#fire safety plan for school

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post. At this point it looks like there’ll be 4 parts in total :)

Robin is basically seething with rage when she walks into Thatcher Tire before the start of her own shift at Family Video. After a month of Steve being happier than she had ever seen him before, he showed up on her doorstep on the verge of tears last night. She had to listen to him talk about Eddie until well after midnight. About Eddie, who had apparently only been “fucking around” with him for the past month, while Steve was falling head-over-heels for him.

Robin liked Eddie, of course she did. But one part of her had not even been surprised about this turn of events. It was the part of her that had never fully trusted Eddie – the part she had tried her very best to shut up because she didn't want to believe in the possibility of it being right.

It was the part of her that had been warning her that something about Eddie and Steve seemed off right from the beginning: how Steve was falling, with complete faith and no safety net, while Eddie was... Well, it wasn't like he was actively mean or cruel in any way. It wasn't like he seemed to be using Steve or like he wasn't really into him. None of that. But there had always been this something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Now she finally knows what it was.

She has dozens of questions ready to fire at him. Did he ever even notice how fragile Steve really is, underneath those leftover pieces from his high school days? How lonely he is? Does he even know how badly that boy wants to be loved? Does he know how much it broke Robin's heart when she couldn't give that love to Steve in the way he wanted her to? Will it break Eddie's heart, too, when he realizes what he has done to Steve? Or did he already know, all this time? Has he just been playing some cruel game for a whole fucking month?

So she barges into the garage and marches purposefully towards the backroom with her battle baret all dusted off for the occasion, ready to tell Eddie exactly what she thinks of him. But she stops in her tracks when she hears Eddie's voice emerge from the room, sounding like he's already caught up in some kind of heated conversation himself.

'Right?! I mean, can you believe this shit?! He just shows up with goddamn flowers like we're – like we're actually together or some shit!'

It's silent for a while and it takes Robin a few seconds to realize that he must be on the phone.

'He's hot, okay?' Eddie continues, in a voice that could best be described as distressed. 'And the kids like him, he's cute, there was no reason not to say yes when he asked me out. But it was never supposed to – we were just supposed to have some fun and leave it at that.' He actually sounds like he's on the verge of tears by now.

'Because this was never the fucking plan!' he answers a question asked from the other end of the line. 'If he's gonna continue like this, all sweet and caring and giving me flowers and shit... I'm gonna fall in love with him, Jeff, I'm serious! I don't even know why he's doing this – he probably just wants to know that he can, you know. Give his ego a little boost and laugh at me when he finds out it's actually working. It's cruel, it's really fucking cruel.'

There's another beat of silence.

'You're a lifesaver,' Eddie then says. 'And bring that one ice cream, you know the one, with the pecan and the – exactly! And maybe some of your mom's chocolate pie if she still has – thank you, my hero. Oh, and don't forget to say hi to your mom from me.'

While Eddie hangs the phone back on the hook, Robin takes her final step around the corner.

'Is that really what you think of him?'

Eddie jumps up when he sees Robin standing in the doorway, her arms crossed in front of her chest and one of her most scathing looks on her face.

'What the hell, Buck? Were you eavesdropping on my phone call?'

'You really think he's the cruel one?' she repeats, ignoring his indignant question. 'Then why did he show up at my door yesterday night looking like a heap of misery and telling me how his boyfriend turned out to only have been his hookup all this time?'

'Look, Buckley, I – wait, what?'

'What?'

'His what now?'

And the utterly confused look on his face tells her more than enough. He didn't know, she realizes. He truly didn't know what Steve felt for him.

'You fucking dummy!'

'I – what did you just call me?'

'A dummy.' Okay, it's not exactly the best insult she ever came up with, but she has no choice but to double down on it now.

'No, earlier, you – you said – his boyfriend,' Eddie stutters out.

Robin merely shoots him an unimpressed glance.

'Steve thought we were boyfriends?!' he exclaims in a shrill voice. He looks at her like she just dropped some news about Vecna returning to Hawkins.

'Do you really have to look that disgusted about it?'

'No, I wasn't – Are you playing some kind of twisted prank on me here?'

'Do I look like this is a prank?'

He narrows his eyes at her. 'But... Why the hell would he want us to be boyfriends?'

'Because he liked you, you idiot!' she yells at him. 'Because he asked you out and you said yes and you were nice to him! Because he basically had those obnoxious little pink hearts floating around his head whenever you were together! Because you treated him with more kindness and respect than any girl he's ever dated before – well, until he wanted to celebrate your anniversary and you basically told him to fuck off when he wanted to take care of you while you were sick! Which you clearly aren't, by the way!'

'Don't be ridiculous here,' Eddie shoots back at her. 'Why would he ever want me to be his boyfriend?'

'Because – are you even listening to me?! Because he's in love with you!'

'Come on, Robin, you can't actually believe that,' he says, a tensed chuckle coloring the end of the sentence. 'He's Steve Harrington.' And he says that name in such a snide tone that it makes Robin flinch on her best friend's behalf.

'I mean, sure, he's fallen from his throne and all that,' he continues, 'but no one really changes that much. He was a dick! Don't you remember how he treated your band friends? Don't you remember how completely invisible you were to him? Don't you remember the names he called people like us? All the people he'd knock down to lift himself up?'

She doesn't avert her gaze, but only lifts her chin.

'You don't need to remind me,' she tells Eddie, trying her very best to sound as calm as possible. 'I remember. But I also remember how he snuck the most nerdy kids I ever met into the back of our ice cream store to let them watch movies for free. And I remember how he stuffed them with free ice cream when nobody was watching. I remember how he spent hours giving Dustin advice about his girlfriend – the advice was terrible, frankly, but that's not the point, it was well-meant.' No, stop, don't get distracted, she sternly tells herself, steering back to the topic at hand.

'I remember how he did everything in his power to get Dustin and Erica to safety when we all got caught in a goddamn nightmare. I remember how he almost died taking a bunch of punches for me.' She takes a quick breath before she goes on. 'I remember how he broke down in my arms because he felt so guilty about the person he used to be, the people he hurt when he was this asshole teenage boy doing asshole teenage boy shit. I remember how dumb he felt when he didn't get into any colleges again, I remember how scared he was when he figured out he liked boys, I remember how you were the one who made him finally feel some self-worth again when you guys started dating... And you know what else I remember? How you broke his heart yesterday. So you don't have to tell me what a dick he is, Eddie Munson. If you need to point fingers and call someone a dick so bad, don't you dare come for Steve. You better look in the mirror for that.'

Pt3 is here!

(Edit: it's actually 5 parts now. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here)

The amount of people asking to be tagged has frankly been unreal, woah! It honestly means so fucking much to me that you care enough about this silly lil story to ask for a tag 🥹 Seriously, thank you so much, and I hope you liked this part / the way the story is unfolding. I’d love to hear what y’all think <3

Taglist: @pluto-pepsi @i-less-than-three-you @estrellami-1 @epiclazershark @angelscoops @missmagillicuddy @fxndom-hoe @chaoticvictorianspirit @itsali-taken @merricatty @its-a-me-a-morgan @lilacrobin @adaydreamaway08 @starman-jpg @irethsune @starry-eyedlune @littlemsterious @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @lostonceandneverfound @a-gae-af-racoon @heartstarstar-blog @ignoretenderness @thehorrorandme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @vampireinthesun @ntwolf69 @thatonebadideapanda @jackiemonroe5512 @tinynebula @obliosworld @sleepy-time @daydreaming-mood @aizawa-emma @leethegay @irregular-child @just-a-tiny-void @evix-syne666

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[undreaming-fanfiction]

Written for @steddieangstyaugust day 13: "Please, stay." I'm slowly continuing.

It was 1986, the world was ending, monsters were real, and Eddie Munson decided he'd stop running.

An improvement, right? Good for him.

Well, no. Not really. Because the not running thing was supposed to be one time only, the last hurrah before disappearing into stomachs of otherworldly bats. And that hadn't worked.

So Eddie Munson lived and had to come to terms with the uncomfortable truth that to truly change, he had to be consistent. One time was good, but his life hadn't ended, and that meant to keep working on himself.

But Eddie was tired, he was hurt, and worst of all, he was weak. He couldn't do the camraderie thing the kids and Harrington's group had going on. Good for them, he thought. They found safety in numbers. But Eddie, even though he had friends, had been taught early in his life that relying on other people was just asking for pain.

His plan was simple. Finish high school by any means necessary, pack whatever little he had, and leave for greener pastures. No attachments, not drawbacks. Wayne supported his decision, seeing how he was treated, and others didn't know he wanted to start elsewhere yet. But then came the massive fucking hiccup that threw his plan into a dumpster and then set it on fire.

Because see, Steve Harrrington turned out to be a good guy. He made Eddie laugh even when the rest of the world was dark, he protected Eddie against anyone and everyone...and he cared for Eddie. Which, okay, maybe Dustin did too, and Wayne was a miracle who didn't deserve to have his life ruined by Eddie's presence, but Harrington had no obligation, no shared hobby, he just appeared in Eddie's doorway one day and said "you look like you could use a friend." And when Eddie tried to keep his plan in motion, pushing Steve away, he looked so sad, Eddie couldn't keep it up.

It was always Steve asking him.

"Please, stay," as they fought and Eddie was about to slam the door shut and drive to Wayne's.

"Please, stay," as he got off another scathing call with his parents.

"Please, stay," as Eddie accidentally blurted out his secret, and he wondered if Steve would hate him now.

"Please, stay," as Steve interrupted Eddie's hookup with a rented movie, Eddie's favorite candies and a confession on his tongue.

Eddie didn't stop being a runner just because he said so. It was because Steve believed in him. Because he loved him. But some days it wasn't enough.

They fought again about staying in Hawkins, and Eddie had enough. He was targeted again, Wayne's trailer too, and Steve wasn't able or willing to leave the worst town in America with him. He felt trapped, needed to run, and Steve wouldn't, not yet.

And Eddie told him. He said that he only stayed because of Steve, but that if he wasn't insistent on ruining both of their lives by putting down roots in the very place that mingled with actual hell, he'd have been out of there months ago.

Steve went silent. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that told Eddie how much he'd fucked up.

It would be okay. Steve would get over it. He'd ask Eddie to stay for a little longer and Eddie would say yes.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, Steve wiped his eyes, and said: "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was being so selfish. It's okay, you can go."

Eddie never knew freedom could taste so bitter.

[escelia]

DP x DC PROMPT/FIC

Gotham Portal

(If you get the notif for this post like 2 days ago, no you didn't! I wasn't done yet! You were imagining things!)

Where the story takes place in Gotham instead of Amity Park, the Fentons having moved before the construction and testing of the Ghost portal due to the high saturation of ectoplasm in Gotham. So, Danny's accident ALSO happens in Gotham, except he has no support system at all.

Enter the Bats stage left!

Danny couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. His parents had uprooted their whole life to move to Gotham. They said they'd need all the ambient ectoplasm there for when they built their portal. Jazz had been thrilled! After all, Arkham was a shining beacon of mentally ill people, and Jazz was like a psychology moth to a flame; it would be the perfect place for her internship after college.

His parents had wasted no time assembling the portal from their blueprints in the basement of the run-down apartment building they'd bought outright just on the edge of Crime Alley, complete with the Ops Center parked right on top. They'd gutted the place and completely redone it before they moved in. (Danny had no idea when they accomplished that. Maybe they'd been planning it for a while and only thought to tell their children two weeks before moving day.) He was genuinely surprised the local vigilantes hadn't stopped by yet to ask questions.

But anyway, back to how he was royally screwed! He'd just wanted a cool picture for Sam and Tucker now that he'd moved away. His parents weren't home (they'd gone back to the hardware store after their last test), Jazz had stayed after school to try and butter up her new teachers by running a study group, and he'd been alone. He'd even followed all the safety precautions his parents had told him about! He'd put on the hazmat suit and tried not to touch anything. But he'd tripped.

Through the whirling of green and the static buzzing in his ears, he remembered screaming, though he hadn't recognized it as his own. Every nerve in his body was on fire, and he just wanted it to stop. Stop, please stop, why won't someone save me, please!

He woke up to the smell of burning flesh, but he woke up. He was okay! Disoriented, a little disgusted by the smell and throat a little raw, but okay!

At least he'd thought so at first.

He'd begun to... change colors? And float, he floated sometimes, too. But the most irritating of all was that he would go through things. Forks and glasses slipping, quite literally, right through his fingers.

He hadn't told his parents. He'd been fine, after all. A little shaken up, but they'd been so excited he'd gotten the portal to work, who was he to put a damper on the mood when he was fine?

That brought him to now, staring at the mirror in the school bathroom in horror. He'd fought his first real ghost that morning around breakfast. He'd kept it together fairly well, in his opinion. Got through three whole classes before making an excuse to the teacher, slipping off into the blessedly empty restroom.

He'd been getting better and better at controlling his form, and he transformed in front of the mirror, taking stock of his appearance.

Odd colored hair: check.

Bright glowing eyes: check.

Floaty hair: check.

Could walk through walls, disappear, and fly: check.

He raised his finger to his pulse point and felt... nothing.

"I died," he whispered to himself in shock. "I... died," he repeated, this time in despair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian Wayne was not usually one to keep tabs on his classmates. They weren't his friends, therefore he saw no point. However, the new kid, Daniel Fenton, had begun to act strange.

When Daniel Fenton enrolled in Gotham Academy it hadn't been anything special. He'd started the year a little last due to his family moving, but families moved for all sorts of reasons. He hadn't tried to immediately make friends with Damian like so many others had, much to his relief. But he hadn't tried to make friends with anyone else, either. Maybe he liked to be alone? It really wasn't his business.

But then the boy started getting skittish and clumsy. Clumsier than he had been when he started school. He'd developed a miniscule tremor in his left hand, so he'd probably sustained an injury. He began dropping things in Chemistry. So often, in fact, that he'd been banned from doing practical labs and was instead assigned extra book work.

If Damian had been anyone else, if he hadn't been raised by assassins or had his night work as Robin, he wouldn't have noticed. He wouldn't have followed Fenton to the bathroom under the guise of needing to see the school nurse for a headache. Perhaps if he were anyone else, Fenton might have noticed him following.

There was an alarming flash of light as Damian peered carefully around the corner. Fenton had changed forms. Something had happened to him.

"I died," he heard him say. Damian thought he was being dramatic until he watched him raise his fingers to his pulse point. His glowing eyes dilated in panic, and he repeated himself. He watched as his classmate, looking fragile and lost, curled in on himself floating in the air, and sobbed.

