#people who have their actual daily job they get paid for to explain these things to other people

[thefirstknife]

Go off! It's the Cinemasins Effect. There is no literary analysis, just listing of facts like you're reading a Wikipedia summary. Devoid of accounting for personality traits, external influences, basic human (or alien) contradictory nature, unreliable narration (always present in Destiny), multiple points of view that are clashing (because that's how the world works), etc., these facts tell us little about the actual story so it's easy to misinterpret obvious solutions.

A listed fact might say "Eramis endangered her own house by opening the Vex portal on Europa" and then whenever Eramis talks about caring for her people, someone who engages with only the list might think "That makes no sense!" And it does, if we go deeper and account for her desperation and corruption and how much she did not understand what was happening to her. She desperately tried proving that she has agency, but it was the exact opposite; while fleeing from the Traveler claiming not wanting to be its pawn, she was actually the pawn of the Witness. She was used by the Witness to get us, the real target, to be tempted with stasis and the moment she lost (no longer worthy of being a part of the final shape), she was discarded. However, not entirely, because she still had to remain a pawn potentially to be used later when the Witness needs a convenient and desperate soldier to enact its plans under a threat of a total annihilation of her people; because that's what the Witness does. She literally commented on this, how the Witness is "punishing her" by turning her friends into Scorn.

But we never see even a fraction of this kind of analysis in the most popular circles and "lore masters" will always prioritise just listing events and doing "Ending EXPLAINED!" videos with zero character motivations or analysis mentioned. I won't even go into how much of Destiny story is obviously constricted by technical elements and the type of game it is, which is something people forget all the time and expect Destiny to suddenly have a singleplayer RPG level of game design which simply will not happen. A lot of the perceived faults in the narrative are almost always of technical nature and writers themselves have spoken about this. I feel like that has to be included in any analysis worth a damn because Destiny's story is trapped within the confines of the genre of media it is in (first person looter shooter); while the story is a major part of the game's essence, gameplay comes first, always. If the story has to be constrained for gameplay purposes, it will be. If it has to be constrained because there's not enough time or resources to add more dialogues or cutscenes or to expand the scope of every character or to create a more complex narrative, it will be. Given all of this, I think the team has done a great job for Eramis over the years and kept her arc as consistent as possible which made this ending easy to predict and satisfying because the arc has concluded as it was intended.

At the end of the day, I don't even mind if people have a personal reason to think "Actually I would never have forgiven Eramis." I'm sure there are characters in-setting who think that; either because of a lack of knowledge about her (if you're just some random citizen, you don't know the details of her corruption or her internal feelings) or because you were personally victimised by her (a lot of Eliksni fled House Salvation because of what she did on Europa that endangered their lives; they may never be ready to forgive her or accept her). That's completely fine. As a matter of fact, I expect it! It adds depth to the story.

The issue is that these people usually go about it by blaming the writers and saying that the writers told their own story wrong. That this decision was objectively incorrect or somehow bad for the narrative or a retcon or out of character or whatever. And it's just not. We, the players, who have all information and everyone's internal feelings presented in the story and lore books, know that this was the intended character arc for Eramis since the moment she didn't get killed at the end of Beyond Light.

Eramis Executors are up in arms that our favorite, bitter, lesbian crab didn’t receive a bullet to her head to no one’s surprise. What happened to the overarching themes involving forgiveness and mending the wounds of the past to build a better future for everyone resonating with people? Does the Traveler and what it has been representing for 10 years mean nothing when it comes to Eramis? Were we supposed to abandon the power of friendship? Is punishment with no consideration the only way of dealing with those who have committed wrong acts that people know of?

[total-drama-brainrot]

Island Assistant Noah AU, where Noah got himself eliminated on purpose, but Chris + Chef somehow figure it out... The day after Noah's elimination, everyone is surprised to see that Noah's back... Chris reveals that inside the contestants' contracts: "Anyone who gets eliminated on purpose, will become Chris Mcclean's Assistant."... And Noah has to be decent at his job, or he won't get paid... Noah stays Chris' Assistant all throughout Island, Action and World Tour! 🌎 (I'm sorry if I'm asking this twice; I don't remember asking this!)

OKAY!! SO!!

You did already ask me this and I did have an answer in the works to the original ask, but because Tumblr's mobile app is my number one enemy, I accidentally posted it. So, really, it's super fortunate that you asked this twice!

But! Because I'm a smart cookie, I took some screenshots of what I had typed out in the original post, so I can just re-type it out here and carry on! (I'd post just the screenshots, but they're full of typos because I'm just awful at typing on a phone.)

So, here's my answer:

Yes!! Give me a Noah who thought he was being so sneaky and cunning by intentionally getting himself eliminated, only for it to backfire horrendously!

The producers would've known that the contestants were being sent to Camp Wawanakwa instead of the resort their contract heavily implied they'd be going to, so they would absolutely anticipate at least one of them trying to pull a stunt like Getting Themselves Eliminated Intentionally- either as an act of defiance against the trickery (of Camp Wawanakwa not being what was advertised) or just to be spiteful.

Noah being the one to do so is just happenstance.

(It was more so expected from the likes of Duncan or Izzy, who are outwardly anti-authoritarian and not afraid to confront perceived injustices.)

If I may, I'd suggest having the contract outline that whoever intentionally gets themself eliminated has to work as a base-level intern, and that their "pay" is them working off whatever expenses the show invested into them as a competitor (travel costs, lodging, food, ect.). So Noah ends up stuck in the role of an unpaid intern for however long it takes him to "earn his keep" so to speak. But it's a Sisyphean task, since his debt is ever growing- he's forced to stay at Playa des Losers as an intern, and his daily cost of living is just added to the expenses he needs to work off.

At first, he'd be outright resistant to doing any of his tasks as an intern, because why should he? He didn't ask for the job, he didn't (knowingly) sign up for it either, and it's not like he's gonna be paid for his work. That is, until the producers threaten to pass his debt off to the rest of his family to "pick up his slack"; Noah's not heartless, and he cares a lot about his family, so he concedes to actually doing the work expected of him to save the rest of his brood from having to compensate for his short-sightedness.

(Let's say this turn of event takes about a week, meaning that from the time of his own elimination to the threat to his family's financial wellbeing, only Justin and Katie have been eliminated. Since, at least during Island, it's established that a challenge and subsequent elimination ceremony happens every three days.)

Now, the thing about lazy people- of which Noah undoubtedly is- is that they're downright innovative when it comes to figuring out shortcuts for any type of labour. Now that he's invested in doing his job, Noah uses that big brain of his to quickly figure out how to get all of his allotted tasks for the day completed to near-perfection, in a manner that's both efficient and easy. It gets to the point where he's completing a full day's work in an hour, spending the rest of the day doing what he loves; nothing. The other interns are just as annoyed as they are impressed.

Word quickly gets back to Chris about his miracle intern. But he's either too preoccupied to actually listen to who it is, or no one thinks to explain that his most productive labourer is the ex-competitor he'd contractually conned into the position.

Needless to say, Chris' interest is piqued.

The host issues a request to have the mystery intern shipped out to the island so they can work on the "important stuff" instead of doing menial tasks on the Playa, and is met with staunch refusal on their part. Which is odd, at least to Chris, since the interns send to be far too scared shitless of him (or, more notably, Chef) to ever outright deny a request like that.

It makes more sense when Noah's literally dragged kicking and screaming back to the island. Of course the only person ballsy enough to defy Chris' whims is the same contestant who got himself intentionally eliminated via deliberately pissing off his teammates. But he's back, now, so he might as well be put straight to work! No use in wasting labour, after all.

(Again, this probably happens over the course of a few days at most, since showbusiness is such a hectic and fast-paced line of work, so let's say that Tyler's the only new elimination in this timeframe.)

Again, Noah utilizes his higher-than-average smarts to figure out how to streamline his expected tasks because he's lazy, inadvertently proving himself as a Valuable Asset to both Chris and Chef since he's surprisingly good at what he does (even if what he does is very little by design). Chris is quick to offer Noah an ultimatum; he can either be promoted to being Chris' Personal Assistant, thus meeting the demands of his previous contract (and, of course, entering a new one under different pretences) and finally being paid for his work, or remain as an unpaid intern indefinitely and receive penalisation for his slacking off- since, despite the fact that he's gotten all of his work finished, he's still technically on the clock for the allotted work hours and should be acting as such instead of lazing about.

It's not really much of a choice. Noah reluctantly takes the promotion.

That's how he finds himself in the position we all know and love; Chris' Personal Assistant.

Because of his new promotion, he's expected to be at least within the vicinity of Chris at all (reasonable) times. The problem with that? Chris is hosting the show he got himself eliminated from in the most socially destructive way possible. Noah's now contractually forced to, at the very least, tiptoe around the prior teammates he knowingly and intentionally made hate him and dearly hope they don't notice him.

...Thus begins an AU's worth of shenanigans wherein Noah is desperately trying to fly under everyone's radar as an intern.

(I'd carry on into what he does during Action and World Tour, but this post is already fairly long, so maybe another time?)

[georgiapeach30513]

Soba 1000% is not making the cut when compared her age bracket.

All of the 20s actresses you’ve mentioned are talented. Varying levels of talent but all of them have done something memorable and worthwhile that brings their name to the conversation.

Soba only has her husband for clout.

When you compare her to all of the other actresses worth mentioning in her bracket, I dare say she is the only one who when you have to explain how do people know her? It’s not because of a role she played but because of who she married.

Remember, WN launched back in 2020. There was a whole season where it was on Netflix (internationally) and yet the only time CE fans even noticed her is because he followed her on SM and people had to google who she was and what she did. Sure WN had its own smaller fanbase but she was the star and still forgettable.

He inadvertently put her on the map (whether or not intentionally is still TBD) because his fanbase was the one who started to do the legwork and get her name mentioned in things like DM and other gossip fodder due to their incessant crazy stalking.

If anything, these latest pics at the restaurant are giving serious Ben and Ana vibes from 2020. Most of CE fans knew Ana because of knives out and there were some GP who knew her from blade runner 2049 and knock knock, but her dating Ben really put her on the GP map and during peak Covid. People were wondering who she was and while she was out being embarrassing with Ben on the daily, she paid her dues, walked away, and came back 200 fold stronger. Now look at her. Oscar nominated (though I have issues with that role and how it happened) and now a household name in her own right. She played the game right and with her own hard work - she earned that shit.

People may disagree with me but I personally see a lot of similarities between these two but the main difference is how these women will leverage their added publicity and fame.

Ana wanted to make a name for herself.

To me, soba is not currently showing much of that. She’s showing “wants to be a sugar baby” but pretends she’s feminist and wants a career. I could be wrong but from her own actions and especially how she’s quick to gallivant around the world on vacation and attending fashion shows, but extremely reluctant to come out and actually promote her own work and show up for work obligations, I’m not seeing someone who really wants to work hard. She wants fame and that’s it. She also wants the luxury that comes with fame and fortune but not the pay your dues part.

Just my take though.

🙌🏻 you get it. There is a lot of similarities between Ana and soba. Ana isn’t the most talented actress, but there is this beauty and poise to her. She is likable with a great personality. But what really sets her apart is her work ethic. That woman PROMOTES HER STUFF!! She knew Ghosted was a flop, and she promoted it daily. She repped herself so hard that she is a Louis Vuitton girl.

Hollywood is a tough world. It’s not easy to make it to it. Just because you get cast, and you act, your job isn’t done. Promoting and press is part of the job. It is tedious and boring and should be done. Ana got an Oscar nod very quickly in her career. Why? Because she wanted it.

Ana has my respect because she earned it. Acting is more work than people realize. Being an influencer is more work than people realize. For someone who has been given a platform, she knows fuck all to do with it. Again, she needs to be humbled.

[djuvlipen]

Once I got into an argument with a white, Spanish leftist, and he told me that Europe was very different from America, that poverty wasn't as racialized in Europe as it is in America, where Black Americans make up the largest portion of the working class.

And what I failed to explain to him and what I wish leftists would understand is that poverty is indeed racialized in Europe. Romani people make up the bulk of Europe's poorest working class.

80% of Romani people live at risk of poverty, compared with an EU average of 17%. (x)

Romani people are one of the demographics the most impacted by human and sex trafficking, and I am saying 'one of the most' because not enough studies have been released on the matter but it's very likely they are the most impacted by trafficking.

The paid work rate for Romani people, aged 20 to 64, is 43 %, much lower than the EU average (70 %) (x), and in Greece, Romani women have been shown to being paid lower wages than non-Romani women. (x) The reason I am only mentioning Greece is because it's the only country where such a study has been carried, but there is no reason to believe Greece is an isolated outlier here.

Romani people's life expectancy is estimated to be 10 years lower than non-Romani people's, in every European country. (x)

Romani people have been enslaved in almost every European countries. (x)

I am white-passing and my family isn't really big on cultural traditionalism: while growing up I never experienced actual racism for my skin colour. The one thing where my being Romani was blatant was in the extremely dire living conditions my family was living in. The white working class can't relate, to be honest I haven't met anyone who can relate to this but other Romani people. Things like this are ever present: your life prospects, and that of your relatives and closed ones, are non existant, and you're being made aware of it; your relatives are all factory workers or unemployed; they have alcohol and drug addiction and deep yet untreated mental illnesses. They die before turning 65. The houses are bad: it's decaying, there are short or long periods of time when you have no electricity nor hot water, it's insalubrious. It's just part of your daily life so you don't really notice it. Administrative papers are never done on time because you don't have that administrative literacy skill and your relatives usually didn't get into higher education if they ever graduated high school at all.

And when I tell this to white working class people they always scold me because while they were poor, they were not that poor. Only other Romani people could relate. The way I relate to my being Romani is through an economic class perspective, because I look white and to me being oppressed for being Romani has always been more about being relegated to the most impoverished social class in Europe, the Romani working class. Once I saw a Romani man saying 'Gypsies live like it's still the 1300s and they act so casual about it', and he was right because sometimes you can't even recognize how fucked up your living conditions are because you're just so used to it.

When I say this, people usually think I'm making stuff up or that I am racist against Romani people but no, but that's just how I grow up. I've talked to many other Romani people before and many of them could relate to what I was saying. I've worked with Romani families and I've witnessed poverty times and times again.

Romani people are Europe's proletarian race and we are the ones being made to work menial jobs, we are the ones being trafficked and exploited like slaves to this day, the women are the ones pimps are using to fuel the European sex trade. And no other demographic can relate to that because none of them are as poor as we are, I learned that from how condescending all the other non-Romani people, no matter their social class or race, were to me when I was talking about that issue.

Some people may think I'm lying and making it all up because it sounds unbelievable, maybe, but I don't care because I know how I grew up and the other Romani people I know could also tell you the same thing I just said and at the end of the day even the white Europeans can't deny that all of us, Romani people, are poor as fuck because they love bringing this up to justify killing us. In my country, "Gypsy" is even used as an adjective to talk about something that's very poor or cheap.

[mr-leach]

Okay so I am so close to taking my supervisor to the side and tearing her to shreds and then taking the bosses aside and tearing them to shreds because there are just so many little things about every single job that are never set in stone to the point where unless you are glued to your supervisor (impossible in my department for reasons that I will soon explain) you will have no idea how to do the job right and at least one thing will have to be fixed/changed and you will of course be blamed for it.

Yesterday I had a job where it was unclear to me where the tags should go on the garment. This has happened so many times that it might as well be a daily occurrence. Our athletic tops usually have the label on the left side seam of the garment, because tags on the collar are obtrusive and uncomfortable. Except when the customer wants the tag on the collar, of course. Usually, when that happens, the technical drawing on the work order reflects this. There's also another, secret rule that if there's two tags attached to the bundle (our logo tag plus the legally required fibre content/washing instructions tag) then it MUST be put at the collar. Sometimes though, the people bundling the job will just throw the additional tags in, even though they're not required, and we're supposed to just know when they're not supposed to be used. I have had jobs with hundreds of pieces where I was given two tags and put them on, only to be told after the fact that I should not have put both tags on. It's very frustrating. Oh, but SOMETIMES the customer will ask for things that we supposedly NEVER do, like they will want shorts with 2 tags, and so in that case we ARE supposed to sew both on, even though normally we NEVER sew 2 tags into shorts.

You can see how this gets annoying.

Now you might think that the order sheet that comes with each job would give us this information. It does not. Sometimes the sheet will have context clues on it, like when there's a tag clearly visible on the technical drawing. Sometimes, if there's only one tag, I know there's an 80% chance that tag goes on the side seam and not the neck. But otherwise, I typically have to ask my supervisor.

My supervisor is never around. She actually runs 3 different departments in different parts of the factory, and she is almost never in ours. She has a "helper" in each department, who is someone that basically keeps track of the work to be done and relays any issues to her (before you ask, no, they do not get paid more for the added responsibilities. Obviously. 🙃). Does the helper have access to the secret knowledge regarding the minute details that aren't accounted for on each order sheet? No. Why the fuck would they know that.

So if I have a question about where the fucking tag goes on something, the person directly overseeing me has no way to answer that question. Oh, but our supervisor doesn't like it when any of us get up from our machines and goes looking for her because it makes her look bad, so I have to ask her helper to do it for me. This goes for any of the half dozen of us in our department, meaning that sometimes, my guy isn't even around to relay my question, because he's busy relaying someone else's question. Idk how me sitting on my hands waiting to just ask someone where a label goes does not also look bad on my supervisor but what do I know. When this happens several times a week, or even several times a day, it can get really fucking old, and honestly it makes me feel bad for the helper because he also has his own work he needs to get done and he's stuck running around having to ask dumb questions that should be easily answered by the order sheet. So I'm really just incentivized to try and figure this shit out on my own by process of elimination, while running the risk of getting it wrong.

So yesterday! I had shirts to make. Tags on the side, right? Er, well, there's 2 tags. Well, then, tags on the back neck, right? But wait a fucking second. The technical drawing shows a printed tag (where the tag info is printed onto the fabric directly, for comfort). Maybe the person bundling added 2 tags by mistake? Maybe it's still a side tag, but with 2 labels, for some reason? I have no clue. And helper has gone somewhere. Fuck.

