#parents of today should know better and actually be able to give their kids safety tips | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fairyoftbz · 3 years

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aquaphobia | k. sunwoo

(n.) : an irrational or disproportionate fear of water, especially anxiety in deep water or when submerging one's face in water.

🌊 pairing: shy! sunwoo x fem! swimming teacher! reader 🌊 word count: 4.6k 🌊 genre: slight angst, fluff, mentions of suggestive themes at the end. 🌊 tw: aquaphobia, mention of claustrophobia and agoraphobia 🌊 synopsis: a young man approaches you while you give children swimming lessons. you’re far from expecting what he asked you. 🌊 a/n: happy birthday sunwoo! ❣ seeing him so scared of going underwater broke my heart, so i had to write about it! miss swimming so it felt so nice to write something like this!! i hope it’s any good and enjoy!

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Hands resting on your hips with the whistle in your mouth ready to blow, your eyes followed the children you were teaching to swim, walking at their pace on the side of the pool. Some parents were sitting in the cafeteria, watching you doubtingly and judgmentally from their seats, nervously sipping on their coffee as they were scared of the safety of their kids. They probably hadn't expected you to be this young, but your lifesaving and diving credentials could prove them otherwise.

You inhaled and blew your whistle, the children picking up the pace, making you squint as their feet tapped harder on the surface of the water, splashing it everywhere. You glanced at the clock on the wall and whistled again, ordering them to stop, before repeating this twice until they arrived at the other end of the pool.

"Alright kids, we'll end there for today," you paused your stopwatch, giving them a little time to catch their breath and get a grip onto the edge of the pool with their little hands.

"You're going to swim one last lap, starting in pairs. Once the first pair gets to the other end, two more will leave, etcetera, etcetera," you explained while gesturing everything under the watchful eyes of the parents. Smiling at some to reassuring them, you focused back on your students and calmed down the nervousness creeping in your veins under the parents' watch. "On your mark... Go!" you yelled, the first pair starting to swim. You kept the whistle close to your lips and followed them with your gaze, clapping your hands to encourage them.

You helped them out of the pool after everyone had finished the activity, the children scampering towards their parents. You waved with a smile to the few people who greeted and thanked you for your work, and you began to put away the different things used for the class.

"Hum, excuse me?" a voice coming from behind startled you, letting go of the pair of fins you had in hand. "Yes?" you replied in an uncertain voice, still surprised at the young man in front of you.

“I saw you training children just now. Do you happen to teach adults as well?" The question seemed to bother him, but he regained confidence when he saw the kindness and the smile on your face. "Classes are for everyone, no matter how young or old you are," you smiled, and he nodded before briefly looking to the side to escape your gaze. "A-Are you interested?" You dared to ask, and he blinked several times, taken aback by the question. "Let's say… how to put it," he started, and you nodded encouragingly, a smile forming on your lips.

“There is no shame in wanting to take lessons, even the biggest swimmers began with those." "No! This is… it's not it. I actually can't swim,” he confessed in a whisper, and your eyes widened briefly before picking up your towel that was lying on the stack of floats. “It's okay, you know. It's good that you want to experience this new sport," you tried to cheer him on, but it seemed like something was wrong, his gaze didn't light up when you accepted his request. "There’s no rush, I'll give you time to think. But if you want to take the plunge, you can sign up at the pool reception," you beamed, and he nodded another time, thanking you for giving him time.

A few days later, while you were having a coffee next to Sangyeon, your best friend - which was also the volunteering pool lifeguard - the young man who had come to talk to you at the end of class reappeared, a lost and anguished look painted on his face.

“Ah, looks like your first student of the day has arrived,” you laughed as you handed him your cup of coffee, opening your lifeguard jacket before walking down the first few steps to the main pool where the young man was eyeing the water, his face growing livid. "Ew, your coffee is disgusting, it's too sweet," Sangyeon put the mug back on the table with a disgusted look, his grimace making you burst out laughing. "Nobody forced you to drink it though," Sangyeon rushed over to a bottle of water and opened it, lightly waving at you as you started your day.

"Sunwoo, right?" The young man got startled as you announced yourself, causing him to turn around quickly, nodding. "Y-yes, it's me," he put his towel on his bag, and you nodded, setting your belongings next to his. "Good. I'm Y/N, and I'll be your teacher until we reach your goals, okay?" You started to walk towards the small stairs that went into the pool, but Sunwoo stayed on the first step with his feet in the water, muscles visibly clenched. You looked at him with furrowed brows, glancing briefly at Sangyeon in his cabin, who was also looking at you with furrowed brows.

Sunwoo fiddled with his hands, his index finger scratching the skin around his thumb. You could see in the side of his neck that his heart was pounding, and immediately understood what was wrong.

You then got out of the pool and put a hand on his shoulder, leading him back to his belongings. How do you get him to explain the situation without scaring or triggering him? His breathing was jerky and panting, your presence not reassuring him at all.

"Sunwoo? Sunwoo, look at me, please," You pressed your hand further onto his shoulder to force him to look at you, trying to make the young man understand that you didn't mean any harm to him. "Can you tell me what's going on? Are you afraid of water?" You asked in a whisper, and he swallowed hard, giving you a clue that you had hit a nerve.

“You know, it's not a shame to be afraid. Your fear is as acceptable as someone afraid of heights or confined spaces. Just because it's a tad bit less common doesn't mean it's less valid," Sunwoo nodded, your heart skipping a beat when his eyes swelled up with tears. "Do you want to postpone-" "No. No, I want to try," you nodded at his shaky words, relieved that he had built up the courage to overcome his fear. "It's-it's just that..." "You don't need to tell me the reason you're scared, that's none of my business. But simply tell me what scares you, so we can work on-" "I'm afraid to drown," he cut you, and you looked at him, encouraging him to continue, "I almost kicked the bucket once and ever since… I'm afraid of going back in the water. It can be the sea, a lake, a swimming pool, I hate it all." You nodded and stood up, motioning for him to follow you.

"We've already moved forward, you told me the reason for your fear, we can take the problem step by step. Now, would you feel reassured to have the lifeguard by the pool? He's my best friend, and he was a coast guard before he moved to come here, so he can save people in any condition," you suggested while pointing at Sangyeon, the latter standing up immediately. Sunwoo shook his head, and your friend sat back down, giving you a knowing smile that he would come down at any sign from you. "Great, then. Let’s try to get into the water, shall we?” You extended your hand, which he took without hesitation, squeezing your palm tightly.

You helped him take deep breaths to calm his pulse and train of thoughts, feeling his hand gradually loosen from yours as you encouraged and reassured him. You walked down the second step of the stairs, and he followed you, swallowing hard as you congratulated and cheered him on again.

"Take the time you want, even if you have to spend the session here, it's fine, okay?" He joined you on the third step, water now above mid-thighs, his hand tightening around yours. "It's alright Sunwoo, I'm here. You're okay, we'll get there eventually. Look at me, please," his firmly shut eyes relaxed, and he blinked several times, sighing as he wanted to cheer himself up. "Remember to breathe deeply and clear your thoughts. And if you feel like stopping, tell me, and we’ll do something else," his eyes never left yours, as if he were caught in a trance. A slight smile decorated your face, your eyes filled with kindness acting like a tranquilliser on his heart.

You looked away from Sunwoo for a brief moment to look at your best friend, who gave you a thumbs up with a big smile from his cabin, encouraging you to be the good teacher you were.

"Are you doing fine?" You asked in a soft voice, and he nodded, jaw clenched. The poor boy. You didn't know what had happened to him, but you truly could see that behind his brown eyes laid years of the trauma he had never been able to heal. "Y-yes, I think so," he whispered, taking a deep breath. "Good job. Do you want to try the fourth step, or should we wait for the next lesson?" You asked as you walked down the second to last step, not letting go of your student's clammy hand. You saw his foot hesitate above the step, but he took a step back, then another, letting go of your hand to take refuge on the first step. At least there was something positive, he hadn't run out of the pool completely.

"I-I am sorry," he whispered, and you stepped out of the water too, the wet part of your swimsuit sticking to your skin. "It's okay, Sunwoo. You've made some good progress already," you comforted him with a smile he barely surrendered in return. “It all takes time. Remember, it's better to take small steps than nothing at all." He nodded, but you could tell he wasn't listening to you, a veil of anxiety appearing in his eyes. "See you next week then!" you put your jacket back on, leaving him sitting next to his bag. "Thank you, Y/N," an unconvinced smile spread across his face. You gently pat him on the shoulder before heading back to your best friend, who was standing up to watch the young man you left behind.

"His distress makes me so sad," you said with a sigh, sitting in your best friend's unoccupied chair. Your gaze fell on Sunwoo again, who was staring at the ground as if he were drained of all the energy he had in him. "But I'm sure you'll be able to get him to overcome his fear," Sangyeon was leaning against the window of his cabin, the soft crackle of the radio occupying the silence. “I'm not as confident as you are, but I'll try."

The more Sunwoo came to the pool, the more anxious he seemed, despite making some progress from the previous lesson. He now knew how to stay in the water, all alone where he was, without having to hold onto you or the side of the pool, but it took several weeks of hard work. He still had that panicked look on his face, but he seemed to have mastered that part of his phobia. Sunwoo even confessed to you that he had tried taking one or two baths, which was a big step forward on his part.

"And? How did it feel being in the bath?" “It was weird… I felt a bit uncomfortable, but the hot water felt good. I even wanted to try to put my head underwater, but I didn't have the courage." “Do not forget what I keep telling you over and over, small steps. There's no point in wanting to go too fast, plus you were all alone. One misstep and we can start all over again, so be careful,” you took on a more severe tone to make him understand that he shouldn't let himself be overwhelmed by a sudden rush of confidence, at the risk of losing all the progress you've made so far.

"Do you want to try to float on your back?" He took his gaze away at your suggestion, his eyes moving all over the place as if he were looking for an escape.

He knew you were only suggesting an activity, but he couldn't help but create horrible scenarios in his head. Sunwoo was reassuring himself as best he could: he had researched you on the swimming pool website, as well as your university, and he had come back more confident than the last time. The sight of all your life-guarding and swimming diplomas featured in the pool staff description reassured him and made you completely trustworthy in the young man's eyes.

"I'm going to ask you to move back, and you bring out your abdomen. Think you want to show everyone how great your abs are,” you explained, and he chuckled through his nose while nodding, dimples appearing on the side of his mouth. You slightly pulled him a little further from the edge, but still close enough in case he panicked. "Remember that you can always set your foot on the ground or grab the pool edge if you don't feel like doing it anymore," he agreed, and you moved closer to him, slipping an arm through the middle of his back to accompany him.

He had his eyes closed, and he was shakily controlling his breathing, a flinch seized him as his head touched the surface of the water, but he kept going nonetheless.

"You can do it Sunwoo, I believe in you," you whispered, and he nodded weakly, feeling your arm behind his thighs, holding him to the surface.

He stayed a moment, but he felt a wave of anxiety crash onto him, his heartbeat echoing violently in his ears not helping him to calm down. He opened his eyes, struck dumb with fear, but you caught his gaze instantly. He managed to make out encouraging words coming out of your mouth despite the thickness of the water.

"I'm here, don't worry, I got you, Sunwoo, I got you," you repeated the words over and over to engrave them in his memory, his phobia unfortunately still present despite your ongoing efforts. You moved closer to the edge and rested your knee against the wall, still maintaining Sunwoo on the surface of the water, allowing him to hang onto the edge to feel safe.

"I'm never going to make it," he whispered, rubbing his face, putting his foot on the ground. "No, Sunwoo, it's not the time to let your fear take over and make you give up. Not after all these efforts.You have to pull yourself together and overcome your fear." You let go of him and replaced your hair behind your neck, observing your student. "Easier said than done." He spat involuntarily, his anxiety speaking for him. "I know it's hard, I know it, and I see it, but I'm sure you can do it." "How can you be confident of something so uncertain? What tells you I'm gonna get there?” Sunwoo slightly raised his voice, the frustration flooding his veins.

"Because you are ready to face your fear! Look at yourself, you came of your own free will to the pool to take lessons, which means you want to progress. If you wanted to remain so fearful of the water and drowning, you wouldn't even have made the effort to get here, let alone be in the water with me. I know it is hard, everyone has a phobia, but you have to be patient and allow time to do what it needs to do. I also have a phobia. I am afraid of confined spaces, elevators, and large crowds. Being stuck on the subway with hundreds of other people always feels like I'm going to suffocate or getting crushed to death. It's a different phobia, but it's just as valid as yours," Sunwoo sighed and folded his arms over his chest, listening wearily.

"Okay Sunwoo, I think we're going to stop there for today," you gave him a slight smile which he didn't answer, lost in thought.

You didn't understand. Yet he was on the right track, making progress, but he was now on the verge of giving up everything. How could you make him enjoy swimming and water again?

This question ran through your mind for the rest of the day, your hand gripping the bar of the subway train as you patiently travelled home. Music at full volume in headphones, you tried to create a safe bubble around you to forget the situation you currently were in. As if talking about it this morning with Sunwoo had triggered something for it to happen.

The subway stopped at a fairly popular station, your eyes widening as you noticed the mass of people who were waiting to climb into the train. You squeezed the bar even tighter, your fingers turning white as the doors opened. Closing your eyes, you internally cursed yourself for not waiting for your best friend to finish his shift. You took a deep breath, now feeling the distress Sunwoo experienced when he was in the water. This feeling of suffocation and helplessness in the face of this fear was starting to take over your whole body. You lowered your head to look at the ground to avoid meeting all eyes and the bodies around you. Chills ran through your spine, and your throat tightened, making your breathing, and swallowing a struggle.

You opened your eyes when a hand grabbed your free one, turning your head sharply to the right as fear rose your heart to your throat. Your grip on the bar slightly relaxed as you recognised Sunwoo beside you, holding your hand as tight as he did when he stepped into the water during your first class. You were ready to cry, but you gritted your teeth, looking away as you felt your eyes fill with tears. Sunwoo shuffled around you, a few people groaning as the coach was packed. He managed to make his way to the automatic doors, where he guided you to the window so that you could focus on something other than the mass surrounding you. His hands were on both sides of your head for him to stand upright, subconsciously creating space for you to have enough room to breathe a little easier.

"Thank you," you whispered, and he smiled compassionately, understanding your distress. He moved closer to you to whisper in your ear, his action making your heart skip a beat. "You did it for me at the pool, I don't see why I shouldn't do it for you on the subway," he wiped a tear away with his thumb and weakly smiled as you fidgeted with your hands.

The more your classes continued, the closer you got with your student, the subway event from a few weeks ago having acted as a trigger. Sunwoo understood that you were on his side, that you weren't doing this because you wanted to make money or because you had to. He felt that you genuinely wanted to help him surmount his fear, just as much as he wanted to help you with yours.

Outside of lectures and meetings, you would start spending time together over coffee or chatting, sensing that a friendship was forming. Sunwoo was a very gentle guy, passionate about music and dancing, activities that had helped to drown out his trauma and move on. He was very talented, his ears turning red despite his beanie when you watched his dancing and rapping performances on his phone at a cafe.

___

You took a break from training for a while, you and Sunwoo having to focus on your studies. Despite your part-time job at the pool, you also had a degree to achieve, and it was by far the easiest. You were in law school with Sangyeon, and your student happened to be in biology in a building a few feet from yours. You didn't have time to spend time together. Sangyeon, his girlfriend and you almost lived in each other's house, studying together for your final exams.

Once that affliction was over, you could finally relax, and for both of you, that meant jumping into an Olympic-size pool and swimming laps until you could no longer be able to move. When swimming was your stress reliever, Sangyeon and his girlfriend had some spicy intercourses that allowed them to get rid of the built-up pressure together. Since they were not as tensed as you, Sangyeon gave up earlier than you, wrapping himself in his towel before sitting down to watch you swim.

As you were getting rid of all your frustration and exam stress by pounding your feet in the water, a familiar face appeared from the changing rooms as you lifted your head to breathe. You briefly smiled before putting your head back under the water and swinging your arms above your head, waving your pelvis before repeating the movements.

"Nice to see you here, Sunwoo," you said, stopping at the end of your lap with a smile on your face, lifting your goggles. He sat by the pool and dipped his feet in the water, looking at you with a smirk. "I was bored now that the exams are over, so I thought I could drop by and see you," you placed a hand to your heart, acting fake touched by his words. You started swimming again as not to lose your energy nor the rhythm you had managed to keep after a few laps.

Sunwoo watched you go to the other end of the pool, your movements and form hypnotising him. He desired to become as graceful and comfortable in the water as you were, but he still had a long way to go. You got introduced to swimming as soon as you could walk, your parents wanting to pass on their passion to you.

The lifeguard gently smacked Sunwoo's shoulder and winked to greet him while he was leaving. Your student nodded while shifting his attention back to you, who was coming back to finish your training. Putting a tried hand against the edge of the pool, you grabbed the bottle of water before taking a few gulps as you caught your breath. A sudden, swift movement surprised you, your eyes widening as you saw Sunwoo's figure dive above your head, coming back to the surface with a smile on his face. He laughed when you choked and spat out the water you had in your mouth, shocked at his sudden, magical progress.

"Sunwoo, what the fuck! You were still hesitant to put your head underwater the last time we saw each other! What happened?" You yelled in confusion as you approached the young man, who smiled and ran a hand through his wet hair to get a better look at you. "I… lied. I took classes with Sangyeon while you were studying. I wanted to give you a nice surprise at the end of the exams…" you shook your head, scoffing, slightly offended at the amazing progress he had made with Sangyeon, as you followed him for months. "You made more progress with my best friend in a few weeks than with me in several months," you said, and he chuckled, a big smile on his face.

Were you doing something wrong?

Sunwoo saw your slightly crestfallen face and moved closer to grab hold of your forearm. You looked at him sideways for long seconds, finally smiling when you saw the teasing look that decorated his eyes.

"You did most of the work, Sangyeon just took the opportunity to show me other things." “Obviously. That fucker always does what’s the easiest. He certainly isn't going to bother to get his hands dirty," Sunwoo laughed at your statement, noting that this wasn't probably the first time your best friend's done this to you. You sighed and instantly lifted your head as your friend took off your swim cap and brushed the baby hair out of your face. "I wouldn't think twice if all of this had to happen again. I would take lessons behind your back with Sangyeon if I had to, again, because nothing can replace the surprise that shone in your eyes when you saw me dive. It was priceless,” you rolled your eyes and looked away, Sunwoo's fingers grabbed your chin to make you look at him in the eyes.

Not only did Sangyeon teach him how to swim, but now he's a huge flirt! Where did the shy guy that was terrified of water go?

"Whatever," you retorted, and he arched an eyebrow. "Oh. You don't believe me?" "Not so much, no. It sounds like a crappy plan any-" a soft source of warmth rushed to your face, feeling pressure against your lips, allowing you only milliseconds of what was currently happening.

Sunwoo's arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you to his slender body. One hand running around your curves to come to rest on your cheek, cradling it tenderly, contrasting with the fervour of the kiss you were exchanging. Pressing your hands against his chest after making out for a few minutes, his lips left yours, leaving you both breathless, the workout you had just done not helping you in this situation.

"I wanted to confess to you another way, but you talk too much, I had to do something to make you quiet," you pat him gently on the forearm, laughing, a wave of embarrassment seizing your body. "You're done? Can I start swimming again?" You changed the subject, and Sunwoo smirked, leaning against the wall of the pool.

The rays of sun hitting the water gave his skin a luminous complexion, his beautiful eyes turning a lighter shade of chocolate brown as he looked at you with a thin, satisfied smirk. He watched you silently, his eyes unrestrainedly longing for your lips. You moved closer to him and planted your eyes in his, finding their dark colour again. He grabbed your cap and threw it behind him, landing near your bag so you couldn’t go back to swimming.

"If I was mean I'd press your head underwater, but I don't want to ruin our efforts, so you better run fast," you threatened him, but he didn't move an inch, always watching you with a teasing look as his elbows rested on the edge of the pool. He cleared his throat and stared at you, a new sparkle lightning his eyes.

“Sangyeon told me about a technique that helps reduce stress well, tested and approved by him and his partner. Do you want to give it a try?" You quirked an eyebrow and your tongue poked the inner part of your cheek, rolling your eyes before staring at him, moving closer to his ear. "I'll meet you in the showers, you better be good if you don’t want me to kick your ass," you said, and he hoisted himself out of the water in no time.

“Noted,” he started and went on one knee to near his face with yours, “teacher,” he winked and threw your towel around his neck before confidently walking towards the showers, sending you an explicit wink as you scoffed at his behaviour, shaking your head as you rushed out of the pool.

What has Sangyeon done to your student…

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

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By My Side (Part 5)

Summary: The reader has finally hired a replacement manager and after a dinner with her family, she and Jensen confront some underlying feelings...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Square: Free Space

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: mature (language, smut (m/f))

A/N: Enjoy!

A/N #2: Written for @spnkinkbingo

_________

You stretched as you woke the next morning, getting ready for the day of entertaining your family. You bumped into Jensen in the kitchen, a pair of jeans and a simple black henley on him. You smiled but he frowned and you instantly made a face.

“Y/N, don’t turn off your phone ever. It’s a rule, remember?” he said before returning to slurping up his cereal.

“Oh. Sorry. I forgot,” you said.

“Please try not to do it again,” he said. He finished with his bowl and you took the cereal from nearby, pouring yourself some. “Are you deciding on a new manager today?”

“Yeah. I was thinking of that David guy?”

“The british one?”

“No, that was the Mark one. He was scottish I think. I’m not positive,” you said.

“Is David the one that had that intern? The little guy?” he asked.

“Alex? No, he was his just his driver. It doesn’t matter. I was thinking of David. What do you think?”

“Why does it matter what I think?”

“You did full background checks on all of these guys,” you said. “Who do you trust?”

“Honestly?” he asked. “I like Jake.”

“The young one?”

“He lacks the experience of the others but I don’t see him screwing you over. He was a navy cadet in college. Had to drop out due to a knee injury. Him I trust. Not that I don’t the others but I got a good feeling from the kid.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” you said. He stood and you grabbed the milk, Jensen wiping off his mouth. “Have fun with your sister.”

“She’s got a work thing at the moment but hopefully she wraps up soon and I can take her out for some fun for a bit. I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

“Later, Jay,” you said, getting a wave from him as he walked out. You poured the milk into your bowl and took out your phone, dialing and hearing a ring tone a few times.

“Hello?” the other end answered.

“Hi, Jake? This is Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you were still interested in the manager position? If you are, you are in for a fun first day with that restaurant photo.”

“Mmm. Smells great in here,” hummed Jensen when he walked into the kitchen that evening. Your mom smiled and immediately rushed over, Jensen tensing up as she gave him a hug.

“Mom. Don’t bug Jensen,” you said.

“It’s alright,” he said, noticing your brothers were nowhere to be found. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Oh his arms are even bigger than you said! He’s handsome too,” she said. You rolled your eyes as you worked over the pot at the stove, Chuck turning around beside you and chuckling. “Jensen, this is my husband, Chuck.”

“Nice to meet you sir,” said Jensen, holding out a hand.

“You know everything about us already, don’t you,” he said as he shook it.

“Pretty much,” said Jensen. “Y/N’s safety is important and knowing about her family is part of that.”

“Well we certainly feel a lot better with her hiring someone. We’ve never been fans of her living alone,” he said.

“Y/N is quite capable. I’m just here to stop those situations from ever happening,” said Jensen.

“You will be joining us to eat, won’t you? Y/N and Chuck are making us dinner,” said your mom.

“That’s very kind of you mam but-”

“I insist,” she said.

“Just let it go Jensen,” you said. “This’ll be done soon if you want to tell the guys.”

Your parents headed outside, Jensen taking up Chuck’s spot beside you and stirring the cooked vegetables in the pan.

“None of them have any idea about the fake kidnapping or anything else, do they.”

“Nope. Nothing besides what happened last night. Michael and Nick know about the manager thing but that’s it. I’d prefer to keep it that way,” you said. The timer went off and Jensen got it, pushing some of the food around with a wooden spoon.

“They won’t hear anything from me,” he said. “Smells delicious.”

“Thanks. How’d it go with your sister?”

“Good. I need to discuss something with you later after your family is gone for the night.”

“Everything alright?” you asked.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said, the back door opening. “Let’s dig in while it’s hot.”

“Jensen,” you said, finding him out by the pool that night, his feet soaking in the water. “My folks and the wonder twins are gone for the night.”

“Wonder twins,” he chuckled. “They act differently when your parents are around.”

“You picked up on that huh.”

“It’s pretty obvious,” he said. You sat beside him and stuck your feet in, Jensen leaning back on his palms.

“What’s going on big guy?”

“Are you asking as my boss or my friend?”

“Friend,” you said, bumping his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“My sister wasn’t too happy to see big brother on the news nearly getting shot at. She asked me to consider a different line of work,” he said.

“Oh,” you said.

“Yeah. I’m not quitting, just so you know. A random guy running from the cops doesn’t scare me. Only reason I was on the news was cause of you,” he said.

“There’s a but in there somewhere though.”

“No, not really,” he said. “Just wanted to talk to you about it.”

“So there’s no problem.”

“I like when there’s no problems,” he chuckled. “My job is a lot easier when it’s simple like that.”

“You still have your gun on you.”

“Precaution,” he said. He sat up and took it out from behind his back. “You ever shoot one?”

“Pretend but real no, I haven’t. Can I hold it?” you asked. He set it in your hands, watching you look it over for a moment.

“You’ve had gun training,” he said.

“First season went through a lot of that stuff on the show. We get refreshers,” you said. “Colt?”

“Yes it is,” he said. “You use a glock on your show I believe.”

Your head popped up and he laughed.

“Yes, even I do occasionally watch TV. Nice gun safety. You never leave your finger on the trigger.”

“Not supposed to, even with a fake gun they taught us,” you said. You lifted it up and held it out, finding it to be heavier than the one you were used to. “I like the grip.”

“You’d probably like a smaller Colt, fit your hands better,” he said. You handed it back to him and he tucked it away. “You see where the safety was on it?”

“Yeah?” you said. He reached behind himself and took your hand, guiding it to the back holster.

“If I can’t use this, grips on the right side. Take it out, flick off the safety, point and squeeze. It’s that simple.”

“I sincerely hope I never have to put that into practice,” you said as he dropped your hand. Your finger brushed against his back, Jensen frozen solid before you pulled away.

“Any day I don’t have to touch it is a good one,” he said, your hand settling back in your lap. “That...tickled was all.”

“Green beans and tickling. You got some funny forms of kryptonite, Ackles,” you said.

“Beats actual kryptonite,” he said. “Been awhile since I’ve been tickled.”

“I bet you like it. Being able to feel vulnerable and safe with someone.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Your feet kicked in the water, a smile growing on your face. He bumped your shoulder and your turned your head. He looked different, a softness about him.

“Are you happy?” you asked.

“What?”

“Are you happy? I...I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose this job over other things in life, like a relationship. You can have both, Jensen.”

“I’m lost.”

“I’m just saying...you can have a girlfriend and be my bodyguard. You don’t have to pick one or the other.”

“Girls get jealous,” he said. “In my experience. The hours are crap. The inconsistent schedule. I’m too…”

“Too what?”

“Last girlfriend I had...I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” He rubbed the back of his neck and you lightly nudged his foot in the water. “She thought I was too broken for a normal relationship.”

“What?”

“I should have kept my mouth shut,” he mumbled. He started to stand but you grabbed his arm, Jensen sighing and turning to you. “What? I think she might have had a point.”

“I think that was horrible of her to say and I’m sorry she never saw the real you cause him? He is so not broken.”

“You have this perfect image of me. Strong and capable. Dominant. Alpha. In charge, gives no fucks. That’s the bodyguard. That’s not me.”

“I know. I know Jensen likes being tickled,” you said. He rolled his eyes but you caught his chin, Jensen swallowing. “I know he likes the touch of soft fleece and expensive navy boxer briefs. I know he likes classic rock and sleeping in and likes two cream, one sugar in his coffee. I know he talks to his parents every Thursday night for at least an hour. I know he’s quiet around people he doesn’t know and I know he opens up when he’s well and truly comfortable with someone. I know he’s kind and I know he has nightmares sometimes. I know he can play the piano and guitar and he sings in the shower when he’s happy and he checks on me at night and puts my blankets back on me and doesn’t say a word about it, even when I thought he hated me.”

“You pay attention to me,” he said quietly. “Even though you don’t like me around.”

“I don’t like the bodyguard. He’s okay sometimes but a bit much all the time. But Jensen...him I like. I like him alot.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done. What’s been done to me.”

“You’re not broken, Jensen. I’m never going to believe that so don’t even try.”

He put a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in close, so close you could feel his breath on your face.

“You’re supposed to tell me I’m screwed up. We’re not supposed to be friends. Don’t you understand that?” he said. Your nose pressed against his, green eyes locked on yours.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand that,” you said. “What do you want?”

“I can’t have what I want,” he breathed out.

“You might be wrong about that. Actually, I’m positive you are,” you said, his hand sliding up a few inches into your hair. “Stop being scared and just tell me what you want.”

He leaned in the last inch between you, gentle lips connecting with yours. He didn’t move for a few seconds, eyes opening when he inched away just slightly. You stared at him and you saw him get the message, another kiss landing on your lips, his free hand sliding around your back. Your arms went over his shoulders, Jensen leaving kitten kisses on you before connecting roughly, giving your whole body a squeeze.

“Bedroom,” you breathed out. He moved back long enough to take his feet out of the water. He hoisted you up and carried you inside, your arms and legs wrapped around him as you returned to kissing him. There was a light scratch from the stubble on his jaw and you tugged on his bottom lip, Jensen pausing as he tried to shut the door behind him with one hand.

You took the opportunity to tease him, kissing under his jaw while he got the back door shut and locked, his hand slapping the alarm system and the little ping saying it was armed. He arched his neck back and spun around, pushing you up against the wall. You squeezed him tighter, getting gentle bites along your collar bone.

He tore the two of you away and rushed you upstairs, stepping up onto your bed and walking forward on his knees until he could lower you down to your back. His eyes looked darker but playful as he moved up and leaned over you.

“Condom?” he asked.

“I’m on medication,” you said. “You clean?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Same.”

“Good cause I really don’t think I can wait any longer to do this,” he said. He tore off his shirt and you immediately shot your hands up to his chest, running your fingers down it.

“You’re so damn hot,” you said. He rolled off the bed and dropped his pants, giving you time to get your shirt off. By the time your head wasn’t covered, you had a perfect view of his ass, creamy and perky. Your bra went off quickly, Jensen turning around and making you pause.

“What?” he asked, glancing down at himself and then you.

“Lucky me,” you said. He smirked and you kicked off your shorts and underwear, Jensen crawling back on the bed and hovering over you. You kissed him and he planted his forearm by your head, his other hand trailing down to your breast. He kneaded the flesh gently, swiping a thumb over the bud and getting a tiny gasp out of you. He teased the same nipple with light touches and twists before working the other one over.

By the time his hand made its way between your folds you were soaking wet already.

“How do you want it?” he murmured against your lips, circling your clit lightly with his thumb.

“Want what?” you asked, arching your hips up into his touch.

“Slow. Fast. What do you like?” he asked, kissing your jaw as your breath hitched.

“Show me how you’ve imagined this going,” you said. He smiled and you felt the head of his cock brush you folds. He teased the head against your clit a few times before you reached down and were guiding him into your hole.

He was a smidge thicker than you were expecting and his length was perfect, solid, long but not too much. He surprised you by wrapping his arms around you pulling you to sit up on his lap, your legs hanging around his waist. He thrust his hips up and you bit your bottom lip, landing back down on him. He moved again and hit your g-spot, your jaw dropping.

“That’s the spot,” he murmured, kissing you as he started a slow and steady rhythm. You hung on for the ride, his hands on your thighs, thick cock pumping into you over and over and over again. You’d been able to play on your own and hit that spot but never with a guy, never had that low pressure simmering in your core.

God it was going to fucking destroy you when it hit.

You couldn’t wait.

You smiled as your nerves tingled, Jensen kissing you all over, his grip strong but everything else soft and gentle. His hair started to dampen with sweat and and you felt a layer cover your body, the steady pace getting you both closer.

He was nipping at your shoulder when you rolled your hips, Jensen grunting lowly and burying his face in your neck. That was a sound you could definitely do with more of and you did the motion again, Jensen pushing you onto his cock this time. You both moaned, Jensen’s slow pace picking up just a hair.

You were rolling your hips when his tip pounded inside of you and the low pressure started to explode inside you. You gasped and weren’t even sure what the hell kind of sound you’d made, suddenly aware of hot wetness filling you up. Jensen tensed up and slowly started to stop moving, your breath finally coming back to you as he stilled. He dropped his forehead on your shoulder and panted, your hands running up and down his back, playing with his hair some.

