#like article touched on that too like 'oh too bad. that some media will be lost. only accessable to pirates' like.

[moe-broey]

This is so fucking goofy to me (derogatory)

Also to be clear I'm joining Nintendo's war on piracy on the side of piracy. Btw. Hack your 3DS (do NOT update your 3DS if you haven't hacked it yet 🫡)

[cetitan]

I saw that you want inbox questions, soooooo...

What stuff that "sucks" do you like? Shitty fast food/poorly made films/etc. that you adore?

What drew you to the name "Bruce?" One doesn't meet many Bruces these days.

Favorite songs that you wish everyone would listen to?

What's your favorite media that you have preserved, or a currently lost one that you wish to find?

You needn't answer all of these if you wishn't (I don't know if "wishn't" is a word - it is now). There are 4 questions to increase variety! 🐲🐉

Awesome questions let me take a crack at it

"Bad" games and interactive media are the only things I can think of...

I pulled Bruce from Bruce Springsteen. My previous name needed replacing as I adopted it as a gay twink trans man and found it too soft for the new butch masculinity I wanted to project. Bruce is a strong, warm and hearty name to me. It's the name of a guy that'll stick his neck out for you. And I find Bruce Springsteen to be a very modest and human guy. Better than literally naming myself "Butch" like I was seriously considering for a while until I landed on a less Unnamed NPC name. Naturally as another strong B single syllable name it just clicked.

Some of my favourite songs are Star Witness, Two Dogs, I Feel Like The Mother of the World, Next Time Might Be Your Time, I Trawl The Megahertz, and my most favourite song of all Road To Nowhere. There are definitely songs I've listened to more than all of these but there is a universality to these songs and their messages that I find easier to share with others. Experiencing, holding onto, and releasing grief; cosmic praises sung to being alive on Earth. Most of my favourite songs have these or similar themes. Oh and I guess since I mentioned Bruce above, I think my favourite song of his is Bobby Jean. Touches similar feelings.

Media preservation is something I tend to mostly take a sideline spectator interest in, but one of my current 'projects' that I will hopefully post in full about at a later date is to find and upload Antirom, a multimedia project by an artist collective of the same name released in 1994. The University of Westminster in London is a potential lead as I found a press release stating it was in their collection, but their library is private. I highly suggest looking into the history of TOMATO and Antirom if you're interested in New Media counterculture of the mid 90s to early 00s. There's minidocs available on Youtube. Antirom were very inspired by the work of Gerald van der Kaap, an underground music VJ (here's a cool one he did) and his release of BlindRom in 1993, which there is even less information about. Both of these seem to be a matter of finding and emailing the right people, I hope. I found this article with comments from people playing and emulating it through Basilisk in 2014.

Thank you for the very thoughtful ask! I like being given the opportunity to talk about this stuff.

[akayukihime]

Bad Decisions (Pt. 3)

For a company whose name is literally a rewording of “incognito,” secrets sure do get out fast.

Two-thirty had rolled around, and there were only two more meetings planned for the rest of the day. You were so ready to go home, especially after your talk with Myc. You gathered everything you needed: a thermos, your laptop, and a small notebook. Usually there wasn’t too much to make note of at meetings, but every now and then you had to stop the lizard people from trying to take over the world again.

You surmised that a situation like that was really just another Tuesday at Cognito, Inc.

Once you arrived at the scheduled conference room, you took your usual seat next to Andre, looking around in an attempt to figure out who would be heading or presenting this meeting. When you couldn’t spot Reagan, you concluded that it was her, and she was likely making last minute tweaks to some new project of hers. Normally, she would come in with a machine in toe, her chest puffed out pridefully. Everything she made was nothing short of impressive, but there was always some sort of hilarious technical error, and nobody would let her live it down for at least the next few weeks.

You glanced at the door impatiently, wondering what she had been working on this time around. However, your attention was quickly shifted from the door when you noticed in your peripheral vision someone sit down beside you.

“Hey, bitch!” Gigi grinned widely at you with her impossibly white teeth. You smiled back.

“Hey, whore,” you replied before giving her a suspicious look. “You look awfully happy to be here.”

Bingo. The melanated woman giggled like she had been caught. You cocked an eyebrow at her.

If you knew one thing about Gigi, it was that she liked—loved—to gossip. And you, who often had a hard time resisting the urge to click on articles with clickbait titles, were not one to object to hearing about unsuspecting celebrities’ juicy private lives. Little did you know, however, that the private life she had been so invested in as of late, was yours.

“C’mon, now you have to tell me,” you said, your lips curling into a knowing smile. She shrugged her shoulders defensively.

“Actually, why don’t you tell me?” Gigi wiggled her eyebrows, causing you to furrow your own in confusion. You stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out what it all meant when…Oh, no…

She knew about you and Brett.

You hung your head, heat traveling up the back of your neck and to the very tips of your ears faster than you could even consider answering her. Fuck. If Gigi knew, how many other people knew? More importantly, how did she find out? Okay, even though she works in PR/Media Manipulation, surely she had no reason to be suspicious of any unprofessional relations between you and Brett, right? That’s what you thought before you remembered that there was someone else you knew who loved to gossip, possibly even more than Gigi.

Myc.

You were going to kill him. You didn’t care if he was probably unkillable, you were going to find a way. It was going to be ugly, like some old school Men in Black shit.

You had been too busy making a mental note to murder your coworker to notice Reagan, who had finally burst through the doors with a loud slam. The wheels of the cart squeaked as she pulled it around the long table that everyone was seated at. Since it was covered with an old aluminum sheet, whatever contraption she made, and no doubt had been making last-minute touch-ups the night before, was a mystery.

That wasn’t really what had caught your attention, though. It was the tall brunet trailing the disheveled woman.

You recognized Brett instantly and nearly died right there in your seat. You hoped Gigi wouldn’t notice, but that was wishful thinking.

Upon reaching the front, Brett turned around to face all of the people at the large conference table. He absentmindedly scanned the room, but upon meeting your gaze, he perked up and smiled, even offering you a small wave.

Something began to simmer deep in your tummy. He had been in such a rush to leave your office last night, so why was he acting friendly now?

Gigi waved back on your behalf and elbowed your shoulder. You let out an unamused groan and slunk down into your chair, nervously tapping a nonsensical beat on the table with your fingertips.

This was going to be a long presentation.

-

Thankfully, the next few hours went by with nothing notable happening at all. It was a relief beyond comprehension; you were certain that you’d have a heart attack if anything slightly more stressful than the usual work load crossed your path. You had finally been able to get some work done, as long as you didn’t think about Brett.

Right—don’t think about Brett.

You closed your notebook as another boring meeting ended, the last one of the day, slotting your pen in between the pages you left off on. A few things seemed to be at least a little prevalent, like schedule changes for meetings and conferences. It didn’t concern you much, but missing a conference wouldn't look great for you, capable employee or not. Writing things down could never hurt, so you were always handy with your little notebook. Even still, you were more absentminded than usual, but as long as you did your best to focus, you were sure you had nothing to worry about.

Just don’t think about Brett.

Almost like a mantra, you repeated the phrase inside your head. You were trying your best, but trying not to think about him actually made you think about him more.

You visualized the thought as best you could. It was no longer a statement, instead taking on the form a wish, a manifestation, or perhaps even a prayer. You mentally chanted as you walked, too focused on your own thoughts in that moment to really register any of your surroundings.

Don’t think about Brett.

You headed down a hall in route to your office, your eyes scanning the conference room doors without really reading them.

Don’t think about Brett.

You turned the corner.

Just don’t think about—

“Brett!” You exclaimed, colliding head-first into a broad chest. You shook your head, slightly dazed and very much surprised he hadn’t somehow managed to knock you over.

Frantically, Brett grabbed your shoulders in an attempt to steady you. He looked just about as frazzled as you felt—the lapels of his jacket were ruffled and his sleeves were haphazardly rolled up. His hair was a little messy, and a faint blush crept up his tan features as your eyes met.

Instantly, you looked away, eyes darting around to anything that wasn’t the man in front of you. You and Brett both exchanged muttered apologies, and you cursed yourself for managing to run into the man you had, consciously or not, been trying to avoid.

You laughed a little, more so as a nervous habit to fill the silence than out of actual amusement. Of course this would happen.

Lady Luck seemed a little too keen on shitting in your cereal this past week, you thought, entirely too tired for whatever she insisted on further putting you through.

While trying to mentally make a note of how exactly you were going to cut your losses here, you were broken away from your thoughts as you registered Brett speaking to you.

“I need to go,” said the man, his eyes scanning everything around you but failing to meet your own, much like you had been doing.

At least you weren’t solely flustered here; he seemed equally stressed out about something, though you couldn’t imagine what. The only way you could describe how you felt as he hurriedly made his way around you, walking way faster than someone who got hired primarily to just be eye candy for a company working for the Shadow Government, was confused. Con-fucking-fused. More than you had ever been in your life.

First he wants to act excited to see you at a meeting, and then acts like he can’t get away from you faster, not even two hours later.

Making your way into the nearest bathroom, you stepped into a stall and locked the door behind you, sitting on the toilet and burying your face in your hands, admittedly resisting the urge to scream. Why is he acting so weird? You shook your head, knowing you didn’t have an answer. Also, why on Earth were you acting all nervous around him like you were a little girl with some schoolyard crush? It was childish, and there was certainly no room for in a work environment, especially not with a company like Cognito.

-

You glanced at the microwave clock: six- -fifteen. You were trying your best to get your mind off the long day you’d had, and the best way you could think of doing that was cooking. You cooked all the time, of course, living alone meant you had no one else to cook meals for you. Unless you got fast food or take-out, of course, but you would never consider that a real meal.

Cradling a bowl in one arm and mixing its contents with the opposite hand, you were glad you had chosen something that ended up being more hands-on than you were used to. Maybe you’d call it tedious under normal circumstances, but you were instead thankful for how distracting it was from everything that had been on your mind.

Suddenly you were pulled from your little moment of zen when the sound of your phone ringing broke you from your thoughts. You quickly sat everything down on the kitchen counter, going to see whoever it was. It was a little unusual for work to call you after-hours, so you assumed it was a relative, or maybe even a friend from highschool or college.

But once you read the contact displayed on the screen, you realized how painfully wrong you were.

[sugar-omi]

LMAOOO MANAGER BAXTER YES YES YES

he's so sick of yall. he actually gifts you a leash and muzzle n tells you to control that damn dog bc he still hasn't fully covered last months drama!!!

you've definitely been caught in the parking lot w the car shaking or someone sees cove n you going into the bathroom together in the back of someone else's video/livestream

if someone does try to create some fake dirt or digs up something from your past that you dont like/doesn't look good, whoever did it is so fucked!!!

if/when certain "fans" make a stink abt cove dating he definitely posts a photo of him giving the middle finger and the caption "ion have to give yall shit lol"

and "my partner >>> u sorry bitches. oh sorry, i mean 💓💘💝fans💗❣️💕"

he pasters you everyyyyywhere. changes all his profile pictures to either you and him or yall holding hands, or a matching keychain or smth like that and his usernames to things like "y/n's man" and his header literally says "fuck u lol"

baxter cant even cover this one up. and really he doesnt try to. partially bc its too big n cove aint gonna stop, but also bc someone has to do it

he ends up on TV and in articles and he only does a couple interviews bc he's not gonna repeat himself twice. basically tells the world to get off artists/creators backs about their love life and what they do and

"you can't seriously think i'd fuck some sweaty, creepy stalker would you? as if, i'm not that freaky. maybe yall should touch grass instead of consuming media, since you really think i'd want you."

and when he goes on tv, they're wrapping up n the host asks if he has any last words. n its like he flips a switch, all smiley and cute, his voice softer than how it was thorough the interview

"i just wanna say one last thing. thanks for watching, i hope this got through to some of you. but if not, and you decide to keep harassing me and my lover... die🫶😊"

puts his hands into a heart n everything.. his smile all sickly sweet and if the host tries to play it off or someone makes a video abt "how could he do that!?" he just replies to it with a video (or going on the show if its some other show host throwing a stink abt "something so disrespectful!")

"i mean it. yall started it first n imma finish it! so if you don't like it, kiss my ass, darling." n blows a sarcastic kiss for the camera<333

omg cove is so sweet to baxter n derek though

he brings gifts n thanks them, gives derek a big bear hug n slaps baxter with a big wet kiss on the cheek just to fuck w him (may or may not follow it up with "might wanna check your email!" bc he maybe. possibly. just considerably.. did smth bad on the way here....)

also yes yes cove wouldn't trust you w anyone else. if he's going away or you're going somewhere without him, he demands derek stays w you bc he'll be fine but he'd be damned if he didn't make sure you were 100% safe<33

also cove so spoils you. always offers you his lap, has your name on all his cards (the only reason is accounts even have his name on it is bc how tf else would he cash his checks and he needs to have access too)

whenever he brings you to interviews he always ends up talking abt you, even when you're not there..

omfg even if you are or arent there with him when he tours, he always dedicates his songs/shows to you

"this show is for you guys to enjoy, but it's really for my lover!! we're gonna shop and eat like kings after this, baby!🫶"

like pls. everything that his, including himself ofc, is yours.

omg marrying rockstar!cove.... the wedding would go crazyyy i just know it

Imagine marking up rockstar!cove before a show knowing his habit of taking his clothes off during shows

(I have been thinking about this since your drawing of him 🙏)

bro the pap and his fans have a fieldddd day w him. everyone knows what's he's up to n his fans are JEALOUS!!!!

fan, posting a vide of coves marked back/chest: WHAT WAS HE DOING BEDOTR THE SHOW HELP.....

cove: them *replies w a picture of yall in bed*

omg his manager n pr team hates him.....

[purplespaceace]

very few characters actually have adhd in media, and when they do, what people mean by that is just that they fidget a lot, not that they have adhd. the only character with adhd I can think of where I’ve watched/read it and I’ve gone, “oh, this character actually has adhd” is Jake peralta from Brooklyn 99. so, here’s my take on how to write adhd, with examples from Brooklyn 99.

I’ll do the best I can to separate them into three categories; the three things people look for in adults with ADHD, which are rejection sensitivity dysphoria, an interest-based nervous system, and emotional hyperarousal.

I’ll also randomly bold and italicize bits so people with ADHD can actually read it.

Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria, or RSD

Rejection sensitivity dysphoria makes people with ADHD overly sensitive to criticism, even if they perceive a rejection and there actually isn’t one. Their emotions are also very strong generally. Because of RSD, people with ADHD become people-pleasers and can develop anxiety because they’re so eager to please.

For me, RSD makes me cry an embarrassing amount for any little reason. in your writing, make your characters overdramatic, criers, and/or people-pleasers. They’ll have trouble saying no. They may also be over competitive, as their perceived rejection may include losing.

how does Jake show this in b99? When Jake comes up with a catchphrase and Rosa says it’s terrible, jake is far more hurt than he should be. He hates losing, and he gets overly upset whenever someone says they don’t like him or don’t trust him, etc. he’s also a people pleaser who has trouble saying no.

An interest-based nervous system

An interest-based nervous system includes hyperfocuses and an inability to pay attention. It stems from the fact that we can’t make as much dopamine as neurotypicals. This means that while neurotypicals get dopamine after completing a task, people with ADHD don’t. That means that people with ADHD don’t have any reason to do tasks, especially those they don’t like. This leads to executive dysfunction—people with ADHD will know they have to or want to do something, but they can’t seem to do it. people with ADHD hyperfocus on things that bring them dopamine. I was obsessed with warrior cats for three years. But hyperfocuses can also last a short amount of time—I’ll have a drawing idea in the middle of class and won’t be able to concentrate on anything else before I finish it. this is where our impulsiveness comes from. we can leap into things we think will give us dopamine without thinking, which can lead to injury. We also tend to tell people personal things they don’t want to hear because of this, and don’t have very good boundaries. We sometimes say whatever comes into our head, which can also result in us being rude on accident. Our voices can also get very loud or we can interrupt people frequently because we’re so impulsive. When people with ADHD hyperfocus, they can forget about anything else. I’ll forget to eat if I’m busy reading a Wikipedia article about feminism in the 1850s, and won’t go to the bathroom or drink water either. It’s also important to note that taking away distractions doesn’t help, because we can do things like pick at our skin and daydream—something that people with ADHD do a lot of. Because of executive dysfunction, people can call people with ADHD lazy or irresponsible.

people with ADHD can also be extremely indecisive because ADHD affects our executive functioning, and making decisions requires planning and prioritizing, and task initiation, which are both executive functions!

people with ADHD also have poor memory for important things, but tend to remember random bits of trivia. Poor memory leads to object permanence problems, which means people with ADHD can forget to call a friend back for weeks, forget that they need to read library books in a closed cabinet, or forget that the vegetables they got will go bad. People can sometimes say that people with ADHD don’t care about anything because of this.

people with ADHD can also be prone to depression because of under or overstimulation. Boredom feels painful for people with ADHD. If we’re overstimulated, we can experience sensory overload—if things are too bright or too loud, if too many things are touching us at once—often it’s not because the thing is too intense, but because too many things are happening at once.

We also have something some people call dolphin brain, where we jump from one thing to another. From the outside, it looks really random, but I find that when I’m talking to another neurodivergent communication is generally easier. For instance, someone with ADHD might see a bee at a baseball field and tell their team about the time they saw whales at seaworld because their little brother was also stung by a wasp there. people will see no connection on the outside, but it makes perfect sense to the person with ADHD.

people with ADHD can also be overachievers, either because they hyperfocus on schoolwork or their RSD makes it so that failing at something isn’t an option. people with ADHD can also be very controlling and stubborn, probably because we hyperfocus on something and cant handle it being any different, and any change to our plans can be seen as rejection.

we can also have a hard time ordering our thoughts or doing stuff like math in our head. a lot of the time I number my thoughts like, 1. this reason, 2. this reason, etc. even if theres only two or sometimes I just need the 1. as a transition for my brain. when I don’t write it down or organize it like that it feels like I’m trying to grasp ropes that have been covered in oil (it’s not going to happen) and then my brain gets all jumbled and I have to restart at the beginning. this is probably just me, but it feels the same way when I’m reading long paragraphs of something uninteresting, or even short bits of historical documents because the way they phrase things is really pompous and hard to process.

also, stuff like caffeine calms us down and helps us focus. people who don’t take medication (me) often drink coffee or caffeinated sodas to focus.

another random tip, but if your character with ADHD also is genderfluid or genderflux, they might have a hard time figuring out their gender sometimes, because we can be known to have a hard time putting our feelings into words or our brains will just go, “nope, not thinking about that right now” and move on, which can be pretty frustrating.

people with adhd also have a trait called time blindness, where we have no idea how long something takes and therefore can’t manage our time very well. this often results in us being late or just sitting around the house because we got ready way too early.

we also have something called consequence blindness—we do things and are completely unaware of the consequences. if I don’t brush my teeth, I get cavities. but I don’t think about that when I’m deciding I’m too tired to brush my teeth.

in b99, jake regularly stays up all night solving cases and watches documentaries on random topics. He’s also very distractible—when they’re trying to find the person who sent Captain Holt death threats in the train yard, Jake says he and captain holt should take a train trip together sometime. Jake says that he’ll forget Amy if they don't work together because he’s like a goldfish.