So I sew both tags into the side. I mean why the fuck would they make sure to show a printed tag in the technical drawing if they wanted back neck tags. It takes effort to add the printed tag to the drawing. And if the two tags in the side is wrong, I can blame it on the person who bundled the job for putting in the extra tag.

EXCEPT NOPE WRONG it was back neck tags all along! Apparently I should have seen the two tags and ignored any and all other information and just known to put them in the back neck. I fucking. Hate this shit. Of course when I explained my reasoning, the helper also thought it was weird that the technical drawing showed a printed tag and not a physical tag so he had to run around and be told by the supervisor that yeah, it was supposed to have two tags at the back neck.

Where is this information??? Why does she know where it goes and why is that so different from the context clues?? Also the person bundling must have got that information from somewhere too, how do they know???? WHY ISN'T IT WRITTEN ON THE ORDER SHEET??? GAAAAHHH!!!!!

[is-she-suffering]

13/05/2000 - KERRANG! CONFIDENTIAL

KERRANG! CONFIDENTIAL

This week, get up close and personal with Queen Adreena’s frontwoman Katie Jane Garside.

What is your nickname and why? “No! I’m not prepared to divulge any of them, they’re too incriminating. I can’t do it. Nicknames refer to things about me that I’d rather forget.”

At school, were you a dunce or a teachers pet? “I was very removed. I daydreamed too much. I had a really mixed education; my parents taught me for four years and I went to a really hardcore comprehensive in Poole in Dorset. I did have an art teacher who was amazing. She made it alright to be me.”

What was your first shag like? “Coral gardens, and crystal blue waters. Glue sniffing and babysitting. I’ll say nothing more. I was high in the most gritty way.”

Who is your best friend? “All of my little friends are down in the basement and in the attic. It’s too trite to explain. I have to be abstract.”

What’s the best pet you’ve ever had? “I had a cat we found when we were living on a boat in the Canary Islands. We named him Los Cristianos, after the place he was found in Tenerife. He fell overboard and drowned in the Pacific.”

Have you ever been arrested? “I’ve been strip-searched but not arrested. Flying back from a holiday in Tenerife. I’d gone back as an adult and I couldn’t bear it. I took an early flight home and that alerted suspicions back in England. I was examined. You know the people who do that kind of thing love it. You can see it in their eyes.”

How would you describe yourself on a blind date? “I’d avoid the form and hand over my record. Actually, no, that might attract people even more psychotic than I am. Perhaps it would throw up someone who was at least prepared to stay the course.”

What’s the most extravagant thing you’ve ever bought? “A lifetime of information and misinformation”

Who’s gagging for a shagging? “The primordial mother in the basement. She can never be filled. She’s very frightening. Very emasculating.

Who’s gagging for a smacking? "Nobody. I’m too busy saving my own life.”

What’s the worst job you’ve had? “I learned a lot when I was cleaning lavatories. I got a terrible eye infection and I got paid six pounds a week.

When did you last call home? "I do it as a daily ritual unto myself. My dear family are always on tap.”

What was your most embarrassing moment? “I dance naked with animals, but that’s not embarrassing. The worse moment was when I was at boarding school. It was a terrible regime, like being in the army. I forgot my hymn book and that was the biggest crime against God. As I snaked in, a teacher - one of the only men in the school - shouted at me from behind and I collapsed on the floor and pissed myself. I was so scared. He was very sadistic.”

Who would you least like to see naked? “My alternative job would be to work in a fetish house, and that teacher would come in for a good beating. I’d hand it out with expertise. Theres that whole repulsion/attraction thing going on there. I’d get a kick out of it.

What’s the best rumour you’ve ever heard about yourself? "After I left Daisy Chainsaw (Katie’s previous outfit) Robert Plant asked Crispin what had happened to me because he’d heard I was into golden showers - pissing on people. I don’t know how that got to Robert Plant.”

What’s in your wallet right now? “I have a bag. Theres a copy of Kerrang! to check our review. I have a small bottle of Johnson’s baby powder - it’s my staple diet. There’s a writing book with loads of new songs in. I don’t remember writing this. I was drunk and every word is genius.”

What’s your favourite joke? “I hear them all laughing at me upstairs but I never know what their joke is.”

If you were marooned on a desert island without food, which member of Queen Adreena would you eat first? “My, that implies so much. Billy would be the obvious choice to keep alive, he’s kind of an Adonis. If I needed someone to talk to for a long time I’d keep Crispin alive. We’d have to eat Orson. He’s the best prime cut. He’s exotic and rich.”

Which Queen Adreena song would you donate to a compilation album entitled ‘Crap Songs of Our Time’? “We’re finding our way with our new album, but I’m not going to dismember it. I couldn’t have given more to that album. I could say that every single one of them is crap, but the bit of me that looks after myself isn’t going to let me say it.”

What’s your drug of choice? “Eroticism and sex.”

What does God look like? “A friend of mine’s little boy said to her, 'Mummy, God must be space because theres no beginning and no end’. She’s cultivating a potent child there.”

When you die, how do you want to go? “I want absolution, to dissolve. I want to become sky and ocean. That’s how I want to go. I know it can really be that simple.”

[montymollusk]

last november i stopped working at an office job that was so deeply Corporate™️ it seemed like the setup to a bit. like, every joke you’ve ever heard about a miserable, soul-sucking, completely pointless pencil-pushing job was modeled after this place. management was so afraid of people having personalities that male employees were not allowed to have pierced ears per company policy.

as is somehow Mandatory for jobs like these, anyone in a position of power made it their job to make everyone else’s lives as miserable as possible with constant micromanaging. like, i got told in a strongly worded email to reorder the $2 plastic shelves in my cubicle that i used to store spare paper. it was fucking dire.

but anyways. the reason i quit has to do with what im talking about in the original post. despite the fact that i was consistently at the top of our department leaderboards (yes, we had those, they were emailed out daily) my manager decided that because i couldn’t stay late one day because of a doctors appointment, i needed a Talking To.

he spent an entire day hounding me about this single event, saying that it was a “growing pattern of careless behavior” and that i “forced [my coworkers] to stay until 6 pm”

obviously i felt awful. i was friends with everybody on my team! i didnt want to inconvenience them!! even thought i knew that he was being too harsh, the guilt trip still got to me. but every time i tried to defend myself and explain what was actually going on, he would double down and make it an even bigger issue. this kept going and going until the situation got spun into me being a terrible employee who needed an Action Plan, and i was Ruining The Department, and Everyone Was Going To Stay Overtime Because Of Me.

while i was dealing with this instead of, yknow, actually doing the work that is apparently so dire, i realized… it wasn’t that serious. like, not even fuckin close. the things my coworkers had to do overtime to complete? folding papers. and while yes, it was shitty that they had to stay so late to finish up, i wasn’t the one who made them do it. my manager did! and there were literally dozens of other options to pick from instead, including just leaving the work for me to do the next day! the work we did was nowhere near time sensitive, and certainly not worth the overtime the company paid.

but because i wouldn’t just roll over and accept a chewing out that i didn’t deserve, my manager decided to keep laying on the pressure until i caved. man was assigning legitimately apocalyptic levels of intensity over folding papers. i went from being an asset to the team to getting yelled at by both him and his manager for my “poor performance.”

so i quit. because it’s not that serious.

this whole shitshow is a standard tactic that employers use to trick you into signing away more of your life to the job. make you feel stupid, make you feel like the menial tasks you perform have these dire consequences that simply do not exist. ramp up your anxiety over nothing. they will punish other people because you aren’t slaving away hard enough, and then say that it’s your fault in the first place. you’re not being a team player! you’re not pulling your weight! don’t you see that everyone else is doing their part? don’t you understand what will happen if you don’t contribute?

it is absolutely fucking vital that you don’t listen to any of it. it is even more so that you don’t fall for it when they try to pull this tactic to get you to turn against someone else. the most effective tactic to get someone to fall in line in a workplace is social ostracization. don’t be a tool for your boss to use to manipulate someone else.

it is never that serious.

please please please remember that no matter what your manager says, it is never that serious. unless you are literally performing surgery or defusing a bomb, it simply is not that serious

[thedesirecompany]

4 Ways to Help Consumers Better Understand Your Products

A consumer buys your product, opens it up, and tries it out for the first time. Maybe they use it incorrectly, get frustrated, and want to send it back. Maybe it didn’t fit their process well. Maybe the instructions weren’t clear. Maybe their expectations weren’t quite right. Whatever the case may be, you may have lost a customer and have to process a return.

If you can better educate your consumers and help them understand your product better, this entire scenario can be avoided. Whether you are partnering with explainer video companies, enlisting the help of an expert, or simply showing how to use your product, you can better manage expectations and keep customers happy. Here’s everything you need to know.

Enlist Experts

One of the first steps you can take to better educate consumers about your products is to enlist the help of experts. Who uses your product? If it’s clothing, maybe you enlist professional designers or models. If it’s a kitchen item, find professional chefs who use your product.

When you enlist product review services, look for a strategy that matches you with experts in the right field. Experts are people who use your product, know the use cases, and can help explain the product better than the average consumer. Their review can give your product credibility. Expert testimony shows that they trust your product, and potential customers can expect to do the same.

Post Videos

Reading about your product is one thing, but actually being able to see how it works can take customer understanding to a whole new level. Videos are the best way to present information about your product, especially if they are paired with text.

Working with a video creative agency can help you create the content you need to better inform your consumers about your products. The right partner will connect you with experts and help produce high-quality videos, distributing across both organic and paid social channels. They’re perfect for your own site or other marketplaces, extending your educational reach.

Utilize Demonstrations

How-to videos can easily help manage potential customers’ expectations. They see how to use the product, what to expect, and get a demonstration of different use cases. The key, of course, is using professionals who excel in their jobs as the ones in front of the camera.

They can demonstrate how to use your item because they are the ones who actually use it regularly. They know how and when to use it. They know how the clothes fit, when to wear them, and which other styles to pair them with to create a fashionable outfit. An average user might be able to demonstrate these but not as effectively or authentically as a professional.

Skip the Influencers

You may think influencer partnerships are good for optics due to their following on social media. The problem is that they are not well-versed in your products or designs. They don’t know the use cases, and your products aren’t part of their daily routine.

They might have reach, but they don’t have credibility or authority. They can’t properly teach your potential consumers about the product because they aren’t consumers themselves. The truth is, influencers are not the best choice if you want to educate potential customers and help them better understand your product. Instead, trust the pros.

About The Desire Company

The Desire Company knows that honest advice matters more than ever. They aim to help you harness the power of unscripted truth from real experts at the top of their industry. Thanks to their real-world familiarity with your products, their reviews stand out in the crowd of influencers who don’t even use the products they promote. Instead of a simple creative agency or video production company—The Desire Company is a complete product education solution that combines content strategy, expert vetting, and matching with their vast Pro Community, video embed technology, and media distribution. Expert wisdom is normally reserved for those in the know. But now, you can share it with your potential customers to make sure they stay informed, not influenced.

Find out how the Desire Company can help educate your customers at https://brands.thedesirecompany.com

Original Source: https://bit.ly/3oNuQ4t

[handsomelyhiddleston]

Sticky Notes - Tom Hiddleston x Reader

It all started on the set of Ragnarok. They hadn’t even started filming yet. Table reads, choreography, costume fittings, set development…The cast, crew, and even Taika started finding little notes.

Some were specifically to certain people…

“Your laugh is contagious. Thank you for making this set so down to earth and inviting.” You slipped that into Taika’s (the director’s) fanny pack when he left it on his director’s chair.

“I know how hard you’ve been working on your fight choreography, and I just wanted to let you know you absolutely killed it today!” You left that stuck to Tessa’s (Valkyrie’s) water bottle.  

Some you posted for everyone, like “I know that you all put such amazing effort and time into bringing this movie to life and I just want you all to know that it doesn’t go unnoticed.” That note was posted above a table full of ‘easy to grab’ snacks you laid out such as protein bars, fruit snacks, pretzels, and dried fruit.

This continued well into filming. Everyone had tried to figure out who was leaving these little daily encouragements. It got to the point that Taika started calling you Casper, as in “Casper the Friendly Ghost.” Every day at the start of filming he would say. “Come on guys. Let’s make Casper proud.”

Everyone had a theory. Most thought that it was actually Taika just trying to keep morale up. Taika accused Tom but took it back after some comment about the notes not sounding very British.

Your job on set was to cast extras. While you were present daily, you honestly only had to meet with Taika once or twice a day to make sure the next day’s cast extras were ready. You two fell into an easy rhythm working together and he started asking for your opinion on some other aspects of the set. One late afternoon, after an incredibly chaotic day of filming, Taika decided that he was going to scrap the entire scene and start it over.

He pulled out his phone and sent a text to you, Tom, and Chris. “Today can suck it. I’ve just watched the dailies, and something just isn’t right about that scene. Meet at mine in 30 so we can get ahead of it.” A few seconds later he added, “And for the love of God, someone bring some tequila.”

You laughed at his text, jogging to the trailer you shared with the other casting director. You changed into a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt and grabbed your keys and wallet. You jumped in your car so you could make a quick trip to the Starbucks down the street since it appeared it was going to be a long night.

“One Venti iced coffee with milk and 1 sugar, one Grande Americano hot with cream and 2 sugars, one Venti hot latte with vanilla, and one Venti hot water with two earl gray tea bags and four sugars on the side. Can I also get one of the small kid’s milk boxes?” You heard the barista repeat your order back and pulled forward and paid.

When you got to Taika’s trailer, Tom and Chris were already there.

“Oh, bless you” Taika thanked you, taking the Latte from you.

“You’re the best” Chris said, taking the lid off of the Americano so it would cool off a bit.  

“Tom, I grabbed you tea.” You handed him the hot water and two tea bags, setting the sugars and milk next to him so he could make it to his liking.

“You’re too kind” Tom graciously took the hot water from you, noting that you grabbed his favorite kind of tea.

In Taika’s trailer there was a table with a bench on each side. Chris and Tom were sat on one side, leaving a space for you to sit next to Taika.

“Anyone grab the tequila?” you laughed, dropping your keys and wallet on Taika’s counter and sitting at the table with your iced coffee.

Taika grabbed the bottle and sat it down in front of you. “You’re already two swigs behind, love.”

“Bullshit” you laughed. “Prove it. Where are the shot glasses?”

“I said swigs, not shots” Taika smirked. “We don’t have shot glasses.”

“Look at how much is missing from that bottle. I just bought it.” Hemsworth backed Taika up.

You looked at Tom, knowing he would be honest with you.

“Hey, you trust Tom more than me?” Taika pretended to be offended.

“Tom always looks out for everybody. I don’t think he’d let me get two shots drunker than you fools.” You teased Taika, poking his side and sticking your tongue out at him.

“Watch” Taika said, putting his arm around your shoulders and looking towards Tom. “How many swigs did we all take?”

Tom laughed, “I’m sorry darling, but he’s telling you the truth.”  

“Fine, fine.” You opened the bottle and took three swigs, handing it to Taika. “Catch up, then.”

Tom started thinking about the compliment you had given him as he took his third swig of Tequila. He felt flattered that you felt that way, but it also reminded him of one of the notes he had found stuck to his trailer door.

“Okay, we need to re-block this whole scene. It just did not translate from script to screen…” The four of you worked on a few line changes and mapped out a better way to execute the scene for over two hours.

There was a bit of dialogue that Taika felt was getting lost that he really just didn’t want to let go of. “We may just have to mess with this tomorrow while we’re filming.”

“Or you could have Loki say it instead of Thor.” You suggested.

“Could do.” You could tell that Taika was thinking it over.

“Here you have Thor immediately going into another hard-hitting line” you explained. “If that line comes from Loki, it makes it less likely to get lost.”

“I think that will fix this problem too” Chris started underlining other parts of the dialogue.

“What do you think?” Taika looked at Tom.

“I mean, I personally think Loki has already evolved enough at that point in the script that it suits him quite nicely.” Tom explained in a way only Tom can explain.

“I agree” you said. “You guys make Loki grow quite a bit in this film and as usual, Tom is hitting it out of the park. I’m 100% confident he will have conveyed that message to the audience by this point.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence.” Again, Tom was flattered. However, he was growing more and more suspicious that you were Casper.

“Always” you replied, smiling at Tom as you finished your coffee.

“Let me type this up and we can table read it.” Taika grabbed the papers and went to the other side of the trailer where his computer was set up.

“While you do that, I’m going to steal your restroom for a moment.” Chris stood, throwing his empty coffee cup away and closing the bathroom door. Chris joined Taika a moment later.

“Y/n?” Tom said, kind of quietly.

“What’s up?” Your elbows were resting on the table with your chin sat on your hands.

“Can I ask you something?” Tom didn’t want to bring it up in front of anyone. He didn’t want the notes to stop, but he had to know.

Tom looked a bit serious, but you didn’t know why. “Of course.”

“Are you…” He stopped, reaching his hand into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. “Is this you?”

Your eyes went wide as Tom pulled a small stack of pink sticky notes out of his wallet, laying them down next to each other. There must have been 10 of them in total. You were touched that he actually kept them. Sometimes you felt silly leaving them for people not knowing if they appreciated them. You tried to play it off, laughing. “I thought those were from Taika?”

He pointed at one of them, reading it quietly. “I tried the tea you always drink. I don’t think it could ever replace my love of coffee, but I wanted you to know it pairs well with a good book.” He pointed to another note. “I know you paid for everyone to Uber home after our last night out. I just wanted to tell you I appreciate you. Thank you for always looking out for us.” You could feel his eyes on you as he moved his hand to a third note. “I envy your ability to capture a room. You’ve got an amazing knack for making those watching you feel whatever emotion you’re trying to convey.” When Tom’s hand moved to the fourth note, you heard Taika’s printer turn on.

“Put them away” you said, trying to stack them quickly. Chris started walking towards you and you grabbed the small stack you had gathered and put them in your pocket.

Tom put the rest back in his wallet. “What do you think?” he asked Taika about the changes he had made.

“I think tomorrow is going to be a lot fuckin’ better.” He passed the printed copies around after joining the two of you back at the table.

Tom’s line went over great, and the dialogue flowed much more smoothly. All of the other changes made the scene feel more natural. When Taika called it a night, Chris laid down on the couch refusing to go back to his own trailer.

“Can I walk you to yours?” Tom asked as you stepped out of Taika’s trailer.