You giggled, Jensen letting out one himself and you swore your heart couldn’t have melted any faster. You picked your head up as he did, giving him a long kiss. He rested his forehead on your own, a smile dancing across his face.

“That was the best sex of my fucking life,” you said. He smiled hard and lowered you back down to the bed, holding up a finger. He pulled out and took a few shaky steps before going into your bathroom. He returned with a washcloth, wiping you clean. He tossed it back in the bathroom before he bent down to his pants. You frowned, Jensen looking back as he unclipped his holster from his belt. He walked it over to the unused nightstand and set it on top before he slid next to you. You pushed the covers back and slid under the sheet together, Jensen rolling you close to him and up against his chest.

“I don’t hookup,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. You shut your eyes and burrowed in a bit closer, Jensen pulling you to use his chest as a pillow. “I really liked that. It was fun.”

“We should do it again sometime,” he said. He turned his head and you smiled, Jensen moving a stray piece of hair away from your cheek.

“I would be much safer if you slept close by, wouldn’t I?” you asked coyly, Jensen already seeing through it.

“Oh yes, much safer.”

“Maybe you should sleep in here from now on...for safety.”

“In the name of safety, for sure,” he said, kissing your temple. “Real talk for a second. If this is just a hookup for you can you let me now over-”

You put a hand over his mouth and stared at him, slowly moving it away and giving him a kiss.

“I like you, Jensen. I really like you.”

He smiled and took your hand, laying it over his chest so you were holding him.

“Goodnight,” you said, kissing his shoulder.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, lightly dancing his fingers over your hip. “Sleep good.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

#spnkinkbingo #spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #au #bodyguard!jensen #bodyguard!AU #bodyguard!jensen x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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tefilovesreading · 4 years

Text

It’s a match! Part. 1

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem!Reader

Word count: +1,7k

Warnings: language, mention of alcohol.

A/N: This is a mini series, I’m not sure how many parts it’s gonna have and there’s gonna be some texts in between. LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED.

Edited by: @theamazingtomholland

MASTERLIST // PART 2 // PART 3

She felt her hands start sweating as she saw the small circle slowly filling up, letting her know that the app was being downloaded. She knew what a dating app was, how it worked and what was its purpose, but never created her account, not that she needed it before because she had a boyfriend. Her roommate, on the other hand, was well acquainted with dating apps, and they’d spent nights swiping through the profiles together.

Now that she was single for the first time since she graduated from high school, her roommate and best friend had convinced her to download Tinder and have fun.

“You don’t even have to go and meet the guy, Y/N,” Jo had said with a beaming smile to encourage her when they met for coffee earlier that day, “just have a look and see if you find someone you’d want to talk to.”

She nibbled on her lip when the circle filled up entirely and the icon appeared on her screen, bright and inviting. Putting her phone down, she decided she’d create her account later, for now, downloading it was more than enough.

In her sophomore year, she broke up with her boyfriend because they couldn’t find time to be together, too busy with classes, exams, and part-time jobs. But that didn’t last long, ‘cause they got back together after three weeks.

Those three weeks ignited a spark in her, suddenly things were more exciting to her, and she didn’t feel like she was acting how others expected her to. Y/N felt a kind of freedom that made her go on a date with her co-worker, sure they just went for a coffee together once and decided that they were better off as friends, but that small rejection made her want to make that spark disappear.

Being with Lance made things easier, they knew each other since they were little, and that meant she didn’t have to open up to let him know her flaws and fears, because he knew her like the palm of his hand. Being with him made her feel safe, even when they were apart during his first year of college since she was a year younger than him and was still in high school when he left for college, but that safety net vanished when Lance decided he wanted to spend time overseas after he graduated from college. And it was useless to wait for him if he wasn’t even sure he wanted to come back.

Eight months later, Y/N felt that spark reigniting again, making her feel like she was missing something. Ever since Lance left, she spent too much time afraid to put herself out there. How can you let someone into your life and trust them to not hurt you? After all, she trusted Lance for so long just to get hurt because they didn’t want the same things, and their paths went in different ways. But Y/N knew she couldn’t hide much longer, she wanted to go out, have fun, go on dates and meet new people, she just didn’t know how to start.

Her phone vibrated with a new notification from her best friend, and she snorted at her text.

Jo: Any matches yet heartbreaker???

If only Jo knew she still wasn’t able to bring herself into making an account. Maybe she could choose the pictures first, plan her bio, and then create it. Planning that out was definitely better than staring at the app icon.

Y/N: Not yet, but I’ll let you know ;)

After an hour of scrolling through her photos, Y/N chose five pictures where she looked decent. Hell, she looked really hot in one or two of those, and she wasn’t going to act as if that wasn’t true.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered to herself after her account was finally set up.

It was a strange feeling swiping through the profiles, reading their bios, and rolling her eyes at some of them. But after a few minutes, she started enjoying it, not even feeling bad if she didn’t match with a guy.

She smiled at the simple bio on her screen and swiped right, not even bothering to go through his other photos. He was cute, he seemed like he liked to have fun, and even though he was cute, he was also hot. A dangerous mix, but a really nice one.

It’s a match!

“Honey I’m home!” her best friend sang, entering the living room.

“Shit Jo!” Y/N scolded the girl, “you scared me.”

“Why?” Jo faked an offended look, “were you sending dirty messages or something?”

“Oh shut up,” Y/N said, handing her phone over to her friend with a sheepish smile on her face, “check out my last match.”

“Okay, so he likes outdoor activities, he plays the guitar, and he has a cute smile,” her friend listed, swiping through his photos, “what are you waiting for, Y/N? Send him a message!”

“I was actually waiting for him to send one first,” she admitted, feeling her cheeks heat up, “you know I suck with conversations over chat.”

“But what if he’s waiting for you to talk to him, and you don’t do it,” Y/N looked at her friend and knew she was already making up a whole movie in her head, about how they could be soulmates, but they would never know if she didn’t send him a text.

“Fine!” She huffed and took her phone from her friend’s hands, “Do I send him a hello or what?”

“No, that’s too dry,” Jo replied, “you should ask him about where he took that picture, the one where he’s in the snow.”

She bit her bottom lip to distract herself from the fact that she felt as if her stomach was tied up in knots. He was really cute, and she had a good feeling about him, almost as if the universe was telling her to go for it, meet up with him and have fun.

Hesitating at first, she let her finger hover over the little “send” button for a few seconds, before pressing the screen and sending the text.

Y/N: Hey! Where did you take the first pic? The place looks great

“What now?” Jo looked at her with one of her eyebrows arched.

“We wait, you idiot.”

“I need to do something,” Y/N locked her phone and got up, “if I stay on that couch waiting for a reply I’m gonna end up with no nails.”

“I did your nails last night, Y/N, don’t ruin my work,” Jo complained, “why don’t you cook dinner today?, and I’ll wash the dishes, so you can text with that guy if he replies to you by the time we’re done eating.”

“I’m gonna ignore the fact that it was your turn, Jo” she pointed out but made her way to the kitchen anyway, “and you better wash, dry, and put the dishes back in the cabinets.”

Cooking was the perfect distraction, and the glass of wine she drank while they were eating helped her loosen up just enough to check her phone without feeling like she was getting back some important results.

Charlie: It’s in Canada Charlie: Sulphur Mountain Trail! Charlie: I like your smile btw

She smiled with excitement when she opened the app and saw those three messages, and just as she was about to respond, Charlie sent another one.

Charlie: How was your day?? Y/N: It was good, pretty relaxing actually Y/N: Yours?? Charlie: Great! I went hiking with a friend, so now I’m just chilling at home Y/N: I’m assuming you’re into hiking, don’t you??? Charlie: Hahaha yeah you’re right Charlie: I guess I enjoy being outside, it keeps my mind occupied

Y/N: I get it, I’m not really into outdoor activities Y/N: I mean Y/N: I don’t mind going on a hike once in a while, but I prefer reading, painting, or playing some music Y/N: To keep my mind occupied

Five texts in a row. Was that too much? She didn’t want to appear intense, but she also didn’t want to send just one massive text and type it for way too long.

Charlie: You play an instrument?? Charlie: I love music Y/N: Yeah I play the piano Y/N: I just don’t have one with me now, so I haven’t played in a while Charlie: Oh! That sucks! Charlie: When I moved here I think I packed my guitars first and then the rest of my stuff

Y/N let out a soft laugh at his text, he did seem like the kind of guy to pack random stuff before things that he might actually need. She should’ve done the same, she missed playing the piano, and now that she was miles away from her parents’ house it wasn’t like she could just go and play. Especially because she didn’t even know how to drive a car.

Y/N: Should’ve done the same if I’m honest Y/N: Where are you from? You said you moved here

After reading his answer to her last question, she groaned in embarrassment because it was the most obvious answer, and yet she didn’t notice it.

Charlie: I’m Canadian

She lost track of time talking to him about things they both enjoyed doing, what was their favorite movie, favorite musician, and to her surprise it was so easy to talk to him about small things like that could help you a lot to get to know another person. Y/N got startled when Jo touched her shoulder to get her attention.

“I’m off to bed, babe,” Y/N dodged when her friend tried to ruffle her hair as if she was a little kid, “don’t go to bed too late.”

“I won’t mom,” she replied jokingly, “sweet dreams, Jo.”

With a heavy sigh, Y/N typed a message, telling him that she needed to get some rest and that she was hoping they could keep talking the next day.

Charlie: Do you mind if I ask you for your number?? Charlie: I’d love to call you or FaceTime with you if you’re okay with that

“Shit, shit, shit,” she whispered, wishing her best friend hadn’t gone to bed already. Of course, she wanted to give him her number, but was she supposed to give her number to the first guy she talked to on Tinder? “fuck it, I’m doing it.”

Y/N sent him her number and after telling him goodnight, she closed the app and got ready for bed. She really had a good feeling about this whole thing, and she couldn’t put her finger on what it was, because the feeling started even before they even matched.

Maybe it was just fate doing its work.

#charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie fluff #jatp cast imagine #charlie gillespie

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misslilli · 3 years

Text

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 27 - Embarrassments And Evil Plans

[ FM ]

It’s not like I planned it or anything, but on the same day next week, I find myself back outside, walking the streets of Plymouth. Last weekend, snow has finally fallen but it had melted right away, leaving an ugly brown slush in the streets and pools of water on the floors. Somehow, I end up in front of the only Starbucks in town, oh what a coincidence.

I enter the coffee shop a little too exuberant for the wet floor and my dress shoes, so before I can catch myself, I slip in the puddle and fall face first to the floor. It knocks the air right out of me, stupid snow!

“Well well… isn’t it a nice surprise to have a man fall at your feet, in a Starbucks of all places.” I recognize the teasing voice even without looking up, my face burning with embarrassment. When I do look up, I’m faced with a smirking Scully waiting in line for her weekly sugar fix.

“Are you okay?,” she asks between laughs after she helped me up.

“Aside from my wounded ego? Yeah, fine.” I grumble at her laughter, that’s not helping little lady.

“Sorry. Come on, I’ll buy you and your fractured ego some coffee.” We step up to the counter to the eagerly waiting barista.

“Black coffee for Bob.” she says. “Peppermint Mocha, sweet cream foam and an extra shot of espresso for Nancy.” I say.

She hands over her credit card and at the end of the counter, as we wait, she raises an eyebrow at me. “Nancy? Really? Next time, I’m choosing the undercover names!” ‘She said next time!’

“I’m curious about that sugar mixed with more sugar concoction of yours, can I get a sip?” She gives me a ‘Yeah right’ look.

“Nu-huh, you’ve proven youself to be a concoction-snob, you’re not getting a sip.”

“Ouch, there goes my recently mended fractured ego again!”

As if we’ve never been doing anything else, we walk out of Starbucks and turn to head towards the junction where we’ll have to part ways.

“You should really invest in some sensible winter boots, city boy! These are just a safety hazard!” I burn my tongue on my coffee with a hiss.

“That won’t go well with the GQ cover look I’m going for, to be honest.”

“Well, maybe you should consider modeling for Land’s End if you don’t want to kill yourself in the winter that’s about to come!”

When she almost slips herself in her high-heeled boots, I offer her my arm. “Maybe you should start by taking your own advice, being on the Vogue side of the shoe department yourself!”

“I need all the height I can get, otherwise I won’t be able to see across the Starbucks counter.” I chuckle, taking another sip, my tongue still burning.

“Sooo how has your week been so far?” She goes on to tell me stories about her kids at school and the girls, then I tell her about my new case, as much as I’m allowed to, anyway. I also tell her about how my mother, while very helpful, is slowly driving me up the wall.

Skirting the fine line between friends and flirting, we never actually talk about what we are to each other now. I’m just glad we’re on speaking terms again and enjoy her company. Also, I’d rather chew my own arm off before I put myself into the friend zone voluntarily. We don’t arrange to meet anywhere else, like on a date - that would be like pouring gasoline over the line and setting the damn thing on fire.

We part ways with a short hug and head off in different directions, the coffee and something else warming us up from the inside.

—————

[ Teena ]

Over the course of the past few weeks, I’ve seen quite an improvement happening with my son, he’s not obsessing over work anymore and he seems to be getting better. Why, I can’t say, maybe it’s therapy, maybe it’s me taking care of him, maybe it’s something entirely different, like what’s happening during his walks on Tuesdays he keeps insisting on.

Either way, I’m glad that he’s doing better, I hate seeing him hurting.

Felix and I are spending a lot of quality time together and I marvel at the amazing child he’s become, despite his history. His mother is a piece of work in itself, she’s late every single time she picks him up from school, and this week, of course she does it again.

The call from Principal Skinner comes on the landline and I happen to be the one who takes it, which is how I found out about this situation in the first place. Felix doesn’t like to talk about it and, knowing my opinion of his ex-wife, Fox avoids talking to me about her like the plague.

The weekend passes, we talk, we cook, we laugh, we reminisce about the old days and I can’t wait for Sunday evening, when Felix returns with his mother.

She sends him into the house without coming in, which is rude in its own way, so I leave the two boys to themselves and step out of the house. “Diana, a word please.”

She’s surprised to see me there and I wonder if she talks to her son at all during those weekends because if she did, I’m sure he’d mention that I’m staying at their house for a while.

“I heard that you were late for pick-up again this Friday.” The defiant look she gives me is not new, I’ve seen it a thousand times when I tell her how I feel about her parenting abilities. She doesn’t think I have a say in the matter, but I’ve raised two children and I’m fiercely protective of them as well as my grandson.

“And…?,” she has the audacity to ask.

“It’s disrespectful to your child and his needs that you don’t seem to care enough to be on time. We’d appreciate it if you made an effort to be on time from now on. Goodnight.” Not waiting for a reply, I close the door in her face. I’ve said all I had to say.

—————

[ Felix ]

“… and a partrige in a pear treeee.” We finish singing all thousand verses of The 12 days of Christmas just before the bell rings for recess, proud that we mostly got it right. It’s really hard!

Sitting in my designated spot on the teacher’s bench, I take my chance of talking to Miss Anderson alone while Miss Scully is settling yet another fight between her kids on the playground.

“Hey Miss Anderson, can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure Felix, what’s up?”

“It’s about the trip to the Chocolate Factory on the last Thursday before Christmas. My dad’s coming on it too to chaperone and I was wondering if you could maybe put him with another group? I know it’s not very nice but I don’t want him to ruin my good reputation. He’s such a dork!” The last part I stage-whisper, to the laugh of Mrs. Anderson.

“It’s not very nice, no, but I get it, it’s no fun if your parents come on school trips. I’ll see what I can do, alright?”

An idea has formed in my head since the day dad told me he’d be coming on the school trip, an evil genius idea. I hope Miss Anderson will go along with it.

Feigning nonchalance, I swing my legs, pretending that this idea just popped into my head right now. This is the most important part in my evil plan so I need to get it right.

“Soooo… maybe we could put him with the fourth grade kids? They’re randy and loud and they fight so much, I think they need someone like dad to keep them in line!” That’ll teach him not to come on school trips anymore, hee hee.

Why Miss Anderson looks at me with surprise, I have no idea, but she agrees. Yes! My evil plan has been set in motion.

#moving past the angsty sh*t yay #on to happier times #I'm having so much fun with this!#xf #the x files #xf fanfic #msr #felix felicis

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tenaciouspeacesandwich · 3 years

Text

PSA: Online Safety

Ok so normally I don’t post personal stuff on here, but I saw something today that made me remember this and I knew I had to post it somewhere.

When I was 14, I was really into digital art and online forums where people could post and discuss their paintings/drawings. As someone w/adhd and social anxiety, the internet was somewhere I felt I could be myself and be in control of my social interactions. It wasn’t as intimidating as making friends or talking to people in real life, and I built genuine social skills on there. However, I wasn’t aware of how dangerous these digital communities could be.

I had (still do) a really great relationship with my parents growing up, and they made sure to have the discussion with me about stranger danger and how you should never give away personal info online, all the classics. I never really hid anything I did on the computer from them, and they trusted me completely. They monitored our internet that was considered acceptable by most parenting standards (i.e. server blockers for adult content, etc.). But none of that mattered when I met someone on a discussion board who convinced me to meet up with them irl.

Obviously, looking back on it now years later, it was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. Even at the time, I remember being a little scared when this person asked me to meet them at a public park. They were one of my online ‘art buddies’, ppl who critiqued and gave advice for your submissions, and we’d ‘known’ each other for a while. They complimented my sketches, gave me great tips on how to draw better, and I was really inspired by all the works they posted. Then the conversations meandered naturally from our posts to our lives, casual talk like how we hated homework but liked our teachers, our siblings were annoying, etc.

WARNING: DESCRIPTION OF GROOMING AHEAD

Then, one day they messaged me complementing my self-portrait that I had posted. It was by no means realism, more of a cartoon version of myself, but their flattering words were enough to make my introverted,14-year-old self swoon. I was so shy in school, no one even knew i was there half the time, let alone told me i was beautiful. It made me feel special, valued, less alone. Looking back now, I see it for what it was. But at the time, those words only made me trust this person more. So when they mentioned that they lived in my city and asked if I wanted to meet up at a public park, it wasn’t a huge red flag to me. It was a public place, right? It’s not like they were asking for my social or my address or anything. And they wouldn’t be picking me up in their car, the park was close enough to my school that I could bike the 4 miles there myself. We were just gonna hang out at the picnic tables for a couple of hours, no big deal.

Even though I’d seen this park before, I’d never actually been to it. My parents never took us there, and I always just assumed it was because there were other, closer parks to our house that were just as nice. It didn’t seem sketchy to me as I rode up closer, other than the fact that some of the playground equipment was rusty and the swing set had overgrown weeds on it.

I remember this day so clearly even though it’s been 10 years now: I was pedaling up this mini-hill that went thru a neighborhood, and the park was at the bottom of the hill on the other side. I remember stopping at the top of the hill to catch my breath for a second on the sidewalk, and I looked down at the park. From where I was standing, I could see the picnic tables and the parking lot. My friend had been messaging me on my phone, and had been updating me ever since I left school on my bike. They said they were already there and had been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes, and that when I arrived I’d be able to find them really easily because they had a red convertible in the parking lot, and they had managed to get us a table that we didn’t have to share. I texted them when I left, asking if there were a lot of people at the park that day. Their reply was really distinct, because instead of ‘yeah, kinda’ or ‘not really’, they texted back; ‘Super crowded, some kind of birthday party at the gazebo- All kinds of moms lol’ . Reading that gave me assurance that I didn’t know I needed, and that’s why I remember the dread and fear I felt when I looked down at the park.

There was no one there.

No party, no kids, nothing- the gazebo was empty, the playground deserted, everything was just quiet.

Except for this one man sitting at a picnic table, who had to be at least my father’s age. There was a gray sedan parked in the lot (i’m assuming his, but I don’t know), and the man was looking down at his phone as he sat at the table.

I texted my ‘friend’ again, still hidden by the garage wall of someone’s house where my bike was parked at the top of the hill. My ‘friend’ was supposed to be a guy my age who was wearing a pink floyd t shirt and black jeans. I asked him, ‘is there food at the party?’

I got an instant reply; ‘Yeah, a grillout- smells amazing but i don’t think they’ll let us have anything lol’.

I turned around and got on my bike, looking over my shoulder every 5 minutes, terrified that this guy might have seen and followed me. Thankfully, there was never anyone behind me, and I didn’t stop until I got home. I went to my room and deleted my entire account from that website, blocking my ‘friend’ first and deleting all of our conversation history in a panic before making sure every trace of me was gone forever. I sat there in my room for a while just staring at the wall.

I don’t know for sure if the man that I saw had anything to do with the person I was messaging- I don’t know him or why he was at the park. All of these things are connections I drew from what I knew via the website and our conversation, and what I could see with my own eyes. But more powerful than any of that was the immense, strong gut feeling I had wash over me when I was about to meet that person. Something just felt very, very wrong. I was still happy and excited to meet them, but that happiness was soured by that innate reaction of dread and foreboding that just screamed at me to go away.

I never told my parents about this, and still haven’t to this day. I know they would blame themselves for me being lured by this person (if that was in fact what happened), and that is the last thing I want- they did everything right.

That’s my entire point in posting this: my parents did everything by the book, took the experts advice, had an open and trusting relationship with me, and monitored our internet access. But I still made this happen, I still got my way, and I’m convinced that it’s by sheer luck that I’m still here today. I got up the courage to ask them one day, about 3 years after all this, when we were driving by that park why they never took us there as kids. My parents told me that park was notorious for drug use and crime, and that there were no working security cameras anywhere nearby.

There have been so many people in my situation who unfortunately never came home. Please please please be careful who you talk to on the internet, and be even more careful about the excuses you tell yourself to justify why it’s ok for you to be communicating with strangers. I convinced myself that this was just a fun meet up with a friend, that it was safe because it was on a public property, and that it was ok for me to go by myself. I will remember this experience for the rest of my life.

#public safety #online safety #grooming #child exploitation #luring #online predators #be safe #safety #parenting #online smarts

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turkwriter · 4 years

Text

On parental figures, abusive relationships, and the idea of childhood in RWBY

I mentioned in a previous post that I could write a whole essay on how Hazel's actions in wanting to get Emerald out of Salem's clutches makes him a foil for Rhodes and what he did and didn't do for Cinder. Then @caprizcorn mentioned she wanted the essay (and @preeningmywings also seemed to like the comparison) so here it is, behind a cut because it's so long.

I don't think it's a coincidence that we got Cinder's backstory of how Rhodes sorta, kinda, tried a little to help her escape an abusive childhood in the same season as we got an episode where Marrow is saying “they're just kids” about Atlas Academy students fighting on the front lines of a battle, and Hazel trying to get both Oscar and Emerald away from Salem because they're kids. Before I get into the real Rhodes and Hazel compare and contrast, I want to take a little look at RWBY's views on who exactly is a child because you can't understand Hazel's views on both Gretchen and Emerald without considering that.

The idea of a contrast between RWBY characters being soldiers and RWBY characters being children was actually a major theme back in Season 2. When Teams RWBY and JNPR had their food fight, Goodwitch reprimanded them because to her, they're the warriors who are supposed to save the world. Ozpin said they're still kids and should be allowed to be kids for as long as they still can because war will come to them soon. Later, when Team RWBY goes on their first mission in the field with Oobleck, Weiss questions how they can be asked to devote themselves to being Huntresses when they're still kids, Yang responds along the lines of “We're not kids. We're armed to the teeth and being told to risk our lives killing monsters and even people.”

This question- is a 17, 18, 19-year-old still a kid or are they a soldier?- is so central to the current season, but it's a question that even the RWBY writers and fans don't seem like they can agree on. Ruby started out the series as 15-year-old so most of us agree she was a kid. It was even a plot point with Weiss questioning whether someone so young should lead her in battle. Oscar started out 14, and is probably 15 now, and we all seem to agree that he's a child. But the teens and young adults who are the usual Huntsman Academy demographic (17-20 year olds) seem to fall into a more gray area, even by the show's definition. Team FNKI, who are at least Third Years, if not Fourth Years (so 19-20 years old) are considered kids by Marrow. Hazel considered Gretchen a child- we don't know what year at Beacon she was in when she died but she was at least 17, she could have even been 20. But, in the world of Remnant, 17-20-year-olds are regularly thrown into mortal combat with Grimm at the Huntsman Academies. Team CFVY had their life-threatening failed mission when they were Second Years (so 18) and the idea of them being children during it was never brought up. This contrast sort of fits with the real world: an 18-year-old is technically considered an adult, even if most of them still depend on adults for them to live.

So where does the Rhodes-Cinder and Hazel-Emerald contrasting dynamics come in?

Let's start with when Rhodes meets Cinder and finds out that this emaciated “servant” (re: slave) girl is 10 years old. There's no gray area here. She's a child by all definitions of the word. Rhodes sees a girl who hasn't even hit puberty who is being forced to work. He's a Huntsman, he knows what Dust looks like, he can tell that the choker she's forced to wear has lightning Dust on it, that it's basically a shock collar. Rhodes sees all this and decides “I'm going to teach this girl how to fight so that when she's 17 and an adult by Remnant's laws (sorta), she can leave this place and learn to be a Huntress by attending a Huntsman Academy.”

Now I'm not one of the people who think Rhodes was completely irredeemable because he didn't grab Cinder and take her away from Madame's hotel immediately when he met her. Having a 10-year-old with no combat experience tagging along with you as you fight off Grimm and take on bounties is a good way of getting the 10-year-old killed. If Rhodes worked in the Atlas and Mistral areas, he could have become a wanted man for stealing a kid who was known to “belong” to Madame, and then both he and Cinder would be in a worse position. But Rhodes did mess up. He taught Cinder how to fight and she took to it to an extent that she was able to kill a trained Huntsman by the time she was in her mid-teens. There was no reason why Rhodes should have told Cinder to stay with an abusive Madame until she was 17. Teens start attending combat schools when they're 13. Rhodes could have gotten Cinder into a combat school somewhere in Vale or Vacuo, away from the clutches of Madame and Atlas/Mistral authorities. We have examples of young teens without parents (Ren, Nora, Sun, and Fox, off the top of my head) who were able to make some kind of life for themselves that way. It wasn't easy for any of them, but it's a better life than what Cinder faced with Madame, and it wouldn't have ended with Cinder feeling that she had to kill the one relatively healthy parental figure she had (Rhodes), falling under another abusive influence (Salem), and continuing the cycle of abuse herself with someone who saw Cinder as a parental figure (Emerald).

Which brings me to Hazel and his Heel-Face Turn in today's episode. Hazel has made it his life mission to do something to stop Oz's ways of having 17-20-year-olds, who he considers children, fight on the front lines of the war with the Grimm. Now we know Hazel is his own kind of hypocrite- he hated Oz so much that he wanted to kill actual child Oscar. He was willing to hurt RWBY and JNR (and did hurt Nora) because they'd sided with Oz. But in today's episode, when he realizes that Oscar was telling him the truth about Salem, Hazel not only tries to save actual child Oscar (and Hazel does consider Oscar a child now, separate from Oz- his “No more Gretchens, boy” is him telling Oscar to continue being different than Oz), he looks at Emerald, who is at least 19, highly trained in combat, and, to be frank, a war criminal, and says “this is a child too and I'm getting her out of here even though I'm going to be killed by Salem for doing so.” Hazel was willing to literally give up his life for a child he still somewhat hates and a “child” who Remnant would consider an adult. Rhodes wasn't willing to risk much of anything to save a child he was actually fond of and who was, in all ways, still a child.

And it gets me thinking: what if Hazel had been the one to walk into Madame's hotel and see Cinder being treated the way she was, instead of Rhodes? There is absolutely no way Hazel would have told Cinder to wait until she was 17 and an “adult” to leave the hotel, because even then she would be a child to him and children are not to be used as tools by adults. He would have done something to get Cinder away from the situation, he would have been willing to risk something for it, whether that meant killing Madame himself or taking Cinder to safety somewhere far away.

And how Emerald, even when she's terrified of Salem hurting and killing her if she isn't able to escape with JOYR, still shakes her head “no” at Hazel for a moment when she realizes Hazel is going to take on Salem in order to try and give her and the other teens time to get out of Salem's clutches. Hazel has looked out for Emerald more in the short amount of time they've had together than Cinder ever did in the years that Emerald spent as Cinder's disciple. It's not a complete parallel but Emerald's head shake to Hazel reminds me so much of Rhodes putting his hand on Cinder's head when she attacked him mainly because it's such a contrast- Rhodes openly cared for Cinder and showed his affection in a similar way but his affection wound up doing much less for Cinder's well-being than Hazel, who sacrificed it all for JOYR and Emerald, with Emerald's response being so understated but somehow just as important.

#RWBY #RWBY spoilers #Hazel Rainart #RWBY Rhodes #Cinder Fall #Emerald Sustrai #Oscar Pine #RWBY Salem

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

Text

Californian Dream (Pt. 09 of 11)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.9 K

Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.

Warnings: Light violence

<- Previous part (08)

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

Future

For the third time today, you hit Jimmy with the fins as you walk by, pretending you didn't notice. He groans and you bite back a giggle. “If you do that again, I swear I'll fire you.” He sings songs, putting the price tags on the new regulators that got here today.

“You can't fire me. I'm very good at selling stuff.” Putting the fins on its place you turn to look at him.

“The Padawan always becomes stronger than the Master.” Crossing his arms, he squints his eyes. “I taught you everything you know, Lily flower.”

“Yup. And I mastered every single aspect into perfection.” Walking around the store, you make your way back to the counter, letting your hair down, running your fingers through it. “I'm a Jedi by now.”

“You're getting cocky. I think you're spending way too much time with Billy.”

“Well, we're living together and dating so...” You move to stay behind the counter, drumming your fingers on the wooden top. “I'd say that yes, we spend way too much time around each other but I wouldn't change a thing.”

“You're the only couple I know who started living together before even starting to date,” Jimmy says, finishing with the regulators and moving to the new swimsuits, starting to organize them by color and size.

“Yeah, it wasn't the conventional way but it worked, didn't it?” Biting your lip, you try to hold back the smile that always comes whenever you think or talk about Billy. It's been a month since it became official, and things have been going well. Very well. The life you had before is a distant memory you don't even visit it anymore. You're still watching the news here and there, some of your old friends were released and the investigators are getting somewhere. But the truth is that this your life. A real life for a change, where the days aren't pointless, and you do love the friends you have, people with who you don't have to watch your manners or think before saying something. You can laugh out loud and make a mess if you want.

“It did. Look, this is girl stuff, can't you–. These are different sizes but they look the same.”

Rolling your eyes, you walk over him, pushing him away. “They're different, Jimmy. You're clueless.” Looking through the bikinis, you take one off the hook. It's blue and pink, with black symmetrical lines all over it. “I really like this one.”

“It's nice. I bet Billy will like it.” He says in a sassy tone, and you roll your eyes again.

“Alright. Can you put this in the back for me? I'll buy it.” Handing him the piece, you focus on reorganizing everything, paying attention to the clients in case anyone needs help. You're humming a soft song when you feel someone approaching, so you turn on your heels to find a guy walking over the swimsuits. “Hello. Do you need anything?”

His lips break into a bright smile, which you respond with a small polite one. “Yes. I was wondering what tank I should get.”

“It depends. If it's just for recreational purposes, the one with atmospheric air.” You say, finishing with the bikinis and turning to give the guy some attention. “Come, let's check them.” Gesturing, you walk to the other side of the store, almost in the back where the tanks are.

“What's this Nitrox thing?” He asks, stepping closer to the tanks, his hand brushing on your thigh. You move away, but since he didn't seem to notice, you decide not to give it much thought. Probably just an accident.

“That's for long dives. It's a mixture of nitrogen and oxygen.” Shrugging your shoulders, you lay a hand on a nearby tank. “But I assume it'll be just for fun so the atmospheric one will suffice.”

“You know a lot about this stuff.” His smile grows wider, and he gives you a little wink.

It makes you giggle. Is he trying to flirt? “I'm still learning.”

“What about... This one?” Stepping closer, he reaches out for a tank behind your back. You know what he's doing now, so you're quick to step aside before he can pin you against the wall.

Taking a deep breath, you roll your eyes. “Trimix. For depths beyond 130 feet. Which one will you take?”

“I could take two atmospheric tanks if you agree on coming with me for a... Recreational dive?”

“Nah, I don't think so.” He's not planning on buying it, so you make your way back to the counter. “First of all, I don't know how to swim. And second, I have a boyfriend.” Tapping on the counter a few times in a happy rhythm, you focus on the other customers around.

“And why haven't your boyfriend taught you how to swim yet?” He comes to the counter too, leaning on it, making you stand up straighter. “Or... Maybe he can't.” He giggles.

