asks. "You go, I'm going to come later, I'm going to check on Matt," I say as I start walking to Matt's room. "Goodnight Nick," I say smiling. "Goodnight." He answers.

Without knocking I open the door to Matt's room. "Hey, you okay?" I ask as I look at him. He's sitting on the edge of his bed looking straight at me. "I was waiting for you to come in, want to play a game?" Matt says. "Sure, what game?" I ask unsure what game he had planned.

"Since we're playing games, let's play a game you can't cheat in," he says a smirk creeping on his lips. "Simon says, close the door," Matt says. Oh shit, we're already playing. I close the door not moving an inch. "Simon says turn around and lock the door," his voice getting deeper. I do as he says. "Simon says turn back around and stand in front of me," he says. As I turn around, about to walk in front of Matt, my eyes meet his, his eyes grow dark and his lips form a slight grin.

"Simon says strip," he says his tone getting even deeper, a hint of lust accompanying his voice. "What?" I ask, my voice slightly trembling. "You heard me, Simon says strip," he repeats. I start off by taking off my baby tee throwing it on the ground leaving my upper body fully naked. I slip out of my shorts, letting them fall to my ankles before stepping out of them. I pick up my head to look at Matt, he stares me up and down licking his lips.

He stands up and walks closer to me, his hands move my hair to one side of my shoulder, then proceeds to leave a wet kiss on the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His hand reaches over my body, touching my neck as he stands behind me "Left hand red." He says as slides his hand down my neck stopping at my breast. He massages my boob, pulling on my nipple making me moan.

"You like that?" He whispers in my ear. I don't answer. "Simon says answer," Matt says as his other hand slides down into my panties, pressing his finger against my clit before rubbing circles, making me moan. "Yes Matt I like that," I say as I throw back my head resting it on Matt's shoulder. He pulls out his hand, "Simon says turn around," Matt says and as soon as I do, he smashes his lips onto mine.

Matt wraps his hand around my waist taking small steps, leading us to his bed without breaking the kiss. I brush against his clothed cock, rubbing it slightly before I feel a slap on my hand making me break the kiss, I look up. "Nuh uh," Matt says shaking his finger, "Simon didn't say," he smirks and pulls his black t-shirt over his head throwing it to the ground next to my clothes.

He removes his belt, sliding it out of the belt loops of his oversized jean shorts, making them slide down a little, revealing the band of his boxers. He looks at me before moving his gaze to my hands.

"Simon says, extend your hands." His voice was demanding, I brought out my hands, and he grabbed them and put them together before wrapping and tying them together with his belt.

Matt puts his hand on my hips pushing them back, guiding me backward. As I take steps backward, I eventually fall on his bed. He crawls on top of me, spreading my legs with his knee, making space for himself.

He yanks up my hands by the tied belt, pinning them above my head, immediately, Matt attacks my neck with his lips, leaving a trail of kisses from my neck to my breasts, he kisses softly, slipping in a few bites. His hand slides up my thigh, stopping at my heat, his thumb starts to draw circles on my clit.

"Matt," I moan out. "Shhh, we don't want Nick or Chris hearing us do we?" He says looking up at me, taking his lips off of my breast. I shake my head in response and he smirks, "good girl," he says as he continues to rub circles on my clit his lips now moving back from my breast to my collarbone to my jaw before meeting my lips.

"Matt," I moan out as I try to pull my hands out of his grip. "Matt what?" He says as his hands push harder on mine, making sure I can't move. "Please, I need you," I whimper. He lets go of my hands and pulls away from my clit, making me let out a whimper from the loss of contact.

I immediately bring my hands down to my clit and start rubbing circles on my clit, pleasuring myself. As he unbuttons his jeans, he notices my hands, he grabs and pins them above my head again. "Are you gonna make me punish you?" He says his voice filthy and dark. "No," I say, shaking my head and looking at him. "Yeah, be a good girl for me," Matt says practically growling.

I move up and down my hips trying to get some relief as I watch him undo his jean shorts pulling them down, his boxers with them making his cock spring out, hitting his lower abdomen, precum glistening on his tip. Matt looks at me, "see what your little strategy to win did to me," he says raising his eyebrow.

"Please Matt, I can't take it anymore," I say as I scoot closer. Matt moves on top of me pinning my hands again, his other hand sliding my panties to the side before aligning himself with my heat. He pushes his cock in slowly before pulling it out almost completely, then pushing back in hard. "Oh- my- god- Matt-" I moan out between thrusts, his hand moving over my mouth to muffle my moans.

Matt fastens his thrusts, with each thrust going in deeper, making me moan out loud, he leans into my ear. "That's it, sweetheart, take my cock so good," Matt growls, pushing in me deeper than ever, his tip hitting my g-spot with every thrust. "Mmmm Matt you feel so good, I'm close," I moan out feeling my climax creeping up tension building in my stomach.

Matt moves his elbow next to my head, positioning himself so he's able to thrust even deeper. I arch my back as the pleasure takes over my body. His quiet moans landed in my ear, his hot breath sending me over the edge.

"Matt, I'm about to cum," I moan out. He smashes his lips onto mine in order to contain my moans as he plants a few more thrusts before I feel my walls tighten around his length, feeling the knot in my stomach releasing, my climax coming over me, I moan into the kiss. His hips continue to move as he thrusts in me a few more times before planting his cum inside me groaning, breaking the kiss.

He pulls out falling next to me, turning his head to look at me. "Who won?" He says smirking. "I did," I answer smiling, knowing this will piss him off. "Can you untie me?" I say as I shake my hands. "You didn't say Simon says," Matt answers teasing me back. "Simon says round two," I say as a devilish smirk appears on my lips.

I guess I won't be heading to Nick's room tonight.

[auteurdelabre]

SO MUCH TO LOSE CHAPTER 14

words: 13.5k

rating: 18+

tags: mentions of trauma, smut, soft!Joel peeking out, LGBTQ2 themes, mentions of skin harm. idiots in love, mutual pining.

a/n: Hey y'all - 13.5k words (yeah) a LOT happens in this chapter so I suggest you take your time reading. And if you liked it, comments are really the thing that touch me most. They make me write. When I see a lack of engagement it makes me wonder if I should bother goin' on. I think most authors feel like that you know? So consider commenting and re blogging to keep your creative artists bein' creative! I'm going on vacation in a few days so that's why I'm posting now since internet will be spotty! Enjoy!

MASTERLIST HERE

Chapter 14: Coffee-Flavored Kisses

Jennifer knocks on your door early the next morning, looking expectantly at you as you greet her. She doesn’t return your smile; instead she pulls her coat tighter around her, not quite meeting your eyes.  

"Can I grab my cake? I told some of the ladies I'd have them over for coffee this afternoon." 

She seems strangely closed-off, her mouth thinned and you suddenly realize why. 

“Oh shit, I forgot to bring it by,” you say feeling embarrassed at the oversight. “Come in, I’ll grab it for you.”

Jennifer still looks upset when you return, attempting to hand over the cake on a plate to her. She makes no attempt to take it, instead she lingers at your door, looking unsettled. Something is wrong and clearly it has nothing to do with the delivery of her cake.

"Is everything okay, Jen?" You place the cake on the stand by the door, your hand braced on the door. Jennifer takes a deep sniff, her eyes blazing.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Huh?"

"Margaret said she saw you going to Joel's the other night with the cake you made." Her cheeks are blotchy. "The one you said you were making just for practice."

A stone settles in your stomach, making the rest of your body run cold. You swallow, blinking. Jennifer twists her mouth to the side. 

"Anything you want to tell me?"

Fuck.

Tell her it wasn’t you. That Margaret was mistaken.

Tell her that it’s not her business.

Tell her the truth.

"It was for Ellie."

Jennifer hadn't been expecting that. Her brows knit and all that tightness in her upper body leaves her. 

"What?"

"Ellie invited me over for dinner that night. I made the cake because she asked me to."

You watch as the fury leaves Jennifer's body, like a balloon deflating before your very eyes.  

"But... But why didn't you just tell me?"

"You know how Ellie is, she's private," you say, hoping the half truth is enough. "I never know how much to share with other people."

Jennifer's face blanches and she covers her cheeks with both hands. You see the regret and humiliation overtake her, washing her body until all that remains is a lingering pink at her previously pale face.

"I'm so embarrassed. I'm so stupid." 

"You're not stupid," you comfort her, guiding her to your table. You slide her cake in front of her, iced beautifully.

"I added some strawberries on top for you."

"Of course you did, because you're an amazingly thoughtful friend and I'm a total bitch."

Jennifer looks so disappointed in herself. It makes you want to hug her, but instead you take the chair opposite her. 

"Its fine, it happens."

"I just hate the thought of being lied to,” she says, glancing at the cake admiring the details. 

This is your chance. 

Tell her. Tell her everything. 

But what is there to tell? Nothing! Joel plays hot and cold. He's not interested in a relationship so what's there to tell? That he uses you for sexual release sometimes? The thought of admitting that out loud feels humiliating and it solves absolutely nothing. 

“I understand.”

"Please forgive me," Jennifer begs, looking at you with limpid eyes and a pang goes across your chest. 

"There's nothing to forgive."

///

Patrols with Joel that day start out nondescript. He’s neither unkind or demonstrative as you both ride towards Teton. You both simply do your job; you paying attention to your surroundings as you go whereas Joel is unusually quiet; his dark eyes scanning the horizon.

Your gun feels heavy on your back today and you surmise it must be because you spent the entire previous evening tossing and turning after he left stumbling towards Rancher Street. He made no mention of it today and part of you wonders if he even remembers. He looked pretty out of it and you don’t feel like reminding him. What good would it do?

Joel glances back at you, catching your eyes on him and gives you a hint of a smile before turning back. Your stomach flips uncomfortably.

You’re getting confused about Joel.

Sometimes you can’t stand him. You find him utterly horrible at times, but then there are these moments, these pockets of sweetness that make you think the former is an act. A front that he puts up to keep himself safe.

You can relate to that.

Even though your front is more passive, more quiet and withdrawn compared to Joel’s hardened exterior. You learned to zig while he learned to zag. He is loud and strong and scares people off, like a dog who barks and bares its teeth at those who encroach. You’re the cat outdoors for the first time, curious and frightened, taken to hiding behind bigger animals for protection. It was always that way, hiding behind your mother’s legs at daycare because you were frightened. It’s why Charlotte meant so much to you, because you were the one she stood behind, you were her protector.

You wonder what turned Joel into this person. Yes, he lost his daughter in a terrible way, but there’s something else there in Joel. Like a match waiting to be struck. Like he almost wants the pain. Was it there before Sarah? Or does it have something to do with Ellie?

Before Jackson City your softness had never been seen as a hindrance. It was your father who sat with you and your sister, helping you practice how to make those folded paper flowers you'd seen in a donated book. Your father who encouraged your soft side, who didn't want you hardened by life more then you needed to be.  Part of you is thankful to him for caring; the other part hates him for not preparing you better. 

You wonder what he would think of you now.

At lunch you feel Joel’s eyes lingering on your downturned face and you raise your gaze to meet his. Instead of looking away he simply continues to stare. You swallow your sandwich before raising your brows in question.

“That was real nice of you to make that cake for Ellie.”

“I love baking,” you shrug, feeling shy but pleased.  

“You always baked?”

“Since I was younger. My mom taught me.”

Joel tilts back in his chair, rubbing at the back of his neck and rolling his shoulders. He’s sore.

“You said your Mama was visiting her sister out near here during the outbreak?”

“Yeah.”

“You radioed the QZ’s around here?”

“All of ‘em,” you admit. It’s what you’d done your first months here, trying to see if there was even a hint that your mother was still alive and thriving in one of the nearby communities. Nothing had been turned up.

Joel is quiet, thoughtful as you continue eating. Your mind is stuck on something though, something that’s been skipping around in your brain like a CD with a scratch.

“I thought you and Ellie knew each other for a while considering how close you are. But you seemed just as surprised as me about her birthday.”

You’ve known Joel for not that long, but you can see it in the way he holds his mouth and shutters his lids that what he’s saying next isn’t the whole truth. He doesn’t look in your direction, fixated instead with something on the floor.

“We went through a lot,” he admits. “I was, uh, well I was supposed to take her to a group. A medical group because, you know, she’s immune. And they couldn’t help, uh, so I brought her here.”

He’s lying. It’s there in the way he searches for words, groping for them like a person blinded in the dark.

“And the truth?”

You mimic his words from Ellie’s birthday. If he catches it, he doesn’t say anything. But he does belatedly flick his gaze over to you. His eyes grow cloudy and it’s like you see the physical wall that he puts up. Joel frowns, going to hoist his gun over his shoulder.

“We better get goin’.”

You ride back to town in near silence, stopping at a familiar part of the forest with the horses. It’s the time of the month to check the traps; your least favorite part of the job. You swallow as you hitch Chestnut to the nearest trunk before following Joel into the dense underbrush. Limbs of trees loom above you like interlacing fingers, casting the woods in a semi darkness.

“Go on ahead,” Joel says gruffly.

You don’t know why he suggests it, but you feel safe with him behind you. Not as safe as when he leads, though. But you surprise yourself with knowing exactly what trail to follow.  Your fingers absently plays with the hem of your jacket, your eyes darting from place to place nervously, landing on rocks and stumps and finally the traps.

“Empty,” Joel announces in a voice that holds no reflection of how he feels about it.

You’re delighted; an empty trap means no clickers or raiders nearby. It’s a good thing.

“Wait,” Joel says from behind you. “I heard something.”

And before you can think rationally, that icy hand of fear is sliding up your middle to curl its fingers around your throat. You freeze, your eyes blowing wide and your body starting to tremble. All your lessons with Jennifer, all the advice Joel gave you; everything is gone in that instant. Your hearing dims and your feet stay planted even as Joel urges you to move forward with his elbow.

But you can’t. The thought of something jumping out at you has you completely paralyzed. Your body can’t even tremble, it’s so stiff. Every limb is too heavy, like they’re stuck in cement. Everything in your brain screams that you need to move, but rational thought is gone. The ability to move your body is gone. All you can do is stand there, terrified with your bladder threatening to release itself.

“Move.”

There, the sound of his rumbling timbre is in your ear and for a moment your limbs seem unstuck. Like his voice is that magic key to unlock the chains you’ve self inflicted yourself with. You lurch forward like Frankenstein’s monster, your body stiff and shaky.

“What the hell is goin’ on with you?”

Joel has come around to your front, facing you with a knit of his dark brows. You can only stare at him, like you have locked-in syndrome. His voice is firm and vivid, but the rest of him is wobbly, like he’s a mirage.

“J-Joel-“ you manage to grit out, “the raiders-“

“There’s no fuckin’ raiders,” he snaps, irritation flooding his features.

“What?”

“There’s nothin’ out here,” he repeats, shifting his gun back over his shoulder. “You said you’d been havin’ lessons, I wanted to see how you’d gotten on. Not very well, you didn’t even get your fuckin’ gun out.”

A mixture of deep relief and deep anger slithers through your body, drowning you in a shaky mixture of adrenaline that has you placing your palms to his chest and pushing harshly. He stumbles back, surprised.

“What was that for?”

You shake your head, hating the tears that come to the forefront. Not because you’re sad, but because you’re so fucking relieved nothing was actually out there and so fucking angry that he would pull that.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

You hate how shaky your voice is as you ask him. You expect him to come back with his customary ire, but instead he keeps his voice even, taking a step back to you.

“You said you wanna stick with patrols, so you need to toughen up.”

“You’re just doing it for some power trip.”

“No, I’m not.”

You want to slap him. But instead you turn away from him, heading back to the horses. You’re barely two steps away when you feel his gloved hand grip your elbow, tugging you back to him. You skid along the snow, wrenching out of his grip and facing him.

“You do this because you like being in control.”

"No, I’m doin’ this because if you don't prep yourself you'll let the fear get to you when it really counts," Joel snaps back. "You can't let the fear run your life."

Now he slides past you, finished with the conversation. You hate it when he does that. You follow him with a sullen scowl, furious and humiliated. You hate that he pulled that shit on you but you hate it worse that you failed such an easy lesson.

"Lots of people are afraid, Joel." 

You tell this to his broad back, not expecting him to answer. But he stops, turning to look at you full in the face.

"And it's good when it's useful. But yours ain't," Joel looks frustrated. "When you freeze up there's no way of escaping. No way of thinkin’ clearly. You gotta push through it or you’ll get killed." 

"Easy for you to say." 

"No. It's not." Joel's eyes spear you in place.  

For a moment you falter, unsure of what he’s getting at. When has Joel ever panicked? When have you seen fear overtake him? That night of the snowstorm he headed out by himself with only a gun and his wits. Joel would never understand what it feels like to be afraid.

"Joel you're tough. You're strong and good with a gun and-"

"And my daughter is dead because I got scared.”

You stop whatever you were about to say next with a sharp glance his way. For a moment the two of you just stand staring at one another as your stomach hollows. You’re not positive you heard him right, but you just know that you did. You say nothing, waiting to see if he’ll continue. 

"I know what debilitating fear is." Joel swallows. "And I know that fear is why my daughter isn't here now."

Suddenly it all clicks for you as he says that. The frustration he holds for weakness, for fear, for anything that can't protect. Everything hits you and the realization nearly takes your breath away.

Joel shifts from foot to foot, blinking rapidly. It’s the first time you’ve seen him near tears and the sight of it cracks something in you. You step closer to him, your voice and expression soft and imploring.

"Joel, you don't actually think that's true, do you?"

"I know it is," Joel tells you flatly. "If I'd just acted instead of standing there, terrified outta my fuckin’ mind then Sarah would still be here."

"I don't believe that."