Emotional hyperarousal

This is the only thing people tend to include when writing characters: the fidgeting. People with ADHD tend to need more stimulation than others, so we’ll do things like draw during class and chew on pens.

people with ADHD can also have apd, or auditory processing disorder. we tend to watch shows with subtitles on and may take a second to process what you’re saying, or hear it wrong. The subtitles thing may be partially do to creating just the right amount of stimulation, but if I don’t have subtitles, me and my other friends with ADHD will watch tv with the volume turned up very high. People with ADHD also can have a hard time interpreting other people‘s tone and have a hard time controlling their own. They can be bad at social cues and have poor manners because we don’t pick up on that stuff.

people with ADHD also tend to observe everything or nothing at any given time, mostly based on the amount of stimulation they have—if they dont have a lot in their main task, they’ll need to take in something else at the same time. Likewise, if I’m hyperfocusing on something I often don’t notice anything else, like if someone asks me a question.

in b99, Jake fidgets with things a lot. In the intro, he’s picking up and examining a figurine on his desk, likely because he was bored with paperwork or some other task.

[ellana-ravenwood]

The art of taking care of the woman you love - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : You’ve always had really bad period pains. You learned to live with it, and to take care of yourself during those times...Up until a certain Bruce Wayne came into your life, and made it his mission to be there for you. 

For @meghan-maria​, who gotta be the sweetest out there :), and for anyone who ever had really bad period pains. I hope you will like it : 

TW : periods. It’s obvious given the theme, but I guess we never know and better safe than sorry. 

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

_________________________________________________

The First time it happened

It’s the fact you cancelled your planned date with him without an explanation that makes him worry. 

“Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Will see you tomorrow !” 

You never did that before, and you two were so busy neither of you would miss a date really. Not unless something bad or important happened. But then in that case, you would’ve told him, no ?

It made him so anxious. And he was starting to clearly overthink things. 

Were you maybe...having second thoughts ? 

You and Bruce made your relationship official not long ago, was the media’s pressure becoming too much ? You told him you’d be fine, but after a few months experiencing the plague that were paparazzi and invasive questions, did you change your mind ? 

Or maybe it was because of the whole Batman thing ? You discovered that a while ago, even before making your relationship official so...why would you change your mind about it now ? 

Maybe he came home with too many cuts and bruises. Maybe you were freaking out ? He would understand if you did. 

Or...There was a last option that came to his mind : he upset you somehow. 

It was entirely possible, sometimes he could get stuck in his own mind, and be a jerk without even truly realizing it. He knew that fact very well about himself. It was often the reason of how he ruined multiple relationships, friends or more. 

The way he sometimes just got too focused on his vigilante work. Too obsessed. And could be stuck in a “dark mode” like you’d say...

But, he also knew that you never took any of his shit. You would’ve told him if something was really the matter, right ? 

Right ?!

Should he ask Alfred if he noticed anything ? His butler, and surrogate father, always saw things that escaped him. Especially when it came to feelings. 

This was a less known trait about Bruce, but ever since he was a child, he’s always been anxious. He was usually really good at hiding it, and his “Brucie Wayne” persona made everyone think it wasn’t possible for him to be anything else but confident and cocky but...it wasn’t true. 

Especially when it came to those he cared about. Especially when it came to you. 

You loved him despite his flaws, accepted him fully, without any conditions. It was the first time it ever happened, that he LET it happen...So, with this simple plan cancellation that was quite unlike you, he freaked out a bit.

In the middle of the day, he finally decided to call you. One. Two. Three tones before you picked up, and oh. Oh he felt so relieved to hear your little “hello ?” 

At the same time, his worry peaked. Was it just him, or did you sound really weak ?

“Hey honey, just wanted to check if you were alright ? Your text was a little short, and I know you don’t owe me any explanations of course, but I just wanted to check on you. You know. I-um...” 

Clumsy Brooshy. 

It made you smile, the way he could be a little flustered and lose his words, when with you. And it made you smile even wider that he chose to call you to make sure everything was ok. 

Sweet Broosh.

If you really didn’t want to talk to him, you wouldn’t have answered. And he wasn’t the kind of man to “insist”. He would’ve left a voice message, and leave you alone until you felt like calling him back. Bruce was most definitely not invasive...but at the same time, you’d never leave him worrying for no reasons, knowing how anxious he could be.

The truth was, your text was short because...You didn’t know how to tell him the reasons you needed to cancel your date. You didn’t want to embarrass him. Men didn’t really like to talk about what you currently were suffering from. 

You also were a little embarrassed yourself, because the entire society surrounding you made you feel wrong for having periods. 

Periods. 

One week a month. Every single months. That was a lot. 

Especially for you because...you always had complicated and difficult periods. Painful. Making you feel like you couldn’t move. The pain making it impossible for you to even get out of bed for long. 

You and Bruce had been dating for a while but...weren’t periods sort of a taboo subject ? You didn’t really know how to tell him. Especially since most men really seemed uncomfortable with the all thing. 

Of course, you should’ve know Bruce wasn’t “most men”. 

“Baby, are you there ?” 

“Um yes yes, sorry I was lost in thoughts.” 

“Are you ok ? You don’t sound right.” 

The most observant man in the World was obviously going to realize your voice sounded weaker than usually. The truth was, you were trying really hard to keep it steady as pain filled your being. 

“Yes yes, I’m ok, just feeling a bit...under the weather ?” 

“Is there anything I can do ? Is it a cold or something ? If so, I can bring you buy some chicken noodle soup, and pick up any meds you might need.” 

You almost cried at his words. 

Super busy bee Bruce Wayne was telling you he’d go out of his way to bring you what you needed...It made you crack a little. 

He was too damn nice. And your hormones were in shambles. It was very easy right now for you to cry. 

This. How willing he was to help you, how he immediately asked if he could...Was what made you say the truth without thinking twice : 

“I’m-I’m on my periods. They’re usually- They’re usually bad.” 

“Oh.” 

His response scared you a little bit. Were you right, was this maybe too much, too soon ? You were about to add something when he said : 

“I’ll be there in about an hour, if it’s ok with you ? If you prefer to be alone I can send-” 

“No ! No, I would love for you to come. I just-I wasn’t sure-I-”

“It’s ok. I understand. See you in a bit, love you.” 

“Love you, too.” 

On that note, Bruce hung up and leaves you with a wild beating heart. 

************

Exactly an hour later, your doorbell rings. 

With difficulties, you stand up, and go open the door. Surely enough, it’s your boyfriend. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

He has a bag in his hand, and you melt a little at the soft look and smile he gives you (even if there’s clear concerns behind it). You let him in, and go sit on the couch, even if just sitting up is already too much. 

“Do you want to lie down ?” 

“No. No I’m fine. You came all the way here, I can’t just stay in bed haha.” 

“Of course you can.” 

There’s a small silence for a little bit. Not awkward, you’re just not quite sure what to do. Should you go back to bed ? You really want to. And clearly, he understands. He always does. 

“Ok.” 

You stand, and wince because moving really makes everything worst. He approaches you, worried, but doesn’t dare to touch you and just follows you into your room. You get back in your comfy bed, under your comfy comforter. 

Another silence. Until he breaks it, taking something out of the bag he was carrying and saying : 

“So. I wasn’t sure you had a hot water bottle, I don’t ever recall seeing one in your apartment. So I bought one on the way just in case. Sorry if you don’t like the color, I can pick another one up later. It’s just, the woman on YouTube said that heat pads and hot water bottles were great.”

“The...woman on YouTube ?” 

“Yes, I watched a video on menstruations on the way here.” 

For a few seconds, you just stare at him, stunned. Never EVER in your entire life did you think you would hear THE Bruce Wayne say those words one day.

“A video on menstruations ?”

“Well, yes. Obviously, I don’t have periods. So I have no idea what it feels like. So I watched a video, to understand the process. And also so that you wouldn’t have to explain anything to me. You know what periods are, you don’t have to educate me on it. It’s not your job. And I definitely don’t want to sound patronizing about it. So I watched a video, and read a few articles. I won’t say I know how it feels, but I understand it more. Tell me if I ever step my bounds at any moment..” 

You can’t help but smile, even as your lower belly is on fire. Ah. Of course he would search things about it. Bruce was the kind of man to be thorough in his researches before tackling a problem. As Batman, he always tried to know everything there is to know about a situation before finding any solutions. But he was like that in real life too. 

And it particularly touched you that he did it so you wouldn’t have to explain...You had an ex, once, who sat down with you to talk about menstruations and it sort of drove you crazy. He thought it was nice, but your hormones were wreaking HAVOC and he was trying to explain to you how periods work and what it felt like ??? Give you advice about it and that it would be fine if you did what he said ?? Excuse me ??? As if you didn’t try everything already to feel less pain. And as if, as a woman, you didn’t know what it felt like or what it was exactly...

And there came Bruce. Reading up on it. And knowing he would never quite know how it feels. But educating himself so he won’t say something that could trigger you in any way. 

Sweet sweet man...If only people knew. 

He caressed your cheek softly, before whispering : 

“Then I-I watched something on endometriosis, because I read in a previous article it felt horrible. And you said your periods were bad, when we were on the phone. It sounds awful. Do you-...Have endometriosis ?” 

You shake your head weakly. Endometriosis was one of the reason why your periods were so painful and dreaded. And the worst ? It was a sickness many people said didn’t even exist. 

A woman being in pain during her periods ? Drama queen. Right ? It didn’t hurt that baaaaad. See, some women didn’t feel anything, just bled for a bit and moved on with their months. So obviously every women felt the same. Some were just being too sensitive...

Endometriosis was still, even to this day, a rather unknown illness and one that was rarely taken seriously. Some people just couldn’t even fathom you being in pain because of your periods, so much so that you couldn’t move. 

That you occasionally fainted, that you couldn’t eat much because it made you vomit, that you had awful migraines, stomach ache and back pain. That you couldn’t focus or sleep because of it. No. 

No those were just “made up symptoms” because you were “weak”...What awful things to say, right ? It was even worst to hear. Someone telling you this, as you felt like you were dying because of the pain, made you feel GUILTY to have painful periods. 

But it wasn’t your fault ? IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT ?! Nor were the moodswings, the cravings, the fatigue...

You hated going to the doctors when you were younger, because you knew he wouldn’t believe you when you said your periods hurt...

Anyway. Even without endometriosis, women who had bad periods pain were rarely taken seriously. Unless they met another woman who felt the same. Then they’d feel like they weren’t alone, or crazy. Like there were others who felt bad too. 

Every woman was different. And you unfortunately never met someone else with the same problems than you...

You felt very alone, for so long, and it was enhanced by your hormones going crazy and the pain being unbearable at times. 

And then, in come Bruce. 

Your Broosh. 

“Ok. Well. I brought you some of your favorite food. And um, I picked up some snacks if you want to do a movie marathon ? I brought all The Lord of the Rings extended editions. I got heat pads and a hot water bottle like I said. We can also just cuddle and relax if you prefer, I read that physical comfort was good ? Or, I can leave everything here, settle you in properly, and leave you alone. Just, tell me what you need my love ?” 

What did...you need ? 

Nobody ever asked you that. Nobody. Not even your parents. 

What did you need ? 

The answer came quickly. 

Him. You need him. His warmth. His large and soothing hands. His comforting presence. His calming voice. 

You knew you were in love with him since a while now. You exchanged “I love yous” already. But never did you feel as much love for him as right now, seeing him sitting in front of you, asking you what you needed...

A simple action. Simple words. And yet, it meant everything. 

“What do you need, honey ?” 

The concern in his eyes, and how he was very obviously ready to do whatever you wanted him to. 

It already made you feel better. The physical pain didn’t go down, that’s not how it worked unfortunately. But the emotional anguish ? Gone. 

Because he was there. 

Without even realizing it, you started crying. This was too much for your heart, too overwhelming. It meant the World, in that moment. 

It meant the world, to you and your overworked hormones. And so you cried. You cried hard. 

Without thinking twice, Bruce moved towards you. Taking his coat off and leaving it on the floor (Alfred would scold him about this for sure), he climbs in your bed and engulfs you in his arms. And it’s so warm and comforting, comfortable, too. 

“Just tell me what you need..”

He whispered to you, in his deep calming voice, his fingers running soothingly through your hair. 

“Could you just...keep holding me ?” 

He smiles softly, and says : 

“Of course.” 

He never, and never would, shy away from comforting you in any way. If you needed to have a good cry in his arms, so be it. And if you just needed him to be there, he would be there. 

You cuddled for a bit, the soothing circles he rubbed on your back doing wonders to make you feel relax. He brought some essential oils, that he massaged on your belly before filling the hot water bottle and laying it there...It relieved the pain a little bit, as you started a marathon of your favorite movies.

He took great care of you all day long, answering your every need even as you didn’t dare to ask...as if he could read your mind. You almost suspected he really could. You never felt so in phase with anyone before like you did with him.  

You had been together for less than a year. Although your anniversary was right around the corner. But him coming over as soon as he knew you weren’t feeling well. Him educating himself on what was it that hurt you...

If you weren’t sure yet that he was the one...You knew now. 

It sucks to be a woman, sometimes 

Bruce never knew periods could be that bad. Well, of course, he was a guy. And “periods” was never really a subject he talked about with anyone. He never really paid attention to it, like many men really. 

Until he saw you while on it. 

He knew you. He knew you were a tough lady. Once, you broke your leg while on a date with him. A silly accident really. Involving an ice rink, and an overzealous you chasing a hockey puck...Long story short, you ended up with a bad break. And you barely said a word about it. 

Bruce had his bones broken many times, he knew the pain of it. It was one of the pain he hated the most, along with burns. One he dreaded the most. And you took it like a champ. 

The break was bad enough you even needed surgery, yet you kept smiling at him (he might’ve feel bad that he let his over-competitive mind take over, “pushing” you to really want that puck...but of course, it was not his fault, after all, you too were very competitive, it was a pure accident). Saying you were fine, and that it’d be ok. 

He always hated seeing you hurt, it hurt him too. Inside. And scared the Hell out of him, to even think about you being harmed. So that day, he was rather frantic. You staying calm helped him, which made him feel a little guilty that even as you were the hurt one, you reassured him. 

But then you reminded him the roles were often reversed when he came back hurt from a rough vigilante night...You always had the right words to ease his mind. 

Anyway. That one time, after badly breaking your leg, you stayed rather calm and collected. But when you had your periods ? 

He never knew it could hurt so much. You couldn’t hide your pain, or pretend everything was alright. 

It was clearly a really bad moment to go through. 

He knew about the terrible migraines, being unable to sleep which made everything worst, feeling like your lower belly was being twisted from the inside, being sore all over for no reasons, not being able to move... 

Seeing you, was enough for him to know that periods sucked. 

“Being a woman is the worst, sometimes!” 

You’d often say during those moments, and he’d just soothe you, wishing he was in your place...

He hated when you were hurting. It hurt him too. Inside. 

And never. NEVER would he doubt that you were in real pain. Because unlike the doctors who kept telling you it was in your head, he knew you. He saw you get injured before. He knew you were tough. So for you to not be able to pretend everything was fine... 

You were hurting. Badly. And it was awful. But he believed you. He believed you and that’s all that mattered to you. 

Space

He also knew how to give you space when you needed it, though. 

He would be here if you needed him, bring you any food you craved, giving you relaxing massages, rubbing essential oils on your belly, filling up your hot water bottle etc etc. 

To be honest, his reaction to you being on your period is what made you sure he would be a great father one day...And you were right. 

Not a perfect father. 

But oh. Oh he cared. And wanted so much to do good...

And he knew. 

He knew exactly when he had to be there, and when he had to give you space. 

His hoodie

Bruce couldn’t always be with you when you had your periods, of course. 

He often took time off to be. But it was unrealistic to think he could be 24/7 with you the entire week. 

And sometimes, when he was away, you really suddenly craved his presence...So you came up with a trick. 

You stole his clothes. 

Particularly, hoodies he often wore when hanging out casually in the Manor. 

First of, they were very comfortable. And second, and most importantly : they smelled like him. 

They were warm, had his scent, and you could fall asleep feeling like he was almost there. 

Bruce couldn’t count the number of hoodies he lost to you....Then again, after a while, you’d ruthlessly abandon one because it stopped smelling like him, and would steal another one. 

Of course, he never minded. In fact, beyond the fact hoodies were nice and comfortable, he started to wear them a lot while in the house or during times he didn’t need to wear a suit (in every sense of the term), specifically because he knew you’d steal them when you felt lonely. 

It was cute. And it made his heart beat faster just thinking about it. 

Nobody. 

Nobody ever needed him that much before. Nobody ever loved him so much that sometimes him not being around was distressing. 

Of course, he felt the same. And the knowledge that you too, would sometimes feel lovesick when you were separated for too long...Filled his heart to the brim with the best feelings. 

For so long, he thought someone being dependable of him, and him being dependable of someone was bad...Oh, how he was wrong. 

It’s not because you open your heart to someone that you’ll get hurt, or that they’ll use it against you. You just have to find the right person... 

So. Yes. He will always cancel plans just to be with you. 

To bring you hot water bottles whenever you need. To cook your favorite food and snacks. To be there during all your mood swings, and endure even if you’re not the nicest to him (it’s not your fault). To watch your favorite movies. To let you sleep in and run your errands...

Periods sucked. 

He didn’t need to be a woman to know that. 

So he was there. Right there. For you. Taking care of you. And he would forever be there for that. 

But when he wasn’t ? 

Then he’d strategically leave one of his hoodie near the bed, so you could steal it, and comfort yourself with his smell...

Mood Swings 

“Brooooooooooosssssh...” 

You’re crying. You’re crying ! 

And it makes Bruce panic. You cry very rarely, so when you do it means something really bad must’ve happened or..or...

Bruce makes a quick calculation in his head and...Yup. 

It’s that time of the month again. 

Already ? Poor you.. 

This means that tomorrow, you’ll be a mess as everything will hurt too much, and today, the eve right before, you’re overly emotional. 

Hence you clinging to him right now, sobbing while repeating “I love you so much Bruce, I love you soooo much”. 

Hormones could really turn your head around. Right at the start of your period, before the pain, you had a rush of many emotions. 

You could either get very irritated for no reason (like “WHY IS THIS FLOOR ON THE FLOOR ?!”) or cry at everything. Right now, you were crying because you realized you loved your Broosh to death and you just had to tell him and you didn’t want him to go that night and...ah...

“It’s alright, it’s alright my love. You’re ok. We’re ok.” 

He lets you cry in his arms, of course. And already made the decision to not go out tonight, and stay with you. Kate could take over. He couldn’t leave knowing your emotions were doing quite a trick on you...