“Oh, he can.” You smirk. “He was a lifeguard during his time in Indiana.” As you speak, you see the man himself, walking closer, an eyebrow raised at the guy talking to you. Biting back a smile at his jealous face, you look at the guy again. “He's amazing, actually. Handsome, strong.” Raising your voice just enough for Billy to hear, you lean on the counter too. “But he's also kind and generous. Honest, trustworthy.”

“Sweetie, nobody is perfect so don't even try to make me believe he is.” The guy chuckles, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, no. He's not perfect. Billy has problems with anger and he absolutely hates when guys try hit on me.” The moment you're done speaking, Billy touches the guy's shoulder, strongly pulling him away from the counter. “Hi, baby.” You say, giving Billy a bright smile.

“Billy, my dude.” The guy says, nervously stepping back, hands raised. “Didn't know the girl was with you, man.”

“Now you do, so back the hell off.” His thunder voice gets people's attention, but you don't even bother.

“Alright, alright.” He mutters, walking backward until he's in the middle of the store, where he finally turns around and leaves.

“Let me know if you want the atmospheric air tank!” You shout, laughing a little.

“Seriously, why the hell–” Billy starts, but his words fade when he looks at you.

Shrugging your shoulders, you giggle at his expression, leaning a little closer to him. “What?”

“Of course guys will hit on you.”

“Uhm... Care to explain it or am I supposed to guess?”

“You look good, that's it. And all this friendly act when you're working here. The kind smiles, politeness... Guys are stupid, they'll think you're interested.” When Billy leans over, you don't move away, a smirk coming to your lips when his face gets dangerously close.

“So... Are you calling yourself stupid?” You whisper, taking his bottom lip in between your teeth. Some people are starting, you're sure. They all know Billy around here, but it doesn't bother you.

“I was stupid. Now that I'm with you, I'm the smartest man on Earth.”

“Doesn't make much sense, Billy.”

“Doesn't have to.” He rolls his eyes, lips finally meeting yours.

“Hey, hey!” Jimmy exclaims from somewhere behind you. “You can take this home, alright? Remember rule number one? Not making out in work hours?”

“My work hours were done seven minutes ago so...” You snap, turning on your heels and waving at Jimmy. “See ya at the bonfire.”

“See ya, Lily flower.”

“Bye.” Muttering, you sigh at the name he calls you.

Walking hand in hand with Billy, you wonder when you'll be able to tell them the truth. It's tiring to hold on to this lie. It's the only thing left to open up about. That, and the fact that you're, well, rich. Sitting shotgun, you look at the people walking on the sidewalk, quietly thinking.

“Hey,” Billy calls. “Everything alright? Did that guy–”

“No, no.” You assure him, shaking your head. “If that idiot tried anything you'd know.”

“Then what's wrong?”

“It just sucks that they still think my name is Lily.” Running a hand through your hair, you sigh. “I'm (Y/N). And I'm afraid they'll be mad when I tell the truth about who I am, who my family is. I don't wanna lose them.”

“Princess, you're hiding your identity for a very good reason. They know about the kidnappings, I'm sure they'll understand when you tell them the truth.” Billy lays a hand on your thigh, and you stretch your arm to massage the back of his neck. “They're not like those pricks, they'll understand.”

“I hope so. I'm sick and tired of that Lily flower shit.”

“Yeah, I bet it sucks being named after my car.” He says, a smirk on his lips.

“What?” You breathe out, smiling. “Are you finally letting me name your car?” You basically jump on your seat, leaning over Billy to place kisses all over his cheek and jaw.

“Keep that up I might even let you name our future kids.”

His words make you stop, freezing, slowly moving back to your seat. Kids? Is he joking or something? Does Billy even want kids? And does he want them with you? This was never brought up before. Billy nervously moves in his seat, clearing his throat. “What?” It comes out almost a whisper.

“No, just... It just...”

“It's alright. I don't...” Billy enters the small parking lot beside the building, stoping on his usual spot. “Anyways, we still have to deal with things when I'm allowed home, so...” You step out of the car, a little flustered, walking side by side with him. “Until that happens we can just...”

“Yeah, we can wait until you break the news to your parents, then–”

“Yeah.” You cut him off, taking his hand. “We still have time since neither the police or the investigators seem to be anywhere close. So let's have fun now and talk about the future later.”

“Let's focus on the bonfire for now.”

“Beach party!” You exclaim, giggling when he pokes your side on a ticklish spot.

An hour later, you're at the beach, in a long skirt and blue top, talking about the most stupid things as the huge bonfire sends flames up to the sky. You're seated on a huge beach towel, eating burned marshmallows. The wind is fresh and the sky is still fading into the black for the night. Leaning against Billy, you giggle every time he places a kiss on your shoulder. There are way more people here than planned, but nobody seems to care. The music is loud, but the voices are louder. Over thirty people are either by the fire or playing on the water, and you've never felt this... Carefree. Or happy. The same people your parents despise so much, are now the best people you know. Just a bunch of kids having fun, not thinking too much, not overthinking their manners, or looking at others with judgmental eyes. This is easy, effortless.

“Billy!” Someone calls, waving their hand over the fire. “A little help with these coolers!”

“It's Austin.” He says, and you move a little to let him get up. “Finally some food and drinks.”

“Yeah, I'm thirsty.” You complain, turning your attention to Stacy as Billy walks away. “So. You and Jimmy. When is it happening?”

“Shhh.” She takes a look around before standing up and pulling you with her. “He doesn't make a move, so I'm starting to give up this idea,” she says when you're away from the others, near the deck of a small snack bar which is almost closing.

“You like him, and he likes you. What's missing?” You ask, not sure what else to do to help. Jimmy often comes to you for advice, and you do your best to push him into asking Stacy out. But after three weeks, it hasn't happened yet. But if it was a double date... “Oh! Gosh! It's so damn obvious!”

“What?” She giggles, pinching her eyebrows together.

“Double date. Saturday. Movie theater.” You say, winking at her. “You two are coming and leave the rest to me.”

Giving a little jump, Stacy pulls you into a hug. “You're the best. I can't believe I haven't come up with this idea myself but I'm so thankful you're my friend.”

“I'll get you two together.” Pulling away, you assure her. “It's a promise.”

“Thanks.”

“You're welcome.” Linking arms with her, you start making your way back to the fire. Your eyes find Billy in a distance, and you're just about to change direction when a girl walks over to him, arms immediately wrapping around his neck, her lips chasing his. You stop in your tracks, freezing, throat suddenly dry. Relief washes over you when Billy pushes her away before she can kiss him, holding both her arms when she tries approaching him again. “The audacity of that bitch.” Stacy mutters, and you nod.

“Why don't you go ahead, I'll... Go there.” Gesturing at the snack bar, you step back.

“Lily...”

“It's alright. I'll just get something to drink.” You know the drinks just got here, but you don't care, you just need some time right now. Turning your back at her, you climb the few wooden steps that lead to the snack bar's small balcony, where some tables give the clients a view of the ocean, holding your skirt so it won't get into your way. When you get to the deck, you walk to the very back, where's dark since half the lights are already off.

You don't know why you're feeling so bad. Billy pushed her away, but still, you're... Angry. Stacy is right, the audacity of that bitch... But if she felt like she could do that, she was one of his many... Flings. And it kills you to imagine them together. Leaning over the wooden railing, you put both hands on your head, the wind messing with your hair.

“Hey, there.” Billy's voice reaches you and, taking a deep breath, you turn around with a half-smile.

“Hey...”

“Stacy told me you saw Amanda grabbing me.” He starts, coming to stand beside you. “You know that–”

“Billy, I saw you pushing her. I'm not mad at you, I'm happy, I just...” Throwing your hands in the air, you sigh, letting them fall. “I just don't like the mental pictures I'm having about the two of you.”

“You're jealous.” He states, and when you look at him, he's trying to hold back a smile. “That's how you cope. You like to be alone. I like punching the guys in the face.”

You didn't want to, but you're chuckling anyways. “Yeah, I kinda noticed that.” Billy comes closer, pinning you against the railing and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“It'll take a while for people to believe I'm actually dating someone this time. But they'll get it, I promise.” He places a soft kiss on your lips. “Even if I have to shove away half the girls of California.”

“You're so cocky, did you know that?” You give him a light push, but you move alongside him, leaving the railing behind. “But it's okay. I just... I hope I won't... End up like one of them. Being pushed away.” With a low voice, you look down, the very thought of it breaking your heart a little.

“When you're falling asleep you have the habit of moving your feet,” Billy says, and the subject is so damn random you raise an eyebrow, staring back at him, shrugging your shoulders. “And you take deep breaths as you relax, and it means you snuggle closer to me every time. And almost every morning you find a way to hook a leg around me so I can stay a little longer.”

“You'll have to help me out here because I don't follow.” Furrowing your eyebrows, you cross your arms.

“I was never that intimate with anyone. And I never wanted to, that's why I never took any girls to my apartment.” Billy softly rubs your arms, and for some reason, your attention falls on the exposed part of his chest. The idiot doesn't seem to know what buttons are for... But you don't care. “But with you, I... I want this. And when the issue with your parents is over we will talk about what will come next and–”

“Oh my God!” Someone from inside the snack bar exclaims, turning the TV volume up. “They got them. The police got them.”

After exchanging a glance with Billy, you both rush inside, eyes on the TV. And yes, the police got them. The journalists show the commotion, an abandoned place, all wrecked, as the criminals are dragged out. And the hostages they still held. Soon enough everyone from the bonfire is here too, silently watching. You're relieved, of course, to know the people you grew up with are being released. But it means you'll have to face your parents, and finally make the changes in your life permanent. With a hand on your heart, you stare at the TV without paying much attention.

“Wanna get out of here?” Billy whispers on your ear, and you nod, following him out of the snack bar.

Guess you'll be talking about the future a lot sooner than you thought.

@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon @clockworkballerina @infinitelycharmed23 @lilred91

#imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #billy stranger things fanfiction #billy stranger things imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #imagine stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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ellana-ravenwood · 5 years

Text

“Can you be my dad’s girlfriend, please ?” - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader (x Batkids)

I was just thinking about the kids’ experience in school, being both part of the Wayne family and everything it brings AND a vigilante...and this story just came to be. I hope you will like it :

Fair warning : this is very long. I hope you will not find it boring. The subject interested me, and I wanted to write a slow burn story for ages. And here we are.

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

******

DICK.

"Are you sure about this, Dick ?"

"Yeah, I am.”

The boy looked sure of himself alright, but Bruce couldn’t help and be a little worried, faced with the building’s decrepitude, and the general state of the neighborhood. Of course, he himself would never care about that, but this didn’t concern him per se.

It wasn’t about his safety, but Dick’s.

Bruce Wayne could wish to change Gotham all he wanted, do everything in his power to make living in this city better, and hope for progress...He wasn’t an idiot.

He knew his work just started, and that most of the city was still very much unsafe. And Dick went through so much already...

Was enrolling him in this school the right choice ?

“You know, Gotham Academy is currently the best rated school in the city ? And it’s closer to the Manor, not by much, but still...It’s also closer from Wayne Tower, just in case.”

Dick frowned, and Bruce could see that he was going to say something before he could truly think about it. His little ward was very impulsive, at times. And sure enough, Bruce was right, as Dick turned to him and started vehemently :

"It's full of phonies and not payed enough frustrated teachers who are mean to kids because they were born rich ! I mean, some of those kids totally deserve it, being phonies and all, but there’s many that are just normal nice kids with rich parents ! I can’t learn with a teacher who hates teaching. And the phonies are getting to me now, mocking me because I was in the circus...And it’s harder to fit in when you go home and are not in the boarding school part ? Most of them are in boarding school, and were jealous I could go home. And I don't care about the "prestige" everyone was always talking about. I don’t go to school to appear better than I am, I go there to learn !”

There’s a short silence, during which Bruce feels a pang of guilt in his heart.

Other kids were mocking him ? The teachers weren’t nice ? Why did Dick wait three months into the school year to tell him he wasn’t feeling well in that environment ? Was he not feeling comfortable enough around him yet ? It has only been six months since he started to live with him, after all..

Bruce tried his best to make him feel at home at the Manor, but it proved, at times, to be more difficult than anything he ever did in his life.

And this was coming from a man who went to train all over the world for years, enduring impossible trials after impossible trials. None of his training though, prepared him to raise a kid. Thanks god Alfred was always there to help him out when he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.

And the more he thought of it, the more Bruce realized that putting Dick in the fanciest school of the City might not have been the best move...

“Do-Do you um, care about the prestige ?"

Dick asks, breaking the silence, looking up at Bruce shyly.

It was clear in the little boy’s eyes, he was very worried about what Bruce was thinking right now. And that the short silence after his passionate diatribe made him nervous. Because...Maybe Bruce would disagree with him ?

Maybe knowing the reason Dick wanted to change from private school to a "normal" public school in would make him angry ? Offend him ?

After all, Gotham Academy was very much like the school Bruce went to as a youngster (said school blew up a few years prior after an “accidental” gaz leak).

Looking at the boy’s almost panicked face, Bruce reassured him quickly :

"Of course not chum. I want you to be happy and feel comfortable in whatever school you choose. If you want to go to this one, then you're going to this one. I was just making sure everything was truly ok with you."

"Well it is ! I have friends here, people that came to-to the circus, you know ? Kids I met during intermissions and all that. Back in the other school, people, and not just the kids, the teachers too, made fun of me because I was in a circus ! Always talking about how I probably was uneducated and all. Bruce, They kept saying I was a clown when I was an acrobat !"

Once again, Bruce felt his heart tightening in guilt and sadness. Three months. The kid waited THREE MONTHS, enduring mockeries and not feeling well, before saying something ! And he only said said something after Bruce kinda forced him to talk about his feelings...

Which had been a very laborious process. Dick was a stubborn child, and Bruce wasn’t really the best person when it came to the concept of “opening up”. Eventually though, he finally got an answer out of the kid.

It wasn’t going well at school, which is why he was being angrier and angrier, and lashed out even more often than when his...The subject of parents was sort of taboo, right now.

Nonetheless, Bruce observed a clear improvement in Dick’s mood and behavior over the Summer. Being with him made the boy more cheerful, and like his entire world still had some sense. Like he wasn’t all alone. When Bruce thought back to his own childhood, and the months after his parents’ death, he truly realized how much Alfred helped him go through everything.

And he wanted to be that person for Dick. It succeeded, as the boy opened up more and more, and was starting to smile again. Be snarky and sassy, too, which Bruce could definitely do without (or not).

When school started however, he went back to a morose like attitude and it didn’t take a genius to understand something must be up..

And here they were, in front of a completely normal school in the Otisburg District, Uptown Gotham. Not the worst neighborhood, most definitely not the best.

Dick said he knew people that went to this school, and that’s why he chose it. And today was his first day. Even though he was a rather extroverted child, Bruce could tell he was nervous.

Made sense, it’s not easy, being the “new kid”.

Laying his hands on the boy’s shoulders, Bruce gave them a light squeeze he hoped felt reassuring, and said :

“Well, buddy. Should we go in ?”

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

This was one of the most stressful day of your life.

No. Second most stressful day. The worst one was most definitely about a week after you graduated college, all cheerful and happy about the prospect to start teaching ! You were riddled with enthusiasm and willingness to change the World, give kids a chance annnnnnnd...realized that day finding a teacher’s position where you wanted was difficult.

Because of sentimental reasons, you did not want to leave Gotham. This city had been your home all your life, and you just couldn’t envision yourself teaching anywhere else.

The city was big, but there wasn’t that many schools, in the end. Or at least, not enough teacher jobs available. None at all, in fact. Well, in the schools you wanted to work at.

There was work in the few private schools all around the city, but you didn’t want to be a teacher in such a place.

You grew up in a bad neighborhood of Gotham (which wasn’t telling much, since most neighborhood in Gotham were “bad” at the time), and you were certain that it was only thanks to the best sixth grade teacher you’ve ever had that you didn’t turn bad.

Out there, in the street of GC, it was so easy for kids from disadvantages families to fall into petty crimes. There wasn’t really a lot of prospect for those kids, with no money to continue their studies and nowhere to really go.

Eventually, a lot of petty crimes turn into organize crimes and...Well, you were sure that one of Gotham’s root problem was their bad public schools.

You swore to yourself that when you’d become an actual teacher and have your own class, you’d advocate a lot to the city council to have a bigger budget, and give a real chance to kids from the lower neighborhoods !

But right now, after three months of not being able to find any steady work in the area you wanted (only short subbing times), and almost accepting a position at Gotham Academy...You finally found a job (well, at least you think you did) and were waiting nervously in front of the principal’s office for him to give you a class !

You didn’t know yet which one you’d get, and it made you extremely nervous ! The entire ordeal was settled really fast, and just enhanced your stress because you had barely any time to prepare. And since you didn’t know which class you’d have, you prepared for any grade you could have in an elementary school (because yes, you were an elementary school teacher. You were sure that trying to lead kids the right way had to start from an early age, as so many of them, in Gotham, just quit school before the age of 15...).

The day before today, you received a call from a panicked principal in the Otisburg district, talking about one of his main teacher quitting after she got mugged for the 7th time that month (it was particularly hard for her because she was originally from Metropolis, so not used to all this violence...), and he was in desperate need to find someone to fill her spot ! The principal’s words particularly resonated within you, since she was saying that those kids, given their circumstances, couldn’t afford to miss a few days of school.

It could have terrible consequences. Which is why she called you (you remember perfectly well that principal, and couldn’t help, when she hung up the phone, to feel utterly giddy because...she was running one of the school you wanted to go the most to !).

But then you realized she didn’t tell you which class the quitting teacher had, or if the spot would be “regular” of if it was yet another subbing time for you...

And here you were, waiting in front of her door, stressing the hell out. And oh my god WHY did you came an hour earlier ?! It just enhanced your stress.

Next to you, there was a trash can full of the espresso you got from the machine in the empty teachers’ room. All this caffeine running through your blood system surely didn’t help you relax.

You were about to take yet another walk around the school to try and release some tension when...

**********

“Can we get ramen for dinner ?”

“I’m not against it chum, but I believe we’ll hurt Alfred’s feelings if we come back for the fourth night in a row with take away.”

“Oh. Right. Then maybe he can make ramen ?”

“I’m sure he’d learn for you.”

“Can you call him so he’ll do it for tonight ? I really want ramen. I miss it..”

“Dick, we ate ramen the past four nights.”

“But it’s so good ! Pleaaaaaase Bruce please please please ask hiiiiiim ?!”

“Alright alright alright. I’ll call him after the meeting ok ?”

“YES !”

Half-standing half-sitting, as you were about to leave for yet another walk, you noticed two persons coming your way, and caught a little part of their conversation.

A man and a boy, probably his son. The little one was jumping up in the air, fist bumping the nothingness, clearly happy about the prospect to eat “ramen”. As they both came closer to you, you realized that...

“Ah, mister Wayne ! I see you’re here too, Miss (Y/L/N), good good. Perfect timing.”

You jump in the air, surprised by the sudden appearance of the principal. Was she a ninja or something, to open her door so stealthily and just appear out of thin air ?!

The thought made you smile, because honestly, in Gotham City ? It was a possibility that the principal of this little school was an assassin of some sort...You stopped your mind from inventing stories about a famous ninja acting as an elderly school principal as a cover, and being one of the most prolific hitman of Gotham at night, and turned to her.

Why was it, that your imagination always ran the wildest at the worst moments ? Right now, you were about to have your first briefing at your first teacher job ever, in the company of the famous Bruce Wayne, and you were thinking about ninjas and whatnot ! WHY ?!

You smile awkwardly at her, and walk into her office, wondering now why a man like Bruce Wayne was here.

According to TV and diverse newspaper, he was a few years older than you, and after everyone thought he died long ago, came back out of nowhere to take his place back in the city’s life just a few months ago.

Why was he here ?

Wasn’t he supposed to be a billionaire who was gonna “turn Gotham around” ? A rush of excitement suddenly filled you. Was he-Was he getting interested in helping schools out ?!

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

That little boy who was with Bruce Wayne, it was “Richard Grayson”. You read his story in the paper, what terrible tragedy...Made worst by the fact it was the only news going around in Gotham for quite a while.

Turned out though, the papers and other media missed one hell of a headline... Their beloved Bruce Wayne adopted the kid ! And no one talked about it ! Your guts were telling you that the reason why this was kept a secret was the man himself. You didn’t know him, but he most definitely seemed like the kind of person who would make sure no further stories about a poor defenseless little boy would surface all around the city.

“So as I was saying, perfect timing ! I thought, mister Wayne, a man of your stature might want to meet your son’s teacher first ? Well here she is ! Miss (Y/N/L) ! She’s starting at our school today too, and will teach the third graders.”

Bruce cleared his throat, and looked at you worriedly. Wow, rude. You didn’t quite know why, but your guts were telling you again this Bruce guy wasn’t very convinced about you right now.

“Um, how old is miss (Y/N/L) ?”

You raise an eyebrow, and answer before the principal can :

“Miss (Y/N/L) is 23, almost 24. Why, is that a problem ?”

“Um, no no. I mean...Maybe. I was under the impression Dick was going to be in the class of someone who had a lot of experience being a teacher ?”

WOW ! RUDE ! You turned an outraged face to him, and he avoids your eyes. The little one though, “Dick”, looks at you apologetically and elbows his gardian in the ribs.

“Can I ask you something mister Wayne ? Do people tell you the same thing when they realize you’re about my age and are raising a child right now ?”

Bruce turns to you, and...Oh you hit the bullseye.

“I think I have every right to ask about your experience, as I’m about to leave my child in your care.” He says coldly, and oh you just want to punch him. You knew he got the analogy, and maybe you were a bit out of line but come on, he was too.

You were about to answer something, and was ready to get fired before you even started school as you knew you were going to put the richest man in Gotham back to his place, when the principal said :

“I can assure you miss (Y/L/N) is the person we need ! When she came to leave her curriculum vitae a few months ago, I just had hired Miss Hick, who quit. Poor woman, she was from Metropolis, you know ?”

Both you and Bruce nod knowingly. The principal continues :

“In any case, I almost regretted that I hired Miss Hick when I saw miss (Y/L/N). Let me tell you mister Wayne, I can assure you that she’s really the person this school needs ! She came out top of her class from school, and clearly has the passion to teach ! She might not have a lot of experience yet, but I think both the kids and her can grow a lot because of this. I’m a very gutsy person you know ? I can have a “feel” of people, know what they’re worth...It’s the part of me that was raised in the Bowery, you know ? Well in any case, from all the things I know about her, and the many letters of recommendations I had from schools where she had internships or subbed, she’s the perfect person for the job. And you, mister Wayne, I feel like you’re a reasonable man...Give her a chance, will you ?”

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

Well, this was interesting.

Sure, your first impression of Bruce Wayne wasn’t very good, but you had to admit that the way he seemed worry about his ward kinda warmed your heart.

It wasn’t very nice, to be questioned about your ability because you were young. But you could understand where he was coming from. And you kinda started to feel guilty about lashing out, and talking about his own legitimacy to raise a child.

Since when was hurting someone because they hurt you the right solution ? You knew better...

“I’m sorry.”

Oh ? Haha. You both talk at the same time, as you close the door to the principal’s office, raising your heads to look at each others.

You were both clearly feeling ashamed, and were looking down at the floor, when you decided to apologize. At the same time. And so you both start to laugh. Under the gaze of little Dick, who is most likely thinking : “What the Hell ? Adults are so weird.”, given his confused expression.

“I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude or anything. It’s very unlike me, I assure you. It’s just, I want Dick to...Be alright.”

He says, smiling shyly at you. And you can’t help but thinks this is probably not a look people are used to see on Bruce Wayne’s face.

“No no no, I’m the one who is sorry. Your concern was totally receivable, and I didn’t really help my case by being an as-um, very immature right afterward.”

“Well, let’s start all over, alright ? I’m Bruce Wayne. And this is my ward, Dick. He’s going to be your student this year.”

“I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I’m um...Going to be your ward’s teacher.”

“Well, a pleasure to meet you miss (Y/N/L). I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each others, in this coming years.”

He tells you with a charming smile. And you try to pack in your brain all the rumors about him being a womanizer, to try and take away how attractive he is. How handsome, sure. But also how his voice is deep and soft to the ear, and how he genuinely seemed to care about his kid in that short meeting...You almost forget his rudeness. Well. He did apologize.

“Pleasure to meet you too, and I’m sure we will.”

Bruce shook your hand, and crouched down to be at Dick’s eye level. He put a hand on his head and said :

“Well chum, see you tonight ?”

“Yup !”

There’s a short silence, and you can see Bruce wants to say more but is searching for his words. Finally, he says :

“Are you going to be ok ?”

The boy smiles widely, and nods enthusiastically. Bruce gives him a worried smile, and after ruffling his hair stands up, and leaves. But not without turning around one last time, as he’s about to disappear at the corner of the corridor, and waving at his boy. Dick waves back, and puts his thumbs up.

Everything was going to be ok !

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

Nothing was going to be ok !

What was Dick doing ? He should’ve said to Bruce he was really scared and worried about starting everything over in this new school ! He was pretty sure that if he had, Bruce would’ve taken him with him to work, and give him time to not be afraid anymore.

Bruce was like that. Always caring about his feelings first. He would probably homeschool him if he wanted...but that’s not what Dick wanted. Although he was thinking about it right now.

He did want to go to a normal school. And see the friends he made while in the circus. And have good teachers (this miss (Y/N/L) sounded great). But it was still scary ?

Dick could act as if he was confident and outgoing all he wanted, he was still an eight (almost nine) year old boy who was about to be thrown into an unknown environment. Not very reassuring. He was thinking...

“I’m nervous too, you know.”

“Huh ?”

“This is the first class i’m going to teach as an actual teacher, and not just a substitue teacher. It’s very nerve wracking. I’m also about to meet a whole lot of new people, that’s always a bit scary, right ?”

“Right.”

The boy answers, feeling his nervousness slowly fading away, as you smile at him reassuringly. It kind of reminds him of how Bruce would talk about his own problems to relate to his, which always helped him understand things more.

It helped him greatly, when he thought about his parents, and Bruce told him about his...

“Let’s make a deal. If I feel like I’m going to freak out, I’ll say “banana”, and you’ll make a diversion so I can escape ok ? And if you feel like you’re about to freak out, ask me if you can have some bananas and I’ll make something up so you can go in the corridor to regain some countenance ok ?”

“...Bananas ?”

“Ok, ok banana maybe isn’t the right word. What about...”

Oh god, the kid was most definitely thinking you were crazy, right ? You were trying to find a way to actually make him feel comfortable, and tell him it was ok if today become too overwhelming and he needed to take a break from all this novelty. Oh geez if you couldn’t make one child feel ok, could you even hold a full classroom ?!

“What about saying we need to go to the bathroom ? Everyone needs to go to the bathroom at one point.”

“Oh, brilliant idea Dick ! So, if we both feel like things are too much, our escape plan will be the bathroom...ok ?”

“Ok !”

The boy answers excitedly, and you feel a sudden wave of relief. Ok. Good. Mission accomplished. He was clearly not feeling as nervous anymore. And you ? Well, this little victory calmed you down quite a bit as well.

Still though, as you pushed the door to your classroom and was met with all your new students, you felt like saying you needed to go to the bathroom right away...

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

When Dick came home that night, he wore the widest smile Bruce saw him wear for a long time. And oh, oh he was so excited to talk about what he did that day.

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

“Miss (Y/L/N), Miss (Y/L/N) !”

Dick calls you across the corridor, as the rest of the children exit the school to go home. It’s the end of today’s lessons, and you’re exhausted. You can’t wait to go home, but you never really mind doing some extra hours to answer a kid’s question.

Especially when said kid is Dick Grayson.

Of course, you’re not playing favorites in your class, oh no no no you would never...But you liked that kid.

Dick walks to you, and waits a few minutes for the corridor to empty out. And then he looks up at you, and as if it was the most evident question in the World, he says :

“Can you be my dad’s girlfriend ?”

For the first time in ages, you can feel your face growing hotter, all the way up to your ears. You spit the coffee you were drinking, and you turn to the little boy who just asked you the cutest question ever, that also made you highly uncomfortable.

“Um uh I um uh...What ?”

You totally blank. You. The person who spend her entire days answering kids’ questions, no matter how weird and kinda useless. And here you were. Completely unable to say anything.

“Can you be my dad’s girlfriend ?”

There another short pause, where you just stare at the boy and he stares back, not flinching one bit. And then there’s a sudden light in his eyes, as if he just understood something, and adds :

“Please ?”

And it kind of melts your heart, how he thinks you weren’t answering because he wasn’t being polite. Trying to choose your words carefully, you say :

“What brought this up ?”

You knew that asking their thought process first, could help you greatly understand a child.

“Well, you’re great and pretty and nice and the best teacher I ever had and he needs to be taken care of. You take great care of us !”

“Dick, your dad isn’t a child anymore..”

You smile at all the compliments the boy gave you. How sweet and innocent. You also smile at him calling Bruce his “dad”.

As the school year unfolded, you saw a shift in Dick’s behavior. A good shift. He opened up more and more, and it was obvious he was slowly finding a new family again, without forgetting the one he lost.

You actually thought Bruce’s approach to tell him he could call him whatever he wanted, and that Dick’s parents would probably just want for him to be happy, and would be happy themselves he wasn’t alone...Was very cute.

You talked about it with him in a parent/teacher meeting. Of course, you had said meeting with all “your” kids’ parents. Not just Bruce. Um.

“I know he isn’t ! Though believe me he acts like one sometimes. But I’m saying that because...I think he’s lonely ? And sad ? Sometimes it feels like he’s just not with us you know ? I don’t know how to explain it, I don’t have the words to...”

Oh but you see exactly what Dick means. You noticed it too. Sometimes, Bruce, when he thought no one was looking, had this melancholic look in his eyes, as if lost in his own dark world indeed.

Not that you saw Bruce THAT often. I mean, just like you saw the other students’ parents really. After all, the school this year really worked on involving the parents more. You and the principal really had the same ideas, and you thought that getting the parents right into the student’s school life was vital for a good development.

“Dick, you know you can’t just become someone’s girlfriend like that ?”

“Sure you can ! I asked Rose McDowell yesterday if she’d be my girlfriend, and she said yes ! It’s simple, you have to ask and then you’re in love.”

You smile at how sweet this child simplified vision of love is, and say :

“Adults are complicated, Dick. We can’t just fall in love by asking someone if they want to be our girlfriend or boyfriend. We have to go on dates, and know each others, and such things ?”

“But miss, you know my dad. If you’re not sure about something, ask me ! I know everything about him, and if I don’t, then Alfred must know !”

Again, you smile at how easy that little boy seems to find solutions to any problems. And oh you wished it was that simple.

“This isn’t how it works, Dick. You have to have feelings for each others, too.”

“Well, I know he likes you !”

You feel your heart jump in your chest, and a rush of excitement...Until you realize. “Simplified answers and solutions”. And thinking he loves little Rose. Dick clearly does not know what “likes” truly mean, and might mix up friendship feelings with love.

After all, it was true you and Bruce got along. Strictly in a...teacher/parent kind of relationship of course. Let’s just say Bruce Wayne agreed with your kind of teaching. Not every parents saw eye to eye with your “fun” methods and such.

So in the eye of a kid, agreeing with each others might seem like this “like” feeling. But really, there was NO way a man like Bruce Wayne would be interested in someone like you.

You saw the models he dated at charity balls and other galas. It never lasted long, and he had much less flings since he officially adopted Dick, but you still saw how they looked and such. Why, when he had such options, would he go for a plain elementary teacher like you ?

“Dick, I don’t think he likes me in the way boyfriends like their girlfriends, do you understand what I mean ?”

“There’s more than one way to like a person !?”

The boy seemed blown away by that, and you can’t help but smile once again his innocence :

“Of course there is. You don’t like Bruce the same way you like Rose, right ? Or your friend Harry ?”

Quick connections seem to be made in his little head, and he nods slowly. But oh horror, his shoulders flop down dejectedly, and he looks sad now. You don’t have time to try and find a way to make him understand everything is alright as he says :

“So you don’t like him ? I mean, like like him ?”

Smart boy. He understood fast that there were indeed a difference between love and friendship. Or at least, he understood the concept of it. You smile and you say :

“No buddy, no I don’t like like him.”

It’s a blatant lie, but sometimes, for a child’s own good, a lie is the best solution.

Because even if by some miracle Bruce Wayne “liked liked” you, he was still one of your student’s parent. When you were in college, one of your teacher hammered in your head that it was highly unethical to date a student’s parent, and this principle just stuck in there.

No. No way. You could never date Bruce Wayne. Because even if he liked you back (back ?) the fact was, he’d forever be one of your student’s parent, even the day Dick would go to the next grade...

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

Dick moves on to the fourth grade, and it’s quite painful to let go of this very first class you’ve ever taught. Those kids that help you grow as a teacher, as you lead them on the path of knowledge.