Damian didn't confront him that day. He watched, waited, and researched. He found the research of Dr's Fenton on ghosts and ectoplasm, most of which he was skeptical of up until actual ghosts started to torment them during patrols.

Ghosts were real, it appeared.

He also concluded that their findings on ectoplasmic entities being non-sentient and inherently malevolent was incorrect, having met the ghost of a little girl caught up in a rouge attack that killed her and her family.

Damian watched Daniel Fenton for about a week while he ditched class in a poorly hidden effort to fight and contain the ghosts that he and his family were having such a hard time dealing with. His father was even nearly considering contacting John Constantine, which was never his ideal solution. Damian had been rolling an idea around in his head for a while and he decided now would be the time to bring it up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner at the manor was more of a full table than Damian had expected. Not everyone was there, Jason's relationship with them was still a bit strained, so he was not in attendance, and neither was Stephanie. But Duke was home, and Dick was actually there early for patrol later. Tim was there, and so was Cass, so almost everyone.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat politely. "Father, I wish to recruit a new member."

The chatter around the room came to a halt, the clatter of silverware ceasing.

"What exactly do you mean, chum?" Bruce asked carefully.

"I have a classmate I believe would be a valuable asset in light of our trouble with ghosts recently. However, he has no training or support, so I'm asking for your assistance."

"Did... demon brat make a friend?" Tim asked bewildered and a little bit terrified.

"Tt. No, I've never even spoken to him." Damian rolled his eyes. "My classmate, Daniel Fenton, transferred to Gotham Academy about a month ago and started acting strange soon after. He came to school with a tremor and a Lichtenberg figure you can just barely see starting on his left hand and traveling up his arm. I believed he'd been in an accident, and my suspicions were proven when I saw him use meta abilities to ditch class and fight a ghost in the courtyard of the school. From my observations, they are newly acquired, but he has decent instincts and an inclination toward heroism. I believe it would be safer for everyone involved if we approached him first."

"What?" Tim muttered. Dick was smiling gently at him, though, as if he were doing something he was proud of.

"Do his parents know?" Duke asked. Damian scoffed.

"I highly doubt it."

"Wait, Fenton as in the ectobiologists?" Bruce asked. The ex-assassin nodded.

"And considering their research is not reflected in our own interactions with ghosts thus far, I do not believe we should tell them."

"Not safe?" Cass signed. Her brother shook his head.

"The abilities I've observed resemble that of a ghost. He even has an alternate ghostly form."

The implication that they'd be endangering him hung heavy in the air. They'd all seen the Fentons' research. It mostly consisted of theoretical analysis and blatant biases with a long list of proposed experiments they'd run if they ever caught one. They'd all agreed that the Fenton ghost hunters were not a viable option for their ghost problem, especially after seeing how they drove, which in itself nearly put them on the Bat's rogue list.

"We've been meaning to investigate the Fentons properly anyways," Dick pointed out.

Bruce attempted to massage a headache out of his temples. The stuff his kids stumbled into, really. But Damian was right. If his classmate was a new meta with no support, it was only a matter of time before the rogues zeroed in on him, and since his family lived there, he couldn't tell the kid to leave.

"I'm not saying yes just yet, but talk to him. Find out any more that you can."

"Of course, Father."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny finally felt like he was getting the hang of his ghost powers. He was pleasantly surprised, and also mildly horrified, that his parents' inventions actually worked on the ghosts he was now beginning to fight regularly. His favorite was by far the thermos, which did no ghost mutilating whatsoever.

He discovered he had a ghost sense and enhanced hearing and vision, which was cool and all, but now he could hear all the shitty things his classmates said about him behind his back. Which, rude! He didn't even talk to them, what did they have to be shitty about?

He also noticed that one of them, Damian Wayne, had been watching him. From what Danny had heard, Damian was the richest kid in school, a Wayne. Son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, to be exact. And his attitude reflected that. His standoffish, holier than thou rich guy attitude made Dash and Paulina look like they lived below the poverty line. Apparently, he generally didn't talk to anyone at school unless it pertained to class, so Danny saw no point in introducing himself.

That made it extra weird that Damian was following him.

It was right after lunch when a hiccup had a cold breath tumbling from his lips. He raised his hand and asked his teacher if he could use the restroom. He made his way to the bathroom on the other side of the building this time, hoping it would be too out of the way for Damian to follow. But soft rustling of his classmate's school uniform gave him away, no matter how imperceptible his footsteps were.

When he entered the restroom, he made his way to the sink instead, splashing some cold water on his face as Damian walked in behind him loudly as if announcing his presence.

"I know what you've been doing," he said confidently, crossing his arms and standing in front of the door so Danny couldn't leave.

"Oh, hey! Damian, right? I'm in most of your classes, but I don't think I've ever introduced myself. I'm-"

"Daniel Fenton, I know. You've been fighting ghosts." Damian had to give him at least a little credit; he'd become a great actor over the last week. Though, that probably had a lot to do with the fact that he probably didn't feel safe at home anymore.

"My parents are ghost hunters, but I don't think shooting a ghost in the face with a lipstick laser then running for my life counts as 'fighting ghosts'."

"Tt. You are lying."

"Dude, what are-?" Danny cut himself off when his words came with another misty breath. Crap! He'd taken too long!

The ghost of the day, an ugly, mutated, bird looking thing with claws at the ends of its wings and a full set of dangerous, pointed teeth, phased through the door behind Damian, poised to strike.

Without warning, Danny grabbed Damian's wrist and whipped him out of the way, throwing himself between the two. A green shield formed in front of him just as the bird slashed at them with one of its wings.

"Well, that's new," he said startled as the bird geared up for another attack.

Danny groaned at his miserable luck before throwing caution to the wind and transforming. He'd just have to force friendship upon one Damian Wayne in an attempt to keep him from telling anyone about his whole magical girl transformation. He tried to activate his shield again, but when nothing happened, he was flung across the room into the wall. God, this was embarrassing.

The next time the ghost tried to attack him, Damian yanked him aside in a dodge and bolted out of the bathroom with Danny in tow. He was dragged through the winding halls to one of the side exits of the school. In costume or not, Damian's priority was luring the ghost away from the other students.

"Hey, so uh, you won't say anything about this," he gestured wildly to himself, "will you?"

"Tt. Of course not, but I believe you have more important concerns at the moment."

“Right!” Danny patted at the sides of his hazmat suit. “Crap, I left my thermos in my locker!” He dodged another attack and retaliated with an ectoblast, trying to keep the ghost's attention off of Damian as much as possible.

"Your lunch? Really?" Damian shouted. Dang, Danny must have been doing a decent job if Damian had the spare time and attention to be exasperated with him.

"No! It's a containment device! Besides, ghosts are basically soup anyway!"

"Distract it," Damian instructed, "I'll retrieve the device." The boy took off. Danny had to wonder how he even knew where his locker was. The ghost tried to follow him, but Danny shot another blast at it.

"Hey ugly, auditioning to be one of Gotham's Birds? Sorry, but you don't really look the part." He had no idea if the creature could even understand him, but the way it turned to him and lunged again suggested it had done the trick. This time, his shield did work!

Danny could have cried tears of joy at finally having some consistency with it. The next few minutes of the fight felt like an eternity while he dodged and shot ectoblasts at it. The creature wasn't really that strong, and it didn't seem to have super dangerous abilities like some of the other ghosts he'd fought like Skulker or Technus. It ended up being a great opportunity to practice his new shield ability, actually. But he knew the longer he took, the more danger his classmates would be in.

The bird ghost slammed into his shield with a particularly vicious strike, slamming him into the ground and creating a small crater.

"Note to self, remember intangibility," Danny groaned.

In that moment he noticed a door opening on the school building. It was Damian! He was finally back with thermos in hand! Unfortunately, the other ghost noticed too.

"Oh no you don't!" Danny yelled, latching onto one of its feet as it tried to fly toward his classmate. He dug his fingers in hard and sunk into the ground partway to anchor himself.

"Big green button by the lid then the button immediately below it!"

Damian wasted no time popping the lid open and sucking the ghost into the device, the lid closing with a quiet pop. He had to admit, though the design was questionable, it was sturdy, light, and very clearly effective. He wondered if he could get away with sneaking off with this one to have drake examine later.

"That was some incredible timing, thanks." The ghostly form of his classmate floated over to him, taking the thermos from his hand. Damian did not pout.

"We should probably get out of here before the Fenton's show up." He could already hear the screech of tires and his dad's voice over the megaphone tearing through the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Don't worry honey, we'll catch that nasty ghost boy next time," Jack Fenton comforted his wife. True to form, the Fenton's had arrived to the scene late, and most of the damage to the school yard had been from their vehicle crashing into things upon their arrival. Parents had been called and classes ended for the day, which was how one Bruce Wayne found himself at Gotham Academy trying to help the teachers talk the two down from storming and searching the school.

His son was standing off to the side with one of his classmates. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, lanky frame; Bruce could have mistaken the child for one of his own, but looking between the hulking man in front of him and the kid standing next to Damian, the resemblance was obvious. That had to be Daniel Fenton, the meta his son had told him about. Which meant he'd been the one to deal with the ghost before anyone else had gotten there. The classmate Damian had suggested they recruit for his safety.

"Danno, did you see where that spook went? When I get my hands on him, I'll rip him apart molecule by molecule for even thinking of attacking your school!" Bruce saw Daniel's breath hitch with fear.

"Sorry, no. I was coming back from the bathroom when I saw him fighting another ghost through the window. I was scared so I hid," he lied, gripping his left wrist while he spoke.

Bruce was impressed. The boy's fear was real, and he used that to his advantage to really sell the lie to his parents. His heart ached for him. He couldn't imagine seeing any of his boys looking at him like that, with such fear and distrust.

"That's okay sweetie, we'll get him next time. We're just happy you're alright. Let's get you home," his mother comforted, though Bruce knew it wasn't very comforting at all.

"Yeah, we'll teach you to use the Fenton Bazooka," well that was horrifying, "that way next time you can just blast him!" Danny wanted literally anything else.

"Actually," Damian interrupted politely. "We were assigned a project in class earlier on the history of Gotham. As Daniel is relatively new to town, I offered to assist him with the assignment. Father, would it be acceptable for him to join us for dinner?"

Bruce would have been incredibly surprised his son was inviting someone over for dinner if he didn't see exactly what he was doing. Daniel wasn't safe at home. And he clearly wasn't comfortable with the way his parents spoke of the 'ghost boy'. If his defeated expression was anything to go by, it hadn't been the first time they'd said something like that, nor would it be the last.

"What do you think, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton? We'd love if Daniel could join us for dinner."

"Please, call us Maddie and Jack. That sounds wonderful Mr..."

"Wayne. Bruce Wayne, I'm Damian's father," he introduced. If the two recognized the name, they didn't show it. It worked out rather well in his favor.

"Mr. Wayne. If its not too much trouble, that would be wonderful. It's about time he made a new friend, he's been sulking since the move. Now, we have a ghost to catch!" Maddie planted a kiss on Danny's forehead, leaning her blaster on her shoulder as her and her husband made their way back to the homemade assault vehicle parked haphazardly on the lawn of the school.

"Be sure to call us if you plan on staying the night! We'll let Jazz know she doesn't have to worry about dinner for you! We love you, have fun sweetie!"

"Are they always like that?" Damian asked after the two had pulled away. How had those two even gotten their driver's license? It was truly abysmal, he dreaded the thought of anyone getting into a vehicle with them. And then there was the speed in which they'd dumped their son into their laps, even suggesting they'd be okay with him not coming home that night.

"They mean well, but yeah," Danny replied, heaving a sad and defeated sigh. "Thank you, by the way. For inviting me over, even if you didn't mean it. They can be a bit much."

"Clearly," Damian mused back.

Bruce watched the two interact and felt pride well up in his chest. Meeting the Fenton parents just once was enough to convince him that their son needed help, maybe even their daughter too. That Damian had taken the initiative to bring this to his attention, that he had stood up for Danny and offered his home as a sanctuary for him, made him so incredibly proud as a father. He wasn't as prickly with Danny the way he was with other people, even his own siblings. That was a very good thing indeed, considering it was looking more and more likely this would end with another adoption.

Maybe Clark was right, he did have an adoption problem.

[saintsenara]

honestly is there a single competent teacher at Hogwarts? Any teacher I can think of with more than 10 lines of dialogue is a pedagogical disaster. Very shippable disasters though, for which I am grateful because your page has made me giggle all week.

maybe Sprout.

honestly, anon? no.

that school is a basket case and the older i get the more my sympathy for cornelius fudge increases. imagine getting the call where dumbledore says "heyyyyy... so, i hired what i thought was an ex-auror who was retired from the service because of serious ptsd, gave him no teacher training, let him perform illegal curses on children for fun, and then it turns out he was an escaped convict trying to resurrect the dark lord all along. lmao."

i'd have devoted myself to trying to discredit him too.

and so, for fun and profit, i think it's only fair for us to establish an official competency ranking of the teaching staff at hogwarts during the period 1991-1998... points on for having a basic grasp of the material, points off for anyone who nearly dies in your class.

1. wilhelmina grubbly-plank, care of magical creatures

genuinely, professor grubbly-plank is the only person we meet in all seven books who seems to be an uncomplicatedly good teacher. she's got a series of well-defined lesson plans which feature a mixture of guided and independent study and which work in a tangible way towards exams, she has clear authority in the classroom but is never unreasonable or cruel, she's demonstrably able to lead a practical class which involves wild animals which might behave dangerously or unpredictably without there ever being any concerns about student safety, she takes an active pastoral role [such as when she helps heal hedwig's injured wing, reassuring harry enormously], she's collegial [she shares her lessons plans with hagrid in goblet of fire, and she refuses to criticise his teaching to umbridge], and she's admired by all of her pupils except harry [who is nonetheless begrudgingly forced to admit that she's incredibly good at her job].

plus, her aesthetic is iconic.

=2. filius flitwick, charms; pomona sprout, herbology

in joint second place, we have these two.

both sprout and flitwick spend canon seeming to be pretty good at their jobs - they have interesting lesson plans which seem to balance theoretical and practical work well and which prepare their pupils properly for exams, their pupils like them and enjoy their lessons, they're both excellent at the pastoral side of their jobs [sprout's gentle encouragement of neville is really lovely], and they're adored by their colleagues.

they lose marks for lax classroom discipline. harry, ron, and hermione are constantly yapping away in both charms and herbology - with harry and ron frequently failing to understand what they're supposed to be learning because they were too busy have a chat.