The two of you walked back to your trailer in comfortable silence, tired and a little drunk. When you got to the door, you turned around and pulled the pink notes out of your pocket.

“Please don’t tell anyone?” You placed the notes in Tom’s hand.

“I didn’t plan on it” he replied, tucking them neatly back into his wallet.

“I feel silly now that someone knows it was me. Why did you keep them?” You had to ask. You assumed, at most, that people read them, smiled, and threw them away.

“Hmm…” Tom laughed humorlessly, his eyes focused on his wallet. “I think you’re doing a lot more than you realize when you leave your ‘silly’ little notes.”

His response caught you off guard. He almost sounded…sad? Serious?

“Y/n, I’ve had to work with actors and crew that have made filming a project miserable. Whether they were rude or critical or just an absolute diva, there is always someone to bring the room down.” He put his wallet away and looked you in the eyes. “I wish you knew how many of us have kept these notes. Taika has them in the glovebox of his car. The catwalk above the set is covered in notes you’ve left the crew. They’re stuck all over the mirrors in the make-up trailer so that the cast sees them first thing in the morning.”

Your eyes went wide. “What?”

Tom put his hands on each of your arms as if to ensure you were paying attention. “An encouraging word or a genuine compliment can change someone’s entire day, y/n. You have no way of knowing what life has dealt any of these people. They could be depressed or stressed out or wishing they hadn’t woken up that morning…and all of a sudden they receive a tiny bit of kindness from someone and it makes it that much easier to get through another day. Maybe even with a smile on their face.”

Tom wore a soft smile and even though you felt a bit overwhelmed, you couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you for telling me that.” You moved towards him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Please don’t forget it.” Tom pulled back a bit and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “I hope you get a good night’s sleep.”

“You, too.” You watched Tom walk away before slipping into your shared trailer.

Over the next few weeks, Tom had left you multiple green sticky notes with compliments written on them.

“You looked stunning yesterday”

“Thank you for still being a good listener when I go on rants about things you couldn’t care less about”

“Taika was bragging about you to someone on the phone. I just wanted you to know. I know sometimes you hesitate to suggest your ideas, but you shouldn’t.”

“I appreciate how much time you spend making this a better set to work on.”

“You are an incredible friend.”

You’d find at least one note a day and for every note he left you, you’d leave one for him. The two of you got quite a bit closer after he found out about your secret. You’d spend breaks on set together and often times wound up back in Taika’s trailer with him and Chris. You cuddled and flirted and shared more than a few loving glances, but you never went any further. It felt like it was turning into something more, but Tom was such a gentleman you couldn’t tell.

The note you found this morning, however, completely caught you off guard. The filming was almost done and everyone’s time on set was almost over. You had just sat down next to the director’s chair and opened your laptop. There, stuck to the screen, was a green sticky note. “Darling, would you please be mine?”

You looked up at Tom on stage only to find him already looking at you. He lifted his brow and tilted his head, waiting for your response. You couldn’t help but smile as you nodded ‘yes’.

Taika looked between you, noticing the interaction and intentionally teasing you. “Oi, what’s this then?”

Tom turned, trying to hide his grin by talking to Chris. You closed your laptop to hide the sticky note.

“Nah, I saw you two. Don’t pretend like I’m crazy.” Taika was still looking back and forth between you and Tom.

“Maybe you’re still drunk from last night” you teased, putting your laptop in its bag so you could retrieve the note later.

“Oh, sure.” He dropped it, knowing he’d bring it up tonight when you all gathered in his trailer.

The rest of the filming flew by crazy fast. You and Tom had decided that you would go stay with him in New York until the press junkets and interviews started. When the premier rolled around, you two were already publicly dating so you got to escort him down the red carpet. It had been just over a year since the two of you had started dating.

As the credits for the film started rolling, you felt like you were walking down memory lane. So many people go into making movies of this scale and watching all of the names roll by, one by one, really puts that into perspective. You’d met almost all of these people and worked closely with quite a few of them. As the credits came to an end, you saw that Taika had added an extra credit.

The last few “SPECIAL THANKS” credits were in order as listed…

“The filmmakers acknowledge the assistance of the New Zealand Government’s Screen Production Grant”

“The filmmakers would like to acknowledge the Yugambeh and Bundjalung Peoples of Australia”

“The director would like to thank ‘Casper’, Ragnarok’s own personal friendly ghost”

It had been a year since you’d written one of those notes and it caught you off guard. Tom put his arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I told you.”

You and Tom mingled amongst your friends at the after party. Taika was flying. He was so happy with how it turned out and grateful for such a positive response. Everyone in the cast was telling stories from filming and catching up with their friends. By the time you two got back to your hotel room, you were blissfully tipsy and exhausted. You slipped out of your dress and threw on a baggy t-shirt before washing your face and getting ready for bed. When you left the bathroom, you saw Tom sitting on the edge of the bed in his pajamas with a soft, warm smile gracing his beautiful face. He was wearing his glasses and his hair was a mess and he could not have been more attractive if he tried.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, pulling you to stand between his legs.

“Pretty good. How about yourself?” you put your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his.

“I think there’s only one thing that could make me happier in this moment.” He answered.

You thought he was being a bit cheeky, so you replied with, “oh, yeah? I wonder what that could be.”

Tom reached behind him on the bed and pulled out a small box with a worn, green sticky note on top of it. He didn’t say anything, letting you read it. It was the same note he had left stuck to your laptop screen. “Darling, would you please be mine?” Only now the word “forever” was written at the bottom.

[ultramaga]

@theliterarywolf  “I don’t care about the Writers’ Strike because a few of the shows I watched had shitty episodes” Holy cow, a few? I WISH IT WAS JUST A FEW. It’s more like a few shows and movies exist now that aren’t shitty, and they are vilified by the Leftists on this strike.

Hell, I remember the denunciations Alita got! And the film maker himself was pretty far left. They just hated the fact it wasn’t woke ENOUGH.

“ no Starbucks employee should get paid ...because their quality has tanked in the past few years.” Exactly. They should be fired, and replaced with people who can do the job. Or the franchise should fold, because it no longer knows how to make fucking coffee.

“ or treated like a human being “ Where the fuck are you getting that from? I would call it a strawman, but it’s more like a straw exo-planet. It’s just not even in the same solar system as the arguments brought up against the strike. Ok, for the record, every human should be treated as a human. NOBODY IS ENTITLED TO MONEY. You are not entitled to get money for shitty products. Hollywood has crapped out turds, and customers have refused to pay. If you don’t like the Hollywood system, DON’T WORK FOR THEM. Write a book, or stack shelves, or work for uber. But don’t work for them if they refuse to pay what you think you are worth. But here’s the kicker - maybe you aren’t worth what you think you are. If no employer will pay you a million dollars a minute, you are not oppressed, you are delusional. @whistleinthegraveyard “ people don’t realize the connection between overworked underpayed writers being unable to put out good work “ We can hear these writers. All day long. On twitter. Moaning about how everyone outside the Leftist bubble is a Qanon white supremacist Nazi deserving only of death. Hell, this hit the comic book industry a long time ago. The writers spent all day long tweeting instead of working, and then complained that they were expected to meet guidelines. I was there when Dan Slott explained to me that the purpose of Leftism was to erase the white people in all media. The goal of the movement was the total eradication of those it hates - the whites, the men, the straights and so on.  And yes, he had no problem with that. Leftists do not have the capacity to think rationally or see the problem with advocating the genocide of your own demographic. And what garbage do we see pumped out daily? These are the dwarves of german myth, apparently

Don’t forget Coal Black herself. 

Just like they did with Ariel and countless other movies. And just like those movies, the writers have come out and said they eliminating the troublesome heterosexuality, because [STRONG FEMALE PROTAGONIST] don’t need no man. Yep, she saves herself because she is awesome and just needed to realise it.

Whoops, sorry, that one is actually not bad.

KNEEEEL BEFORE ME, WORTHLESS MAN-THING! When I think of Hollywood, I think of Brie Larson explaining how movies from Hollywood WEREN’T MADE FOR YOUUUU.

Ok, but why the fuck do you still expect our money? How the fuck do you expect to get paid, if nobody is buying tickets to movies that are nothing but racist, sexist propaganda? Hell, you know what I wanted to see?

Barnie looked great! Until the makers tweeted how it would all be about how useless males are, and how Barbie don’ need no man. Fuck that noise. Every single thing Hollywood does is just a better made version of Nazi propaganda, with a different target. It exists to spew hatred- not to entertain. With exceptions - 

Low budget films that could easily still be made if Hollywood choked to death on the Hunter Biden cocaine stash. Films that are completely loathed and vilified by Hollywood’s Leftists. https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-features/joker-criticism-fallout-891081/ “ Many claim the film is a romanticization of incel culture. “ Yes, Leftists did. Note that Rolling Stone didn’t have the balls to source the claims. Because what it showed was endless hordes of hacks desperately trying to sabotage one of the few films people actually LIKED.

"I don't care about the Writers' Strike because a few of the shows I watched had shitty episodes"

Under that same logic, no Starbucks employee should get paid or treated like a human being because their quality has tanked in the past few years.

Under that same logic, no nurse should get paid or treated like a human being because of the few who were being obnoxious on TikTok during the Pandemic.

Under that same logic, no one working for an ISP (be it Customer Service or maintenance) should get paid or treated like a human being because of shitty response times.

If you can't understand why that logic is faulty as hell, then could you just admit that you don't see writers as human beings and move along?

[sakrafka]

i wanted a pair of sensory friendly headphones

Tomorrow, March 13 is my birthday.

If you've been following me for a while you might know that I have illnesses, I'm in a bad health state. I'm also autistic and my parents know this but they basically refuse to acknowledge my problems caused by it. My parents, my mother especially believes in "alternative medicine". They insisted I go to some old guy who uses "Chinese medicine". So I went there. He used a machine called "sensitive imago" that works with "bio-resonance" or something. After the examination, a lady came and started wiggling a gem stone on a chain to see which medicines I can take (because the crystal tells her that???). The whole thing was super vague and a complete ripoff. It costed a LOT of money (and we're not exactly rich... more like the opposite). The guy even told me not to go to skull MR because "it's not necessary". He is a scammer who is playing with literal lives.

I've been asking for help for years and what I get is this alternative medicine bullshit. I know my body, I feel what I feel and I'm still not heard. I took things in my own hand last year but since I'm in a very bad health, I need help.

My birthday is tomorrow and I asked my parents for sensory friendly sound cancelling headphones for autistic people. My mother said "the cheaper ones worked fine for me so I don't want to buy this for you".

I can't even begin to explain how wrong is to say that. We sense the world in completely different ways. This is the only thing I asked for for years. I don't ask for money etc. because I try working on my own even though I'm disabled. And they paid for the scam alternative medicine thing but not something that would actually help me. My parents are loving people who mean well, they want to help me by sending me to these people... well I guess they also want me to be healthy so I can look out for them when they get old. They told me that.

My worst symptoms currently is dizziness. I've been dizzy for months, I can not work, I can barely draw and sculpt, I can barely go to university. I feel like my life is in pieces. I'm don't think I'm in a bad mental state because I want to be happy, I want to live and I want to be healthy but being unable to draw, work, live my life like a normal 24 yo is simply devastating.

I'll turn 24 tomorrow and I do all my medical shit for myself now. I'm a young adult but I still need help because of my health state and autism. I live in Eastern Europe and if you're from here you know how bad our health care system is. It's basically almost non-existent.

I need money for private doctors. I'm dizzy, I can't work, I don't get help. I'll go to the MR asap but I don't know if they'll find anything or even care to look at my results. I'm afraid and I want help.

I don't know what to say. I'm scared and I want to be normal and healthy. Not being able to draw and create is probably one of the worst things that's ever happened to me. Art is my life, my joy and my job, since I'm disabled I can only do this for a living but now I can't even make money. I decided to keep my ko-fi open and make a donation link (it can be found in my linktree) as well so if anyone likes my art they can tip me. I'm fine, I can walk/do my daily things, slowly and hard but I can. I'm grateful for the things I have.

I really hope I'll be able to make art with full energy again.

I only wanted to write this because I'll spend my birthday alone again. I just wanted to vent a little but I'm fine. I hope u all have a really nice day

[letarasstuff]

One kind of intern

(A/N): This was requested by @greenslifestuff :) It took me a week or two because I had to interact with my friends in order to get the inspiration I needed 😅 Summary: The team gets to work with a gen z teenager. Let’s see how that goes.

Warnings: Swearing and gen z humour

Wordcount: 2k

✨Masterlist✨

___________________________________

“Team, this is (Y/N) (L/N). She will be interning for the upcoming three months alongside this team. (Y/N), these are Agents Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid and our Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia”, Hotch introduces a teenage girl to his team like this happens every day.

“Wait Hotch, we don’t get interns. What is she going to do, no offense, but getting us coffee or what?” Morgan eyes her suspiciously. She looks like any teenager grabbed from the street. A band t-shirt, a torn pair of jeans and a cup from starbucks in her hands. Nothing you would expect to even enter a federal building.

“No offence taken, Agent Morgan. I know having an ugly pickly bitch working with professionals seems weird. It’s just I have summer break and I thought it would be a good thing on my resumé if I already interned in the FBI, because I just graduated and I wanted to go to the academy this fall. But if you wanna do a vibe check with me first, that’s fine by me. Whatever floats your boat.”

The room falls silent. Then out of all sudden everyone turns to Garcia, who puts her arms up in defense. “I don’t even know half the things she said, ask her yourself.”

That’s how the BAU gets their first contact with Gen Z culture and let me tell you it is a wild ride, so buckle up your seats, drink your tea up because we aren’t going to make any stops.

“(Y/N), I need you to come with me. We are going to the M.E. getting the latest reports from our last case”, Morgan tells her while passing her desk. In the blink of an eye the teenager is ready, putting her denim jacket with various pins and bits of patches on.

“Derek, can we get starbucks on the way back? The pumpkin spiced latte is back on their menu and I am on withdrawal. Pleaaaaaasseeee”, she looks at him with a pouty face. Morgan smiles. “Ok, under one condition: We both get one, take awesome pictures and send them to the group chat and then we act like we didn’t get them anything, but we actually buy them their usual.” He got the hang of it pretty fast. “Deal, Sis.”

While they are in the car on their way to the M.E. the agent groans. “Ugh, road work ahead.” “Uh yeah, I sure hope it does!” Morgan eyes her from the side. His whole demeanor says ‘old and confused’.

“What was that, kid?” But (Y/N) begins to laugh. “Don’t you know vines? Short dumb and funny clips people made?” It’s safe to say that this afternoon he learns to speak in vines, getting on Rossi’s nerves because nothing makes sense anymore.

“Ok, I heard you wanted to become a profiler. So I thought I would show you some old cases and then you try to figure out the profile. I’ll present them to you like I do to the team, alright?” JJ and (Y/N) sit in her office, safe from curious eyes. “As right as the law, Ma’am.” 

“Good, this is a case from several years ago. It happened here in D.C. Three men were murdered execution style in the middle of the night in an alleyway. They were all from different backgrounds. The only connection between them was that they were evicted for some form of sexual harassment or assault. The UnSub also had a signature: A shot into their groin while the men were alive.”

Unfaced by the presented facts (Y/N) pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “It do be like that.”

“What?” “I mean, it’s obviously a woman. She experienced any harassment or assault herself. She also has excess to the files, I assume she works as a paralegal, since most of them are women. Female serial killers are extremely rare, but they are better organized. The only thing left to say is good for her getting revenge.” The blonde looks at the teenager with wide eyes.

“I-I guess but you know you can’t say anything like that to Hotch, do you?” She asks concerned. “JJ, I’m dead inside, not dumb. I know this.” But the agent shrugs. “Good. Though I really want to see his face.” “Mood.”

Penelope Garcia is the closest one to relate to Gen Z culture, since a great part of her time is spent on the internet. She happily learns about all the phrases and their meanings as well as the newest trends and hypes.

“Purp is sus, I tell you”, is heard from the lair into the hallway. Spencer and Derek look at each other with concern on their faces. “Do you think they are alright or do we have to-” “IT’S A SELF REPORT I SWEAR PENNY! YOU WORK WITH PROFILERS IN GANDALF’S NAME!” Spencer’s question is answered by that.

“Baby girl, crazy girl, are you doing good? Do you need help or something?” The older one asks warily. But it’s drowned in another screaming match. “I TOLD YOU PURP WAS THE IMPOSTER BUT YOU HAVE TO TELL THEM I VENTED WHEN I DIDN’T! I WANT ALL TIKTOKS I SENT YOU BACK!” “YOU DON’T DARE TO REVOKE MY TIKTOK PRIVILEGES!” “WATCH ME GARCIA!”

“Whoa girls, what about taking a break?” Morgan tries to diffuse the situation. “Yes, I think JJ got new pictures of Henry and Emily brought cookies this morning”, Spencer adds.

The girls, who mere seconds ago were ready to jump each other's throats, look at the other one. “You get the cookies and I go to JJ, deal?” (Y/N) asks. “Deal!” Without sparing the boys another glance they run out of the lair. Their devices are still lit up. A red figure shines into their faces. ‘AMONG US’ is written underneath it. “I think we get too old for this stuff, don’t we Reid?”

Spencer always thought he was young. Of course, his mind is older, but physically he is not that old. But the intern proves him wrong. And boy is he wrong.

“Spencer, is there anything interesting to know today?” (Y/N) takes a seat on his desk, distracting the genius from his paperwork. It is a common occurrence for her to go to him to ask for a fun fact.

“Do you wanna learn something about sloths?” His knowledge (or the writer’s) on this subject is astonishingly big.

“Spill the tea, sis.” “Did you kn- What? But I don’t have tea to spill. And I don’t wanna spill anything, I-” Reid rambles in confusion.

“It’s just a saying, Spencer. There is no deeper meaning to it then ‘Tell me everything about it’. You know, it’s mostly used for gossiping, but I don’t really like to gossip. That’s why I use it in a different context. You got it?” (Y/N) explains it to him in a soft manner, knowing her generation can be complex.

“Yeah, I think I do. Thank you for telling me. I really like the phrase. It has a nice ring. What about you spill the tea about all the phrases you know and I tell you some things from my knowledge?” “I think you got yourself a teacher, genius. But now tell me about the sloths, I love them.”