For an entire year, you all learned from each others, and it’s with a heavy heart you see those children moving on to the next class, as you welcome new kids yourself.

Wow. You didn’t think it would be that hard. But it really is. Even more so because you know, no matter the impact you had on those kids’ life, they’re bound to forget you one day...It was a sad thought, but one you wrongfully thought would be true.

Actual truth was, you shaped a lot of those children’s lives and they’d forever be grateful that you never gave up on them.

And as a new year starts, and your class is full of unfamiliar faces, you have to face the fact that this is what being a teacher is.

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

For the next few years, you don’t really see him. Briefly in the school’s corridor as he goes to a parent/teacher meeting or something of the like. Or in the principal’s office, after he made yet another large donation for the school (since his son enrolled in a “normal” school, Bruce got very involved in the education system in Gotham and donated a lot of money to a lot of schools in rough neighborhoods, unknowingly accomplishing your lifelong dream).

But you don’t see him as much as when Dick was in your class.

Which makes sense...Why would you keep seeing Bruce Wayne ?

You saw him often because you were the kind of teacher to involve the parent a lot. You saw him when Dick decided to make an expose on him, and dragged him in his classroom (it was very funny to see the famed Bruce Wayne awkwardly standing in front of a bunch of kids). You saw him when you had to talk about Dick’s progress or problems. You...Well, you saw him like every other parent. Nothing special was going on.

And now, as you don’t have his kid as a student anymore, of course you see him less.

But sometimes, sometimes when you finish work and walk back to your car, he waves at you from his own car (he always made sure to pick his son up) and smiles, and honestly...It’s enough for you.

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

This sort of non-relationship goes on for a very long time. Where you quickly see each others in hallways, waving at each others in the parking lot, and catching up with quick conversations that are always the same :

“Hello Mister Wayne.”

“Hello Miss (Y/L/N).”

“How are you today ?”

“Fantastic, and you ?”

“Great. Well, I have to go to my class.”

“Yes, I have to go to. It was nice seeing you.”

“You too.”

Hundreds and hundreds of short conversations, that started to mean a lot to you, even more so since Dick was almost going to graduate primary school and..Oh god.

You had a crush on Bruce Wayne.

Then again, in Gotham city, with how much he appeared on TV and such, a lot of people had a crush on Bruce Wayne.

But you…well, he was handsome, nice, funny, but most of all, he cared so much about this little boy he adopted, that…how could you resist really ? You rationalized everything by thinking that you liked him so much only because of how much he cared for Dick (who wasn’t even your student anymore !).

Of course. People caring about "your" kids, about their education and all, always kinda made you melt. Even more so when they were single parent !

Yes. Yes you didn't really liked Bruce Wayne. You didn't really have a crush on him. You just…Admired how well he took care of that kid that suddenly appeared in his life. Hell, he seemed to take care of him better than the parents who had their own children since birth…It was something.

Of course, you were sure their "butler", Alfred Pennyworth, that you met a few times, was for something in all this. Still. It was very sweet. And impressive. And all those feelings gave you the impression you had a crush on him...but you really don’t, right ?

No. No you don’t. Oh, but here he comes, you know he has a meeting with Dick’s 6th grade teacher and...

“Hello, Miss (Y/N/L).”

“Hello, Mister Wayne.”

The same conversation.

Over and over again.

And it always ends on large smiles being exchanged, and a short pause, as if neither of you truly want to leave...

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

Dick graduated sixth grade and you stopped seeing Bruce Wayne.

It made you oddly sad, but then again...That’s how life went, right ? It was time to move on from your silly crush that lasted those past three years.

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

JASON.

Another year passes, and you’re slowly getting over Bruce Wayne. Your heart doesn’t beat as fast when you see him on TV, and you started to date men there and there, when you felt like you wanted to be with someone.

After his graduation, you didn’t see Dick again, which confirmed your theory that no matter the impact you had on a child, when they moved on...They moved on.

The truth was, Dick never forgot you, and wish he would have had the time to go back to his old school. But middle school was harder and more demanding than elementary school, and with his nightly activities...

But he never forgot the first teacher he had that made him feel like he could do anything. And that was always understanding, and adapted her way of teaching for every single kids in the class.

But that, you did not know. And you thought you had moved on, too. Until you saw him again. At the exact same place you met. In front of the principal office.

“Mister Wayne ?!”

“Miss (Y/L/N) !”

He says with a warm smile, his hands on the shoulders of a little boy that couldn’t be older than ten or eleven. And you understand that he adopted again, and realize that yup, you still have a crush on Bruce Wayne.

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

After Dick's debacle at Gotham Academy, how much he hated it and such…Bruce figured that with Jason, he'd just let him choose.

So he went and took brochures from each school, and brought them back to the Manor for Jason to take a look at. Alfred had a little tear at the corner of his eye, when he witnessed his master going all around Gotham just to pick up infos on every single school so his kid could choose…

It was particularly refreshing that since Young Master Dick left, Bruce felt lonely.

Even more so given the conditions they parted at the time…ah but that was another story, and the butler had no doubt in his mind that Dick would come around, forgive his father and vice versa. After all, young Master Dick was a teenager now (not since very long), he had to rebel at some point, and it did some good to Bruce to have someone disagreeing with his methods and making him reconsider things…But again, that was another story.

For now, everything was about Bruce going well out of his way to make sure Jason would be comfortable.

"You can go wherever you want."

"Really ?"

"Yes, you're the boss. Choose where you want to go."

Jason's face brightened, and Bruce couldn't help but smile at him.

That little boy clearly had so few choices in his life…Oh god, Bruce hoped that suddenly having so many choices wouldn't overwhelm him !

But the boy was carefully studying brochures one by one, putting them away in three different piles. Bruce wondered for a second why, when the kid looked at him and understood his silent question :

"This pile is for the "big no no never", this one is for the "maybe", and this one is for "good ones""

Ah. Made sense. Organized little feller.

This went on for a few minutes until he picked up one brochure and exclaimed :

"Hey that's my old school !"

Bruce turned to look at what school Jason was pointing to. Oh.

Oh.

Wow.

It was Dick's old school, too.

The one in a not so nice neighborhood that he wanted to go to because friends he made while at the circus went there. And it used to be Jason's ? Well. It made sense. Also, fate had funny ways sometimes.

“And do you want to go back there ?”

“Well I only went one year there, but I think I still know people who are still there...It might be nice, to already know a few people ?”

“So this one ?”

“I think so, yes. This one. I have a good feeling about it !”

Bruce smiled, and...Did that mean he would see you again ?

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

“This is my son, Jason.”

He says proudly, hands holding reassuringly the boy’s shoulders.

Oh yes, yes you vaguely remember reading an article about how Bruce Wayne adopted a new kid, after his older son went away in boarding school (which always made you feel odd, Dick didn’t sound like the boarding school type of kid ? Ah, but he must’ve been about 14 or 15 now, right ? Maybe his teen years weren’t going as smoothly as his childhood...).

Wondering if you should ask how Dick is, or if it was maybe too personal given the circumstances, you turn to look at Jason and...

"Hey I remember you. You used to come to this school right ? In a few class below the one I teach currently, and then one day you disappeared !"

"You-You remember me ?"

"I always notice children that seem a little-"

"Odd ?"

"No, not odd. Sad. It was obvious something didn't go well in your household. I’ve been teaching long enough to...notice you guys. When you disappeared I asked you teacher and she told me you turned bad. There was no infos on where you lived so I couldn't go and see…I'm very glad you, in fact, turned the opposite of bad !"

"You…would've try to find me ?"

"Of course ! "Turning bad" is something too easily accepted in Gotham ! If you don't give up on a child, who might not have an ideal family environment, then they have a better chance ! Of course it doesn't always work, I did have a lot of failure…but a few hold on, and those few matters !"

Jason’s mind was blown away. He stopped going to school when his mom overdosed...He was 8, and suddenly had to fend off for himself, as no one cared to know what happened to the “son of that junkie on the third floor”.

He survived as he could, by committing petty crimes and dangerous stunts. Until Bruce found him (or rather, until Jason stole the Batmobile’s tires and got caught).

And here he was, having a home again for the first time in ever, and faced with a woman that genuinely was concerned about him, but didn’t have the means to help.

And what would’ve happened if she had ? Well, Jason was glad she didn’t. She seemed nice, but he wouldn’t trade his new dad for the world.

Bruce was his hero. And he loved him dearly. Why would he want any other parent now ? He had one that, in his eyes, was perfect for him.

“So, you know him ?”

Bruce was looking at you with eyes full of interests. The little speech you made about going out of your way to make sure every kids you encountered was ok...moved him. It stirred something in his heart. Something good.

Something that felt nice.

“Well, not per se. But I saw him around, like I said. It’s very nice to properly meet you, Jason.”

“Likewise, Miss...”

“(Y/N/L).”

You answer with a smile, and Jason finds himself wishing you’ll be his teacher, for this first year back to school in a while.

“It’s unfortunate that Jason here, is entering fifth grade. He will not have you as a teacher...”

“Fifth grade ? Well what a coincidence. I’ve been teaching that class for the past two years, to break the routine, you know ? There’s a lot to learn in fifth grade, it’s a pivotal year for kids, so I’m glad I was transferred to that class ! And I’m double glad because that mean we’ll see a lot of each others, Jason.”

And you smile at him, making him blush because he’s still not used to people being nice to him like that...

Bruce smiles too, but not for the same reasons. So you’re teaching fifth grade now huh ? Well. That means you’ll see a whole lot of HIM too...

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

Young Jason Todd.

Brilliant child.

Promising. You were sure he would have a very VERY bright future ! It wouldn’t surprise you if he was the one to take on Wayne Enterprise, he was THAT smart. Yes. Bright future in coming for sure (um...).

More studious than Dick was. More attentive, too. Dick could sometimes be the class clown, and get distracted. But Jason ? Jason was listening carefully, drinking your every words, and oh it was so nice to have a student like him in your class ?

Even more so when you knew that he could’ve turned very bad if Bruce didn’t adopt him...Ah damn. This just enhanced exponentially your crush on Bruce.

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

It’s like it’s a redo of when Dick was your student.

Once again, you see a lot of Bruce Wayne (and are comforted that this will go on for at least one year afterward, until Jason graduated). But since his son is your student again, he’s often at the school.

Working with the principal to help financially, and participating greatly in Jason’s school life.

And the crush continued, although you were pretty sure he just saw you as his kid’s teacher...Then again, why would he see you any differently ?

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

“YEAAAAH GO GIANNNNNNTS !!”

Jason screams at the top of his lungs, standing up on his chair in the massive Knightsdome Sporting Complex, watching with attention the baseball match unfolding in front of his eyes.

For his birthday, the boy asked to go to a game with his dad, and here he was, with Bruce...at a game. Not any game. The game of the year !

And he was so excited and hyped, that Bruce didn’t regret one bit taking the day off from Wayne Enterprise to be able to come with him here.

And that’s when he sees you.

You’re a few row down, on the left, and you’re...Talking with a guy.

Who was that guy ?

The dude kisses your cheek and Bruce’s heart tighten. Probably your boyfriend.

Something escaped him though...Why was seeing his kid’s teacher with her boyfriend made him feel so melancholic ? Why did it hurt his heart ?

And then the answer came as easily as Jason screaming in happiness as his favorite team just scored a point...He had a crush on you.

He was pretty sure he had a crush on you ever since he met you, when it was Dick’s first day. And all this year he was your student, and the moments you shared with him...The moments you shared ? What was he saying ?! You didn’t share any moments. You were just his son’s teacher !

It was normal to have meetings and such. And then, it was just courtoisie to say hello after that, when Dick was still in the school. Right ? No matter if he wasn’t as close to any other of Dick’s teachers...If he wasn’t as involved. They weren’t like you and...

This was stupid. You were his kid’s teacher. He couldn’t have a crush on you.

Ah but now you smile, and throw an arm around that guy’s shoulder, looking happy and. It dampens Bruce’s mood greatly. Why ? Why does he feel so blue ? This is suppose to be a great moment with his son, why are his eyes fixed on you and...

“DAD DAD !! DID YOU SEE THAT DAD !!!???? THIS WAS AWESOME !!”

Dad. This is the first time Jason calls him dad. And Bruce focuses back on the boy, lying about having seen “that”, and looking at his son enthusiastically jumping up and down his chair in excitement. Cute boy.

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

“Thanks for those killer seats, sis’.”

“No problem, I’m enjoying it too haha. Happy birthday, dumbass !”

You say, putting your arm around your younger brother’s shoulders, while enjoying seeing the Giants kicking Metropolis’ team’s ass.

Aaaah, you loved baseball.

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

“AH YES GOOO GIANNNNTS.”

Jason was still screaming, holding a stray ball Bruce caught for him above his head in a sign of victory. They were walking up the path to Wayne Manor’s entrance now, but Jason’s excitement still hadn’t gone down.

He was still jumping all around, talking about how cool everything was, and how much he loved the stray ball Bruce caught, and how he hoped he’ll get it signed one day, and how much he loved his new Giants t-shirt, and his new giants cap, and his new Giants baseball pants, and his new Giants shoes, and how he wished he could wear all of it to school and...

“Hey, why don’t you ask miss (Y/N/L) to be your girlfriend ?”

The sudden question takes him by surprise and he stops mid-way up the stairs to the entrance, and stare at his son.

“What ?”

Jason talked so much and so fast, the past hour, that Bruce didn’t catch everything he talked about, and most certainly missed how they arrived on this subject ?

“Why don’t you ask miss (Y/N/L) to be your girlfriend ?”

“That’s...I..You...She...We...I...”

It’s the first time Jason sees his father stutter, and he realizes he must’ve stroke a cord with that question. He smiles slyly and adds :

“Oh you thought about it huh ?”

He got up a few stairs ahead of his dad so he could be at his level, and nudged him with his shoulder knowingly, being absolutely obnoxious.

“What are you talking about ? She’s your teacher, we can’t !”

There’s a short silence, during which Jason loses his smirk that is replaced by a confused expression and, as simple as that, he asks :

“Why ? You like her, no ?”

Yes. Yes he did...But it was more complicated than that. And she apparently had a boyfriend ! Bruce didn’t feel like ruining the day trying to explain his conflicted feelings to his son, and so he said :

“Because she’s your teacher, and that’s that.”

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

Three years after Jason isn’t your student anymore, you hear about his death. In the worst way possible. Through the TV, as you’re preparing dinner.

And it shatters you. You’ve always liked Jason a lot, he was so bright, he was supposed to have a successful future !!

He died during the Joker’s terrorist attack, apparently, along with a few other people. And it was the most tragic day of your life...

You don’t see Bruce for years, after that.

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

After Jason’s death, you vowed your entire life to teaching, even more than before. It became vitale to you, that future generations would make this city better, would give it some sort of sense.

Because in which world was it normal for a 15 years old boy to die because yet another psycho was roaming the streets ?

Jason fuels even more your wish to make this city a more bearable place to live in, and you work more than ever towards this goal, creating the “Jason Todd school foundation”, a name barely in homage to the student who inspired this entire action. In homage of a student who particularly touched your heart, and represented in himself why there was a desperate need to improve the education in Gotham City.

Your non-profit charity works harder than any other, to improve schools in Gotham, and give a better chance to this kids.

One of your biggest donator is a certain Bruce Wayne, but you still don’t see him anymore.

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

TIM.

It’s only when he sees you talking to one of your students, right there, at the end of the hallway, that he realizes how much he missed you.

Two years passed since...Since his life completely changed. Since everything was painted in black again. And yet, yet it feels like it was yesterday he saw your smile.

He heard your voice.

He saw you care for “your” children.

It’s like a small ray of sunshine in his heart, as he finally sees you again. After Jason...After what happened, he felt like he couldn’t face you. Like he couldn’t face one of the only person in the world that cared greatly about that boy.

And so he avoided you. But Destiny brought him back in your path, and as you notice him, and a natural smile spreads across your face...He realizes how much he missed you.

In his hand, he squeezes Tim’s hand a little tighter, and the boy looks up at his dad curiously. What got into him ?

The other small ray of sunshine in his dark and dry heart, his new son, is about to asks him what’s up, when he sees how his dad is looking at that woman, at the end of the hallway.

Timothy Drake-Wayne has always been the smartest little boy around, and he immediately understands what is going on...

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

"So you can choose chum. Either school. This is Gotham Academy, the "best" one but it really has that reputation because…money. And then that's the one Dick and…Dick went to. He liked it very much, the facilities are not as nice, but the teachers are passionate."

Bruce doesn’t mention Jason, even though Tim is pretty sure Jason too, went to that school. But he knows it’s a delicate subject, so he does not mention it.

"Where did he go ? Why wasn't he in Gotham Academy ?"

"He couldn't get along with people."

"…Dick ? Our Dick ? Not getting along with people ?"

Tim was properly shocked.

"He can get mad very fast, you know ? Remember when you beat him at Smash Bros ?

"Oh yeah…He broke the controller. I just thought it was an occasional thing ! He really likes smash bros"

"It's not that occasional. He can get very angry very fast. And the kids in Gotham Academy weren't very nice to him, so he got angry often. It was also not long after his parents…”

"Oh. I get it…Well, I want to go where Dick went !"

Bruce’s heart tighten at the mere idea to see you again.

Was he ready to face you, after ignoring you for two years ? After Jason stopped being your student, the boy still went to see you, as you really changed his life. He wanted to be a teacher, too, so he often came and observe...Which meant you saw a lot of Bruce too.

And Bruce felt like he owed you an explanation. About how Jason...But he couldn’t. He couldn’t face you. He just couldn’t.

Something in him made him sure that if he would talk to you, he’d break down. He’d tell you everything. Everything.

And he just couldn’t do that.

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

Tim hated school. For the past two years, he got away from not going by falsifying a paper where he forged his parents’ signature saying he was now homeschooled. The truth was, his parents never really paid attention to what he was doing, and since he hated school...

He might as well not go, and do other things of his days. Like discovering who the Batman was !

And he did, he did found out ! Shortly after that, and after stubbornly going to Wayne Manor days after days so Bruce would train him, he lost his parents ...And got adopted by the Batman himself.

It was strange, because Bruce paid a lot of attention to what he was doing. Actually, he was borderline overprotective sometimes...Of course, Tim knew it was because of the Robin-he-wasn’t-allowed-to-talk-about.

Jason Todd. The brother that he’ll never know. Only Dick, talked to him about that (after Jason’s death, Dick came back to the Manor to support Bruce, and enrolled in a high school downtown, where he was a senior). Bruce never mentioned him, but Tim saw him spend hours standing in front of Jason’s old suit, and staring at it...

But that was another story. That nonetheless explained why Bruce was being particularly protective of him (like, he still held his hand when they were walking in the streets and stuffs like that, even though Tim was 9 now !).

In any way, Tim still hated school, and it’s full of “don’t wanna” and dreading the boring hours he’d spend in class learning things he already knew, that he dragged his feet across the corridor to go to his first class.

Dick told him about the teacher, apparently he had him in third grade. Great. A third grade teacher teaching fifth grader. Wow. He would learn sooooo much.

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

This was the first time in his life Tim actually liked school. Sure, you were teaching a lot of things he already knew but the methods you were using, with games and fun things so they’d remember better, was amazing !

It didn’t feel like school, yet as the end of the day drew near, Tim realized he actually learned a lot of things ! WOW ! And for the first time in his life, Tim couldn’t wait for the next day.

You too, couldn’t wait for the next day, as it was going to be the first teacher/student conference, and you’d see your forbidden crush, Bruce Wayne.

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

“So, are you going to take miss (Y/L/N) on a date ?”

“What ?”

Bruce and Tim were in one of the car, driving back home, when Tim just jumped right into it.

“Pleaaase, all this chit chat you guys had was unbearable. You talked so much about nothing.”

“We were talking about your latest test, chum.”

“Right. For the first two seconds. Then you made up excuses to keep talking.”

“Well, you sure have a great imagination. Miss (Y/L/N) said so herself.”

“Oh really dad, we’re really going to go that way ? You’re going to deny it ?”

“Tim, we were just talking about you. That’s it. Just like any parents and teachers.”

“...Riiiiiight.”

Obviously, the boy wasn’t convinced. However, he dropped the subject, too surprised by the fact his father’s face was slowly turning bright red.

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

Cassandra.

“This is my new sister Cass !”

Tim says enthusiastically, smiling widely at you.

“She’s older than me, but she um...isn’t from this country, so never went really to school so that’s why she’s in your class and I’m in sixth grade ! She’s very nice ! She’s coming here because I’m here too ! She wanted to be where I was ! She’s my sister !”

“Cass” looks at you curiously, a bit of shyness in her eyes too, and when you raise a hand to shake hers, she flinches back.

It doesn’t take you long to recognize all the signs of a child that was beaten by her parents, and a rush of anger climbs inside you.

Tim, after he introduced his sister, rushes to his own class, and you’re left with Cass as the rest of your students come in.

She goes from one foot to the other, unsure of what she’s supposed to do in this first day of school, and it’s obvious...it really is, her first day of school.

And already, you think of a plan to make her feel welcome. To make her feel like it’s ok if she doesn’t get everything right away, or if she isn’t at the same level than others.

You quickly realizes she does not speak much, most likely because she wasn’t really taught to. It breaks your heart, and you do everything in your power to adapt your class for her. To give her that extra support.

And in that case, isn’t about having a favorite or not, it’s about being there for kids who need it. It’s your entire life’s work up until now.

Cass incarnates exactly why you became a teacher.

**********

“You. Like her.”

Cass says simply, touching her father’s chest, and then pointing at you, who’s currently helping a few kids finishing last minutes decoration for the school play.

Bruce turns to you, looking longingly at you as you smile to the kids, and help Tim put his hat on properly (he was playing President Lincoln..). Of course, just as he was looking at you, you had to take care of his kids.

His feelings for you were always stronger, when he saw you with one of his children. You’ve always been such a great teacher, caring so much for them.

Of course, you cared about all your students. More often than not, you went out of your way to make sure a kid had enough food, or was treated properly. Went out of your way to go after children who stopped coming to class, dragging them back in.

How could he not like you ?

He turns to Cass now. His only daughter. His sweet, sweet daughter. How could he lie to her ? It is impossible.

And so, for the first time since, years ago at a certain baseball game, he realized he had a crush on you (that might’ve turned into something more now), he says aloud :

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Cass smiles sadly, because she understands he’ll never act upon his feelings for multiple reasons. And she understands her precious “Miss (Y/N/L)” won’t either...

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

It’s interesting, how your relationship evolved, in almost ten years. From when Dick first became your student, to when Cass left your class for the last time.

Nowadays, you actually became friends, mainly because Bruce became one of the board member of your Charity.

You had to admit this was going beyond a simple teacher/parent relationship (as if it hadn’t been that way for years). But...but you’d never cross a certain line

Neither of you would admit your feelings. You’d simply stare at each others from a far, and look away when the other turned their head toward you.

You started to call each others by your first names, but it just made sense.

You were friends now. Nothing more. Even if Cass wasn’t your student anymore, neither were any of his other kids...Things could still not go further.

That’s simply how things were.

He did not want to drag you in his life, and felt like it was inappropriate to date his kids’ teacher (even if technically you weren’t anymore, you were still “Miss (Y/N/L)” to all of them). And the media would crush you...

As for you, in your head, those kids, even if the oldest one was going on his twenties, were still your students. And you had a strong ethic..

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

DAMIAN.

“I don’t see why I have to go to this...public school, father”

At the word “public”, Damian shivered slightly and Bruce couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Oh, how he wished his boy wouldn’t have inherited his dramatic side...

"Your brothers and sister loved this school."

"Don't call them that please, they're not my-"

"You're my son. They're my children too. You're their brother. End of story."

There’s a short silence, where Damian scoffs. He breaks his stubborn silence, realizing his father wasn’t going to budge, and adds :

“Yes well like I said, they weren’t use to a high standard of living. Mother hired the best private tutors and such. If they’re satisfied with mediocrity then good for them.”

“Well, here’s another reason to go to this school. Detach yourself from this type of life, isn’t that what you want to do ? Plus I think it would do you nicely to be a little more humble.”

“Humble ? My life is anything but humble !”

“Except for the fact that now, you’re going to a normal public school in a not so nice neighborhood in Gotham”

At those words, Damian’s eyes widen. Did his father just...make a joke ? Oh the smirk on his face was undeniable, he just mocked him !

“Hey, I-”

“Bruce ! Ah, and you must be Damian ?”

You say, as you see the both of them. Damian scoffs, and you take the conclusion that yes, it must be him.

Bruce talked to you on the phone about his youngest son, who recently came into his life after...A lot of complications. He didn’t really tell you what happened, but you understood he dated a woman long ago and she had a son, and hid him from him. Which outraged you. But also was none of your business...

In any case, he talked to you about Damian. He had been raised in very high society, and warned you a little about him. But oh, you did not believe a child needed warnings. No matter what, you’d find a way to properly teach that boy. A method that would suit him. Like you did for all of your students (and man did you already had some tough cookies in your classes).

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

Damian looked at his father, and then at you, and how you smiled at each others stupidly. And frowned. You left to ask something to the principal, and Damian turned to his father, saying :

“Mm. Are you sure you put me in this school to teach me how to be humble, or did you just want to see that teacher again ?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, boy.”

But Damian was not stupid, he could clearly see how his father’s eyes were lingering behind you, and how you smiled at him.

It made him sick.

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

You held Damian back at the end of a class, to talk about his latest test.

He had made no mistake, and punctuated the entire thing with personal comments such as : “a baby would know this” and other “I could answer this one in Japanese” (and proceeding to write his entire answer in kanjis) etc etc...Which made you think that obviously, that kid did not want to be here.

And most definitely could jump further into his studies, if he thought this class was much too easy. You had the occasion to see his tests and his attention in class, and it was clear the “high society” from which he came from educated him very very well.

With an unimpressed look, Damian picked his stuffs up and went to your desk. You showed him his test, and said :

“It has come to my attentions, thanks to your very...Smooth comments, that this class is probably not up to your level. I was thinking maybe we could see to have you skip a grade or two. Would that be something you want ?”

He shrugs, still not looking very concern, and you sigh. In three months in your class, Damian hadn’t opened up at all. He was most definitely one tough cookie to crack...You sigh, and say :

“I’ll talk to your father about it.”

“Useless, he won’t accept.”

“Really ? Why ?”

“He thinks I need to learn how to be humble.”

“Ah. And what do you think ?”

“Why would I hide how good I am at things ?”

“Ah but Damian, being humble isn’t about hiding that you’re good, but accepting and knowing there’s always room for improvement.”

You say with a smile, and it...does something to him.

It’s not that your words have a particular impact on him, he heard Alfred or his “siblings” telling this kind of things hundred of times.

But there’s something in your face that makes him flinch. Moves something inside him. It’s like...It’s like you genuinely care.

Damian never really saw anyone looking at him with this expression. Clearly wanting to breach the gap, to make a jump and truly want the best for him.

Of course, his father really tried to bond with him, but they still didn’t get each others at all. And with his siblings ? Tt, he had no siblings. With the others, he always tried to be better (without always succeeding), and it frustrated them. With reasons.

So he never saw that particular smile, that particular expression. A genuine and hopeful smile. Someone not judging him in the least, and ready to give him a chance, even after he spend the last three months being horrible to them...

Damian couldn’t understand why you were looking at him like that. Why you had so much hope for him, why you didn’t give up already, why...Why ?

Why were you smiling at him, while he made all the effort in the world to make you understand he did not want to be here ?

Why ?

He couldn’t understand. He hated not understanding.

And it made him...sick ?

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

Why did it make him sick again ? After a few more months of school, he couldn’t remember the reason.

Classes were...Pleasant to him, when you were teaching them. He found himself wanting to listen. Wanting to participate. Wanting to talk.

You had a way of approaching subjects that made everything fun, that made everyone wanting to learn more.

Why did he dislike you so much at first ? Probably because he wasn’t used to someone genuinely caring about his well-being ? He had been surrounded by fakes and people trying to kill him since his birth, it was difficult to believe there were some good people on Earth.

Bruce, just like how he noticed Cass’ speech improve after a few months in your class, noticed his son opening up more and more.

He was still quite introverted, and sometimes acted like a brat...but he was also just a ten years old boy. He couldn’t be perfect.

There was no doubt in Bruce’s mind that the way Damian slowly changed his mind and changed for the better, came in big part thanks to your class. It also, of course, came from the fact he had amazing children who weren’t about to let Damian get away with treating them as if they weren’t part of the family.

Instead of getting mad at him though, they just involved him more in their lives, wether he wanted to or not (something they most definitely picked up from your class, where you always made sure everyone was included, and had a “non judgement zone” installed). And slowly but surely, he got used to it.

He got used to say they were his brothers and sister. That they were a family. He got used to bicker over siblings stuffs, but not to hate them anymore just because they existed.

He was raised to be like that. Individualist, and taught to crush anyone he deemed a threat. For him, the children his father adopted were a great threat, they could steal his legacy...But slowly, he realized all he had been taught was rotten.

It took time, of course. And patience.

But the fact no one was willing to give up on him made him feel things. For the first time in his life, he felt what that “love” thing was, and what being actually cared for felt like.

A mix of a healthy family environment (and an escape to kick ass at night, and release some frustration), and a good school environment, and slowly but surely, Damian really did improve.

Of course, the change came from him. He was the one wanting to change, wanting to be part of something...But he most definitely had great help along the way.

Everything culminated the day he had to do an expose for his class, and chose Tim as his subject.

Of course, Tim knew nothing about it. Damian had come to see him as his brother, and would often boast to his friends at school how great his siblings were...but he’d never tell them to their face.

Only you knew, how greatly he admired his big brother Tim. He talked a lot about how Tim was only 16 and already managing a lot of things at their father’s enterprise, and he couldn’t help but digress to brag about his other siblings too, who were all very successful.

And no one in his family would ever have known, if it wasn’t for you who called Bruce to tell him about this absolutely beautiful expose Damian did about his siblings...It made you almost tear up. Even more so when he talked about “the brother he never met”, Jason (who was alive at the time, and back in the family, but the public still thought he was dead...however Damian couldn’t help but talk and brag about him too, even if he had to use the past tense. He would realize only later, how insensitive it could be to have done that in front of you, who still hadn’t gotten over his death...).

You told everything to Bruce, and it almost sounded like you talked about your own son. It did all kind of things to Bruce’s heart. Nothing he said alout, though.

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

Damian was going to graduate from elementary school when it happened.

It was the first full blown charity ball you held for your “Jason Todd school foundation”, and...You had no illusion.

If people came to your little event it was because Bruce Wayne was here too.

It had been, nonetheless, a rather pleasant evening. You caught up with Dick, Tim and Cass (and was painfully reminded of Jason’s absence), and what they were doing currently. Tim and Cass were still in high school, and Dick had recently decided to join the police school. Didn’t surprise you much.

Yes. It was a rather pleasant evening.

Except for the fact your heart kept getting stabbed over and over again every time you saw Bruce with his date, a Russian model that was probably one of the most beautiful woman you ever saw.

How could you compete against that ? ...Not that you’d want to compete.

You do your best to avoid them all night long, even though you see him look for you, trying over and over again to come and talk to you.

You just can’t do it. You can’t look at him in the eyes while he has such a gorgeous woman at his arm. And so, not very discreetly, you avoid him like the plague, always finding a way to put people between you and him, or escaping to the ladies’ bathrooms.

Until she corners you.

You were fairly certain she noticed Bruce wanting to talk to you, and had gotten jealous that he therefor paid less attention to her. Oh but if only she knew you and Bruce were just friends...

She’s able to finally talk to you as he went to get some drinks, and before even saying hello or anything, she asks, with a clearly exaggeratted Russian accent (you heard her talk with a barely noticeable accent before) :

“You’re the one who throw all this right ? Good party. Are you alone tonight though ? I thought it was custom for people who organized this kind of things to be accompanied.”

She says, with an infuriating fake smile. And that’s the moment Bruce choses to come back, so you can’t even be snarky or anything. You don’t want Bruce to think anything bad about you, so you say :

“Well, I’m here for the children. So no, I didn’t bring a date. I was too busy trying to appeal to people to invest in our new educative programs.”

The Russian model looks you up and down and say, the condescendence clear in her voice :

“Oh, is that why you’re alone ?”

And here we go, yet another knife in the heart. Reminding you that beyond those impossible feelings you have for Bruce, you also take every hours of your day and use it towards your “educative cause”, virtually having no real social life. And wow. Outch. “Alone”. Touché.

You don’t see Bruce frowning at his “date”, and you awkwardly smile before slipping away, finding an excuse to do so.

“(Y/N) wait I wanted to...”

You hear him say something, but you already jumped in the middle of a bunch of people and joined their conversation, effectively blocking Bruce’s way to you.

