#‘what kind of self respecting grown man take a ten year old girl to crime scenes’

[eolian-234]

Whumptober 2020

Previous alternate prompt three: Comfort

Summary: When a fire burns away all their hope Peter and his daughter ask the only person he can think of for help. 

Hi all! Had the rough draft for this one for so long and finally happy I finished. This is for day fourteen of whumptober: Fire! Thanks for reading.

His Daughter

He didn’t know why the number came to mind or how after so many years he still had it memorized. The stranger’s phone dangled in front of him, their eyes flat with no room for argument, and with no other options available he typed in the ten digits without thinking. Of course, now the phone was ringing all he wanted to do was hang up.

“It’s Tony, what’s up?”



Absurd. This was how he answered his phone from an unknown number? His voice was low and even; so casual like he was greeting an old friend. His chest throbbed and he rubbed it before answering. He cringed at how he sounded like his teenage self.

“Mr.- Mr. Stark?”

The line went silent. He rubbed his chest again. The man wouldn’t remember his one-time mentee and their short-lived acquaintanceship. Unwanted memories of long afternoons in the lab, sitting side by side working on homework or ‘company bullshit’ as he would call it. Their totality was painfully short but Peter could remember ever last time Mr. Stark greeted him with a smile and drove him home with a wink to May.

All of it was cut short by the ferry incident. The taste of bitter shame was still palatable years later and then like he couldn’t catch a break the fight with Toomes happened. Peter ended in the med bay afterward. Days went by and he didn’t see anyone besides the nurses and doctors. They told him Mr. Stark came to visit but he was always asleep. In time he healed and was sent home. It hadn’t even been a week and the email arrived. He was no longer in the internship program. The program Mr. Stark made up as cover for his Spiderman activities. The program that officially didn’t exist and he was fired.

Peter spent the next weeks locked in his room. His phone stayed silent no matter how much time he stared at it. May tried to talk to him but he wouldn’t respond. He tried to call Happy and Mr. Stark too many times to count but there was no answer. There would never be an answer until now.

Life for Spiderman moved on. His web slinging and crime fighting were no match for the small deeds and neighborhoods disputes. He could handle those himself even if it lacked the spark the patrols usually had. No, it was Peter’s life that crumbled. Late at night when all the doubts began creeping in, he thought how pathetic it was he’d grown so attached to the first father figure who came into his life. It did make sense that figure was someone resistant to the role in Peter’s life.

The consequences bleed into his regular life. He began acting out. May, too kind and compassionate, was there for him through all the slamming doors, backtalk, and lying. She was called franticly when he didn’t come home and was waiting with a blanket when he came home smelling of booze. Even when he dropped out of college, the car loaded with his clothes and news of a child, May smiled and hugged him as he began crying.

She was gone now. Their apartment building was in ashes. Peter was alone.

He swallowed and almost hung up but a small hand tugged on his sleeve. He looked down to see a beautiful mess of curly hair. His daughter all bright brown eyes and smiles even given these circumstances smiled up at him.

Raya.

There wasn’t any other way. The two of them had no one else and although this was a long shot, Peter had to try, for her. He cleared his throat again and began louder.

“Mr. Stark, this is Peter Parker. I’m, ah…”



“Kid.” The man said in a breathy voice. “Peter, I could never forget you.”

Heat stirred in his chest at the lie. Hadn’t the man already forgotten him before? There was a sour taste in his mouth as accusations rested on the tip of his tongue but Raya climbed onto his lap and snuggled into his chest. With his free hand he brushed back her bangs and rubbed her back in circles to soothe her as much as him.

“Mr. Stark, I-”



“Please, it always been just Tony.” 



He was old enough now he supposed. They could be on equal ground now that he was an adult. The name was weird to say but Peter forced himself to say it.

“Alright, Tony then. I have a favor to ask. We’ve been stuck with a bit of bad luck. There was a fire…”



“Anything you need. Anything at all, Peter, I would be happy to help.”




“It’s only until we get back on our feet and I promise we’ll pay you back.”