************

Your mood swings during your periods were particularly bad. 

You guessed it went in pairs with all the pain. Of course, not just one thing had to be exacerbated. Oh no. EVERYTHING bad about periods had to be turned to the max for you. Otherwise, were was the fun, right ? Sarcasm. 

You’d get irritated for no reasons. Then feel bad and cry for hours. To then feel ridiculously giddy once again for seemingly no reason...and then suddenly a burst of anxiety would attack you. 

It was a circus in your mind, and in your body. 

You couldn’t focus on anything. You couldn’t sleep properly. You felt awful all the time. Everything hurt. God...

And there he was. Bruce. Taking the brunt of your bad moods without saying a word. He knew it wasn’t your fault. That you didn’t mean it. That your hormones dictated your behavior against your own will. 

He knew. 

And he was there. 

He was there. 

“Every little moment is important, Son” - Thomas Wayne, to Bruce during the Flashpoint events.

“Bruce ? What are you doing here ? Thought you had important meetings ?”

“They weren’t that important.” 

“Really ? Lucious said-”

“Lucious is overdramatic. Anyway, Tim is taking care of it.” 

“...You’re letting our sixteen years old son taking care of the future of your company ?” 

“To be honest, he’s probably more competent about it than me.” 

“...That’s actually pretty accurate. But, why did you cancel things ?” 

“Because it’s this unpleasant time of the month, right ?”

“Oh. You don’t have to-” 

“I absolutely do.” 

Disappearing for a few seconds, your husbands comes back, wearing one of his favorite silk pajamas (and by “his” favorite, he really means : he knows you love them and think they look good on him, but won’t ever admit it because they’re “damn pajamas, it’s silly”...but he likes to please you). He then climbs in bed with you, and settles comfortable against you. 

“So, what’s the program today ?” 

This wasn’t unusual, for him to do this when you were on your periods. 

In fact, it was almost a ritual. Delegating his works to others, so he could take care of you. 

Ever since that first time, all those years ago, things didn’t change much. He would ask you what you need, you’d tell him, and he would do it happily. 

He knew it was a tough moment for you, physically, hormonally, mentally...Having your periods sucked. So he was there. Right there. 

The words his father...Well, not really his father. The “Thomas Wayne” of another dimension. What his father would’ve become if he died that fateful night, instead of his parents. Regardless, to him, it was his father. 

The father that never saw him grow up and became the man he was now...Yet who had important words for him. 

“Take advantage of every little moments, you never know when it’ll end.” 

Those words stuck with him. Because it was true. It only took a few seconds in an alleyway for his whole world to turn upside down...Why would it take any less for it to completely change now too ? 

What if something happened to you ? And he didn’t spend enough time by your side ? Or to his kids ? 

There was a time, being Batman was everything to Bruce. Because he was angry, lost, and devastated. 

But over the years...Over the years this role stayed important. But he expended his vision. He included others in it. 

So. Yes. He would treasure those small moments with you. And if it meant taking a day and night off to take care of you during a rough time, then he’d do it. If it meant missing work (both his works) because one of his children was sick, so be it. 

He was Batman. But he was also a husband. A father. 

And now...Now he knew his priorities. 

He’d never stop being Batman. Never. 

But he knew now. He knew there was more to life than this dark world he thought he’d get stuck in till the end of his life. 

“I was about to watch a movie.” 

“A movie it is. If you want me here, of course.” 

“Do you even have to ask ?” 

“To make sure you’re ok ? Always.” 

“-sigh- Yes. Yes Bruce, I want you here. I want nothing else, in fact.” 

“Ah, not even pop-corn ?”

“...Once we’ll have pop-corn, I’ll want nothing else.” 

“Um, why is there tampons in your drawer ??” 

One day, one of Bruce’s associate, Carlton, needed some paperworks to finish a deal, and came into his office. Bruce was on the phone, and gestured to him to just pick the papers up in one of his desk’s drawer. 

Only the man misunderstood and opened the wrong drawer and...

“What the-Why is there tampons and pads in your drawers ?”

He asked, half-bewildered half-amused. Bruce finished his phone call, and answered : 

“Why wouldn’t there be ?” 

“Um, are you a woman ?” 

“No, but my wife, who often come to this office, is.” 

“Jeez Louise Bruce, never pegged you to be such a simp haha ! Oh man, they’re even “organic”, how far can you go for one woman right ? Haha joking of course, or maybe..haha !” 

There was something in the tone Carlton took that brushed Bruce the wrong way. Something disrespectful and irritating. Not disrespectful to him, as if he cared to be called a “simp” (by a grown ass man by the way, which made it even more ridiculous). No. He didn’t care. But..This was his wife, they were talking about, in the end. 

“A...”simp” ? Because I have items who can be useful to my wife in my desk drawer ? A place in which she often comes, as I already said ?” 

His voice was cold, and Carlton definitely noticed. He always thought Bruce was an affable man, but sometimes...Sometimes he had something almost scary in his eyes. 

Ah, but Carlton wasn’t the kind of man to really take this things seriously. And he added : 

“Come on Bruce, don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous ?”

“No.” 

“I just think it’s funny you have a drawer full of those things.” 

“As I said, my wife comes by often, and might need it sometimes. I keep them here for her. It often came in handy you know.” 

“Don’t say that, that’s so gross.” 

“Why ?” 

“Just thinking about it.” 

“Just thinking about something my wife, but also yours by the way, have no control over ?” 

“My wife doesn’t- We just don’t talk about it.” 

“Well I guess yes. Or you wouldn’t react that way. Do you not take care of her when she has her periods ?” 

At the word “periods”, the man opened his eyes wide, which made your husband roll his. It truly TRULY baffled him that this dude was being grossed by OBJECTS and most likely didn’t take care of his wife ? How could you love someone and not want to comfort them ?! 

“Well, I don’t think she- I- She doesn’t - I ...It’s embarrassing, no ?”

“No.” 

“Well, maybe it’s not with your wife but with mine it has been. She asked me a few times to buy pads for her.” 

“Why would it be embarrassing ? I can assure you, nobody is going to think it’s for you.” 

Carlton’s face was steadily going red. He said : 

“It’s just something we don’t talk about.”

“Why not ?” 

“It’s just...gross and...” 

“Why is it gross though ? Why do you think that way ?” 

“I mean, you know what periods are right ?” 

“Of course I do. It’s something happening to a very large chunk of our population, and that is a natural phase in their life. Do you think your wife wants to have periods ? Most likely not. Mine definitely doesn’t. But she does. So I do keep pads and tampons here in case of an emergency, in case she has nothing else on her.” 

“Nothing else ?” 

“Do you think only pads and tampons exist for women’s periods ?” 

“I-”

“It’s not hard to read up on it a bit. Especially when someone as close as your own wife is a “victim” of it."

Awkard silence. Clearly, the man was uncomfortable. Bruce sighed, and said : 

“Just go take care of those papers.” 

Evidently relieved, his associate almost ran out of the room. 

Bruce kept thinking about how funny Carlton thought it was to have pads in his drawers. How he was about to mock him further before he got called out. “Simp”. If taking care of the woman he loved meant being a simp, then whatever. 

Bruce couldn’t stop thinking about his associate’s words. And it gave him an idea...

The next day, every newspapers and local news channel talked about how the (Y/N) Wayne Foundation gave millions of dollars to every school and public places in the country to provide free tampons and pads to women. And how Bruce Wayne became a huge advocate of the “period positivity” movement his wife started. 

“Periods shouldn’t be taboo.”, he said in his speech for the grand-opening of thousands and thousands of free pads distributors. 

When the kids are around. 

Dick 

Dick was little when he first witnessed what your periods did to you, and he downright panicked when you fainted in front of him while you two were shopping for Bruce’s birthday present ! 

That morning when you woke up, you knew you were going to have your periods. You always felt it in your bones, a little bit before it truly started...But you also promised little Dickie you’d help him chose a gift for your husband. 

You hated breaking your promises. Especially the one you made to your kid. He was just nine, and already experienced so many heartache...You couldn’t just break a promise you made to him, no matter what. 

So you went anyway, knowing there was a high chance you’d feel ill during the day. You were hoping, in fact, your periods wouldn’t truly start up until the evening, and so you could spend the day with your son. 

Alas...

“Mom ? Mom !? Someone help !!” 

Your fainting during your period never lasted long. Just a sudden drop of energy, feeling dizzy, and falling...you woke up fast. Opening your eyes to see your baby boy with tears in his eyes. You knew what happened, and reassured him immediately. 

You refused to call an ambulance, and instead called Alfred to ask if he could come pick you two up (you would NOT risk driving while in this state). 

And there you were, sitting on a bench with your son while waiting for Alfred who would be there as soon as it takes to get from Wayne Manor to Gotham’s City Center. 

“Are you sure you’re ok ?” 

“Yes, don’t worry, this is normal.”

“Fainting is not normal !” 

Dick looked so distressed...Should you tell him what was going on ? But he was such a young child. 

Ah. But you were amongst the people who thought that kids weren’t as stupid as many people thought. And that they could handle the truth, especially this kind of things. 

Understand what was happening to you would surely easy his mind. And make him understand, and act accordingly in the future. Wether with you, or a possible girlfriend ? 

So you do just that. 

You explain to him what is going on. You don’t give too many scientific details, but you explain as best you can so he understands. 

“And every women has it ?” 

“Every women have periods yes. But not everyone’s hurt.” 

“Why do yours hurt ?” 

“We don’t really know. I guess I wasn’t lucky ?”

“Scientists don’t know ?” 

“Well, research on it are rather recents to be honest.” 

“Why ? Women had it long ago too no ?” 

“Yes, but it was a little taboo.” 

“Why ?”

“Patriarchy.” 

“Oh, damn patriarchy.” 

You laugh. You knows he didn’t understand your answer, said as a joke to yourself. But it’s absolutely adorable how he immediately sides with you anyway. 

“When I grow up, I’ll be a scientist. So I can help.” 

“Ah, I thought you wanted to be an adventurer like Indiana Jones ? Or “whatever dad is doing I want to do it too” ?” 

“Well. I can do more than once things at the same time, right ?” 

“Sure you can. You can do anything.” 

He smiles at you, and get closer for a little cuddle. And that’s how Alfred finds you two, your son hugging you, and you hugging him back, on a bench in the streets... 

************

After the initial panic, Dick made it his mission to take care of you. He got really scared when he saw you faint, and would actually be a little...overbearing. 

When he knew you were on your periods, he’d literally forbid you to walk around, and would make sure you had everything you needed. 

His attentions, plus Bruce’s, made you feel like periods weren’t so bad in the end ? 

Even as a grown up, Dick would often come by the manor with your favorite cake, for example, when he knew you didn’t feel well. And he would still get strict with you if he saw you roaming around and getting too busy while he knew you were in pain. 

He’d do whatever you had to, for you. Wether it was cleaning things up, picking groceries...Running any errands for you, so you could rest. 

You were definitely grateful. Even if sometimes, you wish you could just tell him to ease up a bit...Ah. But how could you really ? 

The trauma Dick felt when loosing his parents made him overprotective and rather intransigeant. This was just how he was. And you always loved all your children unconditionally. You could take him being a bit too overprotective sometimes, because oh, oh he brought so much in your life...  

Jason 

You having really bad periods is the reason why when Jason, as a child or an adult, heard anyone say to a girl : “Jeez, why you so moody are you on your periods ?!”, would get mad. 

It was cute to see his little ten years old self lecture grown adults about it : “Periods are really tough on a girl ! It’s not their fault is they don’t feel well or have mood swings, be more empathetic !”. 

And it was still cute to see him as an adult glare at those who’d say this and give them a sermon about why it was wrong, and they better not say it again “or else” (and when a man like your son said the words “or else”, literally no one wanted to find out what he meant by it). 

Once, someone told him, sarcastically : 

“Wow, you drunk a lot of “respect women juice” huh ?” 

“What is that even suppose to mean ? I’m being a decent human being. You should try it sometimes. If respecting women is so foreign to you, that hearing me say what I said is funny and ridiculous, reassess your life mate.”

It’s really not like anyone really wanted to argue with your son. Besides the fact he was very tall, and as a vigilante definitely worked out a lot...he had a “dangerous” air about him. It was his eyes maybe, daring anyone to argue and making them understand he wouldn’t back down without a fight ? 

Ah. But if only people tried to look beyond that. If they only tried to know your son. 

They’d realize he’s the sweetest little buddy around.  

It surprised people that you still called him “little buddy” even as he was fast approaching his mid-twenties. But for you... 

For you he was still that little, sweet Jay he was before he died. The one that you could still see sometimes, behind all his anger, trauma and hurt. 

Ever since he was a child, Jason always felt everything more than anyone around him. He was an “hypersensitive” child. When he was angry, he was enraged. When he was happy, he was the happiest boy on Earth. When he was sad, it was hard to console him. 

When he grew up, and all those bad things happened to him...This trait of his got even more enhanced. It was sometimes hard to reach him under all those negative emotions...Yet. Yet you managed to do it. 

Bruce too...But that was another story. 

For now, you just always felt extremely proud that your son was actually not as harsh as some people thought (the same mistakes they all kept making about your husband...you hated this kind of assumptions). 

He always stood up for the underdogs. And was always respectful, and would voice his opinions. 

Like how he hated when people told women : “ugh are you on your periods ?!” if they were being just a tiny bit difficult (sometimes, not even). 

As a kid, Jason would worry a lot about you when you were on your periods. He hounded Bruce to know if you were ok, which your husband didn’t mind, of course. But he never quite dared to “bother you”. 

Of course, he would never bother you. But Jason was a complicated kid who always worried too much. He didn’t want to get in your way, or annoy you. 

So he had little quiet actions for you. 

Like getting your slippers warm when you’d wake up, by placing them near the radiators all night and putting them right beside your bed before you’d wake up. Or bringing you hot beverages. Baking your favorite treats, and leaving them in strategic places so you’d see it. Or scolding his dad when he thought he wasn’t taking care of you enough haha. 

Jason was a good kid. Nobody would ever change your mind on that. He was a good kid, to whom bad things happened. Yet he never strayed from his principles...No matter how people could see his recent actions. 

Jason was a good kid. 

He was your kid. 

As a child, he hated this week during which you had your periods. He dreaded them as much as you did. Just like Bruce, he had a hard time standing you being hurt...

As an adult. It was the same. And he still had little silent actions to make you feel better. To make your day easier. 

That was Jason for you. 

Such, such a good kid... 

Tim 

Tim, very much like his father, was a boy who needed to always have a plan, and to know everything before finding solutions. 

When you were on your periods, he’d always know. Because he kept a calendar about it. 

Some people might find it weird, but...Why ? He kept count of the days to know when you’d have your periods, so he could act accordingly. So he wouldn’t be caught off guard by one of your mood swings. And so he could take care of you ?? 

It was an act of care, to keep track of your periods. Sometimes, he even knew before you when you were going to have it. 

People who thought it was weird to kept such a calendar, were the same people who thought periods were gross and a taboo subject. 

Sure, it was definitely not very glamorous. But it was part of half of the World’s population life ?? Why keep it taboo and refusing to talk about it ? 

Tim immediately, just like his dad, did a lot of research on women’s menstruations...Which got you to be called in his principal’s office once. 

The man was worried, and unhappy that your son was reading a magazine “for woman” about “menstruations”, he thought the topic was vulgar and inappropriate. 

Your son was 13. Which was also the age many of his girl friends were experiencing their first periods. And that principal was out there, scolding him because he talked about it, making an entire generation of little girls thinking they were wrong for having periods ? 

Needless to say, you got rather mad. And the principle never called you ever again (if he had to call, he was always making sure to get your husband on the line, and not you).

And so Tim kept learning everything possible about it, in the hope also to find the perfect remedies to ease your pain. He tried a lot, to help you out. Gave tricks to Bruce, too. 

And so, kept a calendar. 

This allowed him to know if something was wrong, as well. 

He was the first one to guess you were pregnant with Thomas, because of his calendar. And one time, you had hormonal problems and he’s the one that told you you should check an endocrinologist because you’d been too irregular with your periods time ! 

Yes. Just like his dad, Tim needed to know a situation fully before acting. And seeing him trying to know as much as he could in order to help you was...why, it was the most adorable thing in the world. 

Cass

Cass’ periods were not painful, and you were so glad for her. 

To her, it was a mild annoyance, there was no pain, it was just irritating. And yes, she had mood swings and could easily get mad, but it was nothing major. 

She never even knew other women could have it so bad...The education about periods was really lacking ! They never talked about it anywhere ! 

Cass was a woman of few words...but she knew how to pass her emotions through her body language. Oh, how she knew. 

“Momma.” 

Just like your other kids, she’d come check on you when Bruce couldn’t take care of you. You wanted space sometimes, which they all understood. But honestly, during your periods, when you were so sensitive about everything ? You also wanted them around almost all the time. 

A paradox. Very fitting of those damn periods time. 

Cass would just sit with you, and make sure you were comfortable. She wouldn’t say a word. Lay her head on your shoulder, and hold your hand. Watch movies with you. Hold you close. 

She was delicate with you, as if afraid to break you. 

Just like your husband, her presence had a soothing effect ? As if nothing bad could ever happen to you as long as she was there (and that probably was right, Cassandra would never let anyone touch her “momma”).

She didn’t need to talk. She didn’t need to do anything more than stay with you when you didn’t want to be alone. 

She never experienced the pain you had, but if even to her, who had painless periods, it was annoying and a damn plague ? Then to you... 

She didn’t need to do much. 

Just her being there already meant a lot. 

Her holding onto you, even as she stayed afraid of anyone’s touch for so long. 

“Momma.” 

Cassandra was your only daughter. And oh you were glad her periods weren’t as bad as yours. That’s all that really mattered to you. 

“Momma.” 

You often fell asleep with the warmth of your kiddo right there. Next to you. Knowing she wasn’t going to leave unless you wanted to. Knowing she wish she could take your pain on. 

Ah. But no. No even if it was possible you’d never allow that. You were the mom. YOU were supposed to take their pains on. 

And knowing that Cass never suffered on her periods as bad as you did, was enough. After all, your baby suffered enough in the past...She could get a little lucky, right ? 

“Momma.” 

That word was music to your hear. Cass’ first word to you. 

She didn’t need to talk anyway. Being here was enough...

It was more than enough. 

Damian 

Everyone who saw Damian around you would notice that he wasn’t quite the same boy than "normally”. 

He was calmer, nicer, and sweeter. 

You’d argue that it was his real self. That this was his “normal”. That he was just never allowed to show his true heart before, and wasn’t used to trust others and open up. And you were definitely more than happy that he finally managed to do that after arriving into your home. 

That none of you ever gave up on him. 

You especially had a calming effect on him. After all, he never had a “conventional” mom, who could take care of him when he was sick, kiss him good night and make sure he always had everything he needed. 

