#the black book is just even more carols

[mararabbit]

[•You didn’t have the heart to tell Noelle that it’s only December 1st.]

[duckybuiltwrong]

Christmas Carol- Platonic Y. Batfam

Chapter 1

CW: Decaying skin (not that descriptive, it is a ghost of a dead person.), hints at past abuse or neglect.

A cold and dark night is something that strikes fear into most of the criminals of Gotham. Running around this close to Christmas day was bountiful. Pickpocketing people with money that was meant to be spent on presents for their loved ones. This caused most criminals to take the chance, either to be caught by the Batman or come home with dollars on dollars, if the right people were robbed. Luckily for the criminals, Batman was not out on the streets. Oh, no. The indestructible, the unbeatable, the world’s greatest detective and father, was out of commission. Unable to work, clearly and terribly-

“I am not that sick,” Bruce held a firm face to Dick, as his eldest slowly led him away from the batcave, giving his siblings a quick nod to go ahead and start on their patrols, “I am not saying that you are dying. I am just saying you need a break. It is a low fever that can get worse-”

Bruce interrupted the young adult, “I am aware of how fevers work, these nights however,-” The young adult shot right back, “Can be handled by the rest of us- which is more than enough.” Dick said as he pressed the button to the elevator, letting Bruce get on as Dick stood in the elevator door, “I already texted Alfred, he should be giving you medication sooner or later. Please, actually get some rest and not try to be a hero for the next few nights.” Dick pleaded with his puppy eyes and Bruce was too tired to fight Dick on it, “Okay, only for the next few nights.” Bruce would never admit it though, Dick and him both knew that.

Resting, however, was not going to his own bed. No, for Bruce, it was going to his office in his own home and working. He was resting, his body could get the rest it required. The ache in his limbs and subtle headache would not slow the hero. Of course not, Batman never slows, but Bruce Wayne does. 

So in the study, where the Grandfather clock that belonged to Thomas Wayne and so forth sat, ticking away. The walls are lined with books or photos. The main one being a family portrait with its own space. Bruce in the chair as everyone from Dick to Duke surrounded him. Even Damian had stood still for it. Despite being raised by assassins, he still moved around like a child.

Bruce sat at his desk. His leather seat under him as he was in a white undershirt and blue plaid lounge pants. The room was lit by his desk’s lamp, the fireplace, and a scented candle. The same scent his father and him used to get every year, it was Bruce’s favorite.

As Bruce sat at the desk, his trashcan next to it was being filled with snotty tissues. Bruce was going over some of his company’s paperwork. Looking into charities, programs, and branches of his company. Using his computer to check the money spent and earned. Bruce knew it was early night, it got dark faster in these days of winter. The time should have been nine or ten o'clock, but as Bruce sat there, the grandfather clock struck. Bruce knew it was probably going to stop around the ninth to tenth ding but no, it went for more until twelve were given. 

As Bruce turned to look at the clock, he was confused. Bruce turned to the clock on his computer to see it was off, but staring at his face was not his. No, on the black screen of the computer was a ghostly figure. Bruce shot up from his seat. His feet planted firmly under him to hold his body up, the figure on the computer was gone. Bruce could not think much of it as a sudden, freezing, gust of wind hit his body. A shiver cruel and hard crawls up his body as the same gust of wind carries his paper off his desk. The gust alone was not what caused such a violent shiver to hit him however, no. It was the sound of the gust, it sounded like a distant wail.

Bruce sighed as he wrote it off, he was paranoid. A ‘worry wart’ as Alfred always called him. Bruce went around his desk to get the paper when another gust surrounded him. But instead of the quiet wail, it seemed almost louder, like a whisper in his ear. It sounded so heart broken and it made him a bit sick to his stomach. Bruce grabbed the paper and stood up tall, before marching over to his studies window. He was going to see who was crying outside of it, it could be a gardener. But when he opened the curtains abruptly, only the city stared back. Seeing the window completely locked and closed made Bruce think that something was not right. So as he closed the curtains again, he was spooked when the clock struck again. But it never stopped at one, no. It went all the way back to twelve.

The light from his desk started to go out as another harsh wind swept the room. The papers on his desk go flying. The fireplace crackled wildly and harshly before going out. The bulb on the desk lets out a popping noise as it too went out. Only the candle sat, untouched. But Bruce went to pick the papers up quickly. He watched as a zombified hand reached from behind the desk, reaching for the candle. His gut twisted as the index and thumb finger of the hand pinched the wick, the light leaving the room.

It did not stay dark though. A glow came from a figure now standing in front of the family portrait. Their hair was long and flowed with unseen or felt wind. It was a woman, the dress was a dead give away. But instead of it being a regular woman, she was decaying. Even as her back was to Bruce, he could see her arms and feet, flesh peeling off and muscle seen.

The chains on the figure also caught his eye. A chain trained from a children’s book to under her hair, a chain on her neck. Shackles on her wrists and ankles. The weights to those were other child related things. A teddy bear, a mostly ripped drawing, and a hairbrush were the more prominent things.

Bruce could see the light surrounding her, it was a cold blue. Lonely and sad, but as he watched her. The figure moved, not to him or towards the painting. No, their shoulders shook with force and they hunched forward. Their weighted hands holding their face as they let out a sob. As the figure cried, Bruce finally lets out a breath, but it came out as a puff of air. The type you could see in freezing temperatures. Bruce did not notice how cold it had gotten until then. Bruce needed to understand why this figure was in his home and what they wanted. 

Bruce stepped forward to talk to the ghost but his foot crunched on one of the weights on accident. A sudden tune came from the weight, a music box that had Winnie the Pooh on top of it. He was in a dancing pose as the figurine spun in a circle. Bruce could not dwell on it for too long because right after, the woman lets out a mighty scream towards Bruce. Bruce backed away on instinct as the woman glared at him. Her body turned around now and the light turned from a cold blue to a purple. It was dark and stung Bruce’s chest with a heavy weight of fear…no, it was anger. Rage. Bruce realized it was not his but her’s. She beat him to breaking the silence, “You dare break another thing of theirs?” She accused Bruce. 

“Of whose-” Bruce tried to speak but the woman looked horrified and  fearful, to angry and torn. The sides of her cheeks were held together by muscles. Her collarbone was poking through a sliver of decaying skin. “DO NOT ACT AS IF THEY ARE NOT KNOWN! THEY ARE YOURS!” She wailed. Bruce quickly knew he could not get anywhere with a woman who was this hysterical…woman? Maybe banshee, better suited the cries and wails coming from her. “Mine? Who is mine?” Bruce tried to calm the situation even though her feelings were clouding his. He wanted to cry so badly right now because of her. “They are not even in the picture.” The woman sunk to the ground as she sobbed. She looked over her shoulder at the photo. Her tears were the colors she reflected. Falling to the ground in a blueish purple to only dissipate after hitting the ground. The woman stood shakily. Her legs looked as if they would cave out from under her at any minute.

She took shaky steps to the painting which filled Bruce with sudden fear. The woman reached for a tear and started to touch the painting before Bruce could stop her. The tears burned into the painting as she drew precisely. A figure being drawn fast as the tears on her fingers seemed to have their own mind. So only a few seconds later, did the woman back up to look at the finished product. “Who is-” Bruce started as he stared at the unfamiliar person the woman drew onto the painting. 

The woman turned to Bruce as the books on the shelves started to shake and fly. Some only shake and others stay on their shelf. “You forget them?” The woman asked, so heart broken. “I entrusted them to you and you forget? Our baby?” The woman stepped closer to Bruce as he took a step back, “I am sorry-”

“Our Y/n- YOU FORGOT THEM!” She screeched the grandfather clock dung multiple times again and again, going past twelve. Bruce tensed up, “Y/n? I do not know a- I do, yes.” Bruce spoke suddenly to the woman. She seemed to relax at this. Looking down at her feet to the books. “You have no children's books.” she stated as she looked at her feet. Bruce nodded even as she could not see him, “Yes, I have no need for them.” She just clenched her fist, “They needed them at some point, did you buy them for Y/n?” The woman spoke and Bruce tensed again, he never realized he had relaxed with the energy from her glow. “They never asked for-”

“They should not have to.” The woman snapped at him. “INJUSTICE! YOU DO THIS AGAINST A CHILD AS THEIR FATHER! YOU SHOULD BUY THEM ANYWAY! YOU HAVE THE MONEY TOO.” The woman wailed as she marched to Bruce. She took one of the weights, which was the teddy bear on her left wrist, and picked it up like it weighed a boulder. Using it to throw it at his chair behind his desk. It went through his desk and landed in the chair, she used it to yank the chair against the desk until the chair moved the desk from her force in a quick motion. As she did, she screamed at Bruce which caused him to fall into his chair and she climbed onto him. Moving to clutch his chest, “our deed has done this to them. We did not love each other and now they are punished for it. Cut from our cloth only to be treated like its own garment. They were not prepared.” The woman looked at Bruce, they met eyes before she looked at his lips. “They were such a delicate piece of fabric, I should not have held it so thoughtlessly.” She moved to kiss his lips. Bruce was sitting there in complete shock and confusion. As she kissed his lips she looked back into his eyes. He was being kissed by the ghost of a corpse. 

“They are invited down from their room every Christmas, they just do not-” The woman pushed off of Bruce as he spoke. “DO NOT POINT BLAME FOR OUR INJUSTICE!” The woman grabbed at her face as her nails dug into her skin. Taking some off with her frantic flails. “DOWN FROM WHERE?! THEY HAVE LEFT! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW THE ONE THING TYING US HAS LEFT THE SAFETY OF YOUR HOME! Or what should be their safety. You shall be their downfall with your inactions.” She glared as tears fell. The room was freezing and the glass of the candle started to freeze over. The woman stared at Bruce as she suddenly seemed to break again with a wail. “You, you shall be punished Bruce. Three. Three but not me. You have three ghosts to see. Each of the cold and dark of night. To when the clock strikes twelve shall you see. Tonight and the next of it and of that one. I hope you suffer while alive and learn. For if you do not and you still live like this, you shall die like me.” And with that, the lights flickered and her glow disappeared, leaving him all alone with his thoughts and beating heart. 

He lets out a sneeze at the sudden feeling of his nose running. But as he looked for a tissue, the papers that were on the floor originally were back in their spots on his desk. The candle and fireplace back to their warm fire. The desk lamp was no longer out. The clock went back to its original time of 10:13, it was still the night of the twenty-first. The books were back on the shelves. But the painting, as it was back to its original sight, seemed so bare and empty. “When did they get that big?” Bruce whispered under his breath. You used to be at his knee. Yet the ghost, of what seemed to be your mother, drew you as a young adult. A knock on the door signified that Alfred was here for what was probably the first round of medications. Alfred had been close to you, right? Maybe he could answer these new found questions that had just surfaced from Bruce's mind and guilt.

[beggars-opera]

Hey, so we don't talk enough about A Christmas Carol as being at least a little bit about not continuing a cycle of abuse and neglect, both against others and yourself.

In the book little Scrooge is left languishing over the holidays in a boarding school for some never-explained reason, but it is made very clear that this is miserable and unfair, and that his father is doing this on purpose. His sister specifically comes to tell him that "father is so much kinder now than he used to be, that home's like heaven." This also reflects a bit of Dickens's own childhood when his father went into debtor's prison and little Charlie was forced to support his family working full time in a shoe-blacking factory at the age of 12 (which is also why so many of his books seem to have a moral of "hey, kids are people too and maybe we shouldn't make them work in the mines.")

Whatever family reunion happened after didn't work out, because Scrooge continues believing that no one is coming to save him and pulling himself up by his bootstraps at the detriment of all other social relationships is the only way forward. And the more he lives by that philosophy, the more miserable he gets, because obviously he pushes away anyone who has that hope that he lost. They threaten to break down the walls he's built and teach him that a big pile of money doesn't have to be the only thing that he can rely on, if he'd just let himself be vulnerable and have a relationship with people who care about him, because they're out there even if he's ignoring them.

There is a certain type of person still very much out there who thinks this way. "I've never been happy in my life, so no one else has a right to be either. I was abused in my childhood so it's only fair that everyone else suffer as well." We see this in parents who still try to use corporal punishment, and in wealthy people who ignore the social factors keeping others down and scream that everyone else is just entitled, that only those who suffer and scrape deserve happiness. And they especially hate the people like Fred who represent the past that could have been, who have maintained hope for the future, and seem to be rubbing their optimism in your face, when in reality they're just maintaining hope because it's the only way you can survive.

It's so important for Scrooge to actually see the impact this thinking has on both himself and multiple generations. Rich people have this weird hangup about this story because they think Scrooge is bad because he's rich. He's not, he's bad because he's a horrible person and a miser - he doesn't use his money to better anything, including himself. Salting the earth, everyone suffers here, including him. And he learns that he's going to die old and alone without ever having spent or enjoyed his money, and that his family feels sorry for him, and that the nameless masses of poor people out there that he decries so much are in fact living, breathing people, including tiny disabled kids who don't deserve to suffer just because you decided life isn't fair.

In the end he takes responsibility for actually uplifting the people in the next generation who are trying to make the world a better place and no longer punching down, because it doesn't have to be this way. So many people out there just give up hope because things are hard and they think trying to improve things is a pointless exercise that makes them look dumb. How dare you grow a year older and not an hour richer! How dare you marry for love! That's the only thing more ridiculous than a Merry Christmas! When in reality, there are plenty of people who would love to see them happy if they just had a chance.

It's really sad that, while the language used to describe it has changed, these problems still persist. That people feel so wronged and isolated that they spend their days ensuring everyone else will be as well. That they fail to see their fellow humans as fellow humans who are just as deserving of love and kindness and a roof over their heads. I don't care what time of year it is, we should all be lifting each other up rather than tearing each other down.

[allyheart707]

1 Year Comic Collab - PART 1

Part two ->

Credits from top to bottom: @friskebits, @shellrazor, @katzstar5, @dluebirb , @donatellokinnersinner, @appleyesssss , @nights-flying-fox , @orangepawn39 , @intotheelliwoods , @theartofeverything , @theredponcho , @drowning-soda , @peoplepersonoaktree , @banana-pancake5 , @jadetheblueartist , @glitter-alienz , @burritello3000 , @exhaustedwriterartist , @troubleshade , and finally @purple-the-turtle

[ID: Panel 1- Carol, Mikey and Donnie relaxing and sitting on Donnies bed, Carol reading an unlabeled book with Mikey and Donnie on either side of her, laying on her. Image watermarked by Friskyeee.

Panel 2- Carol closes the book with her eyes closed and says “...The end.” The image is watermarked by shellrazor.

Panel 3- Carol sets the book down on the bed next to her and says "Alright, boys-" Watermarked by Katzstars.

Panel 4- Mikey interrupts her, clutching the blanket in his hands and looking upset. He says "Wait! No! But- But-" Watermarked by dluebirb.

Panel 5- Carol takes a grey blanket and pulls it up to her hips, smiling. She says "It's time for bed." Image is marked in the bottom corner by Donatellokinnersinner.

Panel 6- Donnie lies in his bed while Carol covers him with a blanket. He looks at her with pleading eyes, not wanting her to leave. The image is marked by appleyesssss.

Panel 7- Carol turns to leave, and the boys sadly watch her from the bed.

Panel 8- GIF. Mikey tugs on Carol's labcoat. He says "Wait, don't go!" in a black dialogue bar above his head.

Panel 9- GIF of Donnie sitting on the edge of his bed kicking his feet back and forth. With a serious look on his face he is saying "Just one more story! Then we will go to bed, promise!" Image is watermarked by intotheelliwoods.

Panel 10- Animated gif. Mikey and Donnie glance to each other with a neutral expression, then smile and nod as they look back towards the viewer. Watermarked with x/1. in the bottom right.

Panel 11- Carol stands with her back to the door of the room, holding a book under her left arm, a nervous expression on her face. Carol is glancing off to the left, saying "I shouldn't..." Watermarked by theredponcho in the bottom right.

Panel 12- Mikey and Donnie sit on the bed, each with round, watery puppy eyes. Mikey has his hands clasped, begging. Donnie has a pillow pulled up to his chin. Watermarked by Soda in the bottom right.