Tony insisted there wasn’t any need for repayment. He had too much money as it was, he said, but Peter couldn’t help the nagging in the back of his mind. No matter what had happened he didn’t want to be a burden on anyone. Still, there was no use arguing for the time being. Tony was far too stubborn, that Peter remembered well, and in this case, he wasn’t in a position to repay anything so Peter gave the address of the hospital. They went to wait outside.

Raya’s legs swung back and forth on the bench beside him. She wiped a sleeve across her nose, sniffling into the material. The doctor’s said these small side effects of smoke inhalation would go away in time but he couldn’t help the worry he felt. She was still young and although there were no outward signs of trauma from the fire, he knew with time she would begin to focus on what happened. Peter held out his hand and smiled when she squeezed her fingers back.

The fingers on his watch spun on. Mr. Stark – No, Tony – had said he would have someone swing by in…now. A door closed and Peter’s throat closed up. The man did nothing in half measures back in the day and it appeared the trait was still present. He didn’t have just anyone come to pick them up. Tony himself stepped out of the car and was walking over to them.

Peter stood up and brushed down the wrinkles in his shirt. They were a stranger’s clothes and although the shirt was too long and the jacket a bit tight through the shoulders, he was thankful someone in the hospital thought about it. Tony looked much the same. Nice jeans, graphic band tee, and a blazer that was tailored perfectly.

The man hesitated at the hand Peter offered. Some expression passed over his features too quick for Peter to interpret but then his hand enveloped his and they shook.

“Tony, I can’t thank you enough for the help.”

“Nothing to thank me for Peter. It’s good to see you, kid.”

“Dad’s not a kid. I am!”

He held his breath. It wasn’t on purpose that he left the addition of his daughter out of their phone call but, well, he didn’t think Tony was a man inclined to like children. So, if the detail of Raya slipped his mind during his request for help, Peter didn’t care. All he cared about was Raya who, at the moment, was holding onto his leg from behind. She peeked around him to glare at Tony.

“It’s a nickname, sweetheart. Come say hi to Mr. Stark.” He put a hand on her shoulder and guided her around his legs so her heels were stepping on the tips of his shoes. He winced at a particularly hard step as she fidgeted.

Her head was bowed and Peter could see her twisting the sleeves of her shirt in her palms. She sniffled again. Tony’s eyes remained on her unblinking as his mouth gaped open. No wonder she was nervous. Peter was about to break the tension when Tony cleared his throat. All the emotions on his face hidden away behind a smile. He hiked up his pants by the knees and squatted down so he was Raya’s height before sticking his hand out.

“Hello there. I’m Tony Stark, an old friend of your fathers. May I ask what your name is?” 


She leaned back into Peter and he squeezed her shoulders hoping she would be polite. With caution, as if she was measuring Tony’s sincerity, she brought her hand up and his old mentor and daughter shook hands. Tony like everyone else who met Raya couldn’t help but smile at her.

“I’m Raya and I’m seven years old. Dad never mentioned you before but he does that sometimes. I love forests though. Are we staying by a forest? One of my favorite type of tree is a Quaking Aspen or Populous Trembly…”
She trailed off and scrunched up her nose. Her head fell backward trying to look at Peter.

“It’s pronounced Populus tremuloides.”


“Yeah, that!” She said and looked back to Tony for his response.

The man rocked back on his heels but stayed low. Peter couldn’t help but feel like this was important. He wanted Raya to like Tony and vice versa. It wouldn’t do to dwell on why yet, though.

“Not everyone shares your love for trees, Raya.”



“Actually, mine is the Abies Balsamea or Balsam fir. It grows around the cabin I own upstate.”



Raya glowed at his statement. He knew that anyone who respected her love of trees was alright in her book, but someone who knew them and their names. Well, Tony just earned a friend for life. She stepped off of Peter’s feet and toward the man crouching down.

“I like those too.” She said fidgeting with her sleeves again.

“Maybe you can visit one day and see them in person.”

Peter clenched his fists but nodded at the hopeful look his daughter gave him. He didn’t want to get her hopes up but he couldn’t stand for her to be upset so soon. Yes, he wanted them to like each other but he also had to keep what happened in mind. If she grew attached and Tony left again he wasn’t sure if he could take it; if they both could survive another person leaving them. He shook his head knowing he was getting ahead of himself. Raya sniffled, coughing into her hands. Peter pulled out the hand sanitizer and sprayed her hands as Tony stood up.