It flies out of your mouth without thought. Joel eyes you.

"You weren't there."

"I didn't need to be," you insist, voice firm. "Everything I've seen in you and heard about you from everyone who knows you lets me know that you did everything you could for your daughter." 

"You weren't there," he repeats. 

“Tell me what happened.”

You’ve never been this commanding, this forward with him about Sarah. It’s been one of those topics you danced around, avoided. But right now it feels imperative he open up about her. You’re relieved when instead of scowling at you he just slumps his shoulders, his lower spine against the tree.

“We were runnin’ and this soldier came up and he shone this light on us and I said the wrong fuckin’ thing, I said my daughter’s hurt, her ankle. I didn’t say she just twisted her ankle. They thought she was bit and. . . I . . . I just stood there, terrified. I just said okay. I said we’re not sick. I didn’t fight. He raised the gun and-“

Joel breaks off, twisting away from you. He’s not crying, but he’s also not far off. You can only see his profile, blinking, starting at the trees. From this angle you can see the scar near his temple, the one that his curls normally cover. He must have received it during the same terrible moment he lost his daughter. A forever reminder.

You know that he’s not even your friend, just a colleague at best and yet. . . more than that. He’s a human, he’s a human who has lost someone he loved more than life itself and you can relate to him on that. It’s what makes the words spill from your mouth.

"Joel, I know that if you loved something you'd protect it with everything you had." 

Joel’s profile shifts and he stares at you a long moment punctuated only by the occasional blink. 

"You don't know me."

You don't reply to that. He's right, you don't know him. He's wrong because you feel like you might.

You're confused because the pain in his expression almost hurts you to see. Like it stabs your stomach from the inside.

"Could you have done anything different? Really?" You watch him shift his weight from foot to foot. "If you could go back in time to that moment, could you have honestly done anything that would have saved her?"

As he stares off into middle distance again you know that he's replaying that horrible moment in his mind, trying to see how he could have escaped, protected Sarah, done something different. When he doesn't say anything for several moments you prompt him. 

"Did you have a weapon?"

His sigh is heavy. "No."

"Did the soldier?"

"Of course." 

"It was a shit situation where you had no weapon, your daughter was injured and you were outgunned. Tell me how any of that is your fault."

Joel says nothing, but you can see the curl of his fists. And suddenly you don't want him to talk anymore. You don't want that haunted look in his eyes to move into the rest of him. You want to repair him, to sew his inner wounds and bandage his heartache because no one deserves to lose their child; no one deserves to live with the kind of guilt he does. 

Joel stalks off, coming to stand by a nearby tree. His palm rests on its trunk and you watch as his head tips between his shoulder blades. Everything in you warns that Joel is in immense pain and that he doesn’t want to be bothered. Like a bear with a splinter in its paw, if you go up to him right now you’re going to get hurt by his snapping.

But your feet are guiding you to him, your eyes wet and when Joel hears you approaching he turns around, looking confused. He raises his arms up, making a small noise in his throat when you throw your arms around his middle. 

He goes stiff in your arms and it feels like you’re embracing a marble statue.

"What're y-" Joel starts but stills as your arms continue holding him in place, your cheek resting on his sternum gently.

"Please just ..."

Your words fade out as you squeeze him softly, pressing your face into his chest. You try your hardest to pour all the care and the compassion that you hold for him in that moment and pray he feels it through his clothes. Tears are slipping down your cheeks as you imagine the pain he’s going through.

You're surprised when he responds, his muscled arms going to wrap around your shoulders, holding you against him. You can hear his heart under your ear, picking up in tempo, likely terrified of this showing of this emotion to you.

“I understand, Joel,” you whisper, your voice trembling. Because you do. You know the guilt of failing in your role as protector. You know the guilt of carrying on while others don’t. And so you hold him without judgment, without reservation.

You close your eyes, touched when you feel his chin rest on the crown of your head.  The two of you stand in the dense forest, embracing tightly to one another. You think it might look strange to anyone who might come upon you, but in this moment it feels right.

“You did everything you could," you murmur against the buttons of his jacket, the two of you held in this position a moment longer.

"Wasn’t enough," Joel says in a voice thick with emotions. It rumbles through his chest into your body, and your hold him a little tighter.

"It was enough, Joel,” you sniff. “You’re enough, I promise." 

///

"Wait, there are how many other flavors?"

"Tons. I remember we had this peanut butter crunch thing," you tell her with a dreamy look in your eyes. "And cheesecake and mint and-"

"Cake in ice cream?" Ellie interrupts. 

"Yeah," you nod before shrugging. "And they had stupid names like Wavy Gravy and Chubby Hubby."

"That's fucking stupid."

You nod in agreement. You've been talking at length with Ellie about ice cream as you drink your milk and pick at your muffin the morning after patrols. You’re waiting to see if you can find Penny and Arthur this morning at breakfast. You want to introduce them to Ellie. 

“Why did they call them those names?”

“Marketing.”

“Huh?”

“Tricking people into buying things, basically.”

“Oh.”

Ellie seems satisfied with this explanation so you don’t keep going. Sometimes she exhausts you with all her questions about your life before. She asks you things you realize she’s never experienced and part of it saddens you. Sometimes you don’t like to think of all you had before, with your house and family and horse riding lessons. You’d been blessed in many ways.

After your experience with Joel yesterday the two of you had been strangely quiet on the ride home, the sound of the horses hooves and the nature around you the only noise. You still followed dutifully as Joel scanned the surroundings, but the two of you felt tense. Like Joel had shown you his underbelly and was anxious about it.

You slept horribly again last night, only to be awoken this morning by an excited pounding and Ellie reminding you that you were going to take her to the dining hall to see ‘the tattoo guy’.

So now you sit drinking coffee, thinking about Joel and Ellie and confused because you think there’s something about Joel that calls to you. A secret pain that you recognize and accept in each other.

“Is that her?”

You break from your thoughts, eyes focusing on Ellie who’s nodding her head at the door to the dining hall. You glance over your shoulder to see Penny walk in; her shock of red hair on her head and her tattoos peeking out from under her sweater, creeping onto her hands and up her neck.

“That’s her.”

You stand up, walking over to Penny and explaining that you brought Ellie. Penny is altogether delighted to bring her meal over, sitting across from Ellie and fixing her with a cracked smile like the two are old friends.

“So you’re the one my husband’s gonna stab, huh?”

Ellie nods and smirks a bit at that, as do you when you take a seat next to her.

“And where’s it gonna be?”

Ellie’s hand goes to tug the sleeve of her sweatshirt. In a panic you almost go to stop her, but when Ellie pulls up her sleeve you can see the skin where her bite used to be is now mottled and an ugly red.

“What happened there?” Penny asks, eyeing the scarring.

“S’a chemical burn,” Ellie explains coolly. “Got it a few weeks ago when I was doing custodial.”

Penny casts her eyes to Ellie, narrowing them. The girl holds her gaze, almost defiantly. Then you see Penny relent, she nods in understanding while you feel yourself deflate. How long ago did Ellie do this to herself? Was it because of your reaction to the bite? It’s been a month or so since then.  Ellie won’t meet your eyes.

“Might have to wait a few months for it to heal proper,” Penny replies, non-judgmentally. “Give Arthur plenty of time to draw you something real special.”

 “We were hoping he might be with you this morning,” you say.

“Arthur’s at work,” Penny tells you both, taking a long sip of her coffee. “But I’m his best client so maybe I can answer some questions you got.”

“Can I see some of them?” Ellie asks, motioning to the woman’s hand where several ferns overlap one another, touched to a star cluster. Penny nods, stretching out her arm across the table and tugging up her sweater. Ellie’s eyes widen in amazement, seeing the variety of outlined images etched into the woman’s skin.

Ellie stares at Penny thoughtfully, her eyes following the lines of the vines, the unfurling petals, the intricate pieces of nature forever etched on Penny's skin. You see the longing there to cover up her sordid history and your heart aches. 

"It's gonna look beautiful," you assure her. "I can't wait for you to get it."

Penny gives you a small smile. You never noticed that many of her tattoos are nature based; fern outlines, flowers, some detailed, some sketchy. A beautiful tapestry that when combined make a garden of memories, you assume.

“Arthur did all of these?”

“Yep.”

Penny looks proudly at her arm before turning her neck, pulling back her hair over her shoulder so that Ellie can observe the delicate vines that go from her shoulder and curl around her ear. You let your eyes linger on her ring finger where a small letter A resides in spidery script.

"How did you two meet?" 

"Back in the Virginia QZ. I was in disposal, he was teachin'. Went to the bar one afternoon and I saw him there sketchin' these wildflowers that grew in the park. I offered to buy him a drink if he sketched me one. I dunno why, I guess I thought it would be a nice momento to look back on. Durin' it we got to talkin' and I guess we never stopped. That was...hmmm, I guess eight years ago?"

"Do you still have the picture?"

"Better yet, that was my first tattoo." She pulls up her pant leg to reveal the tattooed outline of delicate petals and stamen. "So I'd always have ‘em."

“Woah that’s cool,” Ellie breathes, looking at it.

Penny gives her a lopsided grin, pleased.

"S'my happy place," she says, eyes falling shut as she tilts against her chair. "I could just lay there for hours while he works away on me."

"Doesn't it hurt?" Ellie’s voice is tight, her eyes large. She’s nervous.

"Maybe a little at first. But I like the hurt, you know? It feels good coming from him. Maybe cuz I know he'd stop it the second I asked or maybe because it makes me forget I'm living in the fuckin' apocalypse." She gives a crooked smile at that. "I just know that every time I'm finished I feel like a little bit of the ugly is gone from the world. Like the beauty of his art washes it away."  

You're surprised to find a lump in your throat at that statement. 

"That might be the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," you offer quietly. 

"Nah I'm not the words person. That's all Arthur. Poems, art. I'm just the muscle." At this she flexes her skinny arms, making you and Ellie giggle. 

“I want it to have a moth, one that looks like this,” Ellie explains, opening her sketchbook and pointing to the image she’s drawn. You look over her shoulder, amazed at the detail and the delicate beauty on the page.

“That’s gorgeous.”

“It’s on the guitar Joel gave me,” she explains patiently.

“He gave you a guitar?”

You blurt this out, surprised. For some reason Joel gifting anyone anything feels momentous.

“Yeah, told me it was for my birthday. Said it was a placeholder until he could travel through time with me.”

The two of you share a secret smile before Ellie is turning her attention back to Penny. She shifts her book closer to the older woman.

“Do you think your husband could do something with that?”

“Arthur can do anythin’ with anythin’,” Penny promises with pride in her words. She’s proud of her man, supportive of his skills. You can see the love there reflected in her words and actions.

Penny leaves you both to grab another apple and when she’s out of earshot Ellie is beaming so broadly her eyes disappear.

“I can’t believe I’m finally gonna get one!”

You smile back at her, delight flooding you as you look to the normally withdrawn teen and see her looking so overjoyed. You want to wrap her in an embrace, but you falter when you glance down at her reddened arm.

“What the fuck?”

A voice draws your attention and Dina is there at the end of the table, looking at Ellie’s arm with horror. She holds a tray in her hands and it dips as she stares in shock.

“What happened?”  Dina asks, indicating to the arm Ellie now covers by tugging down her sleeve.

“None of your fucking business,” Ellie growls.

“Fine.” Dina wrinkles her nose in irritation. “Was just trying to be nice.”

“Why start now?”

Dina gives a scoff before flipping her braid over her shoulder.

“You know Ellie, you can be a real asshole.”

Ellie says nothing as the girl stalks off to join the other table and you can see she’s still scowling, but now her cheeks are pink as her hand rests over her covered forearm. You glance down at her hand, your voice tender.

“Ellie when… what happened there?”

Ellie turns her attention back to her untouched muffin, her spirits dimmed a bit.

“Just. . . Felt like I needed to do it.”

“Was it because of how I reacted?”

“Fuck no,” Ellie frowns. “It was just, Joel has always gone on and on about my scar being unsafe. Then there was talk about those raiders and it started to make me paranoid if they found me. So I just. . . you know, made sure it was camouflaged. I didn’t want to put me or Joel in danger.”

Sympathy guides your tone.  “Does Joel know?”

“No.” She frowns, looking away from you. “He doesn’t need to know.”

You nod, unwilling to push further. You aren’t her mother, this isn’t your place. You feel guilty for stealing this moment of joy from her, and your attention drifts to Penny’s coffee cup, forgotten. 

"Wish it wasn't carrot today," Ellie mutters, poking her muffin with a fork. "I fucking hate carrot."

"Me too." 

Your eyes are still on the empty coffee cup.

Real coffee. Real coffee.

"I just know they have better stuff in the back that they're not giving us," Ellie grumbles, distracting you from this internal monologue.

"Yeah, the-" something flickers across your brain, and errant thought suddenly moving to the front of your consciousness. 

You think of when you were on kitchen duty, of the items not plentiful enough to be shared with the wider community. The ones stored until more came in or given away to those most in need. Your eyes snap wide as you recall the small container brought in the week you left. The one too small for sharing with the group. 

But you'd been taken with the tin. You loved the shiny red outside and blue top. And you knew that the contents inside were of no interest to you, but you wanted that tin. It made you feel bright and happy and hopeful when you looked at it. 

But there were rules in Jackson City. You weren't allowed to just take things for yourself. But you had known that if you asked it wouldn't have been given to you, not as a single woman. Items given from the kitchen were divided fairly and those with bigger families got bigger items. 

And so when eyes were tilted elsewhere you'd hidden it in your apron, rushing to the far storage room. With a beating heart you'd shoved it under the empty sacks used for hauling berries. They wouldn't be utilized again until the spring. 

You'd planned on finding a way to get it out, to smuggle it back to your place. But then that had been the week Maria told you that you were switched to patrols and all thoughts of the red tin were lost. 

Real coffee. Real coffee.

"Hey, you wanna join me on an adventure?" you tell Ellie in a quiet voice despite the fact that you two are fairly isolated from the rest of the groups.

“Yes.”

“It’s gonna involve breaking the rules.”

Ellie grins, the good mood returning to her features. She lowers her voice conspiratorially.

“Good.”

“I need to break into the kitchen at the back."

"Okay."

You hold in a smile at the lack of hesitation in the girls reply. She looks excited about it if anything. 

"Don't you wanna know what for?"

"Nah," Ellie shakes her head. "When are we doin' this?"

///

You still wonder if you should tell Jennifer what happened with Joel, but you reconsider. What good would it do? It’s not like you and Joel like each other, not like your moment of kindness somehow bonds you to each other.

But there’s something under your skin when he’s around. A feeling of being tilted off your axis that you can’t ignore, no matter how hard you try.

So you don’t mention it to her when days later she invites you and Luke to go to the movies, citing that they got a new film in she’s dying to see. She tells you about it, but you’re distracted as the three of you take turns shooting.

Movie nights are big for the people of Jackson City. It allows them a way to travel through time, to the ‘used to be’ of their world. Where they see McDonalds bags and shopping centers and beautiful, smiling faces. Where they see sun soaked beaches and can go around the world just sitting there eating popcorn in the dark surrounded by other patrons. You go every so often, but something about the dark and the crowds makes you uneasy at times. You always sit near the back, ready to escape when necessary.

When the three of you go to grab seats Jennifer doesn’t even question why you pick the back row, she just nods and tells you she’s going to get popcorn. Luke  goes with her, asking if you want anything else. He does this while looking between your eyes and your mouth, making you feel fluttery inside.

The two of them walk off and as you scan the room you notice Ellie is seated near the front. She waves at you when she notices you standing beside the empty chairs. You return it weakly, and she turns her head back around, you watch as her ponytail bobs behind her, looking knotted. You make a mental note to help her brush it again.

“Pardon me,” a voice says and a young woman moves past you, another man shoulders you, excusing himself as the crowd of people begins to swell. You start feeling a bit breathless amongst the gathering crowd. It’s like there’s too many people right now and unlike the church, this space is cramped and the lighting dim. Your heart hammers and your nails dig into the flesh of your palm.

“S’cuse me,” comes a voice from behind you.

Joel.

Before you can respond his hand is on your lower back, gently guiding you to the left so he can pass you, his fingertips strong through the fabric of your clothing. You hold your breath as he presses, almost scared of exhaling.

Your body catches on fire where he touches you, making your heart race as you glance over your shoulder up at his face. He stares down at you with a soft expression.  

What is he thinking?

You swallow, taking the seat you were saving, staring up at him. Your eyes stay on one another’s a moment longer and then he’s gone, waving at a very exuberant Ellie who shouts over the growing crowd that she saved him a good seat. 

Seconds later Jennifer reappears with a bag of popcorn and Luke in tow. The two of them take a seat beside you, Jennifer pressing against you.

“I’m almost done my dress for the holiday party,” Jennifer gushes from beside you, popping some popcorn into her mouth and crunching quietly. 

“Your dress?” You pause, brows furrowed. “Is it a big dress up event?”

“Everyone tries to look their best,” Jennifer says between bites of popcorn. “I just love any excuse to wear a dress.”

“Shit,” Luke mutters from the other side of her. “Can jeans and a sweater count as my best?”

“Of course,” she assures him before shooting you a rolling eyed look that clearly reads: men and fashion. 

Luke starts to talk about his musical practice and how you and Jennifer should come out for their first ‘casual concert’ as he calls it. He and Jennifer begin to chat about the song list and you try to focus but all you can think of is Jennifer making a dress and that dinner with Joel and Ellie; In the south women dressed up for everything, just how things were done. You look down again at your shabby jeans and sweater under your jacket. You look so plain. 