=4. remus lupin, defence against the dark arts; septima vector, arithmancy

two teachers here who earn their placement on the list by having one pupil who considers them life-alteringly inspiring.

for lupin, this is dean thomas - whose constant state of readiness to throw hands to defend his honour is one of his greatest character traits. for vector, it's hermione.

obviously, they're both well-qualified, well-prepared, engaging, and [at least in lupin's case, but i can't see why it wouldn't also be the case for vector] well-regarded by their colleagues.

they don't rank higher because lupin loses marks for endangering his students by not disclosing his knowledge that the presumed-to-be-a-death-eater sirius has a means of entering hogwarts without detection [i understand why he does this from a characterisation point of view, but it's inexcusable from a safeguarding one] and because vector teaches an elective subject which is implied to only attract bright, engaged pupils - and therefore has an easier time in the classroom than someone trying to get a student like crabbe through their exams.

5. minerva mcgonagall, transfiguration

in comes minnie mac at number five.

unsurprisingly, her solid curriculum, excellent classroom discipline, high-regard among her colleagues and pupils, support of student extracurricular activities, and investment in helping her pupils pursue the careers they want all give her points.

she loses marks, however, for the fact that she is so casually disdainful of pupils who aren't instinctively good at her subject - which suggests that she doesn't know how to adapt her material so it can be understood by every student she teaches. like dumbledore, she seems to have an identifiable favouritism for brilliant students - who she seems to permit to get away with much more than students she considers average or dull - which probably doesn't endear her to anyone who doesn't get that treatment.

on her pastoral approach, though, i don't think that it matters too much that she's not particularly nurturing - even though she's a head of house. she seems to be good at responding to genuine distress and managing genuine crises with empathy, and the "pull yourself together" vibes she takes in response to more trivial dramas is because she's a presbyterian scotswoman.

6. severus snape, potions & defence against the dark arts

the one on this list that i imagine will be controversial...

because snape is a dick in the classroom - not denying that - but he's also, in terms of his pupils' exam performance, clearly the most successful teacher in the entire school. he can fill his newt-level classes despite only admitting those with outstanding grades, and he expects every pupil he teaches to pass owl-level potions and seems not to be disappointed. hermione reveals that he does teach the theory of potions and the discipline's wider application - harry and ron just don't listen - and that she thinks his lessons are interesting.

snape loses marks - obviously - for his general vibe, although i think he should be allowed some leeway for his dickhead behaviour since potions is clearly a subject in which not paying attention and not being able to follow instructions properly is dangerous [hence why i've been a trevor hater since day one].

i suppose he should also be allowed some leeway because it's a genre requirement for a school story to have a theatrically evil teacher. but he's not getting it - since he clearly enjoys the role so much.

7. horace slughorn, potions

marks on for encouraging independent thinking and for clearly being able to hold a classroom's attention. marks off for not learning the names of pupils he's indifferent to, getting his favourite pupils drunk, and for having no follow-up questions to "hello, sir. i'd like to commit some murders."

8. charity burbage, muggle studies

entirely because i think it's genuinely admirable - and, indeed, far more admirable than the fact that the order of the phoenix all happily keep working for the state following voldemort's takeover - that she publishes an article in the daily prophet, to which her real name is attached, explicitly refuting blood-supremacist rhetoric when she must know that a blood-supremacist government is about to come into power.

marks off because the fact that even wizards who've taken her class appear to know fuck all about muggle society means that she can't be particularly good at her job.

9. firenze, divination

marks on because his pupils love him, marks off because that's a tremendously low bar to clear given... trelawney.

him telling his classes that divination is a bullshit, made-up subject is iconic, though.

10. "alastor moody", defence against the dark arts

i think it's genuinely impressive that he manages to go from being imprisoned under the imperius curse for a decade straight into planning a full year's lesson plans [which his pupils love] and doesn't have a breakdown.

marks off because of literally everything else.

=11. all the miscellaneous teachers: aurora sinistra, astronomy; silvanus kettleburn, care of magical creatures; bathsheba babbling, ancient runes

they seem fine.

14. rolanda hooch, flying

full respect to her for managing to wangle a full-time salary out of an annual workload made up of teaching one lesson [badly] and refereeing six quidditch matches.

15. quirinus quirrell, defence against the dark arts

all the proof those of us who hate professor riddle stories need that voldemort would have been a dogshit teacher, if he can't even get his meat-puppet to inspire a room full of eager eleven-year-olds in a subject which is about the coolest ways possible to kill people.

=16. cuthbert binns, history of magic; sybill trelawney, divination

they're terrible, obviously, but the fact that they remain in their jobs despite being so clearly incompetent is entirely dumbledore's fault. are you not giving the staff performance reviews, albus? come on now.

18. dolores umbridge, defence against the dark arts

umbridge deserves to be in prison, but she did at least bother to plan out a curriculum.

=19. gilderoy lockhart, defence against the dark arts; rubeus hagrid, care of magical creatures

both victims of dumbledore's "lol this will be so funny" era of hiring practices. both deservedly regarded as completely fucking incompetent by all but one defiant brownnoser. both possessing jazzy taste in textbooks.

21. amycus carrow, defence against the dark arts

he beats his sister simply because his pupils do appear to know how to perform the unforgivable curses correctly.

22. alecto carrow, muggle studies

literally nothing positive can be said.

[incorrectbatfam]

The batfam as teacher comment section in report card.

Dick: Mr. Grayson brings a contagious energy to the class and his enthusiasm is well-appreciated. However, he tends to channel that energy very physically and while that may benefit his learning, it's a disruption to other students. This is a frequently recurring issue that I would like to discuss with a parent or guardian.

Translation – Is this kid ADHD because he won't sit the FUCK down

Jason: Mr. Todd has displayed remarkable attention to detail and a love of literature that I can only attribute to positive reinforcement at home, and he's always a pleasure to have in class. As much as I appreciate seeing him apply his lessons outside of school hours, I believe there are more productive avenues of discussing Shakespearean playwriting with his peers than what he has been reportedly doing. 

Translation – Stop biting your thumb at people

Tim: Mr. Drake continues to exceed expectations in his schoolwork, but his attendance and participation may become a detriment to his overall grades if unaddressed. I have caught him sleeping in class on multiple occasions but he has yet to provide me a reason why he is so tired. Additionally, last month one of our monitors caught him loitering in the bathroom with a note that I did not recall writing. 

Translation – Get some sleep and also you can't make your own hall passes

Damian: I have had the privilege of teaching the Wayne family through my decades at this institution and I believe that Damian takes after his father the most in more ways than expected. His grades are stellar and he is well-organized, but I'm noticing familiar and concerning traits in his attitude and social interactions. I am requesting a meeting with his parent to understand the full context so I can devise a plan for out how to best support him. 

Translation – Forget falling, the apple is still on the damn tree

Duke: Mr. Thomas has been a pleasure to have in my chemistry lab and is always willing to help classmates who are struggling. However, after last week's minor combustion reaction mishap, I think it would be worthwhile to review the lab safety packet that all students received at the beginning of the year. 

Translation – How did you set water on fire

Cullen: Mr. Row displays a passion for transformative literature and demonstrates a clear understanding of modern media culture that has helped him synthesize a lot of our complex readings. However, I'm concerned about his laptop being a distraction, especially with numerous incidences of him looking at non-academic material.  

Translation – Quit reading fanfics in class

Stephanie: You should be pleased to know that Miss Brown consistently keeps the well-being of her peers in mind. This semester, she launched a meal initiative for students whose needs could not be met by the school cafeteria. While we value her good intentions, she has been causing hallway obstructions and there are some regulatory concerns that we need to discuss. 

Translation – She sold pancakes in the halls without a permit

Cassandra: Although Miss Cain is relatively quiet in class, she continues to blow me away with her breadth of knowledge not just on class materials, but also interpersonal details. While this is a good skill to cultivate, we ask that she dial it back especially with our faculty. Additionally, please remember that the teacher's lounge is a staff-only space and students should remain in the common areas. 

Translation – She knows too much

Barbara: Miss Gordon is easily one of the best AP Computer Science students I've seen in my twenty years of teaching. She even went above and beyond the scope of our class to apply what we've learned to a greater school context. While that is deserving of credit, I'd also like to remind her that, in the future, certain ideas should be subjected to careful consideration before actions are taken. 

Translation – She hacked the lunch menu to make every day French Fry Friday 

Harper: Miss Row has a remarkable aptitude for the engineering process that exceeds beyond what students her age can typically grasp, and she is very inventive in her own right. That being said, I would appreciate it if she followed our lesson plans more closely and reviewed our guidelines for woodshop safety so everyone can continue to have a positive experience.

Translation – She made a working crossbow out of popsicle sticks

Carrie: Miss Kelley is a bright student who brings positive energy that is very much needed, especially in morning classes. However, she's been falling behind with several missing assignments at this point, and her explanations for why she cannot finish her work don't seem to be sufficient. 

Translation – "Killer Croc ate my homework" Yeah and I'm Batman

Kate: Miss Kane seems to be very eager to move forward to the next stage of her life, as evidenced by her Career Day presentation. While I believe young people should be free to explore their passions, I also think that Kate would benefit from some workshops outlining more feasible options. 

Translation – "Get bitches" isn't a career goal

Alfred: Mr. Pennyworth is easily one of the best students this institution has seen, both in his academic record and extracurricular activities. He recently expressed interest in the sharpshooting team, which I will not discourage him from, seeing how highly accurate he is. As of this year, I will be retiring as the coach for the team, but I wish him all the best.

Translation – I'm not about to get on his bad side

Selina: Miss Kyle's resourcefulness continues to astound me. Earlier in the semester, she forgot her locker combination and quickly improvised a mechanism to safely unlock it using only the materials around her. The speed and accuracy with which she did that will surely benefit her in the future. 

Translation – Did... did she just pick a lock with another lock?

Bruce: No further comments. 

Translation – whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hihi!! i wanted to know your opinion on what the students at nrc do for meals beside lunch. we see lunch be served in the cafeteria, but i don't recal breakfast and dinner being served to the students at all.

in epel's ceremonial robes vignette, we see the students eating their food at a dining table as part of the welcoming party. do you think that's a regular thing? them just having their meals at a dining table. the same could be said for heartslaybul with the table they use for unbirthday parties. does each dorm have a dining table for students? a designate are for them to eat without spilling their food? i can't imagine riddle letting his students eat in their dorm rooms.

we know each dorm has a kitchen, so its not impossible for the students to make their own meals, but what's getting stocked in the kitchen? how many times are people putting out grease fires and taking out the trash? does the housewarden get to decide what kind of food is allowed in the dorm? who is in charge of cleaning out the fridge and pantry for anything that's expired? this would also mean that the mc would only have one free meal each day, they wouldn't have the money to be buying snacks and ingredients to make food. anyways, hope you have a good day/night:D

I’m actually not sure if the food in the NRC cafeteria is entirely free? Meals may be free for public school students, but NRC is a private boarding school which, irl, often charge for meals as part of the tuition or have some kind of paid meal plan. (Exceptions are made for students with financial concerns, but generally food is paid for.) Edit: the light novel confirms that lunches at NRC are free.

At least some items have to be paid for before you’re allowed to walk out with it. For example, both Ace and Deuce have various voice lines where they promise to buy Yuu “something from the cafeteria later”. There is also a bakery that visits NRC once a month to sell sandwiches. Maybe these are just add-on items or snacks that carry their own out-of-pocket fees, but it’s still worth noting here. So the students all get a free lunch every day, with extra items being paid for.

I don’t believe we have enough information to determine one way or another how the other meals are covered, if at all. If NRC is anything like a college campus though, the cafeteria probably operates for breakfast and dinner services as well as lunch. (It, like many things, may not be mentioned because those meals are not as relevant to one’s school life.) This probably extends to weekends too, since I don’t think NRC would provide no food at all on weekends; that’d be counterproductive to academic productivity. Other options seem to be getting permission to go into the local town and eat there or to prepare food in your own dorm’s kitchen. I’m not totally sure if the groceries would be paid for by the individual students or from a predetermined pantry. We’ve seen students like Ruggie and Trey find or grow their own ingredients, but we’ve also seen situations where group meals or events (Port Fest, Halloween, birthdays, etc.) are held and would obviously have to pull money from a budget or some kind of pooled source. I’d assume that kitchen safety and cleaning is a shared responsibility by anyone who uses it; there may also be a rotating schedule for who cleans up (scrubs the tables, takes out the trash, etc.) for the week. Washing your dishes and cutlery after use and tossing out your own bad food, by contrast, feel like individual chores.

I don’t think students typically have mandated “sit down and eat a meal with your dorm” times. Firstly, NRC just doesn’t have that kind of a fuzzy, “let’s be friends” community. It would also just be difficult to coordinate a time that works for all members of the dorm, since they also have to account for times when students would be busy with homework, jobs, or club activities. Secondly, the group meals we do see, such as unbirthday parties, the Halloween dinner, and the Pomefiore welcome meal are all associated with timely events; they are not the everyday. More likely these group meals are formalities reserved for special occasions or holidays. I think students are probably free to figure out their own meals outside of the school-provided lunch in the middle of the typical academic hours. For example, we see that Floyd hoards snacks in his bedroom and Idia implies he eats in his room too, and especially while gaming. Ace has said that there’s a burger joint in the town he likes to go to. Jamil is known to prepare banquets seemingly on the regular for his dorm and the parties Kalim holds. Each dorm is also shown to have a lounge or common room area, so I’d imagine that can seat students who want a place to sit down and eat. The design of these lounges also better reflects NRC’s general attitude towards forming friendships; the tables and chairs/sofas are comparatively small or can only seat a few at the same table.