“Shall we go?”

Raya turned and buried her head against Peter’s thigh for a moment. Tony stretched out his legs in front of them. As soon as he was done his little girl stepped onto the curb and grabbed Tony’s hand. Peter got the bag they had from the hospital and watched from under his lashes as Raya began lecturing Tony about all the different trees they might see on the way to Tony’s cabin. The man helped her up into the car, making sure her legs could reach the step, and she curled up in the backseat like she owned the vehicle.

-

Raya fell asleep to the sound of the engine, leaving Tony and Peter alone.

There were so many things he could say that nothing came to mind. Spiteful words floated around in his skull but he wouldn’t act on them. Maybe it was best to continue the silence.

He had thought he was past the blazing red emotions, that they were left behind in his teenage years, but it turned out some remained, hibernating until such a reunion arrived. He stretched his legs out.

“A kid, huh?” Tony said without looking away from the road.  “I must be getting old.”



Peter shrugged and crossed his legs before uncrossing them again. Tony sighed but he didn’t care. He was acting like Raya did when he sent told her it was bedtime, but he didn’t care. Or maybe it was he cared too much. He startled back when he felt a hand touch his arm.

“Kid, I think we need to talk, but whatever we say I am here to help you through this, whether you want me there or not.”

Peter crossed his legs. He stared at Tony. His sunglasses didn’t hide the wrinkles around his eyes anymore and the grey hairs were much more prominent than before. Time affected them both. Peter knew he needed to let go of these lingering resentments, his fear of rejection.

He and Hannah had tried to teach Raya how to navigate her feelings and what to do with them afterward. First to identify them, if you could, and then figuring out how you wanted to act in a certain situation. Feelings were sticky and sometimes burdensome, leading you astray, but sometimes they were beautiful in their pain or elation. Whatever the feelings were, they told Raya, they were hers and were always valid.

It was time he took those lessons to heart. His heart clenched from the pressure but he began to untangle the mess of emotions he’d carried around for so many years. They would need to talk but he would be ready. Honesty began with oneself and he would try from there. Peter turned to look back at his sleeping daughter before nodding at Tony.

Thank you!

Next: There’s a Light in the Hallway 

[lady-dinah]

Children of Gotham  (Chapter 1)

A series of one shots and stories from the life of one, Grandpa Bruce Wayne. FT. The Batkids as badass parents, and a lot of 'self-help parenting' guides.

(Stems mostly from DC comics/young justice)

Find the series on Wattpad here

CH1: The Small Manor (Dick Grayson's Children) 

Summary: No matter how old you get, sometimes it just takes your children, to make you feel young again.

OR Dick Grayson spent a whole week alone, beaten, and too busy saving Bludhaven. Now all he wants is a hug from his dad, and affection from his kids to feel whole again.

Set in DC comics

No edit, we die like mne (I mean I tried, but I'm shit at editing)

"No Barbara, I already checked the cave."

They had been going on like this, back and forth, for almost ten minutes. Don't get him wrong, Dick loves Barbara, she's his anchor, the mother of his children, his partner in crime, but she can be as stubborn as Bruce (and that's saying something). Speaking of his guardian, Dick wandered around the Manor looking for any sign of life or even anything besides this eerie silence. In all honesty he's never noticed how big the mansion was, ironic as it is, the place actually felt pretty small. Back then, when everyone lived under one roof, there was constantly some commotion going on. Whether it was Tim and Damian threatening to kill one another for the 20th time of the day. Or Stephanie blasting her hip hop music, while Cass argued she wanted to play her Mozart playlist instead. Even with Bruce and Jason just grumbling at one other still filled up the bleak noise of the manor.

Now everyone had grown up, moved on. Only Bruce, Alfred, and Damian were permanent residents. Even then, Damian was mostly off world these days. Playing Batman with the Justice League. A pang of guilt gutted his stomach, he didn't want to be that kind of kid who just leaves their dad high and dry once they've moved out and made a life of their own. But these days things have been insanely hectic. Bludhaven had a mass breakout which kept Dick busy all week. The Justice League almost had another invasion on their hands, meaning both Damian, and Barbara, as Oracle, were busy running things. Wayne Enterprises stocks were dropping due to some insider trading, so there goes Tim's time. And God knows what Jason is even doing these days, but even he was clearly occupied since he hadn't called or even texted for the past week.