There’s the textile shop in town, a place to get clothing but it isn’t like going to the mall. Most of it is essentials like underclothes, jackets, jeans. Some people get clothing made there via bartering. But you don’t have anything worthwhile for trading. 

“I heard this movie is good,” Jennifer says pointing at the large hung blanket that acts as a screen.

“Well we can’t exactly get refunds,” you muse.

The two of you exchange a smile before the lights dim and the movie begins. Jennifer suddenly stands, glancing down at you as the darkness grows.  

“Hey, can we swap seats?” She asks you, looking from you to the screen. “I like sitting on the end because I have to pee all the time.”

You nod, swapping seats. Luke looks over at you with a warm smile before offering you some popcorn from his bag. The three of you are squashed up together with you in the middle. You share popcorn and you feel Luke’s arm warm against yours, understanding flooding you.

Nice play, Jennifer.

You try to concentrate on the movie but your eyes begin drifting over to the left side of the quieting room, soon landing on the broad shoulders of Joel, listening to something Ellie is saying to him as she eats her popcorn.

You still can’t believe you hugged Joel. That you willingly wrapped your arms around him and held him against you, inhaling the masculine scent of forest and wind and almond soap. Hearing his heartbeat thundering under your cheek and aware of how he gripped you to him.

“Do you like movies?” Luke leans over and whispers, breaking you from your conflicting thoughts.

“I like books better,” you confess. “But there’s something nice about entering another world.”

Luke nods in agreement and the two of you turn your attention back to the film.  You feel Jennifer squeeze your wrist, smirking at you with encouragement in the dark and you feel your stomach sink.

Your best friend is sitting on your right, watching a movie unaware of how you’re lusting after a man whose crush she uses as a coping mechanism. How could you be so unkind as to lust after him too? You don’t need Joel like Jennifer does. She needs the distraction.

And yes, Joel says he doesn’t like Jennifer but he’s like most people – he doesn’t really know the real Jennifer like you do.

You made a promise to yourself months ago. That you would help Jennifer get Joel and you fully intend on keeping that promise. You just have to find the right opportunity.  Satisfied with that you settle back in your chair, sighing softly. It’s an old movie, a space film you don’t recognize. 

You focus on the movie, your eyes drifting to the left every so often, seeing Joel tilt to whisper to Ellie or just sitting, watching the film. You can see Joel’s tousled locks and a pang of longing goes through you at the desire to card your hands through it. 

Where the fuck did that thought come from?

Sure, he’s handsome, but he’s also abrasive and rude and.. . . Memories are flooding you, how soft he is with Ellie, how he shared his food with you, how talented his fingers are, how you held one another. 

Luke’s pinky brushes yours at one point during the middle of the movie and you freeze, your cheeks flushing.  His hand is on his kneecap, his pinky rubbing back and forth against your outer thigh. You peek at him through your hair to see his eyes on the screen, a faint smile there.

You can’t remember the last time you felt this strange, happy jumpy feeling one has when they’re near their crush. That silly, breathless feeling that has you trying not to smirk through the scenes reflecting off the large white tarp.

When Luke’s hand navigates its way from his kneecap to yours you’re convinced you’re going to pass out. He leaves it there, heavy and warm through your jeans. Will Luke ask you to dance at the party?

Images of you and he dancing together are playing in your mind. A thought that has your entire body thrumming. It’s so normal to want something like that. You didn’t realize how much you craved normal.

All too soon the movie is over and the patrons begin to dwindle out of the makeshift theatre. You stare at Luke’s hand, sitting there on your knee when Jennifer’s soft voice speaks out beside you.

“Hi Joel.”

Your head jerks up so quickly something pops in your neck and you wince. Joel is stopped at the end of the aisle, looking at the three of you with an unimpressed expression. Ellie must have gone on ahead of him, because she’s nowhere to be seen.

“Hi Jenny,” he says smoothly, his eyes flicking to your knee and then back to her face. “Enjoy the movie?”

“Yeah, how about you?”

“S’okay,” Joel says. Standing there while the three of you sit he looks even taller, even more imposing and you throat runs dry.

“I figure we three should be headin’ out to find a tree soon,” Joel says.

His eyes flick between you and Jennifer, ignoring Luke altogether. Luke, you noticed, has removed his hand from your leg entirely. You feel a bit deflated and yet at the same time relieved. It’s a strange dichotomy that settles like a stone in your abdomen.

“Isn’t it a bit early?” you hedge.

“Party’s only a month away,” Joel shrugs. “And we won’t cut it right now; we’ll just leave a marker on it so others know not to touch it.”

You sneak a glance at Jennifer who is beaming up at Joel, trying her best not to look too eager.

“I’m pretty busy the next few days, but Jennifer has time, right?” you nudge her with your shoulder and she blinks rapidly a moment before understanding. She grins up at Joel with a demure look.

“I sure am. When do you want to go looking, Joel?”

“Last time I checked this was a group effort,” Joel says sourly. “That means we go as a group. The two of you find a time that works for you and get back to me.”

“But-“

He strides off, unwilling to listen to you trying to reason with him. You look back at Jennifer who appears fairly deflated.

“He’s a real stickler,” she shrugs.

“Don’t worry,” you tell her resolutely. “I’ll figure something out.”

///

You haven’t figured anything out by the following evening when you wait for Ellie outside the greenhouse.

You don’t know how to convince Joel to go off with Jennifer alone aside from flat out lying. But there’s a part of you that’s paranoid if you did that Joel might let things slip. What if he confessed to Jennifer about your trysts? How could she ever forgive you?  

You’re still debating your options when you hear footsteps crunching over the hardened snow, smiling when Ellie comes into view. She’s wearing black clothes and a dark burgundy beanie pulled down low. Only her pale face shows, grinning at you.

“Glad you didn’t chicken out.”

“Joel didn’t wake up?”

“He’s only got one good ear,” she explains. “He doesn’t hear much if he sleeps on his right.”

You can’t help but think back to the chapel when you’d whirled around and sneered at him.

Not our fault you’re half-deaf.

You shake off the shame that starts at the edges of your body, focusing on the task at hand. You motion for Ellie to follow you, quickly twisting the lock.

You still have the code for the greenhouse, which means you still know where they keep the spare key for the dining hall. It’s always kept under the planter near the right. Ellie watches all of this in amazement, likely shocked to see this more devious side of you. Then again this is where she first saw you, so it’s likely that she knew all along.

“I don’t even know if it’s still there,” you confess in a whisper as the two of you make your way to the dining hall. It’s almost three in the morning and the space is empty. The Bison always closes at one, and even the stragglers are home by two.

“I don’t care,” Ellie admits. “This is fun.”

You pull her into a casual side hug as you both suppress giggles. The two of you approach the padlock and Ellie watches as you twist the key, pocketing it as the door creaks open. The two of you disappear inside, pulling it shut after you.

Inside is eerily dark and quiet; the tables all cleaned and lined up for the breakfast rush in a few hours. Your dual footsteps echo in the space normally full of light and laughter.

Now that you’re actually here inside you feel your heartbeat begin to pick up a little as you think about what you’re doing. If you’re caught there are serious consequences – even possible exile. It happened only once before according to the folks here, but who’s to say it couldn’t happen again?

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say guiltily to Ellie. “I shouldn’t have-“

“I’ll keep watch,” Ellie finishes, her eyes narrowed. You know that she doesn’t want to hear anything else you have to say.

“If we’re caught-“

 “If I hear anything or see anyone dangerous I’ll hit the wall twice. You can go out the window they have by the freezer. I saw it my first day when they gave me and Joel a tour.”

“Ellie-“

“No one is gonna catch me,” she states flatly. “I’m really fast, faster than the other kids here.”

Ellie runs around the tables, weaving as she laughs.

“Shhh!” You call out, unable to keep the smirk from your face. “You want us caught?”

Ellie immediately sobers, running over to you as you approach the double doors that lead to the back room.

 “Ellie-“

“Plus, if anyone does catch me I’ll just say I was sleep walking,” Ellie says with a lopsided grin, pretending to be a sleepwalker, her eyes closed and her arms held out in front of her. She begins to softly snore, shaking herself awake, pretending to be half asleep. “Huh? Where am I? How did I get here?”

You try to suppress a laugh even though you still feel guilty to have her as your accomplice. But Ellie looks so delighted to be doing this, so excited to have this bit of adventure that it pushes away the bad thoughts. 

“You want anything from the back?”

Ellie pauses, looking thoughtful. “Something with chocolate.”

You nod, disappearing into the back room leaving Ellie to stand guard just outside them, her eyes scanning the empty space. 

It’s weird, she hasn’t been alone in so long. Someone is always there – Joel or you, schoolmates or Tommy or Maria. Even Buckley hangs around if she wanders off from the main town. It’s like she’s never alone anymore and . . . she likes it.

She didn’t expect to like it. And yeah, she has plenty of time to be by herself in her room but she likes knowing Joel is on the other side of the wall. She might roll her eyes at him or get frustrated when he insists on telling her he’s going out even though she knows he is. She may get annoyed when he insists on reminding her to brush her teeth and eat breakfast. But she likes it. She likes having someone who cares.

And you became one of those people so quickly. There’s something about your presence that isn’t hard like the rest of the people in town. A softness and a humor that Ellie finds herself drawn to. There are times when she wonders if her mother was anything like you. When you brushed her hair and she closed her eyes she could almost imagine that you were her. 

Ellie wanders back and forth along the line of tables, listening to hear you puttering around in the back. You’re quiet for the most part. Ellie hums to herself, thinking about school and her tattoo. She absently rubs her arm, thinking of how it will look decorated in Arthur’s ink.

A creak to her right draws her attention and she sees that the door has cracked open, letting a cool breeze inside. Ellie goes over to it, closing and locking it. It’s just as she’s turning back that she sees a flash of movement. Her heart jumps and she reaches for the knife in her back pocket.

But her hand stops its reaching when she sees the figure hunched under one of the tables, her braid unmistakable.

“Dina?”

Caught, the girl scrambles from under the table, heading for the far side of the dining hall. There are large windows there, big enough for her to climb out of to alert the rest of the town. Ellie doesn’t have enough time to warn you, she just takes off after Dina.

"Don't you fucking dare!' Ellie growls to herself, chasing after Dina between the tables.

Dina is like a rabbit skirting around the tables and chairs with ease. But Ellie has always been nimble and easily overtakes the other girl. 

Dina grunts when Ellie tackles her to the floor, he two of them are quiet, the only sound of Dina’s body as she slaps onto the wood floor, so harsh her teeth clatter. Ellie sits on her stomach, pinning Dina down and shoving a hand over her protesting mouth.

Dina's cries are muffled under her harshly pressing palm. Ellie straddles Dina's stomach as the girl squirms. 

"Shut the fuck up," Ellie growls, her face inches from Dina's. The two girls stare at each other, panting heavily. As the seconds tick by Ellie feels a strange swirling in her abdomen and she loosens her grip. 

"You promise you won't scream?"

Dina nods and her large eyes strangely soft. Ellie removes her hand slowly, confused as to why it's suddenly trembling. 

“Why are you here?”

“I… I was up early. Couldn’t sleep. I saw you from my window.”

She followed the two of you here.

Ellie is frustrated at being caught and strangely feels like she’s let you down. She pins Dina’s arms to the ground again, narrowing her gaze on the girl’s flushed face.

"You can't say anything about us being here, got it?"

Dina nods again, panting lightly. Ellie's face is still close and she can see the freckles scatter like constellations over Dina's cheeks. Ellie feels another swoop in her stomach that she attributes to the fear of being caught.

"Why are you always on my case?" Ellie rasps, her eyes searching the other girls. "Why'd you follow me here?"

"Let me go," Dina breathes and now she’s squirming under Ellie. 

"No," Ellie insists. "Tell me. Why? Why are you always around giving me shit?" 

"Ellie-"

"Why do you act like you're so much better than me?"

"Ellie just ..." Dina takes a sharp breath in, her eyes fixed on Ellie's mouth.

Ellie is confused by this until Dina jerks her face up, pressing her lips to Ellie's. Ellie feels her entire world tilt at the feeling of the girl’s mouth on hers. Soft and sweet and...

What the fuck? Ellie scrambles back off of Dina, her fingers on her lips. She stares at Dina in confusion. 

"W-what did... Why-," Ellie stammers as Dina sits up, her face heating. 

"Just … Don't say anything," Dina grumbles, pushing herself to a stand. "And I won't tell about whatever you two are doing here." 

Before Ellie can attempt a reply Dina is on her feet and rushing out of the cafeteria. Ellie turns only when she hears you stumbling out of the storage room minutes later holding your prize; the red coffee can and a chocolate bar in the other that you toss in her direction. 

"Got it. Let's go."

///

The next patrol seems to come so quickly, it’s already the afternoon and you’re heading towards Teton. You haven’t seen Joel all week and you’ve been pretty thankful for it. You still don’t know where the two of you stand. But you’re also sort of excited to see him. To give him his gift.

“Don’t have to check the traps this week,” he tells you over his shoulder.

“Right.”

You both continue on in the strained silence, doing your perimeter check. Your more alert today, your hand ready for your gun. You want to be ready in case Joel pulls another surprise test like last time.

You feel like getting to Teton drags on and on. The normally pleasant ride is cold and feels longer than usual. You take the time trying to remember books you’ve read or songs you used to enjoy, but you keep getting distracted by Joel ahead of you.

You keep remembering the feeling of his embrace. How he smelled, how warm he was, how gentle. Joel is so rarely gentle and you think this may be leaking into your subconscious.

This morning as you boiled the water you’d been daydreaming, thinking of the dance you want Luke to take you to. Only in this daydream its Joel you dance with, Joel who spins you around in his arms, holding you like he did in the forest. Joel who whispers in your ear that you look beautiful. Because in this daydream you wear a gown, not your jeans and sweater.

Eventually you make it to the safe house, tying the horses up and heading inside. Joel unlocks it this time, the same code as the last visit. But he allows you in first, stepping back and sweeping a hand indicating you should enter.

You thank him, walking up to the log book where you sign in, writing your names hurriedly so you can get to lunch.  

Joel walks into the room, his boots scraping as he comes to stand behind you. You think he’s looking to make sure you filled the log book correctly but another part of you believes he’s just doing it so he can stand close to you. The only difference is today you don’t mind.

You stand with your back to him, feeling the warmth of his body as he stands there, peering over your shoulder. You feel his mouth draw near the side of your face and you hold your breath, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“Miller’s only got two L’s,” he rumbles against your ear. “Not three.”

“There’s only-“ you stop as you peer closer at your writing. “Fuck.”

In your exuberance to fill in the logbook you did in fact write his last name incorrectly. You scribble one of the extra L’s out as Joel chuckles softly behind you. You feel like an idiot, all fluttery and strange. Why are you acting like this?

When the time comes for lunch you’re actually nervous, thinking your plan might have been a stupid one. Why did you think of this? What if he thinks you’re pathetic for it?

Joel often eats his lunch the same way, starting with the peeling of his orange. Then he pops one piece of orange into his mouth, followed by the large meat sandwich, a few carrots, the rest of the orange and then finish with his coffee and whatever pastry has been included in the lunch bag. You watch him eat, trying to look away when his eyes dart to you. You nibble on your sandwich, taking your time.

You watch as he finishes the orange, wrapping the peel in the wax cover. He saves the peels to feed to the horses on the way back, keeping them upbeat. You started doing the same, finding Chestnut had an extra zip to his step when you did.

When he reaches for his bag you swallow your carrot, reaching into your bag and producing your thermos from home.

"Here, I brought you a drink," you say awkwardly shoving your Thermos at him across the table. 

"I already got the one they packed," he says indicating to the Thermos in his bag. You falter, feeling shy.

"Yeah but … this one is... Different."

"Poisoned?" 

"Not to my knowledge." 

Joel smirks before nodding. You take a bite of your sandwich, chewing as you watch him unscrew the lid. He peers into the Thermos and you see him raise a confused brow. 

It's not until he lifts it to his nose and inhales that he realizes. 

"Where the fuck did you get this?"

You shrug like it doesn't matter and he doesn't press it. When Joel tilts it to marvel at it in the Thermos you're struck that the brew inside matches the color of his dark brown eyes. 

You're confused that he's not drinking it. Just staring at it like he's never seen coffee before. 

"I thought you liked real coffee," you say, head tilting to the Thermos. "I never drank it. Is Folghers not real coffee?"

"Folgers," Joel corrects your pronunciation gently. "And uh, yeah, it's real. S'what I used to make every morning before work."

You nod, still a little confused as to why he's not drinking it. 

"Did you ever go to Starbucks?"

Joel gives one of those not-quite-a-smile quirks of his lips. "Yeah."

"What did you get there?"

"Black coffee."

"You went to Starbucks and you just got a black coffee?"

"Sure."

This surprises an amused smile out of you, one that stays on your face until you see Joel is staring at you. His eyes rest there a beat before dragging back to the Thermos. You watch as he brings it to his mouth and takes the first sip. 

You don't realize you're holding your breath until it all rushes out. 

"Damn," he says after swallowing. "S'pretty weak but still got that same flavor. Where did you get this? Really?" 

"I used to work in the kitchen," you mumble, suddenly concerned that you'll be reported. "I uh... I hid it before so I could keep it… Just remembered it when we were talking about coffee last time." 

"Why'd you hide it?"

"S'my favorite color," you say wincing at how childish it sounds. "The tin it came in is red. Anyway, I have a whole container of this coffee at my house if you want it. I just wanted to keep the tin." 

Joel is staring at the coffee, mouth still pursing as he tastes the lingering flavor on his tongue. You’re confused when he shakes his head a little.

"You know I can count on my hand the amount of people that have done something for me," Joel says still looking at the thermos. "Side from my kids."