As for what gets stocked in every dorm’s kitchen, I don’t think dorm leaders would get to hand pick those items. This is mainly for pragmatic reasons, since I can easily see characters like Leona misusing the privilege to like... have all meat and no veggies on hand 😂 More likely there’s a budget they need to stick to and some essentials in every kitchen. This would then be supplemented by whatever else they produce on the dorm grounds (we’ve gone to all 7 dorms to collect various ingredients for Master Chef/Culinary Crucibles) or whatever they purchase on top of the pantry (stares at Kalim). I’d also like to point out that NRC has many locations on campus where you can grab additional ingredients, such as the Botanical Garden, an actual ranch, a windmill, the forest behind the school (where we gathered chestnuts!), the Mystery Shop, etc. Some of what’s in the pantry is probably based on ease of access, such as Octavinelle having easy access to seafood and fish. Back to the dorm leaders, I feel like they set a precedent for the rest of the dorm rather than actually strictly determining what foods are and aren’t allowed in them. For example, Vil has very strict expectations about table manners and eating healthily, while Riddle wants his dorm members to adhere to rules (inclusive of food-related ones) and Azul tries to promote a “gentleman’s club” energy at his own in-dorm eating establishment. The Mostro Lounge, however, likely runs on its own budget and acquires its own ingredients as business expenses.

Yuu is attending NRC under special circumstances, so I assume they’ve worked something out with Crowley to ensure they can be fed 3 square meals a day. It’d be pretty unfair to demand full payment from someone who has zero of this world’s money or even ID to work. That alone would probably make 5em eligible for financial support, at least when it comes to food. I don’t think Yuu would get a ton of flexibility for snacks, ingredients, and other bells and whistles; Crowley’s not running a complete charity here. He’d probably allow for the basic 3 meals plus maybe (a very strong maybe) a little bit extra for indulging every now and again on a cookie or something.

[seat-safety-switch]

How often have you been involved in cannon warfare? It's almost a cliché at this point. You and a couple of the guys from law school get a bit tooled up, steal a galleon from the dock, and set out for the open seas and a life of adventure. Trouble is, you forgot to let the Spanish navy know that you were just borrowing it. Now they're shooting four-inch chunks of red-hot steel at your dumb ass, and you suddenly remembered you don't know how to swim.

What do you do in this increasingly-common dilemma? The obvious thing to do is to fly the flag of surrender. Throw up a white sheet on the main mast and hope for leniency. Of course, this assumes that someone on board is both A) sober enough to climb, and B) brave enough to climb at the same time, which is a rare pairing of qualities in your flunky friend group. Plus, everyone knows chicks dig it when you fight back against the vicious whims of an unjust government that wants you to return their boat. Cowardice is right out.

Here's my pitch, instead. What you should have done before you pickled your liver this evening was buy Seat Safety Switch's Ship Stealing Sinsurance. For just a mere five doubloons a night (assuming you've been paying us for at least 40 nights of debauchery before any claim,) we'll negotiate with your local belligerent government for a ceasefire and a return to civility. Sure, you'll have to bring back the ship, but at least you'll do so mostly intact. And with your legal training, I'm sure you can talk your dumb ass out of the guillotine (or firing squad) afterward. No problem at all.

Are you not planning on stealing any ships? That's what they all say, but that's where the real beauty of our scheme – I mean financial instrument – comes in. If the ship you're on is stolen by pirates, then you can also claim any damages to your person and goods! Don't even think of claiming against those menacing kraken attacks, though. Squid is not covered by our basic or professional policies.

So sign up today, and take the future into your own hands, as long as you read your entire policy first. You really don't want to be trying to wage war at sea against the Dutch and find out that you only covered the longboats because you're trying to save a few bucks.

[cowgurrrl]

Little Wind

Pairing: Joel Miller x art teacher!reader

Author’s note: we are so fucking back dude

Summary: Caught out [1.6k]

“I don’t know what we need to talk about, Marnie.” You say as you walk into your apartment and throw your car keys in the dish by the door. You told her you would call her once you weren’t navigating icy roads which was partly true. You also just needed a second to prepare yourself for this conversation. “He’s a good dad. He helped out with my field trip to the McNay. I have no worries about Ellie’s safety if that’s what this is about.”

“What happened at the winter showcase?” She asks, her tone sharp. Was she there? If she was, she didn’t talk to you or make herself known. Fuck. There’s no way this can be about what you think it’s about. You’ve been careful. Going out of your way to go somewhere far away from the school and any students that might appear out of nowhere. There’ve been a few times where you’ve been a little reckless but you had it under control.

“Ellie had an anxiety attack. I sat with her and her dad in the stairwell until it passed.” You say, attempting to shrug off the cloud of worry that’s settled on your shoulders.

“And the visits to your classroom almost every week?”

“Jesus, are you spying on me?” You breathe a laugh but she doesn’t humor you. She only waits for a response. “My projector’s been broken and he’s trying to fix it for me since my work orders keep getting denied. Is there anything else I can confirm or deny for you?” You ask, glancing at your half-finished canvas as you pace. You can’t sit still. Not when she’s calling you during your break and interrogating you. She sighs and you can imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose.

“If administration finds out about this-“

“Finds out about what? My broken projector?”

“That you’re sleeping with one of your student's parents.” Your back molars buzz at her words and a wave of nausea hits you. You shake your head and take a deep breath.

“That’s not funny. You could get me fired for saying things like that.”

“Oh, c’mon, honey. This may be a big city but people talk like it’s a small town,” she says. You feel caught but you don’t want her to know that. “She’s good. She could go to State and win scholarships. But if the judges find out that you gave her any special treatment because of your relationship with her dad, not only will they fire you but you will ruin any chance she has at getting better.”

“This is ridiculous.” You say and she huffs on the other line.

“No, what’s ridiculous is the thought that you’d put your students’ well-being at risk so you can fuck around with a parent. Did you ever stop to think how Ellie might react if she finds out about this? How this might affect her?” She asks like you’re stupid. Of course, you have. It’s been the idea pressing on your brain since before the field trip.

You just never thought it’d get this far.

You think it’d break her heart if she found out. You think she’d curse and scream at you and you’d deserve it. You think she’d never want to see you again or worse, never want to make art again. The world needs Ellie’s art even if she doesn’t know it yet. And you fucked it up.

“You have until Spring Break to either break up with him or say something to Martinez.”

“Or what?”

“I will.” She says with alarming clarity.

“You know, it’s been really nice talking to you, Marnie, but I’ve gotta go do some lesson plans.” You hang up before she can respond and practically throw your phone away from you. Your head swims and you have to clutch the back of a chair to steady yourself.

What the fuck? How did she even find out? She saw you once at Whataburger months ago and now she has eyes and ears watching you? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You need to tell Joel or cut contact entirely. At this point, you don’t know which is the right option. You don’t make enough money from the bar and commissions to stop teaching. You’re only on the second step of submissions for a gallery and you haven’t even finished the paintings you want to send them. And Marnie’s right, Ellie is really good. She got second place at the showcase, which didn’t surprise you, and now she has the opportunity to get her own small exhibition if she sends in her work soon.

You can’t do this. You shouldn’t have ever done this. You shouldn’t have let him into your life. You shouldn’t have put your phone number in his phone or let him sit at your bar or fucking beg him to come over like you did barely a week ago. You should’ve kept your head down and done your lesson plans and art history lessons like the good, perfect teacher you’ll never be.

You don’t know what to do with this heavy feeling in your chest, guilt and anger, and a sense of loss swirling around your ribs until you look at the lone empty canvas lying on your kitchen table. It’s the last unpainted one you have and probably the last one you’ll be able to afford for a little bit. You were saving it for something special but you can’t wait for special anymore. You have to get this out.

Without thinking, you grab the first paints your hands touch and walk out to your balcony. There’s already no way you’re getting your deposit back so you might as well make it worth it. You haphazardly put up a cloth behind the canvas before you start taking literal handfuls of paint and throwing it. Reds, purples, lumpy, half-dried-out blacks, and green splatter across the white, ruining the last bit of pure material that you had. The cold wind whips around your face and blows dust and even kicks up a few rocks that get stuck in the wet paint. Colors sprint down to kiss the pavement and leave a strange conglomeration of colors near your back door. You’re so caught up in the sloppy, angry dispersal of paint that you almost don’t realize you’re crying until a sob escapes your throat.

For the first time in a long time, you were so happy. Just deliriously, stupidly, dangerously happy. You let yourself relax and get comfortable and open up because it felt right only to be hit with the reminder that things like that aren’t reserved for you. You’ve consistently picked everyone else over yourself because that’s what teachers are supposed to do. Maybe Henry was right. Maybe you would’ve been much better suited to being the silent muse who wants for nothing. At least then you’d be able to pay your bills.

You slump onto the frigid concrete of your balcony, your paint-soaked hands shaking in front of you, and stare at the canvas. It has a weird texture from all the dirt and debris getting flown your way and the wind has made streaks in all different directions. The colors are objectively ugly together. They swirl and drip in mysterious and formless ways. It’s gritty There’s no story being told here. There’s no shape, no dimension, nothing. Your college professors would rip this to shreds if they could see it.

But the gallery might want it.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you push yourself off the floor, scrub your freezing hands raw in the sink, wipe your tears, and send a picture of the painting to the gallery. You title the email “Something Different,” and quickly type out a message.

Hey,

Finished up some stuff today and thought you might like it. It’s something a little different. It’s called ‘Spring Break.’

You shoot out the email and turn off your phone, too anxious to watch your inbox for a response. You leave your canvas out to dry but bring in all your paint because you can’t afford to lose that much paint to the elements especially after you just finished heaping globs of it around. You don’t feel much better. You still feel the weight of Marnie’s words pressing on your lungs and the fizzing in your molars. You feel, ironically, like a girl in a painting you saw years ago.

You remember it was painted by Leighton sometime in the 1800’s. Although you can’t remember the exact historical details, you can see the painting clearly in your head. A bride and groom are stopped by a knight leaving their wedding ceremony after being showered with pink flowers. There’s a battle happening and they need the groom to join the fight. His new wife, young and dressed in white, watches the conversation and knows there’s nothing she can do. Her husband’s hand is already on his sword. He’s going to leave and die on the battlefield and she’s going to go home a widow. They’re both helpless and doomed to their obligations: him to his brothers in arms and her to her marriage.

You think you and Joel are doomed in the same way. There’s not a whole lot either of you can do to change your fate. Maybe if you had met him at a different time— maybe if the couple got married on a different day— things might have worked out for the better. You might’ve been happy. You might’ve had a minuscule chance at having something good for yourself.

But good fate never made for good art. You know this now. You feel it in your bones.

There is no other way.

[profoundbondfanfic]

Do you have any recs for Reallyyy long fics? Like 200-300k+ words? That isn't 91W... avoiding that one because I feel like it will hurt me... preferably fix-its? Oh and no a/b/o pls :) thanksss

Here are a few:

Angel's Wild by riseofthefallenone (Explicit, 389k words)

But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels. Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right? That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Bitch Better Have My Money by Duckyboos (Explicit, 256k words)

How Dean Winchester - mechanic, shitty cook, single father - became the power behind the throne in one of the biggest crime syndicates in the Midwest.

Computer Safety Verse by followthattardis (Explicit, 232k words)

On the day of his 29th birthday, Dean receives an email from his old nemesis: Michael Milton, the guy who got him kicked out of college and stole his girlfriend. The email contains encoded images with top secret CIA/NSA intelligence – and now their only copy is in Dean’s brain. Both agencies send their best operatives – Castiel Novak and Victor Henriksen respectively – to handle their accidental asset and protect the invaluable data in his head. To justify their sudden appearance in Dean’s life, they adopt covers: Victor as Dean’s new co-worker and neighbor, Cas as his new boyfriend. Needless to say, Dean’s brother and his girlfriend are thrilled to see him in a relationship they believe to be real. Clearly, there’s no way this could go wrong.

Four Letter Word For Intercourse by bendingsignpost (Explicit, 228k words)

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties. What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right? (It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)

Light me up by tricia_16 (Explicit, 218k words)

Five years after participating in a life-changing threesome with his then-girlfriend and her friend Cas, Dean's single, comfortably bisexual, and has everything he's ever wanted except for that special someone to share his life with. When tragedy strikes, he and Cas are reunited in an unexpected way, and a split-second decision entangles their lives in ways neither of them could have predicted…

Not Part of the Plan by Annie D (scaramouche) (Explicit, 337k words)

Castiel's spent most of his adult life keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. This is a deliberate choice on his part, because as a cousin of the King, he'd rather stay unimportant and forgotten. This changes abruptly when King Michael decides that he has a better use for Castiel: he is to be wed to a noble member of the neighboring Republic, as part of an agreement between their two nations. Castiel knows he has to obey, but that doesn't mean he won't rebel in what small ways he can. Unexpectedly, his actions end up having far-reaching consequences.

one million fires burning by dothraki_shieldmaiden (Explicit, 248k words)

Dean Winchester teaches three classes a day, tutors after school, and chairs the English Department for Lawrence High School. He does enough. Unfortunately, his boss doesn't feel the same and informs him that he has a new job: co-coaching the school's trivia team. His co-coach? None other than the school's golden boy, Castiel Milton. Who Dean can't stand, for various reasons, all of which are valid, thank you very much. And the fact that Dean can't stop talking about the stick up Cas's, sorry, Milton's ass? Completely irrelevant.

Redux by emmbrancsxx0 (Explicit, 386k words)

Dean Winchester is dead. For decades, he, along with Castiel and Sam, has led a peaceful afterlife in heaven. He has everything he’s ever wanted: a home, his family and friends surrounding him, and a relationship with Cas—and he’s bored as hell. Until, one day, Chuck escapes heaven’s lock up and begins capturing souls to regain power. To stop him, Jack sends Dean, Cas, and Sam back to Earth. After so long away from hunting, will they be able to once again find their place in the family business?

Talk Some Sense To Me (Kenopsia) by ImYourHoneyBee (Explicit, 244k words)

Scrambling to his knees Castiel hugs back, burying his face in Dean’s neck, breath coming in fast little pants against his skin. Dean closes his eyes and just breathes him in, barely able to believe that this is real. At any other time in his life, closing his eyes against a threat like Death would be an inexcusable lapse in his hunter’s judgement. Right now, he doesn’t give a single fuck. Death can reap him for all he cares, he’ll die knowing Cas is going to be ok. Alive. “I will see you soon, Dean,” Death tells him, that deliberate voice of his soft enough not to intrude on the intimacy of the moment, “Raincheck on that grilled cheese.” “Thank you,” Dean croaks, propping his chin up on Cas’s shoulder, unmindful of the tears trickling down his cheeks, “Thank you.”