"Dick?" Barbara called again. "I think I found them."

A sigh of relief escaped his lips, after everything that has been going on. He couldn't handle the onset anxiety of his children possibly missing. Before Barbara and him left for their respective duties, knowing it would be all hands on deck with the situations around them. Dick dropped his kids off at the Manor, hoping Bruce could look after them. The old bat was hesitant at first, at his age caring for a baby and a rambunctious toddler was out his depth. But Dick assured him that his kids would behave, and if Bruce could handle five batkids he could handle anything. Still, he could never forget the nervousness and hesitation as his father held his baby boy for the first time. The eyes of a guardian and a protector instantly taking hold, as the old man carefully held the child like it was made out of glass. And that was the last of Dick seeing his kids and Bruce for almost a week. His heart ached when he slept alone in his bed, all the warmth gone from his wife's cuddles and his children's laughter.

But, the mission came first.

So here was, finally the escapees were back in their respective prisons, those injured taken to a hospital, and Bludhaven was back to its moderate levels of crime. Barbara was on her way back too after being cooped up in the birds of prey tower all week. At least she was in contact with Damian, and her girl group, not to mention the whole of the justice league. Dick was basically all alone for his mission. After the dust settled, he immediately headed towards the manor, desperately wanting a hug from his dad, and just to relish in his children's presence, but when he walked in, no one was home. No noise, no screams, just emptiness. He had called Barbara right after he entered, terrified that something had happened.

After all, it just takes one night...

"They're in the east wing, I think the third room on the left. The hallway with the ugly wallpaper."

Dick chuckled as he made his way up the stairs, his phone warm against his ear. "I'll have you know I chose that wallpaper."

He heard his wife scoff, could tell she was rolling her eyes. "No wonder it's shit. You're sense of style has always been awful."

"I never heard you complaining about discowling."

Barbara let out a breathy laugh. "Of course. That deep V showed all the good parts hunk wonder."

Dick knew where this was going, heat rising to his cheeks as all the tension left his shoulders. "It's been a while since we did play with my suit, hun?"

She hummed in response, making promises of midnight love when she came back. Dick grinned, knowing he would hold her to that oath, but he said his goodbyes and hung up when he finally came to the room where they were supposed to be. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the creaking door, light creeping into the dark room. Dick tensed for a second, the shadows playing tricks, making him see the monsters he's dealt with all week, but then the rumbles of snores and quiet huffs instantly put him at ease.

The room was littered with toys and drawings, crayons thrown about and stuffed animals put into a makeshift tea party. Not to mention a toy batmobile and batman thrown haphazardly on the floor. But the best sight of all was seeing the three people snuggled up on the large king size bed. His baby boy lay on top of Bruce's large chest, a pacifier slowly moving to each inhale and exhale. His plump fist held a fist-full of the old man's shirt, desperately clinging on to the old man. Then beside his father, lay his daughter, curled up and tucked into his side. Sleep lines marred across her pink cheeks as her dark hair sprayed all over Bruce's face. The elder bat had his strong arms wrapped tightly around both the children, daring anyone to try and pry them away from his grip.

Dick couldn't help the warm feeling blossoming in his chest. He quickly pulled out his phone getting ready to send pictures to Barbara, wanting to keep this memory forever. It was a miracle to see Bruce, and his kids, fall asleep. This two in one had to be a gift from God. The residing click of the camera is what jolted Bruce awake, instantly tugging the children into chest and snarling at the shadows in the room.

"Relax B, it's just me." Dick smiled, finally switching the lamp on. It took his father a second to recognize that it was just his son, not some intruder trying to take away the children he loved.

"Dick." he said, as if unable to believe he was standing before him. Dick nodded, reaching over to wrap his arms around his father's neck. The familiar smell of expensive cologne, leather, and sweat swept over him like a wave, calming him down as he unfurled from his father's hold.

"Morning B, or I guess, night."