"It's what you do for friends," you reason. 

"Are we friends?"

"I'd like us to be." 

Joel nods slowly, eyes sliding to your face before going back to the coffee. He takes another sip, sighing gently. He closes his eyes and for a minute you see the lines in his face smooth, a state of relaxation overtaking him. You realize he's lost in a moment, a memory, a nostalgic moment. 

"When she got old enough, Sarah used to make me coffee in the morning before she went off to school." Joels eyes are still closed. "She used to nag me about bein' more healthy. She had this look she pulled, scrunched but.. she could never look angry. Didn't have it in her. She was always like a sunbeam, happy and golden." 

You've never met Sarah, never seen the photo Joel avoids at Tommy's house. Yet through the stories you've heard you can almost sense her, bubbly and warm, conscientious and sweet. You imagine wide eyes that disappear when she smiles and knobby knees as she sprouted over the years.

"She sounds wonderful."

Joel just nods with his eyes on his coffee. 

“Thank you," he says softly and you don't know if it's because of the coffee or the memory it brought up. Whatever it is, it makes you beam at him, delighted. 

"No problem." 

The two of you continue eating your lunch, Joel ending on coffee and you on your hot chocolate. The silence is easy and you feel sated in more ways than one. You’re friends, its official. The thought warms you.

You both rise, about to head out into the main section of the house to check that everything is stocked up and there are no leaks. You're about to leave out the door when you feel Joel's hand on your shoulder. You turn, brows raised expectantly. 

"What?"

Joel stares at you much like he was staring at you earlier. That inscrutable look in his dark eyes as they drop to your mouth. 

You twitch in surprise when his fingers come to gently grip your chin. You're confused because this isn't how this works. He's usually more forceful, more demanding. Instead his hand slides from your chin to your jaw, resting there. With infinite deliberation he moves his face towards you and tilts his mouth gingerly against yours. 

His lips are warmed from the coffee, slightly damp from where he licked his lips moments before. But as they graze yours you feel everything on you crackle with electricity that makes you start.

You inhale sharply, a soft little thing you'd assumed would be absorbed into the room. But Joel hears it, his strong nose brushing yours as he pulls back to look at you. 

"What?"

"Nothing," you say quickly. Too quickly. 

The lines between his brows deepen the concern evident. He wants answers and you know you'll have to give them if there's any chance of feeling his mouth again. You surprise yourself from wanting to feel them again. 

"I've just never kissed anyone before. Not really."

His eyes widen only a fraction, the white leaking around the iris. 

"You dated."

"I had..." You struggle for the word. "Encounters."

Fingers, cocks, hard fucking, slaps of flesh. Needling digits in flesh, around hair, between your legs. Never their lips against yours, never the gentle dab of their tongues in your mouth. Never softness.  

Joel stares at you; the deep chestnut of his eyes is momentarily hypnotizing.

"And you never-"

"No." 

Some tried, mouths on your neck, drifting upwards. But it always reminded you of them. Of the infected, the tendrils of green spilling from their mouths. It made you think of the neighbor that charged after you and your sister as you fled home. 

So when those same needy mouths went to your face it made you wince and turn your head, made you tell them to just fuck you. They never turned that down. Kissing was just a means to an end for them anyway. 

The only man you would have kissed willingly wouldn't tarnish the memory of his dead wife. And now the only man you'd kiss is staring at you. You feel shame at the scrutiny, as if he's seeing clear confirmation of your shortcomings. 

You could move away, shoulder past him, pretend none of this happened. But you don't. You stand with your gaze steady, curious that Joel's mouth seems to be drifting closer. 

When his dark eyes dart to your mouth you know you're not imagining it. And with the softest touch imaginable, Joel's warm lips press against yours. His lips seek yours not in the commanding way he is usually known for in life, but almost timid, as if he's terrified of fucking up. 

His eyes are still open when yours drift shut, neck tilting so that the kiss can deepen. His lips part, you feel them and then the damp dab of his tongue along your lower lip, wetting it. You hear him inhale through his nose as he tastes you.

You make a cooing noise in the back of your throat, surprised at the sensation. Joel immediately ceases, his face pulling back again. Your lips tingle from his touch, your mouth almost chasing his before you remember yourself. 

"S'okay?"

"Mhm." 

"You wanna keep goin’?"

"Yes," you breathe, not even bothering to stop and consider what you're agreeing to. 

Joel nods and to your surprise he sits on the chair he just vacated, tugging you towards him. You're about to go to your knees, assuming that this is what he's expecting but he shakes his head softly. 

"Sit here," he murmurs, rubbing a hand over his thigh before both hands come to your hips to guide you. 

He urges your legs to bracket his, to sit facing him on his lap. The chair creaks under your combined weight but Joel pays it no mind, his steady gaze is on your face. You don’t move, finding that your shock lends itself to keeping you there like a doll on his lap.

"Put your arms around my neck," he tells you in a husky murmur. 

When you pause, shocked by the request, he takes you by the wrists, urging your arms around his neck. His arms slide around your waist, holding you there.

The warmth of his lips is still felt on your own and when he presses his mouth to yours you kiss him back, feeling inexperienced but taken care of. He pulls back a moment and when you chase his mouth this time he readily allows them to be captured. 

You inhale at the sensation of his lips warming yours, feeling as his hands cup your cheeks, kissing you sweetly, taking his time, letting you explore his lips, his tongue, everything you want.  You kiss him back, desperate for more of him.

You're trembling everywhere but you can't stop, you want more of this, to kiss him for hours. For him to trace his tongue over every inch of your mouth, your lips, fuck, just everything. 

Joel’s never like this. You've never touched, never felt his hands on you like this. It makes you feel disorientated. Your eyes are heavy lidded as you stare into his, feeling the bulge between his legs that’s been there since you sat on his lap, pulsing and aching beneath you.

He nudges his nose against yours, urging your head to the side. You submit, feeling as his mouth works its way along your neck, wet and needy. Tingles shoot everywhere in response to his beard rasping against your skin and his soft lips trailing down.

You let out a shuddering sigh at the sensation, eyes closed as he continues. You feel his teeth scrape your carotid artery and you swallow anxiously. 

What are you doing? Why is Joel doing this? 

This thought distracts you until his broad hands slide up your sides, coming to cup your breasts. You hold in a gasp of pleasured delight when his thumbs find your hardened nipples and he grazes over them and you feel them pucker further. You watch as he squeezes your breasts, groaning when you do. 

"Mhm," he murmurs when you whimper. "You like that, don't ya?"

You can only nod, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter as your body tilts further back, nipples tightening almost painfully. Joel tugs you back, hands leaving your breasts to splay against your spine, forcing your chest to his. Your head instinctively tilts when his lips find your jaw. 

"I wanna give you more," Joel rumbles against your neck. “You want that?”

"Yes, I want more," you breathe, arms crooked around his neck. "Please, I-“ 

Joel doesn't let you finish before his mouth crashes against yours, his hands going to untuck the shirt you wear under your sweater from your jeans. You allow it, holding your arms up so he can divest you of the bulky sweater, leaving the t-shirt on for now. He lets his eyes travel along your breasts, the nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your bra and shirt.

You gasp when his head dips forward and he circles one through the cloth, sucking it into his mouth, wetting the shirt. You arch back, his hands on your upper back, pulling you into him. He groans, hips rolling against yours as you whimper for him, hands carding through his hair. It feels so good to let go.

“You’re gonna ride my thigh ‘til you come."

His words have the intended effect because you're hips begin to roll automatically, the second his palms urge you to do so. The seam of your jeans hits exactly the right spot, creating a pleasurable friction that has you starting to moan.  

Fuck. It feels so good. How does he make it feel so good? 

You don't understand how his hands urging you to press roughly against his denim-clad thigh has you arching, your body alight with an inner fire as you ride him there in the quiet room. This is Joel the man who just became your friend. Joel who - - - you can’t think rationally, can’t even finish this thought. You just surrender to how he moves your increasingly pliant body, the gentle touches, the needy groans making you come undone.

"Just like that," Joel says thickly, his eyes sliding all over your body from where you ride him, to the gentle bounce of your breasts, all the way up to your face with your saddled brows and parted mouth. 

You need more; you crave his fingers, his warm skin. Your mouth finds his neck, pressing there for the first time. His skin is so warm, the color and temperature of gold sand warmed by the sun. 

You feel that Joel is still so hard underneath you and your fingers slide between your two bodies, coming to cup him through the denim of his jeans. He gently disentangles you, tugging your hand from him and replacing it on his shoulder. 

"Keep ‘em there," he instructs gently.

Your eyes fly open, concerned you've done something wrong but he doesn't look upset. You are about to say something when you feel his fingers coming to pop the button of your jeans open. 

"You don't have to do anything," Joel tells you, his mouth grazing yours as he lowers the zipper of your jeans. "Just need you to feel good."

"You don't want... You know?"

Joel shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You feel as his fingers trace over the damp spot in your panties and you shiver. 

"Lemme give it to you," he says huskily.

You feel his fingers continue their trailing between your thighs, tugging your panties to the side, his fingers splaying around your clit. At the contact combined with his lingering eye contact you buck against his hand. 

He watches your face with intense scrutiny, making you feel shy. You drop your head forward as your thighs tighten. 

"C'mon," Joel says softly, his own arms banding around your waist and holding you to him. "C'mon, lemme hear it."

Joel is never tender and sweet and wanting you to make noise. He's always telling you to shut up, always insisting that you talk too much. Never letting you touch him aside from your mouth on his cock. What changed?

“You can take it,” he murmurs huskily. “S’all for you today.”

His free hand grips your hips, urging you to grind against him harder.  He's never been this free with praise. Never been so tender. It makes you feel dizzy. 

His hips are still rolling against yours, urging you to keep chasing that pleasure that seems just out of reach. For some reason its hard today, your confusion over what’s happening clouding the desire that bleeds into focus.

"So wet," he remarks, his fingers entering you, curling, coaxing you to come forward off that precipice.  You feel as his thick finger enters your honeyed entrance, the thumb still rubbing your swollen clit.

You whimper, burying your face in his lean neck while keeping your arms on his shoulders and continuing to roll your hips against him. When he adds a second finger and increases the tempo of his thumb’s rub you start to quake. He puts his damp lips to your ear.

"I know," he rasps. "Keep goin', baby, I'll take ya there." 

Baby. 

It slips out. You know he didn’t mean to call you baby. Joel has never come close to giving you a nickname, neutral or otherwise. You desperately want more of him. To feel him deep within you, but something stops you. Something tells you that this has to be enough. 

"That's it," he encourages with what could almost be a smile in his voice. "That's it. Doing so good." 

"C'mon," Joel urges his hand on your chin so you can't look away. "C'mon and let me give it to you."

"Joel," you whisper for no other reason than wanting to say it. His praise is making you feel crazy.

Baby.

You force your head against his shoulder, groaning with abandon. You feel his large palm there, resting on the back of your skull.

"Go on, yeah, just like that," Joel encourages as he cradles the back of your head. "Doin' so good for me." 

You ride his fingers with abandon, a stuttering moan escaping you when he adds a third finger and begins to fuck you that way, the tempo of his thumb on your clit never changing speed.  

"I know," he croons sympathetically when your whimpers turn to needful whines as your pleasure ebbs and flows. Like a tide that recedes the more you chase after it. 

"I know, you’re so close, just keep goin’." 

You want it so badly it hurts. But you’re mind is so full, crowding you and making you feel suffocated.

"I can't," you grind out with frustrated tears in your eyes. Joel’s mouth is at your ear immediately.

"Look at me," he commands gently.

You lift your head, lips swollen, hair mussed and eyes glassy. Joel is similarly affected, his expression entirely painted with desire, hair mussed and falling into his dark eyes.

"You like doin' what I tell you," he says as he presses his mouth to the hollow of your throat. It's not a question. You feel his teeth scrape your carotid artery and you swallow. Yes, you love doing what Joel asks you when he's soft like this. 

"Yes," you sigh. 

"Then you're gonna listen to me right now," Joel says, his mouth at your jaw now as his hands continue to rock you against his leg. "And you’re gonna come.”

You're still desperately rutting against his hand, his bulge straining through his jeans. And there it is; that sweet wipe of your brain clean. When Joel’s words are all that you can hear and the loud, annoying thoughts that normally rule you are quieted.

Joel has told you to come and you’re going to.

“Gonna do that?” Joel teases as his tongue comes to trace behind your jaw. “Gonna be a good girl for me and come?”

Yes yes yes.

His words have you whimpering, pressing harshly into his fingers as you ride his thigh. Joel is gazing at you, his words melting into the background as everything else grows silent. C’mon, you’re so close, I can feel it. Go on and take it, s’all for you.

He holds you with one hand, the other still working between your thighs, urging you to keep going, fucking you with only his fingers and his words and yet it’s so potent you feel it in every nerve of your body. You feel Joel everywhere, you hear him everywhere.

You wanna be good for him and when the next pleasured wave overtakes you, you surrender completely. It bursts behind your eyes as everything releases within you and you cry out loudly, body thrusting intensely against Joel’s hand as he watches you, praising you as you fuck yourself on his fingers. 

"Atta girl," Joel says and his voice sounds almost proud. “You take what you want. Go on.”

And you do, you ride him until you’re completely spent, shuddering in his lap as you feel your entire body light up, pleasure dripping through your veins as Joel kisses your neck, murmuring that’s right, just like that. Did so good for me as his arms circle your waist again. 

You collapse against his chest, feeling boneless. You’re too tired to even hold him around the neck, your arms just drape to the sides and your cheek rests on his shoulder. You breath heavily, your heart pounding.

"Just sit there," he murmurs as he holds you, a hand running itself through your hair gently. "Take a minute."

"Okay." 

You can’t believe what just happened. This was nothing like what happened before with you on your knees, nothing like the chapel back room. This was something different entirely. An experience that you can’t just push off as an encounter. You kissed him, you kissed him and wanted more.

Moments later your breathing slows and you don’t know what possesses you but you tilt forward before pressing a chaste kiss to Joel’s temple, right over the scar there. Joel’s eyes close as you do, his voice low and rumbling.

"Feelin’ okay?"

You nod as you crack your eyes open, a breathless smile on your face.

“More than okay.”

Joel is nodding at you, his cheeks pink and his eyes black with desire.

Without hesitation you dip your face and he eagerly accepts your mouth on his. His lips are damp and full and they feel perfect. A hand comes to hold the back of your neck, keeping you from pulling back too soon as his tongue begins licking into your mouth.

He kisses you languidly, as if you have all the time in the world. The thudding between your legs isn't gone, if anything is compounded when he groans when your mouth opens further, your tongue coming to dab against his.

You desperately reach for Joel's shirt, intent on popping open the buttons. His hands begin to travel under your shirt, sliding under the bare flesh there when his thumb comes to drag just under your sternum, catching on the end of the jagged scar there.

You feel Joel hesitate when that happens and you pull back, your eyes flying to his face to see him looking at you with worry.

Before you can say anything the loud neighs of both the horses breaks the two of you from this interlude. You hastily crawl off him as Joel rushes to the window, glancing down to where you hitched the horses. You pull on your sweater, feeling vulnerable.

"What's wrong?" You ask going up beside him and peering through the frosted glass to see the two horses nipping at one another. Chesnut gives another little whinny as Midnight nips him again.

"Nothin'," Joel exhales, relieved. "They were just playin'."

So were we. 

Joel glances your way, and unlike your last patrols there's no darkness in his expression when he next speaks. 

"Let's head back."

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

TAGLIST (PLEASE make sure your name is not already on here before asking me to tag)

@casssiopeia

@getitoutofmymind

@joeldjarin

@elegantduckturtle

@cosmic006533-blog

@orcasoul

@la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@valkyreally

@multiversed-daydreamer

@deninoe

@ashleyfilm

@missladym1981

@questionablemay

@noisynightmarepoetry

@eddiesxrings

@know-that-its-delicate

@onlyyoucan-getme

@cosmic006533-blog

@harryscum

@confusedpuffin

@koshkaj-blog

@puduvallee

@locaparapedrito

@guelyury

@sofiparallel

@maryrhodalouandted

@questionablemay

@kateg88

@friskispunk

@mewantpeepaw

@cuteanimalmama

@alma-rt1

@marisemonteiroo

@thedisagreeablegirl

@olafsmiles2020

@survivingandenduring

@sofiparallel

@bitchesuntitled

@r4vens-cl4ws

@deninoe

@harriedandharassed

@honestly-really-magnificent

@joelmillersblog

@alma-rt1

@fancyyoouu

@whataboutcloneclub

@cuteanimalmama

@locaparapedrito

@kateg88

@noisynightmarepoetry

@r3dheadedwitch

@hjzghi-blog

@ladyofmidlo72

@glitterymanboy

@cumberpegg

@part2joelmiller

@nandan11

@anon221420

@scubacat

@swankyorange

@deansimpalagirl

@locaparapedrito

@marisemonteiroo

@cuteanimalmama

@caitlynsixxx

@macaroni676

@dreamtofus

@copperhalfcent

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@ashhlsstuff

@picketniffler

@mellymbee

@shy-taylorsversion

@vickie5446

@missbeeentertainment

@strawberrycake99

@amyispxnk

@arcticversed

@xxx-silhouette-xxx

[sleepy-grav3]

The Moon Child Part 2

Part 1

A/n: Wow. I posted the first part to this and you guys like- rushed to it like starving animals holy SHIT... Should I be scared???? anyway- here ya go

Summary: Danny meets the Aqua Family and gets the love he deserves, plus a little comfort.