A few days later Rossi catches her doing some weird moves. “Are you having a seizure or what is your problem, youngster?” Even though he tries not to show it, David took a great liking to (Y/N), thinking of her like a granddaughter. Still, most of her actions confuse the hell out of him.

“I’m practising a dance for tiktok. My friends and I worked on a choreo we wanted to film later. Come here, I can show you.” And that’s what she does in the conference room. The teenager walks him through every move of the choreo, explaining the meaning to it and how it correlates with the song.

“And then you move your arm like that. Exactly like that! You did a great job, David! Are you sure you don’t want to come with me later? We can make you your own account and name it ‘Grandpa-on-tiktok’. You can promote your books over there and it’s a way to float with the trend!”

Seeing her this excited Rossi can’t do anything but agree to the idea. Also, he secretly liked doing the dance thing. It made him feel young again.

“(Y/N), you said you graduated this summer. But your file said you are 16?” Emily asks her one boring day filled with paperwork and countless cups of coffee. “It is what it is”, she mindlessly answers, too focused on filling out the work in front of her.

“I mean yes but how?”

“Emily, smart people exist. I know, coming from me hits different, but here we are.” Finally (Y/N) puts her pen away looking at the raven haired woman.

“What are you talking about? I can’t really follow you.” The more the intern says the more confused gets Emily.

She sighs. “I don’t want to leave you on read here. I kind of am smart somehow. Apparently I was smart enough to skip a grade or two. But it’s no biggie. Many peeps do this, so I don’t sweat it.”

“Even though I feel like you are selling yourself short here, I know you are an incredibly intelligent person. Someday you will be an awesome profiler and any team will be lucky to have you. I really hope we will be the lucky team. But I’m still not sure if this is what I should say in this context.”

“Emily, you are goals. This fam is squad goals. I really hope to be a part of this someday”, (Y/N) admits. “I’m sure Hotch will do his best to get you on the team, you became a great part of it. I can’t imagine a future without you.”

Sadly Prentiss has to get used to a time without the team’s beloved intern. On her last day (Y/N) knocks at Hotch’s door.

“Hey, I wanted to say thank you. The time with you and all the others was amazing and I learned so many useful things for not only the academy but also for my daily life. I really had a glow-up here”, she says after coming in.

Hotch motions towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat, (Y/N). I got something for you. See it as a compensation for not getting paid for your internship. You really did great work and a better job than some agents, who are doing theirs for many years already but don’t know half the stuff you do. You are a valuable member to the team.”

“Wait, you speak in presence tense. I leave you all this afternoon, you know that, do you?” But the Unit Chief only gestures to a white envelope on his desk. Quickly the teenager takes it and reads it.

“Are you serious Hotchner? Because I will cry you a river if you joke”, she threatens him.

“I’m dead serious, (Y/N). Even though half of your talks are difficult to understand, the other half is twice as useful and important. Additionally to that, you are like a fresh breath of air that the team needed. That’s why a place here will be available for you as soon as you graduate from the academy. I trust you that you will pass with flying colors, I had to promise that to Strauss.”

“Of course, Hotch. I swear on my Animal Crossing Island that I will do my best and more. Thank you so much”, she leaps into his arms.

The others watch the interaction from the bullpen, pretending to not get teary eyed. Their favorite Gen Z Kid will come back to them after all.

Taglist:

Spencer Reid

@calm-and-doctor

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Seven. Cooties, Discall, and Flirting

warnings: swearing, also I used the word “flirt” so many times it no longer holds meaning so beware word count: 4k 

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: putting it up here this time!!!! i liked this chap so i hope you do too!!!!! if you didn’t see the missing dms from part 3 (which are now actually in part 3), bugsy agreed to a minecraft date with dream in exchange for karl touring her on his smp!! anyway, enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**********

The frosty air bit at Y/n's skin as she hurriedly shut the car door behind her, starting up her car in an attempt to find warmth as quickly as possible. "Why do I live here?" she asked through chattered teeth, causing Naomi to laugh.

"It's not that cold!"

"I don't know how you're okay with this."

"Do you want me to drive? You're so stiff you'll crash,” Naomi offered as she looked at Y/n.

"I'm fine, I just need to warm up for a second," Y/n assured as she rubbed her hands together in front of the heater.

Naomi giggled and took her hands, rubbing them to help heat them up.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Now hurry up, I have a work meeting in like 30 minutes."

"What?" she gasped, quickly putting her gloves back on. "Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have spent so much time looking at Christmas decorations!"

"I'm just kidding. But Karl will be mad if he has to wait for his food any longer."

"You're seriously the worst." She smacked Naomi's arm and started driving, much less panicked than a few moments prior.

"You love me."

"Whatever. How's your internship going by the way?"

Naomi sighed. "Good. It's really hard to be motivated to go since it's unpaid but it's the last thing I need to graduate so I have to do it."

"But you enjoy it, right? I mean it's what you want to do."

"Yeah, no, I love it. I just wish I was getting paid so I didn't have to work at the grocery store too. I wish I could get paid to play video games like you."

Y/n deflated slightly. She hated when people put it like that, it made her sound like it wasn't a real job but it was challenging in its own way. "I'll teach you how to pvp and you'll be on your way to the top."

"Maybe then I could actually meet George myself instead of waiting around for you to do it."

"Wait!" Y/n gasped. "Did I not... did I not tell you about the other night?"

"Uh... I guess not? What happened?"

Y/n squealed. "Dude! Make a Discord account right now. Get your phone out and make one."

"Why? What is that?"

"It's the thing we all use to voice call during streams and in private and stuff. Come on!" Y/n used her right hand to urge Naomi to grab her phone. "George said you can't have his number but you can have his Discord."

"Wait, really??" Naomi gasped. "Wait, what does that mean!? I can talk to him on it!?"

Y/n laughed. "Yes, yes! You can text or voice call or even video call but I don't suggest that right away. Don't scare him away."

"He really said he'd add me back? Wait, when did you talk to him about me?"

"On Dream's stream. After the movie, I went and talked to them for a few hours."

"Is that why I heard you giggling at four in the morning?"

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up. "Okay, well, that was just with Dream. George and Sapnap left the call around one and two."

"Date."

"Sounds to me like someone doesn't want GeorgeNotFound's Discord..."

Y/n saw Naomi cower shyly. "Sorry. Please give it to me."

"I don't know it off the top of my head, silly. So be nice for the rest of the car ride and I'll get it when we get home."

"Is Karl meeting us at our apartment or his?"

"Ours. Can you tell him we're almost there?"

"I don't know if I have the strength to... talk to someone who's such good friends with... my love..." Naomi started with a dramatic sigh, "it just reminds me of the pain I go through daily... without him..."

"If that were true, you couldn't talk to me. I'm also good friends with Mr. Not Found."

Naomi threw her head to glare at Y/n, who just laughed. "Come on, text Karl. Please. His food will get cold."

Y/n watched as Naomi typed away on her phone. Soon, the two pulled up to their apartment complex and headed upstairs. Y/n turned the corner and walked down the hall to see Karl standing at their front door.

"KARL JACOBS! WE HAVE FOOD!"

He looked up quickly from his phone and beamed at them. "My heroes!"

"What are you doing outside, silly?" Y/n asked. "Don't you have a key?"

"Naomi made me give it back after I pulled that prank on you guys last month," he explained as Y/n unlocked the door.

"Well deserved. I still find glitter everywhere."

Y/n set the food on the counter and the other two crowded around. "Thank you, mother, for lunch," Karl joked and kissed her cheek loudly, his love language of physical touch jumping out of him. Y/n grimaced playfully as she wiped her cheek on her shoulder.

"GROSS!!! COOTIES!"

Karl pouted. "I thought we were best fwends, Y/n . Best fwends don't have cooties."

"You do. You're a boy."

Y/n's phone lit up as Karl started going on a joking rant about how Y/n  always is so mean to his affections and he can't help wanting to show his friends he loves them and how she's so mean and, "Y/n you're not even listening to my complaints how are we supposed to be best friends when you're too busy talking to your boyfriend all the time and—"

"Boyfriend?" Y/n looked up quickly, worried he had seen the text from Peter that she just read. He was still trying to convince her to talk to him even after she bluntly told him no and why.

Karl walked over to the couch with his food and sat next to Naomi. "I was just joking... why, is there someone?" he giggled. "Dreeeaam maybe?"

Y/n shook her head, and her lack of defensiveness made Naomi and Karl look at each other. Normally she turned bright red and stumbled over her words when they joked about anyone being her boyfriend, but she was stone cold silent as her phone continued to illuminate her face.

"Y/n... What's up?" Naomi asked. "Is it Peter again?"

"Peter?" Karl's eyebrows raised and his food almost fell out of his mouth. "He's been texting you?"

Y/n sighed, locking her phone and sliding it in her pocket before finally joining her friends on the couch. "It's nothing."

"No, it's not."

"He wants to talk," Y/n mumbled.

"What?" Karl asked genuinely.

"I said he wants to talk."

Karl just stared for a few moments before looking at Naomi, who nodded, then back at Y/n. "You're not going to, right? Right? You've got to be kidding me, Y/n, he's a selfish dick and he's just going to keep hurting you. Why do you keep giving him the benefit of the doubt when he's proven time and time again that he's nothing but a fuc—"

"Karl!" Y/n interrupted. "I'm obviously not going to talk to him."

Karl's face flushed, probably embarrassed that he had assumed the worst and ranted. He sighed, exasperated. "Why don't you just block him already?"

Y/n shrugged. "He's harmless now that I don't let his words get to me."

"I'm just glad you finally decided not to meet up with him," Naomi said.

Y/n  shrugged like it was an obvious choice, but deep down she couldn't help but think about the exact reason she had come to that decision. Besides all the pain he had caused her, how could she consider getting back together with her ex when she finds herself giddy about talking to someone else over Discord? Simple: she couldn't. The possibility of liking Dream briefly crossed her mind, and she knew that in the few weeks she had talked to him, the faceless man she had never met in real life made her feel better about herself than her ex-boyfriend ever did in the two years they dated. She wasn't sure quite what that meant, but she knew it was something.

"Can I have George's Dis...call or whatever it's called now? Please?"

Y/n laughed at the failed attempt at remembering the name of the application and pulled out her phone, directing Naomi on where to add friends and listing off his name and hashtag. Naomi then gave Y/n her name so she could tell George who to add back. "There, now leave me alone about George for the rest of your life."

Naomi giggled giddily before going to her room, eyes glued to her phone for the moment he would add her back.

"I'm sorry for being so bossy when it comes to Peter," Karl muttered.

Y/n shrugged and cuddled into the couch, hugging a pillow to her stomach. "I get that he was awful, but you have to trust me to know what to do."

"I do! I promise I trust you but..." Karl paused to groan, "but he just makes my blood boil. I've never hated anyone in my life but I would love to slice his head off if I ever got the chance."

"Thank you for being protective, but I promise I can handle myself."

Karl looked at her sadly. "Why did you stay with him for so long? Even after he cheated on you and said all those horrible things?"

She shrugged shamefully. "I had no one else."

"You had me and Naomi! Y/n, you've never been alone."

"That's not what I mean, Karl. I love you guys so much but it's not the same as dating someone, you know?"

"I guess..." he sighed. "But wouldn't you rather be alone than with someone who's so possessive you're afraid to tell him about your real job?"

Y/n dropped her shoulders. He had a point. She really shouldn't have stayed with Peter as long as she did. He was scary. "Yeah."

A scream from the other room snapped them out of their serious conversation. "HE ADDED ME BACK!"

Y/n laughed and Karl shook his head. "Poor George. He's about to regret so much," she predicted.

"Noooo... I'm sure he and Naomi will get along great," Karl argued. "They'll be friends at least."

"Maybe. Hey, any updates about cameragirl?"

Karl blushed immediately and Y/n smiled.

"Is that a yes??"

"I... may have... finally spoken to her. Y/n, she's so cute. Like, she's so nice and I want to protect her from everything."

"What did you guys talk about?!" Y/n gasped, sitting up quickly.

"You're going to be so disappointed in me..."

"Did you talk about Sonic the Hedgehog again? Karl, I swear—"

"No! But I only said like two words."

"What two words?"

"Um, I said hi, and then she asked how I was and I said good."

"KARL!"

"I know!" he said as he buried his face in his hoodie sleeves. "I'm the worst! I don't know how to talk to her! She's so cute!!!"

Y/n laughed endearingly and pulled his hands away. "My offer still stands, I'll teach you how to flirt if you want."

"No, I still don't believe that you can actually flirt."

"I totally can, but fine. Ask Naomi to help you if you don't trust me. She'd teach you if you want." Y/n looked down at her phone as it lit up with notifications from Twitter.

As if he knew by the smile on her face who it was, Karl challenged, "Flirt with Dream to prove you can."

"I have nothing to prove to you," Y/n mumbled, standing up. "But he wants to call me so I'm going to my room. You're welcome to stay here or go home since Naomi's still in her room too."

"Mkay," Karl said. "I'll just stay here for now. Thanks again for the food."

"No problem, dude." Y/n disappeared to her room and opened Discord on her computer, waiting for Dream to call her. She answered when he finally did.

"Hi, Dream," she smiled into her headset.

"Hi, Bug. What are you up to?"

"Nothing. I was just explaining to Karl how good I am at flirting because he doesn't believe that I'm good."

"I don't either."

"What?" she laughed. "Why does no one think I can? Have you seen all the thirsty people flirting with me on Twitter? You included."

"Yeah, but you hardly flirt back. You just insult us."

"I can flirt when I want to."

"Prove it."

"...I don't want to."

"Why? Because you can only flirt with your boyfriend?"

"Are you trying to get me to admit I have a secret lover?"

"Yes."

"Well too bad, I don't."

"Interesting... so you," he paused, careful with his words, "so you decided... not to listen to whats-his-face?"

"Mhm," she hummed, not trusting her voice to stay steady. Why was she nervous? She crossed her fingers hoping that he wouldn't ask how or why she came to that conclusion. She didn't have a lie ready to hide the fact that it might have something to do with Dream.

"Then there's no reason you can't flirt with me."

Y/n sighed dramatically but still smiled. "Why did you call me? Just to make fun of my flirting abilities?"

"No, I called because I'm bored."

"Wow, so I'm just a backup when GeorgeNotFound and Sapnap are busy?"

"Actually, I called you before I tried either of them."

"Interesting..." she mocked him and he scoffed.

"Stop changing the subject and flirt with me!!! Give me your best pickup line!! Why won't you?"

"How about because I reserve flirting for people who deserve it?"

"Oh, it's that good, huh? You have to be on a VIP list to be flirted with by you?"

"Yeah," she laughed, completely joking. "It's life-changing."

"How do I get on that list?"

"Why do you want me to flirt with you so bad, you weirdo?"

"Because you said it's life-changing! And because I just don't believe that you're good at flirting."

"Why? What about me screams that I'm an awkward mess?"

"Everything!" he laughed. "Every time I've witnessed anyone flirt with you you just get all embarrassed and change the subject. Or on Twitter when we flirt with you, you almost always just reject us outright. People like that aren't smooth."

"Fine. I'll flirt with you, Dream. Not now but when you least expect it and it'll leave you so speechless that you'll never question me again."

"Good. I'm excited."

She snorted lightly and shook her head. "You're ridiculous."

"Oh, hey, you know how I said Sapnap, George, and I wanted to do a big hangout thing with everyone?"

"Yes! Is it happening??"

"Yeah! We still don't know exactly when but George mentioned he thinks New Year's Eve and New Year's Day are stupid holidays so we want to get everyone together in person for that to prove it's a great holiday."

"I mean... I'm kinda with George on this one," Y/n agreed.

"What?! How? It's the start of a New Year! It's an excuse to kiss someone and you start the year with all your friends and loved ones and-"

"It's literally just another day. The only thing that changes is people accidentally put the wrong year when they write dates down for the first month."

Dream laughed. "That's stupid. No. It's a good holiday."

"Whatever. You'll just have to prove to me that it's good."

"I will."

"And the thing you said about having an excuse to kiss someone is stupid. If you wanna kiss someone, just kiss them."

"That easy, huh?"

"Yes."

Dream hummed thoughtfully, a mischievously playful tone to it that made Y/n change the subject slightly to spare her heart from beating too hard.

"So he's coming for New Years'?"

"Okay, yeah, so he doesn't know exactly what date but we're trying to get as many of our friends as we can to come so we have to plan around everyone. Also obviously you and Karl and Naomi are invited."

"Oh, Naomi too? Good, because I think they're talking to each other right now."

"They are," Dream laughed. "George texted me when she added him and he panicked because he doesn't know how to talk to girls."

"What?!" Y/n gasped in offense. "That's his and my thing! Why didn't he text me panicking??"

"He said he was going to text you but since it's your friend he felt awkward."

She grunted. "Fine. I guess that makes sense. Except, I know her better than anyone so I'd be waaay more helpful than you."

"You saying I don't know how to talk to girls?"

"I mean, you've used so many pickup lines on me on Twitter and I'm still not wowed, so yeah, I'd say you aren't as smooth as you'd like to think."

"Bug! What?! I'm totally good at talking to girls," Dream tried to defend, pulling excuses out of his ass. "I just haven't used my best tactics because you're easier to scare away than most. As I said, you can't dish it or take it so I have to use special moves."

"They still haven't worked." The quick beating of her heart and shaking of her hands informed her that that was a lie. Every time he replied to her tweets, the painful grin on her face proved it was a big, fat lie. Maybe she was a little impressed at his "special moves" but she wasn't going to ever admit that to him.

"Whatever, you liar. Anyway, we were thinking of renting a cabin on a lake or something like that for everyone to stay in."

"Oh! Yes, that sounds so fun! I love lake houses so much."

"Good. I'm gonna talk to George and the other brits and see if that's doable. It's gonna happen. I promise. I'm tired of not seeing my friends."

"Wait, how many people are you guys thinking? I'm still nervous about showing people my face..."

"It's a rough list but basically Sapnap, George, Quackity, Karl, Wilbur, Niki, um, Tubbo, Tommy, who else.... I think that's it right now. We'll make sure you know them and are comfortable with them so you don't feel pressured to show strangers who you are."