Dick watched as his daughter began to mumble, then slowly rise out of her sleep. Rubbing her bright green eyes to take in the room. Her gaze instantly fell to Dick and all sights of grogginess vanished as a smile exploded across her features.

"Dad!" she screamed, and then leapt over Bruce and into his arms. Thank God for years worth of reflex training, because he would have dropped his daughter if he hadn't.

"Hello my princess," he chuckled, holding her tightly as his fingers made their way into her hair. "I missed you so much."

"Dada!" his son shrieked, pacifier falling from his lips and discarded onto the ground. He stumbled his way over to him, tripping over Bruce's leg. The old man gave a soft smile as he helped the boy walk over the mess of limbs. Dick scooped up his second child, nuzzling his nose into the baby's chubby cheeks as he let loose a shrill of giggles. Dick spent the next few minutes sitting and peppering his kids with kisses, his heart finally feeling whole again. He finally glanced over at Bruce who was quietly watching the exchange of affection with a soft look in his eyes. It wasn't exactly a smile per se but it was still Bruce's way of showing that he was happy.

"Get over here old man," Dick said, reaching over and wrapping his arm around the elder. Bruce stiffened at first but then melted into the embrace, Dick's kids instantly shifting to make room for their grandad.

"Dad, dad, daddy, dad, da-

"Yes Mary." Dick answered. His daughter pulled herself out of the embrace and jumping off the bed, a little too dangerously for his taste.  Barbara was going to kill him once she learned that their daughter has taken to making deadly jumps for fun, just like a certain someone he knows.

Mary gathered all the drawings that were scattered on the floor, then threw them all on top of the bed. Most of them fell on Bruce's legs.

"Grandpa Bruce and I drew all this stuff 'cause he told me that Uncle Dames likes to draw and I want to be just like Uncle Dames 'cause Uncle Dames is soooooo cool, and Uncle Dames draws really well so I wanted to draw really well so I practiced with Grandpa and then Grandpa Bruce told me I draw as good as Uncle-

"Mary, sweetheart." Dick chastised, "slow down."

His daughter inhaled almost comically, ready to speak again, but she  didn't even bother slowing down, trying to jam a week's worth of activities into one sentence. Dick just shook his head and smiled, knowing all too well where all this energy was coming from. His son began to imitate his sisters voice, squealing out his own stories even though most of it was baby talk that no one, but Mary, could ever understand.

"Wow Jimbo, really?" Dick said, pretending to converse with the baby. All it did was make the child more enthusiastic about his babbles. The young father turned to the elder, who was making his way out of the bed.

Dick put Jim on the floor beside Mary, as he rushed over to help, but Bruce just brushed him off with a wave of a hand. Slowly easing himself onto the floor, with more effort than it would usually take. Dick knew Bruce hated it, to feel useless and old. To have a weakness, to have the need to be dependant. No matter how many times Dick and many others told Bruce that it's okay to ask for some assistant, that it's not a sign of failure. All they would get in return would be angry eyes and a sneer, as the batman would attempt to stomp away but end up hobbling instead.

"Grandpa!" Mary yelled louder while Dick winced. As much as he loved his kids, they were a noisy bunch. "Are we gonna make pancakes! You promised!"

Bruce just chuckled, warm and deep. Rare too. "Of course baby, I'll race you downstairs."

Mary instantly stood up and bolted out the room, her footsteps echoing off the walls.

"Her stealth training needs some improvement," Bruce said, a little too seriously to be a joke.

Dick gave him a raised brow, picking up his son who was about to stuff a crayon into his mouth. "Please tell me you have not been training my children behind my back." he exasperated.

He just got a shrug as an answer, which really didn't ease him at all.

"Whatever, we'll talk about this later" Dick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How were they? Mary and Jim."

Bruce leaned over, Dick expected he just wanted more room to move towards the door, but instead he plucked Jim right from his hands and held the boy protectively in his arms. Then proceeded to shuffle out the door. It was probably pathetic and petty, but Dick really wanted to hold his son. Like it was unfair that Bruce got to spend a whole week with them, not to mention how happy Jim looked being in his grandpa's arms right now. So yeah, maybe he was a little bit jealous, but what Bruce didn't know wouldn't kill him.