You really, really didn’t want to talk to him, even more so if that woman was at his arm.

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

The night comes to an end, and you’re utterly satisfied of it.

You managed (thanks to Bruce mainly), to find founding for all your projects, and had a nice nights full of passionate talk about education and such.

You had the opportunity to hang out with ex-students of yours, that made great things of themselves. Not just Dick, Tim, Cass and Damian. It was kind of a given, they’d do great, mainly because of their father’s fortune (although those kids were geniuses). But kids from the worst neighborhood in Gotham that benefited from all your actions.

You felt very proud, and shed many tears. More than once, you thought about Jason, and how you dedicated all this success to him. How you wished this would lead Gotham on a more peaceful path, and things like what happened to Jason would never happen again.

The wound of his loss was still fresh, and as the evening was coming to an end, and people leaving, you took a little break and went out on the balcony to take a breath of fresh air.

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

It was only ten minutes into your isolating time that he finally found you.

And you were beautiful, there, your elbows on the bannister, looking out at the night lights of Gotham City.

“Great night, huh ?”

You jump a bit in the air, surprised, and turn to him.

No Russian model around, coast clear ?

“Yeah. Yeah it was good. We have enough fundings to rebuild a hundred schools haha. Just with your donation, we could’ve achieved all our project. Thank you, Bruce.”

“Well, it’s for a good cause.”

“Still, many do not think or care about it.”

“You know I agree with you about the importance of good education..”

Yes. Yes you know. You’ve had many passionate conversations about the future of Gotham, and what you wished it would become.

Both of you had the same ideas and ideals. Both of you wanted to see Gotham thriving and peaceful. With happy inhabitants that wouldn’t be afraid anymore.

The Batman helped a lot, for sure, but it was to the people to do the rest. By making the environment everyone was growing in a better place.

And it started...With schools.

Yes. Bruce always agreed with your point of view, and was the first to believe in you.

“You did great, you know. None of this projects would exist without you.”

“I just...gave people ideas. Nothing too big.”

“Nothing too big ? (Y/N), you singlehandedly change Gotham’s entire educative field, making every schools better.”

“Well, I didn’t do it alone.”

You turn to him, and smile.

Sure, maybe you initiated a lot of things. Maybe it’s your own experience and such that molded the entire charity and such. But without Bruce Wayne ? And his wonderful kids ? You’re not sure you would’ve gone too far.

Dick is the one that gave you the self-confidence you needed by having to be strong to help him out, Jason was the one who pushed you to finally take a step forward, Tim and his novel ideas always made you want to improve, Cass and her will to fight and learn inspired you greatly in inventing new methods to help out kids with specific needs, and Damian showed you everyone could change for the better, no matter what.

Wether you liked it or not, the Waynes really had a huge impact on your life.

And as you turned to Bruce, somehow, you saw he was thinking something similar...In his eyes, you could see how grateful he was, and how much you changed and helped his kids.

He smiles.

You smile.

Neither of you want to add anything. Everything goes through your eyes.

Thanksfullness. Gratefulness. Pride. Contentment.

It’s interesting, how for so many years, your fate and theirs was linked, in more ways than you could imagine.

To the point that now, Bruce couldn’t imagine a life without you, and vice versa.

You really were, great friends...

The word hurts, and you look away, unable to hold his gaze.

Friends.

His calloused fingers brush your cheek, you you’re so surprised you turn back to him and...No. No he can’t. You can’t.

You know this look.

And if you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve known for a while.

Which is why you were frustrated with him bringing dates everywhere, him still being kind of a playboy (even though his kids gave him an excuse to tame it down). Frustrated with those feelings too because...

Because both of you knew you shared it.

Both of you knew...Probably since a long time.

Not that you nor him would ever act upon it, because then, it could change everything, and in a very bad way.

Plus, you can’t date a student’s parent. You have a very strict ethic.

And he can’t bring you into his world.

Frustration.

You both know.

But you’ll never do anything about it.

And then...

...

He kisses you.

He kisses you and it’s like those past twelve years of pining for him suddenly fly away. Like you’re 23 again, fresh out of college, about to teach your first class ever, and you see him. About your age. And he has a ward...A son.

You talk for a few minutes, you fight, you apologize, it clicks. And then he leaves, and for a year, you help his son grow. After that, you don’t see him for a while...Until he comes back, with another adoptive son.

Jason. And then Tim. Cassandra. Finally, now, Damian.

All those years walking a parallel line to his, acting as if his kids aren’t your favorite in your class (because “you don’t play favorite, that’d go against my entire work ethic !”). Acting as if you don’t make up a lot of parent/teachers conferences just to see him (because you didn’t really need that much...). Acting as if it didn’t hurt you the most when his kids moved on, and you stopped seeing them...and him.

He kisses you and it’s like you’re 23 again. Acting right away on your feelings. Not being afraid.

Afraid of what ?

He’s one of your student’s father. It’s not ethical. He’s also rich and handsome, so out of your league. And it’s unrationnal, you don’t see him that often.

Afraid of what ?

Rejection. Loneliness. Knowing exactly what you want but never doing anything to achieve it. Regrets. ...

12 years vanish, as he kisses you.

You’re 23 again, and...and...And you can’t do this !

He’s one of your student’s parent ! He’s THE Bruce Wayne !

The sudden bliss you felt as his lips met yours vanishes too, and it’s like a cold bucket of water dumped on your head as you realize...

You can’t do this.

Now, or 12 years ago, it’s the same situation.

You can’t do this.

And so you softly pushes him away...

“I-I...”

It’s more difficult than you think, to say those words. He looks at you curiously, a fiery passion still lingering in his eyes.

“I can’t.”

You say, and the only thing you can do now, is run. Run as fast as you can.

“Fly you fools”, are the words that come to your mind. You have to leave, far, far away. And now, you have to stop talking to you.

Because this all thing is unethical.

You can’t date one of your student’s parent ! Even though none of them are your student anymore...

And Bruce Wayne is so out of your League ! Even though he’s the one who kissed you first...

And this could change everything, after all, he became your best friend, this could ruin everything ! Even though whenever you saw each others with someone else you felt like dying...

And he’ll surely reject you, you’re just you, a simple elementary teacher, and he’s him, THE bruce Wayne ! Even though he always looked at you as if you were much more than a “simple elementary school teacher”.

And...

“Why ?”

He asks. Why ? Why ? Why ? Why can’t you ?

Because of all the reasons you keep listing in your head. Student’s dad. Rejection. Out of league. Too much. Not enough. Regrets. Friendship.

Because...because...Why ?

He knows. Of course he does.

He knows you love him.

And deep down, amongst all the insecurities and fear...You know he loves you.

So, why ?

You can’t escape this. He knows. You know. You both knew for a while, without ever acting upon it. Why ?

Fears.

Stupid ones.

Why ?

As if a divine force was bringing you back to him, you get close to his body again, without even noticing yours moving.

Why not ?

When you think about it, all those years, it’s as if destiny lead you to each others. Bruce Wayne’s children should’ve never end up in a second rate school in a shitty neighborhood...And yet they all did.

An elementary school teacher really was supposed to have such a huge impact on “her” kids ? Well, you did.

Two parallel lines. Always going in the same direction, but never quite meeting.

Until a fateful accidental conjoncture.

Like a good night representing everything you believe in.

Like tonight.

So, why ?

“I can’t.”

You repeat, but you don’t even believe it yourself.

“Why ?”

“Because...Because...”

You can’t remember the reasons anymore. Was it even ever wrong ?

He leaves you time, makes sure you want this. He takes a step back on the balcony, away from the remnant of people.

You follow after him.

Why ?

Because you love him.

And he catches you in his arms...Why ?

Because he loves you.

12 years in the making.

Of obvious signs ignored...Why ?

You don’t even remember anymore. And it doesn’t matter.

Why ?

Because he’s kissing you again.

Now that he’s sure. Now that you’re not running away for...reasons you can’t recall. Now that he’s sure. Now that you’re sure.

It seems silly, that you lost so many years...But then again, it’s only now that you’re finally ready.

Why ?

Because as you both reflected on what you accomplished, and what the other’s place was in your life, you both came to a logic realization :

You were in love.

And so you kiss him back, and it’s like you’re 23 again.

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

“AH ! Finally !”

Tim exclaims, as he points to his father kissing his favorite teacher ever, Miss (Y/L/N)...No, (Y/N). And although he feels rather content that this is happening, he finds it disgusting.

“Oh geez they’re really going at it...”

Damian makes a face, because he also thinks the kiss is gross. However, in his heart, and not about to say it out loud just yet, he was very happy for his father. And for himself, really.

Cass, a smirk on her face, simply said :

“Called it.”

But then Dick, throwing an arm around her shoulder, adds :

“Oh no little sister. No no no. Eight years old me shall forever remain known as the one that “called it” first ! Hahahaha.”

And indeed, it’s only, over twelve years ago now, when little Dick asked if you could be his dad’s girlfriend, that you allowed your feelings to truly burgeoned.

Because as long as his kids were ok with you two being an item, really, who cared about anything else ?

_________________________________________________

WELL !! Here we are. I hope you liked it. Thanks very much for reading, and see you soon with a new story :). Hoping this one wasn’t too bad...

As usual, feedbacks, or comments about what you think of the story in general (good or bad, by the way. But please don’t be just mean, if you did not like something try to say why ? We usually all know why we don’t like a thing, so please if you think of something negatively, try to explain why you did not like it so I can improve next time and not just feel like shit ? Saying something is “bad” and that is it is counterproductive, rude and not very nice...There’s always a way to say things :) ) and reblogs and all are very VERY welcomed.

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Come Through Like the Sweetener You Are (Gottrosnali) - Writworm42

A/N: hey everyone! I’m really excited about this ship and about this fic, so I hope y'all like it. Title from Sweetener by Ariana Grande. Thank you thank you x1000 to Holtz for beta-ing, encouraging me, and brainstorming with me, you’re the best <3

“Mik, seriously, get on the ice. C’mon.”

Denali stays planted at the entrance of the rink, arms crossed as he watches his boyfriend shrink back shyly once again. If they hadn’t been at this for several minutes now, the sight of Mik so flustered and vulnerable, his ankles wobbling from the effort of holding himself up in his rental hockey skates and teeth chattering from the cold would have been pretty cute. It’s rare, seeing Mik this daunted by something, and it reminds Denali of the little kids he used to teach when he was a teenager. But, much like those kids after a six week cycle of classes, it’s starting to get old now, and they need to move—free-skate is starting to get crowded, and every passing skater that shoves their way past them seems to spook Mik just a little more.

He has to get Mik onto the ice, otherwise, he’s gonna have to get off it, and their skating date will be over before it’s even started.

“It’s okay, D, let me handle this, yeah?” Rosé comes up behind Mik just then, striding out from the changing room with a sympathetic smile on his face, as if he had anticipated the standoff. Knowing Rosé, he probably has, really—but Denali isn’t going to let him know that. He doesn’t need both his boyfriends ganging up on him, after all.

That’s a problem for another time, though; right now, Denali focuses on just shuffling to the side of the rink while Rosé wraps his arms around Mik, leaning over to kiss the smaller man on his temple.

“You okay, baby?” he checks in softly, giving Mik a little squeeze.

“I’m okay, I’m just…”

“You don’t need to be scared, sweetheart. D’s a pro, remember? And I’m here, too. We’ll make sure you’re safe, promise—Denali’s gonna be holding your hands, and I’m gonna be behind guarding your waist.”

Denali would be lying if he said he isn’t jealous of the way Rosé is with Mik in these moments, how easy it seems for him to make the other man relax. It’s not like he’s being mean, after all—he’s been coaxing and encouraging Mik ever since finding out that he’s never skated before. But for some reason, with Rosé in the mix, it just…clicks.

“Okay, I’ll go,” Mik sighs, rolling his eyes theatrically, “but only if Denali promises not to let go of my hand.”

The glimmer of validation and knowing he’s needed is enough to make Denali feel warm to the core as he glides forward, stops to take Mik’s hand. “I won’t, promise.”

“There’s a good boy,” Rosé teases, and Denali can’t help but giggle at how Mik blushes fiercely at the praise.

He leads Mik to toe-step onto the ice, marching him in place until they’re safely away from the entrance and off to the side in the back area of the rink, near the walls of the learner’s corner.

“So, like, can I hold onto—“

“Nope, we’re not letting you get into the habit.” Denali steels his grip on Mik’s hand as the man tries to reach for the rink’s walls, watching him pout as his attempts are thwarted. “You won’t be able to skate as well if you’re hugging the wall the whole time, trust me.”

“I’m not gonna skate that well as is.“ Mik huffs under his breath, but it’s no use protesting—all three of them know that Denali’s not going to hear it.

No, if he’s going to teach his boyfriend how to skate, then he’s going to do it right. Especially since realistically, being an LA boy at heart, Mik will likely never set foot on the ice again after today, so Denali really does only have this one shot.

Luckily, he’s dealt with enough kids by now to know how to get them comfortable.

“Let’s just start with some marches on the spot, yeah? C’mon, Rosie and I’ll do it with you.” he nods over to Rosé, and the both of them lift up their feet in sync, quiet chk-chk-chk noises echoing off the ice.

Mik watches hesitantly before finally throwing caution to the wind and joining them in their steps. He beams as he does, and Denali can’t help the pride that blooms in his chest—his sweetheart’s a natural, after all.

Of course, it’s at that very moment that Mik slips and starts to scramble, eyes wide until Rosé catches him around the waist.

“Oh shit.” Mik lets out a shaky laugh as Rosé pushes him back up with Denali’s help. “Not me almost dying with my boyfriends fully hanging onto me.”

“You didn’t almost die,” Rosé snorts, rolling his eyes, “We caught you, right?”

“And we’ll do it again, as much as we have to,” Denali chimes in, and Mik must know he means it, because even though he rolls his eyes, he smiles gently, his eyes soft and glowing with trust.

“Okay, from the top, let’s try marching forward now.” Rosé cuts through the tender moment with a light tap to Mik’s ass, grinning widely.

“Perv.” Mik launches over his shoulder, sticking out his tongue and scrunching up his nose, but he starts to step again.

They continue like that around the learner’s area for a length or so, Mik occasionally tripping up and needing to stop to hyperventilate for a moment before they can keep going, until they finally settle into a smooth rhythm that tells Denali that Mik is ready for something more. In fact, he’s pretty excited for it–even just over this small period of time, Mik’s confidence has definitely grown, and even though he’s kept a death-grip on Denali’s hands, Rosé has long gone from holding onto Mik to simply keeping his arms up close to him just in case, and Mik hasn’t actually seemed to notice. It makes Denali’s heart swell with pride, and when he looks into his boyfriend’s eyes and sees the excitement shining in them, he can’t help but feel warm inside, remembering how exciting it was for him the first time he’d moved on the ice, way back when.

“What do you think, Rosie, is he ready for gliding?” Denali peeks over at Rosé, whose hands have dropped completely from Mik’s waist and are now shoved into her jacket pockets.

“Oh, I think he’s ready for gliding,” Rosé grins, “Mik, you ready for gliding?”

Mik turns around to look at Rosé and almost falls again, but this time steadies himself, letting out a disbelieving laugh when he gets back upright. “After this gorge performance?” he strikes a pose, framing his face, “You guys, I’m so ready to gl–”

Before he can finish his sentence, a kid barely reaching his hip-level whizzes past, displaying excellent control and holding her leg up for one, two, three seconds before coming to a perfect stop in front of her parents.

It’s probably the longest Mik has ever gone without talking, the silence once again only broken by Rosé beginning to sing wake up in the morning, thinkin’ ‘bout so many things, followed by Mik and Denali both bursting out in laughter.

“So now that we’ve had our little self-aware gag moment, should we get to gliding?” Mik wipes a tear from his eye as the laughter dies down, and Denali and Rosé only nod before re-assuming their positions around him.

Denali tightens his grip on Mik’s hand but skates a little farther out to widen the distance between them and Rosé skates up from behind to bring his hands near Mik’s waist, not yet touching but ready to catch him just in case, and they feel the air around them change, Mik visibly relaxing at the re-institution of his safety net.

Of course the same kid chooses that very moment to whizz past them again while sporting a huge, shit-eating grin, and Denali has to wonder if she’s doing it on purpose now.

“Is it rude to trip a child?” Rosé ponders out loud, perhaps a little too loudly. “D, it’s good practice for them, right? Learning how to fall and get up?”

The kid stops mid-skate and changes her direction, and Denali has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek not to laugh again.

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get to gliding.”

Denali watches over his boyfriends’ shoulders as the kid glides out of the learner’s corner to join the regular circuit, and feels a little relief at how much safer it suddenly seems, with only wall-clingers, other marchers, and toddlers with tired parents left. Good; he can finally focus on Mik again. “Ready?”

“Gorge, let’s do it.” Mik nods resolutely, and Denali begins to pull him forward, grinning from ear to ear as Mik lets out a little squeal of excitement and pride as they begin to move.

—

“Okay, now sit here, behave yourselves, and stay quiet. ” Denali points sternly over to the bleachers by the rink, frowning at Mik and Rosé and hoping that his tone is enough for them to take him seriously.

Predictably, though, both of them just grin mischievously, blowing on their hot chocolates casually as if they’re not already dreaming up ways to embarrass him as Rosé shrugs, “No promises.”

“I swear to God—“

“Go practice, D. We’ll be perfectly behaved little angels, I swear,” Mik cuts in, batting his eyelashes innocently, and Denali resists the urge to snort at the statement.

He wishes he could believe them, he really does, but he also knows these clowns better than that by now, and knows that he is in for at least one shout of ‘ HE ON X GAMES!!’ before he steps off the ice again.

He doesn’t have time for skepticism, though—for better or for worse, it’s time for his practice session, and he had promised Rosé and Mik that they could watch.

Rosé and Mik have seen Denali perform a hundred times. Even before Denali and Rosé had started dating Mik, he had come to all of Denali’s shows with Rosé to support him, and to this day, they both hang onto the edge of their seats when Denali skates, taking him out for drinks after and excitedly retelling how gorge that triple lutz was or how much they loved his costume or how proud they were of him. They had learned everything about skating, all the terminology and competition rules. They know exactly what Denali likes to do to unwind after a long day of rehearsals, how to facilitate his pre-audition routine and what he needs to hear before and after one.

And yet, there’s something about his practices, especially the one-on-ones, that feel…sacred. Vulnerable. Like they’re for his and his coach’s eyes only. Like if anyone is around to see him fall flat on his ass, fuck up a combo so bad the whole rest of the number is thrown, then something will click for the spectator, a realization that he’s not so talented after all.

For those spectators to be his boyfriends? Well, sure, realistically, he knows that they would never think that about him. They’re his partners, after all, and they’re human too. He’s been in the house when Rosé is practicing a song and his voice cracks, and he’s walked in on Mik trying new makeup techniques that look… less than gorge, he’ll put it that way. In both of those moments, he’s never thought anything about either of them except that their efforts and dedication are adorable, and that for sure, they’ll get it next time.

But still–they’ve got confidence in him, think that he’s perfect. They’ve never seen him slam into the wall because he put too much power into his travelling, or wobble on his feet and make a messy landing because he hesitated on one of his jumps. Even the thought that they might see him imperfect–that they might get disappointed in him, that their image of him might change, is so painful it makes it hard to breathe.

No, when he’s on the ice performing, he’s untouchable. Above everything. Queen of the world. And if there’s two people in the world he doesn’t want to shatter that image for, it’s the his boyfriends sitting at the end of the rink, already whipping their phones out to record him stretching.

Oh, God. Now if he messes up, everyone on Instagram will see it.

He swivels around to face away from the windows of the rink and put his boyfriends out of his mind as he begins to stretch, bending down to touch the tips of his bare fingers to the frigid, freshly-smoothed ice, only to almost topple over when Rosé’s voice echoes through the rink.

“ YES, SHOW US THAT ASS, MAMA! GET FLEXIBLE!”

Christ.

Well, he’s still got about a half hour left to warm up and practice on his own before his coach shows up. Might as well give those two fools a show.

He brings his leg up and stretches it above his head easily without holding onto the wall, and grins when he hears both men absolutely lose their shit, screaming and praising and probably making a million boomerangs. He almost wishes he could turn back to see the looks on their faces, really, though he knows he’d probably fall if he did. So instead, he drops his foot and does it on his other side, this time pulling it a little farther so that it’s behind his head, and it strains a bit, but it’s manageable, and the way Mik and Rosé’s screams get even louder makes it completely worth it.

“Three words: Gag. A. Tondra !” Denali hears Mik shout, either straight to him or to his phone, but suddenly, it doesn’t matter. This is the most fun he’s ever had just stretching, and when he’s laughing and smiling like this, it’s easy to forget where he is and what he had even been nervous about in the first place. So he can be a bit of a show-off at times—sue him. He’s living for it more and more with every stretch, and he finds himself getting excited to actually start skating.

He begins to mark his latest routine, spinning lightly and moving his hands to signal every jump as he looks down at the ice, trying to remember every move. It’s a new routine, one he’s only just fully learned but has to perform at an opening gala in two weeks, so he needs to have it perfect, and soon. Especially since he has a group routine for the same gala knocking around in his head, too, and he can’t let them get mixed up. It makes his chest tighten a little just at the thought of it, his attention so completely absorbed in his run through that he’s startled when he hears the boom of the rink’s gate swing open, surprised enough to lose his footing and stumble, tripping over his skates and falling to the ground.

Shit, fuck, and shit again. Not even half an hour into his practice and he’s already fucked up right in front of Mik and Rosé. And just when he was doing so well, knocking them dead with barely any actual stunts yet. They must think he’s stupid, getting scared by something as stupid as a noise he’s so used to, and now he’s lost his train of thought and can’t remember where he was in his routine—

“Go on, Nali! You can do this!”

“You’re doing amazing, sweetie!”

“We love you!”

His head snaps up to see Mik and Rosé standing up, clapping their hands and smiling warmly as they shout their encouragement across the room. It hits him then, exactly what Mik and Rosé have been cheering on this whole time. Not his success, not the flashy tricks and stunts he knows he can blow anyone away with. Not even his talent, really.

They’ve been cheering for his effort. For his enjoyment. For his passion. For the Denali they see on the ice whether he’s in his head or not, regardless of whether his movements are graceful or sloppy. The thing they’ve been enjoying most, so enthusiastic about this whole time?

It’s not figure skating. It’s Denali. He could be doing anything anywhere, and they’d be screaming and cheering and supporting him no matter what, because they don’t care what he’s doing–they just care that it’s him.

“Quite the cheering section, huh?” his coach steps out towards him, grinning as she looks over towards where Mik and Rosé are still watching, still waving and making hearts with their hands every time Denali looks over, and it’s all he can do not to get emotional when he smiles widely, nodding.

“Yeah. The best.”

And Hell, maybe it’s luck, maybe it’s just how happy he is. Maybe Mik and Rosé are just that good an influence to have around. Either way, that practice session is definitely his best one yet.

–

The first thing Denali does the minute they all step back into their apartment that evening is make a beeline for the couch to collapse. He feels the fatigue sinking down into his bones the minute his body hits the cushions, making him heavy yet content, happy to wriggle and get comfy before letting the exhaustion of the day fully wash over him. There’s something satisfying about being in this state, so spent from such a fun day. It’s like every memory he’s made today is carried in his muscles even this long after the adventure is over, each sigh he lets out a catalogue of every laugh, every smile, every bit of happiness he’d experienced in his adventures.

Not to mention how when he’s this tired, Rosé and Mik are eager to spoil him, but that’s besides the point.

“Can we get you anything, baby?” Rosé comes up behind the couch, reaching down to run a gentle hand through Denali’s hair. “Some dinner, maybe? Tea? A massage?”

“Will that last option come with a happy ending?” Denali jokes slyly, turning his head just in time to see Rosé roll his eyes, laughing a bit to himself.

“As much as I’d love that, this bitch is tired too, mama. Now scoot over a bit, make some room for me.”

“Mm.” Denali kicks his legs a little in protest, but obliges, pulling himself up on the couch just enough to give Rosé room to kneel over him comfortably. Within moments, Denali is melting under the other man’s touch, letting Rosé’s hands work the knots and fatigue from his back and shoulders slowly, tenderly, exactly the way he needs.

“Where’s Mik, by the way?” Denali ponders as Rosé begins to ease off, content with his work and how Denali has gone limp from it. It’s rare not to hear from Mik this long, not have him bounce around and whine for attention of his own from both of his partners, so Denali can’t help but feel a little suspicious at the quiet. If Mik is occupied, he’s either focusing on something or doing something he shouldn’t be, and if it’s the latter, then–

The smoke alarm answers Denali’s question before Rosé can so much as open his mouth.

“Shit, shit, SORRY!” Mik calls out from the kitchen. “Don’t worry you guys, I got this–”

“You’re supposed to be making ramen!” Rosé calls back over the shrill beep of the alarm, followed by a chair scraping along the kitchen floor. “How the fuck did you burn ramen?”

The smoke alarm goes quiet, and Denali has to cover his mouth from laughing as Mik protests, “I saw this gorgeous recipe that Ariana posted for this like, pan-fried noodles artistry moment, and I thought, hey, ramen is noodles, so why not?”

“Gee, I dunno, maybe ‘cause you’ll burn the apartment down?” Rosé pinches the bridge of his nose, but Denali can see that he’s trying not to smile.

“Well I didn’t, so crisis averted, problem solved.” Mik whips around the corner and points a fork at them with narrow eyes, and Denali can’t hold it anymore–he lets out a loud string of giggles, which become howls of laughter when Mik stamps his foot, pouting and demanding that Denali stop laughing at him. After a second, though, Rosé joins in, and then even Mik can’t resist letting out a chuckle despite himself.

“Okay baby, sit down with Denali, let the adults handle this.” Rosé teases as he heaves himself up from his position on the couch, tapping the cushion beside him to invite Mik over.

“Hey, I’m an adult!” Mik pouts, but Rosé doesn’t respond, only walks up to Mik to give him a little kiss before patting him on the head.

“Of course you are, sweetie,” he coos, pulling away just in time to narrowly avoid a swat from Mik. “Seriously, though, I’ll be right back–why don’t you and D pick something to watch in the meantime?”

Mik doesn’t look particularly satisfied with the suggestion, but makes his way over to the couch nonetheless. Denali watches him come over, even extends his arms out for his boyfriend to walk into, but it’s then that he realizes his mistake. Mik’s pout fades, and a glint of mischief shines in his eyes, and before Denali can shield himself, Mik pounces, landing pretty much in Denali’s lap and attacking him with a hug.

“Hi, gorge.” Mik’s voice is soft as he nuzzles into Denali, a dreamy smile on his face. It’s precious, really, the way Mik is glowing as he squeezes Denali tight, and Denali can’t help but run a hand through the shorter man’s hair before peppering a light kiss on the top of his head.

“Did you have fun today, baby?”

Denali pulls Mik just a little closer, his heart melting at the little mm of satisfaction Mik lets out as the closing of distance between them allows him to splay out a little, head resting on Denali’s shoulder. It’s almost enough to distract from the sudden uptick in Denali’s heart rate that he can feel, the stakes resting on the question suddenly sinking in for him. This day, after all, was a way of letting Mik into his world, more up-close than the LA native ever had before. And he really, really wants Mik to like that world.

Luckily, his fears are put to rest when Mik nods, his dopey, tired grin taking on a spark of excitement as he reassures Denali, “It was great, D. I loved it. Almost as much as I love you.”

Denali rolls his eyes at the cheesy line, but nonetheless, when Mik cranes up to kiss him on the cheek, he feels a rush of happiness swell in his chest. Not just at the fact that Mik had enjoyed their day, but also the fact that it is ending like this - curled up on the couch with his boyfriend leaning against him, craning up to give him playful, light kisses wherever he can plant them. Still, there’s something missing, another presence that would make this cozy scene truly home. Something, some one that would cuddle him in turn, hold him and squeeze him and–

“Are you guys cuddle-piling without me?” Rosé puts his hand to his chest as he gasps in mock-offense, propping a tray of piping-hot ramen cups against his body with his other arm. Denali laughs a little, because it’s cute how pouty Rosé looks at the prospect of being left out of all this affection, but he answers nonetheless by letting go of Mik briefly, extending his arms out and making grabby hands to invite Rosé to join them.

“Yay, sandwich!” Mik squeals with delight as Rosé gets on the other side of him, wrapping his arms around Mik and just reaching Denali’s waist with his fingers. It’s enough to make Denali melt, even the light contact enough to feel like he’s home. He lets out a contented sigh, wiggling a little to get comfortable and shimmy just a little more into Rosé’s outstretched hands, before he relaxes fully, his eyes fluttering closed as he feels his breath sync with his boyfriends’, their hearts beating almost as one.

“We should probably eat before the ramen gets cold, right?” Mik speaks up after a moment, but makes no attempt to move, and Denali just smiles, shaking his head.

“Let it keep cooling. I wanna stay like this for a little longer.”

#rpdr fanfiction #denali foxx #rosé #gottmik #denali x gottmik x rosé #s13 #fluff #canon compliant #writworm42 #poly

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

Text

The trial begins; Roger Taylor x reader x oc male

*Author’s note*

Well it’s been a LOOOOOONG time since I did a Rock Angel update but I finally got the time to do it and finally finish the DARKEST chapter of the Rock Angel’s life. So everything from here on out will be either PURE FLUFF OR PURE ANGST. Now I did my best to research actual court trial procedures plus using my brief knowledge of the justice system from a couple classes I took back in college but if there’s anything I got wrong and you’re actually studying court system/law enforcement PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLLLEEEEEEAAAAAAASSSSSE LET. ME. KNOW.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@geek-and-proud

@wormzteef

@queen-paladin

@starswin

@isabella-bby

@5sos-wdw

@bohemiansweede

@onebigfangirlworld

@ssa-sadboi

@naturalswifty89

@labessieisallama

___________________________________________________________

Six months of physical rehab, a year of therapy, and 2 surgeries later, I was finally able to get back to some normalcy. Of course the nightmares were frequent every night and of course the kids, especially Kelly, suffered a great deal of it as well.

During my rehabilitation in physical therapy, I had done a court case against James Woods for unprofessional hiring and neglect of care for his client’s safety and managed to sue his ass for over $275,000. Not only that but Hollywood Records fired his arse and once his name became public, no record company wanted to do business with him ever again.

But of course the main trail against Steve was still to come. Due to the restrictions of his uncle no longer able to help him out anymore, Steve’s bail money was set for $75,000. And since no one could afford to bail him out, Steve remained in prison until the trial date set for March 19th.

I was currently sitting on a tire swing in the barn at mom’s and Misha’s place. Since the news were running my story everywhere, Jack thought it best to keep us and the kids away from the city press so we went to his parent’s farm to hide away from the stress. The sky was cloudy and it was slightly chilly out today but I barely acknowledged it due to my nerves as the trial date was drawing near. I soon felt a jacket come around my shoulders and a soft voice said.

“Reminds me of when you rain out during that rainstorm when Prenter revealed your secret to us.”

“I’d feel a lot better if you didn’t mention that arsehole’s name right now dad.”

“You’re right I’m sorry. But hey be thankful this time you’re in a barn and not out in the pouring rain. After that day you got sick for 4 days.”

“Yeah. And you and Deacy were there to take care of me the entire time. Hell you skipped an entire rehearsal to take care of me.”

“You’re my daughter (n/n). I’ll always be there to take care of you. Even when you don’t want me to.” He said as he leaned up against the tire swing and swayed us from side to side.

Since being released from the hospital, while Deacy went home to tell Ronnie and the rest of the kids I was fine, and Brian had to go back for his solo tour, Roger elected to stay with me and the rest of the family to help take care of us.

He called Dominque and his side chic of his decision to stay with me till the trail was over and the two women accepted his decision (which was a shocker on Debbie’s part. I knew Dominque understood).

“What’s going on in that head of yours lovey?” he asked me. He stopped the swaying and came in front of me, his hands holding onto the rope.

“I’m terrified dad.” I admitted. “With the court date—I know I’m going to have to face him and it—fucking terrifies me. You know he’s gonna be looking at me the entire time. But I can’t just abandon the trial, otherwise he’ll walk free with hardly a sentence.” He sighed deeply.

“I know this isn’t easy for you. Hell if it were up to me, I would’ve never allowed it to come this far. I’m your father and I failed to protect you.”

“But you didn’t know dad. In truth it’s really my fault. I should’ve spoken up about this to you and the guys before it escalated it the way it did.”

“Hold it right there. Don’t go blaming yourself now (Y/n). This was in no way your fault.”

“Then it shouldn’t be yours.” He nodded. “I just……what if I don’t have the strength to stay in the same room as him? Or what if the law gives him a slap on the wrist like they’ve done before?” Roger came around and wrapped an arm around my collar bone, his chin resting on my head as his other hand rubbed my left arm up and down.