Tw: hurt/comfort, bad parents, mentioned discrimination, angst, ghost animal cruelty, swears, objectification, fluff

I forgot to mention Danny goes by he/they pronouns, Atlanteans know a lot of animals, and gender is weird sometimes so they aren't assuming anything and that's fair since Danny could shapeshift if he wants

The Moon Child Part 2 - The Moon Loves the Sea

Warm. He felt warm while in his core. And he could feel the soft cushion he was placed on. He heard the stories that Aquaman Arthur would tell him about all of his adventures and the rambles about his family. He was even told the secret about his stepbrother, Orm, who's death was faked and now lived on land.

It was... nice. Safe. He hadn't felt so loved in a long time. Or, at least, he thinks he hasn't. He had lost track of time while in the labs. It was painful to think about. Visibly so. Apparently, when he drifted into those dreadful terrors, his core's soft light would flicker into a dimmer one which resonated with his sobs. Arthur or his wife, who would keep him beside them at all times, would pick him up each time and hold him close to their heart.

"It's alright" They would say. "You're safe now."

Their heartbeat would always calm him down. It pulsed out reassuring feelings with each beat of their hearts. It was soothing and he never felt so safe. Not even when he was alive. To think he needed to die to feel this way.

It took a while for the pain to finally go away, but he soon felt ready to come out of his core. He couldn't recuperate as much as he wanted to. Not to use his full abilities of his ghost powers. No, there wasn't a massive supply of ambient ectoplasm like in Amity. He learned that what he was absorbing the most was the magic, which acted as a saline solution to blood (which he was pretty sure his blood was fully ectoplasm now).

It was interesting how magic tied in with ectoplasm. He wondered if that's why summoning worked best for those in the realms for that reason. Maybe the specific rituals to summon them even tied closely with their ecto-signatures? It's an interesting thought really.

That isn't the point though. What is, is that he was healthy enough to come out of his core.

"Ok, Danny. Deep breath. Here we go-"

-

Arthur was doing his usual thing: struggling to wake up in the morning and only really doing it because he didn't want to worry the literal spirit of a god. And it's not even because they're a god, but because they're a child. Should he have kept them in the same room. He feels like that might've been a better choice than just leaving them in a room next to his.

Arthur shook his head, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs over the edge only to jump at the cold feeling of the floor.

"All kinds of water magic and they still can't stop the floor from being cold."

He huffed, getting up and picking out some casual wear that didn't have a bunch of jewelry with protection runes. Some normal clothes to hang out with family.

Kaldur came back yesterday, so they're having breakfast together. He hoped that he'd believe the whole moon deity thing. Kaldur was pretty good and believing new things, but this was their main religion they're talking about. Religion is iffy, or at least it was for those on land. The ocean folk are... extremely loyal.

Should he worry about them trying to destroy the new moon...?

He shook his head. No, they probably couldn't get past the layers of the atmosphere. Hopefully.

He walked out of the door, now thinking about how sea creatures would even pull that off before knocking on the door of the room next to his.

"It is uh, me. Again." It never sounds less awkward. Maybe I should try adding the dramatics?

And with a twist and push, he opened the door only to freeze with widening eyes. The stone wasn't there.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

Only to hear a chirp. he flinched, attention darting over to the full body mirror on the other side of the door that pushed into the room. A door he was going to have fixed to avoid heart attacks like these.

He let out a huge sigh of relief, walking over and bending down with a crooked grin.

"Well, good morning. I didn't expect you to appear for a while. But hey! Perfect timing! Kaldur's going to be joining us during breakfast today, so we could introduce you guys! We could meet Orm soon too! I bet he'll be absolutely surprised!"

The child only looked at him with their big wide doe eyes. Hope sparked in them, but anxiety kept their body tense.

"You... You were serious about it? About me meeting your family?"

Arthur placed a hand on their shoulder, he could barely notice the cool temperature of their body before he saw them jump. He was going to pull away his hand, but then the child relaxed a bit more. It was as if they hadn't had affectionate physical contact in a long time.

"Have they ever been anything but a moon? Are all moons like this? What about other planets? Earth... we have so much pollution. If it were alive..., would it only just barely be clinging?"

"Yes, I was and still am. You're a part of it now for as long as we live. And even when we pass, you will continue to have a place in the ocean. You might not have realized this, but the ocean worships you like a god. In fact, I think I'm going to have to talk with the Justice League about offering an apology gift of some sort."

The child blinked, eyes wide and glistening as a layer of moisture sparkled more yet made the eye look foggy. Looking closer, Arthur could see how moonstones came to be when they cried. It would hurt if it was a literal stone the kid cried. Like- like kidney stones! He was thankful that it wasn't like that.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them? You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

Arthur blinked. What?

"No... Nobody- Why would anybody think that?"

The child pursed his lips into a thin line, averting his eyes. With each blink, a silvery white liquid would start to drip and condense to the moonstones he found.

"I... don't know how things work around here... But on land... I've... They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

Arthur took a breath, pulling the spirit into his arms into a tight embrace. They clung to their veil that was wrapped around their arms like a shawl.

It seems that he had some lore to read up upon and some things to investigate.

-

(This bit's about Danny's POV. It'll be continuing with his while he meets everyone)

Danny didn't know what to think when he looked at himself in the mirror earlier. He didn't have a shirt, but the scarf thing was comfy. He could make it into some kind of make-shift shirt if he wanted to too. His memory on how to do it was... foggy and fractured. Some parts of speech were muffled and what he saw from that time would blur or seemed made up.

He knew the person teaching him.

Why can't he remember them clearly? He could hear whispers of something in his head telling him who that was.

And when he pushed that thought aside, he'd look back at other memories and realize who that was.

Tucker. How could he ever forget about Tucker? Why was he forgetting him?

What made it worse was how much he had to stare at the damn mirror to get the knots right. His chest... it wasn't ever that clean. No Lichtenberg scars. No burns, no cuts, no incision scars. Nothing. It was clean of any of his failures. His struggles. His learning experiences.

And yet... he still imagined them being there. Each time his fingers would brush up against places where he knew scars should've been, a shot of pain would spike as if he'd been electrocuted.

It hurt.

He hated how he remembered.

He hated that he didn't.

He used to remember all of it. He did when he was sobbing for days on end.

Now, it was foggy. Now, it was hidden away. He couldn't reach it.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

He chirped in surprise, turning with widened eyes. Oh. It's just Arthur. I really need to get out of my head.

Arthur walked over, looking slightly drained, as if he was relieved of a sudden weight placed on his shoulders. And by the vibes, Danny's guess seemed right.

Relieved Happy Happy Excited Nervous Happy

He was always so cheery in the... well, what seemed to be the day. Sucks to be out now that he thought about it. It would be rude to just fall asleep at random now that they could physically see if he's awake or not.

Arthur greeted him warmly, cheerily saying how he didn't expect him to come out of his core as if the event was a surprise gift. That... was confusing to say the least. It's easier to have a pet rock than a guest. Now he has to feed him to be polite, or at least offer. He has the room covered since the beginning. It was a really big room. A waste for something someone like him.

He felt his body freeze and start muffling sounds when Arthur started mentioning Kaldur and Orm. His family. Close ones, from the stories he would tell.

M4Dd13 and J4Ck would never allow strangers near him, much less Jazz.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them?" He couldn't stop the questions from slipping out even when his expression shifted. "You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

He doesn't even know how he could even think of himself as otherwise. He could remember the custom-made, high voltage tasers that targets his ecto-signature itself until he acted how they expected him to. How they wanted him to.

His eyesight became extremely cloudy. It was similar to the green he'd see before he would start crying after he couldn't cry water anymore.

Ghosts... Ghosts cry ectoplasm. What... What was he crying? What is he now? He was- Why wasn't he gone? He was Ended, wasn't he? They got rid of his heart and crushed his core to determine the durability- there wasn't a way to come back from that.

So why was he alive?

Why can't he-

"-think that?"

Shit- he wasn't paying attention.

Danny couldn't bare to look at the man, guilt eating away at him.

"I... don't know how things work around here..."

He could barely register that it was his voice.

"But on land... I've..."

Why was he still touching his shoulder?

Why isn't he disgusted?

Why isn't he scared?

Why isn't he angry?

"They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

But they destroyed me instead.

It was all for nothing.

Why didn't he listen to the Ancients?

Why did he just kill people?

They already expected him to do so anyway.

So why didn't he?

He couldn't feel the hug he was pulled into until he stopped crying.

What was he even crying about?

-

Ok so- Maybe Danny should start scheduling his breakdowns. So far, he's had ones at random or ones that goes on for multiple days without any stopping. Or- if he did stop, he really doesn't remember them.

But this is getting embarrassing. He was lucky Kaldur came home late or else they might've either came late or completely missed the breakfast reunion.

Ugh- and don't get him started with anxiety.

His eyes must be puffy or something. Great first impression, Danny! All ya gotta do now is cry again in front of everyone to make it one of the worst introductions in life.

Well, it wasn't really a good start even without him. Arthur had just dropped him onto a very cushiony chair and exclaimed: "Thank the seas! I'm starving!" And just went to devour a whole plate before calming down a bit with Mera scolding him.

He was just awkwardly watching until a plate was placed in front of him. He slightly tensed, attention going from his plate to the hand pulling away from the plate now that it was down. That's when his eyes made contact with Kaldur's. He seemed a bit startled to, as he blinked owlishly before smiling politely.

"Hello, I'm Kaldur'Ahm. You may call me Kaldur."

"U-um.. I'm..." What should he be called now? Phantom didn't feel as right anymore. Ah, what the heck. It's not like they know little ol' Danny Fenton. "I'm Danny." For some reason, that name didn't feel too right either.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard that you've been in a stone, so I was surprised to see you carried in by fa- Arthur."

Curious Happy Happy Nervous

Danny relaxed a bit, turning to his plate once eye contact became too difficult. He picked at his food

"I didn't have much strength when I first formed. I wasn't meant to even have a body but I... didn't want to be discovered and have my core cut up and carved into for some jewelry or something, so I forced myself. you could say it's like... an energy conservation form."

Danny started to actually eat his food, though a bit quicker than he usually would. Stress eating, how lovely.

"Is it a lot of work to stay as you are now? You don't have to stay like this if you're too drained." Kaldur started to fret for him, looking for any sign of strain.

Danny, feeling the worry from him, smiled. It's been a while since someone was worried for him.

"I recovered enough energy that I have a bit extra. I can't do a lot of the things I could before, but I don't feel any pain anymore. So, I'll be fine."

Kaldur relaxed a bit, though still held a slight frown.

"Tell me if you ever feel anything. I'm more than able to hold onto your core and protect you."

Danny hummed, continuing to eat. That's about the time Kaldur remembered that it was breakfast time and started- no, continued to eat from his plate. He must've served himself when Arthur started to or even before that.

"Hey hey hey! Now that the kid's awake, why don't we take a family trip toooooooooo" He dragged out the word as Mera glared at him. "-my brother's grave! I bet he'd love to meet you! And on the way, we can go to the burger place and shop for some clothes, meet my dad-"

Danny looked over at Kaldur, who shook his head fondly at his obvious father-figure. Really, that slip up wasn't getting past him, no way, not possible.

"Don't mind him." Mera sighed. "He's an idiot."

"Hey!"

"Danny, you could always say no. We could go a different day." Kaldur mentioned.

"Danny?" Arthur questioned. Mera rolled her eyes.

"Pay attention, will you?"

"No, it's fine." Danny shook his head with a nervous smile. "I'd like to see him too."

"GREAT!" Arthur exclaimed, making Danny jump and Kaldur wince at the volume. "Hurry and finish your meals! I'll call over the pups!" and then he ran off.

"Pups?" Danny asked.

"Sharks." Mera clarified with a fond sigh. "Ever since he heard someone call them sea puppies, he's been calling them pups and puppies ever since."

"That's... really cute actually." Danny snickered.

"He sneaks away to play with them all the time." Kaldur groaned, remembering the number of meetings he had to take over for the man.

Danny reached over and patted Kaldur's forearm.

"You poor child."

"At least you understand."

-

Kaldur... well, Danny didn't really know how to put it. He was really nice and all, but he was a bit...

"These earrings would look great on you." Kaldur hummed as he held up dangling pearls to his ears.

Kaldur's already bought 3 bags of stuff for him in the last 20 minutes since coming to Reef Town (completely made-up place, just go with it). He even had to adjust his ghost clothes so he could wear the pants and shirt, and other stuff that were bought for him. He still kept the veil since it was really soft and soothed him when he rubbed it between his fingers.

"Ah, but this goes with your clothing... Perhaps we should order one to be made in Atlantis?" Kaldur trailed off, mumbling about different shops and what materials they had along with design names Danny had no clue about. He was almost sure that some of those words were made-up with how they sounded.

"Oookaaayyy- how about we think this over later?" Arthur insisted, a hand on Kaldur's shoulder and the other taking away the earrings in his hands. "We have someone to meet in... about 5 minutes."

"Right, sorry! I got distracted-"

"You're fine, you little urchin." Arthur chuckled, pushing Kaldur towards the door. "Now let's go meet Orm!"

Danny felt a hand on his head. It was a gentle, motherly touch. It nearly made his core let out a purr. Only Jazz could do that with touch alone. Though he nearly started to do the same when they'd mark where they'd cut next. They didn't do that as often with how much they liked to see his organs and bones regenerate.

"Tell Kaldur if it's too much. He's just really excited to have you around and is used to having to give something to keep sea creature friends around."

Ah, he knew that voice.

"Ex..cited? Why?" Danny looked up at Mera, leaning into her touch.

Mera smiled down sweetly at him; her eyes were filled with love that would be pointed to her own child.

She didn't have that drunken lust M4Dd13 had in her eyes each time she came back.

It made his core flutter.

"He sees you as a younger sibling. He's wanted one for a little while now. I... I can't get myself to try again, so he didn't expect to have a sibling. He was really excited to meet you after he heard that you agreed to stay with Arthur. You didn't reject my touch either. I hope it was fine that I held your... core, was it?"

Danny felt her finger card through his hair. He melted at the soothing touch.

"Yeah. It's... it's everything to a ghost. Heart and soul. And... I heard about you from Arthur while I was in my core. And you were the reason Arthur knew to comfort me. So, I knew I could trust you."

Mera smiled a bit more brightly and knelt down, hands holding his face with all the love in the world before she placed a kiss on his forehead.

"I'm glad. Now, let's go catch up with the boys. I'm sure Kaldur and Arthur must be panicking."

Danny could barely follow after her, having to make himself float as she grabbed his hand to lead him outside. Everything was too fuzzy and happy; it was hard to focus.

-

"Did you kidnap a child spirit?!"

That was the first thing Orm said when he saw Danny, immediately looking at Arthur incredulously as he slammed the table with his hands.

He immediately walked over and knelt down in front of Danny.

"I am so sorry about him-"

"Hey! I didn't-"

"-he's an idiot and really doesn't know any better."

"I didn't kidnap him!"

Orm arched a brow at his brother before looking over at Mera.

"No contracts were made."

Orm looked back at Danny.

"You went with him willingly?"

Danny snickered. "He looked like an idiot."

"You too?!"

"You really can't blame him." Kaldur agreed, smiling over at Danny.

Danny giggled and looked back at Orm.

"I'm Danny."

"Orm, that idiot's older brother. Stepbrother. Now, why did a saintly spirit decide to tag along with this family?"

Mera walked over, placing a hand on Danny's head again. He leaned into it, barely able to keep in a purr.

"You remember the incident with the moon?" Orm nodded. "Well, they're the spirit of the moon."

Orm's eyes widened, head snapping right back to Danny.

"You- you're-"

Danny blinked. He's a what? Wait, not the time to dissociate-

"Is... Is that bad?" Danny hesitantly asked.

"No! Not at all- I just- I've always believed in you, it's just that- Seeing an idol is a bit of an experience-"

"An idol?" Danny questioned, looking up at Orm. He was still kneeling, doesn't that hurt?

"Well, I've heard stories about how you'd battle against the sun gods and sent blessed rain to heal those under incurable plagues. That you split your own soul to assist physically on this world to help those that roamed on it! I've traveled to different places on the land just to see your descendants. And what beautiful white features they have. Did you know that humans call them albinos?"

"Really?"

"Yes! They deserve a better name that fits the position of blessed descendants! The fools!"

"I-it's fine, really! I'm glad they're doing ok and- and that my blessing still lives on."

Orm sighed and stood up.

"You're much too kind. Even after they replaced you, you don't hold it against anyone."

Oddly enough, he felt his chest tighten. It was as if...

"Someone has to do my job in controlling the currents, right?" Danny smiled sadly.

The others seemed to feel sympathy for the spirit, Kaldur going over and pulling him into a hug.

"It's alright. The ocean will stand by your side. Forever. They still worship you even now. So don't think you were only a tool, ok?"

Danny nodded. "Ok.."

He fought back against the tears.

-----

A/n: well, that was a bit longer than the last one. I was planning to write more for this chapter, but I'll just add it to the next one. Sorry if it seems a bit stiff, it'll be better eventually... hopefully.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed.

[r0-boat]

So we're all losing it over the new whb characters right? But I keep thinking about being belphegor's pillow on accident. like he falls asleep standing during a fight or something and lands on us. I wouldn't even try to move him, I'd just be like, ok cuddle time I guess until one of the nobles comes and ruins it.

Aw it's actually super adorable! Orion I absolutely love this!

May I write a little bit about it?

WHB 6 Kingly cuddles: reactions to the MC snuggled up to them

Satan

Doesn't sleep but will gladly cuddle you while you sleep.

Once you fall asleep he will not move. He will just hold you close; smiling at how vulnerable and cute you look as he scrolls on his phone. He is at peace with you in his arms cuddling into his chest until trouble strikes...