The Closest Thing We Have To Magic by EllenOfOz, TrenchcoatBaby (Explicit, 221k words)

Dean Winchester is a graduate student at Stanford University’s School of the Occult. A naturally-talented mage but a lazy professor and student, he figures he’ll coast through his final year the way he always has: with charisma, charm, and a natural aptitude for magic. All that changes when his thesis advisor, Dr. Castiel Novak, turns out to be the strictest and most challenging educator on-campus. Unfortunately for Dean, the uptight professor is nearly his age and infuriatingly gorgeous. But Castiel is keeping a secret, a powerful talent that’s more a curse than a blessing when he’s targeted by seditious parts of magical society. Can Dean and Cas put aside their animosity—and undeniable chemistry—long enough to instill real change in the magical community? Or will sinister plots and hidden agendas keep them apart?

To Build a Home by intothesilentland (Mature, 383k words)

Twenty-three years of head-over-heels, devastating devotion and love, love, love for the man with bright eyes and dark hair. Fourteen years of friends, best friends, of always together. One moment of rejection. Nine years of apart. Nine years of heartbreak, nine years of continents away, of not speaking, of no acknowledgement, no interaction, no closure, no peace. No happiness. Nine years of Dean’s life entering motions, going through them, constant, cold and mechanic, like clockwork. Nine years of alone. God. Nine years. A lot has changed. And yet Dean still loves Cas just the same. Even if his heart hurts all kinds of different.

Under The Midnight Sun by NorthernSparrow (Explicit, 232k words)

Dean Winchester’s been camp manager of a science research station on the Alaskan tundra for thirteen years. Dean likes his job; fixing the camp trucks, troubleshooting the generators, keeping clueless undergrads and NSF bigwigs from walking into grizzly bears or getting lost in snowstorms — it’s all in a day’s work. It keeps him pretty busy, and this year his brother Sam's visiting too, so he's even busier. So it’s really not any of Dean’s business when some weirdo antisocial ornithologist sets up a tent a few miles away, a dark-haired blue-eyed guy who’s doing a “very long-term" study on birds or wings or something, and who never, ever takes off his big lumpy backpack. But then the new guy starts dropping by camp for coffee and… well, he’s not officially part of camp; he's not Dean’s responsibility; he’s really not Dean’s problem at all, but when a strange blizzard comes sweeping in, Dean gets worried and goes to check. Thing is, Dean's spent years in the sweeping vistas of the Arctic. He knows all about the midnight sun and the northern lights, the ice caves and avalanches, the rough-and-ready Haul Road truckers and the even rougher-and-readier wild animals. But even so, what he finds is much more than he bargained for.

With Interest by everandanon (Explicit, 296k words)

Eighteen, bored, and not quite able to turn down the money, Cas agrees to an ill-advised bet, and Dean's heart isn't the only one that gets broken. Eleven years later, grieving his twin brother and struggling to take care of his niece, Cas finally returns home — only to meet Dean again and discover that the boy he left behind has grown up a lot. And now, Dean seems to have every intention of getting him back — with interest.

You can also check our >100k tag for all the longer fics we rec.

[flowersandbigteeth]

Your firefighter wolf alpha lets you sleep over

General Plot: Your house burns down, but no fear, a handsome firefighter wolf alpha is happy to let you sleep in his guest room.

Wolfman Firefighter x female Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

W: longer nsfw smut, stalking, obsessive behavior, knotting and breeding kink , baby trapping, ambiguous ending

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you watched everything you owned burn to a crisp. Had you left the stove on? A candle? You couldn’t remember, shivering in your bare feet and pajamas wondering what you were going to do next. If it wasn’t for the brand new fire alarm your friend Ruston had installed, you might not have even made it out alive. 

The local fire chief and pack alpha Ruston came jogging over, his yellow uniform hanging open revealing a firm chest of white fur. The blaze cast his huge form in sharp silhouette while the rest of the wolves in his pack fought it with hoses. His eyes were full of concern and he threw his jacket around your shoulders, pulling you over to an ambulance. 

“Come on (Y/N), let’s have the boys look atcha,” he said. 

“I’m fine!” you fussed, scared, confused, and overwhelmed. Your nerves were strung tight. Your hand clapped to your mouth and you looked up at him apologetically. If it bothered him you couldn’t read it on his canine face. 

“Indulge me, peach?” he asked in the soft, but stern voice that always made you cave, “you could have inhaled some smoke.” 

He was right and he was the expert. You needed to listen to his advice. He was always right and sometimes it drove you crazy. He was about fifteen years older than you. You’d met when he came to the elementary school you taught at to teach the kids about fire safety.

After the demonstration you had struck up a conversation and found you both liked to do charity work. Over the years you kept running into each other at the soup kitchen you volunteered at.

He volunteered there too when he could, which wasn’t as often as you because of his job, but often enough for you to get to know each other pretty well over the 8 hour shifts.  

Volunteering, his work, and pack duties kept him too busy to date, so it never really came up and you assumed he wasn’t interested. You thought he was very attractive with his white fur and golden eyes, but you didn't know much about wolves. He probably had a wolf princess somewhere he was prearranged to marry and that was about as much thought as you’d given it over the years you’d known him. 

He let the EMT’s take your vitals and breathe oxygen out of a bag until they were satisfied you didn’t need to go to the hospital. By that point reality had started to set in and tears were forming in your eyes. What were you going to do? Maybe with the cheap insurance policy you had you could afford a new house, but a new car? Clothes? Furniture? Food? Your $500 in savings was not going to cover that. 

You sat on the bumper of the ambulance just staring. You pulled Ruston’s coat tighter around you, catching a whiff of his masculine musk mixed with the slight scent of smoke. It was a small comfort and you let your mind go blank so you could bask in it for a second without any complicated thoughts. His voice pulled you out of your stupor. 

“Hey, peach, it’s going to be okay,” he said, leaning down to your eye level and brushing your cheek with a claw, “you don’t need a place to stay while you get yourself put together, I’ll take you home as soon as we’re done here.” 

You started to shake your head, but he held up his hand. 

“I won't take no for an answer, I know that face too well,” he said, “you're in shock. Don’t try to think right now, just let me take care of it. We can figure out everything tomorrow morning when you’ve had some sleep and some food.” 

You conceded that he probably knew better than you and you didn’t have another plan. Your wallet, your phone, and all your credit cards were in the burning house. 

His claws curled around you protectively as he glanced over his shoulder at the rest of his pack working dutifully to put out the fire. 

“Thank you, Ruston,” you murmured, “I don’t know what I would do without you here.” 

He pulled you into his soft furry chest and stroked your hair.

“Everything is going to be okay, (Y/N),” he assured you. 

You didn’t see how that was possible, but you just closed your eyes and let him comfort you. There was nothing else for you to do. 

–

“What do you mean I’m fired?” you gasped at your principal, holding the slip of paper she’d given you announcing your dismissal. You were wearing clothes Ruston had bought you so you could get back to work, but as soon as you came in you were called into the principal’s office. 

“There was a very serious complaint filed against you Miss (Y/N). You behaved inappropriately with a student’s parent.” 

You gasped in horror as raunchy pictures of yourself in lingerie you’d taken for some past boyfriend were spread out on the table, printed on a sheet of paper along with emails from your address trying to seduce one of your student’s parents. 

“But…but…this…it’s not true! It’s been photoshopped or something! I don’t understand!” 

Your principal raised an eyebrow. 

“That is you in the picture, right?” she asked. 

You nodded numbly. It was you. A much younger you, but the same person. 

“Then I think that says all there is to be said,” she snapped, “we don’t tolerate this kind of perverted, pornographic behavior here, Miss (Y/N), it’s an elementary school. Please vacate the premises or you will be escorted out.”  

Your mind was too muddled to say much else and you stumbled out of her office, tears streaking down your cheeks. You didn’t even bother to ask yourself why Ruston’s truck was still sitting outside of the school waiting for you. 

“What happened, peach? What’s wrong?” he asked, hopping out of the pickup and running over to you. He grabbed you by your shoulders and stuffed you into the passenger seat. 

“They fired me!” you sobbed, letting out big ugly tears. 

“They called me a pervert!” you cried.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, pulling you across the seat into his lap, “they must have gotten it wrong. Of course you aren’t a pervert. Who would say something like that?” 

You shook your head, your cheeks prickling with salt. 

“I don’t know…I don’t understand it…none of it makes any sense! They’re saying I seduced someone! I don’t even know half the words in the email she showed me!” 

According to the email, you had some very creative ways of referring to your cunt. 

“Shhh,” he purred, pushing your head into his warm chest, because he already knew what they’d accused you of.  

“Let me take ya home, peach,” he said, running his claws through your hair, “we’ll get some food in ya and a bath and everything will look a lot brighter.” 

His slight southern accent and gravelly voice went a long way to soothe you. When he said it was going to be okay, you almost believed it. You sniffled, dehydrated from crying and out of tears, clinging to him in his lap while he drove you back to his house. 

__

He unloaded you from his truck and carried you into the kitchen propping you onto a stool while he rustled through the cabinets for ingredients. He’d stocked up on foods for humans just for you. 

He pulled out a bowl and some pancake mix, and rifled through the refrigerator to pour you a glass of orange juice. 

“What am I gonna do Ruston?” you moaned, “nobody is gonna to hire me with that picture going around! I might as well leave the state!” 

He froze for a second before gathering himself and sliding around the counter to you. 

“Don’t say things like that, peach,” he cooed, holding you against him. There was something incredible about having a large fuzzy wolf hold you to his chest and your heart fluttered, despite your misery. 

“Everything is going to be just fine,” he went on, “maybe you should just lay low for a while until this whole thing blows over.” 

“Lay low?” you gasped, “what…what does that mean? Just hide somewhere?I have to eat! I can’t live in your guest room forever!” 

No, because you would live in his bedroom, he thought. 

“But you can live here for a while,” he reasoned, brushing your tears away, “just think about it. You’ve worked so hard, don’t you deserve a break? I don’t mind at all. It’d be nice to have some company for once.”  

“A- a break…?” you mumbled. 

“Sure, hon,” he said, slipping back to the other side of the counter to give you some room to think, “volunteer at the soup kitchen, work on a novel…just take some time to take care ah yourself and let me do the rest. I manage a whole pack, what’s one more?” 

You chuckled. 

“Ruston, thank you for the offer, but that’s crazy,” you said, “I can’t just live off of you. That’d be wrong of me.” 

He flipped a pancake, wondering how to work his way out of this hole. You were too independent, he would have to break you of it. 

“Well then help me out with the pack,” he said, liking the idea more and more as the seconds passed in silence. 

“Doing what?” you asked. 

He shrugged, plating a pair of pancakes for you. 

“I need lots of little errands run, things organized, there’s plenty of work to be done. You don’t have to answer now, just sleep on it and tell me what you think tomorrow.” 

Warm food went a long way towards winning you over. He slid the pancakes across the table to you, covered in butter and syrup and you could forget your sorrows for a few sweet minutes while you ate the fluffy treat. 

“Let’s getcha in the bath,” he said when you were full and had a little smile on your face. Wolves had different baths than humans. Instead of a small porcelain tub, they built large stone baths sunk into the floor with underground heating that could be kept filled and warm for a long time. His was already filled with tepid water, as if he had been preparing for this when he led you in. 

The space felt small, filled with steam and Ruston’s large body. The scent of his musk surrounded you. There was something…maybe his pheromones that smelled so good to you. You just wanted to roll in it. You brushed a few fingers absently over his hip as you slipped past him. 

He reached above you, putting you directly in line with his broad chest and his chiseled pectorals. 

“Here’s some soap,” he said, pulling down a bottle and leaning down to set it behind you. As he dipped his head, his mouth brushed yours. Maybe it was because your life was a total wreck and nothing was making any sense, but you leaned in and pressed your lips against his muzzle. 

You immediately drew back, your cheeks going red. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I- Mppf!” 

Your words were cut short by Ruston’s tongue in your mouth. He lapped at you, kissing in the way wolves did, before dropping his nose greedily down your neck to graze the skin with his teeth. How long he’d been waiting to taste you. He couldn’t stop himself. He was sure he wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t kissed him first. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

He licked his way down your body, popping the buttons of your shirt and your bra all at once with one downward swipe of his claw. His agile tongue pushed its way past the loose cups to your nipple and he gave it a long lap, before licking and nibbling it with his teeth. 

“Ah…Ruston!” you gasped, surprised by his passion. 

He hoisted you up on the small countertop in the room, stripping you of your pants. 

“Need you,” he grunted, his animal taking over. 

You could see the feral look in his eyes. Ruston was gone and his wolf wanted to rut. 

Something in you said fuck it. Everything else in your life was trash, why not have this one thing? Let the handsome wolf firefighter ravish you. You wanted it. Maybe you’d always wanted him. 

You nodded slowly, giving him your permission, and your panties went with the rest of your clothes. He dropped to his knees, his flat tongue invading your folds. 

“Sooo good,” he groaned into your pussy. He’d waited ages to taste you and it had been worth everything he had done. He wiggled his tongue into your channel eager to lick up your flavor. Your hands gripped his head, digging into the fur on either side of his ears. 

He pushed a thick finger into your pussy, bringing the incredible pressure of his tongue to your clit. Your cunt spasmed around his finger. It had been a long time since you’d had sex and the pleasant invasion blew your mind. Colors flashed in front of your eyes as you ground your hips into his face. 

“Fuck Ruston!” you squalled, “I’m gonna cum!” 

He just growled at you, but it sounded like a good sort of growl, so you let yourself go, pushed over the edge by the vibration of his tongue on your little nub.

You fell back into the cool mirror behind you and Ruston popped up, his muzzle wrinkled and his teeth bared as if he were going to attack. His long tongue ran over his lips, as he drew your juices into his mouth and he loomed over you. It was clear by the thick rod thrusting into his pants and the dark wet spot of precum there what he wanted.

You fumbled with his belt without having to ask and his deep pink cock popped out, drooling cum. He didn’t hesitate to line himself up with your slit and thrust inside. 

“Mine,” he snarled, his claws digging into the fat flesh of your ass as he lifted you up and fucked you into the wall. 

His instincts were locked in on you. He needed to rut you and knot you. He curled his body down to you, so he could tangle his much larger tongue with yours. He savored your flavor before pulling you off of him and propping you up on your knees on the counter so you were high enough for him to enter you easily.

He bent you forward until your cheek was pressed into the glass and fucked you like you were his pretty doll, his hand buried in your hair, holding your head back so he could see your face and your spine arched. 

“Yeah, sweet peach, that’s it,” he grunted, his laser focus dropping to your ass, “you can take it.” 

You weren’t sure of that, feeling his huge shaft in your stomach. He was splitting you open so wide you could only drool and moan into the glass. His cock was made for wolf pussies, you were just a tiny human. He was big enough to fuck you stupid and was just barely squeezing into you. 