“Because unlike before where they couldn’t prove he did those things, the news has proof of his attempted murder of you. Your lawyers have pulled up all the evidence of the additional charges that you and Jack want to charge him with, he can’t win this time. Your prosecutors won’t allow that to happen.”

“I just wish Freddie was here to help me with this.”

“So do I love. So do I. But do you know what he’d tell you right now?” I looked up at him and he looked right at me. “He’d tell you. ‘Buck up darling. You go to that courtroom, look that fucker in the eye. And show him he didn’t win. That he can’t win. For while he may be the Big Bad Wolf, you are the Lioness Queen.’”

Dad hugged me and I placed my hand on his arm that was still wrapped across my collar bone and leaned my head against his chest.

*March 19th, 1994. One hour till court hearing*

Back in New York City; Dad, Jack, and myself had just arrived at the New York airport. Waiting for us was my lawyer Mr. Barnes and the rest of the Prosecuting team. And of course the media wanted a piece of me before the court hearing. So Jack and Roger were sandwiching me out of the eyes of the media, while my lawyers were diverting the cameras away from me till we got to the car.

“Mrs. Kline do you have anything to say on behalf of this case!”

“Do you believe Steve Harrison should be given the death penalty?”

“Did you engage any intimate relationships with Mr. Harrison?”

“My client has no comments at this time!” Mr. Barnes stated firmly to the press as Jack quickly guided me inside the car. Roger came in after him followed by Mr. Barnes and the others.

The driver immediately headed for the courthouse and Mr. Barnes told me.

“Alright so Mrs. Kline. Just to review you are still willingly to make your testimony on the stand, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Now I know you’ve been through a lot and his DA team will try to push your buttons but I must strictly advise you to keep your composure and your temper because if you bat an eye once or raise your voice for any reason, the DA will use that to their advantage.”

“I’ll do my best. Truthfully, I just want this whole mess over with so that I never have to see him again.” Jack took my hand in both of his giving it a comforting squeeze, while dad rubbed my shoulder.

“Understood ma’am.” The rest of the drive was pretty silent until we arrived at the courthouse.

As we entered inside not only were their lawyers, security guards, and various other people there for other trials, the rest of the NYC press was also there.

“THERE SHE IS!!! THE ROCK ANGEL!!!” A female reporter called out. Once again we were horded by a swarm of cameras and microphones/tape recorders being shoved in our faces.

“My client refuses to speak or make any comments at this time! Now all of you please move back! Can we get security over here!” soon enough police and security made their way through the crowd and tried to back off the vultures. But New York press people are as tough as they come, when they want something they’ll do anything to get it.

They proved themselves strong and determined to get a word out of me, but I just held my shades over my eyes and kept my head down to avoid any cameras getting a picture of my face. Finally after what felt like forever, we arrived at the room where my trial was being held.

Already the room was packed with people, the media that was allowed to document this case had their cameras set up and their recorders ready to record what they needed.

My attorneys guided me towards the desk where we would be sitting at while Jack and my dad took their seats in the crowd just two rows behind us. I sat down inbetween Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson, the leading Prosecutor and we all waited for the moment of truth for Steve to arrive.

About 20min. later, the DA team came in and walking in between a very large fat man and a thinner older man with white hair was Steve Harrison. In chains and in that infamous orange jumpsuit.

When his eyes looked directly at me, I once again saw that empty look in his eyes. There was just nothing there in those piercing brown eyes of his. But spreading across his face was a smug grin. It was faint but I could see it clear as day as he kept staring me down.

“Don’t look at him. He’s trying to provoke you.” Mr. Wilson, the Head Prosecutor whispered to me. “Just look at the Judge and block him out.” As the courtroom continued to fill in with people as well as the 12 jurors, I felt my heart beating faster and my palms grew sweater by the second.

“He’s still looking over at me, I can feel it.”

“Again don’t let him get under your skin. I’m told you’re called Mama Lioness for a reason, now let me see that.” Mr. Wilson whispered to me again. I took a deep breath and recomposed myself. “Atta girl.” He encouraged me. As 9o’clock struck, the bailiff said.

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Mayweather.” We all stood up and soon coming in was a man around his 50’s, maybe even 60’s, wearing prescription glasses which emphasized his blue eyes. He was a tall, lean man standing well over 6ft tall.

“You may now be seated.” He said with a soft but commanding tone as he took his seat at the podium. We all sat down and he opened the files. “The charges against the defendant Steve Harrison include attempted 1st degree murder, aggravated stalking, and 1st degree kidnapping. How does the defendant plea?”

“Not guilty your honor.” Steve’s obese lawyer proclaimed. Of course he’d plead not guilty.

“Very well. We shall began with the opening statements from each side. Prosecution, you have the floor.”

“Thank you your honor.” Mr. Barnes stated as he stood up. He paced around the front of the courtroom and made his opening statement, “Ladies and gentlemen of the court; Obsession is a dangerous thing. We all feel it. Whether it’s for the next best product, or for someone we want in our lives. And my client has been a victim of one man’s obsession for more than a year and a half. The defendant Steve Harrison not only put her through a living hell but also her entire family. Harassing, assaulting and even kidnapping my client’s eldest child. All for the sake of a delusion he had in his mind. But he had the conscious to know what he was doing was wrong. Mr. Harrison plotted, articulated and chose his methods on how to harm my client and her family and last June he almost achieved his goal when he put those two bullets in her before a live audience.”

“Thank you Mr. Barnes.” Judge Mayweather spoke. Mr. Barnes came and sat down beside me as the judge continued, “Defense council, you may give your opening statement.” Steve’s lawyer stood up and stood before the court.

“Abuse, fear, and control. My client has dealt with these issues his entire life. His uncle manipulated him into pleasing his every demand for he was the only father-figure he had in his life. My client wanted to do everything to please his uncle’s every demand. But it was not also just his uncle, it was also the so called ‘Rock Angel’ that had seduced him into thinking she actually cared for him.”

Excuse me?! I almost wanted to raise my voice and call Steve’s lawyer out for his accusations but one stern look from Mr. Wilson told me to keep my mouth shut, less I risk making myself look bad before the jury and call this a mistrial.

“Not only that but also the threat’s from the Angel’s husband also caused my client great fear and anxiety. He felt like he needed to defend himself so as we begin this trial I ask you, the jurors to see that it was my client who was forced into committing these acts as a means of protection. Not out of his own desire, but for his own safety. Thank you.” He bowed his head before taking his seat.

“Right then. We shall now begin with the 1st charge of attempted murder. Prosecutor Wilson, do you have your first witness?”

“We do your honor. Prosecution calls Jack Kline to the stand.” Mr. Barnes stated. Jack stood up from the audience and proceeded towards the stand. Once he was there, Mr. Wilson held the Holy Bible and held it out to Jack, who then placed his right hand on top of it while raising his left hand in the air. “Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?”

“I do.” Jack replied before taking his seat at the stand. It was then Mr. Barnes came up and proceeded with the direct examination.

“Mr. Kline can you tell us what happened prior to the concert shooting last June?”

“My wife (Y/n) was finishing up the last leg of her tour. On March 4th, 1992 we received a letter from Steve Harrison.”

“And what did the letter say?”

“It said a lot of things. About her about me but what really caught our eyes was he wrote and I quote. ‘I’ve had enough of this bullshit. If I can’t have you, no one can. So you better perform with one eye on the audience and one eye on the shadows. I’m going to kill you, you fucking bitch’.”

“And according to you and your cousin Jensen, who was acting as her head security. He tried to harm her, is that true?” Mr. Barnes asked.

“Yes. At her show in Atlanta he snuck in through the screen room and tried to kidnap her.” Mr. Barnes nodded and said to the jury.

“After his arrest in Atlanta, police reports said they found zip-ties, a bottle of chloroform and a 6in steel blade hunting knife. He was detained for only 8 weeks when his bail was made by an anonymous payer.” He turned back to Jack. “What happened the day of the concert at Madison Square Garden?”

At that point I saw Jack tense up. He shifted uncomfortably before he said.

“My wife was up on stage performing her favorite Queen song, which she made a cover of per Freddie’s request, and just before she ended the song. Steve, in police uniform, came up behind my wife and shot her in the back. As she lay there on the floor he shot her again in the stomach. Then I—” he trailed off as he glared towards Steve who looked at him blankly.

His eyes were just soulless as they stared up at Jack. While Jack’s eyes were full of hatred.

“I then watched him take her wedding ring right off her finger before smirking at me. Like he was proud that he took my wife’s life and the symbol of her being my wife, my equal.”

“Thank you, nothing further your honor.” Mr. Barnes walked back to his seat. Now it was Steve’s lawyer’s time to cross examine my husband’s statement.

“You said that Steve wrote you a letter. Directed to both you and your wife is that correct?”

“Yes. Yes he did.”

“Said some crude stuff about you and your wife, correct?”

“Yes. Called her some stuff I’d really rather not stay and do things that no other man should do to her.”

“Objection!” Mr. Barnes exclaimed.

“Overruled.” Judge Mayweather said.

“Ladies and gentlemen I have here in my hand a copy of the letter written by my client. It is a hefty one I give you that but let me direct your attention to page 3, 4th paragraph. My client has written in detail. ‘On Halloween night of 1992, your husband physically beat me and then with no reason at all, sicked your dogs on me. I had to get 25 stitches on my leg and 30 on my right arm.’ Did you order your dogs to attack my client?”

“Only because he broke into my house after he assaulted me first!”

“Ladies and gentlemen I also have here in my hands the police report of that night. Let the record show that my client in no shape or form, physically break into the Rock Angel’s home . The door was wide open, there were no security cameras. So who’s to say that the dogs didn’t attack my client outside of the house?” I looked to the jury and some of them were actually believing what the Defense was saying. “Now Mr. Kline you do realize that dog attacks are a serious offense. Especially according to California law, right?”

“Objection your honor! Steve Harrison still entered the premise illegally by accounts to his restraining order!” Mr. Wilson stated as he stood up.

“That is true. Defense counselor best you alternate your question on that remark.” Take that you son of a bitch. Steve’s lawyer turned back to Jack and he said.

“But you still confirm that you allowed your dogs to attack my client?”

“Yes. Because your client was about to attack my 6 year old daughter and 2 year old twin sons.”

“Nothing further your honor.” Steve’s lawyer said. Jack was then allowed to go back to sit beside Roger.

The court continued on and after briefing for a half hour recess, the trial continued and finally I was allowed to take the stand. I swore under oath and my lawyer questioned me.

“Now Mrs. Kline what can you tell us about Steve Harrison when your first met him? Did you at all have anything to do with hiring him?”

“No. His uncle hired him as a favor for his sister, to ensure that Steve finally got himself a job.” I took a pause there thinking back to the day I first met Steve. “At first he seemed like a nice guy. He seemed to know what he was doing so it wasn’t like he was unqualified. He got me to my appointments on time, kept my schedule in check. And remained professional for the first year and a half of being hired.”

“Now you said he remained professional after a year and a half. Care to elaborate on what changed between you two?”

“It was 2 months after the Freddie Mercury tribute concert, the start of summer 1992. I was recording my last album ‘Fly High Mercury’. I barely slept in a week; Steve was there helping me out. We talked about the album, then it transitioned into family talk. As we were talking he started to get a little too close to me, actually even pining me up against the wall of the studio. Next thing I knew, his lips were on mine. He was kissing me without my consent.”

“And as you claim, everything went downhill from there?”

“Yes. The gifts, the constant phone calls, the harassment in the studio. Going off on delusions telling me things like why did I marry Jack Kline? That our kids should’ve been from his sperm. Telling me how in the music industry singers are always cheating on their spouses and I’m no different. That we could have a separate life together while I continue to rise to the top.”

“Which meant you sleeping with him while he helped make your name bigger?”

“Yes. But I refused. Because I’m not like those women who will sleep around to get what she wants. I’ll get it my way through my resources and strengths.” Mr. Barnes nodded at me with a slight grin at the corner of his face.

“Nothing further your honor.” Now it was the defense attorney’s turn.

“You’ll get through the music industry through your own resources and your own strengths.” He asked in more of a questioning tone as he came up towards me.

“Along with the support and love of my family.” I added.

“Interesting. Mrs. Kline isn’t it true that you first began your career with the help of Queen’s help?”

“Objection your honor! How is this relevant to this case?” Mr. Wilson proclaimed.

“I’ll be getting to that your honor but Mrs. Kline must answer my question.” The greasy, obese man stated as he leaned closer towards my podium. I could just smell the disgusting cigar breath off his lips.

“Mrs. Kline, please answer the question.” The judge told me to do.

“They—helped me with my confidence in getting in front of an audience. But at the time I had no idea until hours before the show that’s what they were going to be doing.”

“And then afterwards you continued to use Queen’s resources to help you gain the fame you got in just under a year when most artists especially female singers can hardly get to that degree of fame on their own?”

“Objection your honor! He’s badgering the victim!” Mr. Wilson tried to suade the judge but judge Mayweather overruled it.

“I—we did have the same manager. But how is that different in the case when John Reid was managing both Queen and Elton John over 20 years ago?”

“Mr. Russell, I do hope you’re going somewhere with this because at this point you’re starting to try my patience.”

“Your honor this woman claims to use resources and her own strength, when, in fact, she manipulates men into getting what she wants in life. You said that you hadn’t slept in a week when recording the album? As we all know lack of sleep causes delusions and false memories of events. What if you merely imagined that my client tried to kiss you that night in the studio? And then afterwards had become so paranoid that you antagonized my client to be the villain in this court case!”

“I know what happened as clear as day that night in the studio. And I wasn’t imagining what I saw!” I snapped furiously at him.

“Mrs. Kline control your temper or I will have you placed under contempt of court!” Judge Mayweather warned me.

“Nothing further your honor.” Steve’s lawyer spoke before returning to his chair. I was then called off back to my chair and I brushed my fingers through my hair anxiously.

“Just breathe. Don’t let the jury think they might’ve seen a false allegation in this case.” Mr. Barnes whispered to me. I took a few deep breaths before recomposing myself.

Finally it was Steve’s turn to take the stand.

His defense team started off by asking pretty much the same questions Mr. Barnes asked me. How he got the job, what was it like working for me. And of course Steve tried to paint himself as the victim and I’ll admit he was a damn good actor. Some of the jury was actually swayed by his performance.

I was petrified that even here in the Supreme Court of New York, Steve Harrison was gonna walk away with a slap on the wrist like he has been for the past 2 years.

For five days the trail continued on the same way, people taking their turn on the stands, each side providing their evidence to the jury with each charge we were doing against Steve.

On the 6th day it was time for the final claims as well as closing statements.

“Mrs. Kline, can you describe to us the day when your daughter disappeared from school?” Mr. Barnes asked me.

“Well….” I adjusted the microphone in front of me and said. “I was busy planning my next upcoming tour and Jack had to work overtime at the car dealers. But we had asked my cousin in law Jared go pick her up. The school requires a full on sign-in sheet of additional guardians who are allowed to pick up the students in case the parents can’t pick up their students.”

“And you had Mr. Ackles name to that list correct?”

“Yes. Along with his wife, brother, sister in law and my in-laws as well as the remaining members of Queen.”

“And how did you know that Kelly had been taken my Steve?”

“Jared had called me from the school and told me that Kelly had already been picked up by someone and after an hour and a half, that’s when I got the call from Steve himself. Telling me to meet him at Bull Creek.”

“And did at any time did you give Steve Harrison full permission to pick up your daughter?”

“No. None of my Rock Angel team had authorization to go to Kelly’s school.” He then pulled out a file of Steve’s forged note with my signature on it that gave him clearance to pick Kelly up.

“Now as you can see here, I hold in my hand the actual documented note of Mr. Harrison’s forged letter of Pick-Up for one Kelly Kline. Her school codes states, that if there isn’t any documentation of said people to pick up the child in question, they must provide a note signed by the parent themselves in order to pick up the child.”

“Objection!” Steve’s DA proclaimed.

“Overruled.” Judge Mayweather stated.

“Knowing this; Mr. Harrison printed out the letter of documented proof that he had access to pick up Kelly Kline. He then forged Mrs. Kline’s signature as you’ll see up close here.” On the overhead projector he had both my real signature and Steve’s forged signature with my name on it. “Now as you can see it’s practically identical. But if you look very closely there is a difference.” He then put a magnifying glass up to my last name. “You’ll notice how she writes the K with a curved slant at the top right line for the K itself. While on Mr. Harrison’s forged signature the corner line is completely straight.”

“Objection your honor! Everyone writes their signatures slightly different every time. This shows no proof that my client forged her signature.” Steve’s DA proclaimed.

“If I may your honor before I was interrupted by my assistant council, I have more proof on why this letter was not signed by my client.”

“Proceed.” The judge granted him. He then removed the two comparisons and pulled up a paper where I was forced to give my signature ten times.

“As you can see here this is my client’s handwritten signature. Now look at the K’s.” he pulled the magnifying glass up to the top corner line to show each one had that exact same curve. “Each one of her top corners has that slight curve to them. Ten. Times my client has written her name. And all ten times each K had that curve on the top corner. Not once does she alternate how she curves it, or accidentally do a straight slant. Each. Top. Corner. Is curved.” The jurors all looked at each other, some of them nodding. “So it proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mr. Harrison forged my client’s signature to gain access to her daughter, kidnapping her in order to gain my client’s attention. Forcing her to a remote area where god knows what he could’ve had in mind. But my client isn’t some damsel in distress.” Mr. Barnes turned to look up at me.

“Mrs. Kline you may return to the Prosecutor’s table.” As I stood up and walked down Judge Mayweather called for closing statements. Steve’s DA came up and the fat man stated.

“We all have our obsessions; we all make mistakes. But my client is not insane. He gave Mrs. Kline everything she ever wanted, he kept things professional and it was all due to the paranoia of a celebrity that my client Steve Harrison was bullied, manipulated and forced to take drastic measures to defend himself from the public eye. He is not the villain in this story, he is a victim. And it is up to you, the jury, on who you wish to believe. The money of a celebrity, or the desperate plea of a victim corrupted by the music industry.”

My eyes narrowed at the obese man but I turned my head away as my Prosecutor Mr. Wilson stood up. The middle aged African American paced the courtroom as he said.

“Celebrities aren’t just about the money. It’s not as easy as we may think it is to get as big as they are. They go through struggles financially, mentally and sometimes physically. Now my client did have help but she had her fair share of struggles. As a young woman in an all-male industry they wanted to change her image, to make her follow the typical female artist crowd of showing too much skin, exploiting themselves. But the Rock Angel refused to let that be her image. And she kept that image strong, but there’s also another risk of being a woman in the spotlight. She’s more likely to attacks. Not because she asks for it because she doesn’t. Steve Harrison saw (Y/n) Kline not as she was trying to be but who she was. A famous person whom he believed belonged to him. He used his uncle’s position as her manager to get close to her, and meticulously planned to worm his way into her life. But when she refused to accept his dominance, he snapped. He stalked, harassed, kidnapped her daughter, and finally attempted to murder him. All because she said the one thing men don’t like a woman to say. No. No she wasn’t going to fall for him, No she wasn’t going to leave her adoring husband and kids for him, No she wouldn’t be his. And Steve Harrison took offense to that. And if he goes free, then what’s to stop other men like him going free that don’t know what the word ‘no’ means?”

Mr. Wilson came back and sat down beside me. I placed my hand on top of his and he gave me a soft smirk and nod.

“Alright, jurors the decision is all up to you. We’ll reconvene once the jury has reached their verdict.” Soon the 12 jurors left the courtroom as did the rest of us.

Jack, Roger, myself and my legal team were in the court cafeteria drinking some coffee as we waited for the verdict to come in. Jack and I sat close to each other while Roger sat across from us. He was currently reading some magazine meanwhile my stomach was tossing and turning.

“Six days and it all comes down to this. God I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“Don’t give up just yet baby. With the forged signature and the note they found at his apartment of his plan to shoot you, there’s no way he’s gonna walk scot-free.” He kissed the corner of my lips as we continued to wait.

20 long minutes later and Mr. Barnes’ cellphone rings. He reached in his coat pocket and picks it up.

“Yes?” he straightens himself up. “Yeah. Uh-huh. Alright we’ll be there Sam.” He snaps at us. “It’s in.” my heart stops as the three of us look at each other and quickly stand up.

Back at the courtroom, everyone is silent as the jurors come back into the room. The leading female juror, an Asian woman around her mid-40’s held the paper in her hands and handed it to the bailiff. He walked over to the judge who signed it before giving it back to him. The bailiff walked back to the Asian woman and Judge Mayweather asked.

“What say you?” I held onto Mr. Barnes’ and Mr. Wilson’s hands as tight as I could, my legs were shaking under the desk as I looked at the jury. She looked down at the paper and read out loud.

“In the matter of Steve Harrison vs. New York. We the jury find on the account of attempted 1st degree murder—guilty.” I let out a choked gasp. “On the count of aggravated stalking, we find the defendant……guilty.” At this point tears were pooling under my lashes. “On the count of kidnapping in the 1st degree. Guilty.”

Thank God! He was guilty on all charges! Some people in the crowd even cheered at Steve’s conviction. On his end, his face dropped entirely as he lowered his head in shame. His DA’s shook their heads in defeat, his lawyer patted his shoulders and whispered to him.

“Then by the state of New York, I hereby sentence Mr. Harrison to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Court is adjourned.” Judge Mayweather stated before banging his gavel once and left the podium.

I hugged Mr. Wilson and thanked him repeatedly. He embraced me back and congratulated me. I then turned to Mr. Barnes and embraced him and he gladly embraced me back. I turned towards Jack and Rog and they were elated with victory. I went over to Jack and the first thing we did was kiss.

He picked me up and spun me around, our lips still connected with each other’s as Steve was being taken away. We separated and I made sure to lock my eyes on him and he turned to look at me. I narrowed my eyes at him and lifted my chin up high, showing him that I wasn’t weak, that he lost and he’d never hurt or even see me or my family ever again.

Soon he disappeared from the room to be transported to the New York penitentiary for attempted murder, aggravated stalking and kidnapping in the 1st degree.

As we left the courtroom, my lawyer James Barnes said to the media that Steve Harrison had been found guilty.

“Mrs. Kline, anything you’d like to say?” before Mr. Barnes could say anything, I placed my hand on his arm and stood before the cameras.

“What happened to me, happens to everyone around the world. Most of the victims are women and some are men. They feel like they’re alone when this happens to them, but they don’t have to be. So this is my message to those who are victims of stalking, assault, or abuse. You are not alone. There are thousands of others like you out there, but if you don’t speak up, you’ll end up one of the millions of unlucky ones that end up dead. Which is why I’m starting up my own organization. ANGELS AGAINST STALKING. To help victims, like me and you, to get the proper care and help you need to protect yourselves. Even when the law can’t do that.”

I walked down the steps of the courthouse with reporters coming after me with follow up questions about my new organization and more on Steve.

But all I did was get into the car and made a phone call to a special friend. The phone rang a couple times before he answered.

‘Hello?’

“Miami. I need a favor.”

In the next couple of month thanks to some investors that Miami knew, I had set up ANGELS AGAINST STALKING in 3 locations. One in West London, one in New York, and the other in Tokyo, Japan. The media was spreading the news of my organization far and wide and I personally saw to it that the Officers who would work there were not only a part of the city’s police, but took the stalking cases seriously.

They were solemnly swore that if a person calls in regularly for someone stalking or threatening them, they need to take it seriously. If verbal threats were told or they violated a restraining order, they were to take immediate action and give the victim protection.

A profiler was also assigned to ensure that no one took advantage of this system so that no money needed to be wasted on a false story and an innocent person didn’t have to suffer.

People who had been stalked in the past were brought in and coached in how to become therapists because no one but a victim would understand what a true victim is going through.

Soon enough by the start of the summer 1994, ANGELS AGAINST STALKING was up and running and phone calls were coming in and donations from any of my concerts would go to this organization to help keep it running and maybe one day the laws would change against stalking and law enforcement would take it seriously instead of brushing it off or accepting bribes from the assailants family.

If there’s anything that this hellish experience has taught me, it’s that you can’t let your attacker, abuser or stalker show them you have lost the battle. You need to keep fighting, by any means necessary. Even if law enforcement can’t protect you, find a way to protect yourself.

Surround yourself with loved ones, take self-defense classes, keep those you love closest to you. Then when the time comes, document what happens and finally show everyone in law enforcement that you were right.

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apexqueenie · 4 years

Text

I’ve Missed You (Shoto Todoroki x Reader)

Warnings: Swearing, A N G S T

Hey everyone! I’m super excited to post the first request I’ve gotten by @bubblegum-bnha

Thank you all so much for reading!! Enjoy da spiciness❤️

“Sh-shoto,” you breathed, “again…?”

Shoto brushed his lips down your bare stomach, nuzzling against your soft skin. “Mmmmm why not?”

“Shooooooo-” you said as you playfully lifted his face off you. You looked into his dual colored eyes and smiled, happy to have such a wonderful boyfriend. “I have a patrol tomorrow and...I’d like to be able to walk you know…”

Shoto sighs in defeat and lifts his naked body off yours, shifting to cage your head in between his elbows. “You know I love you, right?” he mumbled, slowly lowering his face to yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep and slow kiss, a complete 180 from the rough and passionate one you were having ten minutes before. He pulled away, leaving you nearly breathless. “I love you so much more Sho” you smiled.

He smiled back and sat up, allowing you to get off the bed and retrieve your clothes scattered around the room. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night?” he asked.

You shook your head no. “don’t wanna get caught by your old man again, remember last time?”

Shoto grimaced, remembering the ugly encounter the three of you experienced just a month ago. Endeavor caught you both (fully clothed) on the front porch, Shoto planting kisses along your jawline. Furious that his son was ‘tarnishing the Todoroki household’, Endeavor forbade Shoto from leaving the house for an entire week. He would hate to imagine what would happen if he caught the both of you naked. Sho still lived with his father just like his big siblings Fuyumi and Natsuo. As much as he wanted to move out into a place of his own, he was only 18. His pride wouldn’t allow himself to borrow his father’s money for a house. Instead, he bides his time, saving whatever he can from his hero career.

“Good point” he said, getting up to put on his own clothes. He watched as you slid your arms through your jacket and opened the window. You turned around, giving your lover one last ‘I love you’ before sneaking down to the roof of the second story floor. Shortly after he saw your figure disappear into the darkness of the night, he closed his window and sighed, walking to his door to grab a glass of water downstairs. That plan went to shit as soon as he opened the door.

Endeavor’s large stature filled the doorframe, radiating a mixture of anger and disappointment. “Shoto,” he said, dangerously calm.

“Father,” he replied, unfazed, mirroring the same glare he was given.

Endeavor sighed, bringing a hand up to his face to pinch the top of his nose, “I thought I told you to stop seeing that girl?”

Uneasiness hit Shoto’sentire body. Did his father find out about the two of you sleeping with each other? Relax, Shoto thought to himself, he didn’t say anything about that yet.

“I had someone install cameras around the property for...safety reasons…” Endeavor said, but Shoto could see right through the lies.

Shoto’s face scowled up at his father, “And?”

“And, I saw her come out of your window, Shoto. I understand you two do a lot of hero work together, but I think she needs to-”

“She has a name” he hissed.

“She-”

“(y/n)”

Endeavor sighed, getting more and more frustrated with his son’s behavior. Ever since the fire hero became number one in Japan, he’s tried to become a better father towards his kids, talking to them, spending time with them, giving them the attention they should’ve had a long time ago. Still, he hasn’t forgotten about making his youngest son the greatest hero in Japan. The Todoroki family has high expectations from the public, and with the elder siblings having no interest in hero work, Shoto was the only one to continue the legacy.

“Fine, I think that (y/n) needs to spend less time with you” Endeavor grunted, crossing his arms.

“Less time with me?” Shoto scoffed, “Enji, you don’t control me-”

Enji, not father, Shoto has struck a nerve. Endeavor’s face erupted in flames in a clear display of dominance as he glared down at his son. “Do you even hear yourself Shoto? You’re lacking at your job again, almost letting a civilian die the other day! Why? Because you failed to take your eyes off her when there were people in danger, (y/n)’s a hero for Pete’s sake! She can save herself when a civilian can’t!”

“I-“ For once, Shoto showed his father genuine emotion. His father was right, he did do everything that was just said. The guilt of that mistake crawling back to the pit of his stomach. “I thought the place was clear of civilians-” he started.

Lie. He knew there was one left, and he assumed the lady would run, but she didn’t. She was frozen with fear.

“And now you make pitiful excuses for your behavior?” Endeavor narrowed his eyebrows.

Shoto looked down, unable to say anything else in return. He remembered encasing the woman in ice before the debri could fall on her, but he could only do that because you were there, frantically pointing to the frightened lady before dodging one of the villain’s attacks. If you hadn’t done that, well...he didn’t even want to think about that. There was no excuse for his behavior. He turned his back on the helpless to focus on you, and that itself might as well be a crime.

His father sighed and extinguished the flames, placing a hand on Shoto's shoulders, “I understand that you love her Shoto, but this isn’t the first time this has happened. That’s four times this year so far, I can’t let you get distracted so easily when you’re putting civilian lives in danger-” Endeavor paused, bracing himself for what’s to come. He didn’t want it to come to this, but he had been pushed too far, so he said it.

One simple sentence, just one, was all it took to throw his son off track completely.

Shoto slapped his father’s hand away and stepped back in and anger. “What?!?”

“Shoto-“ Endeavor started

Shoto’s left side was the one erupting in flames now. “No, no I will not…I-“

“Shoto, it has already been arranged. Your mother has agreed to the arrangement as well.”

“M-mom?” Shoto stuttered, his parents actually agreed on something? The flames died down as he bowed his head, his anger dissolving into guilt. If his mom, his number one fan, had taken notice, then he really is screwing up.

“Yes, Rei is...worried about you Shoto, everyone is”

Silence.

“Of course, she supports this relationship anyhow, foolish if you ask me-”

Shoto couldn’t hear the words, it was all gibberish. He tried to get upset at his father, like he used to be, but he couldn’t. He knew it was his fault. Ever since he met you on the field, your quirk nearly outdoing his, he couldn’t help but awkwardly ask for your name, asking for a date, asking for your love. He was head over heels with you, the fire from your relationship burning brighter than what could ever be created through his left hand. But it was burning too bright, blinding him from seeing reality, preventing him from doing his part to protect the lives of others.

Endeavor looked at his miserable son, feeling slightly guilty from bringing this upon him so quickly. “You leave in 2 weeks son, I’m sorry but, this is what we think is best for you” he said before walking away to give Shoto space.

Shoto sat at the edge of his bed wondering what the hell he was gonna do now.

***

In the blink of an eye, two weeks have passed, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell you. You were always smiling with him. He'd rather see that for two weeks than dampen your personality with his own problems...but that backfired on him once he realized he had to tell you at some point, and that had to be soon. This was his last day with you, and you both chose to walk in the park at night, enjoying the emptiness and the cool spring breeze.

“Shoooooooo” you whined leaning up against your boyfriend’s arm “talk to me, you’ve been so moody today”. Your beautiful eyes looked up at his tired ones, pleading for an explanation. He stared back with sadness, striking anxiety in you, but you waited, giving him time to collect his thoughts. You thought you were prepared for anything...anything but this.

“I’m leaving”

Your eyes widened, “what? Waiiit, you’re just joking aren’t ya-“ but you looked at him, and he was dead serious.

“You- you’re done with me?”

The mood shifted quickly, the cool air surrounding you both turning ice cold.

“What? No, I’m leaving for America in about two hours. I love you more than anything (y/n), and I would never leave you”

You looked down at your feet coming to a stop in the middle of the pavement. That piece of news was just as bad as the last. Emotions flooded your system as you tried to process his words. America? That’s so far away.

“...For how long?” You asked quietly.

“Four years” he sighed.

Four years

Your stomach dropped as you struggled to absorb that information. “Sho, why-?” You started, biting back the tears that threatened to fall.

Shoto pursed his lips, unable to look you straight in the eyes, “My family said I need to focus on being a hero, that our relationship- that I was putting lives at risk-“

“And you agree with them?”

“Yes (y/n), I-“

“And you hadn’t bothered telling me you were leaving Shoto? You kept this from me until the last fucking minute when we said we wouldn’t hide anything from each other???”

“I didn’t have a choice (y/n)-”

“Of course you have a choice! What? Now that your daddy’s the number one hero, you have to-”

“My mother said it too (y/n)!” Shoto yelled. He never yelled at you, and seeing you flinch like that broke his heart. He reached out to you, your figure slowly backing away from him. “I’m sorry baby, I-“

“No” you interrupted, tears falling freely from your eyes “no, I understand, if...if your mom wants you to go then, then you should go”

Shoto tried to grab your arm, but you were fast, and quickly ran aimlessly through the park, ignoring your boyfriend’s cries for you to come back. You ran for what seemed like hours until you realized you were at the city limits. Away from the pain, away from the sounds of the city, away from Shoto- but the guilt was there, gnawing at your chest like a parasite.