She nodded to herself. "Okay. I could also just not come if I'm not comfortable with someone—"

"What?!" he asked loudly, genuinely surprised. "Wha— no. We just wouldn't invite them."

"But—"

"I'd way rather have you there than anyone else. Hell, I'd kick George or Sapnap out if you didn't want to show them your face."

"Wait, really?"

"No pressure but I really want you to come and I want to make sure your comfortable."

"What if I don't want to show you my face?"

There was a long pause and Y/n knew he was trying to control his voice so she didn't know he was disappointed or slightly offended. "I mean... I don't know. I guess I... wouldn't go."

Her heart cracked at the sadness in his voice.

"I really don't want you to be pressured into—"

"Dream," she said. "It's okay. I'm probably most comfortable with meeting you over anyone else."

"Really?"

She didn't trust her voice not to sound too sappy and giddy. She didn't trust it a lot when she was around Dream. "Mhm."

"I'm glad," he said happily but softly. "It will be fun. Also, give me your phone number."

"So forward of you, Dream."

"Shut up, I wanna make a group chat."

Y/n laughed and told him her number. "I'm really excited now, Dream! I haven't hung out with people in so long and it sounds like a fun little vacation."

Dream laughed at her excitement. "I just want to hug the shit out of George."

It was Y/n's turn to laugh loudly. "Have you met him in real life yet?"

"No."

"I doubt he'll even let you touch him. He doesn't seem touchy."

"I don't think he is but I don't care. I am very touchy so he won't have a choice but to hug me."

"Ugh, another touchy person. Gross."

"Are you not?"

"Not really. Karl is the touchiest person I have ever met so he's kinda rubbed off on me a little over the years I think, but in general no."

"Oh, yeah, he's already threatened to kiss all of us as soon as we meet," Dream said with a laugh.

"Best to just let it happen. He pouted earlier because I wiped my cheek after he kissed it."

"That doesn't sound like something someone who can flirt would do."

"Because I'm not flirting with Karl!" Y/n groaned but a laugh was behind her words. "What is with you guys?"

"You just can't be on Karl and my level of flirting if we don't see it! Can't be in the gang if you don't show us your skill."

"Just you wait, Dream. You'll see."

"Wait, what about our Minecraft date?"

"What about it?"

"When we do that, you have to flirt with me!"

"No, I don't," she protested with a loud laugh.

"Um, I'm pretty sure it's very rude to not sweet-talk your date. You have to flirt with me then."

Y/n giggled. "Oh yeah? And what if I don't?" She hadn't meant for her voice to come out laced with something suggestive, but if Dream noticed, he thankfully didn't show it.

"Well, we'll just have to keep going on dates until you do."

"Pretty sure forcing someone on dates is illegal, buddy."

Dream laughed. "You agreed to it!!"

"I agreed to the first one," she corrected. "I agreed to one date in exchange for you letting Karl tour me around your server. One."

"Don't worry." Unlike Y/n's, Dream's voice was purposefully laced with something suggestive as he told her, "after our date, it won't take much for you to agree to more."

"Oh whatever," she scoffed, trying to cool her face down with her icy hands. Even they were no match for the heat on her cheeks. "When are we doing this stupid thing anyway?"

"Ah, the smooth talking has begun, I see."

"Dreeeamm..." she whined, growing increasingly tired of the butterflies in her stomach. Why did she suddenly feel so nervous around him? It's not sudden, she told herself.

Dream's cute laugh interrupted her thoughts. "What about tomorrow?"

"I'm streaming Among Us tomorrow."

He groaned. "You never make time for me."

"I cannot stand you," she joked, laughs slipping through her annoyed voice and blowing her cover. "You're the one who said you were too busy to join my lobby. So really you don't make time for me."

"No, no, no," he protested. "I'd make time for one-on-one time with you, just not a game where I hardly get to talk to you."

"Oh my gosh." She rolled her eyes. "How did you turn this around to sound cute again."

"Aw, Bug, you think I'm cute?"

"You ruined it by asking. What are you doing tomorrow anyway?"

"I have to finish a plug-in by tomorrow night so George and I can test it. There's still a lot to fix so it'll probably will take all day."

"Oooh," she cooed. "What's it do?"

"It changes the world every time we take damage," he explained with a hint of pride in his voice.

"What the! That sounds awesome!"

"Thanks," he said shyly, proudness gone now that he was being complimented. "Anyway, George is really busy next week so we have to test it tomorrow night so we can record the next day."

"You probably should finish it then."

"Or you could cancel your stream and we could go on a date."

"Dream!" She laughed. "No! How about next week. Between you editing the video you record, we go on a Minecraft date. How's Thursday?"

"I guess I could fit you into my schedule..."

"I hate you."

His cheeky grin could be heard through his stupid words. "Keep telling yourself that."

PREVIOUS | NEXT

A/N: *sniff* *sniff* yall smell a hater in those twitter screenshots?? hmmm..... 

taglist: OPEN (At the time) (if your blog is in bold, i couldnt tag you, so check your settings so that blogs that dont follow you can tag you!!)  @hydrate-tion​ @loraleiix​ @tinaswagbd​ @charsdummb​ @smileyyuta​ @1ghoste1​ @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge​ @queestionmark​ @carnations-red​ @letsloveimagines​ @the-fictionwriters-hairdo​ @boiled-onionrings​ @a-cryptic​ @fee-btheweeb​ @erwinss​ @just-a-stan​ @axths​ @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad​ @sometimeseverythingsucks​ @powerpuffyn​ @itshaileyn​ @millavalntyne​ @automaticcomputerpaper​ @nikkineeky​ @fivedicksinatrenchcoat​ @sprucekot​ @jabby16​ @mae-musicbitch​ @hungoverhellhound​ @dreamyteam​ @kuroo-icedtea​ @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot​ @fangeekkk​ @haseulreturns​ @queenwastaken​ @peteysgf​ @losingvienna​ @bi-narystars​ @zero-nightshade​ @erinitoburrito @sparklykeylime​ @youhyakuya​ @danny-devitowo​ @clubfairy​ @loser-keiji​ @oi-itsemily​ @alm334​ @katastrophe-kam @wreny24​ ​ @unicornblood4ever @brendalopez99 @spacecluster @justonemoreepisode199 @strawbrinkofdeath @aha-red​ 

[ezgithechaotic]

pushing up the dasies . peter parker

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Peter Parker x female reader

summary: Someone has been stealing Y\N's flowers, and she is determined to find who it is.

warnings: she\ her pronouns (don't know if this one's a warning), mention of the death of a loved person, graveyard

author note: I’m sorry in advance if I have any fault. English is not my first language. But please let me know if you see anthing that doesn’t seem right. I really have no idea if this is good or trash. I’m getting mixed signs. So, please leave a comment about what you think, love you.

As a comic book nerd, I personally love both Andrew and Tom's Spiderman. Just thought this story fit Andrew's more, but feel free to imagine Peter as your favorite! 

masterlist 

The first time you realized a few flowers were picked from your garden, you didn't think much into it. The kids around the neighborhood liked to play hide and seek around your garden. You thought; it should be Thompson's girl, she likes flowers. It wasn't something that never happened before. You would simply plant new ones, it was no big deal, you could never get angry at children. But after some time, you started to realize the pattern. Every month on the same day, you found a handful of your daisies gone upon returning from your part-time job. Mrs. Thompson swore her daughter would never do such a thing without asking, and after the third time, you were sure somebody was stealing your flowers. Maybe it was that gruff man across the street that never got along with people. But you had a feeling if he had to do anything with your flowers, it would only be blowing them up. 

Peter always wondered whom the pretty flowers and house belong to. The post box just outside the garden said Y\L\N, and he had always imagined an old sweet woman lived in the white-painted house with a green door. And Peter hoped he didn't make the poor woman too sad with missing flowers. Boy, was he wrong. You weren't old, and you were furious and determined to find the person who stole your beautiful daisies. 

Your friends always wondered why you liked living in such an old neighborhood. The house was one of the few things your mother left you after she died, along with the considerable amount of money in your bank account. You could always sell the house, find an apartment downtown, so you can be closer to school that's what your friends told you every time you had them over. But you loved the house. You loved that the house held so many memories of your childhood, especially your garden. Even though your mother was a busy woman, she had always made time for you and her flowers. At the age of six, growing flowers with your mother quickly became one of your favorite pastimes. That week you did what everyone would do, changed your shift with Mary Jane to catch the flower thief. 

So, no, selling the house or letting strangers steal your lovely flowers was not one of the many choices. 

Now, Peter Parker was many things, but not a thief. Well, it depended on what you would call stealing. Surely picking a few flowers from a random garden couldn't count as stealing. And God knows he wouldn't do it if he weren't penniless. Trying to survive college and paying for an apartment didn't leave him much. The money The Daily Bugle paid was shit. He had been selling photos for the damn newspaper since high school, but it was no use, Peter had to find a job that paid more than The Daily Bugle. And there was no way he was going to ask Aunt May for money, even though she would be happy to give him some. But that was another day's concern, for now, the only thing he needed to do was be quick. Because he knew if you found out that it was him who was stealing, sorry picking, your flowers he sure wouldn't be able to swing away this time. 

Peter honestly felt guilty about your flowers, they were lovely. And he knew this was a safe neighborhood, so he had no way of paying you back with saving you. He had been visiting Gwen every month since her death. It was one of the few things he could keep up with after he graduated high school. Daisies were Gwen's favorite. Peter knew he could easily find another place to pick the flowers, but he believed that there was something magical about the garden. He felt so much love around the house. Maybe it was a silly thing, but Peter thought Gwen would have loved that garden. 

Y\N had been sitting on her porch, hiding behind the dark blue armchair, actually too anxious to face the flower thief. You felt childish after some time. It was just a few daisies, right? There was no need to act like a crazy woman. As you were getting ready to go back inside, you saw him. He had an average height, brown messy hair. He was wearing a black t-shirt and an unbuttoned baby blue shirt with a greenish-brown jacket. Y\N's anger turned back the minute she saw him touch the flowers. 

"You, flower thief!" 

A moment before, Peter felt like his whole body was on edge as if bells were ringing in his brain. But he was already late to realize she had been waiting for him and there was no way to run, he wasn't wearing his suit. Where were the damn spider-senses when he needed them the most? So, he just stood there, speechless, his hand hanged above the daisies. She was pretty, as pretty as the flowers before him. Guilt heating his face, Peter couldn't help but stare at you with his eyes wide open like a dumbstruck idiot. He felt like his lunch was climbing its way back up. 

You were now, standing few steps away from him. "You've been stealing my flowers for months!" 

Peter held his hands up in defense. "Look, I can explain." 

Y\N put her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation. Your heart beating like crazy. Even though it was still bright and you were in the middle of a road, he was a man. A man taller and despite looking skinny, stronger than you. But you hold your face as still as you could.  

"Go on then." 

Peter couldn't find the words to explain. What was he going to say? Sorry, I thought my dead girlfriend would love your flowers so, I've been stealing them, I hope you don't try to kill me. No fucking way. His mouth opened and closed few times, making you sigh. You realized the boy wasn't going to give you any answer. He was probably taking them to his girlfriend or boyfriend. 

"Are they pretty?" you asked, dropping your hands. Peter, very confused, kept on staring at her. You rolled your eyes at how silly he was. "The person you're taking my flowers to." Something at the back of your mind hoped he would say they were for his mother. Now that you were closer you could see the sweet hazel color of his eyes. 

"Um-" His hand went up, scratching his neck. "She is." 

She was.

He shuffled through his pants pockets. "I have a photo-" 

"No." You stopped him. "I want to see if she is pretty enough for my daisies." 

"What?" Peter tried to grasp his head around the idea. 

"I want to see her and tell her that her boyfriend is a thief. C'mon." 

"I don't think-"  Peter was getting anxious, now. How was he supposed to tell you that her girlfriend was dead? 

"Of course you don't think." You started walking. "C'mon, now. Take the flowers." 

Peter didn't know what to do so he went with it. What could go wrong, right? 

"I'm sorry," Peter said after some time. "I have no excuse for what I did." 

His head hung low, watching his steps as he walked. He knew he would stutter if he looked at your face. Peter had a habit of getting tongue-tied around pretty girls. And, well, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Mind you, he wasn't even thinking about Gwen anymore, which made him feel kinda guilty. 

"It's okay." You had your hands in the pockets of your jacket. "My life's been boring lately. You were the only exciting thing, I guess." 

"I'm sure you have more exciting things than me." Peter still didn't look at you but you could see him smiling.

"It's Y\N, by the way." You kept your eyes on him. "If you wanted to know the name of a woman you constantly robbed."

He laughed. "Peter, Peter Parker." His eyes finally met yours. It was ridiculous, how easy it was to just look at his face and feel safe even though he was a stranger. His smile grew even more. It was almost contagious, his smile. He had something about him that made you wanted to scream and purr like a cat at the same time. You felt yourself getting overwhelmed, he was making you weak at the knees. So, you pulled your eyes away from him. 

Pull yourself together, woman! He has a girlfriend.

You were too distracted to realize where was Peter taking you until you arrived. It was the same route you took whenever you felt like talking to your mother. Peter and you were standing just outside of the graveyard. Your head whipped around, turning to Peter. He had a soft smile on his face. 

"Peter, I-" 

"It's okay." 

"No, It's not okay." You took a deep breath, pressing your palms into your eyes. "I'm such a dick." 

"No, you were just mad at me." 

You slouched your shoulder, didn't know what to say. What would even one say in this situation?

"C'mon." Peter's warm hand was gently holding your arm, now. "Let's go see her." 

You didn't talk until you arrived at the tombstone. Peter put the flowers in front of it. 

"Daisies were her favorite." He had a sweet look on his face, he put his hands back into his pockets. 

"They were my mother's favorite, too." You murmured, but Peter could hear you perfectly. "I think that's why I overreacted you picking the flowers. I wasn't thinking." 

"Oh, It's not stealing anymore, then?" He teased. "It's okay, honestly. She would've liked you. You have that fire in you like you could make the world better just with a gesture of your hand. She liked that kind of people, that can light the room with their smile." 

"I think I would've liked her, too." You said, your eyes on the tombstone.

Gwen Stacy. 

Her name was familiar to you. You didn't know where, but you were sure you had heard before. Still, you didn't ask Peter anything, assumed he wouldn't be comfortable talking about it. You didn't say anything until you were out of the graveyard. You knew you would come back tomorrow to see your mother, but with Gwen on your mind. 

The more you looked at his face the more you could see him. Peter wore his heart on his sleeve, he was easy to read. "You blame yourself." You said, nodding your head slowly. You smiled after seeing the face he made. "It's okay, I know the feeling." 

"Your mother?"

"Yeah." 

Neither of you talked for a long time. Peter could tell you weren't ready to talk about it. He knew it wasn't easy to open up, especially to a stranger. It'd been years since he talked about Gwen, so, he knew the feeling, too. 

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was a message from Mary Jane.  "Just arrived home, you owe me." 

"That's it!" You exclaimed, remembering your talk with Mary Jane. "That's how I knew her name!" 

Peter, looking very confused, asked you. "What?" 

"Gwen, her name was very familiar." Pocketing your phone again. "I have a friend, Mary Jane, who went to the same high school with Gwen. I've seen her in the yearbook. That's where I recognized her name." 

"You know MJ?"

"Oh, yeah," you laughed. "We met in Brooklyn, probably four years ago. I think it was very late, some guy was trying to get her number even though she said no, like five times. And I hadn't had the best day of my life. So, I punched the guy and told him to leave her alone. We have been friends ever since."

Peter was amazed. He didn't know how much cooler you could get. 

"You know her, too?" 

"Yeah, We've been friends for a long time. My aunt kinda tried to set us up."  

You laughed. Peter and Mary Jane seemed like two opposite characters. You would never imagine them together. But again, maybe Peter's pretty face was affecting your judgment. You didn't know. He made your mind foggy. At last, you found yourselves at your front yard again. Your eyes wandered over the empty spots that daisies left. 

"Would you like to get a coffee sometime?" Peter was leaning against white fences that surrounded your garden. He had that sweet smile on his face again. "So I can pay you back for daisies."

You bit your lips to stop yourself from smiling so much. "Gwen was pretty enough for them. You can have some once a month when I'm not looking." Peter was feeling like you were about to turn him down. Both of you knew this wasn't really about the damn flowers. But again, Peter was every so often wrong about these kinds of things. "But you know, maybe not Saturdays. I'm usually free for a cup of coffee on Saturdays." Peter was ready to feed himself with only pasta for a week if it meant he would get to see you again. 

You could visibly see Peter's eyes liting up. "Just one cup?" 

You shrugged. "Tea is fine, too." 

"I didn't know MJ had friends like you." He said, intensely watching your every move. 

"Like me?" You were so sure something bad was coming, he was simply too good to be true.

"You know, this beautiful. If I had known, I would have visited her more."

"Wow, you are hiding a monster under that pretty face, don't you?"  

[ellana-ravenwood]

“My fake boyfriend is a billionaire ?!” - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : After a few shitty weeks of everything going wrong, you somehow find yourself faking a relationship with the one and only Bruce Wayne. 

That’s it. I did it. After 3 years posting stories on this platform, I finally succumb to one of the biggest fanfiction cliché of all time haha. The infamous fake boyfriend trope. And I really hope you will like it : 

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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The Gap Year of Disaster

Today, you were an utter mess, and you couldn’t care less.

You know, this kind of days where you wish you would just have stayed in bed ?

Where everything goes wrong and you just want to hide under your blanket and pretend you don't have any responsibilities ?

Well today…Today was most definitely this kind of day.

It was suppose to be your first day at an exciting new job and you were so psyched about it, that you hadn’t been able to sleep all night. 

You finally fell into a deep slumber during the very early hours of the day, and…

Of course you woke up late ! You didn't have time to take a shower, or to do your make-up nicely or even to brush your hair. But worst of all you didn't have time to get coffee !

When you got out with your bike….it was pouring outside. Ah but of course, because when one thing goes wrong everything has to follow. Everything WILL go wrong. Murphy's law or some stupid things like that !

It's in those moments you wish you had a car ! Because when it rained in Gotham…It felt like Noah was ordered to built another ark !