He sees snickering devils whether it be his subordinates, nobles or Even some of the kings. While Satan is quietly cussing them out, threatening them, But still holding you in his arms. They better pray to Lilith: you don't open your pretty little eyes because it will be their funeral.

Mammon

He is the perfect pillow, it doesn't matter where he is, he would gladly lend his body for you to sleep. While you sleep peacefully his hands will wander mostly just squeezing your ass.

Sometimes, you seem more like a sleeping kitten, especially when you just how much pictures he had taken of you while you slept. He is also very much addicted to seeing you in his oversized shirts for sleepwear. In fact, he likes it so much that he throws out to your old pajamas in favor of his old clothes.

Leviathan

To him sleeping is when you're at your most vulnerable. That's why he sleeps in a He is not used to being so close to you. Part of him is uncomfortable because of it. But another part of him, most of him, is pounding and jittering in. Does this mean you are getting used to him more? Are you falling for him??? He has never seen a human sleep up close like this except for the times he would stalk you and watch you sleep, but shhhh, you don't know that.

His heart is beating so hard it's threatening to come out of his chest. Maybe this can be his chance for his hands to wander and explore your body in ways he could not before. Gently touch and caress your skin and truly love you, something he didn't want to do for pride sake.

Beelzebub

His hands do wonder, They wonder so much that I cannot explain or else this will no longer be sfw. Sometimes it's not because he wants to have sex with you, He just has his hands there because he just likes touching those parts of you. Sometimes he just plays with you again not to get you horny or anything He just likes playing with them. By the time you wake up sadly he's already gone but his coat is over you with little gifts right next to you.

Lucifer

Will almost never indulge in sleepy time cuddling, The most you'll ever do when you fall asleep on him is kiss your forehead before tucking you in bed. Then tell you when you wake up "beds are for sleeping you should use them.". He will almost always move you to his bed before going to work. If you want to cuddle with him you're going to have to ask but he must warn you cuddling is not something he does so he's afraid that he needs some time to learn how.

Belphegor

If you fall asleep, he will almost always be there when you wake up, spooning or cuddling you. No matter where you are as long as he's there and you fall asleep He will seek your warmth and sleep with you. No matter where you are no matter where you sleep no matter how comfortable or uncomfortable he will be there. Laying in your lap, holding you in his lap, laying on top of your back, laying on your stomach, or you on his sleeping on another king. He's not picky.

He is like a cat as soon as you wake up he is already in ear warm spot in your bed snuggled.

[furiousgoldfish]

I didn't see this right away, but my parents refusing to teach me anything really got to me, and not only in the way of lacking survival skills. I was being told things like 'how old are you not to know this' and 'you should know this by now' constantly, but nobody ever took the time or patience to explain or demonstrate to me how anything works. I had school education, so I was able to absorb information, but that was still, me being one of the 20+ children sitting down, with one adult who spent more time trying to keep us disciplined and quiet, than managing to explain anything. If I didn't get anything, I was too afraid to ask. I was being told I was stupid on a daily basis anyway.

My parents insisted that I was too stupid to get anything, too clumsy and ignorant and incapable, so it wasn't worth trying to teach me anything, it was a waste of energy. I was supposed to absorb knowledge by looking at what they're doing, but they would often give me other tasks to do, I wasn't free to observe. I believed that I was specifically dumb and incapable, and this was the only reason why I didn't have any skills. I actually believed that I was clumsy, stupid, incapable of doing anything correctly. I didn't think I was worth teaching, worth mentoring.

There was one time I was in my friend's house, and there was a guitar. I touched it, fascinated, since I've never had the chance to touch one before. My friend's father saw my interest, and offered to show me how to play. I was flabbergasted. He showed me how to hold it, how to press my fingers on the strings to create different chords, how to make sound happen. It took maybe 20 minutes. But it was the first time an adult showed me how something worked, and I felt.. unworthy. I didn't understand how could I deserve so much of someone's time and patience, because it had never happened before. I couldn't retain the knowledge, because that was the last time I ever touched a guitar, I never got the chance again. I still feel indebted for that 20 minutes, it feels like too much spent on me.

I thought back to those moments a lot, thinking about how special I felt for an adult to believe that I was worth teaching. If someone gave me a guitar now, I'd be ecstatic to try and learn it, because I remember that someone thought I could, someone showed me how. All of the other skills, I had to learn while already thinking I would fail, that I couldn't do it, and had to deal with extensive negative mindset before even trying to start. There is no skill that one can do perfectly on the first time, we all start by being awful, and then slowly get better with practice. But, with the 'I fail at everything and even if I try it will go bad' mindset, the awful start feels like a confirmation that we cannot do this, that we're too incapable, or stupid, or lacking in talent. Since all my work was heavily criticized no matter how well I've done, I had to go back and figure out what things I actually do okay, and criticism was unwarranted, and where I've actually been lacking in knowledge. And that is a complicated thing to do, when all of the criticism feels so painful, and even trying to do something makes you hear the words of ridicule, degradation and berating in your head. It makes you want to go the route of perfectionism, to try and do things so well they would be above criticism in general, but that's impossible. Criticism we receive in abuse is not actual criticism, it's often directed at us only to hurt our feelings, to discourage us, mock us, make us feel inadequate, sometimes even out of jealousy or because our capabilities present a threat, so they need to run that down. But how would we know? If all feedback is negative, it's impossible for us to sort trough what is a confirmation of being awful, and what is a jealous remark created to sabotage our good work.

Sometimes it feels bad learning everything on my own. Finding online tutorials and youtube videos for every skill imaginable, sifting trough forums to find information on finances and economy, trying to put together how society works by analyzing how people live and not daring to ask them to explain how they got where they are now. I had no guidance, and sometimes things would be too complicated, and I would give up. I often wish I could ask someone to explain it to me, instead of typing questions into google. The information is stored differently when it comes from a human, it creates warmth and the knowledge that someone cared enough to explain it to me, that I didn't have to put it together from various sources myself.

Learning basic survival and life skills was unnecessarily painful for me. I still have things I cannot do, just because of how much pain is associated with them. But to think everything could have been as simple as that guitar! If every time I showed interest in something, an adult who knew how it worked sat down next to me, demonstrated it, gave it to me to hold, put my hands in the right places, and directed me to what I should do. Would I ever have trouble believing in myself? It wouldn't have crossed my mind that there's anything I can't do. Or that I would fundamentally be bad at anything, just because I'm bad at it on the first attempt. When you're a kid, you don't even know if you're doing good or bad, if your first attempt gets a 'good job!', you're incentivized to do it again, until you do get good at it. That's why we encourage children, not to lie to them, but because we know how painful it is to be told off on your first try, and that it will make the second try unlikely.

Today I understand that all skills are gained trough practice, and that I can pick and choose what skills I want, and I can get them with enough practice. I can and do give up on some that are too frustrating, and that's okay too, we are all more inclined towards some activities, while others feel bad even with improvement.

As a kid I was enveloped by fear of not being able to do anything, not being useful enough to be kept alive, never being good at anything, not finding any kind of place in the world, just because I can't do anything right. All of that fear was necessary, there's tons of stuff that anyone can do, with some more complicated stuff that one needs to be specialized in, but it's not necessary for survival, or even for earning a place in society. We all have a place, by birthright, and just having skills is not as important as with what purpose you're using them for. You can be extremely skilled and using those skills to exploit, destroy and do damage to society, or even to isolate some members of society who you can then hurt. Or you can have very few skills but be insistent on using what you do only to help those around you be safe and sound.

[saeist]

SAEIST WE NEED AN AFTER ARGUMENT FLUFF FROM OUR LOVER SAE

you and sae rarely argued.

obviously there were a few misunderstandings here and there but given that you two were adults, misunderstandings would often be patched up by the end of the day as communication is something sae values a lot especially with how most of the time, you two are in a long distance relationship with his profession and all.

sae would rather have things said right on the dot than to beat around the bush

however, communicating with the soccer super star sometimes isn't enough. especially when his stubbornness kicks in. when times are in drastic measures and you two are not on the same boat even after talking it out rationally, sometimes all hell breaks loose.

all because sae has a bad habit of ignoring you when your little misunderstanding that turns into a full blown argument that blows out of proportion.

it's very on brand of him to do so if you say so yourself.

one could say it's a force of habit given this is the treatment he gives his own manager when things aren't going the way he envisions it. but some could also say that sae is just a blatant asshole for acting like this at his grown ass age

now you might be wondering, what could you two argue about that ended up with sae ignoring you? well it's because sae can't just bite back his own tongue

you were telling him that he should take it a little slow with his trainings because intense trainings usually bring home an irritated sae that would quite literally berate everything he sees including inanimate objects such as your shared pet cactus

and sae being sae, he most likely have said some not very nice things that may have escalated into whatever predicament you two are in right now instead of compromising and working things out like you two normally would

hours have passed and it's just been silence in your shared apartment. if you listened closely you could probably hear a pin drop with how eerie quiet it was

you've already grown past the issue. in retrospect it was kinda nonsensical now that you were off the intense emotional high. now that you think about it, the whole thing that went between you and sae just sounded stupid

amidst these past few hours, sae would occassionally come out of his office to get himself a glass of water to drink or some shit from the pantry. literally anything he can get his hands on in the kitchen where he needs to pass by the living room where you were currently in

you can feel his gaze boring holes onto the back of your head whenever he was at the kitchen for like 10 seconds. you know that he was itching to talk things out with you but you know better that his pride was on the line

talk about egotistical, right?

it was dinner time when sae breaks. he honestly looks and sounds like a stray cat who just got drenched in the rain and needed to take refuge in your care

"sorry" sae murmurs, looking up from his plate to give you the look of defeat evident in his eyes

sae was sure for a while that you would be the first one to break the ice in this little cold war you two currently have going on. boy, was he wrong.

you thought it'd be time for sae to have a taste of his own medicine for a change. how it would feel to be the receiving end of his silent treatment

noticing that you weren't saying anything and continued munching on your food, he initially thought you didn't hear him clearly. so he clears his throat in attempt to catch your attention.

"i said i'm sorry" he coughs, putting down his fork as he waits for you to lift your head up to look at him in the eye while he was talking to you

silence.

sae's eyes widened. usually you'd accept his apology right away. you can't resist him, and neither can he resist you so what's with the sudden switch?

he waits a little more in case you were just busy digesting your food properly but a beat of silence passes by and you were now getting up from the table to put your dishes on the sink.

"y/n" he calls out, running after you to the kitchen. you barely even spare him a glance, maneuvering your way around him to get to the kitchen sink so you could start washing your plate

sae debates with himself if he were to call your name again but quickly realizes that you aren't going to respond any time soon. he sighs, dropping his head. looks like he just lost in his own game

instead, he gets this idea to just follow you around like a lost puppy.

to be frank, you were lowkey enjoying tormenting sae like this. it was too good to be true that he would be the one to grovel and get on his knees to beg for your attention. the way he is literally attached to your hip as you carry on with your daily night routine which should've included doing the dishes together, cleaning up together and his favorite part of the night– doing skincare together

but alas, why isn't it the consequences of sae's actions.

you two were already in bed at this point but still, you have not uttered a word to sae, who was right next to you, eyes glued to your figure, watching you like a hawk.

sae couldn't take it anymore. he doesn't want to end the day like this where you two aren't talking. it was already a hassle for him that you two didn't talk at all for the rest of the day.

not that he's gonna admit it but he misses you. he misses the way you would talk til his ears fall off. he misses your daily reports to him about whatever you did throughout the day when he was out in training. he misses the laughter in the air as you come up with a (not so) funny joke,

sae just misses you. he's not used to your silence and it's killing him

swallowing his pride, sae slowly takes it upon himself to wrap his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest

"look, i shouldn't have yelled at you like that earlier. you were just looking out for me and i've been a little preoccupied with trainings that it's getting to me. i'm sorry for being an asshole recently" sae sincerely apologizes, a hand carefully reaching to caress your cheeks

with a smile, you finally look up at sae, "took you long enough" you tease, poking his nose

sae releases the air he was holding in, now that you were finally talking to him again

"never put me through that ever again. i'd rather walk through a thousand needles than you ignoring me" sae nags, wrapping his arms around you tighter.

"now you know how i feel when you ignore me!" you retaliate, snuggling closer to him

sae suddenly kisses the side of your face. "i mean what i said though, i'm sorry for saying all those words. i know that you're just looking out for me. let me make it up to you, y/n"

you look up at him, shaking your head

"no, i totally understand that you have to go to trainings. it's fine, sae. just ease up on trainings so i don't have to worry too much for your well being. can't have my super star all worn up" you joke, nudging him in the slightest

sae smiles. what did he ever do to deserve you

"whatever. i'm still gonna make it up to you for always dealing with me"

"if it's you sae, i don't mind dealing with you at all"

[scarletwinterxx]

but if it's forever, it's even better - joshua hong imagine

helloooo

i will start this off by saying i am down bad for this man right here. ISTG i see him and i'm smiling all stupid like a school girl who has her first crush. i cannot get him off of my mind so yea now we're here😅

if there's one song i would say is written about this guy, it's birds of a feather by billie eilish. i just feel like it's so easy to love him, like you'd be sitting in a diner with him then you'd take one look and think about how you love him so much🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 okay okay i'm getting carried away😅

it's my first time writing a story outside the nct-verse hahaha but i love it🥺 maybe i'll write more svt scenarios in the future but for now, i hope you enjoy this one🤍

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Oh my god, you like him"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know we follow each other on spotify right? You've been listening to the same 6 7 songs for days now. It's a playlist isn't it?"

"Where is this conversation going exactly?"

"Who is it? Tell me"

You look at your friend confused. Soonyoung can be random at times, like right now. He just started this topic randomly.

"You like someone, you only make a new playlist when you like someone so who is it?" he asks

"No one, oh my gosh"

Just then the bell hanging by the door chimes, signaling someone just walked in. You didn't look over only to be surprised when someone sat beside Soonyoung,

"Hey guys, sorry I was late. Have you ordered?"

"Hey" you nod over at Joshua, the guy smiling back at you

Soonyoung watches the exchange, looking back and forth between you and your other friend. It's like a lightbulb just lit up in his head.

You can see his expression change, but before he could say anything you kick his leg under the table to stop him

"AH!"

You shoot him a look, meanwhile Joshua stays oblivious to the chaos. He reads the menu, looking for something to order.

"Is the coffee good?" he asks no one in particular

"Yea, she likes it" Soonyoung points at you

"Oh uh yea it's good"

"Okay, I'll go get that. Do you want anything else?"

"I'm good" your other friend answers, then the two look at you

"Me too, thanks Shua" he shoots you another smile before standing up

"Shua? SHUA? You call him Shua???"

"Yea, because that's his name" you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool

"Oh my god, it's him. You like him" he points at you

"Shut it before he comes back"

"You didn't deny it"

You shoot him another look just as Joshua takes the seat beside him again. The three of you hang out to catch up, a little tradition you do with your friends when you have free time. Sometimes, you drive around town or go on an easy hike or set up a picnic.

Sometimes your other friends join you, but today it's just the three of you.

"The sky's getting dark, it'll probably rain soon" You say while looking out the window, the two guys following your gaze

"Oh yea, we should go. Hey Joshua, can you drive her home? I have a thing I have to drive by before going home"

"Yea no problem" ever the gentleman, Joshua agrees with a smile. The three of you walk out the cafe, saying goodbye to Soonyoung as he walks over to his car. You catch him mouthing something a long the lines of "you're welcome". Probably trying to play cupid between you and Joshua.

The two of you also walk to his car, a hand behind the small of your back to guide you. Even though the ground is flat concrete, you feel like you're going to trip just thinking about how close he is.

When he gets in the car, he puts the keys in and turn the engine on. Putting one hand behind your seat as he maneuver out of the parking lot.

Joshua opens the door for you, holding a hand over your head as you get in. You're not even close to hitting the roof of the car, but still, he does it because he is the epitome of 'gentleman'. He waits for you to settle in before closing the door and jogging over the driver's side.

You can feel your cheeks get warm, it's nothing special but you had to admit he looks so good while doing such a mundane thing.

Joshua looks over at you and notices the blush on your cheeks.

"You okay, baby?"

"Shut up"

He laughs louder, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers together.

"Soonyoung thinks I have a crush on you?"

"Does he?"

"Mhm, been listening to the playlist you made me. He said I only ever make a playlist when I like someone" you tell him, you see the smile forming on his pretty lips you had to stop your self from leaning over to steal a kiss from your boyfriend.

"I mean, he's not wrong. You made me one before"

"Yea like before we dated, now you do it too"

It was how you confessed to him, too shy to say you like him to his face so you did it through songs. You thought he didn't get the message you were trying to send over because he didn't say anything to you after you sent the playlist.

You really thought he really didn't see anything other than a friend until one night while hanging out he started to play one of the songs on his guitar. It was during a party, surrounded by all your friends, with people having their own conversations all around you.

And yet your attention was on him, listening to each note he's playing.

"When will we tell him?" Joshua asks you

"Let him figure it out on his own. It's kind of fun to see him get excited over it, it's like we have a fan rooting for us"

"What if I kiss you in front if him"

"You wouldn't dare, Joshua Hong" he smirks when he heard his full name, sparing you a quick glance. He waits until the light turned red before turning over to you, a hand behind your head to pull you closer to him then he's crashing your lips against him.

His lips moving against yours in sync. Like a routine he worked hard on memorizing, he knows just how to get you chasing after his lips asking for a few more kisses. Each one taking your breath like it's the first kiss.

He's the one to break away first (even though he didn't want to, but you're in middle of the road), he kisses your nose before going back to his seat. His hand goes back to holding yours, like back to normal. Like he didn't just kiss the breath out of you.