He loved how his claws looked digging into the plump flesh of your rump. How he wanted to just take a bite out of it. He felt his knot swelling at base of his cock and he hurriedly jammed it in before it got too big to fit.

He could have waited…held off until your relationship was more established to knot you, but his wolf was having its way with you and it wanted to seal all of his cum inside you and breed you. 

You screamed a full bellied scream at the intrusion. It hurt a bit, but more than that it stretched you more than you thought you could go. He rocked it gently inside of you as it swelled to its full size, careful of your smaller biology, until you moaned again in pleasure. His finger slipped underneath you and stroked your clit, soothing your aches and making your pussy wetter as he worked the knot deeper into you. 

“Easy, little one,” he coached, “you can do it. Just like that.” 

Your pussy milked his cock and his wolf loved it. You had a fat ass, but your pussy was small and his wolf didn’t want to hurt you. He pulsed his thrusts in rolling waves, gently, but firmly bringing himself to release in you as he strummed your clit.

You reached back clinging to his fur with a decadent scream, as he bottomed out in you, forcing himself and his knot all the way in. The two of you came in tandem, his teeth sinking into your shoulder right as your orgasm bloomed masking the pain. 

Your fingers drifted shakily to the wound as you went limp, panicking a little when you pulled back and there was blood, but he nuzzled your hand away with his muzzle, licking the spot until it was soothed. His knot was still inside of you, locking you together, so he slid the two of you backwards into the bath to wait for it to go down.

“Wh-wh-what did you do…?” you panted, the warm water slipping around you while he continued to lick your neck. 

“I marked you,” he said, “but don’t think about it now…just relax.” 

To distract you he flicked your oversensitive clit, licking your neck, until he brought you back up to a dizzying height, so full and stretched around his knot. 

“Let go, (Y/N) he whispered,” you didn’t hear the double meaning in his words, just indulging in your orgasm as you clutched his furry body. 

Finally, you were too spent to think anymore and you let the hot bath and Ruston’s rhythmic licking ease you to sleep. 

As Ruston held you while you slept, he hoped he’d bred you. He’d replaced all of your birth control with sugar pills, so he knew you were fertile. It was only a matter of fucking you until his seed took root.

He licked the wound on your neck again that would scar and leave his bite on you, claiming you forever. The red punctures, the unique shape of his teeth, looked so perfect on your (Y/C) skin. 

When his knot went down he eased himself out of you, cleaning up your pussy a bit with his fingers before he wrapped your dead weight in a towel. He scooped up your panties as he took to his bed. After he laid you down and tucked you in he went down to his basement, unlocking a door only he had the code to. Inside, he’d built your shrine. 

He’d been stalking you for a long time. 

He could have asked you out like a normal person years ago, but he wasn’t a normal person. He needed to own you. It was something perhaps broken in his brain. 

He’d assaulted all your dates, threatening each one after they dropped you off at your front door. No one ever called you back. You chocked it up to hook up culture. He’d crept into your house when you were at the school, stealing your panties and cumming in your food. You’d seriously blamed the little things you found amiss when you returned home on a ghost you’d named “Annie”. 

He stalked your social media, had a tracker on your car, and had installed cameras all over your house that he could monitor from his phone. He’d even phished his way into your email account. Everything that seemed a little off in your life, you’d found a reason to brush away.

The fact that only he commented on your social media photos, the fact that you were always running into one another around town, and that he knew things about you he shouldn't know, like your dress size.

Maybe if you had been thinking about those things it all would have turned out differently.

He wanted you so badly he felt like he could just eat you up. His mouth watered when he thought about it. No, a normal relationship was not enough.

He needed you completely dependent on him. Completely under his control. You had to be his and his alone. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to share you with the children you taught. Only his children should get your love. 

He’d sent the emails getting you fired from your teaching job from your email account, choosing the most chaste lingerie photo he could find to attach, but the most lurid language he could think of. 

He hated to do it, but it was the easiest thing he could think of to get you fired, short of blackmailing your principal. That had been his second plan if this didn’t work, but then he would have to try and do the same thing to every other school you applied to. This way no one in a hundred miles would hire you. 

He’d started the fire in your house, knowing just how to do it as a firefighter. Hiding in the bushes, he'd watched you climb out of your window with the escape ladder he installed. He needed you helpless with nothing for his plan to work, so he'd burned it all up.

There were pictures of you on the wall of this room, locks of hair he’d cut while you were sleeping, notes you’d discarded that he liked the way your handwriting looked, and other things he’d stolen from your house. The most relevant at the moment were the panties pinned to a bulletin board marking important dates to him. 

One pair he’d stolen after he’d watched you bike all the way home from downtown, driving slowly behind you so he could watch your ass as you peddled your little legs off.

Another had been from a day he’d seen you at the soup kitchen and you’d complimented his fur. He just liked that memory so he’d stolen those panties from your laundry bin while you were at work the next day.

There were a hundred of them, stolen over the course of a few years. How you didn’t realize so many of your panties were going missing he never knew, but you always absently ordered more online to replace the ones he stole, thinking the washer was eating them. 

He had them all labeled and he neatly wrote a new label for this one on a crisp strip of paper cut specifically for this purpose. Claiming (DATE). He pinned the note and the panties to his board and stood back looking at all of the things he’d collected. 

He’d sit you down in the morning and explain to you that you belonged to him. He was sure you would accept him, because no one loved you as much as he did. No one knew you like he did. No one deserved you as much as he did and he wouldn’t let anyone else have you. 

[tubbypeddle]

Hi again!! I loved the matchup thank youu!! Now I'm wondering though if you maybe have any headcanons for what the part 5 characters (Bucci Gang and/or La Squadra 🤭) would be like with an autistic s/o 👀?

Hi again!! and how cutteeeeee <33 I'm autistic myself, so honestly i'm just projecting here how i want them to treat me teehee

(author's notes: credits to gif owners, of course <3

Without further ado, hhehehehe

Bruno Bucciarati

He doesn't always understand why you do the things you do, but he always always makes an effort to be patient.

He'll eat the food you can't, he'll listen to you ramble and ramble and show genuine interest. He's basically the perfect partner.

Sometimes, when he's out running errands and finds something related to what you're hyperfixated on, he'll get it for you if he has the cash.

When he's making food for you, he's careful to make only food that you'll enjoy eating. Many chicken nugget and mac and cheese dinners.

He's a little firmer with you than he is with the rest of the team, when it comes to you getting hurt. It's because he worries more for you than he does about everyone else. Not only are you his partner, but he feels responsible for your safety. If something happens to you, it's because of him.

Leone Abbacchio

Honestly, he might make you feel a bit bad at first, but it's not on purpose. He doesn't know what autism is, or how to handle people who have it.

But he learns to. Because he feels bad when Bucciarati tells him that he made you feel awful.

So he goes out of his way to research how autistic people feel, why they act the way they do.

Because of his (kinda outdated) research, interactions with him might feel so so scripted. He means well, though.

When you're feeling overstimulated and like every little touch could set your bones on fire, he's happy to just sit in silence with you. As a silent reassurance that he's still here for you. Or even if you want space alone, he'll let you know that his door is unlocked for you, if you want to come to him later.

You're his favorite person, he wants you to know that he's here for you.

Giorno Giovanna

He's autistic himself, even if he doesn't know it.

So he understands you a lot better than everyone else will.

He lets you talk whenever he's available for you, and he often makes time for you in his schedule too. He does a great job making you feel special to him.

Often times, the two of you will sit in relative silence, just existing in each other's presence. But sometimes, when he feels especially jittery, the two of you will infodump on each other about your special interests. He just rambles on and on about the Mafia and what he plans to do with it, and then he'll listen to you ramble about whatever it is you're interested in.

He has a bad habit of eating foods that he doesn't like the texture of, leading to him shutting down or feeling gross afterwards. Mostly because in his childhood, it's either he ate what his house had or he starved, autism be fucked.

It's something you slowly nudge him out of, with much stubbornness on his end. Internalized ableism is so fun, huh. /s

Pannacotta Fugo

He definitely already knows he's autistic himself, so he often does things for you that he himself would enjoy happening to him.

He gets you gifts for your special interests, or he'll research your special interest so he can talk about them with you.

He's very anxious all the time, scared he might hurt you or do something to hurt your feelings. You might have to reassure him very often that you're not scared of him.

His favorite thing to do with you is read together. Like a little book club with just the two of you. Or even writing little essays about things you like so you can read his thoughts and analyses on them. Or drawing with you, even if he's really bad at it. Art composition was his worst subject when he was in school, after all.

He didn't have any hyperfixations before he met you. Which was a little boring for him, even if he spent most of his time trying to survive the mafia anyway. But after meeting you, you became his favorite person. And then you become his new hyperfixation, and you're all he can think about ever.

It's very infuriating for him sometimes. (in the good way)

Narancia Ghirga

Another case of "doesn't know he's autistic".

He's the loud kind of autistic. Socially unaware, but emotionally available to everyone. It's no surprise that he feels himself drawn to you.

He'll talk if you don't want to, he'll eat everything you don't want to (even if he doesn't like it). He just really wants you to like him.

He absolutely lets you indoctrinate him into your special interests. He likes whatever you like, and more! He might accidentally talk over you, just because he's so excited to finally have someone to talk about his interests with.

He means well, though.

Absolute cuddler, all the time. So if you're not that big on physical touch, he'll find another way to cuddle you. He'll put a big body pillow between the two of you and hug that instead, just so he can still be next to you and still hold onto something like that.

Never say that Narancia doesn't have his moments.

Guido Mista

He's very open-minded most of the time, so he handles you being autistic very well.

He handles all of you little "quirks", as he calls it, very well, too. His mentality is "if you don't like it, you don't like, and if you like it, great."

So if you don't want to eat something because of texture issues, that's fine, he'll take it. You don't want to hear something because it feels like glass on your skin, he'll turn on something else.

It really is that simple to him.

He just wants for you to be happy, and if anyone gives you trouble for something that you can't help, he'll shoot them. Easy as that.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Could you do Malleus x Yuu or reader, it is in the future when they are married and have a son named (ironically) Tsunotaro. It is the celebration of either Yuus/ reader and Malleus wedding anniversary or their sons birthday. Everyone in the realm is invited/ their old school friends. Their ages normally at first due to his mothers human side and has her hair but the rest they have from their father. (Cute horns and all) Rollo (secret Yandere for them) is in attendance with his son Neige (snow in French) his mother died in childbirth and views Yuu/ reader as a mother figure since they are over at the kingdom quite a lot and play with the young prince. Leona’s son Sonbaai (sun bathe) is starting his first year at Night Raven College is in attendance reluctantly. (Doesn’t share his father’s laziness) the event is sabotaged and chaos ensues. Malleus and his family separated. Rollo set it all up, not giving up his goal from the masquerade event and offers them a place with him if they leave Malleus and their son behind. They refuse and he uses the chaos to trap the two and burn them alive. The reader is clutching Tsunotaro telling them it’s going to be okay as the fire they are trapped in worsens (maybe they are in a room or stuck) Tsunotaro and his mother are saved by either Sebek or Silver. the Queen is in severe condition, but Tsunotaro is unharmed as he is fire proof. They are helped by their Allie’s but the Queen is put into a coma for healing and Malleus wants vengeance and gathers his friends from their school days.

Jealousy Burns |  Yandere Rollo Flamm

Rollo would never hurt you

Or attempt to mortally wound you without guaranteeing your safety

Nor would he jeopardize his appearance in your eyes

Since you’ve met he’s already have the image of someone untrustworthy

But he’s grown and kept in touch with you to build something new

Slowly and quietly biding his time

“Congratulations on your…engagement.”

He’ll stifle it

Shove his anger down to fester and boil as he brews a plan

A plan that will leave you coming to him in the end

But he has to be careful

His enemy is wiser, older, and plenty protective of his spouse more than ever

But he’ll find a way

Find some easily manipulated pawns and begin an orchestra of a kingdom’s demise

It is his passion, afterall

The fire flower now cultivated into another blossom

A different color, a more volatile effect, and a more durable network of roots

He doesn’t plan them 

He has nothing to do with them

…but his followers on the otherhand…

His followers know better than to let his name even leave their lips, magicing themselves dead before they can even be tortured

So when the King and their spawn are rendered nearly comatose by the outbreak it’s easy for those nobles to push the human away

And its so easy for Rollo to open his doors and his aide…in your separate research

“I fear this new plant was a cross breed, with the one I used all those years ago….I am…so sorry.”

“Oh Rollo it’s okay. It’s not your fault!” 

Yes, it’s not his fault at all

So your guard is let down while you have his shoulder to cry on

A drop of mere suggestion as you share a spot of tea

“I’d hate to have your mind full of something so despairing….so how about I help distract you.”

[itsscromp]

Home, a place where I can go

To celebrate the reboot of my blog. I have decided to give you all the fluffiest of fluff by the best dad in gaming history. This spin-off idea (which I will call what if's) is courtesy of me and @callofdudes y'all are gonna love it !! What if Simon ran away from home and Price ended up adopting him and years later a young y/n too ?? Warnings: Mentions of abuse and potential inaccuracies (Please let me know if there are any) Word count:4.6K

Simon Riley 'Age 10' has had a hard life, He hated coming home to the endless cycle of abuse from his father, and after the latest incident, he's had enough. Forming a plan two weeks ago to leave, he began to act on it, when he came back from school, he rushed upstairs and grabbed his backpack with his clothes and such. But when he returned downstairs, look who was there to greet him...

"And where the fuck do you think your going mate !!??" Simon could smell the alcohol in his breath. "Leaving..." He said quietly.

"You wouldn't even survive 5 hours on the streets..." He then slowly walked over, If Simon didn't leave soon, he knew what would happen next, So without hesitation he bolted for the door, dodging his dad's arms and heading outside, running as fast as he could. "I'll find you soon Simon!!!!" His dad yelled. But Simon didn't care, he was now free... he was free.

He ran until he couldn't no more, crashing under a nearby bridge, it was cold but it was shaded, away from the rain. He sighed out in relief at the fact he was out and away... from him. He pulled his blanket out from his backpack and wrapped it around him to keep himself safe and warm.

The following afternoon, Simon stayed right under the bridge but he only had a jam sandwich and a couple of snacks on him, he knew that alone wasn't going to last. He watched all the cars drive by from above, making a game for himself to count the cars with the same colours. But then... He noticed one car stopping nearby. His instincts kicking back in... The car looked like his dad's car, So he quickly packed his blanket in his backpack as fast as he could before he could have the chance.