Panel 13- Animated gif. Carol holds her empty hand and the book out in protest, eyebrows raised, saying "...I don't even have another book-" She deflates, slightly lowering her hands and looking to the right as her eyebrows lower. Watermarked by Peoplepersonoaktree in the bottom left.

Panel 14- Mikey and Donnie looking up, begging with large puppy dog eyes. Mikey has tears in his eyes and Donnie is clutching a blanket. Water marked with M3b in the top left.

Panel 15- Carol stands, looking deflated with one hand on her hip as she says, “Alright. Fine… I’ll just have to come up with something.

Panel 16- Mikey sitting on the bed clapping his hands, wagging his tail, and looking overjoyed. Carol sitting next to him looks tired and sighs. Donnie sitting with his legs curled under him, his hands stiming, and his tail wagging. Water marked with GLITTER ALIENZ on the top right.

Panel 17- Carol sits on Donnie's bed, looking contemplative. Mikey leans against her on the left, holding George, his pink stuffed rabbit, while Donnie sits cross-legged on the right. Coral is saying "Hmmm..." Watermarked Burritello3000 with a little paw print.

Panel 18- Carol sitting on the bunk bed, looking excited with one hand waving around and the other placed on her chest says, "Oh! I could tell you about this story my daughter has been obsessed with lately!" Image is marked at the bottom left with ExhaustedWriterArtist's signature EWA/MAC.

Panel 19- Mikey and Donnie sitting on the bed, looking both at Carol excitedly. Mikey exclaims: “Oh mi gosh! Tell us! Tell us!” The image is marked on the bottom right by TroubleShade.

Panel 20- Carol sitting on the bunk beds. Laughing looking happy saying, "Alright, alright." Water marked with Purple-the-turtle on the bottom left.

Panel 21- Carol sitting in the middle of a bunk bed, Mikey cuddled up close arms and legs wrapped around Carol. Donnie sitting to the side getting head pats from Carol. She is saying, "once upon a time...". Both boys' tails are wagging.

Panel 22- Huginn hovering in the air saying, "there was a great warrior." Leo tucked in looking so excited he's sparkling. Muninn floats nearby also looking exited.

Panel 23- Heishi lying in his bed. He is so excited that his eyes are shining stars and his mouth is agape. Hugin off screen says "He could beat anyone or anything with just his hands!!"

Panel 24- A digital drawing of Huginn with his arms and wings spread, though part of his body isn't in the frame. He has a happy expression on his face and his mouth is widely opened. His text bubble says "And every time he won, he would give the crowd a big smile and shout-". The drawing is watermarked by flour-consumer.

Panel 25- Hugin and Munin fly behind Heishi, the three are throwing their fists to the air cheering "Hot Soup!" image watermarked by dianagj-art.

Panel 26- Transitions to Raph bedroom which is decorated with glow in the dark stars and movie posters. On a red bed sits Raph who is excitedly listening to his father tell him the story off screen "But more importantly, he was very good looking."

Panel 27- Raph, sitting on his bed, looks disappointed. Splinter is off screen but a speach bubble with his face in it shows that he is laughing at his sons reaction.

Panel 28- Splinter’s ears drop and his face falls into a frown, sitting on the rug beside Raphael’s bed. Raphael, laying on the bed, looks confused and concerned. The room is colorful, with childish toys and posters, and the blanket and rug are red, his color. It is watermarked with “irequirealobotomy” in purple text.

Panel 29- Splinter looking away with a sad expression saying "Then one day... they dissapearred without a trace". The background is a gradient from orange to purple.

Panel 30- Mikey, Carol and Donnie sit on Donnie’s bed. Mikey holds his stuffed bunny George and Carol’s arm as his tail wags. Donnie throws his arms in the air. “What? But… where did he go?! You can’t just disappear…” He squints in deep thought his hand now at his face. “Can you? Maybe…” He points his finger as his eyes light up with ideas. “Maybe he is being hidden, like us! Or-” Watermarked risebabyx2 in the bottom corner.

Panel 31- Mikey and Donnie, sitting on Donnie’s bed. Donnie with a worried expression, mumbling until interrupted by Mikey who excitedly asks; “Do you think we will ever meet him!?” The image is watermarked by clown-froggi.

Panel 32- Carol looking away from Mikey and Donnie somberly, fiddling with her hands. Image is marked on the top left with RiseLeon.

Panel 33- Mikey sitting hugging his legs on the bed. His pink rabbit, George, hugged close. Carol sitting next to him, putting his head, saying "one day, I hope you can do anything you put your mind to." Donnie sitting on her other side looking slightly sullen. Water marked with purpleviolet at the top middle.

Panel 34- Carol tucking in Donnie while Mikey sits beside her. All are smiling. Image is watermarked by Karonkar.

Panel 35- Carol tucking in Mikey on the top bunk bed. Mikey is smiling as he snuggles his stuffed bunny. Carol smiles and pulls the cover over him. Image is watermarked by brightonstudios.

Panel 36- Carol stands in the doorway, facing the dark hall outside. Her hand rests against the edge of the frame. She is looking back over her shoulder, smiling fondly. She is saying "Goodnight, boys." Image is marked at the bottom right by CupKatWarrior9

Panel 37- Mikey sleeps on his stomach, George next to his hand. His blanket mostly covers his legs and the bottom of his shell, with one foot sticking out. Watermarked Bambiraptorx.

Panel 38- Donnie sleeping peacefully in his bed, mouth slightly open.

Panel 39- Heishi asleep in his bed, blankets tightly wrapped around him with a smile on his face. Signed MD in the bottom right.

Panel 20- Carol sitting on the bunk beds. Laughing looking happy saying, "Alright, alright." Water marked with Purple-the-turtle on the bottom left. End ID.]

[yourstrulysylus]

A Nonsense Christmas (a Sylus point of view)

Sylus had never cared much for the holidays—just another day in a chaotic life of deals and missions. But now, with her around, even the simplest traditions held meaning. She had a way of making even nonsense feel extraordinary.

The serene moment was interrupted when his vinyl record abruptly stopped, leaving the room in silence. Sylus frowned, about to investigate, when she strolled into the living room. Wearing nothing but a Santa hat, a short red fur-lined cape, and heels, she instantly turned his irritation into a sly smirk. He leaned back, intrigued, wondering what she would do next.

Before he could utter a word, Luke and Kieran followed her lead, stepping into the room. Both were dressed to match the theme—maroon suits, Santa hats, elf ears—and, of course, still donning their signature masks. The unlikely sight brought a chuckle from Sylus as he set his book aside, prepared for whatever antics were about to unfold.

“She paid us extra, boss,” Luke murmured, his tone low but amused.

“Just sit back and relax. We’ve got no idea what she’s planning—we’re just here for one job,” Kieran added with a shrug.

But Sylus wasn’t paying attention to either of the twins. His eyes were fixed solely on her as she stood front and center in his living room. Then, suddenly, she broke the silence.

“Hit it.”

Luke pressed play on the stereo, and Kieran hoisted the speakers into the air like a stagehand at a makeshift concert.

With a dramatic flourish, she shrugged off her red cape, revealing a sultry red off-shoulder dress, black tights, and a microphone in hand. Sylus’s eyes widened, his jaw tightening slightly—this outfit was something he thought should be reserved for his eyes only.

“Think I only want you under my mistletoe,” she began, her voice smooth and teasing as she locked eyes with him.

“I might change your contact to ‘Has a Huge North Pole,’

You said you like my stockings better on the floor.

Boy, I’ve been a bad girl, I guess I’m gettin’ coal.”

She swayed her hips, a slow and deliberate motion that seemed to make the room shrink to just the two of them. For a brief moment, the world felt like it moved in slow motion. That sway, that smirk—it was all for him.

“Let me come warm you up, you’ve been out in the snow.

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like ‘ho-ho-ho.’

I don’t want Santa’s elves underneath this ol’ tree—”

She pointed at the twins, who, much to Sylus’s amusement, had begun snapping their fingers and stiffly moving their hips in time with the beat.

“Here’s a little carol I wrote, it’s about you and me,” she continued, her tone softening slightly as she gestured between herself and Sylus, her gaze growing more serious.

Then she began to walk toward him, her voice never faltering as she sang,

“You’re my wish list, looking at you got me thinking Christmas.”

Her eyes were magnetic, the kind of siren’s gaze that could make anyone weak in the knees. Sylus gripped the armrests of his seat, fighting to maintain his composure as she drew closer, her every movement designed to test his restraint.

She tossed her hair back as she sang, “You’ll be Santa Claus, and I’ll be Mrs.,

I’ll take you for a ride, I’ll be your vixen.” Her finger twirled the diamond engagement ring he’d given her two years ago, catching the light with every move. That ring had been an impulsive decision—like most things with her. He still remembered the way she’d laughed when he pulled it out of his pocket, halfway through a mission, saying, “Now or never.” She’d chosen ‘now,’ and he’d never looked back.

Sylus couldn’t decide if he was more captivated by her flawless performance—singing and dancing without a single misstep—or the way his pulse quickened at the sight of that ring, a reminder of their bond. Either way, he was left torn between awe and desire.

“I’ll give her due credit after the performance,” he thought, unaware of the faint smirk tugging at his lips as he watched the scene unfold. He wrestled with the urge to maintain his stoic demeanor or openly praise her in front of his men.

Sylus felt the room close in on him, the weight of his responsibilities, of his position, pressing down. She’s doing this to you on purpose, he thought, trying to remind himself that this was all just a game. A performance. A distraction. His wife knew exactly how to push his buttons. But this wasn’t just any holiday routine. This was her. In a red dress. Singing. The tension between wanting to lose himself in the moment and keeping his cool was almost unbearable.

Don’t fall for it, he told himself. But it was hard not to when she sang, when her eyes locked with his, her lips curling into that smile—one he knew all too well. The smile that meant she had him exactly where she wanted him.

But this wasn’t just about attraction. This was about control. You’re in charge, he reminded himself. But the ache in his chest, the pull in his gut, suggested otherwise. She was in charge now. And he was helpless to resist.

It was like a dream wrapped in red velvet and mistletoe.

Sylus leaned back in his chair, his arms folded, trying to keep a cool facade as she approached, each of her movements intentional, playful, and impossible to ignore. The twin’s stiff, yet enthusiastic dancing was a far cry from the sensuality she brought, and it made Sylus chuckle despite himself.

When she reached him, she stopped for a moment, looking at him with those familiar mischievous eyes—eyes that had stolen his heart the moment they met. She didn’t need to say anything more; the way she held that microphone, the way she had spun those lyrics into something personal—it was clear. She was making her own rules, in her own way, on her own terms.

“And here I thought you just wanted to relax this holiday,” she teased, her voice playful as she stopped in front of him, still singing the last few lines with that sultry smile.

Sylus couldn’t help it. He chuckled, finally breaking the tension. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he said, leaning forward slightly.

“You should know that by now,” she replied, her tone low, teasing. She let the music continue, moving in a slow circle around him.

Luke and Kieran, still swaying and snapping their fingers behind her, both exchanged a glance, clearly trying to gauge if they were about to witness something beyond their usual chaotic holiday antics.

She gave Sylus one last look, swaying her hips just a little more dramatically before ending the song with a dramatic spin and a playful wink.

The room fell silent for a moment as the last note of the song faded out.

“Well,” Sylus said, his voice smooth, “I guess that’s one way to celebrate Christmas.” He slowly stood up, his smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

She raised an eyebrow, the mischief still lingering in her expression. “I had to make it memorable.”

Sylus chuckled again, crossing the short distance between them. “Mission accomplished,” he murmured, pulling her into a kiss, one that promised plenty of ‘nonsense’ of its own for the rest of the evening.

Luke and Kieran exchanged another look, their usual banter lost in the background of the moment. “Alright, boss, we’ll just… uh, see ourselves out,” Luke said, pulling Kieran by the arm as the two quickly shuffled away.

They didn’t need to know what would happen next—they were just happy to have gotten paid extra for the show.

As the last note of her song lingered in the air, she leaned in close, her voice soft but teasing. “So, boss… did I earn my Christmas bonus?”

Sylus smirked, pulling her gently down onto his lap, his hands settling on her waist. “You’ve been on my ‘nice’ list all year,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “But right now, I think I prefer you on the ‘naughty’ one.”

She laughed softly, the sound melting into a contented sigh as his lips brushed against hers, slow and deliberate. The world outside the window blurred into a wash of snowflakes and distant lights, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

The fire crackled softly in the background as the warmth between them grew. Her hands slid over his shoulders, pulling him closer, her Santa hat slipping off in the process. Sylus caught it with one hand, tossing it onto the floor with a quiet chuckle.

The twins’ muffled laughter could be heard retreating down the hall, their voices fading as they wisely made their exit. The room grew quieter, save for the occasional pop of the fire and the soft sounds of her breath mingling with his.

By the time the snowstorm outside picked up, the two of them had sunk into the couch, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten.

[leanxooo]

L O S T P U P P Y — rick grimes x black!fem reader x daryl dixon

“is it so bad i just wanna be around you two?”

✷ : One day a unknown named girl shows up to the atlanta camp, when she gets settled; she takes a liking to daryl and rick, following them around like a lost puppy and they dont know why.

✷ : chapter one: lost puppy interlude [ see other chapters ]

cw: mentions of daddy issues, walkers, pet names ( pretty, darling, sweet girl, princess ) , rude!daryl at first, a little sexual content ( dry humping, dirty talk, kissing ), age gap ( reader is 19 - 20 and Rick and Daryl are 30 - 40 ).

xoxo note: in this apocalypse the haves phones and anything modern, don't like it? keep it pushing honey, also ntm on me! I haven't written in a while.

Silence. That was the only thing heard around the camp as the group watched the young girl walk up in a baby pink skims set with pink Asics and a black book bag with a purse on her side.

"Who the fuck-" Daryl started to say out of his mouth as the girl walked up breathing heavy, "holy shit bro" she said as everyone looked at her.

She looked behind her, wondering what everyone was looking at "what we looking at?" she asked confused "who are you" Rick asked as he put his hand on his gun.

"oop- lets chill... okay?" she said giggling nervously, "my name is y/n and I was just walking and I saw the camp." she shifted from side to side as everyone just stared at her.

"Well welcome to our camp, your more than welcome to stay pretty girl," Carol walked up and smiled at her "I'm Carol."

The young girl smiled at the older lady, "thank you Carol!"

Rick and Daryl silently watched the scene unfold, Daryl was looking the girl up almost drooling at the sight of her, her pretty brown legs, her slicked back ponytail, the way the skims fit her body.

"Daryl wipe ya mouth for me real quick!" t-dog and Glenn laughed together as Daryl muttered profanities under his breath and walked off.

The conversation between Carol and the girl continued, not even paying attention to the boys. "Well as of right now.. we don't have any tents and there's like three to a tent and there is only one tent that only has two people.." Carol rambled.

Y/n nodded her head and followed Carol to the tent, "you're going to have to share this with Rick and Daryl.. at least for right now till we go on another run" Carol said and motioned for y/n to follow her to a table where two boys were sitting.

"Y/n, this is Rick and Daryl your temporary roommates! their very sweet and respectful guys," carol spoke but y/n wasn't listening she was just staring at the two man before her.

She was already having unholy thoughts about Rick's beard tickling her legs as he-

Y/n's thoughts were interrupted by Carol when she whispered in y/n's ear, "you don't wanna get on Daryl's bad side so I suggest you stay out of his way and rick is going through something with his wife so don't be surprised if he's cold towards you." Y/n nodded her head and waved at the two.

"Its nice to meet you guys, Im y/n, I promise not to be your way" she smiled at the two, only Rick returned the smile.

Carol walked y/n back to the tent she would be staying in and left her alone, they ended up putting a cot in the tent next to two other cots.

Y/n sat up her side of the tent with pink and sparkly things, the blanket on her cot was pink and so was her pillow. She re-organized her bookbag and sat it in the corner.

She pulled out her phone and portable charger turning her phone on to watch TikTok, it was currently 10:40 and Carol called everyone out to eat.

Y/n walked out the tent with her same skims on but changed her Asics to her pink Kurt slides, she walked up to everyone sitting in a circle and sat next to a young boy.