Joshua smirks when he looks over at you, looking at him with round eyes he loves so much.

The traffic light is still red but you don't dare to tease your boyfriend again because you know he won't hesitate to do it again and then some.

"Hey, I love you" he squeezes your hand, making you look over at him

"I know" you jokingly reply, then you lean over to give him a peck on the cheek.

"Let's sit together next hang out and pretend to secretly like each other" you say, "Easy, I already look like I like you" he say

"No kisses though, have to take me out first"

"We'll call it a date then"

[hotheadedhero]

hey, can I ask for hsc tmnt 2012 ( leo sonnie mikey raph) how do they behave around your boobs, how do they react to you shaking them, touching them, random situations, e.g. when they hug to greet you and I feel your breasts pressing against his plastron

AN: I got iddy biddy tiddies so I had to think real good on this one XD

Boob Behaviour

All characters are aged up

Warnings: slightly suggestive but mostly safe by "typical" NSFW standards

2012 Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Not something to initially cross his mind or retract his attention from something in a typical day-to-day. That isn't to say that he doesn't love them but most of his adoration for you is centred around who you are as a person. He never wants to come across as the type of guy who shamelessly oggles you. Perhaps that's because he has an overly adjusted sense of being respectful.

However, low-cut tops are a different story entirely. It takes him off guard when you walk into the lair and he catches a glimpse of cleavage. His cheeks will surely burn and he has to try his best to keep his cool for the rest of the day. Matters aren't helped if you decide to train with him and they jiggle about with your movements. You look amazing.

Raphael

He'll look for excuses to touch them and sometimes it's just to annoy you. At random points in the day, he will just jab the side of your boob and walk off as if he didn't do anything, playing coy. He isn't past poking you right in the nipple either because it just gets the best jolts out of you. You love him but you can't always say you appreciate it.

Although, you can proudly say that you threw a curve ball when you stuck your chest in his face during one of your impromptu wrestling matches. You can only imagine the stars he must have been seen. The look on his face was priceless and you definitely paid for it later. Worth it, though.

Donatello

Easily flustered when it comes to your chest. He isn't the type to gawk or even make a big deal out of them but it's the moments when you hug his arm and they press into him that really make him short-circuit. It doesn't matter how long you've been together, you still make him nervous.

It especially doesn't help when you become lost in thought or space out and absentmindedly hold your breasts. You could be working on your computer and one of your hands will just cup them as you type. He can't hold a conversation with you very well when you naively squeeze them like that. Maybe one day he'll get used to it.

Michelangelo

Almost an innocent fascination when he realises how squishy they are. He manages to not be as bashful as one might think him to be. They're a part of your body and another part of you that he loves just as much as the rest of you. Why should he get so shy around a body part? That's all it is at the end of the day.

When he's lying on top of you, he likes to wrap his arms around your waist and rub his face in them. Sometimes it's to get a laugh out of you, which it does, and other times it's just because he finds them comfortable. Either way, you never have any complaints considering how sweet he is. Boy, neither does he.

[separatist-apologist]

I just read an article in that guy who murdered two women. Absolutely horrifying. All the booktok crazies fawning over him reminds me of the women that would write letters to Ted Bundy while he was in prison.

I wasn't gonna answer this because I felt like I said what I needed to say and like, I was just preaching to preach but THEN while I was asleep, an anon came into my askbox to accuse me of not being a girls girl while intentionally missing my point. I blocked them before I thought of a good comeback (tragic) but like fellas is it anti-feminist not to stan a man who killed two women because (and this is so important to me) he hates women?

I'm gonna put the rest of this under a cut with a heavy trigger warning for domestic violence, I just want to say it and then I think I'm done talking about it because it's genuinely so disheartening.

Anyway, I think sometimes I get nervous to answer these kinds of asks because as a therapist I should know better than to speculate on people and what they're going through and whatever else, but as a person, its like...do you want to be picked that badly?

I think we all know by now that I work in DV and all the people fascinated with men like this fuck me up because like..."oooh what makes him tick, I want to talk to him, why did he do it-" and for me, I sit on the opposite end talking to survivors of violence asking the same questions with hollow eyes, with shaking hands, with safety plans meant to buy them just enough time to get out of their house so they aren't killed. I still think about some of the people I spoke with who didn't survive it.

When I was in grad school, I took a summer internship at the local DV court helping survivors with orders of protection. The system was set up better than a lot of other courts, but its still the legal system, you know? With all its flaws. My job was to flag for lethality based on what I was reading in the OPs and then reach out directly to survivors to help them navigate the process, connect them with resources, and sit with them in court. And I still remember this one particular woman who's situation was so desperately dangerous. We did a safety plan- and at that level, a safety plan isn't like, "remember to take your keys and wallet with you when you go", its "don't go into the basement or bathroom if he's in the house with you because there are too many hard surfaces, exposed pipes, and basins of water that making killing you easier. Go to a bedroom or closet because strangling a person is really hard and takes time," like THAT kind of safety plan. Anyway she thanked me, I remember this so well, she said thank you and I told her I'd call her the next week with an update and over the weekend he bludgeoned her to death.

And I guess I just don't think there is anything fascinating, interesting, or otherwise unique to men like this (obligatory yes I know women kill/abuse too). They're everywhere. I saw another post about how some podcaster is trying to get him on to talk to that guy and its like, why don't you just call up one of your friends' exes. Like. If you've got more than one female friend, you've probably got a friend who has experienced violence at the hand of a male partner, call him. Talk to him. Ask him why he did it, let him give you his made up story about trauma and sadness and oh life is hard because whatever whatever.

That's my thing. Books, movies, tv- they're not making people like this, and I'm not condemning people for what they enjoy in fantasy spaces. I am condemning it when you bring it out of those spaces and side against the women who were violently murdered because, and this is so important to me (did I say this already??), he HATES women. You are not special. You cannot fix him. He's not smart, or interesting, or fascinating and the having an attractive face is literally just chance and not something inherently moral.

And like, lastly, when you prop these men up and give them a platform, you signal to EVERY man just like him that there is something special and tragic about him. You let him play the victim, you let him rewrite the narrative, you shift the blame of his actions off of him and onto the people he hurt. Like with this particular man, you also side with a white supremacist so what are you saying to all your BIPOC/Jewish friends/mutuals, you know?

Anyway. That's my self-righteous rant, I guess.

[cazzyf1]

My favourite quotes from Niki Lauda's book: "Reden wir Über Geld'

I expected him to spontaneously give me the finger - p6

I hate it when I go through security at the airport and the coins clatter around again. For this reason alone, the comparison with Scrooge McDuck, who likes to swim in money, is completely nonsense - p9

My mother regularly drove me to a Dentist behind the Vienna city hall, where I was tormented for years with regulations. I was more of a wimp, or as they say in Vienna: a slob - p13

My grandfather lived more like a real millionaire. He was the country's model industrialist and lived in a palace on the Ringstrasse with liveried servants who wore black uniforms and white gloves. Hans Lauda was the general director of the Veitsch Magnesitwerke. The Nazis dismissed him in 1938, but he returned to his post after the war. As president of the Austrian Industrial Association, he was one of the pioneers of social partnership and the economic miracle. He was also president of the Red Cross until 1974 and was therefore personally acquainted with Princess Grace Patricia, who was the president of the Red Cross in Monaco. In 1956 he organized aid for thousands of Hungarian refugees. I was only seven at the time, but I know from stories. - p14

Still in my pajamas, I heated up a toy steam engine. Beforehand, I mixed the water in the boiler with iron filings. Which of course wasn't such a good idea. There was an explosion and the hot steam burned my right thigh. My parents were done. I mostly argued with my brother Florian. To this day, we have no common interests, just the fact that we are brothers. One time I was lying in bed when Florian climbed onto the bedside table and tried to jump on me. I tipped the table over with my foot and my brother hit the floor. Then my father came and gave me a slap. Sometimes we played fire brigade together. To make the whole thing a bit more authentic and challenging, one day I brought a canister over, poured the petrol out lit it and ordered Florian to put out the fire. Although the hoses were ready, the fire briefly got out of control. The garage almost burned down and a few fruit trees were singed. - p15-16

I never dreamed of flying, and I certainly didn't see flying as a worthwhile hobby. I wanted to be faster. I wanted to save time. Because I was already earning a decent amount of money at the time, I had brought a Cessna Golden Eagle, had my own pilot and learned the practical side of things by flying with others. I became a student pilot and my preferred route was Salzburg-Bolgona. That made double sense. That's how I got into flying, got one license after another and four years later I founded an airline as the first Formula 1 driver and professional pilot. - p28

I also wanted to coax a private Ferrari out of the Commendatore, but he only gave me a Fiat - p34

I usually carry around 300 to 400 euros with me, 500 at the most. If there are several notes, I hold them together with a money clip. I've never had a wallet. I avoid coins in everyday life. Not that I don't value small change, but it's too heavy in my pockets and I don't like the clatter - p36

Max and Mia also like to play 'police' they drive wildly through the house on their astic scooters and I have to say: "Stop! You were driving too fast. That will cost you thirty euros." They then count to thirty together, in English. - p37

Brigit once asked me to take the bus because the twins like doing it so much. "Sure!" I said, "I'll do it. How do you pay?" In the end I let it go. - p38

I loved spinach even as a small child, because of popeye the sailor - p39

In Spielberg I once asked him: "Lewis, do you see anything about me that needs to be improved?" He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that moment. Then he explained to me: "You should throw away that brown sweater immediately! That is the worst color for a man. And you need different pants! Not always the same ones and besides, they just don't fit." I enjoyed listening to that and thinking about it. But then I came to the following conclusion: Why should I change anything if everything is fine for me? "Thanks for the input", I said to Lewis, "but even if my blue jeans are down to my knees hang down, I just feel so comfortable in them." - p39/40

It was also Forghieri who came up with the idea of suggesting a sponsor for my red cap. "Watch out," he said one day, "there is a salami company that now wants to get into milk production, which would be interested in advertising." - p43-4

I crossed the finish line in a first Grand Prix, with Clay Regazzoni behind me, so it was a double victory for Ferrari, a true triumph. That night, they played Blue Danube Waltz in the disco in my honour. - p45

When I sit in the cockpit, for example, I notice every speck of dust. As a farewell gift, employees of LaudaAir gave me a man size brush as a nod to my cleanliness obsession - p52

Willi Dungl wanted to find out whether I had suffered trauma from the inferno. He once lit a fire in the fireplace at my home in Salzburg and said, "look at that Niki!" I looked inside, but nothing was moving. I also couldn't care less about the fire in the accident photo - p57-8

I had waited my whole life for a guy like Attila Dogudan - p91

Is Attila Dogudan my friend? I don't want to say anything wrong now. My perception of friendship around this is that people meet in the evenings and spend their hours talking about their worries. The only person who sometimes notices my worries is Birgit - sometimes she whistles at me! -p95/6

I would describe Atilla as my long-term companion - p96

If he didn't answer I would send him an SMS: "I'll cancel the entire catering if you don't call in five minutes." Of course he calls back immediately - p97

My brother Florian, who is 18 months younger than me, is a Buddhist - p107

But the main issue was a heart operation for a three year old boy called Soumitra. That cost a few thousand euros, which we transferred straight away. We then received photos of the child before and after the operation. Since then, when I meet Claudia, I always ask her; "how is my heart?" I mean the heart of this little Indian boy, who has been able to live a normal life since the operation. P109

Fourfiveseconds by Rihanna is such an incredibly great song. Lewis Hamilton, who now makes music himself, sometimes goes with me to promotional events. He is always amazed at the songs I have saved, like an old idiot. 'Some nights' by fun, or George Ezra'a Budapest. I have hundreds of songs like that saved on my iphone and listen to them over and over again - p114

When Birigt wants something from me and I'm feeling defiant, I play her, 'Hero' by Family of the year - p115

When we have a little tangle I play her 'Blame it on me' - p115

Sometimes Birgit, who loves red wine, jokes; "drink another glass of wine, my kidney needs it!" I then sip the glass because I just don't like red wine - like alchol in general - p117

In 2000 I came up with the idea of flying into space. There are several programs running for such flights. I already tried it out in a simulator in Houston, Texas - p122

Later on I explained to my boys that there are also people with two ears. We laughed together. - p143

When Lukas was 15, I took him to a strip club. Sex education. I was shocked myself at how close women were to him. They danced around and took off one thing after another. Lukas watched it all. When it was over he stood up, took off his shirt, and put it around the dancers shoulders so that she wouldn't freeze. It was a really caring gesture. Then I knew: that guy not only has manners, but also heart. Lukas wanted to invite her out but I advised him against it. - p143/144

Sometimes Marlene went crazy when she found out about one of my escapades but she never said a bad word about me in front of the children - p144

In her boundless generosity, Marlene would have taken Christoph into our family, but his mother didn't want that - p145

[feroluce]

So this ficlet-ish thing was inspired by @hydrachea, nsfw super genius extraordinaire, but also by the fact that in addition to Boothill's left eye being cybernetic, I like to hc even the parts of him that look human aren't fully natural. I mean the dude eats bullets, after all. I think he should also have vents in his mouth so he can literally blow smoke/steam, it would look super cool. Think Father Gascoigne or Studio BONES' Todoroki. We as a fandom deserve that!!

So anyway, of course, sometimes these vents get blocked up and need to be cleaned manually. Thankfully, Dan Heng is super helpful ☆

Like there's one day where Boothill is lazing around in the archives, fresh off a bounty and happily soaking up the luxury of the Astral Express after however long he's spent tracking his prey through all the dust and dirt with almost no rest.

Boothill likes it in the archives. It's not silent, but it's quiet. There's no music and only muffled voices from outside, but there's the hum of all the computer systems. It makes for a nice place to hide away and recharge when he's just finished exhausting himself.

And besides, Dan Heng is there.

Sometimes the two of them talk back and forth, but today it's mostly quiet...except for-

"I didn't know it was possible for you to get sick."

...Except for Boothill having to constantly clear his throat. That's the thing about your mark trying to flee into the desert. You either go after them and get sand everywhere (and even worse, sticky sand once it gets all bloody) or you wuss out and lose out on the bounty. Personally, Boothill likes being able to afford to eat.

"Grit's stuck in a vent somewhere, 'n' the usual maintenance ain't gettin' it. I'll prob'ly have ta manually dig it out." But later, when he's not laid out half asleep on Dan Heng's extra futon. Usually after a chase as long as this one took, he can shut down for almost a full day. He doesn't want to get up yet.

Something shadows over him, and reflex demands Boothill's eye open. Dan Heng steps around him on his way to some drawer built in the wall on the other side of the room or something. Boothill closes his eye again.

From under his hat he hears the sounds of rummaging, drawers sliding open and shut, the swish of a long coat. The shadow returns.

"Sit up, just momentarily. I have something to help." And Boothill groans a tired don't wanna, but he does it anyway, he hauls himself upright into a kneel. And then he sits up a little straighter because he realizes Dan Heng is standing right over him.

Dan Heng tells him "open your mouth," and Boothill's jaw pops open without his permission, without even a second thought, and hey, what protocol in there ok'd THAT?!?!

Before he can really unpack whatever the heck that just was, though, Dan Heng murmurs for him to say so if he needs them to stop, and then he's sliding a long, hard rod down Boothill's throat, tipped with some soft little brush he probably uses for all his fancy archival equipment.

Dan Heng tells him the handle of the brush is straight and can't be bent, he needs to move his head to be able to reach the vent in his throat. Boothill hums affirmatively; he can't do anything else with his mouth occupied.

Dan Heng's free hand holds him by his jaw, tilts it up slowly but firmly so he has to look straight up at him.

Boothill feels dizzy.

The cycle of blue blood through his artificial heart whirrs just a bit faster, his temperature sensor pings an internal alarm to warn for imminent overheating. Boothill curls his fingers into the guard over his knee as Dan Heng carefully brushes at the dust irritating him. All other sounds- the hum of running equipment, the occasional beep from the computers, the noise of the crew outside of this room- seem to pull away, until all Boothill can focus on is the steady and measured breathing from the man above him.

"Almost done."

Thank the aeons, maybe one of them likes him after all.

"Your tongue is in the way... I'm going to hold it down, ok?"

Nevermind.

The fingers holding his jaw curl around his chin, thumb slipping past open lips to dip into his mouth and pin down his tongue. One of his teeth catch on the digit, breaking skin just enough to bleed a drop where he can taste it. Dan Heng doesn't even flinch. Another temperature alarm pings off in his brain, then another, then another.

Boothill has never been shy about eye contact but oh, god, it nearly kills him when dull green irises flick away from their task and look down right at him as his mouth is held open. He quickly squeezes his own eye shut for some relief.

With his vision cut off, the rest of his senses automatically recalibrate to compensate. He can hear every breath even more distinctly now, every soft inhale and exhale, feel the strain in his neck, the softness of the brush, the hard floor beneath his knees, the hand holding his jaw and the fingerprints that feel like they should leave burns in his skin, the taste of Dan Heng heavy on his tongue-

Forget it, eye open, eye open!!

"Alright. There's one last pebble stuck."

Boothill had been trained to endure torture, back on his homeworld. It was part of being in a gang, part of being a bounty hunter.

Somehow, keeping himself quiet and still as Dan Heng inches the brush even further down the back of his throat is a profoundly similar experience.

The seconds tick by, Dan Heng's brow furrowing, face growing ever more concentrated and Boothill struggles not to watch him too closely, fights down the noise that suddenly tries to escape him as the brush withdraws-

"Swallow."

Stars and aeons, Dan Heng is going to be the death of him.