"Woah woah woah... It's ok..." But the person that got out of the car wasn't his dad... it was a young man... In a bright polo shirt. "It's ok... I'm not here to hurt you"

Simon opened his mouth, wanting to scream at him, tell him he was not going with him, not going back to him. But he remained quiet, almost utterly frozen in fear. The young man slowly moved forward with almost a kind smile.

"My name is A/n, I'm from the *adoption agency name* It's ok..." He made it to Simon, showing he wasn't a threat. But the instincts were still on fire inside Simon. No one could be trusted at this point. "Please... it's too cold and dangerous to be out here for someone your age." He offered his hand to Simon.

Simon hesitated greatly, He didn't want to go anywhere, the what-ifs clouded his mind as to think this could be a trap. But a part of his mind was screaming safety very softly, He was right. It was very cold, He didn't have any food and he'd be in danger the longer he stayed out. So slowly and hesitantly, he took A/n's hand. To which he smiled and slowly went back to the car with him, Nice and warm as Simon hopped in.

They soon arrived at the agency where A/n showed him a spare room. "Are you hungry ??" He asked Simon, to which the loud growling of his stomach gave the answer away. "I'll be right back ok ??" He smiled and went to find him some food.

Simon sat down on the bed, soft and comfortable. But his guard was still up, again what if this was a trap. He wasn't used to this amount of kindness before. A/n soon came back with a plate of fresh hot food and handed it to Simon. He ate the food as A/n sat down next to him. "Can you tell me your name ??" He asked. But Simon froze... If he told him, would he know who he is ?? He sat there for a little while trying to fight his own thoughts in his head. "It's ok... take your time" A/n gently reassured him. After a bit he finally and quietly said. "Simon"

3.5 months later

While there, Simon was still a little quiet, but he opened up a small bit, telling A/n he doesn't want to go back home, and how he's scared to go back home, telling him about some of the stuff his dad does... to him. Which immediately concerned him, So he reassured him that he would find a safe space for him when the time came... and it may have arrived.

John Price always dreamed of being a dad, To show one child all the love and affection he had in him. But military life had been straining that dream tight, So he decided to act on that dream now rather than wait, he went to multiple adoption agencies nearby, But the suitable matches weren't going anywhere in London. So he broadened his expansion to Manchester.

A/n was busy filling out some paperwork when he saw Price walk in. "Oh hello sir, How can I help you ??" He smiled at him. "Hi, I was looking into adopting if that's ok ??" He asked him.

"Oh that's wonderful, Come, have a seat" He and Price began the formal interview, Price really didn't want to get his hopes up during the whole thing. But then... "I do think we may have a child who would love your company" He smiled and passed him a file. Price opened it to reveal the file of a child named Simon Riley, As he read it, He couldn't help but feel very sad. This poor kiddo, he just wanted to wrap him in the softest blanket and make him a nice hot cocoa. "Would you like to meet him ??" A/n offered, to which Price nodded. "Of course"

The two then went to his room and A/n knocked on his door. "Simon, may I come in ??" He asked.

"Yes..." He answered.

"Just wait out here" A/n whispered to price as he entered the room. "Hey... How are you feeling ??"

"Ok" He answered bluntly.

"Simon... There's someone I'd like you to meet, He is really interested in adopting you, Isn't that exciting ??" He smiled, but Simon froze up. The fear returned to him. "N...No..." He grew scared.

"Simon, I promise I'll still be here, I'll be in the room ok ??" He gently reassured him. After a bit of convincing. Simon agreed to let Price meet him. "You can come in now" He opened the door a bit and walked back in, Price entered the room saw Simon and smiled. "Hey kiddo" He greeted. "Hi..." Simon said, not making eye contact with price. Price gently walked over and sat next to him, seeing the comic book in Simon's hand. "Bit of a batman fan are we ??" He inspected the cover, Simon nodding. He loved batman with his life.

It was a little quiet before Simon started to make very small talk, It was going smoothly for a little while but Price could see he was still very hesitant. So he asked A/n to meet him outside for a little bit. "I understand if he's a little quiet..." A/n tried to say.

"No, it's not that... Would it be ok if we just did a trial weekend ?? Help him warm up a little bit." He asked him. "Oh... yes yes, of course, Let me run it with him ok ??' He asked and Price nodded. Entering back in the room, A/n sat next to him. "Simon, Could I ask you something ??' He asked, Simon looked at him briefly and nodded slowly. "Mr price really would love to get to know you, He's asked if it's ok with you, Would you like to stay a weekend with him ??"

Simon's eyes went slightly wide, New fears ran all over his head, what if it could happen all over again... No, don't be so stupid, they wouldn't be that stupid... Would they ?? "I understand it sounds very scary, But we promise, just one weekend, If you didn't like it in the end that's ok too"

Simon thought about it for a little while, It was just one weekend and that was it. So... He decided to give it a go. After packing for a weekend, Simon followed Price back to his car and hopped in, beginning the drive. "You comfortable back there kiddo ?? It's gonna be a bit of a drive" Price looked back as Simon nodded to him. Soon beginning the drive to London.

Simon remained quiet for the entirety of the drive, Looking out the window and seeing things roll past him. Price sometimes looked back in the rearview mirror, seeing him. Hopefully, he does a good job. Soon arriving back in London, They made it back to Price's house, The two getting the much-needed stretches in. "Always a good feeling hey ??" Price smiled at him. Simon remained quiet and nodded, Following price to the door as he unlocked it.

He invited Simon inside, Slowly walking in, the first thing he saw was family photos on the wall. It made him feel slightly ill looking at them, Why couldn't he have that ?? He then spotted a TV in the living room and an arrangement of DVDs on a bookshelf. Looking through them, He noticed there were a lot of different types of movies, Back with... him, it was always very violent and scary movies. But with Price, he had a whole different taste. "Come, I'll show you your room." He smiled, leading Simon to the spare bedroom A nice big bed with freshly made sheets. "You look tired, Do you need to rest ??' Price asked. Simon yawned and nodded. "Ok, I'll be downstairs if you need me" Price smiled and gently closed the door.

Simon took off his shoes and crawled into the bed, Gently closing his eyes, Getting the needed rest after a very long drive. A couple hours later, he was awoken by... Some delicious smells. What could they be ??

He got up and crept down the stairs, Seeing Price cook dinner, It looked like... Lasagna... He could also hear Price hum to himself as he was singing something to the tune of the radio. As Price placed the lasagna in the oven, he noticed Simon and smiled, walking over gently. "Hey there kiddo, Sleep ok ??" Simon nodded at the question before saying "I did..."

Price smiled and gently brought his hand to Simon's head, Gently ruffling it. Simon couldn't help but twitch a smile briefly. No one has ever done this... The name of endearment, the physical affection, it was all new to him. "You wanna watch a movie ??" Price offered, Simon slowly nodded and followed Price to the living room. He sat down on the couch and kicked his legs slightly as Price went to the DVD cabinet and picked out a couple of movies, Going back to Simon, he showed him what there was on offer.

Chicken run... prince of Egypt... ... a bug's life... Simon stared at the cases for a little while before ultimately handing 2 back to Price and chose Chicken Run. "That one ??" He nodded. Price smiled, placed the DVDs back, popped the current movie into the player and started the movie, sitting next to Simon. He was intrigued by the premise of the movie, eyes glued to the screen. Price smiled as he saw him watching the movie, Inviting him to snuggle closer... Simon saw it and stared at him for a little bit before looking back at the screen. Maybe not just yet.

Price heard the bell of the oven ding and went over to serve the plates. Coming back to Simon with some cutlery and a tea towel, he offered him the fresh hot plate. "Careful now, It's still a little hot" Price warned Simon. "Thank you..."

Simon stared at his plate for a little bit, It looked... really delicious. "I make a killer lasagna" Price said to him proudly with a wink. Simon soon took the cutlery, cutting into it and taking a bite after blowing on it... Oh... It was... So delicious !!! Price smiled as he saw Simon happily eat his food. Once finished, Simon was a happy fed boy. But then... Another thing he was never asked back then... "Would you like some ice cream ??" He was never allowed to have ice cream after dinner. It was very strange, But he ended up saying... "Yes please"

Price nodded and got up, taking the empty plates with him and soon grabbing two bowls and a spoon, Taking the tub of ice cream out of the freezer, he scooped some up and placed them into the bowls. Handing it back to Simon. "There we go" he smiled as he sat back down.

Simon slowly ate as the movie continued, He felt... Like he was seen, He was being helped... He couldn't control his wobbly lip and the tears in his eyes as he snuggled up to price. This man made him feel... safe. Price noticed and smiled wide, wrapping an arm around Simon as the movie continued. Once it was finished, Price looked at him. "Did you enjoy that kiddo ??" He rubbed his arm gently.

"I... I did... Thank you, Mr Price" he said, snuggling impossibly closer to him. Price smiled and then soon, mischief took over him. Creeping his other arm around him, he then began... The tickle attack !!!, Simon gasped before launching into an array of giggles. Trapped in the clutches of Price's ticklish fingers "My my kiddo, So ticklish you are" He chuckled as he continued to tickle Simon's sides.

In that moment... Simon was home... He felt at home...

4 years later.

Simon *now age 14* has been living with Price for 4 years and their bond became unbreakable. He saw Price as a father figure, and even started calling him dad. Price loved Simon with everything within him. But he had a spare room in the house and more room in his heart for one more.

"Simon, can I talk to you about something ??" He sat down on the couch, inviting Simon.

"Hey Dad, What's up ??" Simon sat down next to him.

"How would you feel... If we opened up our home for one more ??" He smiled softly.

Simon sat there thinking about it, The thought of having... a sibling... That's nerve-wracking for a multitude of reasons... But like Price, he had room in his heart for one more as well. So with that, he agreed.

Price then decided to keep it close to home this time as he then went to the adoption agency in London again. But when he walked into the door, he saw a familiar face. "A/n ??"

A/n looked up and saw him, smiling "John, What a surprise"

Price smiled "What bring's you to London ??"

"Oh, they transferred me to the London Centre, It's been pretty fun. How is Simon doing anyway ??"

"Simon is doing good, He's really settled and I know he's happy." Price smiled wide, His kiddo was everything.

"Oh, that is absolutely amazing to hear"

"It is, I'm really proud of him"

"I'm glad he's doing nicely, So what can I do for you ??" He smiled, inviting price to sit.

"I had a talk with Simon and he's comfortable enough that I think another amazing addition to our house would make us all happy"

A/n nodded, smiling. "Oh wonderful, Ok let's get started then"

So once again the formal interview happened to match Price with a child. And then, they found one. A/n, passed a file to price.

"Y/n l/n" *age 12* Price opened the file and read through it.

"Poor child, Their mother kicked them out of the house and they had no family to go to... We found them on the streets and they've been mostly quiet"

Almost how Simon was found... "Can I talk to them ???" He asked. "Of course"

So they got up and walked to your room, A/n knocking on the door. "Y/n ??, I have someone I'd like you to meet"

"Come in..." You said hesitantly as the door opened.

"Y/n, this is John Price. He wants to meet and talk with you for a bit if that's ok ??"

You looked at him briefly and at Price who greeted you with a kind smile and nodded to you. You slowly nodded, indicating yes. "I'll leave you two be" A/n stepped outside as Price entered the room. "Hey y/n, can I sit ??"

You scooched over slowly, Indicating his invitation to do so. He sat down next to you, But not enough to intrude on your space. Seeing a book in your hand. "You like to read ??"

"Sometimes... depends on what it is" You answered him.

"Do you have a favourite genre ???"

"I like... sci-fi and thrillers"

"Nice, I'm a thriller kinda guy, but sci-fi gets thrown in there too" He smiled

"Oh yeah ??"

"Yeah. Have you ever read Sherlock Holmes?? It's one of my favourite book series"

You sat there thinking for a bit. "Hmmm no, I don't think I have"

"Maybe you'd like it. I think it's pretty good, but maybe you wouldn't that's ok too" He smiled.

You and Price continued to get to know each other for the next hour, You slowly began to open up a fair bit, telling Price about your hobbies and interests, even pulling out your figurine from your backpack. "This is Jason Todd, or red hood, He's from the Batman universe." You showed him.

"Oh wow, that's really cool... Y/n, I have a son back at home, His name is Simon and he is similar to you. If you were to meet him and see if you two got along, would you like that ??"

"I guess so..." You went quiet again... The whole situation was a tad bit daunting. You knew he meant well.

He could see the look on your face... He didn't want to force you into anything "What if I stop by later today or tomorrow so you two can spend some time together, Don't feel too pressured, only if you'd be comfortable."

You nodded gently "Ok..."

"It was lovely to meet you Y/n" He smiled and got up, Heading back home, Simone heard him enter the doorway "How did it go ??" Simone asked, Looking up from the tv.

"It went well, I met a kid named y/n, Would it be ok if I brought you over to meet them, I'd think you too would get along" He smiled softly.

"Yeah..." Simon was a little nervous, would you like him ??, Would they be freaked out by the mask ?? *Simon wears a skull surgical mask* He was very hesitant... But... he believed he was ready to be a sibling again.

Heading back to the centre with Simon in tow, A/n guided them to your room and knocked on the door. "Come in..." You said, Price entered the room first before Simon. "Hey again y/n, I brought my son Simon with me" He smiled. Simon stood behind him, quietly staring at you for a bit before waving a little.

"Hi..." You waved back.

He was a bit hesitant, Seeing if you were ok with his presence at first, But you didn't seem hesitant... so that's a good start. So Price gently turned to Simon, Softly smiling and nodding in the direction, He came over to you and sat next to you.

"Hi"

"Hey" He greeted

"Cool mask"

"Thanks... Most people are kind of freaked out by it"

"Well... I think it's cool"

"Thanks... Dad tells me you like to read ??' He tries to start a conversation with you.

"Yeah." You then showed him the book you were reading. A book called Wonder.

Simon inspected it for a bit, Slowly relaxing and sort of sitting on the edge of the bed. "This looks good"

"It is, I'm liking it so far." Price saw a slight shift in your body language, in a more positve note,

"What's your favourite ??' You asked.

"I'm into horror" He answered.

"Oh yeah ?? What's your favourite ???"