"Hi I'm carl" the boy put his hand out to the girl, y/n reached her hand out and shook it. "I like your nails!" Carl smiled and held her hand for a bit as her admired her pink duck nails.

"Thank you! I do them myself" she smiled "foreal?" he asked, letting her hand go in the process.

She nodded her head and looked at everyone that was staring at her, "so y/n.." Andrea started "what's your story?"

Y/n looked around, "well I'm from Las Vegas.. I came to Atlanta to visit when the apocalypse started," Rick looked her up and down "how did you survive alone out there?" he asked.

"My dad is a cop, he taught me a few survival things" she giggled "he also had alot of guns." she stopped real quick, got up and ran to her tent.

Everyone was confused but she came back with her bookbag, she pulled out a pink hand gun.

"Why the fuck is it pink?' Daryl spoke "well first off.. I like pink and secondly I hate the color black so.."

"Your so interesting.." Andrea said "yea I get that alot" y/n said admiring the gun.

"How old are you y/n" t-dog asked as he ate the stew Carol made, "I'm 21, my birthday just passed." She smiled at him and he nodded his head.

AFTER AWHILE OF SITTING BY THE FIRE AND GETTING TO KNOW Y/N EVERYONE HEADED TO BED, dale let y/n use the bathroom in the RV to get ready for bed.

Y/n walked out the RV in hellokitty pants and a white cropped tee, she walked to where carols tent was and saw Carol was with her husband and daughter.

"Good night Carol, thank you for everything" y/n smiled and Carol smiled back but her smile quickly dropped after her husband gave her a stern look.

Y/n looked at him with a stank look, "the fuck be wrong" y/n thought. Before y/n left the tent she blew a small kiss at Carol and her daughter.

While y/n was walking to her tent she saw Rick's wife, who she learned was Lori and Rick's friend, shane sneaking into the woods.

"This is a weird ass place," she thought as she shook her head. Y/n walked to her tent saying her good nights to everyone.

She got into the tent and saw Daryl and Rick staring straight at her, "well shit, I got something on my face?" she giggled, Rick slowly shook his head.

"Oh-" she was going to say something but was interrupted, "what the fuck is your deal?" Daryl asked rudely but y/n only laughed.

"Fuck is you talking about?" she asked in the same tone. "You popped up outta' nowhere with ya' lil expensive clothes and ya bags."

Y/n rolled her eyes, Rick only watched the interaction from his cot, "you sure nobody sent you?" Daryl asked "nigga- who the fuck would have sent me?" y/n pulled her phone out of one of her purses and set it up, taking a scarf out of her black bag.

She pulled up her camera and tied the scarf around her fresh edges, "I mean I don't know-" Daryl stated sarcastically as he moved his hands in the air.

Y/n just laughed at him and turned her phone off to charge, "no one sent me dummy."

She layed in her cot and got under her cover, "goodnight boys." She smiled and rolled over.

"Oh and Daryl next time you wanna drool over me-" she turned around "dont do it when I'm around love."

[dc-marvel-life]

These Are My Ladies (Natasha Files) - The Moment

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Summary: The first time you realize that the Black Widow is your soulmate

Word Count: ~1.5K

A/N: Now I made These Are My Ladies awhile ago not thinking many people wanted more, but there was some interested. I am going to writing this series. If you have any ideas, let me know or if you have another

These Are My Ladies Natasha Files Wanda Files Carol Files Kate Files Yelena Files

Deadman’s P.O.V

After enduring a whirlwind of missions over the past month, finally, I found myself on a well-deserved break, returning to my New York apartment with hopes of relaxation. However, upon arrival, relaxation was the last thing I felt. Neglect had turned my once orderly space into chaos, with clothes strewn about and dishes piled high.

Though cleaning wasn't a chore I minded, I discovered I had exhausted my cleaning supplies. With a resigned sigh, I added a mental note to my list: a trip to the store was imminent. Before venturing out, a pang of hunger reminded me of my empty fridge.

"Great," I muttered, closing the fridge door empty-handed. Grabbing my keys, I headed out, deciding to make a day of it and treat myself to a visit to my favorite café. Nestled in a quiet corner, it was my sanctuary, known only to a few, offering not just excellent food but also solitude.

As I entered the café and placed my order, my mind drifted to the soothing distraction of a Sudoku puzzle. But my moment of peace was disrupted by a familiar figure outside—the Black Widow.

"Shit," I whispered to myself, snapping my book shut. Whether she had spotted me or not was unclear, but I wasn't about to stick around to find out. The Avengers had never caught me, and I had no intention of allowing today to be the first.

Grabbing my food, I hastily exited the café, disappointed that my plans for relaxation had been thwarted once again. Determined to salvage what remained of my day, I made my way to a nearby park, seeking solace amidst the tranquility of nature.

Finding an empty bench, I settled down, exhaling a sigh of relief. With my food in hand and Sudoku book reopened, I lost myself in the challenge of the puzzles. Time slipped away, and before I knew it, I had devoured my meal and completed several Sudoku grids.

Glancing around the park, I spotted Black Widow in the distance, a coffee cup in hand. "Damn," I muttered, slipping away unnoticed, scanning for any other Avengers lurking nearby. Surprisingly, the coast seemed clear, prompting a sense of unease.

Nevertheless, I pressed on, knowing I had one final task ahead—the grocery store. After gathering my necessities and disposing of my trash, I made my way to the nearest store, pushing a cart as I ticked off items on my mental checklist.

Midway through my shopping, a strange sensation washed over me. Glancing around, my eyes met Black Widow's. 

As we look eyes at each other, time seems to stand still, and the whole world around us fades away into a blur of insignificance. At this moment, it was as if the universe conspired this day to happen to bring us together, our souls are bound together to make an unbreakable bond. 

At a single glance, there was a flow of an electric current surge between us, igniting a fire that burns deep within my heart and I know that she feels it too. This sensation is unlike any other feeling I ever felt. Just a second ago, she was one of my biggest enemies and now there is an unwavering certainty that she is my other half. There is a sense of belonging and understanding with us and we haven’t even said a word to each other yet. 

Many people told me about how it felt to meet your soulmate, but this feeling is nothing how they describe it. It is even better. At this moment, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I just found my soulmate. 

After what felt like an eternity, the world comes back into focus and we are back in the grocery store. 

“Who put out a hit on me?” Black Widow says and drops her basket. Why would that be the first thing she says? Didn’t she feel the connection too?

“Don’t give me that look,” I guess I was making a funny face so I tried to go back to normal, “I have noticed you since this morning in the cafe. I have been trying to get away from you all day, but you are damn too good at your job” Natasha says and makes a face. 

I smirked at her complimenting me on how good I was at my job even though I wasn’t working. 

“I know that you know what is happening here” I say getting closer to her and she takes a few steps back, so I stop. 

"No, this can't be happening! You can't be my soulmate! I don't deserve a soulmate," she murmured, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her voice.

Her words struck me like a blow to the chest, the weight of her rejection crushing my spirit. Yet, even as my soul ached with the pain of her denial, I couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy. After all, hadn't I too grappled with feelings of unworthiness?

Summoning what remained of my resolve, I sought to reassure her. "I promise you, there's no hit out on you. If there were, you'd already be dead. They call me Deadman for a reason," I quipped, attempting to lighten the mood.

"You wish," she countered with a wry chuckle, the tension between us palpable as we stood in silence, each grappling with our own doubts and insecurities.

"Let me prove you wrong. Let me show you that I am the right soulmate for you, and that you do indeed deserve one," I implored, extending an invitation that hung precariously in the air.

After what felt like an eternity, she relented, her acceptance met with an internal cheer. "Perfect. I'll cook for you. What do you want for dinner?" I inquired eagerly, already envisioning the possibilities.

"I don't know; surprise me," she replied, and with the exchange of numbers, our tentative truce was sealed.

—

With only a few hours until Black Widow's arrival, I threw myself into a frenzy of preparation. Cleaning, cooking, and setting the table consumed my attention, each task executed with meticulous care.

Yet, amid the chaos, I sought to impart a touch of sentimentality, crafting a bouquet of paper roses as a token of my affection. It was a small gesture, perhaps, but one imbued with meaning—a symbol of my earnest desire to forge a connection with her.

As the appointed hour drew near, a knock at the door heralded her arrival. I took a moment to compose myself before opening the door, my breath catching at the sight of her.

"Come in, come in. I'm glad you came," I greeted her warmly, taking her jacket and ushering her into my humble abode.

"Wow, nice place. And it smells amazing in here. What did you make?" she remarked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"I made homemade chicken pasta with red sauce, Caesar salad, and cheesy garlic bread," I replied, hoping to impress her with my culinary skills.

"That sounds delicious," she murmured, a hint of appreciation evident in her tone.

Seating her at the table, I poured us each a glass of wine, savoring the moment as we embarked on this unexpected journey together. With each bite, I watched her closely, silently gauging her reaction to my cooking.

As we sat in silence, the clinking of cutlery against plates the only sound in the room, I couldn't help but observe her every move. With bated breath, I awaited her reaction to the meal I had prepared with such care. And when I saw the subtle flicker of pleasure that crossed her features, I couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at my lips.

Halfway through the meal, our pace slowed, and our gazes locked in a moment of shared understanding. It was then that I felt compelled to break the silence, to address the elephant in the room—the improbable twist of fate that had brought us together as soulmates despite our tumultuous history as adversaries.

"Look, I know this is weird for both of us. After all, we've been enemies for so long," I began, my voice tentative yet determined. "But I want to make this work. I've always dreamed of finding my soulmate, and now that I've found you, I don't want to let this opportunity slip away."

I reached out to take her hand, a gesture of reassurance, only to have it swiftly withdrawn. The sting of rejection pierced my heart, a painful echo of the hurt I had felt earlier in the store.

Undeterred, I rose from my seat, retrieving the bouquet of paper roses I had crafted with such care. "I made these for you," I explained, offering her the delicate blooms. "I know they're not real, but they'll never wither or fade. They'll be a constant reminder of the connection we share, a symbol of the enduring love I have for you."

Taking a moment to steady my nerves, I continued, "I understand that this won't be easy, given our pasts. But I'm willing to put in the work, to prove that we're meant to be together."

As she accepted the flowers, a flicker of emotion crossed her features, and for the first time since our encounter began, I dared to hope that perhaps, against all odds, our love might blossom into something beautiful and enduring.

This is the moment where our relationship starts.

[hiro--aoki]

TWD Incorrect Quotes from my classmates

Tw: contains swear words, mention of sex, use of slut and maybe some other offense things, idk

Michonne: Because your minds are still developing you want to….

Y/N: Do drugs!

Michonne: Take more risks…

Y/N: Nah…

Michonne: A risk is any unsafe action or stupid, thoughtless and careless behaviour.

Carl to Y/N: Literally me.

*Coughs that sound like an erupting volcano*

Abraham: My tummy hurts.

Michonne: Can you name three risks?

Merle: Sex with no protection!

Carl: A gun with no safety on!

Y/N: Having a forehead as big as Merle’s!

Deanna: So, we have codes A, C and D.

Rick: Why not code B? Where’s the B????

Aaron: B-cause.

Glenn: You should b- ashamed of yourself…. I’m not funny

Maggie: You’re not funny

Deanna: So, code A stands for….?

Daryl: Ass!

Eugene: Acceptable!

Aaron: Yeah *fistbump*

Y/N: Nerd!

Deanna: What about code C?

Maggie: Coffee.

Eugene: Calculated!

Deanna: Yes! How about code D?

Abraham: Deez nuts!

Sasha: Dangerous!

Carol: Destructive!

Deanna: Yeah! You guys concern me!

Y/N: Ron, shut up you acoustic monk.

Glenn: Guys I accidentally wrote relationhips instead of relationships.

Carl: Y/N, has relationhips.

Y/N: What’s that supposed to mean?!?!

Y/N: Carl, has a shirt that says ‘ Roblox is life’ shirt, and he said it suits me.

Negan: Feel how soft my water bottle is.

Simon: Stop stroking your water bottle like that!

Michonne: What’s something that was legal, but was a destructive decision?

Merle: Weed!

Enid: I wanna jump off a cliff.

Y/N: I wanna kiss a 12 gauge.

Enid: My dad jumped out of a plane without a parachute…

Carl: My dad is a plane.

Andrea: My butt hurts.

Dale: *Gives strange look*

Andrea: You’re looking at me like you wanna fuck me.

Dale: What?

Shane: Ha!

Dale: No, I actually didn’t hear.

Amy: Real.

Negan: Did you wash your ass today?

Michonne: So, tell me an example of a safety risk?

Merle: Your mom

Michonne: …and some conatin cannabis

Judith: These gummies tastes funny.

*Watching a budget direct ad and Captain Risky comes on*

Jesus: Smash

Ron: Bro’s him

Daryl: I mean he has all the skills

Carl: Bluds the main character

Y/N: You look like a potato

Dwight: You look like a trash can

Y/N: Nuh uh

Dwight: Yeah uh

Negan: Dwight, keep working *Lightly caresses the shovel Dwight’s hand*

Y/N: Stop!

Dwight: Stop it I don’t like it!

Y/N: Yes, we are Sluts

Rosita: Sexy Ladies Under Tonnes of Stress

Y/N: I can’t make a decision that big, I can’t even tie my own shoes!

Enid: Please tell me you’re joking.

Y/N: I’m not, I tie them like a three-year old! Let me show you!

Enid: No, no thanks…

Y/N: Watch my feet! Watch my shoes. *Ties laces with two loops*

Enid: Ew *visibly cringes*

Carl: …I just asked if you wanted pancakes or waffles….

Glenn: Look how much funny shit we said today.

Daryl: I can’t it’s too black

Glenn: Ayo?

Daryl: I meant too dark!

Y/N: Nah!

*Glenn adjusts lighting*

Daryl: Now it’s too white!

Y/N: !!!

Daryl: Too bright! Too bright!

Negan: BALLS

Y/N: Gotta rizz ‘em with the ‘tism

Negan: I’m a Savior….save ya mom!

*Carl and Ron carrying a log*

Enid: For a second I thought that was in their ass’s

Y/N: I want them up my ass

Enid: What?

Y/N: What?

*Truck passes*

Daryl: Awww yeah, listen to tha’

Y/N: I can smell the air…

Daryl: No shit, sherlock!

Glenn: Don’t judge a book by it’s-

Eugene: Erm actually, it’s in the human instincts system, for us to make a quick judgement on a person appearance to determine whether they are friend or foe.

Y/N: Oooh, did I appear friend or foe when you first saw me?

Eugene: Well, when I first encountered you, you looked like you couldn’t hurt a fly, but since then, I have realised my mistake and have grown scared of you.

Rosita: He’s scared of everything…

Eugene: Not pickles!

Beth: What song do you wear?

[dramioneasks]

Christmas Fics (2024) (Part 6):

Wrapping Chaos by Mirabella29 - E, WIP - Draco Malfoy is a fucking arse. A magical delivery error causes all the gifts ordered by Draco and Hermione to be sent in the wrong place. To her great misfortune, her erotic potion books and sex toys land in Malfoy’s hands, who takes great pleasure in mocking her. Bloody Hell, if she could bury herself alive right now, she would.

All I Want For Christmas is (To Defeat) You by Anonymous - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger built a surprising bond with one of her professors when she returned to Hogwarts for her eighth year. But when she wants to surprise that professor with the perfect Christmas present, a certain someone gets in her way.

We'll Take a Cup of Kindness Yet by Anonymous - M, one-shot - To avoid suspension after an incident involving a student, Draco Malfoy is forced to spends his holidays at Hogwarts, babysitting the students who are holding over. The only thing that could make this worse is Hermione Granger.

Pansy's Matchmaking Services: A Christmas Miracle by Slytherinked - E, WIP - Pansy has spent the year collecting wants and wishes. Now, it's time for her to produce a Christmas miracle. Maybe then all her friends will stop whining. - “Draco Lucius Malfoy,” she hissed, and his blood ran cold, “get your shit together and stop acting like a petulant three year old. Do as you are told!”