So, sleep deprived, soaked, in a bad mood and looking like a mess, you managed, by some miracle, to arrive at your job on time.

Only to discover that this wasn’t at all what you were expecting. It was NOT what was promised to you, which was experience in an exciting workplace and a way to make the most of it. 

Instead, it was a desk job where you ran errand for everyone. Amazing. 

This was supposed to be your first try at “real life”, this was why you took that gap year from college. 

“I want to find myself, find who I really am !” You told everyone around you, ignoring those who were negative and telling you you should finish your study first. 

Now, as you were stuck in a tiny cubicle with an endless list of coffee orders you had to get for everyone else, you felt like maybe they were right, and that this wasn’t quite the way you were going to “find yourself”. 

Then again, wasn’t it through hardship that this sort of things unlocked ? Wasn’t it with great determination and knowing how it was to struggle, that you were going to thrive ? That’s what they said in TED talks dedicated to “success”...

So far in your life, things had been rather normal. Not particularly easy, but not hard either. You grew up in a small town in New Jersey, no troubles on the horizon. You then moved to Gotham for college as you had a scholarship for Gotham’s University, and as you were about to start your third year you sort of questioned wether or not this was your path...

One of your favorite professor told you to maybe take a gap year. A few semesters off, to think things through. Taking advantage of it to do some soul searching and try to know what you really wanted and...It sounded wonderful ! 

That’s when you started to have job interviews in many different fields, and it took you three months to finally find something. Three very stressful months of wondering how long you could live off of your measly savings, and wether or not you’d have to move back in with your parents (anything but that !)...Not a very good start to that gap year for sure. 

And when you landed what you thought was going to be a great job, things definitely were looking up ! Ah, but the fact that you were chosen while you had NO experience and such, should’ve been your first warning that this was too good to be true. 

You were trying to stay positive though. Maybe it was only for the first day ? Maybe their coffee person was sick or something ? It’d get more interesting later ? Yes. Yes let’s keep a positive outlook on everything. 

Except right now, as your entire morning was made of you walking up and down the building (the elevator was not working, but of course), to the coffee shop at the corner of the street, and bringing back orders for people, you didn’t feel in the mood to try and stay cheery. 

And the worst in all that ? You didn't even get ONE cup for yourself…This “real life” thing was not starting very well. 

And so here you were, during your lunch break, looking like a mess, bag under your eyes and still wet from the rain (your trips up and down the street for coffee runs not helping drying yourself off), your morale at its lowest..And…

"That'll be 3 dollars and 50 cents for the large latte with triple espresso shot, m'am."

Catastrophe. 

Proof that things could ALWAYS get worst. 

As you were looking through your bag, you couldn't find your wallet !

Did you leave it at home ?! Maybe. 

People at your work gave you the money to buy them coffee (and not a single tips, bunch of cheapskates). And you didn’t notice you were missing that oh so essential part of your daily life...Your credit card. Or any type of money. 

Damn it ! 

“Um, excuse me miss, that’s 3,50 please ?”

“Oh yes yes, um, you know what I just-” 

“Here, miss, you dropped this.” 

As you were about to explain that in fact, you didn’t need coffee (even if when you asked for it you might’ve mentioned it being a question of “life or death”), too embarrass to admit you didn’t have the money to buy it, a...very handsome man handed you a twenty dollars bill. 

You were a hundred percent sure this wasn’t yours. You never carry lose cash like this. A quick look to his kind deep blue eyes, and soft smile, and you realize...

Oh. Great. A total (very handsome) stranger took pity of you. 

You probably looked even worst than you felt. You were about to say this was a mistake, but before you could, he gave the bill to the barista, and left with a last smile to you, taking his own cup of coffee away with him. 

Damn. You didn’t have time to say “thank you”. He vanished as fast as he appeared, disappearing in the crowd of the busy coffee shop. 

“Here’s your change, m’am.” 

“Ah you know what ? Keep it buddy. Thanks for the coffee.” 

“Wow, thanks !” 

You were pretty sure that barista never had such a big tip, and it oddly made you feel better, to make someone else’s day like that. Your grandma did always say that you found true joy from helping others...

Oh, yeah, ok, you just helped someone out, why was the universe so angry at you ?! 

As you turned around and started to leave, almost at the exist of the shop, mood a little better after this nice encounter with a (again, handsome) stranger, and the barista, you see him. 

Him. One of the reason you sort of decided to take a gap year. 

Him. 

Your ex-boyfriend, Eric, who cheated on you with your friend Monica. Needless to say, it wasn’t a good memory. And you hadn’t seen neither him nor her since you left college, especially not since you heard they actually got together. 

Your FRIEND. With your BOYFRIEND. And it went on for a while, before you finally discovered it (that day was as shitty as today...). 

Oh. And of course Eric wasn’t alone. She, was there too. The one you thought was your friend, and who stabbed you in the back like that. Both of them discarding you like a dirty old sock. 

Great. Really. Awesome. This day was going from “bad” to “please kill me.” 

“(Y/N) !” 

He looks surprised to see you, although also a little pleased. And it makes you want to punch him in the face. You don’t care if it’s because he wished things ended another way, they both betrayed your truth and then never even tried to talk to you again afterward. 

You’re not sure you would’ve forgave them, but at least, it would’ve shown they still cared about you in a way. Nobody chooses who they’re going to fall in love with (that, you’d soon discover for yourself). But she was your best friend. And he was with you for over a year. 

She’s a little more awkward than him, and smiles, clearly embarrassed. You always knew she was a bit of a coward, if she wasn’t, she would’ve face you, right ? 

And that’s when it happened. The decision that would forever change your life.

In this great moment filled with despair and awkwardness.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw that nice stranger who paid for your coffee. The handsome one. He didn’t leave the shop, but instead went to seat at a table that was a little further away than the rest of them. 

His eyes were glued to his phone, and you thought : “Well, fuck it, all this can’t get any worst right ?”

You were sort of hoping that, since he had been nice with you once and offered you those twenty dollars without knowing you (although you were very aware it was probably just pity), maybe he could help again ? 

Maybe it was the fatigue, the fact you were getting sadder and sadder, that you had a terrible day, and that you just saw two people you loved and who threw you away like you meant nothing (oh but not before being super fake to you, pretending they WEREN’T cheating behind your back)...maybe it was a combination of all of that, that made you act crazy. 

But here you found yourself, sitting at that stranger’s table, and saying, as he looked up from his phone clearly surprised : 

“How are you guys ? As you can see, I’m great.” 

You don’t dare to look at the handsome stranger, and hope he’ll be too stunned to say anything, and you can make your ex-friend and ex-boyfriend feel embarrass enough they’ll leave quickly. But then Monica says something that makes your heart skip multiple beats : 

“You...You know Bruce Wayne ?!” 

You turn to the man who gracefully paid for your coffee, and your eyes go wide. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. How did you NOT recognize him ?! Of course. Chiseled face, beautiful blue eyes, a suit that was definitely worth your entire year’s salary, a very charming aura...

Your hazy mind full of “fuck this day” didn’t register that THE Bruce Wayne, was the one who helped you out. How did you miss that ? His face had been plastered everywhere in Gotham for the past year, since he came back to the city, in fact. 

You hear yourself wish with all your might to be struck by lightning this instant, as the two assholes who hurt you so much are looking at you expectantly and are not about to live (of course, they just met celebrity BRUCE WAYNE !! Could someone be as unlucky as you were today ?!)

And that’s when you hear a chuckle, a beautiful deep chuckle, and finally turn to look at Bruce. He smiles at you, and takes your hand, saying : 

“Honey, who are your friends ?” 

Your brain go full “ERROR 404″, not quite able to grasp the fact that THE Bruce Wayne just ran with what you were trying to do. How ? How was this possible ? You initially went to sit with him in the hope that Eric and Monica would see you were totally ok and with a hot date, not quite sure still yet how you ever thought this was a good idea and...

It was turning out alright ?! 

HOW ?! 

“Oh um, I’m..Eric. And this is my gir...This is Monica.” 

What a piece of shit. Not even brave enough to call her his “girlfriend” when he cheated on you with her for months and months. You glare at him, unable to stop this gut reaction. 

And that’s something Bruce caught. 

In fact, as soon as you sat down, avoiding looking at him and nervously looking at those two people, Bruce sort of knew you were in an uncomfortable situation. One that made you take an irrational decision. 

And oh, he didn’t like the look Eric and Monica gave you. Like they felt superior as they caught you in a bad moment. Bruce hated, people who thought they were superior to others... 

And you clearly seemed in distress and in need of help so...He ran with it. 

Bruce had to pretend to be someone he wasn’t enough that it felt natural, to run along with what your hazy mind thought was a good idea. 

“Nice to meet you, are you friends with-” 

Damn it. He realized he didn’t know your name. Quick thinking saved him, and he managed to keep his tone even, as to hide his hesitation : 

“My love ?” 

His hand around yours felt warm and reassuring, and you still couldn’t believe that, not only a total stranger, but THE Bruce Wayne was helping you out like that. Especially after you had such a bad day. 

Him calling you his “love” made your exes feel very awkward, and they shake their head “no”, suddenly pretending they’re very busy and have to meet up with someone. They leave the coffee shop, clearly stunned, whispering things to each others that you knew were probably : “how did she get a guy like him ?!”

You can’t help but glare at them some more...But then your hand feels cold again, and you realize Bruce let go off it. Well. Duh. Of course he would. 

You turn to him, your feature softening, and say : 

“Are you an angel ?” 

Ah yes. Your defense mechanism. “Humor”. 

He chuckles, and says : 

“Well, I’m afraid not. My butler would think this is very funny. But thank you.” 

Awkwardly, you rub your neck, your free hand nervously turning your cup of coffee clockwise in your palm. You don’t really know how to end this, what : “thanks for that” and leave ? 

“Thanks for the coffee. And for um...Saving my ass, just there.” 

He smiles, and wow hello white teeth and charming dimples ?! 

“You’re very welcome. They looked like they were jerks.” 

“Haha oh you have no idea.” 

“Glad I could help.” 

“Thanks again. Really. This means a lot, especially since we don’t know each others. Well, I know you. Everyone in Gotham does haha. And ok I’m going to leave now, my lunch break is almost over and I don’t want to make this even more awkward.” 

You start to rise up, but he holds you back by catching your sleeve, and says : 

“Actually miss…?”

“(Y/L/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Miss (Y/L/N), you are kind of saving my life right now.”

“…I am ?”

A flash blinds you. Not a lightning, a camera flash. You turn, just in time to see a guy hastily hiding a camera and running away. 

“What the...” 

“A paparazzi. Good timing, for once.” 

“Huh ?” 

You wish you had some witty come back, or would just know what to say. But you’re confused. And this has been a really weird day. 

“I am sorry if this will seem forward, or like I helped you wanting something in exchange. But I promise I will make it worth your while if you just sit back down and listen to me for a few minutes.” 

You sit back down. More because you’re unsure your leg can still support you in this moment, than because he asked you to. With a smile he continues : 

“Thank you. So. Let me explain a little, and again, sorry if this is too forward. If you don’t want to help of course, I would understand. I’m about to ask you something rather odd, I guess. And I’ll clear things up with paparazzis. I also promise I did not help you with your “friends”-”

“They’re not my friends.” 

“I figured that much. And I promise I didn’t help you with them and ran with whatever you were trying, just so I could ask you this.” 

“Ask me what ?” 

“Well, you see…it’s arranged marriage season.”

“What ?”

“Every year, every single rich family try to make me marry their single daughters. It’s a very tiring season, but I’ve never been able to avoid it…I thought about having a fake fiancee before but could never find the right person.”

What he says does not register with you. His clear proposal doesn’t hit your brain. And you just stare at him, waiting for him to keep going. But he doesn’t, and by the way he looks at you, you slowly starts to understand where he’s getting at. 

You gasp, now pretty sure this is all a dream (or a nightmare) and say : 

“And I’m the right person ?”

“Well, yes. You seem to be a...“normal” person.”

“…Thanks.”

“In that case it’s good. It’s very good. It means that if I’m dating you, a woman that has nothing to bring me, then it must be true love.”

“Wow, stop with the flatteries already mister Wayne, I can’t handle it…”

Ah, your slight wits are back. Good sign that you’re regaining your senses. Everything that happened in the last ten minutes still feel like a bad dream, but you’re back in reality now. 

“No no no, I didn’t mean it in a demeaning way ! But it’s just, you’re not rich, and you’re not famous or have political ties. You’re just a regular person. So they won’t think I’m trying to trick them, even if I am, do you know what I mean ?”

“Gotcha. My broke ass person cannot bring you any value, so it must be love and not just an arranged thing they can break. Cool.”

There’s a slight silence. And you find it a little fun, to play a little bit with the famous Bruce Wayne. He seemed so confident and cocky on TV, you never thought you’d be able to make him look so guilty. 

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

He says, clearly meaning it. But you shake your head and smile at him (and oh why does he feel his heart tightening slightly at your smile ?), and reassure him instantly (you feel a little bad, actually, to mess with him while he did just really do a huge favor to you while he had no obligations to) : 

“Haha, just messin’ around with ya Mster Wayne. I’m not bothered by it, it’s the truth. I’m really broke, and I don’t think you could find more “regular” than me right now. So, and because you really did save my ass from an extremely displeasing experience back there. And also because you allowed me to see those assholes’ face of surprise and “how did she manage that ?!”, tell me more about your plan, and let’s see if I can help you back.”

And so Bruce starts to explain to you how, every year, this beginning of Fall is the worst time ever, as it’s a moment where everyone seems to want to marry off their daughter. And of course, Bruce Wayne is a good “party”. 

The plan was fairly simple. You’d fake a relationship with him, so he could avoid all of this, and in exchange...Well. You’d gain a lot in exchange. 

This is how you started to really feel like you had fallen into a “romcom” by accident...You and Bruce, became an actual living trope. 

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

“And then when the “marrying season” is done, you can break it off.”

“I ?”

“Well yes, I can assure you you’ll gain quite a rep if you break up with me haha.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure you like that sort-of overly confident side of him. But you can see something behind his eyes, like a slight unsureness as he looks back at you, trying to see if you’ll agree or not.

“I don’t really need a “reputation”.”

Breaking up with THE Bruce Wayne himself. For sure people would talk about it a lot, and maybe it would help open some doors for you ? But you felt a little odd taking advantage of this like that. 

Seeing that he hadn’t convinced you quite yet, he adds : 

“Of course, I will pay you.” 

What kind of Pretty Woman sort of nonsense was this ?! You were about to protest when he added, realizing how he sounded : 

“I mean, you ARE doing me a great service. You ARE going to have to act, you know ? An...actual job ? And I will be honest with you, it won’t be easy, to find yourself in the public eye. I think it definitely justify a salary.” 

Put that way, you had to admit that, well, yeah it sort of did. Especially since you knew how crazy tabloids were about Bruce Wayne. Becoming his “girlfriend” would definitely put you on the front lines. 

“And it would truly help me tremendously.” 

Your grandma always said it : “True joy comes out from helping others !” So. What if you benefit from it a little ? If it helps you financially, and you can get a little network out of it ? First rule of Alchemy (what a weeb) : “equivalent exchange” ! Plus, he did really help you with your coffee, but also with Eric and Monica so...

And hey, this gap year was meant to help you find what and who you wanted to be. Help you go through this little twenty-something crisis. And this ? Living a literal romantic comedy cliche by faking being someone’s girlfriend ? Well, it definitely felt like the kind of adventure that could help you figure things out.  

With a smile, you finally nod and shake his hand, not knowing quite yet in which mess you actually put yourself into...

Briefing. 

Like every “secret mission”, this one too needed a “briefing”. 

A little meeting to put all the rules down, and the goals too. 

And here you were, feeling very out of place in a huge conference room in the biggest and tallest building in Gotham : “Wayne Tower”.  

The concierge stared at you for a very long time, when you said you were there to see Mister Wayne. No “nobody” like you ever called for his boss. 

Suspicious, as it was his job, he called security on you...Until it was finally cleared up that you DID have a meeting with Bruce Wayne ! 

Both the concierge, and the security guys, stared at you as you left to take the elevators they indicated to you, wondering who the hell had the kind of credentials to go all the way up there to see their boss ?! They didn’t recognize you from anywhere, not a model, not a famous politician or CEO, just...A regular person ? 

That was odd. And they noticed, it was odd. Which you assumed was what Bruce was aiming for, but it felt so awkward, to walk through this huge hall under their scrutiny. 

You finally arrived on the right floor, and oh look, some more staring. 

From his secretary, this time. She was used to see women coming to see her boss. But they’d usually wear Prada, and have plunging necklines full of pearls and fanciness. They weren’t...like you. 

You felt like it was easy, to know that you were just a “normal” person. You were definitely not wearing any designer clothes, and you were pretty sure the way you carried yourself made you super obvious. 

Hence all the staring. You could clearly see in her eyes, that she was wondering who the hell you were... 

She had her answer when Bruce came out of his office, and made a gesture as if he was going to throw his arm around your waist, and kiss you (which made you downright panic). But then, he looked awkwardly at his secretary, and instead just shook your hand. 

Something that DID NOT go unnoticed by his secretary. 

You saw how her eyes widen, and how she clearly hitched to take her phone out and call everyone...and you realized Bruce did this awkward thing because he knew his secretary, and her tendency to be a little gossipy. 

You’d discover later, in fact, that he hired her entirely because he knew if he said something, she would pick up on it and it would help him control rumors and such. Clever. 

For the moment though, he took you to a large conference room with huge windows. 

“I’m sorry for the weird “hello” back there, I wanted Shirley to think I was embarrassed to display affection to you in front of her. Usually, I do not mind at all. So doing it would make her think that-”

“I’m someone special to you.” 

“Exactly !” 

He smiles widely as you understood his plan (not sure how you felt about it, then again, that’s why you were here for, making sure you knew where both of you stood in all this), and then tells you he’ll be back in a few minutes. 

You have time to feel anxious and stressed before he finally comes back. 

“Sorry for the wait.” 

“Oh no, I bet you’re a busy man.” 

“Yes well. Anyway. Let’s get to it shall we ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ok. So. I thought we’d settle sort of a little contract, so neither of us ever feel uncomfortable ?” 

“Sounds good, mister Wayne.” 