You should have stayed.

You should have told him you love him.

You should have said goodbye.

But you didn’t, you let your emotions take control, you let your anger get the best of you and now you’re paying the consequences.

You placed a hand on your stomach, wincing at the physical pain that was catching up to you now that your adrenaline was gone

You should have told him you were pregnant.

It was too late now. Still, you ran back to his house, ringing the doorbell impatiently for someone to answer the door. Fuyumi answered, hair messy from just waking up, glasses sitting crooked at the bridge of her nose.

“(y/n)?” she blinked.

You grabbed her shoulders, shaking her wide awake. “Where’s Sho?”

“You uh, you just missed him, he was looking around for you for as long as he could but dad dragged him off to the airport” she said, clutching on to her glasses.

Shit

You fucked up big time, now he’s gone.

“Dammit” you cursed, sinking to the floor. “Fuyumi… I didn’t get to say goodbye” You wiped the tears from your face, but they just kept falling, one after the other. “He told me but...but I freaked out and ran away and imjustsuchafuckindumbassandijustwantshototocomeback-“

“Hush hush, let’s get you inside first before you catch a cold” she said, urging you inside. She made you tea and listened to you ramble on about Sho for nearly an hour. You really loved that idiot. After you calmed down a bit, she grabbed a hoodie from his room, handing it to you neatly folded. “Here, he’d want you to have this”.

You took the hoodie, holding it close as you breathed in his scent. “Thanks…” you sniffed. “I’ll get out of your hair now Fuyumi, thanks for listening to me”

“Are you sure you don’t need a cab home?” she asked, grabbing her phone to call a Todoroki family chauffeur.

You waved your hands “ah no thanks, its ok, my house isn’t that far from here anyways.”. You got up and hurried to open the door before she could insist any further.

“(y/n)?” she said. You stopped, the door halfway open. “You’re welcome to stop by anytime for tea”.

You smiled and whispered a thank you before embracing the cool night air again and starting the walk home.

***

For four years, you kept your child secret, careful not to make it known to the public that you were raising Shoto’s child without him. After a year of “hero vacation” you resumed your hero work as normal, re-designing your costume to cover your stretch marks. The public didn’t need to know the drama. The last thing you needed were headlines all over the news that Shoto had ditched you and… for him to read those headlines in America and forget about his studies to rush back to Japan.

Your beautiful baby boy was born with bright turquoise eyes, with the right one later reflecting the same color as yours. His soft hair bright red, definitely a Todoroki family marking. The physical similarities to Shoto ended there, the rest were attributed by none other than you.

You watched in adoration as your son sat on the floor, playing around with the action figures he received from “uncle” Deku and “auntie” Ochako, the only two who knew your secret. They were a godsend, regularly helping out with babysitting when it was your turn to go on patrols. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d make it this far if it weren’t for them.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t realized that your son had put his toys down and was staring right at you.

“Mama,” he said, “do I really have a dad?”.

Your eyes widened, astonished at how perceptive he is...just like Sho. No matter how many times you tell him the man in the pictures is his father, it doesn’t change the fact that he isn’t here in the flesh.

You slid off the couch to join him on the floor, pulling him gently onto your lap. “Baby, of course you have a dad-“

“-where is he?” He interrupted, looking at you with wide eyes.

“He’s….he’s not here right now baby, but you’ll see him some day” you replied, giving him a soft squeeze.

He pouted, “you always say that mama”

“I know, but it's true. You wanna see videos of him again?”

His eyes lit up. He loved watching old YouTube videos of Shoto’s hero work, amazed at how he used both fire and ice to take down the villains threatening the city. He excitedly made his way to the computer, both his Deku and Uravity figures forgotten on the floor, to watch his favorite hero in action.

Dinner was approaching in about an hour or so and you needed to quickly get some grocery shopping done. Just fifteen minutes or so, he’ll be fine right?

“Alright, I’m going to go get food ok? You sit here, understand? No opening the door for anyone except me, ok?”

“And papa?” He asked, eyes still glued to the screen.

You looked back at him, the door already open “sure honey” you smiled, and closed the door, locking it from the outside.

Your shopping trip took a little longer than expected due to the long lines, and overall, it took you about half an hour to get back home. You were planning to make cold soba, your son’s favorite. Plain and simple, yet it put a smile on his face every time. You hummed to yourself as you unlocked the door to your house, no longer hearing the blaring sound of combat from the computer. Your son must be tuckered out, possibly asleep on the desk.

You opened the door, preoccupied with your thoughts and the groceries to notice your son wasn’t passed out like you thought. “I’m home” you said, slipping off your shoes.

“Mama! Look!”

You looked up, expecting to see a giant mess of toys instead when you saw-

“Sho…?” You breathed, unable to believe your eyes.

There he was, dressed in just a plain grey sweater, jeans, and the same old haircut he had four years ago. Despite all this, he was noticeably brawnier, his muscles becoming more defined underneath his clothing. You didn’t think it was possible for him to get even more handsome than he already was, but here he is. He looked up at you with the same look of awe as he sat next to your son, cross legged on the floor with the Deku action figure in one hand.

“It’s papa!” Your son exclaimed excitedly, running over to give your leg a hug.

You reached your hand down to give your son a pat on the back, not taking your eyes from his dad. “Sho, how in the world-“

“Uh, sorry for intruding but, Midoriya sent me your address earlier. Apparently, I’ve been sending letters to an empty mailbox for quite some time now” he smiled sheepishly, pulling out a stack of envelopes from his book bag next to him. “Are you...wearing my hoodie?”

So he has tried to contact you. You thought all along that he’d forgotten about you, that he found some beautiful American girl while he was out there. Relief washed over you until another question nagged at the back of your mind. He had a phone didn’t he? You opened your mouth to say something, but it was like he could read your thoughts.

“Sorry I wasn’t able to call you, they didn’t allow phones in this school. After all...” he shrugged, “my father obviously had to pick the most prestigious hero program in America”.

Your son’s eyes lit up, “America? Papa, I wanna show you a thing!” he said before scrambling off to his room.

“Sho…” you said as soon as your son left, your voice cracking a bit with tension. You dropped the bag you were carrying and took small wobbly steps towards your lover. He sat up on his knees, arms wide open to catch you as you lunged forward, wrapping him up in a giant bear hug. You couldn’t hold back any longer and let your tears flow, quietly sobbing Shoto’s name in the crook of his neck. He rubbed slow circles on your back as he gripped you just as tightly as you held on to him. He pulled away moments afterwards to catch your lips in a sweet kiss, releasing all the pent up feelings you thought you could lock away deep inside your memories.

“I missed you so fucking much” he said. He rarely ever swore.

“Shhhhh, don’t teach our son how to swear this early” you smiled, pressing a finger to hush his lips.

Shoto sat back on his hunches, pulling you into a cradle with his strong arms, “so he really is ours huh” he said, bringing his hands down to your waist, “...I’m sorry I wasn’t here for him (y/n)...”. He looked straight into your eyes, reaching to squeeze your hand “I promise, I’m going to be here for him from now on, I’m not leaving you ever again.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, as if he was afraid you were going to disappear. All those tears, all those years of anger and frustration, they all melted away as you two sat there, lost in your own world.

“Papa?” your son called. You smiled and got off Shoto’s lap, letting ‘papa’ stand up.

“We’re getting married next week, just so you know” he whispered in your ear before placing a kiss on your forehead and heading to see what his little rascal had to show him.

“About time” you mumbled with a grin.

#shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #mha angst #mha fluff #bnha todoroki #anime x reader

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everything-withered · 4 years

Text

So, I remember reading about a headcanon of Tony having asthma after the arc reactor and uh. Hi, hello, this is how that went.

This is post-CW because it's going into "Who's Been Lovin' You Good?" once it's done. And also. Like. I'm winteriron trash.

Barnes doesn't like being touched.

It's hardly a surprising revelation given his history, but Rogers isn't as bright as he likes to think he is.

And while Tony's aware that Rogers would know his best friend better, who Barnes is now isn't the guy Rogers remembers if the reports that proceeded their arrival from the palace are any indication.

Not that Rogers cares.

The captain doesn't seem all that interested in anything that doesn't suit his agenda nowadays, and Barnes is definitely not playing ball with his less than "good old boy" routine.

Barnes' decision to exclusively speak Russian definitely does not help.

And while Tony's waiting with baited breath for Barnes to rip Rogers' arm off and take it for his own, Tony loathes the thought of the paperwork he'd have to do.

For the sake of his sanity, he doesn't get involved. Can't. Not when Tony's horse in the race involves Barnes winning.

Which should say something about the state of his life that Tony wants Barnes -- Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, the Fist of Hydra, the murderer of his parents -- to win against the symbol of American patriotism and one of Howard Stark's greatest inventions. But life after Afghanistan and a Siberian bunker changes one's perspective if you let it, and Tony really hadn't had the option not to.

Nonetheless, catching the minute little twitches in Barnes' expression: the tick at his jaw, the slight furrow in his brow, the subtle flex of the arm that Rogers is grabbing is giving Tony heart palpitations.

Because.

He just got the walls painted in here. The carpet is. It's new.

And their wing of the Compound isn't exactly homey, but it's state of the art, and has people situated a floor below them right now -- civilian and official personnel both -- minding their business, completely unaware that someone could be thrown through the floor at any second.

Tony designed the building himself, but it might not hold against a battle royale of Super Soldier proportions. At least not from the inside. He's only really tested the Compound's durability on the outside anyway with the confidence that enemies wouldn't be able to infiltrate it without triggering other security measures which is clearly a blind spot he should've accounted for but didn't because he hoped.

He hoped.

For any other circumstance, the Compound has panic protocols, safe zones, sectional lockdowns with overrides and manual switches for all of it in case -- in case. There are sections of the Compound that can take Brucie with a big green sized tantrum, but it would've been a waste of resources to Hulk-proof the entire property when Bruce and his alter ego were pretty simpatico these days which was fine. It was. Because Super Soldiers were a different kettle of fish altogether and. Tony hadn't thought he'd ever have to worry about the Rogues being back.

He'd hoped he never had to deal with them again.

But well.

Hope's never not taken something from him every time he had it. It's only fair he'd have to sacrifice his peace of mind and personal sense of safety for the greater good. It's the least Tony can do for all the sins he's committed.

So what if he can't breathe easy anymore? It's not like struggling to breathe has ever been new to him.

If it wasn't his anxiety attacks in MIT, or the waterboarding in that cave, or the arc reactor digging into his chest cavity, or the shield coming down-down-down it was, it was.

His stuttering exhale comes out in a wheeze, the muscles around his ribs tightening in a squeeze because the human body is incredibly intelligent but also incredibly stupid. Not that Tony could blame an automatic biological response. How was his body supposed to know that his lungs are garbage at being lungs?

Fuck.

Why did he choose today to forget to carry his inhaler?

Tony gets the sense that the Rogues, at least, are getting out of his way as he stumbles out of the room in his panic.

He knows the first step to treating an asthma attack is to stay calm but. The step that would make him feel calm is to get away from the trigger: the reality of the Rogues' return, the bullshit of his own life. But Tony will settle for getting away right now.

Right now is good enough.

But Tony's always been a spoilt brat, and good enough isn't actually good enough because now he's stressed about the fact that he doesn't have his inhaler. And fuck, he hopes that if he passes out in the elevator that it isn't Pep or any of the kids that come across him.

And that thought makes him stress out more because, god, the kids --

A metal hand grabs his arm, and Tony's surprised inhale clashes against his teeth, makes his chest tighten like his lungs are being clenched in a fist.

Tony can't tell anymore if he's having a panic attack or an asthma attack.

Tugged down to sitting in the hallway lobby just in front of the elevator, Barnes' arms looped beneath his armpits so his palms are hooked over Tony's shoulders, Barnes gently eases Tony's body into a slight arch so the breadth of his chest is stretched out, so his lungs don't feel so claustrophobic.

Tony's body has never quite recovered from the first blast to the chest, and everything after hasn't helped. His lung capacity is pathetic. He's almost use to occasionally losing feeling in his toes.

With Barnes' chest flush against Tony's back, he can feel Barnes' exaggerated breathes, a silent prompting to take deeper inhales.

Tony doesn't struggle against him.

Even if he wanted to fight Barnes off, he couldn't do it emotionally comprised in the Iron Man suit, so Tony's got no chance in hell in a regular Tom Ford with his lungs being useless.

At the very least, deoxygenated or not, he can still do the basic math to this problem.

Besides, if Barnes wanted to end him right here, he could've. Even Friday wouldn't be able to do anything to stop Barnes from snapping his neck right now.

But Barnes. Isn't doing that.

Sitting behind Tony as he is, his kneecaps pressing into his lower back, Barnes' arms are sure and secure around his arms so that his shoulders and Tony's are pressed against each other; he is a warm, solid presence, angling and supporting his body posture to stay open to put less pressure on Tony's chest. The gentle, but forceful push of Barnes' breathing against Tony's back mimicking the action to empty and fill his lungs for Tony to repeat again and again and again.

Eventually, once his chest doesn't hurt as much, and his breath doesn't whistle as often, Barnes murmurs against his ear, "I've got you."

Tony startles, his breath hitching as his fists curl reflexively on either side of him. His voice is rough from the strain, and Tony means it, from the very bottom of his heart when he mutters, "What the fuck."

#winteriron #prompt #asthma

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fandomlurker · 4 years

Text

A Ponderous Rewatch: In the Garden of Mindy

So today’s episode is neither a regular Pinky and the Brain skit nor a mere cameo. Today’s episode is…different, as the opening that spoofs the 1980s CBS Special Presentations pops up.

Perhaps the Warner Siblings can shed some light on this?

“Hi. We’re the Warner Brothers.”

“…And the Warner Sister.”

Look at these smug little gremlin children. You just know something is wrong when they make faces like that.

“And we’d like to invite you and all the members of your household…”

“…to gather around the TV set and join us now…”

“…for a very special episode of Animaniacs.”

“And what’s so special about it?”

“I’m not wearing any pants!”

…Wakko, you’re never wearing any pants.

Okay, okay, so we have the usual opening song and then the real explanation comes along.

“Welcome to the Animaniacs test kitchen!”

Oh no…

“We’re cookin’ up something really different for today’s show. All we need are our ingredients!”

Oh, kids, no!

“A dash of Pinky and the Brain!~”

WARNERS, PLEASE!!!

Man, the mice look so worn out. Did they…try to escape the Warner Siblings to avoid this whole thing? Like, that’s the only reason I can think of for why they look so tired as opposed to surprised or nonchalant like the other characters: They’re exhausted from attempting to run away. And for Pinky to be tired out is very, very telling.

“A cup of Slappy Squirrel!~”

Slappy is resigned to her fate.

“A tablespoon of Goodfeathers~”

I’m sorry about the smear face I managed to capture on you, Yakko.

I love how Bobby’s smirking a little, Squit is grinning like usual, and Pesto is looking at both of them like “If this is in any way you guys’ fault, I swear to the Godpigeon you’re all in for a beaking.”

“Add Rita, Runt, then swirl!~”

Meanwhile, Rita and Runt are just baffled.

“We add a pinch of Hippos~”

Why do you only have one of them?

…Wait, this is a fat joke, isn’t it? Goddammit.

“Buttons and Mindy, too~”

“Now top it off with Skippy Squirrel~”

Buttons and Flavio right now:

“What’s that make?

Animaniacs Stew!~”

Well, okay. We can at least call everything that results from this by a catchy name: The Stew AU.

“What’d we come up with?”

“Just watch…”

Oooh, children. You’ve committed a culinary evil this day.

“They’re Mindy and the Brain~”

So we’re mixing up the Animaniacs cast of characters and shows today.

[sighs]

Okay, so I guess it’s time to explain the basic premise of the Buttons and Mindy shorts and why they’re not fondly remembered, huh?

Well, the whole thing with Buttons and Mindy is a variation on the Baby’s Day Out type of scenario. Buttons the family dog is put in charge of guarding and babysitting Mindy, a friendly and curious toddler, by the mother of the family. The mother leaves to go…somewhere, and Mindy inevitably wanders off to chase after a bug or something new and interesting that she sees. Buttons goes after her because he loves Mindy very much and wants to keep her safe and be a Good Dog, and Mindy naively and unknowingly wanders into increasingly dangerous and life-threatening situations that Buttons must save her from, all the while getting beaten and bruised by the situations that were threatening Mindy.

The shorts usually end with Mindy and Buttons somehow ending up back home with Buttons ragged from the abuse he’s endured and Mindy perfectly fine except for maybe not being tied to her tether or in her playpen or whatever. The mother comes home and sees that Mindy is not quite where she was when she left her, or the surrounding area is a mess or something equally not that terrible, and berates Buttons for not taking better care of Mindy and calling him a Bad Dog.

And that’s where it ends.

If you’re not busting a gut at that description, congratulations, you are just like 90% of the Animaniacs audience.

The reason these shorts just don’t work for a lot of viewers, myself included, is that this kind of scenario is only funny once or maybe twice. After that, you just end up feeling bad for Buttons and don’t want to see a cartoon dog go through a conga line of pain that he doesn’t deserve. Not to mention that the whole premise can be boiled down to “Severe Parental Anxiety: The Show”, and not a lot of people like feeling that way for ten minutes or so per cartoon episode.

The reason the scenario works for a comedy movie like the aforementioned Baby’s Day Out is because the people going after the baby in that movie are kidnappers and obviously terrible people who only look out for the child’s safety so they can hold the kid for ransom, thus the pain they go through while the child remains okay is funny. Trying to do the same thing with an innocent family dog that just wants to keep a toddler safe? Not very funny at all. It’s just sad.

“Mindy and the Brain!

One’s a small child,

And the other’s…the Brain!~”

So now we have a Buttons and Mindy episode with Brain filling in for Buttons. Already this is…not great, but I suppose it’s the only suitable fit for Brain because he’d have it so, so much worse if he was put in the cast of the other skits.

I like the Goodfeathers skits, but I feel like Bobby and Pesto wouldn’t put up with his world domination shtick and end up berating him and/or beating him up. And Squit? Squit’s a do-gooder but he definitely doesn’t have Pinky’s level of passive subordination. Brain would be completely out of his league.

This isn’t to say that I wouldn’t want to see Brain interacting with the Goodfeathers, because holy shit yes PLEASE I would love the chaos that would ensue. I just think Brain wouldn’t last on his own with them.

Brain would, again, be completely out of his element in a Slappy Squirrel cartoon. Slappy’s skits hinge on her being a senior Looney Toon-type who knows just how to handle absurd scenarios and villains. Brain gets lost and confused incredibly quickly when unexpected situations pop up. He’s not a quick thinker in general. He’d be toast.

Being inserted into a Rita and Runt skit… Well, Rita wouldn’t be a good partner for obvious reasons that will become even more apparent later. And Runt is kind and a bit dimwitted but he’s no Pinky. Runt isn’t the type to be interested in helping to take over the world. He just doesn’t have the skills to do…almost anything that Pinky can, and he doesn’t have the drive to do it. Runt just wants a home and that’s it.

As for the Hip Hippos, there’s a skit of theirs down the line where Brain is involved and it honestly turns out about as well as it does for Brain in this episode.

So, let’s see how Brain fares in a world without Pinky.

“He uses his lobe

To overthrow the globe!~”

Also, we’re again treated to TMS doing the animation, which certainly elevates this skit quite a bit.

“She’s whimsy,”

I love how Brain goes from shock and surprise to absolute petulant grumpiness after seeing that Mindy put him in a jar.

“They’re Mindy and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain!~”

If only this was the extent of your humiliation today, Brain. If only.

[Various raspberry and baby babbling noises]

“Hi, Lady!”

“It’s ‘Mom’.”

This is honestly the only joke I ever liked in the Buttons and Mindy shorts. Apparently it was based on something a real child of a friend of an Animaniacs creator would say to their mom.

“Now listen, honey, mommy has to go to a better parenting conference. You stay right here and play.”

A “better parenting conference”, huh? Lady, you need it more than you know. For many reasons.

“Okay Lady, I love you, buh-bye!~”

Is anyone else getting a horrid sense of foreboding and dread from Mindy’s doll looking like a simplified Elmyra?

“Now, Brain, you keep an eye on Mindy while I’m gone.”

Nothing like leaving a mouse in a cage in charge of a toddler, huh?

Gosh, brain’s so adorably chubby in this episode. Look at him. Look at that grumpy face and that pudgy belly.

“I always get an attitude from him…”

Yeah, he’s… Yeah. That’s Brain, all right.

“At last, that meddler is gone! I’m free to begin my plan to…conquer the world!”

I love that back shot of Brain so much. It’s perfect. That’s the perfect Brain proportions and I can only dream of being able to draw cartoons that well.

“First, I’ll use telepathy to open the cage.”

C-come again? “Telepathy”?

Brain, honey… You’re looking for the word “telekinesis”. You should know this.

Also I guess Pinky’s not the only one with telekinesis capabilities.

The fact that he cocks his head to the side when he turns the trowel with his mind is a nice little detail.

“Now to get Mindy…”

That strut, though. He’s a mouse on a mission.

“Come, Mindy, it’s time for us to conquer the world!”

...Okay, I’ll say it: Mindy is very cute in this shot.

Meanwhile Brain...looks like a gremlin.

“Why?”

“By right of superior intelligence, I am best suited to guide the destiny of this planet.”

Careful, Brain. You’re getting dangerously close to--

“Why?”

“My empirical powers give me the mandate.”

BRAIN, this is starting to sound like eugenics...!

“Why?”

“Because it’s something I want to do!”

Oh lord, without Pinky to reel him in and remind him of all the real reasons he wants to conquer the world, the Brain of this universe has devolved into a mouse driven purely by ego and spite.

His little tantrum is adorable, though.

“Okay, I love you! [MWAH~]”

“I am uncomfortable with that.”

The Brain be like: What is this...”affection” you speak of? This is new and scary to me.

“Now listen closely, Mindy: Using the gardener’s weed killer, manure, and a little zoysia grass,--”

Zoysia grass is an actual thing, by the way. It’s the kind of grass you see mostly on golf courses.

“--I will construct a powerful stink bomb!”

GAH! No need to punctuate the term by making your eyes bulge, Brain.

“We’ll use the lawn mower engine to construct a rocket and fill it with the gas. When precisely launched, the prevailing winds will spread the gas across the world’s capitals.”

As impressed as I would be with you being able to make a rocket from a lawn mower engine, Brain, it’s kind of overshadowed by you doing that thing again where you make a drawing animate like a video. Another strange power to add to the list, I suppose.

“As the stench drives the government officials out into the streets, we will rush in and seize power!”

Good lord, Brain, calm down. You’re gonna break that pointing stick!

“You understand?”

“Mousey!~”

You’re...not very good with kids, are you, Brain?

“Pretty Brain mousey…!”

“I am mortified.”

I don’t see why, you look positively precious.

“Little mousey big head!”

Mindy, dear, I too wish to squish this cute little megalomaniacal mouse sometimes but you’re doing it way too hard.

“Put me down, Mindy, or I shall have to hurt you.”

“Okay, I love you, buh-bye!”

The Brain: [is a mouse with genius intellect and gadgetry know-how with the drive to take over the world]

Also The Brain: [gets dunked on by a toddler merely dropping him on the ground]

“I sense I’ve completed the first step of my plan: Finding manure.”

That’s one way to look on the bright side, I suppose.

Sweetie, you’ve got something stuck on your head still.

“Pungent aroma, if I do say so.”

“Now to construct the rocket…”

...Why would you take the mask off now? You’re still right over top of the stink bomb! Brain, have the fumes messed with your thinking abilities already?

I do like the animation of him tearing the mask off, though.

“Buggy! Buggy!”

“All right, Mindy: Bring me the mower!”

If you ever need a pose that sums up Brain perfectly, it’s this one right here. This is him distilled down to his purest form. God bless TMS for this.

“Soon the world will be mine!”

Uh, yeah, about that...

“Woooow! Buggy go fast! Wheeeeeee!~”

“Whoooooaaaa! GAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

“Beh, peh, EUGH!”

Brain’s plans go to shit really fast without Pinky around. Sometimes quite literally, it seems.

“Buggy go ‘round!”

[Running in the 90s starts playing]

“Ahahaha!”

Don’t worry folks. As always, Mindy is okay. Brain, however...

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Something I missed on my first viewing of this episode: the grass around Brain’s feet as he walks around covered in his stinkbomb juice dies near instantly.

“Wahahahaha! Silly Brain!”

“This is most unexpected.”

Is it, though? Is it really, Brain?

So, uh, something that caught me off-guard while watching this for the first time is what happens next.

Pinky and the Brain is, obviously, a Warner Brothers cartoon with some Looney Toon sensibilities. Despite that, though, while there is the occasional being-flattened-like-a-pancake or being-covered-in-soot-after-an-explosion types of cartoon slapstick and such, it doesn’t really go much beyond that when it comes to cartoonish injuries and such. The worst I’d ever seen it get in this show is at the end of Opportunity Knox when Pinky and Brain are all wrapped up in bandages and some of their fur has been scraped off raw. Even then, that was surprisingly “graphic” for the show.

But this upcoming bit?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!! D8

--was my reaction the first time. It’s not bloody and gory, but seeing Brain being sliced into sections by a lawn mower is just...startling, to put it mildly. To my knowledge (and well, it has been decades since I regularly watched the show, so take this with a grain of salt), the Pinky and the Brain Animaniacs sketches and the spinoff never does something this Looney Toons to them.

And what really gets me is that he’s not just cut into sections with his eyeballs popped out, it’s that there’s an obvious hole in the middle of each section??? For some reason??? What that to imply space for his skeleton?!? A creamy center filling?!?

TMS, you could have just animated him in sections like some kind of mousey marshmallow, why did you include the holes?!?

[Press F to Pay Respects]

“Bleh! Brain smell like poo-poo!”

“I must re-think my present career…”

Honestly, Brain? Without Pinky to help you, I’d say it’s a good idea to just try and escape this family first and then maybe try on your own to take over the world. You might have a slightly better chance then.

“What’s that horrible smell?! Is that you, Brain?! Have you been allowing Mindy to feed you old cheese again? Bad mouse! Bad, bad mouse!”

Wait, “again”?

“…I hate being chided.”

You know, it’s interesting how he says that about this human woman chiding him, but in the regular Pinky and the Brain universe Pinky will sometimes chide Brain for doing something dubiously immoral, and while he may hate it there too...he more often than not backs down and admits to his faults when it’s Pinky doing it.

“But she’ll be gone soon, then I can begin my plans for tomorrow: Another plot to take over the world!”

“But first: A bath.”

I mean, yeah. Priorities.

“He’s stinky,

They’re Mindy and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain!~”

Well, I never thought we’d get a Brain bath scene until the comics but here we are.

I wonder if Pinky would find it equally as appealing to watch as that one...

Okay, that sure was...an episode. Let’s see how the other half of the equation is doing.

“They’re Pinky and the Cat!

Yes, Pinky and the Cat!

Her name is Rita,~”

Oh NO...

I love the contrast of these two shots. It’s as if Pinky’s self preservation instinct kicks in only long enough for him to be vaguely worried about having a cat in his cage...and his lack of attention span overtakes it and he does whatever the hell this is.

“He’s a lab rat!~”

“A mouse!”

At least he still has it in him to be offended enough to correct the Warners about his actual species.

“They live inside a cage,

Making less than minimum wage.~

Aww...

Oh, Pinky, sweetie... I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what’s about to happen.

“It’s dinky,~”

“They’re Pinky and the Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat!~”

Pinky making faces in the reflection of the water bowl is another bit of animation that’s used in the spin-off’s opening theme. It’s kind of weird to pull something from this particular segment, but whatever.

“What do you want to do tonight, Rita?”

It was so difficult to get a shot of Pinky’s cute little coy stance here, but it was worth it. Look at this cute, naive little mouse. He just wants to be friends, Rita!

“I dunno, eat you for supper?”

[GULP]

[Press F to Pay Respects...Again]

“So far, this is my favourite episode.”

“Narf! Oh, roomy accommodations, Rita!”

Don’t worry, folks, he’s fine! Yup. He’s okay somehow.

Lord, I hope this didn’t awaken a vore fetish in anyone.

“She ate the rat

‘cause Rita is a cat, cat, cat, cat, cat!~”

So yeah, that’s the end of this little experiment by the Warner Siblings. Well, the end of what’s relevant to this blog series, anyway. There’s also a skit with Pesto and Runt trying to find a home, which is honestly the best one out of this whole bunch of AU one-shots.

Then there’s a Katie Ka-Boom and Chicken Boo crossover, which is as underwhelming as you can imagine.

There’s a short where Dot takes the place of Slappy Squirrel, which goes about as well as it can after the theme song repeatedly calls her “Dottie the Squirrel”.

Lastly, Slappy takes the place of Dot in a Warner Siblings skit (with a cameo with Flavio as Skippy) where the Warners barge in on a very thinly veiled parody of Saddam Hussein and, uh... Well, it’s about as awkward to watch as it sounds. Props to Slappy for not really being interested in any part of that skit, though.

Man, after this utterly bizarre set of skits, I think we really need that full episode length Pinky and the Brain episode, don’t we?

Soon, folks. Soon.

See you then!

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #In the Garden of Mindy #Pinky and the Cat

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whoistheasshole · 3 years

Text

Why do I get yelled at when other people behave like dillweeds?

Anonymous asks: what to do when people vent their anger on me. is it because i am the quiet one in the family or maybe i am the easy target???? cause they did that to me instead of calling out the one who creates the problem

Hi there,

I am not sure if you mean „complain to me about other people/family members“ only or „lash out at me when they are angry at somebody else“ also. Therefore I will try to cover several bases.

Generally, venting can serve a social function where you go to a third party to blow off steam and come back to the original offender more level-headed and constructive. In this way it can be a healthy tool of de-escalation – instead of having a hot-headed debate and just riling each other up, you talk to somebody else to work through the problem and come back with some fresh ideas.

If you vent in this way, you will get a better understanding if you were overreacting or should stand your ground. It can be necessary support to hold firm when you are in fact right.

Of course, all this counts on the fact the everybody involved is a willing participant.

If somebody vents excessively, without the consent of the target or worst, blows up at somebody else because they cannot blow up at the original offender, the venter may still feel relief, but the ventee is drawing the short end of the social stick, so to speak.

It sounds like you are in the latter scenario.

As to the why – I don’t know where it originated, but there’s this story about the boss yelling at the male employee, the employee coming home and yelling at his wife, the wife yelling at the kid and the kid yelling at the dog. The dog then probably gets a stress ulcer and starts chewing up shoes. As this short, though heteronormative, image shows: Everybody is finding somebody else with less power to vent their anger that they are not able to direct back at the aggressor. In real life, it is not always that simple because human connections and power structures are complex (and not like a white US TV commercial from the 50s), but the general dynamic holds true: If people are not able or willing to re-create their equilibrium by fighting right back at the (verbal) attacker, they will find other means to do so. The means do not have to be interpersonal – a lot of people are internalizers and turn the stress inward, getting the aforementioned stress illnesses instead. Or they try to cope with the situation and turn to an advice column. Just as an example. But generally, if you have a group of people–friends, hobby groups, work, family–unwritten social dynamics will always be at play that direct, among other things, who dares talk back to whom, who will stand by and look, who will try to get out of the line of fire, who tends to get blamed and so forth.

Long story short: Through the unique mix of power structures and personalities in your family, you are where you are now. You identified that you would like it to change and need some ammunition to do so. Fortunately, I do have some strategies for you.

First: If there are no safety issues at play, direct is always best. That doesn’t mean spontaneous. You can rehearse what you want to say or talk through it with friends or alone in front of a mirror–rehearsal can be crucial. But it’s absolutely okay and within your power (again, if safe) to speak up about your boundaries and needs. Find a short script that feels right and appropriate for the situation and tell the venter. You might want different scripts for when they are ready to have their next feelings barf versus talking to them in a quiet minute to re-set the dynamic. E.g. „Hey X, I realize Y topic is weighing heavily on you right now, but I’m kind of at my limit talking it through, so I’d like to focus on other topics. I hope you work it out!“

The last part is your friend, by the way, redirecting them to action. It can be used beautifully with incorrigible venters to make it very boring/unhelpful to talk to you. You have to be persistent though, these kind of dynamics are not changed in a day.

„That sounds tough, well I hope you work it out!“ / „Oh. What are you going to do about it?“ / „I see. What do you plan on doing now?“ / „I see that you are quite upset right now so I will give you some space. Feel better!“ and move away. (Read the last one from a Captain Akward commenter and I am still in love.)