Chaotic christmas by lemidox - M, 17 chapters - Hermione is in a slump, it’s Christmas. She’s single, having atrocious luck and just wants to get in the spirit of things. (Un)luckily she has Theo and Ginny, ready to drag her kicking and screaming into the holiday cheer. Santa fighting dragons, a snowball fight, dreadful gingerbread houses, copious amounts of fire whiskey, slytherin’s plottting and secrets that come to light in this chaotic Christmas special. And let us not forget, hilarity and fluff that leads to smut... eventually 😈

No Space of Regret by New_Ponyo - M, one-shot - Draco Malfoy is engaged to marry Astoria Greengrass on New Year's Eve in less than two weeks. As the wedding night approaches, Draco finds himself more of a wreck than he thought possible. He wakes up in his study with a throbbing headache, the beginning of a black eye, and the ghost of Fred Weasley throwing pistachios at his face. Fred and Draco visit Christmas’s present, past, and future, piecing together what connects them beyond the veil. This is a spin on A Christmas Carol, Dramione style.

Home Truths by Anonymous - M, one-shot - “You know every year I think these things couldn’t possibly get more heinous and every year I am proved wrong.” A silver flask was offered to her but she tipped her champagne glass in lieu of a rejection. “Champaign is for celebrating, unless—did I miss an article in the prophet, have you and Weasley finally split up then?” Malfoy mocked, taking far to much delight in the hypothetical misery. She rolled her eyes at him and huffed in indignation “You’re such a fucking asshole.” “I never claimed to be otherwise but at least I’m an honest asshole.

Mistletoe, Mayhem and... Malfoy by Calliope_dreaming - G, one-shot - When an enchanted mistletoe traps Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger together at a Ministry Christmas gala, completing its whimsical tasks is the only way to break free. As they bicker through decorating trees and dodging exploding desserts, old prejudices give way to unexpected truths. Can they uncover the magic of connection under the mistletoe, or will the evening end with more sparks than they bargained for?

So this is Christmas; War is Over by kiyoshikiyoshi - not rated, WIP - “How did you find me” She demanded savagely. “Didn’t I tell you I wanted to be in a cabin and die in the forest after all this is over” He looked at her rather more intently now. For a moment, Hermione froze. These were passing events, deviations from the war that she was trying to forget. After the war, Hermione Granger retreats to an isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere. Somehow, Draco Malfoy finds her. In the stillness of winter, they learn to live life as it was once again.

I Just Want a Heist for Christmas by Anonymous - M, one-shot - Congratulations, you are invited to the first annual Hogwarts Christmas Heist! The Goal: Steal the Portrait of Snape

mine by Anonymous - E, one-shot - “You’ll behave for me, won’t you baby?” Draco played with her curls, before roughly grabbing her neck and forcing her attention on him. He stared at her, his eyes darkening in mere seconds as he waited for an answer from his little girl. “Answer me.” “I’ll behave.” Hermione whimpered. “Do you promise me?” He commanded, his grip on her curls tightening.

Gift-Wrapped by swift_knight - E, WIP - Hermione Granger-Malfoy is a good girl, but her plans for her husband's Christmas present—all tied up with a pretty red bow—might cause her name to end up on the naughty list.

Do You Hear What I Hear by Yeuxverts - E, one-shot - Unspeakables Granger and Malfoy have to spend Christmas Eve in a non-magical tent in Scotland, huddling for warmth. Despite her earlier assertion about compliments, whatever classification of her that was about to leave his mouth was likely to be unflattering. She attempted a deflection via academic nitpick. “Malfoy, I’m trying to sleep, but on the subject, you know you can’t have a species that’s just one person. How would I propagate?” “Granger.” He rolled to face her as though now she had his full attention. “It sounds like you just asked me to tell you how to fuck yourself.”

Hagrid's Special Eggnog by Anonymous - M, one-shot - Pansy, on principle, does not do unity.

[maryhadalittlehobby]

Recap of IWTV Screening and Conversation at 92stY

(Please dont repost/reupload my pics or vids from here or IG anywhere else. Sharing/linkinh is ok. Thanks!)

I started the day with a fang gang meetup hosted by Black Girl Talks Fangs. The restaurant was cute and the food great. I'm not a big wine drinker but got a blood red Chateau in honor of the occasion. After, we headed over to the event space.

In my experience attending different events there, the actors typically come in just before the event starts or a few minutes into the screening.

In this case- it was both.

Eric strolled up super casual and had a convo with myself and a few other fans asking if we had read the books and what we were looking forward to. He gave a parting message that the season is amazing and he is not just saying that because he is part of it. I believe him. He was super personable and down to earth.

Delainey arrived next and again kind and generous with her time. She has a very chill energy. Her outfit was more casual this day but I thought chic and the face card never declines. Her makeup artist does her right! And can we talk about that sleek ass ponytail

She complimented my cosplay and said she thinks my beret might be the screen accurate one!

She asked to touch it and said mine was softer!

She also said Carol Cutshall gifted her the beret so she owns Claudia's.

I put this cosplay together in 3 weeks which is barely enough time. Thankfully I had the idea knocking around since October when we first saw this fit in the trailer that dropped at NYCC 23.

Myself and a few fans waited till about 15 minutes into the start of the screening before we gave up on waiting for Jam Reiderson.

While running to the screening I nearly literally ran into Rolin. I asked for a quick pic which he obliged.

The episode was amazing. Very much on par of season 1 so far. Can't wait to see the full thing. Delainey fit into Claudia seamlessly.

The panel itself was great as well. I have a few vids in my IWTV highlight on IG and a few others in an upcoming youtube video I will make AFTER the episode drops. There are some spoiler bits plus 92Y is dropping the full panel too after the ep airs.

Highlights include watching Jam Reiderson literally communicate telepathically- what was the fun on set story?!

Sam slapping Jacobs' lower inner thigh in front of god (Rolin) and everyone.

Working together is like putting on an old glove. An old sock?! Lol what. 'Is that dirty?'

Assad trauma dumping on main. "Armands lost...like me." "I'm intimidated by the cast" Sir please!

Assad also being spicy saying he thinks Armands memory of Lestat is pretty accurate. Drag him king😄

Delainey and Jacob gushing about how they immediately bonded and established their father/daughter/sibling vibes.

Eric calling Jam puppies and Jacob saying "I'm a grown man a parent"lol Sir you are a baby girl as evidenced by

Rolin saying that's a book and this is a show. To me that said was book lovers have the book and you always will but this is a new thing that respects the source but isn't tied down to every single detail.

Then Sam saying there are contradictions even within the series. Please lets talk about it.

And I love this new narrative everyone is spinning, even Sam, who seemed to be in the Lestat is right and Louis is lying boat last press go round. Now everyone is saying there is no right and wrong or truth and lies-the story is told by different people with different perspectives and that's all. Which yes! that's ALWAYS how I saw it! Just because Lestat became the main character and most favored doesn't mean he is infallible.

Jacob and that plushie. Who would have imagined he'd love it so much. Another fan was coming with their Lestat. I don't know if they had intentions of giving it to Sam but sadly they didn't make it.

After the panel I went back to the spot and aimed to get Jacobs signature on my Street of Immortality print which I managed.

I would have loved to get Sam's to but I also wanted to give other fans the chance to get photos and autos. I was already so lucky.

They signed for a loooong time. So long I thought our side wouldnt have a chance or only a few people would. Turns out fans were conducting mini interviews with them lol Someone needs to collect all the questions and answers.

Also they are the smallest cast you've ever seem. Pocketbsized. Everyone one of them is so unassuming.

Overall I had a super good time. The audience vibes were immaculate. The person beside me during the screening/panel was losing their shit then apologizing. But honestly I was here for it lol

Also you could 100% tell it was an audience full of the online fandom.

I ended the night checking out the Time Square ad. It was awesome to see our vamps represented. Hopefully we get a ton of new fans from all the amazing marketing this year.

[baronessvonglitter]

if love be rough with you, be rough with love | chapter 15 | "mutually assured destruction"

Dave York x f!Reader

Word count: 5,707

Summary: A life-changing secret is unearthed, altering the directions of your life and Dave's.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, TW attempt at self-unaliving, angst, secrets revealed, gaslighting, talk of murder and paid assassination, obsessive!Dave, rough sex, hate sex, unprotected piv, revenge, if I missed anything please let me know!

Author's note: this turned into more than I initially thought, and took a lot out of me emotionally but I'm pleased with it and I hope you are too! Please do not read if you're not in a good headspace, there are very triggering scenarios in place for the sake of dramatic storytelling. For those battling real life demons, please click here for help 🫂

Series Masterlist

It's the day before you leave for London. A Friday.

Years from now you'll look back on this day and wonder how it started so normally, as if fate wasn't already hard at work against you.

You make breakfast for the family: pancakes, fresh fruit, scrambled eggs. The new au pair is coming on Monday and you want to do everything in your power to stay on the family's mind so that they'll want you back when you return from studying abroad, but in the back of your mind you know that won't be an issue.

Sneaking a glance at Dave at the table, you exchange a small, secret glance and a smile, but his eyes never leave you once you busy yourself with other tasks. You can feel his gaze on you, checking you out in your casual outfit of the day: jeans that show off your curves and a cropped long sleeve shirt that shows a sliver of midriff. You're going to miss choosing outfits that will keep you on his mind all day.

Later you get the girls bundled up for school, putting on their warm boots and winter coats. Alice has two different colored gloves on, Molly forgot her library book upstairs. Both girls want to wear their new scarves but they're fighting over the same one. You're already prepared, fixing the situations, showing Dave that you're maternal, giving him a glimpse of what your life together would look like.

You've already made plans to see each other over New Year's, see the sights together, make love in a different country. Honestly you don't think you'd be looking forward to London as much if there wasn't the promise of Dave joining you there, even if only for a little bit. You're learning to have your forever with him in a few stolen moments.

After running some last minute errands (Carol insisted that you spend this time on yourself and she could take care of anything extra) you have everything ready. You're packed, suitcases and passport on your bed.

Slipping into his home office, you dangle a thong around your finger, intending to leave it in his desk, a small memory of you, a promise of what's to come.

A drawer that's usually locked is left slightly open, teasing you, taunting you. You bite your lip. You've never been in Dave's office without him, and you recall what he'd told you:

"There are some other parts of my life, things I can't tell you yet. I know you'll understand when the time comes.."

You shake your head. It's just a drawer, you tell yourself. If Dave were here he'd call you a silly girl, then guide you away from his desk and press you to the wall, or the floor, or-

But you can't resist a peek.

And because of that your world changes.

The rest of your day is spent uncovering your lover's secrets, and the worst secret is saved for last.

In the back of the open drawer, tucked safely into a small black pouch: a class ring with your birthstone, and your gold baby bracelet, your name written in perfect cursive.

Dave returns after work, calling out to the house, knowing you're here somewhere because your car's here and Carol's isn't. It's too quiet. She probably has the girls with her.

"Sweetpea, you home?"

There's no answer, so he shrugs and heads to his office. intending on doing some work for awhile before bed. You'll show up eventually, looking for him, legs spread eagerly, mouth open voraciously, wearing some barely-there lingerie, tempting him while his family's out. He knows you by now, but that doesn't stop him from wanting you.

He knows something is wrong as soon as he sees his office door is cracked open. No one goes in there but him. He steps in to see his office has been searched. Papers are strewn on his desk, files scattered, drawers opened. He feels like he might have a heart attack.

There you are, in a chair in the corner of the room, watching him, waiting for him.

"You're a fucking murderer," you mutter in a half-sob, alerting him to your presence.

The moment those words leave your mouth you know it's a mistake. Dave approaches you, slowly and deliberately. You want to run for the door but you're not sure you can even move. Your heart feels like it will stop at any moment, if Dave doesn't stop it with his own hands.

In one swift movement he grabs you, forces you to the wall, his large hands pinning your shoulders. He's in a rage, seething with anger, hurt, and resentment. But he hides it well, towering over you. "What do you think you read, silly girl? You're not even completely sure what you saw," he motions behind him to his littered desk. "Do you want people to think you're crazy?"

The fear in your blood turns to outrage. You ignore his question and offer one of your own. "My father.. my own father?" Your voice wavers as you keep your cold gaze on him as you say your father's name for the first time in years. "Sound familiar? He should be. Five years ago you killed him."

There is the briefest flicker of surprise in Dave's eyes, soon replaced with approval, estimation even. "What makes you say that, sweetpea?" he asks, his voice honey-sweet.

Nausea threatens to make you keel over, but your righteous anger holds you through. "It was all over your fucking paperwork. And these," you say, opening your palm to show your jewelry he'd stolen that fateful night. He looks but makes no move to take them.

"For years the cops had us convinced it was a home invasion gone wrong.. but they were on your payroll, weren't they?"

"Where's your phone? Give it to me," he demands. When you don't oblige right away he grabs it from your back pocket, rifling through the photos section, checking to see what you've deleted, making sure you don't have anything incriminating waiting to be emailed.

So far he's in the clear and he tosses your phone to the chair.

"What are you going to do about it?" Dave asks, his voice low, cold, nearly a growl, and he looks at you as if you're a bug he's squashed under his shoe. "What are you going to do with the information you have? Because you can't tell anyone, do you understand that? Especially not the police. We both know they won't protect you." He soothes the effect of his words with a soft brush of his knuckles across your cheek. "If you try to spread this.. misinformation to anyone else, you'll disappear."

A shiver goes through you and you knock his hand away. "Why?? Why did you take him away from me? I needed him."

It's a new feeling for Dave. He's never had to deal with the fallout of his extracurricular activity.

"I was just doing my job," he answers, the catch-all phrase he never imagined he'd have to use. "But from everything you've told me about him, I rather think you'd be grateful to me, sweetpea."

You ignore this little quip, too angry to think of anything to say in this heated moment, when your brain is still swimming with mixed emotions. "He was just a name on your list? Is that what you're saying?" you ask coldly.

"Yes," he replies sharply. "He was not a person to me, okay? He was a target. He was a job."

His words are harsh, but they're the truth.

"Do you understand that? Do you understand now how I see people? How my world works? It's made up of people I am paid to kill. People who hire me to do the killing. People who betray others. It's not a game and it's certainly not personal." He takes a moment, looks squarely at you, measuring how you're taking this.

"Did you ever have any idea," you start slowly, "when you hired me to be your kids' nanny? Did you ever have any clue that I might have been his daughter? When you kissed me and fondled me and screwed me, did you ever wonder if maybe my last name was a coincidence?"

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty? If so, it's not working very well. I've learned how to separate myself from the job. Compartmentalization. It's the same thing I do when I'm fucking you and not thinking of my wife, or fucking my wife and not thinking of you. Do you understand that?"

Your hand flies across his face, landing a harsh slap, leaving a red mark that even you can feel the sting of.

His first instinct is anger, then there's a sudden flash of a smile across his face, lighting up his features as he soothes his cheek. "I have to admit, with that scrappy little attitude.. you're just like your father. Tenacious."

You're disgusted with yourself. You've given away your innocence to your father's murderer. You'd loved him and sinned with him, risking so much. You even wanted to marry him someday, in a stupid fantasy of yours that now just feels repugnant.

"Did he see you coming?" You whisper. "Or did you sneak up behind him like a coward when you killed him?"

Dave's smile fades. "I let him see me, and at that moment he knew he found his death," he recollects. "It's the most powerful feeling in the world.. watching the light fade in someone's eyes and knowing you're the cause of it. It's a little like playing god. It was no different with your father."

"And this information you have," he continues, "what exactly are you going to do with it? Because I refuse to have to kill you, sweetpea. It would hurt me too much to have to get rid of you for your curiosity. You opened up a Pandora's Box. Now what are you going to do with all the misery you've unleashed?"

You're calm. Your heartbeat is normal. Glancing out the window there's freshly fallen snow. Such a peaceful scene despite the awfulness playing out with you and the man you loved.

"Carol took the girls out to drive around and look at Christmas lights. They might be gone awhile."

You reach into your pocket and pull out a snub nose revolver, one you'd pilfered from Dave's desk earlier. You pull the hammer back and aim it at him. "I'm going to spare them having to hear their father die, a little gift I'm passing forward that you gave me years ago."