“Yes well first, please call me Bruce.” 

“Only if you call me (Y/N).” 

Oh and you two were still on the path of “romcom cliches”, with this conversation. He smiles, nods, and continues : 

“Ok, then I thought we could-” 

And so your fake relationship started, with some little ground rules. Like he could only kiss you after you gave him permission, if you ever felt overwhelmed everything would be called off, etc etc. 

Most rules were in your favor, to be honest. And WOW the paycheck he was going to give you for this little farce...Hey, maybe this gap year was finally gonna get interesting ?

Meeting the Little Buddy. 

It was sort of necessary. By then, Dick had been his son, officially, for a few months. He wasn’t calling him “dad” yet (and Bruce didn’t particularly want him to, at the time...ah but everything change one day, right ?), but they were already family. 

And it was a needed step. 

It wasn’t in the little “contract” you made, and honestly you could’ve refused to meet him but...Well, you liked kids. In another life, it felt like you could’ve been a teacher (A/N : AH, like in this story ;) : “Can you be my dad’s girlfriend, please ?” ). 

And you’d feel awkward, to fake a relationship and not ever meet his boy. 

The first time he saw you, it was at the Wayne Tower, and his eyes widened as he exclaimed : 

“Wow you’re so pretty ! Are you Bruce’s girlfriend ? You’re too good for him, you know.” 

You could feel your heart melt, how adorable this little guy was, right ? You chuckled, and almost full on laughed as you saw how vexed Bruce was by the comment. 

Not that he thought he was too good for you, no, he was just a little unhappy his son was stealing the show, and thought he couldn’t land someone like you...Oh but that, you couldn’t guess at the time, of course. 

“Nice to meet you, Dick. I’m (Y/N). And...I’m not really his girlfriend.” 

“Can you be mine then ?” 

You laugh again. You and Bruce had decided to tell him the truth, Bruce assuring you that kid was good at pretending too. You answer : 

“No, I’m saving him from marriage proposal.” 

“Oooooh !” 

Good at pretending. Dick had no idea what you were on about, but he was very good at acting as if he knew. 

It’s only way later, that he finally got it. By then, he already accepted you as : “his dad’s girlfriend”, and even knowing the truth, there was no way to change his mind. And to be honest, out of everyone, little Dick Grayson was probably the most aware of what the situation truly was. 

He had a knack, to notice how people felt. 

A “family” outing.

Two months in, and it was going GREAT. Faking a relationship was actually pretty easy. All you had to do was hanging out with him (and he was very nice to hang out with), and when a paparazzi was around, quickly kiss his cheek, or hold his hand, or let him put his hand in your hair...All those cute things new couples do. 

Today was one such small date. 

You could see Bruce was nervous, though.

After hanging around with him that many times, you started to know him a little better. Started to know he wasn’t really that persona he portrayed publicly.

He was actually quite a dork. What a pity, nobody else would ever know his real self...Yet, it made you happy you were one of the few in on the secret.

“Ok, out with it mister, what’s up ?”

He looks at you with such surprise in his eyes, as if it was the first time someone guessed what he was feeling...and, well, yes. It was. It was the first time someone who wasn’t Alfred got it. Someone realized something was on his mind. And asked him about it, didn't just ignore and move on. Actually cared to know. 

“I-Um...”

“Well ? Come on, I think literally nothing can surprise me by now, given you know, I’m faking a relationship with a billionaire, and it’s like, my job now.”

He smiles, and he couldn't possibly know how soft his look was, as he gazed at you.

“I...well, people don’t quite believe in us because-”

“WHAT ?! With all the “dates” and kisses and lovey dovey shit we did ?!”

He chuckles at your reaction, loving how honest you always were, and adds :

“The problem apparently is that you weren’t seen with my son yet, so many don’t believe we’re serious.”

“Oh...”

You met Dick. Because it felt like a necessary step to yours and Bruce’s scheme. And you knew he knew this was all fake...But neither of you wanted to confuse the boy in any way so he was kept mostly out of the plan.

“I talked to him, and it’s actually really up to wether you’re comfortable with it or not. I know he wasn’t part of our contract, and I should’ve probably thought about it, I’m sorry. But um...If you’re ok with it, we could..Do things with him, too ?”

Bruce is really nervous; And you’re pretty sure no one but you (and maybe Alfred) ever saw him like that. It’s kind of...sweet. But you let the silence linger for too long and he hurries to say :

“You really don’t have to ! It’s ok if they don’t think we’re that serious and I get some proposals. I can manage ! You’re still a great help right now. It was just an idea. Dick is a very social kid, he would go along with anything and loves to do activities outside. He would be fine. But if you’re not then we can-”

“No. No no it’s...It’s ok Bruce. The few time I saw him, Dick did seem absolutely a peach to be around. And I always have fun with you, so sure, let’s organize a little something and show those bastards we’re totally real.”

You chuckle a little, your smile and carefree face making his heart skip a beat, for some reasons...Bruce also decided to ignore how happy it made him, to know you were always glad to be with him, and instead, he smiled and settled a date.

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

And here you were. In one of Gotham’s biggest park, opening a basket full of delicious sandwiches made by the one and only Alfred. Pretending to have a great family outing.

“Hey, hey look !”

Dick was absolutely amazing, at acting as if you were really a thing. As if you were really a “family”. Right now, he was doing flips and cartwheels, demanding your attention with avidity.

Bruce made sure to always hide his face from pictures (he was GREAT at noticing where paparazzis were hiding, a life of practice, you assumed), as he wanted to keep as much as he could his son’s privacy (especially after he made all the headlines when he lost his parents).

It was quite adorable. And...You were really having fun.

Dick was such a lively kid, and he was full of talents. The food was good, and it was so comfortable around Bruce. It felt so natural.

This wasn't all that bad. To fake being a family. A good use of your gap year, really. 

You purposefully decided to ignore the glint in the boy’s eyes. The way you sort of suspected for him, this was getting real, and not only pretend.

You and Bruce purposefully ignored it, actually. And you both felt shitty for it. Because not only were you risking to break that little boy’s heart when it was all over but...It was too hard to accept that maybe, maybe he was right.

And that all of this ? Might’ve not been as fake as you’d love to repeat yourself.

First Official outing. 

First gala. You were terrified. So far all you had to do was hang out with Bruce in the afternoon, there and there. It mainly consisted in him buying you coffee, and keeping the addiction to caffeine real, while talking about anything that would come to your mind. The conversations between you two was always fluid and pleasant. 

Or you’d go out with him and Dick, to do some fun things like mini-golf or catching a movie. Nothing too big and scary. It was mainly just you guys, no one else. 

It seemed like he knew where the paparazzis would be (most likely because he was “anonymously” tipping them off himself), and he’d take you on random short dates when he had time in between his work, slowly fueling the rumors Bruce was not a heart to steal anymore. 

And that he was dating a “commoner” ! (He hated this name for you, while you really didn’t mind that much). 

And this gala, was what made it completely official. Finally. It was your idea, to take things “slow”, and hang out with him and his son BEFORE hanging out in public areas like this. 

It was clever, really. To make it seems like you were trying to “hide” your relationship by being low-key, to then finally announce everything in public like that, at such an event. 

Bruce went to get a drink for the both of you, and you were looking around you, horrified at the mere idea that someone would come talk to you. 

But for some reasons, nobody seemed to dare. Maybe Bruce made sure that people would leave you alone ? Even as if you were clearly the talk of the evening, all eyes on you, and not even trying to be subtle ? 

You knew he did the same with little Dickie. That he made sure he was safe from the paparazzi and that no unsolicited journalist would come around him.

Thinking of it, where was the little one ? Usually, according to Bruce, whenever there was a gala he would spend his entire time near the food table, eating as much as he could, and he would come home feeling nauseous because of it...Haha sounded like Dick alright. That kid was so-

Oh oh.

Who was that sleazy looking gal talking to him ? He seemed so uncomfortable, yet too polite to brush her off...Oh no, she wasn’t one of them, was she ?

Without thinking twice about it, wether it was your place to do what you were about to do or not, you resolutely walked towards them.

“-Think it’s because he relates to you ? As both of you lost your parents in horrific situations, you know ?”

“I-I don’t know m’am.”

When you saw Dick’s distressed face, and his eyes slowly filling with tears, there was no doubt in your mind.

This woman was not supposed to be there, and was definitely not supposed to talk to that child...

This woman was a - shiver of disgust- tabloid journalist.

Your blood boiled as you saw her take a picture of the teary eyed Dickie, and you were standing protectively in front of him before you could even think about it. When you felt the boy clutch to your sleeve, hiding behind you and holding on for dear life, you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

“Can I ask you why you’re talking to that boy, please ?”

“What, it’s illegal to talk to fellow guests now ?”

“Lady, you’re well in your thirties. He’s eight. You have no right talking to him. Not only is it weird, but I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, and pray tell, what am I doing, lovey ?” 

“You’re trying to get a story out of him. And you should be ashamed of yourself. He’s eight ! And from what I heard, you were asking some very disgusting things back there !” 

“I-”

“Shut up.”

Your words came out harsh and determined, and the woman was so shocked she stayed silent for a while. You crouch down to Dick’s level, and ask : 

“Are you ok, my little buddy ?” 

He nods weakly, and then burst into tears as he launches himself in your arms, clinging to you tightly. You turn your head towards the woman, glaring at her so fiercely she doesn’t dare to take a picture of the scene, even as she knows she could sell them for a golden price. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself. He’s just a child !” 

The woman was about to say something else, something you knew would fuel your anger further, when Bruce arrived, and it was clear from his face that he was not happy. 

A quick look to you holding his crying son in your arms, and to the lady with the camera in her hands, and he understand what happened. With a cold voice you never heard him use before, he says : 

“I suggest you leave the area now, before I force you to.” 

There was something almost scary, in his demeanor. Almost like...No. Impossible. In any case, you didn’t worry about it much, drawing soothing circles with your hand on Dick’s back, trying to calm him. 

People around quickly stopped staring as they met Bruce’s assassin glare. It was not secret, that he was very protective of his son. And of his new girlfriend, apparently. 

You picked the little boy in your arms (Dick, at the time, was still so tiny), and Bruce comes closer, trying to soothe him too. And it really looked like all this was real...

Dick fell asleep in Bruce’s arms shortly after that, and was still there when it was time for the gala official pictures. Not wanting to wake him up, for once, Bruce allowed people to photograph the boy, as long as they did not frame his face. 

He laid his free hand on the small of your back, and just like you got used to those past months, you pretend to be head over heels for him and have one of your own arm around his waist.  

“Would you please allow me to kiss you on the cheek, for the cameras ?”

His question is so sweet, softly whispered in your ears. And you felt like a tease tonight, and maybe a little tipsy too. You tell him : 

“On the cheek only ? Let’s give them a show no ? Let them forget about what happened with Dick.”

Of course, you’re only joking, but there’s a light in Bruce’s eyes you haven’t seen before and...It disappears quickly. He chuckles, of that low chuckles that would charm anyone in the world, and says :

“I don’t want to force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to. Actually kissing me, I realize, might be too much.”

You know he caught on your joke, but you can’t brush off that light in his eyes that ignited when you suggested to kiss him...You don’t know why, and it feels you’re not controlling your own words, as you hear yourself say :

“Oh because kissing you would be such a horrible thing wouldn’t it ? Oh my, you’re only one of the handsomest man in Gotham, a rather attractive fella, how could I handle kissing you ? So disgusting !”

Your tone is teasing, and a little bit challenging. He catches on that, too. He answers : 

“But I am merely here to serve. I will do as you wish. You only have to say the words.” 

His smile fills your vision. His face. And the way he softly holds your waist, even as his other arms is carrying his son (the man was BUILT). And you think...Well, fuck it ! It was time for the first (fake) kiss, right ? 

Right here, in front of the cameras, where everyone was seeing you. Making it go full circle. Making it “official”. 

“Kiss me then, if you dare.” 

You simply say. Releasing a breath you were unaware you were keeping in. And he feels his heart squeeze, and as if he’s sweating a bit. When was the last time he was nervous about kissing a woman ? 

He couldn’t remember. 

And then he kisses you, the flashes of cameras slowly fading away as his lips melt onto yours. 

Wow. What a perfect, and nice, first kiss. 

As fake as it might be.

Your room. 

Your room at Wayne Manor was bigger than your entire apartment. 

You and Bruce decided that sometimes, so you wouldn’t raise any suspicion, you’d sleep at the Manor. Paparazzi were so on top of everything, it would seem weird if he was in a “committed relationship” and you never slept at his place. 

So Alfred settled a room for you. 

Oh. Alfred ! You met him not long ago, and he was the best ! 

It felt like he could magically guess what you wanted when you wanted it, and magically appeared with that warm cup of tea you craved, or that meal you’ve been thinking about all day. 

But beyond that, he was genuinely nice and made sure to make you as comfortable as possible. He showed you around, and his conversation was so pleasant ! 

You could actually see a lot of Bruce in him. Or, rather, it was evident that Alfred had raised Bruce most of his life, because they had a lot of similar mannerism, and were both kind and caring (Ah, imagine if Superman knew what you thought of Bruce, how crazy it’d sound to him eh ? But of course, that you’d discover way WAY later). 

You never went to explore much when it was time to go to bed, too afraid to get lost. This place was huge, and you never quite had a good sense of orientation. 

One could only wonder, what would you have discovered if you ever dared to wake up during the night, and explore his home ?

Build a Bear. 

Sometimes, Bruce really had to wrack his brain for original date ideas. Ever since he came back to Gotham, his dating days consist of pretending to sleep with every model in the World. 

He’d take them to fashion shows, to galas, to charity events...All very public places, unsuitable for a “serious” relationship like he was hoping to make yours and his pass for. 

Enter : Clever little Dickiebird, who always had an idea (and who might’ve been the best wingman someone like the Batman needed...that, of course, he’d discover it way, WAY later) :

“You can take her to a build a bear !” 

“Build...a bear ?” 

“Yeah, you know. You go and you make your own teddy bear !” 

“I do know, I took you to get Chester - the name of Dick’s favorite plushie toy now, and maybe with which he slept-. But...For a date ?” 

“What ? It’s cute and intimate !” 

“Huh ?” 

It has been a long time, since Alfred Pennyworth had to hold his laughter in that hard, and try to stay impeccably neutral. And there, faced with his master Bruce, who was known as the “ultimate womanizer”, the “perfect playboy”, and who was currently taking advice from his eight years old son...It was really hard to keep a straight face. 

It was also incredibly adorable. Especially how Bruce seemed to genuinely listen to the little one, unaware that he seemed actually way too interested for things just to be for his “fake relationship” to be more convincing. 

Not that Alfred was going to tell Bruce anything. 

“Dick, you know (Y/N) isn’t really my girlfriend, right ?” 

The way the boy talked about taking you to a date, felt to Bruce like he was forgetting this was all fake. And it was important to remind him.

But Dick had to invoke all the efforts in the world to not roll his eyes as to say : “sure she isn’t”, by now, it was oh so obvious to everyone but you and Bruce that there was a very real thing forming between you two. 

Instead, he said : 

“But you’re suppose to make the public really believe it right ? If you take her to build a bear, I can assure you they will think you guys are the real deal.” 

Bruce pondered this for a little bit, and realized that his son was right. It did seem like a cute and intimate date to bring your girl to, even if she was your fake girl...

Ah. Bruce forgot his own words. “Dick is great at pretending.” He is. He really is. Just like right now, he was pretending his idea was completely innocent, while he knew it would bring you two ever so closer. 

That whenever you’d see those bears you were going to build in your home, you’d think of one another. And remember fondly of the memory. 

And oh. Oh that boy was right. 

Your bear was sitting proudly on your couch, and every time you saw it, you remembered how clumsy Bruce had been, filling his own bear up. And how cute he was, carefully thinking of his options. 

And every time Bruce saw his own bear, that Alfred, for some reason, settled in the Batcave on the “trophy shelves” (and for some reason Bruce didn’t take it off of it...), he couldn’t help but think how he had genuine fun that day. 

Genuine fun, for the first time in what felt like ages. And how your smiling and giggling face didn’t seem to leave his mind, whenever he saw that bear...

Conniving traitors. 

“We both agree, he’s in love with her right ? He’s just too dense to realize it.” 

“Oh yes, young Master Richard, he definitely is. And he is dense, at times.” 

“Should we do anything ?”

“No more than what you’re already doing.” 

“Which is ?” 

“Which is continuing to push them in the...Right direction.”

“Oh ! I get it ! I’ll keep going Al’!” 

“And I’m sure you’ll make miracles, young master.” 

Dick’s smile to the old butler was so pure and happy, that Alfred had a hard time keeping his composure once again. 

And oh. Oh how he wish they were right, and that his Master Bruce would FINALLY allow himself to be happy... 

Rumors and Truth 

Bruce was just a tiny bit older than you. 24, according to his wikipedia page. 

And you couldn't help but be a little jealous, as you were looking at the page to re-enroll yourself in Gotham’s university, knowing he was done with college.

Then again, he was obviously a genius and would’ve been done faster than you anyway, even if you were the same age, since he finished his PhD just the year before, while most people don't even START their doctorate until they're around 23/24. 

Mmmm. Made you think. Was this just yet another rumors about the man ? 

Maybe not, after all it was proven he started college at age 14, and in Ivy Leagues ones, all across the world. 

From Cambridge, to Oxford, without forgetting La Sorbonne (A/N : by the way, this is canon haha, Bruce really did start college that early and went to many different places, and honestly, is anyone surprised ?). 

This wasn't really something you absolutely couldn't believe, compared to other crazy rumors about him. And you knew he WAS smart. 

By then, you couldn't count how many things were circulating about him, and how hard it was to know the truth from just plain old rumors. 

He had over a thousand lovers, he had MORE than one PhD (impossible, right ?), he had died once but survived somehow, he was part of a cult, he often lost his status as a billionaire because he gave so much money to charities and such, but his companies meddled in so many areas that his bank account was always filled more and more…

Honestly that last part didn't really surprise you. You saw him gave his money away to things he cared about (like education and medical care) without a second thoughts, so the fact he constantly oscillated between "billionaire" and "multi-millionaire" didn't really surprise you, not when you knew him like you did now. 