What you want to do is:

1) Make it boring. Ever heard that active listening is important? Not here. Here you want to be the least enthused and most unhelpful listener that has ever graced the earth. Short words are your friend, said in a completely neutral tone: „Oh.“ / „I see.“ / „Hu.“ / „Hm.“ If you need some more pointers, look up „Grey rock method“. Fiddle with your phone, get up to do the laundry, have something at the ready that you need to start doing now which means you need to move physically away/make some loud noise. Potentially something that the other person approves of, or at least has no good reason to argue back against. „That sounds tough. I wish I could help, but I really need to get started on my applications. Catch you later!“

2) Never under any circumstances offer your opinion on the situation and especially not on what the other person should do. They might try to make you solve their problems or alternatively, shoot everything down that you suggest, which is also frustrating. If you have the urge to say something or are unsure how to continue the conversation without saying what you think, try silence. Few things are more effective in a conversation than silence. Maybe a small „Hmm“ or other thinking noises, if you must. If asked directly, you can also use „That’s a tough one, no idea off the top of my head.“ / „Honestly, I don’t know. What do you think?“ / „Beats me.“ You can say it sympathetically and remorsefully, but the more monosyllabic and flat you can be, the better.

3) Redirect them to figure it out themselves. See above: „Oh. What are you going to do about it?“ / „I see. What do you plan on doing now?“ It doesn’t mean they ever will. They might actually leave in a huff, but that’s a success. We cannot make other people do things, we can only control what we do ourselves. And if Dr. Vent 3000 bothers somebody else next time, well, success. Some people will have the gall to say „Well, you are not very helpful today.“ Take it as a badge of honor, don’t try to convince them otherwise, you are the grey rock. „Yeah, I’m not creative today.“ / „I’m all out of ideas.“ *shrug*

Family dynamics can make this list of strategies a little less helpful because you are in close quarters more often (I assume) and you cannot avoid the offender as easily, therefore definitely weigh how direct you can be with the person. If you don’t expect serious repercussions, it’s fine to say „Hey, I’m not involved with this and don’t want to be.“ / „Sounds like you need to sort this out with X.“ /„I don’t want to be in the middle of this, please take it up with X.“ / „Frankly, I don’t enjoy these conversations. What about topic change?“ and the all time classics of telling them about other things you need to do now and leaving.

When people put us in a weird position, the anger we feel at the mistreatment can make us blind to the options that are actually at our disposal. It is possible that you can only use few things of what I suggested, but make sure to stop and make an inventory of things that you can do because they are in your power. Feeling stuck and powerless can be the worst thing about this kind of situation and the antidote is identifying what you can do.

P.S.: Don’t get drawn into the losing battle of making the original offender behave (the person who upset the venter). It doesn’t sound like you’re the parent/authority figure in this scenario, so all you need to do is treat people who deserve it kindly and state your own boundaries when they are crossed.

#post #questions #advice #learned helplessness #recovery #conflict resolution #grey rock method #family #boundaries #boundary #boundary setting #who is the asshole

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guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom · 4 years

Text

It Takes Two to Tango

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader

Warnings: Language, guns, knives, violence, self destructive behavior, mentions of mania and depression, mentions of bipolar disorder, descriptions of tattoo guns, slight slut shaming maybe, a bong, allusion to corrupt government, mentions of prostitution, mentions of parental neglect, and mentions of piercings.

Word Count: 6.5k

Songs: Drew Barrymore- SZA, No Role Modelz- J.Cole, Baby Blue- Action Bronson, Little Dark Age- MGMT, Gansta- Kehlani, Shutter Island- Jessie Reyez, Good Days-SZA, King’s Dead, Kendrick Lamar, and Saint Bernard- Lincoln.

“Which was odd because usually he talks the most on these rides. After we got over the initial awkwardness of the whole fire and Vulture thing we fell back into the way of things. Well if he was going to play this game I would too because what’s that saying? It takes two to tango.”

A/N: Hold on tight a lot goes down and it’s not looking up anytime soon.

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

I was running faster than I’d ever had before the heels I had been trying on? Not helping my case. Since this is apparently my brand now I backed myself up onto the edge of the building.

I had a gun trained on me.

“Come with us Y/N please,”

“No! Who the fuck is Y/N?”

“Don’t play dumb ma’am we’ve done extensive research on you and we see you’ve done the same with us,”

I rolled my eyes.

“Fuck you! I have no idea what you’re talking about and this is harassment,”

“You’re cornered there’s no way out,”

The man wasn’t going to shoot me. No one would’ve come all the way out here and have chased me for this long when they had a gun if they were really planning on killing me. They would’ve done it already. And if this was who I thought it was I was not going with them.

“Just come with us, we’re on your side, we’re not trying to hurt you,” That sounds exactly like someone who was going to hurt me would say.

“Yeah says the man who has a gun aimed at me,” I rolled my eyes.

“This is simply a safety precaution, just make this easier for everyone,”

I looked back at him before making my decision. I was getting the hell out of here now.

I bent backwards towards the street underneath me. Instead of free falling I put my hands behind me going into a backbend kickover grabbing onto the ledge.

Using my legs as a propeller I launched myself closer to the wall. I’d gotten lucky and the walls had protruding bricks that I could scale.

The man who I think was from SHIELD was hot on my tail. So I had to move fast. I scaled my way to the nearest balcony jumping into the pool in a leap of faith.

I’d made it in thankfully. Guess my story wasn’t over.

Then I had to run. I was running down the streets. Thankfully this was New York and no one would bat an eye at someone who was drenched head to toe running down the street. They’d just pass me off as another nut job and go about their day.

So much has happened I feel like this is an episode of shameless. You really were too busy to tune in last week you skank ass bitch? I almost died twice and I still managed to check in, whatever, just pay attention to the next clip.

“So that building exploded and that loud siren noise I think I told you about was going off in my ears and when I left the plane with Vulture and Spidey were fighting by a crashed plane and Vulture put too much power onto his wings and they were gonna blow up. And I got mad like fucking top of the anger iceberg mad. So when I was like on the verge of blacking out like fucking fire came out of my hands and disintegrated those wings. Like they turned to ash before my very eyes. Then I had a panic attack of course and that’s pretty much it,”

“Uh… I just called you here to tell you I found something about that SHIELD guy who came after but, I’m glad you’re okay,” Felicia told me.

“Sorry… I guess I got too excited,”

“What'd you find?” I moved over to her in her spinning chair.

“Look and see for yourself,” She moved out the way.

I sighed plopping down onto the small twin bed.

“I know what you’re doing,” I said, picking up a piece of popcorn.

“What are you talking about?” Carmen asked as if she was genuinely confused.

“You’re trying to trick me into eating and sleeping, which is totally not fair because if I want to wallow in self pity I should be able to,”

“I know what happens when it gets bad and I’m not letting you get there again,”

I sighed again. She is always claiming that she sees herself in me and she wants me to be the best version of myself.

She acts like since she’s one year older than me that she’s my mentor or something.

Plus she also thinks I have an undiagnosed and untreated bipolar disorder so who’s to say everything else she says isn’t a lie also.

We were watching a Wrinkle in Time and I knew I was going to cry when the girl’s dad came back. I always did and I didn’t want to cry today.

“Wanna go do something?”

“Sure... Where are we going?”

“Out,”

I tried on a lot of Carmens clothes and ended up wearing the most extravagant outfit I’d ever worn. I felt extremely giddy for no reason in particular. I was wearing a puffy skirt and corset. We were walking about the streets of Brooklyn with no clear destination in mind just talking.

“I just find it funny that all you have to do to be famous on Tiktok is be white and skinny like smoke a cigarette in a subway station or some shit,”

“Why don’t we get famous?”

“Now how would we get famous,” I poked.

“I’m offended that you don’t think we could,” She stopped on the side of the street.

“Gimme your phone,” She demanded in a kind way.

I plopped it into her palm.

I’d honestly forgotten where I was for a second because I’d zoned out yet again. She put the phone back in my hand and she had made a Tiktok account for the both of us.

She was only checking to see if I liked the account name because she took the phone right back afterwards.

I didn’t mind.

“I should get a tattoo right?” I asked, putting another one of the chamoy gummy worms in my mouth.

“How many do you have now?”

“I think like twelve?”

“And that’s not enough for you?”

“Noo! I like the ones I have. I just want a bigger one.”

“Then do it?”

We were actually in walking distance of a tattoo parlour I just didn’t trust them. Never cheat on your nail tech or hairstylist and it goes the same for tattoo artists.

Two subway rides later we were in Queens. I walked up to the front desk and was about to ask for my go to artist but she walked out the back room before I had the chance.

“Y/N, ‘s that you?” She asked.

“The one and only,” I twirled around in my dress.

“This dress is very different than your usual style but I can’t say I don’t love it,” She pulled at the fabric then glanced up her eyes, lighting up in recognition. She gasped “Is this Carmen?”

I nodded “My bad lemme introduce you to each other. Carmen this is Enchantress and you already know Carmen apparently,”

I’d played a Russian roulette sort of thing with my tattoo Pinterest board just clicking one with my eyes closed. Then there was the buzzing of the gun moving along my skin. Puncturing it in a way that felt extremely bittersweet.

I never understood people who said tattoos hurt. I could always barely feel them. They felt like a simple scrape over your skin. Also at this shop they still give you the wrapping for your tattoo but it’s filled with ink still so you can move it around in the bubble. I like messing with the ink sack. I think that’s why I come here so often.

I was admiring the tattoo on my lower abdomen in the mirror when I was startled.

“Wait!” Enchantress exclaimed, starling me “I just realized you got a piercing. Come here,” She beckoned.

She turned towards me

“It’s actually super straight, did you do this?”

I opened my mouth to respond when Carmen answered for me.

“No, some girl did it for her in her school bathroom,” I really gotta stop telling her everything. She’s always snitching on me.

“I want to be mad but I can’t because it actually looks super healthy,” She titled my chin up to get a better view “However if it gets infected I’m beating your ass,”

We exited the shop after I paid well, Carmen paid but I’ll pay her back. There was a pretty hefty discount too, because Enchantress loved me apparently, I loved her too. She’s an older sister figure like my role model. I mean she was when I was a few years younger. I think I’ve grown out of role models.

I felt a sharp uncomfortable sensation in my body which sort of felt like those anxiety brain zaps but located in my abdomen.

I looked behind me and there was something off about this man who was standing a few feet behind me. I accidently made eye contact with him and he bolted off.

Weird.

“Y/N are you even listening to me?”

“Huh,” I turned in Carmen’s directions “Sorry what'd you say?”

“I was saying that since you got a tattoo, I’m gonna cut and dye my hair,”

“Cool what color?”

“I don’t know yet let’s go just to CVS ‘nd decide there,”

I was sitting on the kitchen counter behind the chair Carmen was in as I applied the bleach to her hair singing along to the song playing.

Why is it so hard to accept the party is over?

You came with your new friend

And her mom jeans and her new Vans

I set the bowl of hair bleach onto the counter hopping down to get ready for my favorite part of the song.

And she's perfect and I hate it

I sang it loudly moving my hands around like I always do releasing my energy. It was almost like therapy. Who am I kidding SZA is therapy.

I used the bathroom and I couldn’t find soap. I looked under the cabinet and found the soap. I also found something else I wasn’t expecting to see. I brought it back into the kitchen with me.

“You have a hello kitty bong?”

She grabbed it from my hands examining it.

“Well actually I stole it from my sister,”

“No way, this is Dinah’s? Because she just got ten times cooler,”

“All I know was she got back in college, then she just stopped using it,”

I finished Carmen’s hair which for some reason she trusted me enough to cut curtain bangs for her honestly they didn’t look too bad. It was just very time consuming.

“Okay but are you sure, how’d you know he’s gay?” Harry questioned leaning back to look at the kid again.

“Just watch,” I raised my voice just enough for him to be able to hear me “Charlie!”

He turned around as if he were stunned that I was talking to him.

“Who me?” He asked.

“Yes you,”

“Oh,”

“So can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah sure I guess…”

“What’s your favorite Percy Jackson book?”

“The answer Lightning Thief is pretty basic but it’s my favorite or maybe the Titan’s Curse, I’m not sure,”

“Okay cool, thank you,” I turned back to face Harry “See,”

“That doesn’t prove anything but okay,”

“He knew more than one book in the Percy Jackson series that tells me all I need to know,”

“I know more than one Percy Jackson book,” He eyed me.

“Yeah and you’re gay,”

He just huffed. Got him there.

“He still wouldn’t fuck you though,” I sat tucked my legs underneath me.

“Whatever shouldn’t you be in your class? Which is it again?”

“Physics,”

“Oh…”

“Oh what? Don’t oh me,”

“You’re avoiding Peter,”

“I’m not avoiding Peter,” I totally was. Just Harry thinks I’m doing it because I like him. I didn’t tell him that but I might've let him believe it, because how do you even go about telling someone Hey I’m avoiding the person because fire came out of my body and they saw it. I’d sound insane.

As I was walking to the gym and by to, I mean away from, but that’s not the point, I could’ve sworn I saw the same man from Saturday in the window near the crowd of students.

Accompanied by the same gut feeling.

I pushed my way into the gym. To avoid him. I bumped into someone. Off instinct I got defensive but then I heard an

“Oh, sorry. Sorry!” Once they’d turned around I realized it had been Peter. Just my luck.

“You’re fine that was basically my fault anyway,”

I was going to just walk over to one of my friends but they weren’t here and Liz literally just left the school. So I had no escape.

Well there was one escape. There’s always a way out.

“Y/N!” The female gym coach called.

“Yes?” I rolled my eyes.

“Where are your gym clothes?”

“Probably in the locker room...”

“Why aren’t you wearing them?”

“I didn’t feel like it,”

“You need to change for your grade, participation is important,”

I picked up my backpack off the floor before pushing open the doors to the girls locker room. Instead of going towards my locker I headed straight for the metal doors leading into the hallway. I went to the space I always seemed to drift to when I had nowhere else to go.

The teachers bathroom.

I know that sounds weird but it’s the only one I can lock. I stole a key a while back when I went to get my phone back from one of the teachers.

I guess Carmen was a psychic or something because one of the videos she’d posted on our group account of us eating in the dresses, me getting that tattoo, and dying Carmen’s hair had blown up.

I did not see her take any of the clips but the proof was right in front of me.

The video had half a million views and I assumed that was because of all the comments helping pushing the algorithm.

Some of them were nice like

hey lol

you’re both gorgeous omg

That tattoo is cool af

I want to be you

I should pay you to do my hair lmao

I can't tell if i want to be you

The other half were like

No child should be getting a tattoo you look so young

That is the devils sign I’m praying for you.

Why please Go To God✝️✝️🙏🏻🙏🏻♥️

Im praying for you

At first I was confused as to why half of the comments were people praying. Then I realized it was because Carmen had on her pentagram necklace.

I’m definitely not complaining about the comments though because they got me that many views, likes, and follows, but the ignorance upsets me. A pentagram only represents Earth, Air, Water, and Fire it’s about balance.

I think it’s cool, kinda like the Avatar. It has nothing to do with Satan. I didn’t really want to think about Fire. I was still freaking out about Friday. It hadn’t happened again so maybe I dreamt it or something.

Somehow I spent the rest of gym and half of what should’ve been me heading to detention responding to every Christian’s comment with something dumb or witty.

I was walking towards the detention room and was startled by Peter. Again.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Um… this is gonna sound insane but,” he paused looking down fiddling with his hands.

My face twisted up in confusion as to why he still hadn’t spoken.

“Are you gonna to speak…”

“Oh. Oh!” He looked back up “Yeah you remember my internship right?”

“Yeah…” I guess he was going to act like I didn’t know about him being Spiderman again.

“So now Mr. Stark is interested in you and wants you to come with me upstate,”

“Why me?”

“I’m not sure, but if you’re coming someone is outside waiting for us,”

I’m sure this was just another attempt to lure me into some SHIELD mess. However Peter had no idea about Thorn or any of the other fucked up shit I’d done. So it would look suspicious if I didn’t go. Because what kid or any other person wouldn’t want to meet Tony Stark.

“Okay then, what are we waiting for?”

The ride there was completely silent. I spent the whole time texting Carmen as she complained about her boyfriend. I really hated him oh my God. Peter had gone into the building about 15 minutes ago.

“Okay, if he’s always getting on your nerves and trying to control you why are you still with him?” I asked in the snap meant for Carmen.

“You know why, I’m not going to say it because then you’d get mad at me,” She sent a video back.

“Thank you I do not want to hear about your boyfriends dick-,” I was interrupted by a knock on the window “Okay I can’t talk got to go,” I sent the video before sliding across the seat pushing the door open.

“What happened?” I asked as Peter sat back in the car.

“It was a test,” He said, providing no further elaboration.

The back window was rolled down and the guy who drove us here. Happy, I think. There is no way that was his real name. He stuck his face in the window.

“Hey, the boss wants to see you now,”

I turned back to Peter and whispered.

“The boss? Am I about to walk into some mafia meeting,”

He just laughed at that.

“We don’t have much time,” Happy urged.

As we began walking the halls of the giant building as I pocketed random trinkets that I could sell for a quick buck.

“So what’s your real name?” I asked Happy since this whole time he was leading me it was a silent ride.

He continued to ignore me.

So I asked again. I could tell from his body language that I was getting on his nerves.

I asked twice more and by the time the last sentence came out of my mouth we’d already reached our destination. He walked away not before mumbling a quick I hate kids.

“Y/N it’s nice to meet you,” Tony greeted as he reached out to shake my hand. I allowed it.

“You’re a lot shorter in person,” I pointed out after releasing his hand.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” He reached for a bowl putting something in his mouth. “Grape?” He offered.

“No thank you,” Not like they’d be poisoned or anything, no one had even gotten the chance to question me yet. Also there was the fact that he was eating them but this could be a Princess Bride situation. Not taking any chances.

“Okay,” He clapped, dusting his hands. “Let’s get to the point now,”

“So I’ve been informed that you had an instance with pyrokinesis,” He continued after I nodded. “I was hoping to research this to get to the bottom of this,”

“So you want to use me as a lab rat?”

“No of course not, the research would be used purely for your personal benefit,”

For my benefit my ass. They were going to turn me into a lab rat or a soldier.

“Okay I’ll think about it,” Thought about it. A hard hell no.

“If you do choose to do so since you are a minor I’ll need parental consent,”

“Of course,” I nodded.

There was a pamphlet that I wasn’t going to read. I wasn’t really going to ask for permission. Was I? If I wasn’t then why was I back at ”my” house.

I just missed my bed, it was messy but it was mine.

I started sobbing for no reason at all. Maybe it was the old sketchbooks on my bed, or my mom's broken jewelry box. It could’ve been the smell of incense that never left from the lack of ventilation. It was probably the pile of crystals on my dresser. Then again it could’ve been the nazar eye amulet from the broken bracelet on the ground or the hole in the wall where I used to keep my favorite knife. Maybe it was all of those things. Maybe it was so much more. Maybe it was something different entirely. Maybe it was the colors of the wind. Who knows.

My eyes stung as my eyeliner dripped down and into them. I blinked the tears away as I went through all my clothes and I mean ALL my clothes.

I found another bodycon dress. I slipped it on after stuffing a few other articles in my bag. I continued searching to the very back of my closet and I found an old purse. There were at least $50 in the back pocket and in the front pocket there were- Oh.

There was a small plastic bag with at least 500gs of Xanax. I must’ve left them there after Washington.

I wasn’t going to take them. I really wasn't; I just put them in the bra. You know for safe keeping. I heard the front door open and made a break for the balcony.

Although I’d regularly seen my sisters. I still hadn’t seen my dad since I’d left. They’d seen him a couple times though he was fine with the idea of them staying at our grandma’s for who knows how long. He doesn’t care as long as he’s still got that girlfriend of his. I can only imagine what he told her about us not staying with him.

I jumped down the stairs of the fire escape and my heart almost jumped out of my chest. As something hit my calf.

I looked down to see it was just Salem climbing up my leg. I lifted her up to my chest nuzzling the top of her head.

“Hiii baby!” I cooed in a baby voice.

I now more carefully made my way down the steps so as to not disrupt her. Now I was going to go straight to my grandma’s house to drop off the clothes, but I wanted to go shopping before it got too late.

I already had no money so I have no idea why I thought it was a good idea but there I was with a $300 charge on my credit card.

I probably looked insane walking around the mall with a cat in my backpack and black streaks underneath my eyes.

If you’ve never done this I highly recommend it. Every subway train comes with carts and the last cart is a door with railing and no other restrictions. You can just sneak into the very back.

The wind hitting your face is the most freeing thing in the world and you can scream as loud as you want and no one will hear you. That fact can be unsettling to some but to me it’s beautiful.

Releasing your true emotions to no one but you and yourself. I closed my eyes holding onto the railing with one hand and Salem in the other. I put her back into my backpack before sitting down.

Since the app is addicting, and you can’t tell me it’s not, I opened Tiktok and the first thing I saw is a guy pouring what I hoped wasn’t I thought it was into a bowl.

So naturally my first reaction was to make a video about it because who doesn’t overshare on the internet.

“Tell me why,” The track rumbled underneath me, making Salem whine, I picked her up letting her cuddle into my chest.

“Okay, I have a cat now but-” The track rumbled again “It’s so fucking loud but tell me why I opened this hellfire app and see some dude pouring cum into a bowl, I hate everyone,”

Within like six minutes of me posting it I had multiple likes and comments.

The only reason being is that Harry dueted.

I gotta say being the kid of a mayor and a multimillionaire gives you some form of clout. So he had a pretty heft following.

Harry’s similar to me in the way that we’re mean to our friends. So naturally we’re ”mean” to each other.

“You look stupid,” Harry claimed in his video “Also who’s fucking cat did you steal put it back and get in the trains properly and go wash your face,”

I hadn’t even realized I was on my new account at first.

Of course I made a response video.

“First of all this is my cat, her name is Salem and she’s adorable” I mean not really but she belongs to no one else, and I feed her. “Second, ignore my eyeliner. I actually think it looks kinda cute,” Lie, It just made me look crazy. “Also how'd you even find this account so fast? Stalker. I’d advise you shut up before I post your phone number then you’d have to ward off groupies. I’m sure you’d like that though.”

I’m pretty sure the majority of the people in our comments thought we were being serious. So in turn they commented things like I have no idea who you are but I’m on your side, is this gonna be another scandal, or here before the news is talking about it.

I’m not complaining. His history of scandals got me to 5k followers for the pure assumption that I was involved in some other secret.

My mind was moving at 100 miles per hour. It felt like I was on a whole bottle of adderall. I was going somewhere. At least I remember I was supposed to be somewhere. I’m pretty sure my grandma’s house was where I was going. Right?

“No weapon against you shall prosper mija,” My grandma squeezed my hand “You are stronger than you know,”

“I know. Thank you,”

I’d got here and we had a 30 minute conversation about my mental health without outright saying anything about mental health. It was just mostly her taking shots at my dad. With the exception of her telling me I was dressed like una furcia.

“Okay well,” I pushed up off the couch “I just came to bring some clothes and I need to get back anyway,”

“Get back to where, where are staying?” She asked.

“Oh you remember MJ right?” I lied.

“Oh yes, I like that lil’ girl,”

I went into the guest room to where my sisters were staying. I could hear rustling as I got closer to the room. I flicked on the lights. To see both of my sisters asleep. It was only 10:30 so that was highly unlikely.

“I know you’re not sleep it’s just me,”

They peeled open their eyes, sitting up.

“I come bearing gifts,” I announced kneeling down next to the bag.

I placed the bag on the floor carefully so I wouldn’t hurt Salem.

Sapphire squealed when she saw her.

“You got Salem? I missed her!”

“Well actually, I just brought clothes,” I dumped them on the bed “Aaliyah come here?” I asked.

She hopped down from the bed.

“All of Sapphire’s clothes are over there but I know we’re like the same size so pick what you want,” I told her.

She took at least half of what I had but I wasn’t complaining because at least she wasn’t going behind my back and taking them.

“Okay but like am I really allowed to hate my father like cause,” I tried to move only to immediately lose balance “Shit- but like can I even hate my dad if I do the same shit he does, like maybe, maybe it’s like some contractual blood magic shit and I’m just destined to be a shitty person,” I was sending videos to some group chat I didn’t know who was in it because I couldn’t really read the name I just know Harry was the only one responding.

“I get it being like your parents is scary but you’re not and I won’t let you be like that, now get some sleep please,” Harry reassured.

“NO! It’s like,” I struggled to get the sentence out “It’s like crazy because before I existed it like someone fucking planted this, like it- it’s a-,” I hit my forehead on each word as if I could physically knock them out. “It’s a seed in my brain and it’s only going to grow as I get older and I’m just gonna be an asshole, it’s fucking happening already and I-“ Carmen came into the living room I flipped the camera onto her “Say hi!” I slurred.

“Y/N you okay?” She said making her way over to me. I stopped the video and sent it.

“I’m fine how are you?”

“I thought you went to bed,” she ignored my question.

“I did. Then I couldn’t sleep,” I leaned back onto the couch. She crouched down next to me feeling my forehead.

“You have a fever,” She claimed.

“No I don’t! Why does everyone keep saying that?” I whined.

“Are you high?” She moved closer to my face.

“No I’m not fucking high,”

“You’re slurring your words,” She pointed out moving into the kitchen “What’d you take?”

“What?”

“I said what’d you take,” She going into one of the cabinets “I know you’re not drunk because you don’t smell like alcohol and you don't smell like weed, so I’ll ask you again,”

“I didn’t take anything, I'm not high!” I explained.

“It was Benadryl wasn’t it?” She came back into the living room and handed me a glass of water. “You know that stuff kills people,”

“Yeah I think I of all people would know that,” Truth is I wasn’t lying. I didn’t take anything. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, maybe sleep deprivation.

“True,” She sat down on the floor next to me “You know how I said I can tell when it’s getting bad,” I nodded. “Well like I was saying before it’s getting bad for you-”

“No it’s not,” I interrupted “I’m literally the happiest I’ve ever been today,”

“I was getting there,” She held her hands up in an attempt to placate me “That’s just the calm before the storm it’s mania,”

“I’m not manic! Stop trying to psychoanalyze me I’m perfectly fine,”

I must've woken Salem up because I could hear her footsteps as she paddled over to me and sat in my lap. It’s like she knew when I was getting angry.

“That’s the thing you’re not fine, just let me know when you’re ready to admit that,” She pushed off the ground using her hands “Try to get some sleep please and thank you,”

I think it was the weight and warmth of Salem on my chest that finally lulled me to sleep like a weighted blanket.

“Sapphire!” I yelled to catch her attention “Stop running you’re gonna hurt yourself,”

She slowed down before making her way back to Aaliyah and the other kids at this birthday party.

I sat back down on the table’s bench before getting back on my phone. I saw this post one time about how people use technology to distract themselves so they can't have the chance to have a depressive thought. Then I decided to prove that theory wrong so I put my phone up and I thought.

And boy did I have a lot to think about. The biggest thing on my mind was why. Why did Tony Stark come after me? Why did the guy with the gun come after me? Why did my mom feel the need to make an “Incase I die” video? Why did she have connections to people like Kingpin? Why did she even know Wade? Wasn’t he some science experiment gone wrong?

Then that got me thinking what if I was a science experiment gone. What if that’s why Tony Stark wanted to experiment on me. What if that was under the orders of someone from SHIELD, because how would he have known about me otherwise.

Welp, there was only one way to find out.

“Okay I’m in,” I settled. “What do I have to do?”

“Uh are you sure?” Tony asked.

“Positive,” I affirmed.

“Well first we would probably do some blood tests and an MRI. Then see where that takes us.” He looked back over at me “Can you do this tomorrow?”

“Yeah tomorrow works for me,”

“Great,” He clapped his hands together “I’ll send Happy to pick you up from school,”

“No it’s fine I can get here myself.”

“It’s a different location,” He revealed.

“Okay tell me where it is and I’ll make it there myself,”

“I can’t not even I know where it is,”

“Fine, I’ll do this, but only if I can bring a friend,” I requested “You know for safety reasons?”

“Safety reasons? Do you not trust me?”

“Not really…”

“Wow okay, you can bring this friend,”

“Who doesn’t trust Iron man?'' I heard him mutter to himself as I made my way out of the building.

I always thought the apocalypse would come in colors. The sky flashing from red to pink to purple to orange. Then there would be a loud sound almost like the Big Bang. Then nothing. I had a vivid imagination when I was younger.

I guess I was wrong though because it was already here and the sky was as blue as ever. And the air was as humid as ever in this crusty ass building.

“I told you already I’m not a soldier you’re gonna have to pay me for this,” I spoke into the comms.

“Shh,” Tony hushed “Just wait for your target.”

Life hadn’t been all that bad. Just for the past two weeks I’d been training with Peter since at the end of the week that I agreed to testing, Spiderman joined in the Avengers officially. Which, good for him I guess.

Trying to get my brain back on track now. I’d been training with Peter and now we’re going on our first mission. I was not loyal to Tony at all. Nor would I ever be. I’m not calling him Mr. Stark like Peter does either, he doesn’t deserve it. I was trying to look up my mom with the information Felicia gave me and I saw she was listed as level orange in a shield file. Whatever that means.

One thing it meant was I couldn’t back out just yet now.

This would be one deep inside job.

“Peter?” I whispered into the comms

“Hello?” He asked.

“Where are you?”

“I’m guarding the entrance like I was told too?” He asked more than stated.

“Well, come here,”

“But Mr. Stark said-“

“I don’t care what Mr. Stark said come here,” I interjected without even thinking about the fact he could’ve been listening in somehow.

“Yes?” He questioned once he was standing in front of me.

“Take my role for a second,” I pulled my gun out the holster “You know how to use a gun right?”

I thought back to the last time we’d actually fought as our alter egos. Except then he didn’t know it was me and he still doesn’t. He definitely didn’t know how to use a gun then let’s just hope he did now.

“You know what, I don’t have time just take it,” I placed the gun in his palm before speeding off.

“Wait!” He called out “Aren’t you defenseless now?”

“I’ll be fine baby boy,” I called back.

I made my way into the farthest depths of the warehouse. I’d been here once before. That was before I knew Felicia and we’d gotten into a scuffle about a diamond. Let’s just say I was young and I went home bruised that day.

Apparently I was under the impression she had it and she was under the impression I had it this whole time. So maybe. Just maybe it was still there. It was somewhere in the back last time I checked.

There it was. I grabbed it and recoiled when I heard a voice accompanied by the sharp zap in my body.

“Looking for something?” They asked. I turned around only to be faced with a large burly almost Frankenstein looking man.

“Oh yeah I was looking for you actually, you just made my job a lot easier,”

As if my words were a signal for him. They probably were. He lunged forward towards me with his left side fully open. I evaded and left a sharp kick to his side.

He wailed out in pain before slinging me backward as I tried to reach for the diamond off the floor.

I skidded across the floor before hopping back to my feet.

“I found the guy,” I spoke into the comms.

“Who are you talking to?” The target teased.

“Your mom,” I taunted.

“Hey!” He cried.

“Where are you?” I heard Peter ask I didn’t get a chance to answer because the man swung at me again.

That hit made contact with my shoulder. He continued to swing and I continued to walk backwards. I realized almost too late that I was backing myself into a corner.

I’m not sure where or who I heard this from maybe Wade but sometimes the only point your opponent has his guard down is mid punch.

I scrambled for my knife, fingers dancing around the holster on my waist as my feet continued to slide along the pavement underneath me. Just as the man swung at me again I sent my knife towards his torso. Except it didn’t make contact. And I had never missed before, especially not from this close.

I was confused until I realized it was because I heard that all familiar wet sticky sound of Spider-Man’s web shooters except this time I was glad to hear it.

Peter webbed the man's arms and mouth all while my fingers went lax in shock for only a moment but one moment too long.

The knife clattered to the ground making a noise that drew Peter’s attention. I tried to swipe it away with my foot but Peter had already grabbed it.

“This is Thorns knife,” He spoke calmly and I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or if it was for himself.

“And how would you have Thorns knife unless you were,” I saw his eyes light up as he made the connection. “Wait, you’re Thorn, holy shit, I’m so stupid how’d I not notice before,”

“Peter seriously you can’t tell anyone,”

He looked up as if he were just noticing I was still there.

“Don’t worry I won’t be saying anything at all,”

Yeah, this was definitely the apocalypse because I don’t know if it was just me but life was ending.

Another silent ride and I realized exactly what he’d meant when he said he wouldn’t say anything. He was giving me the silent treatment.

Which was odd because usually he talks the most on these rides. After we got over the initial awkwardness of the whole fire and Vulture thing we fell back into the way of things. Well if he was going to play this game I would too because what’s that saying? It takes two to tango.

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