There's a flash of fear that flits across his face as you point the gun at him, which he quickly masks with cold indifference as he raises his hands in surrender, backing away slowly. "You had to have some idea.. all those nights waiting up for me, patching me up when I had a bloody lip or bruised knuckles? They're not always quick kills, sweetpea. Sometimes I have to use my fists."

You don't waver, still aiming the gun, the irony not lost on you that he'd been the one to teach you to shoot. The power you have over him right now is indescribable, with the agony of the revelation of Dave's shadow business lurking just beneath.

"You had to know," he repeats. "Yet you still decided to pursue me, to sleep with me, to fall in love with me." He stares you down as you continue to aim. "Now.. do you think you have it in you to kill me? Because revenge, my silly girl, is not really your style."

His words wound you. Yes, deep down you always knew. You just never put your father's death into the equation.

"You're right," you admit. "I'm not a killer like you. But I'm just as bad as you are."

Despair and guilt rack your body. There's no way out. You'd been prepared to shoot Dave, maybe even kill him as revenge for your dad, but in this moment you have a sudden change of heart.

"You don't have to worry about me telling anyone. I'll take it to my grave."

You aim the revolver at yourself, just under your chin, cold metal against soft, warm skin. "I still love you, Dave."

Click.

You open your eyes and fall to your knees, gasping as you drop the gun. It wasn't loaded. A blinding wave of relief and anguish courses through you as you begin to sob, your entire body shaking.

He walks to you, picking up the gun and opening the chamber. Empty. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to have a loaded gun in my own home, sweetpea? I have children, for Christ's sake." He shakes his head, putting the gun away. "I thought you'd be more clever than that, especially after all I've taught you." He sighs, looking more disappointed than distressed over your attempt. While you're on the ground, hugging your knees to your chest, shivering, he quietly tidies up his desk, putting everything back where it belongs, all his secrets stored away. He locks the drawer with a definitive click.

"You do it," you weep as he kneels next to you, giving you a tissue. "You killed him, now kill me. It would be poetic." You meet his eyes, seeing nothing but coldness in them, knowing that was all there was this whole time. "There's nothing I want in this life anymore."

Dave hugs you, and despite the hatred you feel for him, despite the maelstrom of emotions you find yourself in, you cry on his shoulder as he kisses your hair.

When you've finally cried yourself out, he helps you to your feet. "I'm going to take you for a drive. We need to talk."

In your emotional state you go along with whatever he wants. You're like a zombie, your body functioning but your brain clouded with misery.

You both get in his car, but you don't bother to put your seat belt on.

"Do you trust me?" he asks as you head out on the road.

"That's a funny question," you say in monotone, turning your head to look at him. "I don't know if I do. I shouldn't."

"Here's the thing." He clears his throat, makes himself comfortable for the drive. "I think you do. I know you always have. You shouldn't but you did. You still do. You trusted me enough to be completely vulnerable before me. You trusted me when you slept with me, each and every time. You trusted me when you told me about your awful history with your father. Trust takes guts."

You groan as he speaks about your intimate times together, numerous times, scandalous situations. You'd given your body and your heart.. to a married man.. to your father's killer.

"That trust is gone," you tell him.

Dave sighs, continuing to drive. After almost forty-five minutes he pulls over to the side of the road. You're in the middle of nowhere, far from anyone or anything. He gets out and helps you out of the passenger seat. Taking a tentative look around you see barely lit forest on the roadside, lit by a scattered amount of street lights. The snow has stopped for now, and a chilling wind howls through the desolate night.

Together you walk into the darkness. You fully believe he's brought you here to kill you, to silence you from spilling his secrets. And you feel only the slightest anxiety at this thought.

He leads you up a small path, thick forest on either side of you. Eventually you arrive at the edge of a cliff. The wind roars in your ears.

"What are we doing here?" you shout. It's almost too dark to see him.

He removes his jacket and puts it on you, shivering in your same clothes from this morning, only a denim jacket over them. It's warm from his body heat and smells faintly of his cologne. "Tell me why we're out here," you insist.

Dave looks out over the cliff, seemingly lost in thought. You're not even sure he's heard your demand.

"Did you know your father well, sweetpea?" he finally asks. "Did you spend a lot of time with him?"

It's like a stab to the chest, feeling your dad's loss all over again. "I thought I knew him well enough.. I think he loved me in his own way."

"He was corrupt, sweetpea. He had dealings with men much worse than me, men who would've hurt you and your family if given half the chance. A rival gang paid us to take him out." Dave goes quiet, dipping into that memory, perhaps wishing he could reverse things so you wouldn't be here, in the cold, with him. "I'm not the monster that you think I am. I'm human just like you."

"No, you're not human. Taking lives for money makes you less than that." Tears sting at your eyes, the bitter wind making them cold on your cheeks. You saw how sweet Dave could be with his children, how he gave off the impression of a loving husband even though you knew that particular part wasn't true. He had hidden depths, just like your father. His love for you was conditional, just like your father's.

You need your heart to stay hardened against him.

"I loved my father,” you continue. "I saw bad in him, just as I told you. But that didn't mean I wanted him dead."

"We're all just animals," Dave insists. "And even animals kill each other."

"You're the only animal here, David." You remove his jacket from you, symbolizing how you're done with him, preferring the bitter cold to the warm lies he's trying to give you. He gives a surprised grunt as you shove the jacket against his chest. "I've seen enough and heard enough. I'm walking home."

"You asked if I recognized you the day you came to interview for the position.. truth is, I did."

You turn at his revelation, stopping in your tracks but coming no closer to him.

He continues, "My team and I searched room to room, pilfering a few valuables to make it look like a real break-in. The last bedroom at the end of the hall was cracked open, with a pink light spilling through. When I walked in I could still smell your perfume in the air, something sweet like the kind a girl your age would wear. The clothes you tried on and discarded were strewn on your floral bedspread."

Now he has your attention, now he has you rapt, and as he describes that night you recall your room in that house, the perfume and the bedspread he's mentioned.

"I looked around, took my time, even though I was supposed to be quick," Dave admits. "I looked at the photos you kept by your bedside, removed the silk scarf draped over your lamp - that's a fire hazard, you silly girl." He smirks at you a moment, something akin to mirth in his dark eyes. "I saw the awards on your dresser, the photographs.. a little girl in a ballerina costume, that same girl growing up, attending summer camp, learning archery, and becoming a young woman, attending homecoming dances and learning how to drive.. I saw a piece of your life, sweetpea. And I was entranced."

Your mouth has gone dry. You know every one of those photos, have them collected safely in an album in storage somewhere.

"I didn't know your name, but the moment you came through my door, almost a thousand miles from your home, I was in awe. It had to be fate. You'd come to me, and despite my initial misgivings about having you so close, the possibility of you knowing how we were tied together was so minimal yet held such huge risk. There were times when I was sure you'd call me out for it, maybe blackmail me, so I kept my distance at first. But you were so obvious, sweetpea. You wear your heart on your sleeve, do you know that? It's adorable, especially that look you're wearing now."

You back away, forcing your body to move.

"That beautiful young woman with the pink room and cotton candy perfume ended up finding me, choosing me. I think all this time she's been looking for a replacement for her dead daddy."

"Stop," you beg. It sounds loud in your ears but comes out quietly from your lips.

"I love you," he says in earnest. "I don't care if the world burns. Everything is just a distraction if I can't have you."

A deep breath. "You should have pushed me over that cliff when you had the chance."

"I'm not going to hurt you," he approaches you with a calm demeanor. "I know I threatened to kill you, but that was said in anger. Don't you know how much you mean to me? Frankly I'm hurt by the fact you're even thinking I'd harm you."

You look at him squarely. "Oh, you're hurt?? Why don't we make it even and I take your family away from you?"

"You wouldn't." He holds you in his grasp, looking down on you with a smug expression.

"It would make us even, Dave." With a dark look in your eyes you run your hands along his chest. "I always thought you appreciated symmetry."

His countenance warms, his embrace loosened by your coquetry. "It's fucked up, but I can't help wanting you one last time," he says.

"You're right. It's fucked up."

"Let me take you to that hotel you like so much," he insists. "A proper sendoff before you leave the country. Because nothing is going to stop us, right? We can get past this little obstacle. It's just a tiny hurdle in our relationship."

Your lips curve into a smile as your blood boils. "That expensive hotel we went to, our very first night together? I don't think that's quite the aesthetic we're going for. Take me to the cheapest fucking place that's closest to us."

The motel room is small, smells faintly of cigarette smoke and cleaning product. But it has a bed, and that's all that counts.

Dave starts to unbuckle his belt and you watch, leaning against the dresser. "Remember that first night, when I bled? You told me it was rare to happen in this day and age. But it makes sense now. You shed my father's blood when you murdered him, and you shed mine when you took my innocence."

He's naked, waiting for you to also take off your clothes. "Did you regret giving yourself to me?" He pauses. "Do you hate me?"

"I'm not going to tell you," you smirk without any levity. "Isn't it more exciting to sleep with someone when you don't know how they feel about you?" However, seeing him sans clothing, a near rarity in your relationship, does something to you. You're lucky to be female and hide your arousal for the most part. You back Dave to the bed, making sure he's watching as you take off your clothes too.

His eyes are glued to you, cock already hard at the sight of your nakedness. You press him down to the bed, straddling his lap as you take him into you. Even you can't hide your need for him, the gasp of surprise as he fills you up completely.

You use him, that's the best way to put it. You care little for his kiss or his touch. You're simply taking your pleasure from him, riding him hard, the way he likes it, holding him so close you nearly smother him.

Yes, you love him, but that love has been poisoned by the truth of what he's done. There's no love in your actions, but there are tears in your eyes as you ride him, as if you'd fuck him to death if you could.

He can feel your pain.. the pain of all those secrets revealed tonight, the pain of having to deal with a man like him. And he can feel your anger, because for you, right now, there is nothing but revenge.

You feel it as Dave make himself a blank slate to take the brute force that is the only thing you can offer in this moment, so that you can emotionally bleed out your suffering and anger onto him.

You're riding him hard, taking your pleasure in a vicious way. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you," you moan.

It's a sound of desperation and release, and in a strange way it makes him want you even more. For you, this is revenge, but for him it's pleasure. He grabs you by the waist as you move on top of him, your nails dragging down his back, leaving marks that will be hard to explain later on. Your first instinct is to brush his hands off you, but you're so close to coming, and in that moment you don't care what Dave has done, or who he will hurt in the future. You just need him, and your heart allows a little bit of his love to pierce your armor.

With his hands on your waist, he pushes up and rolls you over. You move with him, teeth tugging on his bottom lip, inflicting more violence in your lovemaking because now.. everything is different. On top, looking you in the eyes.. You might hate him, but right now he doesn't care.

"There it is, there's that anger," he mutters. "Just let it all out, sweetpea. I know what you're feeling right now. I know exactly who I am and what I can be." He takes charge again, showing you that you're not the only one with anger inside of you. He enjoys the violence you're bringing to the bed, the violence that he deserves.

It's as if you're ready for his aggression, happy that he's fighting back. You're turning that pain to pleasure because otherwise the pain will disintegrate you.

You're still cursing him: "Bastard!" "Son of a bitch!" Meanwhile your body holds his close, accepting every forceful movement.

His eyes remain locked on yours the entire time. He doesn't let you escape his gaze. He wants you to see him, because now you can't hate him without hating yourself.

He's hurting you and you're enjoying it, just as it's always been. He kisses you forcefully, moving against you, as if you can't wait for the other to break.

Your bodies crash together savagely, both of you trading your pain and anguish. You dig your fingernails down his back once more as the first sweet, fluttery feelings give way to a strong, hedonistic wave of pleasure that threatens to engulf you. There's no holding back or hiding from it. All you can do is burn within it, let your climax conquer your senses as your cunt grips him more tightly than ever before.

Dave's eyes go wide and he lets out a small groan. He feels your grief and anger, and he loves it. He holds you close as you come together, holding you close as if he never wants to let go. You feel complete when he comes, the way he pushes deep and hard against you, as if imprinting himself in you.

Afterwards, you just want to sleep. All your emotions have come to a head and you're weak from feeling them. You feel like a shell of a person.

Still, he doesn't let you go. He lays on top of you, breathing hard, sweaty from the physical exertion, trying to catch his breath.

He knows that once this night is over he'll go back to being a monster, and you'll always be the girl he betrayed in the worst way.

In this small moment you remain connected, feeling Dave's body against yours as you have so many times before. The ghost of a smile graces your lips as you look at him above you, brushing a small, sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead.

He looks down at you, filled with mixed emotions. He doesn't want to move, but he knows he has to. He climbs off you and lays next to you, watching you. The red motel sign glows into the window of your room, lighting the bed, covering your bodies in a warm scarlet glow.

"What were my father's last words?" you ask in the quietude of the moment.

"He asked for mercy," Dave answers. "He said he had a daughter who needed him. And that if I let him live, he would never cause trouble again."

You try to calm your breathing. "And then what did you do?"

A pause. "I shot him in the head." His voice is like a stone.

You look at him, this man you loved without shame, without guilt. "And how much money did you receive for killing him? What was his life worth?"

"Fifty thousand dollars."

You close your eyes. "Thank you for your honesty."

He doesn't know how to respond. He wants to defend himself, he wants to apologize, he wants to ask your forgiveness. But all he can say is: "I love you."

You turn to him in the half-darkness of the seedy motel room. "I know."

It's early when you wake, body sore, heart broken. You shower, washing away Dave's scent, his sweat, his seed, but somehow he's still under your skin.

He's fast asleep and you don't wake him.

Quietly you order a ride share service to pick you up. There's still work to do.

The next stop is the York household. The girls are still asleep this Saturday morning. Carol's home. For the last time you use your house key.

It's warm and quiet as you walk down the hallway, trying not to make too much noise. You pass by the collage of family pictures bedecking the walls: Carol and Dave on their honeymoon in Paris the girls' baby pictures, piano recitals, family vacations to Disneyland and the Grand Canyon, pictures of the life you wanted but never got.

Carol's at the table drinking coffee. "Good morning," she says brightly. "Aren't you going to miss your flight?"

"I have time." You smile back but it doesn't reach your eyes. "We need to talk."

"Sure," she says agreeably, checking her phone before putting it down, likely waiting to hear back from her husband, who hasn't come home all night.

There were times when you avoided the truth because it would get you into trouble, but now you just want the truth to set you free. "There's something you should know about your husband."

Carol's eyes are wide, already imagining the worst. Trouble at work? Gambling debts? Did he force himself on you? "What is it?" she asks softly as her nerves jangle.

You take a quick look around at the place you've called home for awhile now. When your gaze lands back on Carol's, it's impossible to keep a smirk off your face.

"Dave and I have been having an affair. We've been sleeping together for the past few months."

There's a blankness in Carol's eyes, as if she's processing the information but it's not sticking. What you've said is so sudden that she can't fully believe it yet. "You're kidding," she whispers. "You're just kidding.. right?"

You shake your head. "No.. I can tell you about the birthmark on his upper right thigh, his bondage kink, and he makes this cute little sound right before he cums, like a tiny squeak or whimper."

You feel powerful telling Carol this. "We've fucked in almost every room in this house, including your bed, just last week."

Carol's body goes limp as she assaulted by the onslaught you've unleashed. The words are too much to bear. "You're lying.."

To add insult to injury you continue: "And it's not just about sex. He loves me."

You reach into your purse and pull out your phone, pressing a few buttons and sending Carol an email. "Here's further proof. You can watch it if you want, or don't. I don't care. The tape was my idea, and Dave was more than happy to oblige."

With shaky hands Carol opens the email on her phone, clicks on the video attachment.

What she sees breaks her heart like nothing ever has before. It's not just her husband cheating on her, it's the two of you sharing intimacy, bodies locked together in a passion she had no idea you'd felt for each other.

Now she knows you're not lying, and she can't bear the thought of all the love she's given Dave being betrayed like this. She looks at you with tears in her eyes, her body shaking as she tries to pull herself together. She refuses to be the weak wife who bawls over her husband's misconduct, who eats her own bitter, broken heart in front of the godforsaken Other Woman.

"Why?" she simply asks.

"Why?" you repeat. "Because sometimes, Carol, people come into our lives just to ruin it, to change it irreparably." In saying that, you're thinking of your father, a bullet through his brain, Dave on the other side, holding the smoking gun.