"They were... They were good Dick." Bruce started, as Dick followed out behind the pair. "No. They were better, amazing. They made me feel... made me feel... I..."

Dick rolled his eyes, even years after being with five kids, not to mention mentoring young heroes and saving millions of lives, Bruce still had trouble expression emotion. Thankfully, Dick was here to translate.

"They make you feel alive don't they. Younger, energetic, you just constantly want to impress them, be their hero, give them the world and then some more."

Bruce stopped, dead in his tracks. He turned to look at Dick, grey eyes with years worth of experience, pain, joy, all flashing at once.

"Now you understand how I felt about all of you."

Dick stumbled, he never lost his balance. Never. But at this moment, this moment right here was all it took to make him choke. To wet his eyes. He spent a whole week getting beat up, cursed at, and all alone. But just one sentence of pure heart from a man he called father, is what broke him.

"Dada?" Jim whispered, his bottom lip jutting out, concern marking his little features. Dick wiped his eyes, leaning down to kiss his sons red hair.

"I'm fine buddy, don't worry about me."

"Grandpaaa! Daaad!" Mary shrieked. "You're taking so looooongg!"

"Are you sure she's not Canary's child?" Bruce questioned with a smirk.

Dick snorted, but then reached out and yanked Jim back from Bruce's grip. The boy screamed in excitement as Dick ran down the stairs.

"Come on old man, I'll race ya!"

Bruce smiled, but what Dick didn't see was that things had never changed. That he was still Bruce's little boy and always will be.

Hey babes, 

Hope ya’ll liked Ch1. I’ve already posted CH2 on Wattpad if ya’ll wanna check it out, but I will be posting CH2 here later on (Spoiler! CH2 is all about Jason Todd’s kids). 

Anyways hope ya’ll enjoyed!! Let me know what ya’ll think! 

- Lady Dinah 

[startyourfuturerp]

Congrats, Scoob! You’ve been accepted as Noah Puckerman. Please remember to follow everyone here, and send in your account within 24 hours!

ooc

name: scoob age: 26 (fun fact: i often have to check my own birthday to remember this bc time isn’t real) timezone: pst pronouns: he/him triggers: rfp past blogs: rfp

ic

name: noah elias “puck” puckerman

age & date of birth: twenty two, 4/18

schoolyear: sophomore

hometown: sandusky, ohio

major(s)/minor(s): physical therapy with a minor in music

backstory:

Growing up in bumfuck nowhere already made a place like Ohio feel miserable enough, but having to do it with the reputation that Eli Puckerman left behind? That made it a whole new ballpark of hell. It was definitely some kind of dirt bag record that between all the local rednecks, beatniks, and losers, there still could be a man like Eli who could bring shame to his name. He had various identities, reputations, secrets, and enemies across the C’s of Ohio which made sense for a man with the brands of womanizer, abuser, con artist, gambler, and drunk following him where ever he went. But the treatment in good ol Sandusky was always much more fierce and fresh due to simple face it was full of a town both sick of his shit yet couldn’t seem to keep their attention off of his family.

It didn’t take long for the whispers to start of Eli Puckerman having skipped town on his wife who was as equally blind sighted by a pregnancy as he claimed to be. While some rumored it wasn’t even Eli’s, the most popular comment was it didn’t matter if the patriarch came back, because that child would still wind up as another kid Eli Puckerman didn’t raise. So it was no shock that the day Sarah was born, Ava told a ten-year-old Puck he had became both a big brother and the man of the house. She didn’t sound happy to say it, and Puck didn’t fully know what that meant at the time, but it would be one of the first times Noah Puckerman would step up to impossible odds. Granted, that was easier said than done when it came to a kid that hadn’t even grown out of his thrift shop Power Rangers shirt (however, the day for that came pretty quick).

While Puck wanted to due justice to the titles he had been given, he couldn’t help but be plagued by thoughts of what happened. Even with Eli’s inconsistency, as a kid, Puck always was ready for the days (or late nights) his dad would come stumbling back in from a bender, and when he did, it was a good thing. Eli was his son’s hero, and Eli could attribute that bit of good, underseved karma to the fact his kid didn’t know any better, yet. Instead of being a monster, he was the guy guiding Puck into manhood: teaching him the best rolling papers to use, which beers were for the right times of days, how to talk to women in way his mother didn’t need to know about… Noah and Eli had their own world. And once the man left, so did everything that had become Puck’s foundation.