Some would say you coddled him too much...And you didn’t care. Because that boy lived 10 years being the opposite of coddled. So what, if you’d cut the crust off of his sandwiches, or read him bed time stories every single night ? 

Damian loved it. As he often said, being a momma’s boy was “hardly something he was ashamed of”. He never felt loved and safe before, you bet he’d take every chance he got to be cared for. 

He never got to act like an actual kid. You allowed him to do just that, AND you made him feel like he belonged. Finally. Like he had an actual family. 

So...The day he heard about your absolutely awful periods, what did he do ? 

Every single day of your life with him, you had at least one nice intention to him. Wether it was baking his favorite cookies, or telling him how proud you were of him, you always had nothing but kindness for him, often going out of your way for your son. 

It was normal for you. Of course. And you did it with all your children...but you had to admit maybe Damian had just a little more of it, because he really never had anything like that to him. 

And to him, it only felt normal then, when you felt at your worst, that he’d be there for you exactly like you were there for him. 

During any mood swings, he’d have comforting words for you. He had little attentions for you that just made life easier. 

Again, it would greatly surprise anyone but his family, but when you had your periods, he did a lot of overly sappy little things. 

Like for example : every month, he wrote seven things he found extraordinary about you and would put them in a jar. Seven. The number of day in a week. And usually the number of day, give or take, your periods would last. 

The jar would be sitting right on your bedside table on the first day, with the indications you had to read one paper every morning, or every time you felt down (it was supposed to be one paper a day). Sometimes, you’d go through his seven messages in less than a day...and magically, the next day, the jar would be filled again. 

Damian made sure of it. 

This was just a small example. But it showed exactly what kind of boy your son really was. 

If he was heartless, a killer, someone destined to destroy the World...would he really put that much effort into making you feel love ? Into making you feel better any way he could ? 

You didn’t think so. The only way your son could ever “turn bad”, was if you (and Bruce) stopped caring for him. Left him alone (A/N : this is a CLEAR jab at current comics canon, if you know what I mean :I ). Only if he felt abandoned, unloved, and rejected. 

You knew your boy had, just like you, “rejection dysphoria”. It was hard for him to accept any kind of rejection, and it made him act out and hurt. But that was another story... 

Right now, all that mattered to you, is that you knew your son was always going to be there for you, just like you’d always be there for him. 

That he finally learned how to love, and care. That he would never unlearn it, as long as you lived. 

Your periods sucked. 

So bad. 

But Damian was a ray of light in the darkness of those seven dreaded days...

Duke 

Duke’s mom also had endometriosis. 

Over the years, he perfected a “special remedy” he always made her when she had her periods. 

He hesitated to make it for you. After all, it was something that made him bond greatly with his own mom...was making it for you, now, acceptable ? Did it mean he forgot about his mother ? 

No. No of course not. 

Duke scolded himself for even thinking that. You too, became his mom. He learned over the years that it was ok, to have two mom. That when they’ll find a cure for his parents, it wouldn’t take away the years you filled in for the mother role, and took care of Duke as if he was your own. 

So here we go. 

Some ginger. Some lemon. A dash of his little secret ingredients. Your favorite blend of tea. And it was done. 

He brought it to you, saying it always soothed his mom...

And just that. 

Just those words. It meant so much. 

“It always used to soothe my mom. Used to do it all the time, ever since I was five !” 

He said with a smile. 

It was something he used to do for his mom, and now he did it for you. Just this. Just that fact, it was enough to make you feel better. 

It didn’t take away the pain, but mentally ? It felt amazing. 

You drunk his concoction and...Oh god. 

Oh god it was disgusting. And...Ah. Yes. His mom probably pretended she liked it. “Ever since I was five !”. Ha. So cute. But also, it really was gross. 

At the same time, you felt a pleasant warmth spread through your body as the terrible aftertaste slowly faded. Duke smiled to you, and with a little mischief in his voice said : 

“It’s really gross, isn’t it ? But it does the trick haha” 

There was a few seconds of silence. During which you blinked at him, not quite registering what he just said. Until... 

You burst out laughing. The little mischievous smile, and the way he said “it’s really gross, isn’t it ?” was just too funny. 

Your communicative laugh spread to Duke, and as he laughs it makes you laugh even louder too and...You forget. 

For a moment you forget about your periods. The pain. The anguish. The emotional labor. This damn week of hell. 

You forget.

And you just laugh. 

You laugh alongside your son. 

Thomas (if you wonder who the H is Thomas, you can check my “Batmom” masterlists, he appears from the story “the great mall adventure” ^^)

Thomas must’ve been about four, when he first saw you having your periods. 

Your littlest baby was also one of the most sensitive out of them all (right along with Jason, the two of them cried their eyes out when they watched “Inside Out” and Bing Bong disappeared). Bruce always said he took that after you. And honestly, you couldn’t disagree. It’s true you could be very sensitive. 

So one morning, when he woke up and went to breakfast and heard you weren’t feeling right, he immediately went to you and...

Bruce found him an hour later, crying in his room. 

“Oh wow hey hey, what is it buddy ?” 

He asked, trying to hide the panic in his voice. Thomas might’ve been sensitive, but he rarely cried. He was just a very empathetic boy. But also a cheerful one, and he had a knack to see the good even in the worst situations. 

So seeing him sob like that, made Bruce’s heart drop. 

“Is mommy going to die ?!” 

It took Bruce a few seconds to get a hold of his racing heart. His son crying. And asking if you were going to die. It shortcircuited his brain for a few seconds. Until he realized what Thomas was talking about...

“Oh, oh no champ, no, mommy isn’t going to die.” 

Your kids were used to see you strong and fierce. Of course the first time your little one would see you on your period, he’d think something big was wrong.

He had just recently learned what death really mean (you can read about this here : The day he understand what Death means), and since then was so scared it’d happen to his parents. Or his siblings. Or anyone he knew, really... 

Picking up his son and slowly and softly tapping his back in soothing circles, he walked around the room and rocked him until the boy calmed down a bit, before trying to explain as best he could why mommy felt bad, without going in in too many details. 

Once Thomas understood this was just like when he got a fever that time, that it would pass, he felt much better. But also worst. Because his mommy wasn’t feeling well ! And it happened often ! 

Bruce reassured him that there were ways they could help you...And soooo : 

Thomas brought you hot water bottles, with the help of his dad (the bottles were almost as big as him), and ended up falling asleep  on one as it laid on your belly (he heard that humans’ body heat was very strong and wanted to “help the hot water bottle”). 

The water in the bottle became cold, and you removed it..Your son didn’t woke up, so you laid him back down on your belly. And he was warm and so tiny, and you loved him so much...It made you feel like the luckiest woman in the world, to be surrounded by people like this little one. 

And all your kids. Alfred. Your friends. Broosh...You fell asleep with sweet dreams made of warmth and cuddles. 

Not long after, Bruce came by to check on you, finding both you and Tommy deeply asleep and...An overwhelming feeling of happiness took him over. 

You weren’t the only one feeling lucky. Except for Bruce...For Bruce it was even stronger, because after his parents died, he never thought he would be happy ever again. 

This was why he’d always be there for you. You gave him another family... 

His schedule was freed, and he had a busy day. A nap sounded perfect. Especially while nestled against you, with his little one right there. 

Dick came by in the afternoon, and found all of you like this. Bruce holding both you and his son, Thomas taking way more space than such a small body would make you thing he’d take. 

Dick snapped a picture, and send it to the group chat he had with his siblings and some other close friends and such (like Clark, Wally, Conner, Diana etc etc they used the group chat to gossip about Bruce, mainly). With the caption : “Big bad bat tamed by a four year old”. 

Cass send multiple hearteyes emojis. Jason said it was adorable and send a crying emoji, and didn’t care one bit what anyone would think of him saying such things. Damian yelled at Dick that he should’ve put the comforter back up on his baby brother and mom because it wasn’t properly put on !! Duke send a : “I’m downloading that picture for the next time he gets mad at us and we need to soften him up”. Tim replied with a gif of Maes Hughes from Full Metal Alchemist saying : “dis dad”. Clark said “they look so peaceful, you wouldn’t believe he threatened me just yesterday to punch me because I made a joke” to which Diana answered : “that joke was so bad I wanted to punch you to. Cute pic btw, give kisses to Tommy for me, you should come see me more, I just stocked my freezer with nothing but ice creams”..Everyone send a little comment about it. 

Because even superheroes, could have normal conversations about those they love. 

Suffering alone is a thing of the past

It’s funny. You couldn’t even remember, now, what it felt like “before”. 

Before. 

Before you met Bruce.

Before that first time he showed up to your apartment to take care of you. 

How were your periods before that ? The worst. 

Definitely. 

Actual Hell.

Not that they were feeling better now. Oh no. There were time your overdramatic self exclaimed : “uuuugh just kill me alreadyyyy” when the pain was too grand...But you weren’t alone anymore. 

That’s what made it a bearable moment of the month. 

It still felt as bad as it used to when you were younger. 

But it wasn’t just you agonizing in your bedroom all alone anymore. 

It wasn’t you wishing you’d have someone to take care of you, and to try and ease the pain. Not anymore. 

It wasn’t you crying with nobody to dry your tears anymore...

No. You had an entire army of people right there just for you. 

Alfred, your children, and most of all...Bruce. 

Your Broosh. 

Ah. If only some people could see this side of him you and your family knew. The caring and loving one. In a way though, it was rather comforting and made you feel special, that only you and your kiddos knew the real Bruce ? 

Of course  nowadays, some of his closest friends like Clark and Diana weren’t fooled anymore either. But they’d never see him the way you did, when you were in unbearable pain, and he was right there, drawing soothing circle on your back, keeping you warm and safe... 

This was only privy to you. 

Your Broosh. 

Yes. 

Your periods were still as painful as they used to. But now...

Now you weren’t alone anymore. 

The end. 

________________________________________________

Hey guys ! I hope you liked this :). As usual, feedbacks and reblogs are always welcomed ! (Especially lately, the reblog ratio seems at its worst haha). And again, I really hope you liked this. I was finally able to sit down and write after weeks of  being stuck in a depressed mood, so I’m quite excited about sharing this. But as usual, always a bit nervous that you’ll be disappointed blahblahblah low self-esteem and all that haha... :). I just hope this is to your liking. Thank you.  

[amerrierworld]

I’m Not Jealous

request: more dom!daphne x reader? Thank you!

Summary: the press have seen you and Daphne together, but your relationship hasn’t been confirmed, so speculations are made. 

Characters: Daphne Kluger x fem!reader, a real-life actress cameo ;)

Word Count: 2,121

Warnings: SMUTTT. you know how this goes :) dom!daphne & jealousy!

“People are staring at you,” Daphne whispered in your ear as she wound an  arm around your waist, flashing a sweet smile at the cameras. 

“They’re looking at you,” you chuckled, pressing close to her. “It’s not every day  a big-wig celebrity is out shopping.”

“Hmph,” Daphne put her sunglasses back on, you following suit, before pulling you to the nearest restaurant. Your arms ached from the bags hanging off of your wrists.

“Table for two, please, pronto,” Daphne sighed, startling the host who was stacking some new menus. He was about to protest until he realized who was talking to him, and the cameramen pressed up against the front door windows, trying to get a good shot at the actress. 

There was a seat in the back, away from the windows, close to the kitchen where chefs were bustling and cooking relentlessly. You would be shielded here, even if just momentarily. 

“Daph.. this is a steakhouse.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Are you sure you wanna eat here? You told me you don’t like steakhouses, cause of your diet.”

“Do you want me to drag you out there again?” Daphne raised a sleek eyebrow at you, and you raised your hands in mock defeat. 

“Very well, m’lady.”

“This’ll have to do,” she skimmed through the menu, lips pursing as she read  through the options, “I’m starving after such a busy day.”

A day that had consisted of manicures and a shopping spree. Not that you were complaining, of course. 

Comfortable silence followed. Daphne picked at your side of fries as you ate, just like she always did, when suddenly your phone pinged. You ignored it.

Then it pinged again. And again. A series of text messages from friends and colleagues that read OMG and you sly devil! and other sorts of teasing, confusing texts.

You got a couple of fresh news article links, and intrigued, you opened some.

And then you nearly choked on your drink. Daphne, startled, quickly asked what’s wrong.

You coughed, “...People seem to think I’m involved with.. Anne Hathaway? What the hell?”

“Oh, really?” Daphne’s voice was light, but tense. You scrolled through your phone again, pictures of the other actress jogging your memory.

“Oh, yeah, cause I ran into her at that gallery last week! Remember? You had something to present, and you got me that extra ticket. I ended up sitting next to her in the audience when you were on.”

Daphne scoffed, “everyone knows Annie is straight. She’s got a kid too, for crying out loud.”

“Okay wait, this is hilarious though,” you mumbled around a mouthful of steak, “listen to this... Mystery gal seen in tow with Daphne Kluger a week after getting comfy with Anne Hathaway... Hathaway and Kluger: fighting over damsel?... serial heartbreaker or love birds?”

“What the hell?” Daphne bristled, nearly yanking the phone out of your hand, “I swear to god, tabloids are the absolute worst.”

“I think it’s funny. They don’t have any proof other than I’ve spent time with both of you. They don’t even know your sexuality, so what’s the worry?”

“Hmph,” Daphne chewed aggressively on one of your fries. They were almost all gone, and you had barely touched them.

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” Daphne snapped, and you suppressed a smile. “I hate how they feed lies into the media, that’s all. There’s always going to be people who believe them, too.”

“Yeah, but they don’t matter. I can call Anne right now and settle it? Maybe she can come join us for dinner sometime-”

“No! I- I mean.. let’s not. Let’s not bother her, right?” 

You reached over and grabbed her hand, and Daphne sighed, flicking her hair over her shoulder,

“Maybe I should just come out and tell them about us. I’m getting tired of this. They’re thinking that I stole you from her. When they should be worried about it happening the other way around.”

“You don’t think that’s actually going to happen, do you?” You asked, startling her. She hadn’t expected you to take what she said that way, and she was lost for words for a moment. 

“Come on, call your driver, we should go home,” you suggested, “I’m full anyways, aren’t you?”

-

“We didn’t even get to that shoe store downtown,” Daphne grumbled as you got inside her second city apartment safely. 

“I can call Hathaway,” you teased, smirking as you dumped the bags in the front hall, “she could get us in-”

A finger hooked in the collar of your shirt and pulled you backwards, Daphne catching you and pulling you close, hot breath wafting over your ear.

“Don’t say her name,” she growled. You wriggled your hips, trying to escape her grasp.

“So you are jealous?”

“No.” 

“You’re a great actress, Daph, but you can’t always hide-”

“Fine.”

Daphne pushed you forward until you were pressed against the kitchen counter. Her hands tugged at your shirt and pressed against the soft skin of your stomach. Your breath hitched.

“I am jealous. Alright? I’m so fucking jealous at the thought of all those people thinking you’re with her when you’re mine. And will always be mine.”

“Tell them, then,” you said, head tipping back onto her shoulder and your breath hoarse. “Let’s tell the world.”

“I suppose it’s about time, right?” Her hands grabbed your hips and she rolled hers against you with a slow, maddening pace. 

“Y-yeah,” you whimpered, because now she was sucking her neck. You could faintly see yourself in the reflection of the cupboard door glass, and dark lipstick was already smudging on your skin.

“You can tell them now, if you want,” Daphne’s voice was lilting, seductive, and your brain was trying to catch up with what she was saying.

“Now?”

“Yes. When I fuck you so hard that you’ll be screaming my name so loudly every paparazzi in town will hear it.”

You laughed, because Daphne was always so private with her sexual escapades, and you knew that would never happened. But you toyed with the idea in your mind briefly, just for fun.

The fantasy escaped you, however, when Daphne’s hands began pushing past your waistband.

“B-bedroom?” you pleaded.

Daph relented, but only briefly, to make sure you both watched your step as you got to the bedroom. 

You wanted to pull her dress off, but she tutted.

“Not so fast,” she whispered and you stilled. She pressed against your shoulders until your back hit the mattress and yanked your hands up above your head.

“Hng- wait- the clothes-,” you mumbled deliriously, distracted by her cleavage in her formfitting dress.

“Shush,” she said, as if scolding a child, “all in good time.”

She unclipped the belt that sat at her waist and created a rough resemblance to a pair of handcuffs that chained you to the headboard.

Then her hands pulled your shirt up, over your head, and bunched it around your wrists. The same happened with your bra. You felt their fabric wound around your hands and wrists, cushioning against the metal of the headboard. 

Daphne straddled you for a moment, the dress riding up until you cold see her lacy underwear peeking out from underneath. You felt your arousal coursing through your body now, and she raked her newly manicured fingers up your sides, making you shiver.

“If only they knew, hm?” she chuckled, tucking some stray hair behind her ear. She raised herself up on her knees, arms stretching to unzip her dress from behind, and slowly tugged it down. 

With every extravagant motion of a silver screen actress she deftly pushed her dress down, revealing her bra, breasts threatening to spill over, and you felt yourself salivate. 

Then she turned around, and you watched, gaping as she pulled the rest of her dress over her ass and down her long legs. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered, hips bucking up at the sight. You rubbed your thighs together, desperate.

Eventually, Daphne tossed the dress to the side and faced you again. She sat on your stomach, unabashedly grinding against your abdomen, her knees spread wide. 

“D-Daphne,” you gasped. She had pulled one cup of her bra down and was tugging at a rosy nipple. Her lower lip was caught by her teeth and she looked down at you with a grin.

“Need more, baby?” she asked, voice rough. You nodded, straining against the multiple things holding your hands together. Your pants felt unbearably tight now. You wanted her skin, wanted to feel her, your body heat suffocating you in the fabric.

“God, you look so needy,” she chuckled. “It makes me so wet, you know that?”

Her hand left her breast and pushed into her underwear, fingers immediately rubbing her clit as she rocked on top of you.

“N-not fair,” you whined, pressing up again, making her gasp softly.

“I’ll decide what’s fair,” she retorted, and her other hand snaked behind her to sneak past your own waistband and press snugly against your cunt.

Your voice came out in a choked cry. It felt nice- warm and wet and her long fingers rubbed vigorously, but it wasn’t enough. The fabric of your pants held her hand in place, in the wrong place, and she was obviously getting distracted by touching herself that you couldn’t get any proper friction.

You spread your legs as wide as possible, pushing her closer with your thighs and you wriggled for her attention. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked down at you and your pleading eyes.

“Not enough?” she asked, a finger slipping around your clit, but not touching where you needed it. You furiously shook your head, and she flashed her award-winning smile.

“That’s too bad then, isn’t it?”

She swiftly took off her underwear and before you knew it her cunt was settling over your face. You whined in protest as her hand left your pulsing clit and she fisted it in your hair instead. 

“Give me that tongue and maybe I’ll let you cum,” she gasped. 

She cooed soft praise as you followed through, tongue sliding out to suck and lick her wet skin desperately.