Upstairs you grab your luggage, coming down to see that Carol is still crying, still watching the video, the sounds of your wicked moans and Dave's sultry praise audible through her phone.

"A word to the wise," you leave her with parting words. "I'm not the first one Dave's cheated on you with. Odds are I won't be the last."

You leave your house key on the table in the front hall. On your way outside in the crisp morning air you feel inexplicably lighter. Grabbing your phone you text Dave one last time:

Mutally assured destruction 🖤

Getting back into your Lyft you glance back at the house and see the girls there, Alice and Molly, their faces pressed to the window like car window cling toys. You don't wave to them, even when they're trying to get your attention. You can't save them anymore than they can save you.

He destroyed your family, and now you're returning the favor.

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

dividers by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

taglist: @untamedheart81 @guelyury @auteurdelabre @darkheartgatita (if I have forgotten anyone, or for a request to be tagged in future chapters, please inbox me)

[lovelyatomicpeace]

Beyond the masks, charapter two

Meeting under the rain

November 7, 1983

Bip

Bip

Bip

The sound of the alarm clock echoed throughout the room too loudly for those early hours, causing you to whimper under the mound of blankets where the high-pitched sound of the alarm clock made its way through the morning silence, like an annoying insect that insisted on disturbing your sleep: the room was shrouded in a halo of darkness, with the curtains barely up, allowing very little light in. With a sigh of resignation, you reached out an arm and grabbed the alarm clock, turning it off firmly. That sound boomed in your head like a drum, but at least it was over. You looked up to look at the time: 7:45. It wasn't bad.

You kicked off the covers and got up slowly to rest your feet on the marble-cold floor and yawning, you dragged yourself into the bathroom to look at your reflection in the mirror: two large dark circles under your eyes widened: you hadn't been able to sleep the previous night as you had so often since that night…

"Ew," you muttered, running your tongue over your white teeth: you needed coffee, but you knew you couldn't make it otherwise you would have wasted your time: slipping on a pair of jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt and sneakers with one last glance at your reflection you hurried down the stairs, grabbing your coat by the sleeve. You preferred to take your bike to school, finding a spot in that parking lot was impossible, better hell. You look again at the watch on your wrist

8:00

"Shit!" it was super early when you woke up and it didn't take you long to get ready, why are you always late? You pedaled as fast as you could is relatively on time you arrived at the building dropping your bike in the bike rack, under everyone's gaze. You couldn't afford to be late again Professor Williams, from geography class, would surely not spare you an afternoon in detention today.

The school was like an island in chaos. The voices of students and teachers mingled in a constant buzz, like the waves of a stormy ocean. You got lost in the crowd, trying not to attract too much attention, the bell rang like an alarm siren causing the crowd to dissolve, In an instant, in the direction of various classes. You ran to get to class on time and managed to slip inside the classroom just before the door closed. The professor gave you a stern look, but decided not to comment on your late arrival, reciprocated by your toothy smile.

The room was full of people talking to each other incessantly: some were scribbling in their books, some were noisily tapping their hubby on the desk in time to the music, and then there were Tommy, Carol and Steve Harrignton: their eyes fell on you the moment you crossed the threshold.

Why was there no mutual affection between you? Well this no one could know, least of all you but of one thing you were certain to throw the first stone was them.Luckily for you, not that you feared them, they could not say or do anything because williams began the class.

You sat at the desk and although you tried to concentrate there was something that distracted your attention like a persistent and annoying thought: The previous night you had been plagued by a nightmare, worse than the other times that made you wake up suddenly having the feeling that someone was watching you from afar, even now the sensation seemed persistent to you and became more and more incisive: almost by instinct you turned around, to see the eyes of the last person you expected pointed at you

Harrington

He had those silly striped shirts that only someone like him could wear (and that only Nancy could like so much) and that hair...well...worse than other days...

You returned his gaze, which was not interrupted at all, arching your eyebrow as if to ask him an intrigued question: why was he staring at you?

At some point, your thoughts were interrupted when the professor asked loudly, "Y/n, did you understand the question?" causing you to turn around in front of him under Tommy and Carol's giggles: all eyes turned to you, waiting for an answer you could not formulate

Great

The sudden knock on the door caused, fortunately, the guys in the classroom to change the direction of their gaze: the door opened allowing the police chief to enter: he was much bigger than you remembered him, with two thick mustaches framing his face and the big cowboy hat covering his head. He positioned himself quite wearily next to the teacher's desk; you were looking out the window many other times police officers from the station came to the school to organize, as they called them "friendly inspections," but today it was for a different reason…

"Y/s can you follow us outside?" Thundered the voice of Hopper deep making you turn sharply toward him with your eyes out of their sockets.

Now everyone was looking at you....

The lights outside the room were stronger making you close your eyes a little to adjust again: you had your eyebrows lowered so far downward that by dint of holding the position your head had begun to hurt in whirling thoughts. You didn't realize that you had exited the building and reached the middle school nearby

What? To the middle school!!!

Those four have been up to another one of their own, if they've done it big I swear to them...wait why call me?

You arrived outside the president's office, and to allow you in, Hopper threw the door wide open: sitting on the white couch in the large, brightly lit room were Mike, Lucas, and Dustin, and Will? Where was Will?. Standing by the studio curtains there is Joyce who continued to nibble her fingers anxiously

You could tell something was wrong

"Guys well..." the principal began, "Will...unfortunately didn't come home last night. Is mom thinks he's missing..." the principal continued in a calm voice.

What?

Will was missing? I took him home.

Thoughts of the previous night resurfaced in your head making the sudden sense of nausea grow even more. Hopper started asking the boys questions with a threatening attitude from which, however, he was able to glean little information, as usual they were all talking at once and nothing could be understood. Then the noises in the room ceased and the gazes turned to you.

You were seized with remorse

"What about you? What can you tell us?" Hop asked questioningly-you looked at Joyce with tears at the edge of your eyes, the whole situation seemed so surreal.

"I...I..." you stammered "I was the last one to see Will...well to walk him home like I always do" caught up in the agitation

"And..." he incited you.

"Nothing, he took his bike out of the trunk and went inside, I wouldn't have left if he hadn't" you said casting a glance at Joyce seeking her reassurance...silence fell in the room

Of course it wasn't the most a mother could expect from an investigation to find her son, but they knew you had no other information that's why they let you out of the room and in a hurry too.

Once outside you didn't know what to do: getting back to class was surely the least of the problems Williams could put all the notes he wanted on you as well; right now the problem was another Finding Will.

Dustin paced back and forth in the dimly lit hallway, and by his side Lucas rested his head in his hands

"and now what do we do” croaked Mike.

"Well here we have to find our friend" said Dustin as if it was something normal, of course you knew it was right but the idea did not appeal to you at all in fact it was synonymous with danger

"No, no, no wait guys, you, WE, are not going to do anything at all. I know Will is your friend , but the police are enough!" At that moment the adults left the room: you left the 3 alone so you could approach Joyce, stopped her by the arm and looking into her eyes you said:

"Will will return home, I swear I will do everything I can to find him..." as if to apologize and let her know you were not involved in this whole situation: Joyce leaned forward to exchange a hug with you that you were reluctant to give at first.

A weight had been lifted off you; at least her mom had faith in you, and that was already a big step forward.

She put her hand on your cheek and with a flickering smile walked away along with as Hopper, leaving you alone with the three little boys, again: they looked at you almost pleadingly, you understood that they would not easily get rid of their idea, and bringing your arms crossed over your chest you huffed resignedly

"Into Mr. Clarke "s office, now," Mike ordered.

Running behind them you reached the darkened study: locked inside the children began to confabulate and you watched them curiously, "Assuming Will was kidnapped or escaped, he must surely have lost something in the Mirkwood" explained Mike

"The what?" You asked seriously intrigued but squaring only 3 disapproving glances

"The forest of the lord of the rings" said Lucas as if it was a matter of course.

"Oh well sorry..." you admitted raising a hand.

With a snort Mike resumed speaking "if we really have to find him we have to start from there he can't be far away" indeed he had a point, you were sure you too could find him nearby

"We'll look for him tonight" said the leader of the group.

"Whoa, whoa tonight? How are we going to tell your moms that they surely won't let you out, huh?" They looked at you almost pleadingly knowing what they were getting at

"Oh no, absolutely not. You're not going to use me as an excuse, we understand..."

"We know you want to find him as much as we do, we heard you tell Joyce. I don't have the clavicles but the ears do," Dustin admitted, interrupting you.

And again looking at them you couldn't refuse

"Alright...." you hissed getting smiles from everyone

What a mess you got yourselves into....

After the encounter with the police you had returned to school only to pick up your bike and pedal home again: you couldn't go back inside under everyone's stares and say what had happened, you didn't even know if you could. You would spend hours in your room not even touching a morsel of food (although you had not eaten breakfast): the hole in your stomach was too big to allow you to consume anything. The more you thought that the night before you should have stayed with Will the more guilt plagued you and with it the bile rose in your throat

Why did you leave?

Perhaps also caught up in the excitement the hours passed quickly and darkness fell again on your cluttered room

A slight buzzing interrupted the tranquility and then a metallic voice recited:

"Gold boss, gold boss here do you receive me?…. I repeat gold boss here, do you receive me? Over" Dustin's voice hissed through the walkie talkie the 4 children had given you in Christmas 1981

"YES" shouted you, Lucas and Mike from the other end of the device in different parts of town.

"Well you should say step before closing communication others..."

"Stop it Dust," Lucas's voice: when I crack a smile, the first of the day.

"The operation Will can start" this was the signal you were waiting for from Mike, you jumped out of bed and running out you got on the saddle to reach his house, you had opted for the bicycle because otherwise the car would make too much noise outside their house. You arrived pedaling as fast as you could: you had to catch Mike and meet up with the other two toward the end of the road.

You arrived outside their house where the boy was already waiting for you and before you left you noticed the figure of a boy, younger, climbing, awkwardly, to the window of Nancy's room: you couldn't believe it.

If only you had brought your camera with you, you would have been able to capture this surely embarrassing moment: the king of Hawkins high hanging awkwardly from a window. You let go a laugh that had stuck in your chest causing him to turn sharply to notice your presence

"Seriously Harrington..." you said laughing and earning a grimace from him.

"Fuck y/s" you rolled your eyes and pedaled away.

The photo spot in your backpack was definitely a reminder....

Albeit slightly late you arrived at the two boys and got only scolding from Dustin, "Keep pedaling Henderson," you told him to get him to stop talking, under silent thanks from the others....

A short time later you arrived at the gates of the woods you left your bicycles on the asphalt: the rain had begun to beat hard on the ground making the smell of wet earth rise to your nose, which you didn't mind at all; what bothered you most was being soaked from head to toe, to follow those boys who didn't even have a trail. You had been walking nonstop for half an hour, and what's more, without finding that it belonged to Will

Suddenly, however, the sound of a broken branch made your ears perk up; you turned toward the boys, who had remained behind you, bringing your index finger straight to your nose and lips to let them know that they had to shut up at once

And so they did...

With your flashlights pointed forward you approached toward the area where I noise was intensifying and with it the beating of your heart against your chest…

From behind the leaves appeared a little girl: she might have been the same age as the 3, perhaps a year younger. She had very short hair that was almost shaved to nothing, only a long yellow T-shirt that barely covered her slender game and her eyes closed from the annoying light coming into her face

Do you think that site stood in a while observing her, weirded you is scared her....

"Guys I think the mission can end here," you said without an edge of emotion: fortunately this time the children shared your thought, earning you everyone's approval. As they walked away to return to their bicycles you extended a hand toward the strange little girl in front of you: surely you would not have left her in the rain…

She rested her little fingers in yours and together you returned to the bike

What a night that would present itself…

Guyss here there is the second part of the story i hope u can enjoy it😎

[drytacomeat]

𝐀 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

My first series begins! It was actually inspired by a random prompt generator. I plan to make it 3 parts, and probably have smut. Sorry the header is ugly kinda. I’ll work on that.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Plus Size Black! Reader

Synopsis: Steve is suddenly unarmored by Y/n, and he is determined to get her to give him a chance.

3.9k words

You couldn’t say you were one of them yourself, but today you did have ulterior motives. You actually needed to study for the third history exam this week. Your teacher was insane to be quite frank.

Despite that, the library was pretty packed with buzzing and gossiping girls. It was sweet you thought.

They didn’t really think the same about you, that was common knowledge.

You were about the only girl here who did not wear cute skirts and flattering sweaters. There also were not many bigger girls at this school. Layering being black, fat, and not your average styled girl was a recipe for being an outcast.

You tried your best though, and you figured the people that truly mattered around here liked you. You were a good person who did good things. You also gave discounts to any parents who had kids also in high school for your babysitting services.

Some of those parents really needed to be cut some slack, and their kids would come to you for thanks. You’d built quite the reputation, so, no, you weren’t bothered much despite odds being against you in little Hawkins.

You weren’t noticed much either though, at least not until this beautiful Spring day that you decided to sit by the window of the library so you could watch the surroundings.

“Hey, do you work here by any chance?” Steve Harrington asked you with a look of desperation. He completely yanked you out of your own daydream.

You couldn’t help but scrunch your face because what the actual fuck?

“No, I’m a student here…we have been in school together since kindergarten. I’m in the same history class as you,” you shook your head and looked back down to your book. You wished you would have took the extra 2 minutes to look for your Walkman this morning.

“Oh, I‘ve—um—never seen you around here before,” his eyebrows shot up and his lips curled inwards like he was actually trying to think.

“Probably just weren’t looking for me,” you responded lowly.

He just shrugged.

“Well, you’re the only one over here, so maybe you could help me out?” he somewhat smiled.

“Depends on what you need “King Steve”,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Don’t—whatever. Can you just tell me where the history books are?”

You pointed towards the back of the library, and to your luck, he didn’t ask for more. He would have to search more, but by the time he would come back to the table for further instruction, you would be gone.

You quickly grabbed your items and walked away. So much for studying.

As you began to make it near the library exit, you questioned as to how he could just not know you? The school was not big enough for that honestly. You didn’t necessarily stick out aside from the obvious because you were relatively but still.

Now, you were usually never one to go by rumors as you had heard so many about yourself that were just blatant lies, but there were a lot about Steve. Some of those rumors were even proven to be true by one of your closest friends who happened to actually date him, Nancy Wheeler. Still, maybe “King Steve” was just all caught up in his mousse slicked head. Maybe he was just an asshole.

Just as you walked out the double doors, you bumped into dickhead Tommy Hagen and his girl, Carol.

“Watch where you’re going fat-ass,” he spat, and Carol threw her shoulder in such a bitchy way that it made you inwardly cringe.

As usual, you did not respond. You just went on about your day.

•••

Steve had been racking his mind that whole day. How could he not have known you? If you had been in school together since kindergarten, there was no way he just could not know you. You weren’t just the typical Indy girl. No, you dressed differently, and in his opinion, you looked quite different, as well. Not that he saw anything wrong with that.

He had seen your interaction with Tommy and Carol that day and cringed a little himself. You had definitely been a target of the two at least once before then, so that made him really wonder as to how he never noticed you before. Well, he never really noticed any of the people Tommy and Carol bothered because they bothered everybody really.

He tried not to think of it too much really. Him getting his ass handed to him almost every time he fought could be to blame for this memory clog.

It’s just that after that moment, he started to see you everywhere now.

He saw you in the cafeteria, in the school parking lot, at the vending machine, at the water fountains immediately after lunch. He saw you walk into your classes (he could probably wring your schedule out if he tried hard enough now), and he even saw you in the gym after school. He didn’t think you played any sports. Not necessarily because of how you looked, but because other people knew how you looked. There was no doubt you would experience mistreatment, unless you were absolutely perfect at whatever you did.

He had been seeing you so much the past two weeks. He would think you were doing it on purpose, but you seemed to show no interest in him when he asked for help in the library. He also only saw you doing absolutely normal things around school as well and not paying attention to him whatsoever.

Over the time, he started to take notice to your wardrobe. You never wore bright colors. Every color you wore was muted and…dull. You also never wore skirts. Ever. It was spring, and you wore no skirts. What kind of Hawkins girl are you? He figured you accessorized well enough, even though he knew nothing about that sort of thing.