"I like Stephen King, I got to read the shining a couple months ago too"

"Nice, I've always wanted to read Carrie, that looks cool"

"I think I remember liking that one"

Price remained silent, soon slipping away outside to give you two the space you wanted, the atmosphere settled down, and it was comfortable. The two were engaging in a full conversation like you had with Price. It was nice, Simon could see why Price liked you, You were kind, and he didn't think he'd mind you becoming a part of the family, Soon price came back inside.

"How are you kiddo's going ??" He smiled

"Doing good" Y/n answered.

Simon nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we're doing good"

"That's great, I'm glad you two are getting along"

"Simon is really cool" You smiled softly.

Simon smiled as well under the mask. "Y/n is nice and cool as well"

This in turn makes Price smile. "Yeah ??" He then turned to you "Y/n, I know it's a lot all at once, but... If you two talked it out, would you want to come home with us ??"

"Oh..." You went quiet, Simon noticed this too.

"That's ok, It doesn't have to be right away. There's no pressure, I promise"

"Could you give us a minute ??" You asked price, To which he agreed and stepped out and nodded, Simon could see your hesitancy. "You guys are cool... But I don't know..."

Simon gently shifted and scooted over. "I know it's a huge step. But believe me, I was in the same position as you. I was... terrified of going home with John before, But he's really kind and he's given me everything i need and more, I know he wouldn't hesitate to do the same for you."

You continued to think about it... But the thoughts of your mom came back to you... the yelling, the stuff being thrown... You couldn't help but think that if you went back with them... It would happen all over again... "I... I can't... I'm too scared... Of it happening all over again, My mom... She used to do many things... Made me very scared... And I'm scared that if I go with you guys it'll happen all over again." You admitted. "I can't help but think... It'll happen all over again." You looked down at the floor, sad.

Simon hesitated for a bit until he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, softly squeezing it. "Y/n..." He hesitated for a bit, it was still too painful to talk about. "I understand that, I know what that's like, I'll say that much. I've lived with him for 4 years and haven't once thought I wasn't loved, With all the stuff I went through and the damage he had to repair... He just wants to love you and give you what you deserve and need, That's why he's here" He squeezed your shoulder again. "I know, I know how you feel. I was just as scared about that. But he's given me more love than I thought possible"

Listening to that, you started to have a change of heart. Maybe... Simon was right, Maybe Price really wanted to help you. "Ok... I'll give it a chance" You nodded, turning to Simon.

He smiled a little under his mask.

Price then came back inside after a bit. "Have you given it a bit of thought y/n ??"

You nodded. "I'll give you a chance"

With that, Price smiled wide and nodded. Like Simon, you were given a weekend with the two. So you packed your bag, and before you knew it, you were in the car with them heading to their home... Possibly your home too.

You arrive at their house soon after. "Woah..." It was a relatively big house.

"Welcome home" Price smiled, Opening the door for you.

"Thank you" You smiled softly and entered, It was nice and cozy.

"Come on, I'll show you your room" Simon said to you and guided you upstairs, Placing your bag down as you sat down on the bed. "It's nice and comfy hey ??" He smiled softly at you. "Yeah, Where's your room ??"

"This used to be mine, But dad let me use the basement as my room" He said.

Speaking of Price. "The room nice and cozy ??' He asked you.

"It is, Thank you" You nodded.

"I'll get dinner started shortly, you two keep each other company eh ??"

Simon turned to you "Come on, I'll set up my XBOX in the living room" He rushed downstairs, You hightailing. XBOX ?? You liked XBOX.

He then set everything up, sitting down and passing you a controller. "I got halo 2 or sonic heroes" He said to you, showing you the cases. You looked at them for a little bit. Interesting choices, In the end, You ended up with halo 2.

Simon placed the disk in and the game started, soon the two of you were having fun, Price could see you start to warm up more to Simon. It was like the two of you were Immediately best friends. He soon eventually came over to you two. "Dinner will be ready soon kiddos" He smiled, gently squeezing Simon's shoulder and ruffling your hair, to which you giggled. "Hey" You fixed it up. It was the first time Price heard you laugh.

"I think it looks better this way" He smirked, ruffling it again. "Stop" You giggled again.... and soon he slipped his hands under your shoulders, Get em Simon" He smiled. Simon get's your waist and the two start tickling you, Launching you into further giggles and laughs

"Gotcha kiddo" Price chuckled, tickling you harder, making you squeak out your laughs.

"Your just as ticklish as Simon" He smirked as he continued. "So so ticklish you are"

"Stohohoho....Stohohoho..." You said in between laughs.

"They almost had it Dad" Simon looked up at him.

"They did, So close y/n, try again" He smirked.

Happy tears started to emerge from your eyes as you finally got out. "STOHOHOHOHOHOHP"

"There it is" They finally let you go. You smiled, curling in on yourself. Price ruffling your head again. Soon the oven dinged, and dinner was ready. Simon bolted to the kitchen as dinner was being served. You weren't too far. He served you... His iconic lasagna. "This looks delicious" You said as he sat down.

"Eat away kiddo" He smiled as you all started to eat, Like Simon, this was the best thing you ever had. It was just so delicious. You didn't even realise you burped once you finished. "Sorry..." You apologised, but then Simon did you one better and let out a louder, longer burp. "Excuse me dad" Which made you giggle. Price chuckled softly and turned to you. "It's ok."

Once dinner was done, You and Simon went back to your halo match as the bond between you two grew... And then, you made your decision...

"Mr price, can I talk to you."

"Of course kiddo what's up ??" He smiled softly at you.

You turned to Simon and back to him before looking at your hands shyly, Trying to come up with the words. "It's ok take your time." He reassured before Simon saw you and walked to the entrance of the kitchen.

With a deep breath... "I... I want to stay with you guys... Not for one weekend."

You wanted to be adopted into their family, Your family. Price smiled so wide and soon pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Simon didn't hesitate and rushed over to you. Hugging you tightly. Making you giggle, You were home...

You were home.

A/N: A great way to start the new blog by breaking my own word count record :D

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[jerzwriter]

Here's part two for this ask and this one, too! I wrote the Ethan x Kaycee version here, and now it's Carrick's turn. I hope you enjoy this!

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Tobias x Casey Carrick (F!MC) Featuring: The Carrick Girls (F!OCs) Rating: Teen Words: 1,100 Summary: When Samantha expresses her displeasure with her Dad at drop off, Tobias & Casey make sure that pick up will be... even worse! :)

It was a beautiful, sunny September morning. It may have been unseasonably cool for some, but not for Casey. She smiled as she took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, her spiced pumpkin latte warming her hands. This was what she had dreamed of all summer long.

“Let’s go, girls!” she called out to her two eldest daughters, Samantha and Brooke, as she secured little Kayla into her booster seat. “It’s too early in the year to be late for school!”

The girls hurried to the car, and Casey checked their seat belts after they strapped themselves in. Samantha, a precocious child, was not pleased. “Mom!” she protested. “I am ten years old now! I know how to put on my seatbelt!”

Casey grinned. “I have no doubt about that, young lady. But, as your mom, I will double-check on your safety whenever I want, even when you’re my age.”

“Even when she’s that old?” Brooke marveled, filling the vehicle with infectious giggles when Casey shot her a stern but amused look. She couldn’t even blame her; thirty-nine seemed pretty ancient to her when she was eight years old, too.

With the girls ready, Casey hopped into the driver’s seat and honked the horn when she saw the time. Tobias came rushing out of the house and settled in the passenger seat. He kissed Casey on the cheek, then turned to smile at his girls. “Morning, ladies. Are we ready?”

“Yep!” Brooke replied enthusiastically, but Samantha just rolled her eyes.

“DAD!” she groaned.

Tobias gave himself a once over, trying to discern the issue. “What? What did I do this time, Sammy? Breathe? Exist?”

Samantha pursed her lips. “You’re not planning on getting out of the car when we get to school, are you?”

“Well, I am now,” he chuckled, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Sammy!” Brooke reprimanded. “Look what you did! You have to learn to listen to what Grammie says and keep your thoughts inside your head!”

Tobias stifled a laugh as he whispered in Casey's ear. “Because my Mom does that so well herself.”

Turning his attention back to his girls, he asked again. “So seriously, Sam. What did I do now?”

“Your clothes!” She admonished.

“What?” He asked, downright offended. “This is a Frank Ocean Blonde hoodie! Official merch! It’s a collector’s item!”

“I like it, Daddy,” Brooke chimed in, and Tobias gave her an approving nod in the visor mirror.

“Thank you, sweetie. And that will be reflected in your Christmas present this year.”

But Samantha wasn't done. “And your shoes?”

Tobias looked at his feet, once again astonished that his daughter had any problem with his attire. “What! What is wrong with my shoes?”

“CROCS. With SOCKS!” Samantha gagged.

“Hey! These are not your standard Crocs, young lady!” Tobias defended. “These are Salehe Bembury! Do you know how hard it was to get these?" He turned to his wife incredulously. “Can you believe this?”

Casey laughed softly, patting his knee. “Clearly, we’ve failed as parents, love. But, they’re young,  we still have time to course-correct.”

“But why SOCKS?” Samantha demanded.

“Because it’s cold!” Tobias sighed, shaking his head.

He looked at Kayla, sitting in the middle seat, blissfully unaware of everything taking place around her. "What can we do to keep her that age forever?” He asked Casey. “I like that age! She still worships me and thinks I’m the most incredible person on earth.”

“Baby isn’t that what you have me for,” Casey winked, sending Samantha into the stratosphere.

“GROSS!” she yelled. “You two are GROSS!”  

They pulled up in front of Samantha and Brooke’s school, and Samantha jumped from the car as if it was on fire. She wanted to be in the front door before her father stepped outside, but Tobias wasn't having it.

“Hello, Principal Hirsch!” he yelled, waving maniacally. “Hello, Mrs. Simmons! Samantha is so excited to get to work today! That's all she could talk about on the ride here!”

"Oh God!" Samantha muttered under her breath, avoiding eye contact with everyone. But Tobias grabbed her hand and gave her a goodbye hug.

“Be good, young lady, or I’ll make Mom get out of the car and kiss her in front of everyone.”

“You’re so embarrassing!” Samantha sighed as Brooke tugged at her Dad’s shirt.

“I love you, Daddy,” Brooke grinned.

“And Daddy loves you, too,” he smiled, waving both girls off to class.

Back in the car, Casey was still laughing over the chaos.

“What do you say we liquidate Sammy’s college fund and take a trip to Tahiti? Just you and me,” Tobias joked. "It would serve her right!"

“That may be a little extreme,” Casey smiled. “Don’t worry, hon. She still adores you. Samantha’s always been Daddy’s little girl, and she always will be. This is just a stage.”

"A stage I hope passes quickly," he sighed. "And it's easier for you! She doesn't seem to get embarrassed by you!”

“Yet!” Casey assured.

“Well, please do what you can to move that process along,” he pleaded. “You know we’re all for equity in this family.”

Casey smirked and got quiet. Tobias noticed the look on her face and leaned in. “Okay, what’s that look about? What are you planning?”

“Oh, nothing,” Casey said, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. “But I just might have an idea…”

~~~~

That afternoon, as school let out, Samantha and Brooke scanned the crowd of waiting parents, only to find Casey, Tobias, and little Kayla waving animatedly—all dressed in inflatable dinosaur costumes.

Brooke's face turned beet red. “Oh my God,” she mumbled, but her embarrassment quickly gave way to delight. She rushed over to her family, giving them all big hugs. “Can I get a dinosaur costume, too?”

“Already done,” Tobias grinned, handing her a package containing a small inflatable dino suit.

Mortified, Samantha tried to sneak toward the car, hoping no one would notice her family. But Tobias bounded over to her in full dinosaur glory, mussing up her perfectly styled curls. “How was your day, beautiful? Was it grrrrr-eat?” he roared.

"Mom!" Samantha cried, only to remember that right now, her Mom was a dinosaur, too.

Later, as the family piled into the car, Tobias looked at Samantha with sincerity. “You know, it’s okay to be embarrassed by us sometimes. Heaven knows Gramie still embarrasses me, but life’s too short not to have a little fun.”

Samantha rolled her eyes but leaned over to give her Dad a hug. “I’m not saying that you’re not embarrassing, but... I’m still glad you’re my Dad.”  

Casey smiled at Tobias from the driver's seat.

“Well, I’m awfully happy I’m your Dad, Sammy. That goes for you, too, Brooke and Kayla.”

“So,” Casey grinned, putting the car in drive. “What do you say stop and get ice cream on the way home? In our costumes, of course!"

“Did you get me one, too?” Sammy asked.

“Do you think we’d leave you out?” Tobias grinned.

Samanta let out a little giggle. “All right, then. Let’s go!"

~~~~~

I kind of picture it going like this! lol

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[incorrectbatfam]

I need to know the story behind these goons

Anon is referring to these guys

Rob is a single parent with 6-year-old twins who turned to a life of theft to provide for his family after a series of layoffs and a bad investments left them hanging by a thread. As his schemes got more elaborate, he linked up with the rest of these guys in a deal where they all give each other a hand.

Blaise is a concert pyrotechnic who walked away from the industry after their boss ignored a safety issue that led to one of their coworkers getting hurt so now they only take freelance gigs that happen to be commissioned by bad guys.

Kellin got fired from the League of Assassins after only week because they botched a training exercise Wile E. Coyote style and blew up Ra's Al Ghul's sauna but still has the thirst for blood that made them wanna be an assassin in the first place.

Molly was a chemistry grad student until an academic dispute forced her to drop out. Now she synthesizes her own experimental drugs and sells them on the black market, hoping to save enough to pay for her gender reassignment.

Otto is a jaded car mechanic who has to keep working despite his old age and chronic pain, and at this point he's too tired to care who he's working with or what he's doing so long as his needs are being met.

Milo is a teenager with a long string of disciplinary issues who ran away from home after his parents threatened to ship him off to military school. He starts working odd jobs to support himself and lands amongst the rest of these guys.

Gene was pressured into going into biomedical research by an overbearing family and snapped under the stress, leading to a rampage that cost thousands in property damage and a decade of lost data. Everyone he knew cut him off and he's laying low from the authorities.

Mac has been stuck in the same dead-end IT job for years and longs for a challenge that no career seems to satisfy. He turns to being a gray hat hacker in his spare time, mainly for the thrills and the opportunity to be creative. Any money he earns is circulated back into his operation.

Booker is just there for college credit but he likes it and plans to stick around. His talents include fixing copy jams and setting up team bonding activities at the mini golf course.