“Hungry, are we?” Daphne chuckled, her breath catching as you suckled at her clit. “Didn’t get enough at the steakhouse?”

You hummed in the back of your throat as you pushed your tongue deeply inside her and she groaned. Her milky thighs trembled and tensed at the sides of your head and she pressed closer to you.

You breathed in heavily through your nose, catching her sweat and arousal and bucked your own hips in response.

Taking pity, Daphne’s hand slipped back behind her, clumsily nudging your pants away until her fingers roughly found your cunt and pushed inside of you. You whined against her cunt, your pace stuttering for a moment.

“Don’t slack off,” she said, her other hand tugging at your hair in reprimand. Your fingers twitched and tensed above you, wishing you could touch her. 

She slipped her bra off completely as she rocked on your face. Her hand pressed deeply inside of you, wriggling and nudging against your front walls with strong fingers. 

“Make me cum,” she ordered breathily, her hips stuttering, and you pressed your tongue against her clit until she gushed into your mouth, sweet and intoxicating. Her soft, high-pitched groans contrasted with the iron grip she had on your cunt. 

Now that she had nothing else to focus on her hand picked up a sure pace. She lifted off of your face to let you breathe, only for you to gasp and beg,

“Please- please, please please..”

Daphne chuckled, two fingers pinching and rolling the hood over your clit, and you were done for.

You felt sweat and slick sliding down the inside of your thighs and she kept rubbing lightly as your orgasm rushed over you. Your abdomen convulsed and shivered through the sensations until your senses could return to normal and you saw Daphne staring at you lovingly from above.

Her hands reached forward and tugged the restraints off of your wrists. You felt blood rush back to your arms as they dropped by your sides, but you were too distracted by sucking and kissing her breasts hanging so close to your face to notice.

Daphne squealed as you nipped her skin and cradled your head closely before pulling you up for a deep kiss.

“Love you,” you mumbled against her lips. 

“I know,” she muttered, making you chuckle. Her hands worked the rest of your clothes off and then she laid down by your side, stretching like a cat, a leg hooking over yours as she kissed your face.

The shopping bags remained unpacked in the front hall for the rest of the night.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it.  he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that.  so happy ❤️ 

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story.  Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.  

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes?  Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him.  Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard.  ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’).  But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’  a source close to the couple reported.  

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.  

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’ 

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right.  To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar. 

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.  

Is this the best she thinks she can do?  So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer. 

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate.  From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship.  Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson??  I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea.  “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious.  “People are really obsessed with you two��”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second.  He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment.  “I haven’t talked to him in… years?  I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it.  And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other.  But he has his own problems.  I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl.  You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him.  “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first.  Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name.  And I’m not perfect.  Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly.  “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries.  When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away.  “Don’t read the comments, okay?  None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well.  In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care.  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously?  I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words.  “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing.  I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured.  “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it?  Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted.  "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

//

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head.  In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized.  What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker.  “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway.  BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door.  Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face.  “Are you—?’

“Hungry?  Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk.  “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified.  “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you!  Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl.  “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space.  “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked.  “And not just with random delivery drivers.  I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough 

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!”  You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained.  “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen?  By people?” 

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes.  “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened.  “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked.  “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning.  “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed.  “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off.  “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought.  “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.  

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do.  I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled.  “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky.  “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table.  “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already.  I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb.  I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you.  I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek.  “I think so, too.”

//

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress.  “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant?  You’re still paying me,” he reminded you.  “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff.  You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided.  “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard?  Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever.  As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress.  Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet.  It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

[wiypt-writes]

Guilty As Charged

Guilty As Charged: Bucky Barnes One Shot

Summary: Defence Attorney James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is the absolute bane of your life…

Pairing: Lawyer AU Bucky Barnes x Reader (Frenemies!)

Warnings: Bad language words.

Word Count- Under 2k

A/N:  This was originally posted on my old blog ages ago, but I’ve just given it a little polish and thought, seeing as I’m on the Bucky Train at the moment, I’d bring it back. Also, my knowledge on US Criminal Law is sketchy at best, so humour me…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist // Main Masterlist

*******

In God We Trust, the words set about the Judge’s podium were fixed in your vision, motes of dust moving freely in the rays of sunlight which were streaming through the large, ornate windows of the court room and you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, concentrating on expelling the nerves you were feeling with the air that left your mouth and lungs.

No matter how many times you were in this position, the reading of the verdict still got to you. Your gaze turned to the jury, as the judge did the same, that all important question ringing across the room, the air stiflingly tense.

“On the charge of murder in the first degree, do you find the defendant or not guilty"

“Not guilty.”

Fuck.

Cheers from the defendants family drowned out your loud groan as you rubbed at your temple. Looking over at your colleague, Sam, you shook your head in utter disbelief.

The judge continued through the remaining charges, second-degree murder and voluntary manslaughter, and your despair grew as the same verdict was returned for each.

You’d lost. And it stung, not merely because of your near perfect conviction rate, but for the family of the victim you were one-hundred percent convinced the accused.

"Y/N this wasn't your fault.” Sam stated in a low voice but you simply sighed again and shrugged.

"I was sure they'd see through his lies,” you glanced over to your right where the defence team, headed up by James Buchanan Barnes of Barnes and Rogers Law firm were shaking hand with each other and their defendant. Barnes' face was arranged in the usual smug look that you always had the urge to slap right off it. His partner, Steve, glanced over at you and gave you a genuine, sympathetic smile.

He’s always the most courteous out of the two, the one you actually didn’t mind dealing with when it came to cases.

"He fucking did it Y/N," Sam's voice was almost a growl, "I know he did."

"Well in the eyes of the law he didn’t." You stated, standing up.

The commotion continued behind you, as the defendant was told he was free to go. Making sure to keep your head down, you hastily shuffled your papers back into their respective files and packed your briefcase up. Picking up your jacket, you shrugged it on, smoothing down pencil skirt before you head to leave the courtroom before Barnes can pipe up with his usual smart ass quips. But you're not quite fast enough. "Commiserations Miss Y/LN, can't win em all." The familiar Brooklyn drawl hit your ears.

"Buck," Steve sighed "c'mon pal..."

You grit your teeth. You know you shouldn't rise to it, but you just can’t help it. The man is an utter jack ass in the courtroom. Spinning to face him, you shot him your best contemptuous glare, the one you always reserve for those people you really cannot stand, and looked at him like he was something you'd just trodden in.

"You know Barnes, there is such a thing as being gracious in victory as well as defeat." "Defeat?” He asked, looking at Steve with a puzzled expression on his face, “no, not sure what that is." "Eat shit.” You mumbled before turning to Sam who was stood behind you, watching the exchange. You nod to him and the two of you continued up the aisle towards the exit. The victim's family were congregated outside and all at once the start barraging you with questions.

"How did that happen?"

"You said it was a cert he would go down!”

"What about a private prosecution?”

You sighed and turn to look at them, you were exhausted. "I'm sorry.” You shook your head. “That new evidence that his attorney submitted, it was just threw too much of a doubt into the juries mind..." you held your hand up to gently silence them. “If you're serious about a private prosecution then I can meet you next week to discuss and put you in touch with a few people but I’m sorry, as far as the State’s involvement goes…I can’t do anymore."

Escaping as quickly as you could, you and Sam headed back to your office. After a short meeting with your boss, the District Attorney, who was as pissed as you were that the prosecution had failed, you emerged feeling twice as tired and battered as you had when you’d left the courtroom.

As Sam stated, there was only one thing left you could do. Drink alcohol. A lot of alcohol.

It was a short walk to your preferred bar, having decided to abandon your car and collect it in the morning. You were going to get drunk. Really drunk. "Hey Y/N, hey Sam." Clint, the bar tender greeted you. “I hear it wasn't a great day.” You looked up and saw he was pointing to the TV behind the bar. It was on a news channel, focussing on a report from earlier that afternoon which wasn’t surprising. The case had thrown up huge public interest ever since the body of the teenage girl has been found in the alleyway in Queens. The defendant confessed but somehow, the new evidence submitted was an alleged recording that the defence had gotten their hands on as proof the confession was taken under duress. If you were being totally honest, you had to admit that it didn't sound great, the officer did seem to be leaning heavily on the defendant, but the other evidence was, no, IS overwhelming.

But all it needed was that little seed of doubt, which the defence sowed expertly, and the jury couldn't convict. And now, thanks to Barnes and Rogers, specifically Barnes, in your mind a dangerous killer was walking free. As you stared at the television, you saw Barnes on the screen with the defendant, all smiles and Steve at his side. Barnes greeted the press with a raised hand. "Clint turn it over man." Sam almost pleaded and Clint shot you both a sympathetic look, before he pointed the remote at and flicked the report over to a mundane, late afternoon game show. You ordered 2 beers, and then settled at the bar on one of the tall chairs, crossing your bare, heeled legs as you and Sam began to dissect the case. You couldn’t help it, you always did this, analyse where you went wrong or right.

The pair of you got that enthralled in your discussions, that before you know it, it was an hour lager and you're now four beers deep... and Sam was fielding an angry phone call from his wife, Natasha. "I gotta go, boss." He sighed, apologetically, “it’s my little girl’s dance recital at six and if I miss this one, Nat’s gonna hang me out to dry!” You waved his explanation off. “Its fine, Sam. Oh, and take the morning tomorrow. That case has had us working all hours and I don’t intend on being there till lunch. Clint, gimme a bourbon please?" "Don't let Barnes get to you.” Sam sighed. “You know what he is like" "Smug, arrogant and annoyingly self-righteous.” You nodded. “Yup, I got it.” Sam smiled and dropped a friendly kiss to your cheek. "See you later." Clint slid the glass of bourbon over to you and you smiled before pulling out your phone to check a few emails and your social media. You were just reading through an article about a Billionaire in Manhattan who had designed some kind of metal suit that allowed him to fly (because that's gonna end well), when a familiar voice broke your concentration. "Can I buy you a drink?" You rolled your eyes and looked up at Bucky Barnes as he leaned on the bar, still in his suit, although he had dispensed of his black and white tie, and opened his top button. This was another thing you hated about him. He is utterly gorgeous. Like GQ cover gorgeous, especially in his sharp suits and silk ties.

And he fucking knows it, too. "Depends." You shrugged, throwing back the remainder of your bourbon. "Does it come with a side helping of irritating smugness?" He chuckled. "I'm off duty, Doll so no."

"In that case I'll have another Monkey Shoulder." You slid the empty glass back to Clint. "Take it you're not driving home?" Barnes asked, his azure eyes running over your bare legs. "Well if I do and I get caught, I'm sure you can get me off any charges.” You replied sharply, shooting him a look that made it clear you caught him eyeing you up. And it isn't the first time either. That's another reason you clash so much in the courtroom. Sexual tension. Fucking jerk. He barked out a laugh "You're really not happy with me are you?" "Not particularly." You shook your head, thanking Clint as he pushed the now full glass back to you, with a small wink. It's a double, you noticed. That should set Barnes back a bit. Bucky reached for his beer and after a pull he looked directly at you. "Come work for me." He said and you groaned.

Not this again. "I'm a prosecutor." You rolled your eyes. "Not a defence attorney. I told you that last time you asked. And the time before, and the time before that." "I'm nothing if not persistent." He winked, turning in his stool so he was facing you. "Besides, I can teach you the ways of the dark side." "You’d love that wouldn't you?" You snort. "Oh, Sweetheart you have no idea." He leaned forward slightly, his elbow on the bar and this time he is blatantly staring at the flash of skin that was showing above the buttons on your blouse. "My face is up here, ass hole." With a smirk he raised his deep, blue eyes and they locked onto yours. Despite yourself, you feel your breath hitch slightly. Dammed him and his sex appeal. "Why are you always this insufferable?" You eventually tore your gaze away from his and picked up your drink, glancing up at the TV as an excuse not to look at him. "Ah come on Y/N, don’t be like that." He reached out to squeeze your hand which was resting on the back of the tall chair you were sat in. "We could make a great team..." You raised an eyebrow and looked at him. "Professionally.” He added, his eyes not leaving yours as he took another large drink of his beer, and you pulled your hand away from under his. "I'd kill you within five minutes of us being in the same office." You glared at him as you took another sip from your drink. He chuckled and eyed you again, “to be fair I'm not sure Stevie would be able to function with a beautiful dame such as yourself in close proximity. He still flusters around any woman that isn’t his Peggy.” "That's because Steve is a happily married man." "So am I." He shot back. Ah yes, Mrs Barnes… "Your wife deserves a medal. She must have the patience of a fucking saint to put up with you." You said into your glass. "I have other hidden qualities which mean she's prepared to overlook my slightly less favourable personality traits." He quipped, and you looked back to see that lopsided grin on his face that flips your stomach. Behave Y/N. "They must be very hidden." You mused, and he let out another loud laugh.   "You're killing me, Doll.” "Good." You drained your glass. The liquid burnt your throat and you could feel the effects of the alcohol from the last few hours as your brain started to hum. You looked at Barnes who was watching you, his eyes shining with all the cheekiness of a teenage boy and you know you need to leave before you do something stupid.

Like snogging his dumb, handsome face off. "I think it's time I got going." You said simply, standing up. Barnes gave a nod, draining his bottle. “Yeah I should be making tracks too. Wife to see to, you know how it is.” You stood and he did the same, and you realised he was holding up your jacket, ready for you to slide your arms into. Narrowing your eyes slightly at his sudden chivalry, you couldn’t help the small smile that flickered across your face as you turned and allowed him to help you into it. His hands dropped to your shoulders and he span you round gently and smiled with those perfect teeth, a smile that lit up his beautiful face, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "Lead the way Mrs Barnes.” He instructed softly, dropping a tender kiss to your lips. "You know it's a good job I love you,” you smiled, sliding your arms up round his neck. "Yeah, I know." "Although right now I'm struggling to remember why." "Well, when we get home I'll just have to show you some of those hidden qualities I was talking about, see if they help jog your memory.” You bit your lip slightly at the dark flash of desire that flit across his eyes, and you leant up to brush your lips across his stubbled jawline. "Unanimous verdict,” your voice drops slightly as you pull back and he smirked again, “guilty as charged.” You tossed Clint a good bye, linked your hand into your husband’s and he walked you outside into the brisk wind, his arm pulling you close, his lips pressed a soft kiss to your temple. Yeah, James Buchanan Barnes might be an insufferable, arrogant ass hole in the courtroom, but outside it he's simply your Bucky.

[kuroyukihime]

Bakugo x Reader: Choose Me [Pt. 1]

[LOTS OF ERROR; TO BE REVISED]

“HEADLINE: PRO HERO – DYNAMIGHT ANNOUNCES HIS MARRIAGE”

It was fucking news to everyone, heck even the No.1 Pro Hero busted through his office doors demanding an explanation. It was so out of the blue as the picture of him together with another girl at a restaurant, with him reaching out touching the woman’s cheek spread like wildfire all over the internet. No one knew he had been dating, no one even knew he was interested in others. Literally everyone thought… Bakugo Katsuki was after you. You who had been there for him since high school, never in his personal space but always was with him, never failing him and was always doing your best to be there for him whether he needed you or not. You always did your best not to let your feelings get known specifically to him, so when others noticed him warming up to you and then inviting you to his agency (which he was just planning on having and building) right after fucking graduation and then the event where the villain almost had you and he literally went full murder mode just to retrieve you, everyone thought for sure you guys were going to end up together. So—

“Kacchan!” Slamming his palm on Midoriya’s face, Bakugo gritted his teeth “You’re way too close, you damn nerd!”

“Bakugo-kun! What is this? Is this true?” Uraraka asked, showing him the article on her phone

“Ha? What part of it do you not understand, Round cheeks? It’s exactly what’s written there!” He growled

“But… Not even we know you were going out, you’re always at work!” Kirishima reasoned

“AH! SO ANNOYING! GET OUT OF MY CASE YOU IDIOTS! IT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT MEANS! NOW FUCK OFF!” He snapped, gritting his teeth in frustration

“Katsuki!” A voice called out to him from behind, everyone’s attention turned to you as you simply smiled, holding your phone close to your chest. The way you were gripping it tight didn’t go unnoticed by many, especially Bakugo

“Congratulations!” You grinned and Bakugo just stared at you for a second before scoffing and looking to the side

“Yeah… Whatever…”

The silence that followed was thick but no one knew what to say. Still true to your role however, you were still his sidekick, and his second in command of the agency. You still had work to do.

“Ah that’s right minna! It’s still noon, you shouldn’t be flooding here unless you have businesses to attend to! Back to your agencies you go!” You ushered them out

Please. No more gazes of pity. Please get out. Or else… I won’t make it through…

“(Name)-san…” Midoriya looked at you with concern in his eyes as you slowly closed the door of Bakugo’s office. Standing there in front of everyone, you took a deep breath and hardened your smile. You needed to make it. Just until the end of the day… please

“We can talk later… For now, you guys have work” You bid them all goodbye “I’ll see you later”

Without even giving them a chance to reply, you retreated back to Bakugo’s office, unintentionally slamming the door harder than expected

“Oi”

You visibly flinched when he called out to you. You really weren’t in the mood to talk to him, more or less stand to be in the same room as him. You could feel yourself starting to break little by little

“Whoops sorry, didn’t mean to slam that harder than intended. Oh by the way, you haven’t done your patrol yet, right?” You laughed, going over to your desk and rearranging the papers “I can take over the shift for you, I need some fresh air anyways” You said and by the time you finished talking you were already out the door

Bakugo glanced at the huge open windows lined up in his office room, literally placed right behind where his office desk stood parallel to

“Fresh air my ass” He grumbled

EARLIER THAT DAY…

“HA?! AIN’T NO WAY I’M DOING THAT SHIT! GO DIE!”

“B-but Dynamight! The aristocrat’s daughter is in danger! The only way we can catch the villain that has been stalking her is if we announce a public wedding!” The higher ups tried to reason with him

“THEN FIND ANOTHER RICH ASSHOLE FOR THIS SHIT OR BETTER YET SET CCTVs OR HERO AND BODYGUARDS ON STAND-BY TO GUARD THE BITCH! FUCKING THINK!”

“A-ah, we’ve already set those up, but we need a pro hero on her side since the initiation will surely happen at the wedding and the daughter specifically requested you to guard her!”

He honestly feels disgusted by that information

Keh! Bitch is a fan, fucking great

Then again, this was a huge group of villains they’re talking about. Sighing in annoyance, he eventually agreed. Now, how was he going to explain this—

“Ah by the way, Dynamight, you can’t speak a word about this to anyone. The villains have a member that can camouflage and has another that has intense hearing from miles away. Strictly not a word until the mission is done”

BACK TO PRESENT…

A ring coming from his phone brought him back to reality. He fished his phone out from his pocket and looked at who had texted him.

“Father said we should meet up at X Restaurant, see you there <3”

Staring at the door where he last saw your retreating figure, Bakugo took a deep breath and shouted in frustration

“FUCKING SHIT!”