He always found his eyes on you all of a sudden, and he didn’t know why. You were nothing like any girl he was ever involved with.

•••

If he hadn’t agreed to taking this scrunchy little kid to his little middle school dance, he might have gotten over this abrupt infatuation sooner than later.

“Sorry, Steve. I left my bike here earlier because my mom picked me up, and I just don’t want it to get stolen or anything,” Dustin explained as they both pulled into the Wheeler residence.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not too out of the way,” Steve shrugged.

Dustin quickly scrambled out of the car to go after his bike.

As someone made their way out of the front door, he averted his attention from the boy.

It…it was you! What the actual fuck were you doing here? And you had on a dress! It was a little maroon number with black lace trimmings around it. He had never seen any girl wear a dress like that, but then again, he didn’t pay attention to what they were wearing for too long.

You had your hair done up into some sort of braids that he was sure you did not have in earlier, and you had on makeup. Simple look, but makeup nonetheless.

You looked really fucking pretty, and Steve was losing his mind.

Steve’s eyes lingered maybe a little longer than they should have until Dustin jumped back into the car.

“Sorry that took so long. Come on, Steve. You have to floor it because I cannot be late!” Dustin panicked.

Steve nodded and reversed the car, still looking in your direction. Nancy was following behind you now.

No way. Were you friends with Nancy this whole time?

You were absolutely confusing his mind.

He emptied his head as he watched Dustin enter the gym after near drowning himself in cologne.

Steve could not believe that he was here in this moment. Driving a little scraggly kid around and actually enjoying it. He was really starting to grow fond of the little guy. A lot of things in his life was just starting to scramble around.

•••

The day after those kids’ little dance, Dustin was absolutely talking Steve’s ear off.

“—and then this girl danced with me!” Dustin spoke causing Steve to completely zone in.

“What? A girl danced with you, Henderson?” Steve’s eyebrows raised, “I told you man!”

Dustin cheesed widely.

“Yeah, she was-actually you might know her! She’s in high school!” he faced Steve excitedly.

“High school?” Steve now raised his brows more.

“Yes! High school, Steve! She babysits for the Wheeler’s so I kind of know her, but that does not change the fact that I looked like the coolest motherfucker there!” he yelled.

“Hey, watch it,” Steve said, sternly eying the boy. Dustin just sat there staring Steve down for a second before they both burst out laughing.

“Okay, well, there’s a lot of girls in high school, Henderson. What’s she look like?” Steve asked.

“Uhm, probably a few inches shorter than you. She’s…well…she’s black, and she’s just really pretty. She had her hair in these braids and stuff,” he rambled while moving around more before he accidentally spilled his can of soda.

“Aw, fuck, Henderson!” Steve yelled quickly reaching down to grab the can.

“Sorry,” Dustin cowered.

Steve just threw down some napkins he so conveniently had on his dashboard into the mess. He made sure to floor it too.

“Sorry about your car, Steve,” Dustin frowned as they pulled up to his house now, “I get my allowance on Monday! I can help pay for cleaning or something maybe.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Steve rolled his eyes and shooed Dustin sassily.

Dustin hopped out quickly, and Steve was about to drive off until he recalled the conversation he had before this. He wanted to know what high school girl now got the privilege of being the middle school gossip topic for the next week or so.

“Henderson!” he yelled out, “What was the name of that girl that graced you with a little dance?”

“Oh! Uh, Y/n!”

•••

Steve actually scraped his brain that entire weekend. He did not know anyone who went by the name Y/n, but it had sounded familiar.

He felt like his mind was actually leaving him at this point.

•••

That next day at school, Steve had been watching you the whole day, yet again. You were always just around, and nothing was clicking in his poor little mind.

As he noticed you more, he noticed that everyone seemed to know you. You interacted with a huge variety of people. Despite your size, which is something most of the kids here are super petty and judgmental about, no one ever really bothered you, except for Tommy and Carol.

He found that strange.

Speaking of, he sat in the school cafeteria berating Tommy about not eating his meatloaf and how he should’ve gave it to him.

Once he looked away from his tray, he noticed you were standing in front of his table, running a conversation with the cheerleaders. You talked to them effortlessly, and it looked as if you all were friends.

He couldn’t help but berate himself for having the mentality that it’s a shock people treat you kindly.

As he sulked on his poor judgement. Carol stood up and apparently bumped into you. You quickly turned around to apologize as she was turning around as well.

This caused you to drop the vanilla pudding cup in your hand to the floor. Steve’s brows jumped as he inspected the situation.

You were frantically apologizing as Carol was dramatically gasping.

“You bitch!” she yelled and notified the entire cafeteria. Everyone’s attention was on you now, and you were cringing. So was Steve. This wasn’t unusual of Carol. She was a real piece of work.

What was unusual, though, was that Carol raised her hand to you and slapped you right across the face.

Carol was usually all bark, no bite. Steve’s jaw dropped, and Hagen had a big grin on his face. He looked over at his “friend” and scoffed. His eyes went back to you, and you seemed as though you just processed the slap as your hand went up to your cheek. Carol turned back to look at Hagen who was still grinning widely. Almost as if he was…proud of Carol.

You scoffed and reached down to pick the pudding up off of the floor. Steve figured you would just walk away, but you dipped your hand into the pudding. Carol was taken off guard when you smeared your pudding soaked hand across the top of her red hair.

Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile as you flung the pudding from your hand as Carol looked distraught.

His eyes caught yours for a split second. His face ran a little hot, and he quickly looked down. You had quite the balls.

Everybody knew Carol was a piece of shit, but nobody ever did anything about it.

“I’ll kill you, Y/n!” Carol yelled as Tommy came to her aid quickly with a napkin.

You stormed out of the cafeteria as Tommy was trying to help Carol. She was only slapping his hand away and running off in a different direction.

Meanwhile, Steve’s eyes were bulging out of his head. You were Y/n! It was all clicking now, and Steve was cursing himself for being such a dumbass.

You were the girl to dance with Dustin. The girl he could not stop talking about. Hell, after hearing all the great things Dustin said about you, Steve even started to like you a little bit, not even knowing it was you.

Now that he put a name to face, he couldn’t help but like you a little bit more. He knew nothing about you, though.

He would have to change that.

•••

Steve was pulling Henderson up to the Wheeler’s house. They were supposed to be playing their little nerd game that had absolutely too much going on to even possibly be fun. Dustin was bouncing in his seat from excitement.

“And then, they are going to let me be dungeon master this time, Steve! Don’t tell him, but Will is a master hog,” Dustin rolled his eyes.

Steve tried to look interested, he really did.

“Yeah, well, good luck Henderson,” Steve granted him a smile as Dustin was about to hop out of the car.

“Oh! One more thing, can you, uh, ask Nancy where this…Y/n may happen to stay?”

Dustin’s face puzzled before he looked around. Steve had pleading eyes, kind of hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions. He knew how this must’ve sounded.

“Oh! You know Y/n!” he bounced a little, “Man, you’re so cool, Steve.”

Steve only raised his eyebrows at the boy. Dustin nodded and ran on off into the Wheeler house.

Steve was about to back out of the driveway until he saw Nancy’s small frame dashing out of the house. She was walking with such intensity that her hair was rising inches from her shoulders before cascading back down.

Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes and sigh. Fucking Henderson.

Steve rolled his window down and tried to put on his best fake smile. He was nervous because he knew Nancy was probably some type of upset.

“Steve! Why are you having a little boy ask me about Y/n?” Nancy said in an accusingly way, even if she wasn’t technically accusing Steve of anything yet.

“I just…I-I needed to ask her something,” he tried to say coolly and shrugged. “I don’t see why it’s, um, any of your business.”

She gave Steve the must incredulous look.

“Steve, c’mon. Seeing as you are my ex and she is my friend, it is very much my business!” she declared.

Steve shrugged nervously. Nancy could only sigh.

“You don’t have a good track record with girls, Steve. If you’re trying to play some game with

Y/n, I promise you that I am not letting that happen,” Nancy shrugged and crossed her arms.

Steve couldn’t help but admire her carefulness.

“Look, I watched her get bitch-slapped by Carol. I wanted to apologize for the situation,” he said after letting out a breath.

“You never have tried to apologize to anybody Hagen and Carol have taunted before, except for Jonathan,” she sighed. Steve couldn’t help but cringe at the name. He was over the situation, but reminders of it still made his heart murmur.

“She also danced with Dustin. He’s like obsessed with her. I just want to do a nice gesture for the girl. You have to believe me,” Steve pressed.

“You don’t know her.”

“Hoping to change that,” he half smiled.

Nancy stared at him intensely, perhaps scanning his face, before her eyes softened.

“Fine, I’ll tell you where she stays, but you have to bring me with you when you decide to go. That’s my rule, and I will not break it,” she uncrossed her arms and pointed at Steve.

He nodded slowly. She turned away and stormed back off into their house.

Steve let out a breath he had not known he was holding. That was fucking intense.

First part! To be honest, I am not sure if this will be correct because I wrote it in another place and transferred it because Tumblr is very hard to write in. Let me know if it looks like there are any gaps and feedback/ requests are welcomed.

[scarlettjohanssons-mistress]

I NEED A PART TWO OF THESE

You're beautiful 2

Warnings: PURE fluff, domestic fluff

Word count: 1.2 K

Pairing: Carol Aird x Fem!Reader

Prompt: An impromptu date, books and men?

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [Carol masterlist]

The next morning, I realised that we had forgotten to close the curtains in the bedroom, as the sun was beating directly into my eyes. I couldn't fall asleep again, so I started to move around in bed, until I heard a groan and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Carol's blonde hair move.

"Hmmn, don't go," still half asleep, she put her arm on my hip and tried to pull me closer to her.

"I'm just going to close the curtain. The sun won't let me sleep".

She only moaned again, but she didn't let go. She opened her eyes, giving me the pleasure of being the first to see those blue rivers in the morning.

I had always thought I had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen, but in the morning, they were much more beautiful. They turned from a greenish blue to a light blue, like spring skies, like carnations.

"Good morning princess smiles" the blonde teased.

I didn't notice, but I was so engrossed in Carol's eyes, I didn't realise I was looking at her with puppy dog eyes and a stupid grin.

"Good morning"

"Did you sleep well?"

"I'm the one who should be asking you that question, did you sleep well… after what happened?"

"Hmm next to you, I slept wonderfully."

I didn't know what to say to her, so I simply reached up to caress her right cheek with a smile, causing me to give her another.

"Do you plan to do anything?"

"I had lunch planned with Abby…" I felt my heart break a little, and apparently it was all too evident on my face "But I think she can wait."

"So…?"

"Fancy going into town?" she asked as she rested her weight on her right forearm and with her left hand, tried to tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear.

"Sounds like a great plan.

———————————————————————————

Carol let me use some cleaning products, and she let me use her bathroom, but when she insisted that I use some of her clothes I had to refuse.

I was too clumsy, and was well known for spilling food on myself. I would never forgive staining clothes as expensive as those of the blonde woman.

I came out of the bathroom in the same simple dress I had on yesterday and quickly went down the big stairs. Carol was not in the hall.

"Carol?"

"Darling, do you want me to make breakfast or can we go to a coffee shop?"

"Can you cook anything without Florence?" I joked with her.

"You found me out," she said, smiling with those beautiful lips of her.

"Going to a coffee shop sounds perfect".

"Well, if that's the case, you won't be able to go with your coat" I quickly turned my head to look at her doubtfully "It's too cold, and your coat isn't warm enough to cope. You'll have to wear one of mine."

"No, I refuse"

"It's not an option, darling"

"Then I can't go out. I'm not going to wear one of your coats."

"Sweetie, what's your problem with wearing any of my clothes?"

I felt the heat and warmth start to rise in my cheeks, so I bowed my head to the ground.

"I'm afraid to stain it"

She just laughed and made me raise my head.

"Oh darling, that's not a problem" she quickly disappeared into the hall wardrobe and came out wearing a black coat, which matched my white dress perfectly. "Look at you, you look like a sweet doll."

———————————————————————————

The breakfast had been perfect. Fancy enough for Carol to feel at home in the place, but homey enough for me not to fall apart next to her.

We were both completely different in that respect. She came from a wealthy family, who had fallen in with Harge's even wealthier family. I had had to sell the only souvenir I had of my mother in order to eat.

"Are you all right?"

Carol gently took my arm, causing me to stop walking distractedly and start paying attention to her.

"What?"

"I asked if you were well. You seem distracted"

"Oh, it's nothing"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes…" but just as I was trying to come up with a better excuse, my eyes automatically focused on the second-hand bookstore across the street from the shopping plaza Carol wanted to go to.

The blonde seemed to notice, so she turned her head to look around the room.

"Do you want to go?" she asked with a toothless grin.

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"Not at all. On the contrary, now, without Rindy, I think I could do with a good book."

Without even waiting for Carol, I quickly ran to the bookshop, looking at the millions and millions of books that could be housed in such a small space.

Not only were there shelves full of books, there was also a small shelf full of vinyls, another full of magazines and another full of comics.

"Wow, I've never seen this shop before," Carol said as soon as she opened the door.

From a connecting room, a man emerged, handsome, rather portly, with lank blond hair, and green eyes behind big black glasses.

"Good afternoon, can I help you with something?

"No, thank you…"

———————————————————————————

"Actually," Carol interrupted, still looking at the neatly organised vinyl. "I'd like to see if you have any Billie Holiday."

"I think we can find something that will satisfy your desires, fair lady."

Yes, the books I could find on the shelves were varied, interesting and eye-catching, but not even my love of reading made me look away from Carol and the man.

The two stood facing each other, holding a variety of vinyls in their arms, talking animatedly.

But, something inside my stomach churned when the man passed her a red vinyl, but his hand brushed a little against the blonde's freckled hand.

I quickly grabbed the two books I wanted to buy and walked over to them.

Carefully I turned my back to Carol and rested my head on her shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

The blonde jumped in fright, eliciting a small giggle from the man.

"Girl, don't scare me"

I couldn't help laughing either.

Carol and the man kept flipping through the vinyl sleeves, until I saw the one I knew Rindy would love.

"You should buy that one," I pointed out.

"'The Wizard of Oz?'" asked Carol, raising an eyebrow.

"It's Rindy's and my favourite film".

"It's a GREAT film," the man said.

"Well, if you two are so insistent, I'll buy it."

Before I could say anything else, Carol snatched the books from me and walked to the counter. The man followed her, as did I, and proceeded to collect the items. He put them in a bag and before handing it to the blonde, he pulled out a pink card from under the table. He looked at us and asked us to read it.

'Homosexual bar'.

We both looked at him with confusion. He just winked at us.

"My boyfriend and I would be delighted to welcome a couple as beautiful as you".

"But how?"

"The looks they give each other are charming. And 'The Wizard of Oz'? is the gayest thing in the world".

Now it was my turn to laugh along with the man.

"I plead guilty," I said.

"Well, thank you very much…"

"George"

"Thank you George"

"See you there George"

Note:

Sorry for the delay, I had an eye infection and being in front of a computer was impossible for me.

I love them ❤

I hope you enjoy it

I appreciate the reblogs, the likes and the comments

taglist: @littlebitchsposts // @xxsekhmet

message me or send an ask to be added to my taglist!

[makethatelevenrings]

Angel By the Wings - TWENTY

Chapter Warnings: discussion of abortion, small mention of domestic violence, pregnancy

Series Masterlist AND Mobile Masterlist

Bradley pressed the name in his contacts and waited for the phone to dial before he let himself think and further. His feet carried him a mile away from Hangman’s house to some 24-hour diner where the waitress called him baby and he could order a stack of pancakes larger than Jake’s ego.

Pregnant. Fuck. It could easily be his kid. Four weeks ago, he was pulling delicious noises from you as he fucked you like it was his goddamn job. And then when you said the words, it felt like ice water had been poured over his head. 

Because he had just gotten back from a mission where he nearly died and all he could think about was the fact that he could have easily left his kid behind like his dad did. He didn’t remember much of his dad, just bits and pieces that he learned mostly through absorbing it from other people, namely his mom and Maverick. But he was keenly aware of the grief that consumed his mom. She might have died from cancer, but he still believed a broken heart played a role in that.