Boothill swallows. He feels it when the movement finally dislodges the loosened pebble from his vent.

His face feels shockingly cold now bereft of touch, even though Dan Heng's hands are always cool. He asks to see, and Boothill's mouth is already open again to show him, even as he belatedly realizes he could have just told him it had worked.

"Good." There's the slightest smile on Dan Heng's lips as he finally, mercifully, leans back out of his personal space, goes to put away the brush. "That should feel better now." Boothill spends a moment dizzy and dazed, feeling the need to blink spots out of his eye even though his vision is clear. He still hasn't moved off his knees.

What the fudge.

[pinkandpurple360]

I know many folks have talked about all of the manipulative tactics Stolas used in FM and AT, but i wanted to focus on a couple in particular.

Stolas says "Why would I allow everyone to see how much I like you?" The only time he has openly flirted with Blitz not caring what others think are people who can't do anything. AKA other imps and Via. He openly harassed Blitz in Loo Loo Land cause wtf are other imps gonna do about it? And he sure didn't proactively think how his own DAUGHTER felt about it until she had to storm off. Other instance was at the Harvest Moon Festival in front of... you guessed it.... imps.

He only ever got nervous and embarrassed around those with more power and authority over him (COUGH COUGH OZZIES). It's so fucking disingenious.

After Blitz mocks the shit out of him his response is "Do you ever feel remorse for the things you do? Have you ever apologized once in your life?" This line is a straight up bald-faced lie cause heloooo, the end of Ozzies is RIGHT THERE. And I believe that's the first time Blitz genuinely apologized, and it was for not providing company to Stolas after the shitshow at Ozzie's.

This tactic is not only obviously gaslighting, but it's negging. Stolas is negging Blitz to try and do better and live up to his projected fantasies.

Stolas literally said he WANTED Blitz to apologize for "assuming the worst because he was convinced a prince could never love someone like him and he let his self-hatred stop him from apologizing to anyone he could ever care about." (Sorry if the quote is clunky it was Blitz's exact quotes but I had to change around some pronouns)

Anywho, Stolas KNOWS (and possibly KNEW for a while) Blitz's self-esteem problems. How long did he know? When did he get that idea from Blitz? The Full Moon episode? Ozzie's? Before that? Who knows. But it doesn't detract that he seems to want Blitz to languish in self-hatred, not necessarily for recognizing their inherent race/power dynamic, but how DARE he NOT be "colorblind." And Stolas has no issue straight up gaslighting, blatantly LYING, and negging to get to that goal.

I think the only reason too many people are so f-ing oblivious to these problems is they time gaps between eps makes them fuzzy and they fill in the blanks with fanfic or headcanons. Cause I remember watching Full Moon and just feeling gross, so I rewatched ALL of HB episodes and it made me better understand why. And its so nice seeing other people speak out about that same feeling. Sometimes I genuinely wonder if Viv never rewatched previous eps of HB....

She said you’re supposed to watch them all at once. And uh. According to all these compilation videos, when you do that stolas looks like a massive hypocrite and a liar and the blaming shift feels insane.

All of his public behaviour was very humiliating and he was asked the entire time to stop doing it. But he didn’t take no for an answer. Instead of talking about how violating this is to blitz, we’re engaging solely in conversations about obliviousness and stolas’ upbringing. And at Ozzies he was plain ashamed to be with him when it was a royal demon and not commoners, which humiliated him greatly.

Medrano worries me when she calls Angel Dust forcing himself onto Husk “overbearing” or Stolas coercively raping Blitzø for a year and ignoring all protests as “not being self aware” “coming on too strong” as if stolas’ awareness is all that matters.

Putting all the blame on the person who was raped by a racist man as “assuming the worst”? But everything he said was true about stolas. He was dismissed like a butler, replaced like a toy, ordered around like a child. Playing with Blitzøs feelings because he’s smaller and his feelings are not as important as his own. He should apologise for his feelings of hurt as just being a product of his mental illness.

Many lines like that were horrendous on my ears to listen to. That one and “you sound like that vile striker friend of yours who tried to kill me and you couldn’t be bothered to come help me

Her continuity is in the toilet and it’s such a shame. One of the biggest problems is getting a brand new idea to replace the old one, she needs to curb that instinct and stay confident in her original ideas because they are good. They need to be sought all the way through.

And yeah he basically is forcing Blitzø to become race blind and apologise for discriminating against royals. That entire thing striker said about some people having to live hard lives? Woooosh. None of that sank in.

Maybe it’s just my bias for the little fella but Stolas as a monarch with an overly high opinion of himself, who needs advice, and who needs to take a closer look at himself, could use the help of a court jester.

I keep saying this show is poisonous to abuse victims who aren’t innocent pure princesses like fizz and stolas. Blitzø has to apologise for his self loathing, for expecting racism from the ‘superior’ race, he has to apologise for demanding a moment to think, and to be listened to. He has every right to demand respect in a relationship. If he didn’t yell stolas wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. I remember when my own gaslighter would catch me calling him out, putting the pieces together of what he’s doing, when his intimidation didn’t work, and he’d always act tearful saying “you’re scaring me!” The enablers would say okay yes you’re points have something to them but you’re out of control!

[talesofwhimsy]

"As we hang up the map on the motel wall Count up the places that we've left behind, add the distances between them all All the bridges that someone's burned down for us All the chances that we burned all by ourselves

Makes us wonder what we were thinking then 'Cause we will never see Ireland again"

[starry-bi-sky]

tales of the passerine - danny fenton being bruce wayne's first kid

okay okay. so this is like a continuation/elaboration of my oneshot/prompt i wrote about the idea that Danny was the first batkid. We have a lot of aus where he joins the family after the rest of the bats do, right? So hey! Lets shake things up a bit. Danny is the first to be adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Danny's parents and unfortunately Jazz die shortly after the events of TUE -- how so? I was gonna say an ecto-filter explosion, that would call back to the TUE explosion and trauma behind that. But lets do something new! Carbon-monoxide poisoning.

It's not too unexpected for something to break in the Fenton house, especially with the Fenton parents' questionable understanding of proper weapon handling and lab safety. The water heater broke from a stray shot by one of the weapons, and was promptly MacGyver'd incorrectly. Danny went to stay with Tucker for a guys' night, and came back to a dead silent house.

(Danny's neighbors got a very unfortunate shock when he ran to the next house over in hysterics.)

There was a lot of shuffling around with CPS, the police. People had to be called in to handle the equipment in the lab, and the GIW was rumoring to show up in aid to clearing the scene. When Danny heard of that, he immediately went and dismantled the ghost portal to the best of his abilities. He burned the physical blueprints of all his parents' inventions, their blueprints on the ghost portal, and their most dangerous weapons were destroyed beyond recognition. Anything to prevent the GIW from getting their hands on his parents' tech.

It opened up another investigation, but he was not under the list of suspects. He was placed in the care of Vlad Masters, where they then went back to the rebuilt castle mansion in Wisconsin. Danny, terrified of the future that has once passed and may do so again, shuts down in his grief. Inadvertently, he ends up somewhat repressing his ghost half. Something Vlad, who is grieving Madeline but relishing in Jack's demise and his custody of Daniel, is not very happy with.

Vlad's... gone into a bit of a mental health spiral. He's becoming increasingly possessive over Daniel, the final remnants of his friends and a liminal being like him. He doesn't like that Danny's repressing his ghost half -- both out of genuine concern as a ghost, but also because of his desire to control Danny and groom him into the perfect son. If you ever had a phase where you read Dark SBI found family fics, first off; me too bro, and second off; those are the vibes I'm thinking of.

Danny's mentally shut down from grief! And fear. He's dropped into a bad depressive state -- paralyzed with grief and the terror of the inevitable. Clockwork saved his parents because he believes in second chances, but what's the point of that when his family ended up dead anyways? Danny doesn't wanna believe that he's destined to become evil, and he's holding out onto that hope, but it's a thin line, and he feels utterly hopeless and trapped. He hasn't used his powers or ghost form since he trashed the lab, and Vlad has alarms set up to prevent him from trying to escape.

He's also unintentionally cut off Sam and Tucker -- both of whom are so scared and concerned for Danny too, and are trying their damndest to reach out to him. He keeps ignoring their texts. Danny basically haunts Vlad's manor. He goes out to eat if he has to, attends parties Vlad drags him to, and stays in his room all day if he can.

At parties, Vlad doesn't allow Danny to leave his side, or really talk to anyone -- not that Danny wants to. A product of Vlad's increasing possessiveness. Well, he almost doesn't let Danny leave his side. Danny has a habit of slipping off to hide somewhere for the parties whenever he can, and Vlad reluctantly allows it so long as he stays alone.

This becomes an advantage when eventually, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham after missing for years, and holds a bright charity ball to celebrate the return. Vlad has been chomping at the bits to get his hands on Wayne Industries, and with the return of its owner there is no better opportunity to wipe out his rival. He goes, and he as normal, brings Daniel with him.

Vlad thinks Wayne will bleed his little heart out for Daniel's poor orphan sob story -- he's a fellow orphan himself, after all. He's not wrong; Wayne's little heart will bleed, just not in the way that benefits him.

Bruce sees Vlad and Danny approaching before they're even close enough to introduce themselves - and like with many of the children he will soon come to care for, it's like someone set a mirror into the past right in front of him.

Danny Fenton's suit is tailor-made for him, and despite the fact that it's his perfect size, the sag in his shoulders, the ducked down head, and the way he hunches into himself all pictures the image of a child in shoes too big for him. There's a far away, glazed over look in his eyes and grief marble-cut into the lines of his face. There's not enough makeup in the world that will hide the dark circles under his eyes.

("My nephew, Daniel Fenton." Vlad's hands are possessive on Danny's shoulders. Bruce immediately notices the way the boy tenses under his touch. "His parents passed recently, and as his godfather I was designated his guardian.") ("I'm so sorry, the loss must've been terrible.") ("Yes, carbon-monoxide poisoning caused it. Daniel was out with friends, when he came home... they had already passed.") (Bruce immediately dislikes that Vlad shared the details of their death unprompted -- he likes it even less when Danny flinches at the reminder and hunches into himself.)

Danny runs off at some point earlier into the charity. At this point, parties are still being held at Wayne Manor (because iirc google search mentioned that was a thing at first before it was changed), so he disappears and hides in one of the empty rooms nearby. It just so happens to be the same room Bruce Wayne hides in when he needs a break from all of the socialization.

Thus begins a long, long process of trust. Bruce can't reveal his hand as being smarter than he looks, but he can be compassionate. Kindness needs no measure of intelligence. He keeps Danny company for as long as he can before he runs the risk of being found.

Rinse and repeat. Vlad insistently wants Wayne Industries, and he'll go to as many Wayne parties as he can to get his hooks into the man. The problem is that Bruce Wayne is never alone, and getting him alone is impossible. Finding him too. It's like the man never stops moving. Always talking to someone, always circling somewhere. He orbits around the room as if he isn't the sun of the Gotham Elite's solar system.

Danny's had such repetitive behavior that Vlad never thinks to believe that Bruce Wayne is disappearing to go talk to him. That "Vlad's" son is even interacting with him at all. Danny never gives him a reason to think so, and neither does Bruce.

Danny doesn't actually acknowledge Bruce until a handful of parties in, where he hands Bruce a small slip of paper he smuggled in that says; "don't trust Vlad". Danny's face stays carefully blank, but he's so tense that his hands are trembling, and he's purposely looking away from him. Bruce plasters a smile onto his face, slips the paper into his pocket, and tells him "okay".

(he's been busy with his own goals with the mafia, but he sets aside time to investigate Vlad Masters. He was holding off. Until now.)

Danny does eventually start speaking to Bruce, he's starting to really like the guy. He's starting to see a little hope, even as Vlad is starting to get more and more agitated with him the more he refuses to use his powers.

He reaches out to Sam and Tucker again, and starts trying to reconnect with them. Vlad has spyware on his phone, and he limits the amount of times he can talk to them. A weird parental control lock of some sort that leaves a time limit on how long he can talk to them for. 30 minutes. Danny doesn't tell them anything about Mr. Wayne.

Danny, slowly, wants out of here, and he's slowly gathering the motivation to do it. Vlad is genuinely scaring him -- and Danny wonders just how truthful the past-future Vlad was when he told him that Danny wanted his ghost half separate. He starts trying to come up with an escape plan.

Vlad has anti-ghost wards everywhere around the mansion, and while they're always on, they boost to full power at sunset. The doors and windows are always locked, all main exits have alarms set on them. The only reason it's not super extensive is because Danny hasn't tried leaving at all yet, so Vlad hasn't had to tighten anything.

At night, Vlad locks the door to his room and puts up an anti-ghost ward around the room. The mansion is on the outside westward side of Madison, more entrenched in rural Wisconsin. The closest town is a four-way stop sign with one house on three corners, and an open bar on the fourth. Not much to go.

He refuses to go to Sam and Tucker; Vlad would look there first. It's too dangerous. Vlad would sound alarm bells and have a manhunt looking for him, Danny can't risk going just anywhere. Too much risk of being found, sold out, or caught. There's really nowhere for him to hide.

Until there is. Bruce is telling Danny about the history of Wayne Manor, and says, as casually as saying the weather; "The manor has dozens of empty rooms, I'm sure Alfred wouldn't mind filling another one if he could." And quietly, hesitantly, Bruce places a careful hand on Danny's shoulder, unrestrictive and gentle; "He wouldn't mind getting one ready for you if you need one."

And there it is. There's his out.

Danny, just as quietly, replies; "I'll keep that in mind."

The ball starts rolling.

Now I've been trying to summarize this au as much as possible for length convenience, but Vlad has been steadily growing more and more controlling. More emotionally manipulative. More agitated at Danny for not using his powers.

He wants Wayne Industries under his thumb but he's been steadily growing more and more concerned with Danny. He's started grabbing him, yanking him around, shaking him; trying to goad him into using his powers. He gets angry when Danny doesn't react, or tells him he doesn't want to use his powers. He hasn't outright attacked him, but he's getting there. This has been happening over the time it takes for Bruce to indirectly offer Danny sanctuary at his home.

It all comes to a head when Vlad stops going to parties at all -- something Danny has to pretend he isn't upset about -- because Vlad doesn't want him around other people anymore. Vlad rarely goes now without him, and only leaves to go to a Wayne function or to handle something at VladCo.

Danny can't wait for Vlad to leave long enough to escape. So he leaves during the night of a big storm. Vlad's locked him in his room, but Danny doesn't bother trying to go for it; he goes to the alarmed window instead. Danny's been repressing his ghost half so long that he can't access his powers immediately anymore -- he can feel it, he knows its there, but he can't quite reach it.

He breaks the lock by hand.

Immediately the alarm goes off through the entire castle, filling the room with red, and he scrambles for the rope the Wisconsin Ghost left for him a few months back. Danny's already out and climbing down the side of the castle before Vlad even reaches his door -- the only good thing about the entire room being ghost-proof is that Vlad can't get in that way.

The rope ends before it reaches the bottom, and he's still twenty feet in the air. It won't kill him if he lands it right. Danny takes his chances, and drops. He breaks his ankle, but he survives.

And he fucking books it to the back garden. He hears Vlad shrieking over the thunder and rain.

I'll save the full experience for a future oneshot, but Danny makes it out into the nearby woods and forcibly experiences what it's like to be in a horror game, trying to hide from the thing that's hunting you. There's only one thing going through his mind; "i'm going to die"

I have this mental image for this scene. Very stereotypical horror imo. Where Danny is hiding behind a tree, with a hand over his mouth, and Vlad is a few feet away from him, glowing ominously red through the trees, trying to search for him.

Danny doesn't get away from this unscathed, but he does get away alive. That's all he could ask for. He gets away by getting his ghost half awakened long enough to transform into Phantom and fly to Gotham.

But he gets to Wayne Manor, he gets to Bruce. Or, at least, Alfred answers the door from his insistent pounding. Danny's just in tears and Alfred gets him in the living room, wrapped in a towel, with ice on his swollen leg before he has to step out and alert Bruce.

Bruce already breaks multiple traffic laws on a nightly basis. And that's just with the sheer existence of the batmobile itself, not including the speeding and military artillery attached. He breaks double the amount trying to speed back to the cave and get out of the suit.

Right off the bat: Bruce will know, at least before Dick enters the picture, about danny's powers. He'll figure out something considering the fact that Danny traveled from Wisconsin to New York in a single night. That'll be a bit of complicated affair, but I've already got something in mind.

Actually it'll probably be very soon after Danny joins the family, because Bruce tries to offer to fight for custody for Danny - the state Danny was in at arrival is clear enough evidence for a trial. But Danny immediately shuts it down, says it's not going to work and then Vlad will know Danny's with him and he won't be safe. He tells him that Vlad cannot know Danny was with Bruce.

Danny's biggest regret was not telling his parents he was a halfa, and while he doesn't want to tell mister wayne (yet), he does tell him about Vlad being one. He needs to know why Danny can't be seen with Bruce. So he tells him, and Danny's current plan is to just hide out from Vlad until he turns 18. That way, he has no more legal jurisdiction over him. After that? He's not sure.

And to wrap this up, since this has already gotten very long and I can make more posts about this au later; I've thought about it, and I'm going to say that Danny does become a vigilante before Dick enters the scene. He goes by, as you probably guessed; Nightingale. "Gale" for short.

[covertblizzard]

jaykyle au where they're theatre kids in the same school but they're not the actors jason's the scriptwriter/director and kyle is the prop manager (i don't know the official terms sorry) and they'd probably do an amazing job on the backstage setting if they could stop arguing for 5 whole seconds about their artistic visions and ideas and how "this would obviously work better this way"