At your part, jumping from roof to roof, you tried your best to do the patrol as diligent as possible. You needed to clear your mind as well. This ugly, painful feeling stirring up a storm inside of you made you clench your fist in frustration. It’s your fault for expecting so much, your fault for reading the signs wrong and it was your fault for loving a person who promised you nothing. Letting the tears finally drop, you silently cried at the rooftop alone. You had no idea how long you were crying however, even this time of wallowing wasn’t given to you by fate because after a few minutes, you heard distant crying and screams and as the sun was setting, you squinted your eyes, noticing something from the distance before the villain charged straight at you.

You seethed through the pain of your body hitting the floor of the rooftop with such force as the villain loomed down on you. Ah fuck, those were going to leave bruises. Summoning your weapon, you roughly grabbed the Villain’s foot and shoved him out of the way.

“I’m kinda in a bad mood… Sorry” You muttered, charging straight after the villain

As usual, the news were already on your tail. The villain provided quite a bit of a fight, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. Plus, with the negative emotion fuelling you, it wasn’t long before the villain finally gave himself up in exchange for his life. When the news reporter asked for an interview, you simply turned and ignored them. You can’t have cameras up in your face this time, everyone will notice the puffy eyes. However, your cold actions startled everyone. You were known as the kind one between your duo, while the Pro Hero Dynamight was as brash as he can be, you were always the one the media counted to speak in his behalf. Always smilling, always having such a warm aura. The usual welcoming hero-type.

Returning back to the agency, you honestly didn’t even think about getting your wounds treated first. Honestly speaking, you didn’t even notice you had small wounds. Though they were only scratches, it still needed to be disinfected. It was only when Kirishima stated it with slight panic in his voice that you noticed.

“Ah! (Name)! Why didn’t you go to the hospital to get that treated?”

You smiled, as hard as it was, you tried your best “There’s really nothing to worry about, I can just treat this with First Aid”

You retreated to the locker rooms and got the first aid, silently mending your wounds alone until a loud knock came from outside

“Oi”

Taking a deep breath, you stood up, the bandage still wrapped loosely on your forearms and answered the door. Putting on another fake smile, you grinned

“Yo!”

“Don’t fucking Yo me, get out here, look how shitty those bandages are wrapped around you. You wanna get infected?” Bakugo nagged

“Ah! No it’s fine—“

His glares made you shut up and simply comply with his request. He dragged you towards inside the office and made you sit on his chair

“Wh—“

“Tch stop fucking complaining and seat, dammit”

The way he handled your wounds with utmost care, like you were such a fragile being, made you want to cry again. Soon, another woman will experience this. You weren’t special to him. Maybe you were, but not in the sense you wanted. Much like Kirishima and the others, you were simply a dear friend to him.

Just a friend

His phone suddenly started ringing, you wouldn’t notice it but Bakugo felt his blood turn cold. He knew exactly who was calling. He immediately snatched his phone before you could take a peek who the Caller ID was.

Sighing loudly, Bakugo answered the call

“What? I told you never to call me unless it’s an emergency, right?” He snarled

“You’re mean Katsuki-n, I’m already at the restaurant! Where are you?”

You dreaded to hear that overly sweet voice, it made you want to throw up, further more apparently Bakugo had a date, what the heck was he doing taking his time with you then? Slowly standing up from the office chair, Bakugo’s other hand slammed on the sidearm of it, trapping you. His glare was on-point again. You wondered what was he so pissed off about? Pouting slightly, you sunk back to the chair

“I’m still doing shit, who told you be there so damn early?! Also I told you not to call me by my first name! WE'RE NOT FUCKING CLOSE”

Your eyes widened a bit, a little bit of pride welling up inside you as you remembered how in their meet ups, Bakugo would always be there earlier than you and how he had no problem whatsoever when one day the way you called him suddenly changed from Bakugo to Katsuki

“Eh? More important than me?”

Unconsciously, Bakugo licked the upper part of his lips as his gaze went to you, staring at the reports on his desk completely unaware of his eyes. He smirked

“Damn right bitch, a lot more important than you”

Your eyes widened, eyes immediately meeting his. You were about to retort but his hands were quick on your mouth

“Anyways, I’ll fucking be there in an hour, don’t be fucking annoying”

With that, Bakugo hung up, not even waiting for the girl to reply. He removed his hand from your mouth.

“Don’t fucking talk, I’m gonna be found out”

You looked to the side, unable to meet his gaze, the blush spreading like wildfire on your face.

“You have no delicacy, Katsuki” You commented and Bakugo couldn’t help but chuckle

“What the heck did you expect from me?” He paused for a bit “Work comes first”

And just like that, your new budding hope was crushed. Of course… Even you were considered a load to him.

“There, done, next time I’m coming with you on patrols” He said, standing up and walking away from you, carrying the first aid with him “Go home”

You felt despair. This bitter feeling was becoming too much now. You stood up and hurried out, going straight for the locker room and changing out of your hero clothes. You wanted to go home as soon as you can. Everything was piling up and it was becoming too much for her to handle.

Next time I’m coming with you on patrols

You gritted your teeth. First the marriage, then he suddenly doubts your strength to do things alone. Slowly… everything you’d ever done to build a good relationship with Bakugo was slowly crumbling. Grabbing your bag, you ran out of the building, ignoring Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari’s shout of concern.

On the other locker room, Bakugo was cherishing the feel of your lips on his hand, bringing it close to his mouth, he tried to feel as much as he can from the past sensation. He heard the others calling out your name so he went outside to see what the commotion was, only to find the entrance door sliding to close

“What’re you idiots yelling at?”

“Ah, (Name) suddenly ran outside, she seemed like in a real hurry, I mean she didn’t even bid goodbye to us like she always does” Sero explained and Bakugo just stood there before staring at his hand and clenching it.

You didn’t even bother waiting for him like you always do

Hell finish this mission as fast as he can before he loses you.

At the train, on the walk home, you kept your head hung low until you’ve reached your apartment. Closing the door, your body slid down on the door as you finally, finally let everything out. So much had happened in one day that it was too much for you.

Bakugo Katsuki was going to get married… not to you

Another woman will be on the receiving end of his affections… not yo

He’s beginning to doubt your skills… that’s on you

You cried and cried, not caring about anything else in the world. You kept at it until your body gave up and eventually you fell asleep on the entrance. You had a short unpleasant dream however, it was a dream where Bakugo kept walking forward and no matter how much you ran, how much you yell out his name, he didn’t stop, he didn’t even look at you, it was like you weren’t even there, but when another woman was right behind you, unable to walk by herself, Bakugo turned around and past by you, carrying the girl in his arms, laughing and smiling without a care in the world as he left you behind once more.

You woke up from then on, feeling your entire body cold as a result of sleeping at the entrance. You didn’t bother standing up yet though. Your mind was too busy rethinking the dream. You clenched your hands near your chest and gritted your teeth as another wave of tears threatened to spill.

You’ve decided.

For the first time, you were going to kill these feelings and stand by his side as one of his best friends. You’ll take what you can. You’ll kill it over and over again, no matter how many times if it means you’ll be with him longer. It pains to admit it, but you feel like you can’t continue working under him if you let your one-sided feelings continue and you can’t have that. You can’t bear it, thinking of living a life without Bakugo in it, atleast as a friend and a sidekick, you will still be there at his side. You just need to be there by his side… Be satisfied with that…

“…Atleast… let me be selfish one last time… before I kill off this feelings” You muttered, feeling sleep overcome you

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

city lights, pretty sights || tom holland x reader

a/n: hello again! so i was completely overwhelmed by the lovely response my first tom holland mini fic/imagine/blurb thing received from you guys. and i had a couple more ideas so decided to keep going and see what you all think. once again - i hope you guys are liking these, let me know if you are and if you wanna have a chat about anything tom related - hmu, I'd love to chat! 

word count: 1673 warning: none (that i can remember anyways) summary: wandering through nyc late at night still in your premiere outfits; pizza, piggy back rides and cute scenes

“What’s your thoughts on pizza?” 

You nuzzle closer into the side of the figure next to you, feeling them guiding and supporting you along the path as you walk together. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t holding on a little tighter than normal. Looking up to him you grinned, hair falling out of the loose style it’d been sitting in all night, the bouncy curls now framing your face, “I love pizza.” You could feel the presence of Tom’s security, walking a little further back giving you both some space, but still close enough that if anything at all happened, they’d be there to get you both home. You approach a tiny little hole-in-the-wall takeaway pizzeria, Tom pulling himself behind you, keeping hold of your hand as you walked through the tiny entrance. “Two slices of your pepperoni pizza please?!” you ask, grabbing a couple dollars from inside your bag and handing it over to the man. the place was empty. “Ay, 2 minutes!” You thank him and lean back slightly, now bracing yourself against Tom as he wraps both his arms around your waist and tucks his chin into your neck. sweeping a couple tiny kisses below your ear. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?” he whispers, brushing some hair behind your ear with his nose. “Only every single time you’ve looked at me,” you laugh, “It’s not every day I have make-up artists and dresses delivered to me. But I think you’ll find it’s me who can’t keep her eyes off of you. You were amazing tonight, y’know?” He hums into your bare shoulder, your body vibrating against his touch. Tonight was crazy; and you still couldn’t quite believe that it wasn’t all just some very elaborate dream. You had been making breakfast a couple days ago for you both, spoiling Tom now that he was back in London fresh off his press tour. You had come into the bedroom to tell him everything was ready when he pulled you down onto the bed and into his chest, gently asking if he could bring you as his plus one to his premiere in New York. The days that followed were crazy. Some designers had sent some dresses once they were told Tom was bringing a plus one, all eager to be the first to dress ‘her’. It was overwhelming to say the least. You were brought back from your memory by a saucy pizza aroma, your stomach reacting after now realising how long it had been since you’d eaten. You’d been so nervous all day, and everything was so stressful this morning...this pizza couldn’t come faster. Aside from your rumbling tummy, there was another big reason why neither of you had wanted to go straight home after the premiere. You hadn’t looked at your phones yet. Nor did you particularly want to. You knew the media would have been chomping at the bit to release the photos and articles of Tom and his ‘mystery girl’ - you were making the most of your normality with him before it was all blown to smithereens. Before you could dwell on that thought any longer, two slices of thick NYC pizza wrapped in napkins atop paper plates slid across the counter towards you. Tom unwound his arms from around your body and you both grabbed your slices before giving your thanks and leaving the pizzeria with a jingle of the bell above the door. //// You finished the last few bites of your pizza, leaving the crust before throwing it into the nearest bin. The city lights were glittering, cars still lining the streets despite the late hour. It definitely was the city that never sleeps and you loved it here. Despite it being hot and sticky all day, a cold wind had picked up and the material of your dress wasn’t exactly the warmest. Tiny little goosebumps has appeared on your arms, the little hairs standing up straight. “You wanna head back? It’s getting cold,” tom asked, he shuffled himself out of his burgundy suit jacket and held it open for you to put your arms in before sliding it up and over your shoulders, enveloping you. “-Or we can call a car here?” he continued. You had stopped where you stood, just at one of the entrances to central park. “We can have a car come in about 15 minutes if you want to take a little stroll about the park, Tom?” His security guard had noticed the lack of movement and had come over to see if either of you needed his assistance. “That sounds great, thank you!” you called, refusing to let this day end just yet. “Thank you for today, the paparazzi and the media and all the shouting. It’s a lot to deal with. Would put many off, but you handled it like a complete pro. We did the right thing didn’t we?” Tom asked, keeping his eyes forward to the grassy path lined with trees. “Hey. Look at me.” You turn him to face you, the lamplights highlighting his eyes as they trained themselves onto you, “I knew what I was getting myself into, and no amount of press or media stunts are gonna ruin this. No way. We’ll deal with it - as long as you want to keep making these films, I’ll support you. through the good and the bad, right?” He shifts on his feet, slightly uncomfortable with the conversation. His lifestyle had gotten in the way of his relationships before, you knew that. and Tom felt deeply about the people he loved. It was partly why you loved him and a reason why you’d both agreed to keep you out of the limelight for a while. You knew he was giving you a get out of jail free card. A reason to leave if you needed it. “I’m in this. I promise,” you reassured him. Youu bring your hands up to his face, caressing his cheek slightly, brushing the curls out of his face with your hand, “Since when did you get so soppy anyway?” “What can I say...it’s part of the charm!” you saw that twinkle jump back into his eyes, his playful energy taking centre stage pushing the tiredness, vulnerability and fear to the back of his mind. You continued to walk through the park a little, still within eyeshot of the entrance, careful not to wander too far. Enjoying each other’s company in a peaceful section of this intense city. At that moment, in classic NYC style, the heavens opened up and a heavy rainstorm thundered into the ground. The pair of you started laughing, the rain catching you both slightly as you took cover under one of the trees lining the pathway. You noticed Tom’s security waving you over, your car was here and the stretch from where you were both sheltered under the tree to the entrance was fully open. “Right, hop on!” You look at Tom confused as he squats down slightly, his arms held out behind him. Gathering up your dress slightly, you grip onto his shoulders, count down from 3 and hop onto his back, wrapping your legs around his waist and linking your arms around his shoulders and neck, clinging on with your face pressed into his hair. “Go go go!” You burst out laughing as he makes a beeline for the car, the rain pelting down on the both of you, completely soaking the pair of you to the bone. Your hair whipped around your face and you could hear Tom laughing as he ran, you couldn’t help but join in. You closed your eyes, tilted your head up and let it hit you for a moment, you were by far the luckiest girl in the world. You’d reached the car before you knew it, Tom gently lowered you back to the ground as you hopped back off - keeping your dress off the ground in the hopes not to ruin it completely. Opening the car door and ducking your head in, you slid across the seats, Tom on your heels. “Well, that was unexpected.” Tom looked at you, his full curls plastered to his head - shirt dripping, and burst out laughing, “I love you but you look like a raccoon.” You playfully hit on him on the shoulder before bursting into laughter yourself, “Oh shut up. ” //// Tom was, as expected, trending on all social media the next day. Articles and photos of his past relationships and rumoured romances brought to the surface as your red-carpet photos together came to light. However, the press hadn’t caught the best photos of the night at all.

In amongst all the posed pictures, two slightly blurry but still recognisable photos were moving their way across the internet. One taken by a fan through the window and across the road from the pizzeria - of Tom cuddling you from behind as you leaned back into him dressed in gown and tux. And another, of you with your head back, hair wild, laughing and Tom carrying you on his back, floppy and curly hair, massive grin and eyes crinkling at the sides - taken by another fan, you suspected. As gorgeous as the media pics were, you knew behind them was stress and nervousness from both parties, and you couldn’t help the feeling in your stomach that someone had managed to capture both of you completely natural and free, enjoying yourselves and each other on such a monumental day for both Tom and for your relationship. You liked and saved both the pictures before hearing the click of your phone locking shut as you placed it back on the bedside table. Rolling over you curled yourself behind Tom before he shifted himself onto his back, arm sliding under your shoulders and shifting you into his side. You close your eyes as he presses a sleepy kiss to your forehead and you let yourself finally relax - completely and utterly content.

[whumpster-fire]

Something I haven’t really seen talked about in the His Dark Materials fandom (for all the like 2-1/2 weeks I’ve been here) but I think would definitely be a thing is Pre-Settling Anxiety.

Like, that story that sailor tells Lyra about the guy whose daemon settled as a dolphin and was never able to go ashore at all, and how he just more or less goes “Well if your daemon settles in a form you don’t like that sucks, but that’s life deal with it?” Lyra and Pan didn’t pay it that much mind because (a) they’re pretty darn resilient kids, and (b) they had a lot more immediate things occupying their minds.

But seriously... imagining pre-teen me, growing up in a world with daemons, Jesus Christ hearing shit like that would have traumatized me, and any living manifestation of my fucking soul would have been traumatized by that too, and I doubt I’d have been anywhere near the only one.

Because... I mean I’m still like this now but I’ve gotten better about it as an adult: when I was a kid I was not someone who just accepted that things were the way they were, I was someone who hyperfixated and worried. And not just about big stuff like climate change and politics and smaller but still out of my control shit like health issues and bad things happening to my family. I was scared of growing up, and not just in the sense of not wanting to have adult responsibilities and all that.

I remember, not so much when I was actually going through puberty (by then I was just depressed), but I remember in the years before, when I was being told that I would be changing soon, and of course not in a way that acknowledged that asexuality wasn’t just something you grew out of, and being exposed to the American media landscape of, like, old “teen” movies and other that portrayed puberty and adult sexuality in a really twisted, hypersexualized way that I don’t think was even accurate for the vast majority of allosexual people, I was afraid and repulsed. And not even in a Mrs. Coulter way: I was afraid on a deep, existential level that growing up would destroy the person who I was and I would become someone I didn’t like, someone I wasn’t comfortable with.

And growing up with a daemon would have made that so much worse, because then it wouldn’t have just been a fear of losing my identity and being unhappy with who I was, it would have been a fear of being unhappy with the one being I wasn’t unhappy with half the time, the one being who actually truly understood me and that I could always trust, and it’s not that humans and their daemons can’t argue or fight or be angry at each other - and God knows we probably would - but I think we’d have been the pair who had screaming matches and threaten each other’s lives knowing damn well what that meant, but could never stay angry at each other because the idea of losing that bond, of having it damaged, would be too terrifying.

So the idea of my daemon settling as a form that damaged that bond, that pushed us apart or limited us, would be such a huge source of anxiety. And that fear of becoming something I didn’t like, of not knowing and not being able to choose and not being able to control my self, is such a deep-seated part of me that I don’t believe for a second that my daemon wouldn’t be the same way.

We wouldn’t be like Jerry the sailor and Belisaria, who loved being a porpoise while her human worried about her settling that way, or like Lyra and Pantalaimon who kind of brushed it off and didn’t think about it. A being that was my soul given form would have to be just as much of a bag of nerves and insecurities as I was, and might never take a form like that again after hearing the dolphin story because we have the kind of personality that couldn’t not think about all the implications of being settled in a form, and what that meant losing. We’d be the sort to read an article or see a documentary about a daemon settling as a form that completely limited their lives, and the fear of changing and not being able to change back, of getting stuck like that, would always be at the back of both our minds. Because it doesn’t seem like daemons truly understand it either, and that would be scary.

And as we got older it would just get worse, because we’d be close and it could happen at any moment so taking a form she wouldn’t be okay with spending the rest of her life as, and that I wouldn’t be okay with her spending the rest of her life as, would be so risky. We’d be up until 2 AM making charts on spiral notebook paper and reading about animals on Wikipedia to try and feel some kind of control over it, and she’d just keep taking fewer and fewer forms.