From that point forward, it became more and more clear of all the signs his dad would have left them no matter what he did. No matter if his mother got pregnant or not. He started to find the faults in the memories of his childhood like the times he noticed Ava flinch when Eli was near and wound up, his father leaving at all hours only to return without explaining anything, his parents subtly fighting with sharp words rather than volume, the times Eli would remind Puck he needed to be better, the kinds of friend’s his father had and brought home… the list had no end in sight. Eventually it got to the point where it didn’t matter if these realizations came from his own memories, his dreams, by authority figures, or just random people on the street– there was always a new level of low the respect Puck once had for Eli could go. And once Puck’s childhood was shattered by all his continual thinking, he tried to do the opposite of that in order to stop it all together: acting without thought. It was because of his acting out and seemingly general lack of caring that he earned a new title his dad never had: bad ass (number wah). Though, like everything else, that title came judgments and looks which Puck pretended to not notice, but always did.

If it wasn’t for the relentless way Puck never backed down from a dare that made him the ‘man’s man’ among his friends, it became unquestionable when he lost his virginity before any of the guys in his class. Jewish summer camp had treated him well, with Puck befriending some of the older guys that had also been forced there by their Yenta moms. Rather than let a summer go to waste, they hatched up a plan to sneak in to the theater camp across the way. It was there that Puck got his first experience with sex, and while at fourteen it was a brag to of slept with a nineteen year old, the effects were everlasting in socially good (and emotionally damaging) ways. Though, if you asked Puck himself, he’d see only the fact it was was obvious he had another talent to go along with his bad assery: teasing and pleasing. This new knowledge led to him constantly finding new conquests and succeeding in that department. It only flourished once he started a local pool cleaning business, too. The thing about being scum meant he was also the bad boy fantasy women from all ages seemed to enjoy. His life style quickly found an unsurprising alliteration of boozes, babes, bucks, and bongs– which naturally had even led to bail bonds. Or would have, if he wasn’t a minor and thus committed to juvenile detention with no bail.

They were just minor crimes, and while he would often pridefully share his story at parties, he’d never talk about in therapy. However, one thing that did come of it that no one noticed: having jail time be a new common factor between Puck and Eli made Puck all the more determined to pass his classes. As well was bully others a little less so he could focus on his own self. It was as if failing at not getting his ass locked up, it put an emphasis for Puck to accomplish at least one he knew Eli had never done: graduate. And Noah Puckerman would be damned before that became his fate, too. Unfortunately, not being the most book smart guy, or being all that great at asking for help, resulted in a struggle on doing things the old fashioned way. Thus, sometimes that meant doing shady things, but Puck already knew the real world wasn’t as cut and dry for him as it was for most. Some people got to play teacher’s pet, and other people, ones like him, got to play teachers plug (not in a weird way). See, Puck thought about things his classmates didn’t: teachers had needs too. So sometimes he’d be trading a top shelf J to a faculty member wanting to unwind at a Josh Groban concert for an A in their class. It didn’t harm anyone, and Puck knew he had to succeed somehow. He wasn’t going to disappoint his mom, sister, or himself again.

With enough motivation and method to his madness, Puck was able to get his diploma, and it was even more satisfactory on the account of he knew he had practically no one who believed he could besides his family. The next issue was that he hadn’t quiet planned for beyond that. Puck had played on his high school’s basketball and football teams, but didn’t look in to a scholarship for them. Scouts didn’t go out to Sandusky just for shits and giggles, either. However, unbeknownst to him, Ava and Sarah had managed to take samples of Puck’s music abilities and sent them to colleges around the country. When Puck heard he had an admission to Ginsberg with a full music scholarship, it wasn’t expected but it was welcomed all the same. At least, after the girls had spent forever convincing Puck to actually go and leave them, promising they would be okay. And while he had been initially hesitant going somewhere so new and unlike home, it easily was the best decision he made. You know, besides that threeway with the Dean’s twin daughters and bringing his drug business to college as a side hustle to pay for the costs his scholarship doesn’t.

samples: rfp