He couldn’t do that to you. He wouldn’t. He saw what losing his dad did to his mom. He wouldn’t let that happen to you or Jake.

But it could be your kid, that traitorous voice in the back of his mind whispered. Do you really want to give up that opportunity? To be a dad? To be in a kid’s life? To impact them the way you were impacted, even if it had just been the legacy Goose left behind?

“Hello?” Maverick sounded confused when he answered Bradley’s call. They had seen each other only two hours earlier and now Bradley was calling him out of the blue.

“How did my dad react when he found out my mom was pregnant?” He figured he didn’t really have time for pleasantries when it felt like the walls were shrinking around him.

“I…well, he was excited. I think he was honestly more excited than your mother. Carole told him over the phone because we were deployed on a carrier for three months and he damn near hit the roof.” A soft laugh escaped Maverick. “He spent the next few months constantly talking to any parent on the boat asking for advice. And the moment he saw her at the baggage claim, he just started crying. I’d never seen him cry so much.”

Bradley looked out the window and saw his reflection stare back at him, a smile lifted on his face. His mom always spoke of Goose as though he hung the moon, but it was different hearing about their love from an outsider perspective.

“And did he ever…was he ever scared?”

“Oh, he was scared shitless. Carole told me he fainted during labor and I swear he had, like, six parenting books at all times.”

“But was he ever scared about…leaving me?”

Something rustled on the other end of the line before Maverick finally replied, his voice quiet. “What’s this about, kid?”

How do you explain to the guy who basically raised you after your dad died that you might have knocked up a girl and the other potential father was Hangman?

“Just curious,” he replied.

“Bradley.” Yeah, he knew that tone. That was Mav’s “you can’t out bullshit the bullshitter” tone. Bradley ran his hand over his face and then rested his forehead on his palm, eyes squeezed shut. The encompassing scent of black coffee curled around his shoulders and he was grateful for Doris’ continued refills.

“She’s four weeks pregnant, Mav, and the kid could be mine and the minute I found out, I just…”

“Ran,” Maverick sighed. “Because you thought about your mom. And you got scared.”

Damnit. Years of not speaking and he still had Bradley figured out in seconds. Bradley shouldn’t have called. He just dumped this on the man he was yelling at a week ago and nearly died with three days prior.

“Goose never regretted having you. The opposite, actually. He told me that he was grateful Carole had you around because he saw that she was an amazing mother. Of course, he wanted more time with you, but I can say for certain that he never, ever regretted having you.”

Bradley hated the sudden burn of tears that pressed against the back of his eyes and he focused his attention outside again where dark, heavy clouds were rolling in on the horizon. Huh, maybe a storm was coming in.

“Bradley,” Maverick got his attention again. “Any kid would be lucky to have you as a dad. You can’t let the past keep holding you back from your future. You’ll never give yourself a chance to live.”

“But what if I die and leave this kid and her behind?”

“And what if you don’t? Are you really just going to up and leave this kid? The mom? Carole Bradshaw didn’t raise you to be like this.”

That sent a shockwave of realization across his spine. Holy shit. His mom would kill him if she could see him right now. His mom who sacrificed so much and tried to keep a smile on her face even when she was in her deepest pits of grief. His mom who would have absolutely adored you and would have teased Jake endlessly.

“Thanks, Mav. I gotta go.”

“Hey, listen. You should come by my place sometime soon. We still need to have that talk, I recall. Bring your girl along, I’d love to meet her.”

Bradley grinned. “Yeah, that would be great.”

He hung up and tossed a twenty onto the table before he jogged out into the humid air outside. Shit, yeah, it really was about to storm. Even with busted ribs and his body feeling like it got hit by a freight train, he could probably outrun the storm.

Probably.

San Diego rarely got thunderstorms, but it was fitting that the silence in Jake’s apartment was shattered with a low rumble of thunder off in the distance. The sun was obscured by the thick clouds that swallowed the sky and you pushed off the bed you were curled up on. Hopefully, Jake would be in his room or napping on the couch or not paying attention to the fact that you were creeping out to stand on the porch and watch the storm roll in.

The moment you settled yourself on his cement porch, a blanket draped over your shoulders and you sighed. Of course he heard you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured once he sat next to you. Jake pulled the other edge of the blanket around his own shoulder, sealing the heat between the two of you. Lightning flashed across the sky and you tensed minutely, relaxing when you remembered the warm, steady form next to you.

“There’s no excuse for what I said, I was angry and I took it out on you and I’m sorry,” you added. He still said nothing and you took that as a moment to glance over at him. He was studying the clouds with the same cool indifference he looked at the pool table at the Hard Deck. You were about to beg him to say something when he began to speak.

“After my mom had Liz, she realized she couldn’t keep having kids if she wanted to run from my dad sooner than later. When she got pregnant again, she was able to make an appointment at the local clinic. She was only gone a few hours while the neighbor watched us, but when she came back, she seemed…I don’t know. She was sad but also there was this weight off of her shoulders. She had the chance to protect herself and protect us and save any future kid from that bastard.”

He spoke about his father with such venom that you had to reach out and cup his cheek, your thumb brushing along his hairline. Jake inhaled against your touch and then turned to face you, his bright eyes clouded by memories.

“Whatever you choose, I’ll be there. I’ll drive you to the clinic and take care of you afterwards. If you keep this kid, I’m all in. I never considered being a father before and I’m scared out of my fucking mind, but I swear to you that I would never, ever treat you or them like my father did.”

“Oh, Jake,” your voice broke at his promise. “I know you would never hurt me. I don’t think you’re even capable of hurting a fly. You’re all bark and no bite, Tex.” You bumped your shoulder against his and he leaned into you, his lips coming up to press against your temple.

“I’m terrified, but there’s this part of me that keeps saying what if? What if I keep it? What if I give this kid the best damn life? What if I have the life I always wanted but never thought I could have?”

“Whatever you need, you’ll have. Money, clothes, a house, furniture, I’ll handle it. If you want me around, I’ll be there. If you want me gone, I’ll disappear.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder and smiled against the growing tears in your eyes. Rain was starting to patter down onto the ground, filling the air with the rich smell of soil.

But above the noise of the rain came another pounding.

You raised your head just in time to see Rooster jog around the side of Hangman’s truck and stop directly in front of you two in the pouring rain. Jake sat ramrod straight, his gaze darting all over Bradley as the brunet bent over to catch his breath.

“Jesus, Bradshaw, you have cracked ribs and you ran?” Jake exclaimed.

“You have what?!” you yelped. Bradley waved both of your concerns off and then straightened up.

“My dad died when I was two,” he rushed out. “And it wrecked my mother. And I can’t let that happen to you, but Mav basically told me I’m being an idiot and he’s right. I can’t let the past continue to make my decisions. I can’t let that fear hold me back.”

You stared at him, wide eyed, as you took in his words. You pushed the blanket off of your shoulders and stood. The cool rain poured down on your head, but you didn’t care. You needed to hear this straight.

“And if the baby isn’t yours?” you directed the question to both of them. “I can’t get a paternity test for five more weeks.”

“Fuck the what ifs! If anyone has questions or judgment, they can fuck off,” Bradley shouted. He raised his arms from his sides and extended them out, welcoming the incoming storm. Jake stood as well, a wild grin on his lips that made you breathless.

“I agree with the chicken for once, darlin’. Fuck ‘em. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out when we get there.”

You could feel your own smile blossom and you glanced between the two men. “So if I told you right now that I wanted to keep this baby, you would be okay with that?”

Bradley swooped in, his chilled hands enclosing around your cheeks as he laid a kiss on your lips before retracting so he could do the same to Jake. Your heart was beating quickly, not from anxiety but from exhilaration. Holy shit, the three of you were doing this.

You grabbed one of each man’s arms and tugged them further down the driveway. The rain soaked you to the bone, but you didn’t care. You threw your hands up in the air and let out a burst of laughter. Jake wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. The three of you were like little kids. You jumped into puddles, danced in the rain, and laughed harder than you had in days.

“Alright,” Jake surprisingly was the one who ended the fun. “Back inside you two. Can’t have our angel catching a cold and you need to rest, Roo.”

You rolled your eyes but acquiesced. Of course they were going to become incredibly protective. Jake wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you headed back into the apartment.

“Miss,” Bradley said with an air of elegance. He bowed as you stepped across the threshold and you snorted at his theatrics. 

“Thank you, sir.” You curtsied and accepted the towel he offered you.

“You should take a shower, angel. To warm up,” Jake said as he shut the door behind him and locked it. You considered his words for a second and took a step backwards into the apartment. Your soaking wet shirt was plastered to your skin but you tugged it off and chucked it in the direction of the laundry room.

“I’d hate for you boys to miss out on all the warm water,” you taunted. You spun on your heel and dashed off towards the bathroom with two pairs of footsteps following close behind.

As the warm water trickled down on their heads, you found yourself shielded from the brunt of the spray as the men sandwiched you between them. Jake stood at your back, his left hand splayed across your torso and his lips pressed under your ear. Bradley delicately slid the loofah across your skin, watching in awe as the suds traveled across your skin and disappeared in the water. You gently slid your fingers through Bradley’s curls and let your nails scratch across his scalp, eliciting a delicious moan from him.

You helped the soap wash out of Bradley’s hair before you grabbed his hand just as he swiped the rough fabric against your thigh. You grasped his left hand and Jake’s right, settling them both over the slight rounding of your stomach.

“That’s her?” Bradley whispered.

“How do you know it’s a she?” Jake hummed. He stroked his hand down the tiny curve of your barely-there bump. “It could be a he.”

“Angel isn’t that cursed. Three of us?” Bradley shot back. You chuckled and rested your head back on Jake’s shoulder.

“As small as a poppy seed,” you murmured. Fuck, how on earth could you care for something so small? How could you protect this little thing from the world? What about when it came out of you?

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Jake whispered into your hair. He sensed your trepidation and instantly set about soothing away your worries. “Roo and I would never let anything happen to you two.”

The brunet’s handsome face earned a fierce glare and he nodded, head jerking sharply before he moved in closer. “Promise.”

A million questions swirled around in your head and you were plagued with even more worries. But here, in this moment, supported by these two men, you felt safer than you had ever felt before.

Tag List: @mizzzpink​ @xoxabs88xox​ @dreaminglandsworld​ @khaylin27​ @loveforaugust​ @phoenixssugarbaby​ @atarmychick007​ @mak-32​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @krismdavis​ @emma8895eb​ @startrekfangirl​ @hangmandruigandmav​ @lunamoonbby​ @startrekfangirl2233​

[zahri-melitor]

Newish Comics (22 January 2025)

It’s Black Canary week, so I’ll be buying that, but it’s not on the shelves yet. Here’s everything else.

Absolute Wonder Woman #3: Stunning. Gorgeous. The reason for Diana’s tattoos becomes clear. Diana’s internal strength and kindness for others comes through so clearly in this title (the way she talks to Pegasus as she sends him away. Her explanation to the news crew of what she does and does not want them to film).

But I am a simple person, and Barbara Minerva running straight onto the page and immediately crashing in Diana for a clinch meet cute? Followed by bestowing the name Wonder Woman on Diana, referencing the Amazons? Ahhhh. That’s lesbian vibes I expect from a Wonder Woman title.

Action Comics #1081: and we wrap up the 12 weekly run. Personally I thought Waid resolved the ‘recapture everyone’ part a BIT pat, but he used the rest of the story space for the story he wanted to tell, rather than big dramatics of tracking everyone down. I am interested in the interaction of the timing of this story with JLU, because Waid’s writing both and I’m trying to work out the details of what he does have in and out of J’onn’s power set right now.

The Tamaki story felt whole and complete, in how it wrapped up. I think I want to reread this one separately when they put it out in trade, because I want to see how the web builds up and admire all the early references. I’m excited for when they get around to slotting the new Supergirl title into the lineup.

Batman: The Brave and the Bold #20: and we wrap up this title. In terms of story in this issue, the Maxine one was clearly the best. I didn’t mind the tattoo story but it hmmm needed something extra in the framing. Felt not quite polished for the point they wanted to make.

Overall in terms of book as a run: I’ve never really shifted from my initial impression, which was that it was caught in a difficult tension between being a book with Batman in the title and how much of a wider anthology it wanted to be. The biggest stumble was, for me as a reader, the concentration of how often the Bat stories in an issue were led by Bruce or exclusively focused on him, with the rest of the stories in the issue being wider picks, leaving the Batfam cast high and dry, rather than giving characters without ongoings some space for a story. They managed to shift out from that to a degree by the end of the run, but the title opening with a 5 issue, 22 page per issue Batman-and-Joker flashback story really did set the tone. It gave the same ‘this should have been a mini’ vibes that Cheer and The Long Con had in Urban Legends, but for even less payoff – it’s not like selling a Batman-focused mini is hard, whereas I can see why minis about Jason Todd and COLE CASH got absorbed into a new anthology book that started in the Covid cuts and retool.

I think the best story it had overall was Pygmalion, and as cute as that was, it wasn’t nearly as essential as some of the Urban Legends stories were (Cheer, Sum of Our Parts/A Carol of Bats, and the various Duke Batman and the Outsiders stories take it to the cleaners just for starters). The other thing I am glad it did have was a concentrated Nightwing and Deadman story, which is such an obvious angle to exploit but rarely gets done. Unfortunately for me it was written by Tim Seeley, but I know a bunch of people like Seeley’s writing more than I do, so I’m sure they had a good time. I appreciated the Black and White shorts; this was a good spot to pop them in.  

I also averaged about one story per issue that I was actually hanging out to read, meaning that I spent the entire run asking myself if I should drop it next issue, and if I had been buying it I would have pretty rapidly.

Finally this is probably a me problem, but I found Simone Di Meo’s covers made it incredibly hard to tell issues apart at a glance. His art style does not translate into visually distinct covers.

Detective Comics #1092: you know what? It’s been ages since Bruce actually had a proper short term girlfriend to date in a title, between all the Bruce/Selina and the Bruce & Talia Being Very Divorced arguments. I’m actually scrambling to think of examples since Julie Madison in n52. I think he took Deb Donovan’s daughter Caroline out for dinner before Caro tragically carked it?

So, good job, Tom Taylor. You’re simultaneously setting up a convenient excuse to point to over Bruce’s aging slowing AND we’ve got Bruce dating a civilian.

(Now all we need is the Azrael link in this plot to get followed up on)

The Flash #16: the dog (Foxy) is Dawn Summers ahahahahahaha. Perfect. I’ve already gleefully yelled about what the title is doing about Skartaris, but it looks like it’s doing something interesting with Travis Morgan on top of how it’s specifically shaking down the various West family members’ power sets. (I also need to stop mentally referring to Wade as Jack-Jack, but it’s getting hard)

Green Arrow #19: I have to say, Ollie, since when did you suddenly decide that secret identities matter again? Your entire family haven’t seriously cared about that outside of occasional editorially mandated attempts for at LEAST 40 years at this point.

(I will however note that the modern option of the ‘cover your nose and mouth with a buff’ style of mask does actually address the hoary old joke of ‘everyone knows because of your facial hair, Ollie’. Smart call)

Justice League Unlimited #2: In terms of the Justice League as a property, it’s actually hugely compelling that we’re going for a J’onn focused plot in the opening arc, because if there’s a character for whom Justice League is THEIR primary title, it’s J’onn. A good call from Waid.

Metamorpho: The Element Man #1: oh Ewing and Lieber went REALLY old school with this and it’s pure Silver Age nostalgia. I’m not going to continue with this, but if you’re a fan of modern tribute comics to the Silver Age like Superman’s Pal Jimmy Olsen, it might be worth trying.

The Warlord #82: this week we are again barely in Skartaris - we catch up with Tara for Tara to miss Travis for a moment - but then we’re back to the future in the 24th century, where following a nuclear attack there’s been a military dictatorship imposed on America and basically all civilians have been enslaved. Travis Morgan, being Travis, is outraged that such a thing could ever happen in the United States and foments a slave rebellion.

(The remaining population of the US is small enough that apparently the President just stands around watching slaves work. There might be all of 300 people or so in America)