Nothing aquatic because water is fun but being bound to it is obviously bad. No invertebrates because they’re so cool and different but they can’t feel things in quite the same way. No cold-blooded animals because what if she could never change into something with fur or feathers on a cold day again? Nothing too small that would have to be carried all the time in public, but definitely nothing too big to be carried at all because the fear of someone touching her by accident, kicking her or stepping on her or running into her in a crowd or being trapped and forced away from each other by a wall of oblivious human flesh. How could a wolf or a mountain lion daemon ever feel safe in a city? But nothing too small to defend itself from large daemons because other people are dangerous and anyone could be a threat. But no large birds that need to perch and their humans have to wear arm bracers or shoulder pads so they don’t hurt them and can’t just sit on their laps, and then no birds at all because being able to fly makes having to stay close together feel limiting since the tops of buildings are still out of reach and what’s the point of flying if you can’t go high?

And because of that fear of settling in the wrong form, the number of forms that were okay, that were safe to take, would just keep getting smaller and smaller, until one day we’d notice that she hadn’t changed for weeks, and we’d just be like...

Oh.

It’s already happened.

And then it’d probably be such a fucking relief just knowing it was okay and it couldn’t go wrong anymore. Occasional nightmares about just turning into an animal neither of us even liked completely against her will that wouldn’t stop until like halfway through college aside.

So yeah, I hope this is relatable to somebody out here in this community because seriously I think the uncertainty around settling would be a major source of anxiety for a lot of kids and a lot of daemons.

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 7)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 7: rabbit hole

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. omg THE LAST CHAPTER!!!! i hope you guys like this chapter!! feedback is always appreciated. thanks for reading <3

warnings: drinking, cursing, hate comments

word count: 1.6k

important: bold and italic are character thoughts

series masterlist   main masterlist   chapter 6

Love, easy it comes and easy it goes. Y/N and Haz’ calamitous love had no tracks ahead of it. The only thing they could do was jump off the train before it crashed and burned. Y/N took that step and fell on Tom’s doorstep. When Haz saw her leave, he understood that hurt couldn’t save a dying soul, so he jumped too, causing their marriage to fall off a hill.

They left the hobbit’s room with a sea of change in their aura. Both had bloodshot eyes from all the rivers they swam through. “I will go settle the tab”, Haz said without meeting her eyes. Y/N walked towards her driver, Arnold, who was standing near the main entrance, eager to tell her about the situation outside.

“There is a herd of paparazzi out there, ma’am”, he said.

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment.

“Shall we go?” Haz walked over to them.

“Yeah”, her voice was small and dry.

Arnold opened the door and stayed ahead to make way for them in between the storm of people. They were all screaming something over one another, making it hard to understand. Haz and Y/N had their heads down, trying to hide the stained cheeks from the blinding lights. Haz clutched Y/N’s hand protectively, out of habit.

They made their way inside the car, parked not so far away from the pub.

“You can stay with me tonight, you’re leaving for New York tomorrow morning anyway”, Y/N said looking outside the window.

“It's fine Y/N, I can get a hotel room”

“No, I insist”, her eyes focused on the lamp heads passing them by.

“Okay, I’ll take the couch”

“You can sleep on the bed, with me”

Haz found Y/N’s hand in the dark backseat and squeezed it affectionately.

That night was the last time they slept together in the same bed. When Y/N woke up the next morning, he was already gone. He left a note on the refrigerator that read, ‘thank you for everything’. A bittersweet smile took over her face.

Y/N needed some time to herself, but she also needed to inform people about her decision. She craft an email to her manager, agent and her lawyer. All of them were sent the exact same email.

Harrison and I have decided to end our marriage. I would like to file for divorce as soon as possible, and the process should be civil. I will be unavailable for a few days, so do what you have to with the news.

Y/N

She also sent her parents that email but as a text on the family group chat.

It’s short and to the point, let’s hope they don’t call me with a million questions.

When it came to Tom, she noticed that he had sent her an image a few seconds ago. It was a screenshot of a TMZ article. The headline was, ‘Y/N left her movie premiere early to meet her husband’, it wasn’t jarring but the photo underneath the headline was. Haz was holding Y/N’s hand as tightly he physically could, both of their bodies looked tired and Y/N’s makeup was all messed up. She hadn’t noticed any of that in the moment, last night.

Tom sent her another text.

Tom: Are you ok?

Y/N: not really, I’m filing for divorce

Tom: oh, do you want me to come over?

Y/N: I think I want some time to myself right now

Y/N: I’ll probably watch Gilmore girls the whole weekend

Tom: ok, I’m here if you need anything

Tom: love you

Y/N: you too

---

On Monday, the news broke. The whole world now knew that their marriage was over. The news outlets tried their best to be creative with headlines.

‘Their kingdom has come and gone: Harrison and Y/N file for divorce’

‘Harrison and Y/N, Hollywood’s perfect couple not so perfect anymore’

These were some of the most impressive ones according to Y/N’s management team but they decided to keep it to themselves. No one had heard from Y/N since Saturday. Even though she had told them that she would be unavailable, they still sent emails, warning her to stay off social media sites, especially twitter, the creator of hate wagons.

Twitter was not kind to her at all. Their divorce was trending in the entertainment section. Many people thought that it was their right to comment on this situation. They had a lot to say, mostly about Y/N.

Y/N would often find herself diving into the rabbit hole of her trending tag. She would read almost everything they had to say about her, the good and the bad, but the bad overwhelmed the good.

‘She was only in it to get famous’

‘She ugly if I was Harrison then I would drop that ass too’

‘She is so fake’

‘Harrison is better off without her’

‘She was def cheating on him’

‘Why would someone even love Y/N’

She didn’t notice, but this was getting to her. She would constantly stare at her reflection, picking her appearance apart because someone on the internet called her ugly. Y/N would rethink everything she ever said in front of the media wondering whether she sounded fake or not. She would wake in the middle of the night, pacing like a ghost, thinking she didn’t deserve Tom at all and that he would realise soon enough.

All would be lost.

Even though she thought no one noticed that she was slowly losing her mind, Tom did. He would look at her touching her face, getting lost in deep thoughts. He could feel her tossing and turning in the bed, every night. He would look through her while she’s looking through her phone. Her leg would never stop fidgeting while at rest. He noticed everything.

He took it upon himself to save her from the demons. It was late evening, Tom picked Y/N up from the set. The whole ride home, Y/N was on her phone, mindlessly scrolling through her twitter, reading every inch and every corner. No words could escape her.

When they reached home Y/N informed Tom that she was going to take a shower. Tom was in the kitchen getting the food ready, when he saw Y/N’s phone unattended on the kitchen island. He was tempted to go through with his plan.

He picked up her phone and unlocked it, he knew her password. He went on deleting every social media app from her phone and also changed his contact DP on her phone. Earlier it was an embarrassing childhood photo, he changed it to a scanned Polaroid photo of them together.

Y/N came out with a towel tied up her head. She grabbed two plates from the cabinet and set them on the island.

“What are you making?” she asks him.

“Rice paper rolls”

“So we’re having Vietnamese today, interesting”, she grabbed her phone to check her Instagram.

Where the fuck are all my apps?

“I think my phone has some defect, the Instagram and twitter apps got deleted”, Y/N says vigorously swiping through her phone.

“That’s not a defect I did that”, Tom served the dinner.

“You did what? You have no right to go through my phone and delete apps without my permission, Tom.”

“It’s for your own good, all of that shit was getting to your head”, he said calmly.

“No it wasn’t” she poorly defended herself.

“Yes it was, you were letting some random divs tell you what you are worth. That’s fucked up, babe”

She lets out a loud grunt, filled with frustration.

They both ate in silence, only the crunch of vegetables audible.

After Tom was done with his dinner, he got up, placed his dish in the sink, picked up his coat from the sofa and walked towards the door. Y/N’s eyes never stopped following his figure.

“I think I should go back to my apartment”, before Y/N could reply, Tom was out of the door.

They didn’t talk for a day but Y/N realised how peaceful she felt without having other people’s opinions being fed to her constantly. She felt less insecure about her body, her personality and especially Tom.

He loves me so much that he was ready to invade my privacy to help me.

She decides to call Tom, noticing the unfamiliar photo on his contact. The phone rung, he picked it up on the second ring.

“You little shit changed your photo, huh” her smile was audible.

“I did and I’m sorry”

“No, I’m sorry. You were right, I do feel better with all the noise gone, but you know what would make me feel much better, you, here with me”

---

Tom came over almost instantly, it was like he was already halfway to her apartment when she called. They were on the couch, watching a movie on Y/N’s laptop. Y/N had her head on Tom’s lap and he was playing with her hair.

Holding her breath, Y/N slowly said, “You didn’t need to save me, you know”

“I know”, he replies nonchalantly.

“But the real question is, would you run away with me?”

“Of course, where to darling?”

“Somewhere no one can find us and it’s only the two of us”, she scrunches her face.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed, at the pub?”

“Yeah”, she replied, fondly remembering that moment.

“You said we should go to Ireland together and I said don’t make empty promises”

“Well, do you want to run away to Ireland with me?”

“Yes”, he bent downwards and kissed her softly.

THE END

@mysticapples17 @storybookholland @flqwsome  @hollandstanevans

[anothersievefistedfind]

Fugazi, Mass Art Gymnasium, Boston, MA USA 4/19/2002 - photo © by Edwina Hay

Fugazi, Mass Art Gymnasium, Boston, MA USA 4/19/2002 (FLS #1029) & 4/20/2002 (FLS #1030)

Not having played in Boston proper for 11 years (i.e. since their one-off show at the Channel on March 17, 1991) due to the lack of promoters willing to do shows in larger venues for low ticket prices and the city suddenly ruling all ages shows illegal, Fugazi would finally return to play two consecutive nights at the Mass Art Gymnasium (MassArt), “[f]ounded in 1873, [...] one of the nation’s oldest art schools, the only publicly funded free-standing art school in the United States, and [...] the first art college in the United States to grant an artistic degree” (via). 

Moreover, and according to the MassArt website, it is “a place with wide reach, where the hardest, most important, and most rewarding work of [their] students, staff, and affiliates, is to keep [their] eyes open [!] and continue expanding [their] vision.” In other words, a place most suitable to host a couple of Fugazi shows and have some 1500 enthusiasts share in the experience each night. 

Interestingly, these shows in Boston played out while Washington D.C. was preparing for another round of large-scale protests on April 20th. According to an April 14, 2002 article “D.C. Protest Organizers Take On New Cause” by Manny Fern and ez published in the Washington Post, 

“Those opposed to global capitalism and the U.S. policies that support it, others who have decried the war in Afghanistan and activists who objected to widespread arrests of Muslims in the United States have joined pro-Palestinian groups to march for a common cause.”

In their lengthy follow-up article, “Demonstrators Rally to Palestinian Cause”, published on April 21, 2002 in the Washington Post, the authors provide some more details as to how these events unfolded,

“Tens of thousands converged on downtown Washington yesterday to demonstrate for a variety of causes, but it was the numbers and passion of busloads of Arab Americans and their supporters that dominated the streets.

Eager to make their presence felt and their voices heard in the nation's capital as never before, Arab and Muslim families marched and chanted for an end to U.S. military aid to Israel, overwhelming the messages of those with other causes in a peaceful day of downtown rallies and marches.”

Considering the nature and backdrop of these events, it only makes sense that the demonstrations run like a thread through both Fugazi shows in Boston. Leading into the song Argument on the first night, Ian gives a lengthy address touching on the causes of the demonstrations, his concerns and doubts in relation to the media coverage and on the band playing shows in Boston instead of standing with the demonstrators in Washington D.C., concluding that “[t]he fact of the matter is that, wherever you are, in the world, if you disagree with war, then you should be protesting every day, no matter where you are, so right now, this is the beginning of the protest.”

The recording of the first night documents a collection of songs that are performed very well for the most part and blend nicely together, with some cool extras, cf. the vocals catching some nice reverb on Oh, a memorable version of Ex-Spectator, Guy’s “public housing” rap into Dear Justice Letter, a cool double shot of Joe with The Kill / By You combo, or a rare 2002 live appearance of Bad Mouth.

However, there are a couple of reasons that will probably keep me from revisiting this one anytime soon. My main gripe is that the recording is incomplete. The introduction is missing as well as the actual last three songs of the set, i.e. Arpeggiator, Sweet and Low and Repeater. Guy’s vocals are low in the mix on Sieve-Fisted Find and kind of get stuck in the left channel for most of the recording. Also, the recording skips a couple of times during Cashout.

And so my preference lies with the recording of the second night, which fortunately is complete and better sounding overall, even though Brendan’s snare drum comes off a bit harsh the first couple of songs. This one too has a nice flow to it and documents a really good performance (never mind the guitar soloing towards the end of Strangelight is a bit off). 

My highlights here include a nice little midsection with 4 early songs which provide Guy with ample opportunity to lay down his guitar and go off, rare 2002 live versions of Song #1 and Last Chance for a Slow Dance (this one’s a beauty), another nice double dose of Joe by way of Recap Modotti / By You played back-to-back, and last but definitely not least, more remarks by Ian about protests “to celebrate the idea that not the entire country is insane, there are some people who are sane” as an introduction to an outstanding rendering of KYEO which has Ian catering some more to the issues of the day:

“Important bulletin, we have from unconfirmed sources, an alleged plot to possibly blow up five streets in an unnamed city, somewhere in this country, we can’t say it’s gonna happen, but we can’t say it’s not gonna happen, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t walk on the street, we actually don’t know what it means, we just want you to be scared...”

The troops are quiet tonight, But it's not alright, Because we know they're planning something. Don't you know things have settled down, 

Down, down but silence is a dangerous sound, 

”Because when you’re scared, you’re off-balance, and when you’re off-balance, you can’t reason, when you can’t reason it’s very hard to recognize that something is being done in your name that you would not like to have been done, or you would not like people to do, so get on-balance, don’t be scared...”

The troops are quiet tonight, But it's not alright, Because we know they're planning something. Don't you know things have settled down,

Down, down but SILENCE is a dangerous sound,

We must, we must, We must keep our eyes open, See what we see, What once was promised now will be. Still uncertain? Get off that hang, Don't wait for the bang, The tools, They will be swinging, But we will not be beaten down.

Note that videos of both performances circulate on YouTube (see below). These have been synched-up with the recordings presented here, with permission of the band. On an interesting side note, and according to Ian, “ryanne hodson, who is credited with the video editing was responsible for uploading hundreds of the FLS shows on the site. she’s been a real friend and booster to the project.”

Ironically, the footage of the first show is pretty much complete (contrary to the incomplete audio recording) while the footage of the second show is missing about 30 minutes of the performance (contrary to the complete audio recording).

The set lists:

April 19, 2002 (incomplete):

1. Break 2. Sieve-Fisted Find 3. Reclamation 4. Oh 5. Ex-Spectator 6. Interlude 1 7. Dear Justice Letter 8. Interlude 2 9. Stacks 10. The Kill 11. By You 12. Interlude 3 13. Forensic Scene 14. Cashout 15. Nightshop 16. Bad Mouth 17. Break-In 18. Interlude 4 19. Furniture 20. Blueprint 21. Encore 22. Argument 23. Full Disclosure 24. Long Division 25. No Surprise

April 20, 2002 (complete):

1. Intro 2. Number 5 3. Facet Squared 4. Rend It 5. Interlude 1 6. Birthday Pony 7. Oh 8. Styrofoam 9. Life and Limb 10. Closed Captioned 11. Public Witness Program 12. Five Corporations 13. Strangelight 14. Break 15. Burning 16. Song #1 17. Interlude 2 18. Give Me The Cure 19. Waiting Room 20. Recap Modotti 21. By You 22. Last Chance for a Slow Dance 23. Epic Problem 24. Encore 1 25. Cashout 26. Interlude 3 27. Full Disclosure 28. Interlude 4 29. KYEO 30. Outro

[writingtoforgetreality]

Come Together - Little Movie Star Chapter Five (Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader)

[Actors-Masterlist], [Little Movie Star-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 

Summary: It was finally time to meet the Padalecki’s. What if they did not like you? You were expecting a lot of things but you certainly were not expecting this. Were you dreaming? You had to be.

Words: 1,912

Warnings: language, Jared being a hugger (you’ll understand why I put it here), being uncomfortable, scared of having to go back, surprises, kinda a filler chapter but important for the future of this story

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

~2016~

Tonight, the Padalecki’s were coming over. When Jensen broke the news to you, you were excited but equally nervous. Danneel drove the kids over to their grandparents so they would not disturb you during dinner. Not that they ever annoyed you. The exact opposite, actually. You loved having them around. But you were supposed to focus on Jared & Gen tonight.

The thought of them getting to know you scared the shit out of you. They were the Ackles’ best friends, after all, & you wanted to leave a good first impression behind. It took you some time to figure out what you wanted to wear for dinner. It would be held at home so you did not have to overdress but at the same time, you found dressing nicely to be convenient. After changing your outfit one too many times, you settled on a simple look. While it was nothing special, you did feel confident in it. And confidence was definitely something you needed later today.

Spending hours in the bathroom was not planned, it simply happened. You wanted to look perfect. Danneel had told you that there was no need to worry, that they would love you just as you were. Being a fan of them for a long time, you knew they would never judge you by they way you looked. It just was not in their nature. Still, it could not hurt to put effort into your look, right?

When you woke up today, the first thing you did was checking your phone. You knew you should not but sometimes you felt the need to. By now, everyone knew about you. And while the hate comments were becoming less & less, some days, you only noticed the negative responses. Of course, the media had picked up on the fact that you were a new person they could write about. There was not much to report about you, though. Some paparazzi had shot a few pictures of you over the time of you living in Austin. At first, you were creeped out by the idea of being watched 24/7. Now, you were dealing with it way better. When you were seen with Jensen, you posed for the pictures & it was fun to mess with them, really. Besides your first Instagram post, you had been quiet on social media. The hate wave still needed some time to die down & you did not want to add fire to the flame by posting more stuff about your new life. Surprisingly, the articles that had been written about you were mainly positive. Of course, a couple of them were looking for drama but because of your silence on social media, there was not much they could write about.

Walking out of your room after checking your look in the mirror for the hundredth time, you saw that you still had an hour left before they would be coming by. You could ask Danneel if you could help in the kitchen. She had insisted on making the main dish while the Padalecki’s would bring over dessert. Danneel heard you walking in & gasped when she turned around to look at you.

“Wow, (Y/N). You look gorgeuous.” blushing at her words, you thanked her.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” walking over, you could already smell the delicious dish Danneel was preparing.

“You could set the table if you don’t mind?” she asked you & you immediately got to work, grabbing everything necessary to put on the table.

Hey, Dee?” you were at a point where calling her by her nickname did not make you uncomfortable anymore. Yet, if you had to be fully honest, being in Jensen’s presence calmed you more. Comparing your relationship to the beginning, though, the both of you had improved by a lot. And you were grateful that your trying was not for nothing.

“What’s up?”

“Where’s Jensen? Shouldn’t he…I don’t know, be here already?” you knew he was not the person to be late, especially not for something as important as this. Okay, it was just dinner but he was aware of your nervousness even days before. Danneel informed you that he was at the Padalecki’s house & would arrive right in time with them. Okay, good. At least he did not forget about it.

Ever since you had arrived in Austin, Jensen’s filming schedule was all over the place. The crew wanted to give him more time with you & the change in his life. This ended up in him flying back & forth from Vancouver to Austin almost every couple of days. It was exhausting & you had reasoned with him to focus on his work entirely, that you guys would be okay here. But nope, Jensen wanted to be there with his family & you appreciated his efforts a lot. A lot of weekends, he was at conventions all across the country but he always managed to stop by & spend time with you all. He was great.

There was knocking on the front door & you knew it was them. Danneel asked you to get the door & you were silently preparing yourself. You had multiple conversations in your head & hoped that one of them would be fitting. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door. Damn, you knew Jared was tall but he was tall. You were pulled into a bone-crashing hug before any words were exchanged. Right, you knew Jared was a hugger, you had seen enough videos of him admitting that. Still, you were getting used to physical touch & his hug did more bad than good. You hated yourself for feeling that way, there was no need to be scared of hugs.

“Easy, pal. Let her go.” Jensen rescued you by tapping Jared’s shoulder. It was as if he suddenly remembered that you actually were not one for hugs. Pulling away abruptly, he scratched the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry…” he quietly apologized. “I’m Jared. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/N).” you could not stay mad at him, the look in his eyes & his smile was enough to forget the uncomfortable hug immediately.

“It’s no problem & likewise, Jared.” stepping out of the doorway to let them in, Gen came into view & she smiled sweetly at you. Not making the same mistake as Jared, she simply shook your hand.

“Hi (Y/N), I’m Gen. You look pretty.” would you ever stop blushing whenever someone gave you a compliment? You were not sure but it was something you could work on, you thought.

“Thank you. It’s good to see you.” keeping your nervousness at bay, you were proud when your voice did not crack. If you acted like this the entire evening, you would be fine.

Jared & Gen walked into the house to greet Danneel & Jensen stopped you before you could follow them. Facing him, you gave him a confused look, not knowing what he wanted from you.

“I’m sorry about Jared. I told him you weren’t one for hugs but that jerk doesn’t listen very well.” Jensen felt bad that the first interaction between you guys was uncomfortable for you.

“It’s fine, Jensen, really. I knew he was a hugger.” a laugh escaped you, one that eased him a little. Now he could tell you were not mad at what happened. It could only get better from now on, right?

Dinner went by fast. It was easy to talk to them & while they did ask you a lot of questions, they were never uncomfortable. They knew where the line was that  should not be crossed. At least for the time being.

“So, (Y/N).” Jared started.

“Yeah?”

“I heard a rumor that you’re a fan of Supernatural?” he gave you a smile that showed you that he knew the answer to that question already. You nodded your head.

“Started watching about three years ago.“

“That brings me to my next very important question. Who’s your favorite? Sam or Dean?” oh, he did go down that road, great. You could feel Jensen’s eyes on you & Jared was looking way too confident. Honesty was important, right? Well, then you might as well confess.

“Actually…Cas is my favorite.” you admitted. Both, Jared & Jensen, gasped & acted as if the world just ended. You laughed at their antics. They could be such children.

“That’s my girl.” Danneel spoke up & high-fived you. Yeah, you could get used to that group of people.

Danneel & Gen left Jensen, Jared & you alone, knowing what they were about to tell you. Jared had brought you a little gift. It was one of his hoodies from the newest “Always Keep Fighting” campaign. The one with the “Family Has Your Back” logo. After thanking him, you immediately put it on, loving how it fit you. It was a little too big on you but that made it even comfier.

“We have to tell you something.” Jensen started. Oh no. Usually, when people from your past started a conversation like this, you were sent back the next day. Wait…Would they really do that? After everything?

“O-okay?” hiding your nervousness was not possible anymore. Jared noticed you trembling hands & eased your mind before you got the wrong impression.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s a good thing, I promise.” again, Jared’s smile had an effect on you. Maybe it was because he was so empathetic.

“Remember when you told me that you enjoyed acting a while ago?” Jensen continued after you nodded, “I managed to get you two auditions. They are online, so I can be there with you this entire time. That is, of course, only if you wanna do this.” your eyes widened at his words. Had you heard him right? He got you auditions? Plural? That was literally one of your biggest dreams.

“So?” Jared asked when you were silent for a few seconds. You just needed time to process everything. But holy shit. Of course you wanted to do this!

“I’d love to! What are the auditions for?”

“One is for being a main character in season 13 of Supernatural & the-“ Jensen was cut off.

“WAIT WHAT?! You’re kidding, right?”

“He so isn’t kidding.” Jared chimed in.

“And the second one?” everything was too much right now. How could you possibly deal with this information without freaking out?

“A role for the next Avengers movie.” Jensen finished. Yeah, sure, why not?

“How? How did you get these auditions for me?” you were shocked to say the least. What was happening?

“We do have some connections.” Jared winked at you & this time, it was you who pulled the both of them into a hug. Jared looked surprised while Jensen just smiled. He appreciated whenever you initiated physical touch, knowing it was not easy for you.

After the talk, Danneel & Gen joined you guys again & you excitedly told them about your upcoming auditions. That was so foreign to you. Having upcoming auditions. Even though they made sure that you understood that they could not guarantee anything, you were more than grateful that they even got you this opportunity. Supernatural & Marvel, both fandoms you loved wholeheartedly. And now you had the chance to be play an actual part if everything worked out. And how you hoped it would. Your life had changed so much lately & it could change even more now.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter 

Published (04/17/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @vicmc624​, @imaginationisgrowth​, @stoneyggirl​, @alyispunk​, @thevelvetseries​, @multifandomlover121​, @samsgirl93​, @supernatural3002​, @diabetes-03, @prettyybubblesintheair, @originalsoulcollector​, @vir-tual, @bellero​, @sergantbuckybarnes​ (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

[aenxiome]

Chapter 3: Suck it up Fenton

The rest of the day ended up being lackluster.

In the beginning, things were going well, seating assignments had been changed, and more teachers roamed the halls during and between classes. Unfortunately, the changes aren't going to last. While teachers were punishing students for bad behavior, it wasn't always the ones who did the deed that got punished. It is almost like the trouble makers started rapidly evolving. Many of the A-List target students got detention, with their reflective bully doing a whole 180 when a teacher showed up. Thankfully I managed not to get detention for a second day and a row, but that may be from Dash getting in trouble earlier today.

I may be giving my classmates more credit than they are worth, though. Before today, none of the teachers ever monitored the events in the hallways—giving everyone free rein to do what they wished without any consequences. This isn't anyone evolving. This is their way of getting around the new, hopefully, standards that they are trying to implement. If things continue to go this way, the A-Lists and others are just going to become less subtle in their actions. Not that I expect them to be able to pull it off in the end, but the new arrangement might cause even more issues.

'Great going Fenton, you just screwed everyone, I tell myself. Not everyone can handle themselves as well as you can. This is going to mean so much trouble. But, I try to look on the bright side, thinking about Astronomy. I got some papers back today, full credit on my star chart, though that's pretty much expected of me at this point. So not too surprising. Hopefully, other classes will improve with the seating arrangements being changed, but there is no way of telling if they truly will.

Once classes were over and done with, I met up Sam and Tucker at the Nasty Burger. The restaurant is just starting to get busy with the constant incoming groups of students coming through the door. Thankfully we can claim our regular booth and put in an order for food. " So, how did your guys' day go?" Tucker asks, fiddling with one of his newer PDAs. He goes through PDAs as Dad goes through fudge, a lot of them and all the time. Sam and I just shrug in response and continue the conversation going through some random small talk.

In the middle of our conversation, Tucker suddenly goes still and stares at the PDA. He shoves the device in front of Sam's face making her read whatever has grabbed his attention. Once she is done looking at whatever it is, she and Tucker make eye contact conveying something to each other that I am unable to make out. Sam starts to say something but is interrupted by our food arriving.

"Danny," Tucker says as I shove fries into my mouth, " what happened last night?" I give him a questioning look. Sam slides over the PDA it is showing a local news article. The headline, "MORE DESTRUCTION IN AMITY," is plastered at the top. Below it shows a picture of a destroyed abandoned lot, the same lot from the fight with Skulker earlier this morning.

MORE DESTRUCTION IN AMITY

by Charisma Lynn

This morning residents of this local neighborhood woke up to the remains of another ghost fight. All around the grounds, traces of the battle can be found. Burn marks cover the ground in many areas showing the intensity of the fight. When officials first got on the scene, they found a couple of abnormalities not commonly seen. In a couple of different places, shattered pieces of ghostly green energy can be found. At first appearance, the pieces look like stained glass, but after the first contact turns into a gooey substance. Residents are being told not to worry as the substance is completely harmless but to still take caution. Along with the glass-like substance is a frozen piece of the ground. Even in the sunlight, the spot has shown no difference and is as hard as a rock. Out of the earth is a broken piece of ice. So far, we are unable to tell where the ice has come from, but our best guess is from some kind of ghostly interference. Many residents of the neighborhood have to ask where Phantom was? Was he part of the destruction, or is there a new ghost in town? Find out more tonight at 6 on APC.

I look up from the article to see Sam and Tucker staring at me. I shove more unsalted fries into my mouth. Did you know salt is a natural ghost repellent I, unfortunately, learned that the hard way. Never again. I finish chewing before reassuring them, " Guys, it's fine it was just a typical ghost fight." Tucker starts on his food apparently satisfied with my answer while Sam looks like she is getting ready to argue, but I interject before she gets the chance.

" It was just Skulker, it wasn't anything too bad" the mixture of "too bad" and Skulker grabs Tucker's attention once again. With him too now giving me a critiquing look over. " Are you sure dude? You aren't hurt anywhere are you?" His voice started to become a little bit frantic as he says, "Because Im not going to the hospital. Sorry but that's where I draw the line."

" Okay, but that doesn't explain what's up with the ice spot and glassy thingy," Sam says, bringing us back to the point of the conversation. " Not now," I tell them. I glance around the crowded room before looking back to them, "not here."

They look as if they are preparing to argue as I whisper, " in private." I get a couple of questioning looks as I continue, " Theres' too many people that could overhear" With the promise to talk about it later, our meal went back to everyday small talk and griping about whatever else is bothering us.

Thankfully they let it go. For now, at least.

We finish up our meal and leave the restaurant, then start on down the road. "So," Sam asks, looking in my direction, " where exactly are we going? Your place?" I start to agree but get cut off by Tucker, " We should go to the lot." I give him a questioning glance. He continues his thought, saying, " The picture in the article doesn't show much, and you never know the media could be over-exaggerating again."

"Why not," Sam says with the tone of excitement in her voice, " sounds like fun." I stop walking as I think it over. Before I can say anything, the two of them rush off ahead in the direction of the lot while a feeling of dread overtakes me. "Guys," I call out to them, trying to catch back up, " I don't think this is a good idea." I tell them in a rush, "I will tell you about it when we get to my place. We don't need to go there." Sam narrows her eyes at me before saying, "you're hiding something."

" No, that's not it," I wring my hands in my shirt, unsure of how to proceed. She doesn't let up with her glare at my words. Sam sighs and comes towards me, grabs my arm, and pulls me along with her. I try to pull myself away without hurting her, but I just can't seem to do it. Finally, I become resigned and hesitantly follow without protest.

Didn't they read the same article that I did? It says authorities looked at the lot. They would have had to call ghost experts. Who is to say that they still aren't there? What are we going to say if the Guys In White stuck around? Or even worse, my parents.

When we arrive, the lot is empty, only showing past signs of anyone having been here. The three of us cautiously walk towards the destruction. Next to me, I hear Tucker gasp before saying, "Oh my…" he stops himself before saying anything else. Sam isn't much better putting her hand around my arm in a vice grip.

Before them stands the evidence of one of my fights. In the daylight, the damage looks worse than it did under the moon, making me feel even worse about our actions than I already do. The ground doesn't look so much burned but scorched. As if a fire had burned away its beauty and left a hot steaming pile of muck in its place.

The few trees that line the property have missing limbs that have either splintered or lie on the ground. Shards of ectoplasm are scattered around in the grass, waiting for an unsuspecting human to fall victim to its goo or a ghost to impale its self on its sharp edges. In the middle of it, all is the spikey ice collum surrounded by the frozen frosty ground.

" So they under exaggerated this time," Tucker said, trying to bring humor to the situation, " who would have guessed." I look away from them, ashamed. " It didn't look this bad at night," I say softly, " It didn't" Unable to meet their eyes, I walk forward towards the Ice. Sam and Tucker tell me not to touch anything that I don't know where it comes from As I get near it. I ignore them and put my hand on the side of the spike. Even in human form, I am still unable to feel any of its coldness. It feels just as warm as the air around us, a little moist but not cold.

Sam and Tucker, at some point, walk towards the spike and join me at my side while I inspect the spike. " What does it feel like to you?" I ask. " Dude, it's Ice, it's cold. What else is it supposed to feel like?" I continue to glide my hand over the ice while telling them to humor me. I watch as they put their hands onto the ice, and as soon as they touch it, their hands go flying away from it. They both hold their hand as if something is attacking them. "Danny, how can you touch that!" Sam exclaims, " that stuff is freezing!"

" It feels warm to me," I tell them nonchalantly as if this is an everyday occurrence. " Danny, this isn't normal," Sam says in a worried tone. I don't say anything in response, knowing that this isn't normal for human beings, not at all. Instead, I stare at the ice, trying to figure out how to fix it, when suddenly, an idea comes to my head. I look towards them and hum to catch their attention, "Hey, do you think you can back up for a second? I have something I want to try."

As soon as they are far away enough, I check and double-check that no one is around. Before going forward on my idea, I yell to Tucker, " Tuck, can you check for cameras and stuff first?" He pulls out his PDA and tells me, " No problem with 'Simone' I'll know if anything is there in a jiffy." I wait a second until I hear him give the okay and start my attempt.

My eyes start to glow an icy ethereal blue as I stand before the spike and tap into my ice core. I can feel the cold rushing through me and out to my surroundings. In my presence, the spike starts to repair itself as I let my core come to the surface. In the middle of the spike, I can feel a connection to myself, its ectoplasmic connection to myself. Instead of pushing the ice out, I pull it in, and before my eyes, the ice starts to melt. Instead of shattering like before, it slowly becomes raw energy becoming a blue-white blob.

I gather as much energy as I can from the earth, defrosting it and adding it to the rest of the blob. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding when all of the ice finished melting. I look around the lot for the scorched places, instinctively knowing what to do. I melt the icy ectoplasmic blob even more into water and send it around to saturate the ruined earth. When the ecto-water hits the ground, the earth lets out a satisfying hiss. The ground looks as if it has partially recovered, making it look like months have gone by instead of only a few hours since the initial conflict. Slowly I let go of my core, letting my eyes go back to their normal human hue. A smile comes to my face at my accomplishment, and I look over at Sam and Tucker. They are both staring at me with huge eyes with different emotions flashing through them: amazement, surprise, and wonder.

I go to take a step towards them when the world starts to spin. I feel myself stumble forward. " Danny!" I hear my name called out in fear and a rushing of feet coming to me. A wave of nausea hits me hard, and I lose my balance falling forward. Luckily Sam is just close enough for me to fall onto. "Danny," I hear my name called out again, " oh my gosh, are you okay?" Feeling too weak to answer, all I can do is groan.

" What are we going to do?" I hear Tucker ask Sam frantically, " we can make it to his place from here, and both of our houses are on the other side of town." The two of them keep coming up with ideas that won't work to get us out of the lot. I try to interject but just moving my mouth causes me pain.

Finally, I manage to groan out a name, "Jazz," but they don't seem to hear me. I try again, a bit louder this time, "Jazz," Sam stops talking, and when Tucker doesn't, I listen to her hit him in the back of the head. "Hey, what was that for" he complains, "Shush, Danny said something." With the raging quiet for the last time, I groan, "Jazz."

A quick vague phone call later and give or take a few minutes, Jazzs' car pulls up, and they give a sigh of relief. I hear a door slam and a worried Jazz making her way over. When she gets to us, I try to look up at her and grab her attention, but I am unable to reach her eyes. " What happened" She interrogated as she crouches down to take hold of me. I feel fatigued and start to lose track of the conversation. The next thing I know, someone has picked me up, and I'm in the car. I feel at ease with the motion of the car as we race home. It doesn't take long for me to close my eyes and fall asleep.

When I come to, I'm staring at the old stick-on stars that are attached to my bedroom ceiling. I cautiously sit up, feeling the strain of an invisible muscle, my core, in my chest. My sister and friends are spread out in the room, passed out exhausted. I glance at the clock next to my bed and read the time 3:18 AM. I try to get up from the bed, but I tumble down onto the floor. The sound wakes up Jazz, making her spring into action, helping me back up. "Hey," she whispers, "don't move too fast. You are still recovering."

I wince a little at the movement. Once she gets me steady, I whisper, "Can you help me get to the bathroom." She nods and carefully helps me to the bathroom. Once everything is situated, Jazz brings me back to my room and helps me onto the bed. I scoot over, making enough room for her to join me, which she quickly accepts.

"They told me what happened at the lot," she says, motioning towards my friends, " What were you thinking trying something like that?" She admonishes. I snuggle into her, getting comfortable before starting my defense, " I was just trying to clean up the mess we make," With a look, I explain further, " Skulker and I fought there last night. It went a little longer than expected. I didn't realize that we made such a mess."

"What about the ice," she inquires. I give half a shrug, " It was unexpected; I don't know how it happened." I tell her truthfully, " I plan to go visit Frostbite this weekend and see if he knows anything." She starts raking her hand through my hair then continues the conversation, " They said you got rid of the ice and fixed part of the ground? They didn't explain it too well. Care to elaborate?"

"It's weird. I just kind of knew how to do it. It was like…." I trail off, not liking the word I need to use. Jazz, unfortunately, knew where to pick up at, "Instinct?" She questions, with my silence being the only acknowledgment she needs. She sighs before saying, "It's okay, you know, to admit it." We lay there for a while before I decide to respond, " I can't." I react in denial, " If I acknowledge it, then it makes it true." Jazz lets out a breathy laugh at that, " So, what if you don't talk about it? It's going to go away?"

" I wish," I mumble, "It's just if I talk about it, then it becomes more real. I can pretend to be normal." She scoffs at my response, " Normal is overrated anyway." I let out a yawn and looked over at the time 4:03 AM. " Can we talk about this later? It's late." She lets out a yawn of her own, having caught mine before saying accusingly, " You just don't want to talk about it." I don't deny her accusation but put some more distance between the two of us and painfully turn over.

What does she want me to tell her? That I feel drawn to go to Ghost Zone? That I like laying around in my ghost form? I can get away with feeling like me under the stars and use insomnia as an excuse, but there is no way to explain anything else. If I told her some of these things, it would just be more of a confirmation of what I already know: I'm a freak.

" Good night, Jazz."

"Good night, little brother."