You totally trusted the rumors that said that by now, he gave away more than he currently owned. It sounded like him alright…But how to know the truth from the downright crazy ? Did he really have a PhD or was this just an addition to how special and different Bruce Wayne was in Gotham ? What kind of PhD did he have anyway ? 1000 lovers, really ?!

So many questions. And not a lot of answers. Even if you grew closer (as friends, of course), Bruce was still somewhat of a mystery to you. 

He never really tried to dismiss rumors, even the bad ones (unless they touched his son). Which made you wonder if they were true or not. And you really, really, for some reasons, wanted to know more about him...

“Is something the matter ?” 

He asks. Oh goddamn you, day dreaming on one of your regular “coffee date”. 

You shake your head, sipping on your drink and say : 

“Was just thinking about...Tabloids.” 

“Ah.” 

He frowns. For understandable reasons.

“I was just thinking about wether some rumors were true or not.” 

“What do you think is not true ?” 

“I don’t really know, and you never really say a rumor is false so it’s hard to know.” 

“Do you want to know anything in particular ?” 

Bruce knows it’s dangerous, to let you enter his private life like that. There’s a reason, after all, why he never dismisses any rumors. 

It helped build his fake persona, and take away any suspicions that he might be the infamous Batman. 

But he felt weak, around you. As if he just wanted to please you, no matter what. Sometimes, he felt dangerously close to just tell you : “ask me anything and I’ll tell you the truth”, even if it meant revealing his night activities...

Crazy, right ? 

He knew it was. And that he shouldn’t let it happen. Yet here he was, asking if you wanted to know something. Craving your attention. It felt so unlike him. But...You seemed to unlock a certain part of him. 

The one that didn’t die with his parents, and remained hidden. The one that was the old little Bruce, full of hope, honesty and happiness. Full of wish for the future...Even if he knew there was none. 

“How was college, for you ?” 

You hear yourself asking, really wondering if it was true he was 14 when he started, and if it was...How different you guys were, right ? You were 21 right now, and taking a gap year after two years of college...When he was your age, he had already finished a master (or even maybe two). 

"My college years were actually pretty boring, and unlike some rumors say, weren't particularly wild. I was really young."

"Ah, I heard the rumors."

"Those are true, I'm afraid haha."

"Afraid ? You're a genius !"

Which is why you found, more and more, his "himbo" persona to be odd. WHat was Bruce Wayne trying to hide ? Mmm…

Bruce recognized that look in your eyes. The look of someone who was onto something, and it was too frightening to let it happen. So he said :

"Yes well, I feel I missed a lot, during those years. Which is why I make it up now hahaha !"

His boisterous laughter seemed genuine, and totally fooled you. You couldn't always be on top of everything eh ? And this, did answer your question about his himbo persona…Oh, Bruce was good.

And he knew it. He trained for years, to make sure nobody would ever even suspect him to be Batman.

But he had to be careful with you. He knew it. It was obvious. You weren't that easy to fool…

The Day Batman saved you. 

The fact he had to be careful with you was confirmed not long after. When, as Batman, he came to your rescue.

He should’ve known, that even with a voice changer, and a mask covering most his face, plus a demeanor that was completely different from his usual one, you’d still get suspicious...He should’ve known because he, by then, knew you quite well. 

But, what ? Was he suppose to just let you get mugged ? 

He couldn’t. 

Even if in the grand scheme of things, it would’ve been better, and he would definitely intervene if it got too rough...He couldn’t. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt, or feeling distressed.

He knew this was stupid. That he shouldn’t get so attached. That muggings weren’t really his area of expertise, that to stop them, he had to hit the big bosses. He knew. Small thugs weren’t his target. He had a much bigger vision. And rationally, he should be somewhere else right now. 

Yet he couldn’t resolve himself to. Because, and that was a dangerous thought and feeling, he was in l- 

“Why are we spying on your girlfriend ?” 

Dick’s voice takes him out of his reveries, good. It WAS getting dangerous. Still keeping you in his field of vision (you were slowly going back to your apartment, a few minutes still, and he could leave to do other things knowing you were safe and sound in your home), he answered :  

“We’re not spying on her, we’re making sure she’s safe. And she’s not my girlfriend, you know that.” 

“Oh yeah ? We’ve been following your “totally not girlfriend” since the night started, awfully looks to me like we’re um, you know, stalking her.”

“We’re not.” 

“Suuuuuuuuuure.” 

Bruce gives an annoyed look to his son, who had way too big a smug face right now, and says : 

“The night is calm, if something comes up we’ll go. But right now, it’s alright. And it has been made official, that she and I are a couple.” 

“Fake couple.” 

“Fake one to us, not to the public eye.” 

“Ooooooh !” 

Connections were quickly made in the boy’s head, and he understood why they were following her. After all, this was Gotham. And if THE Bruce Wayne had ONE known lover...Well, it was easy to know it’d attract some nasty business. 

Dick was about to make a smug remark of which he had a talent for, when it happened. He pointed at you, fear in his eyes, and Bruce focused your way again. 

“Stay here.” 

“What why ?! I wanna help her too !” 

“Because she’s too smart not to put two and two if she sees you with me. She knows us in our day lives. She’ll recognize us for sure, if we’re together.”

“Oh...”

“Just stay still, ok ?” 

“Ok.” 

Without a second thought, Bruce jumped down in the street down below, under Dick’s worried eyes. If anything happened to you, he knew his dad would never be the same again. 

And he knew he couldn’t bear to lose yet another person he cared about. Even loved. Yes. Yes Dick loved you, as if you really were part of his family...

The months of “faking” family outings made it so. Your worst fear happened. Dick was getting attached, hardcore. And he really hoped you and Bruce would figure out you were actually in love with each others before the end of your “contract”, and before his sometimes very dense dad would decide to let you go...

For now though, he was anxiously looking at Bruce making his way to you, after he spotted a suspicious group of men genuinely stalking you. 

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

“Hey pretty girl, can we talk ?” 

You stop in your track, turning around, cursing yourself for not having the instinct to just take off running. Oh. But you can see at least one of them has a gun. You can’t run faster than a bullet... 

“Ah it is you, isn’t it ?” 

You don’t answer, knowing what they mean. Bruce sort of warned you against this. But you didn't take his warnings seriously, and here you were, going home at night, something he definitely told you not to do. 

You just couldn’t sleep that night, and needed a walk...And here you were. 

“You’re gonna come nicely with us, right ?” 

“I dont’ think so.” 

Uh ? You’re pretty sure that weird robotic voice wasn’t yours. Even if that’s exactly what you wanted to say. And that’s...oh wow. 

That’s when you see him. Batman. 

Immediately, the atmosphere grow even tenser. And you can see the thugs who wanted to take you with them fearfully looking at him. 

“This has nothing to do with you Batman, leave us alone, we didn’t do anything wrong !” 

“It has everything to do with me. Leave.” 

“We have to-You don’t understand. We have to take her to-” 

“Nowhere. Leave.” 

Even if he was protecting you, you had to admit that, that dude was frightening. He had his back to you, and even then, he looked so intimidating and tall and broad...

Bruce was tall and broad too. But he was soft and sweet, not scary at all.

“OH MY GOD LOOK OUT !!” 

One of the thug had a gun pointed at Batman. Right at his head. He didn’t have the time to enforce his helmet yet, and if he shot around his mouth, he was done for...

A rock coming out of nowhere hit the thug right in the face. 

Coming out of nowhere ? To you, maybe. But Bruce knew that this was little Dickie’s doing. “Robin always has Batman’s back”, he said often...

For the time being, the one taking his gun out being knocked out triggered a “fight or flight” reaction in the others, and as two took off running (and were mysteriously hit by rocks too, knocking them out), three decided to attack Batman. 

Bad move. 

Very bad move. 

In a matter of second, it was over. 

He turns to you, and it’s hard to discern any emotions with his lighted eyes and mask. He asks : 

“Are you alright, (Y/N) ?” 

“How-How do you know my name ?”

“Well, you’re Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend, right ?” 

There was no hesitation in Bruce’s voice as, as soon as he pronounced your name, he knew he messed up...but he trained himself to think quickly. And this “fake” relationship was a perfect excuse, of course. Everyone in Gotham knew about you two, by now. 

“Oh, right, ok.” 

You seemed a bit disappointed, and Bruce couldn’t quite understand why...

It only hits him later, as he was going to bed, why you looked like that. And it made hi heart beat widely. Because he was pretty sure that it was because you sort of hoped Bruce talked to “Batman about you...Oh...Oh this was getting dangerous. 

But of course, Bruce had a reputation to be the one funding Batman’s gadget (a really good cover for the fact he was actually Batman). So they’d know each others...

But right there and then, as he just saved you, you felt so stupid, hoping that Bruce would’ve talked to you to Batman. Why would he ? How the hell would your name even show up in a conversation between Bruce Wayne and Batman (but oh, if you knew you occupied his thoughts many times, and who he really was, maybe you’d feel less bad ? It was, in a way, Bruce talking about you to Batman, right ?). 

You smiled weakly and shyly at this impressive being in front of you, and thanked him one more time. He nods, smiling too (oh ?), and bid you farewell. 

Ah. But Bruce didn’t notice your eyes go wide, as he took off with his grappling hook, and you caught the side of his face in a certain light...

Fake ?

"You know, he smiles more when you’re around.” 

Dick tells you once, you look at him curiously, as he continues : 

“And before you say it’s “all pretend”, let me tell you there’s a difference between this smile and the fake one. Look, that’s how he pretend.” 

On that note, he looked at you and smiled widely, exaggeratedly, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. And it was so like how Bruce portrayed himself in public, that it made you chuckle. 

It also scared you a little. 

Not because there was a possibility Bruce did smile more around you, but because as that little boy was being silly, and now imitating his adopted father further and oh so perfectly...You felt a surge of love for him. 

And that wasn’t good. 

Because the day, which was coming soon now, you’d have to “dump” Bruce Wayne, you wouldn’t be able to see that little one again...why would you ? 

It’d be too weird, right ? Someone like you, once “broken up”, would have no reasons or ways to ever interact with billionaire Bruce Wayne or his son ever again. 

That little boy was the sweetest child you ever met. He suffered a great loss so early in his life, and there he was, making you laugh and being nice by saying you made his dad genuinely smile. 

It hurt, to know that one day, you wouldn’t see him again. That he’d grow up, and you wouldn’t know what he became. 

You were sure he was destined to become a great man, and you wished you could see it...No. No this was bad. This was so bad. 

“I mean it you know.” 

His little voice brings your attention back to him. 

“I think you make him happy. With you, it feels he can be himself. He laughs more, really laughs. And it’s often that he tells me “oh this makes me think of (Y/N)” and calls you. He doesn’t need to call you for the fake relationship thing, right ? Yet he does. That means something. I think he likes you.” 

You shake your head, smiling at this little boy’s wild imagination. No way. No way was THE Bruce Wayne falling for you in any way. Were you guys becoming real friends ? Sure. But it definitely stopped there. Right ?

Oh but if only you knew Dick had a knack to see this kind of things, and to guess people’s real feelings. If only you knew, that yes, Bruce was starting to fall for you...It would make the next episode way less painful for you. 

“Catch me dead before you catch me catching feelings” - You to yourself, a few days before starting a fake relationship with THE Bruce Wayne. 

“Fuck you” - You to yourself, almost six months in faking a relationship with Bruce Wayne. 

This was...bad. 

Soon enough, you and Bruce will break this entire deal off, you will “dump” him, and you’d go on your separate ways. And...

This was bad. 

Why ? WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST HANG OUT WITH THIS AMAZING CHARMING MAN AND THAT’S IT ? Why ? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GET OUT THERE AND CATCH....

Catch...

Catch those body shivering “feelings”. 

Not just for Bruce though. But for the little buddy too. 

You felt yourself fall for Bruce slowly, and as if it was completely out of your control. But you also felt like if Dick wasn't in your life anymore...You wouldn’t feel whole again. Like he was sort of your son, too, by then. 

This was so bad. How did you get yourself in this mess ? What was that FIRST rule you gave yourself when all this started ? 

Right, “Catch me dead before I catch feelings”. Damn it. 

Thanks GOD the “marrying season” was finally coming to an end. Both you and Bruce settled you’d wait a few weeks after it to make your break-up official, so nobody would be tempted to cancel any wedding plans to try and force their daughter onto him.  

And it couldn’t happen soon enough. 

Being around him now, faking being in love, was torture to you. 

Kissing him knowing he felt nothing. Holding his hand in public while you knew in your heart he was just putting a show still. And hanging out with him feeling that you had absolutely no chance of this ever evolving...

It hurt.

It hurt so bad. 

And you were slowly hoping you never agreed to being his fake girlfriend. Being a living cliche, the money and the fame were REALLY not worth the heartache. 

So not worth it...

The end...?

"Well mister Wayne, it has truly been a pleasure to be your "girlfriend" haha. Seriously, I had a lot of fun, and a little revenge on life. You know, I saw Eric and Monica not long ago. They tried to become my friends again, knowing I was with you. It was great, to ignore them like they ignored them. You’re right, they’re really not worth it. And honestly I still don’t think we’re even after they hurt me like they did but...In the end, they looked so outraged. Win-win, really. Thank you very much."

"Thank YOU, for playing along and doing more than you bargained for. You really saved me a lot of hassle and…I had fun, too."

Your taxi was pulling in front of the Manor, and honked as he parked. Clearly, not a very patient driver.

"Well, see you around, Bruce ! If you're not too busy, you know…I kinda consider you a friend by now ?"

"Me, too."

Bruce lied. A "friend" ? No, it couldn't cover and explain all his feelings for you. A "friend". How ridiculous.

As you walked away, giving him a last smile, Bruce felt a pang in his chest.

A painful and yet happy one. A longing one. One that told him that "friend" wasn't what he wanted to be…Not anymore…

But was there really a future for you and him ? Probably not. His nightly activities would get in the way. You deserve more than the life he could give you. Being his "fake" girlfriend, you only took part in his public matters. Part in a fake world full of nice things, that was far from his actual life.

"Friend", he wished he could be more to you than this.

But he knew.

He knew that for your own good, he had to stay away. And oh, oh how he wished he could be more than just your "friend" or "fake" boyfriend. 

Yet he watched as you walked away. Without doing anything. 

He watched you leave, and felt the hole in his heart expand a little more. But didn’t try to catch you, or stop you from leaving. 

And your taxi was already far, now. On its way to Gotham. 

"So you gonna run after her oooor…??"

Dick's little voice takes him out of his reveries.

“Mmm ?” 

“(Y/N). Are you gonna run after her, or stand there looking like a sad puppy for the rest of your life ?” 

“I do not look like a sad puppy.” 

“Yes you do, and you know it. Come on dad, why are you doing this ?” 

This was the first time Dick called him dad. Which didn’t go unnoticed to Bruce. It meant...It meant something was definitely happening. He felt it in his heart. Something that was dangerous. Oh so dangerous. 

Hope. Like the “old Bruce” had. Hope. Full of it. Before his parents were murdered in front of him, for no reasons. Meaningless. 

Hope. 

To have a family again. Ah. But...Being with you was impossible. And Dick would be enough. He would. He was already enough... 

“How long are ya gonna torture yourself exactly ?” 

That boy was too smart for his own good. Bruce said : 

“I’m not. I just...I can’t be with her.” 

“I cAn’T bE wITh hEr !! ...Why ?!” 

“You saw what happened, when it was made official we were together. She almost died.” 

“And you saved her. Your point being ?” 

“Dick...”

“Don’t -he takes a mock Bruce voice- “Dick” me mister ! You’re afraid to be happy, and I won’t have it. You gave me another chance to have a family. A dad. And I’m not about to let my dad punish himself for feeling good. You told me yourself my parents would like for me to be happy. Well yours would too, you big idiot ! So now, you listen to me.” 

Dick, meaning business, jumps on the stairs’ bannister to sort of be on eye level with Bruce, and says, pointing his finger at him : 

“You take one of those fancy useless sport car, and you run after her. Capish ?” 

There’s a moment of silence. During which Bruce is unsure of what to do. And then...Then he smiles at his son. 

His son. 

“Capish”, he simply says, and he rushes towards the garage’s entrance, under Dick’s happy look. 

Success. 

Bruce’s car was leaving the estate, when Alfred joined Dick at the front door. 

“You did it, Master Richard.” 

“I hope I did !” 

“Oh you did. You did. Thank you. Thank you for taking care of my son...”

Dick turned to Alfred, who couldn’t keep a straight face this time. Small tears gathered in the old man’s eyes, and sweet little Dick did not hesitate one second before jumping into his arms and giving him one of his famous “Grayson special” hug. 

It’s real. 

Back to square one. 

You. A bad day. Looking like a mess (this time not because of the rain, but because you cried a lot). Your gap year almost over and still not knowing who you were. With no coffee, but at least, you had a tub of ice cream. 

You already missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred. 

You couldn’t believe those six months of “faking” would end up meaning so much to you, and feel so devastating as they ended. 

You wish you had never met Bruce. And that you’d been ridiculed by Eric and Monica, that your life would still be pathetic...Pathetic maybe, but at least, your heart wasn’t completely shattered. 

You don’t hear the hurried knocks on your door, at first. Entranced by your own sadness. It’s only when they become loud and insistant you react. 

You really hope it’s not a journalist. They sort of tried to talk to you so many times, since you “dumped” Bruce...You knew he made sure that they’d stay away, but some were particularly persistent. 

Including that awful woman from the charity, who was asking Dick those horrible questions. “Vicky Vale”, was her name, apparently. What a witch. 

Clearly, the knocking wasn’t gonna go away, so you stood up, settled your tub of ice cream on your coffee table, and went to the door, ready to fight if need be. 

But there was no need for fights. 

At least, not in the literal sense of the term. 

“Bruce ?” 

He seems out of breath. Incredible, given how in shape he was. He doesn’t really leave you any time to say anything else, as he blurts out :

“I was wrong.”

He blurts out out of nowhere, and you’re even more confused. Before you could ask what was all this about, he adds : 

“I was wrong. When I said you were the right person because you were “normal”. You’re everything, BUT “just a regular person”. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever met. You decided to help a total stranger just because. I know I helped you before, but it doesn’t compare to what you did for me. Especially on a matter that seems so silly to me now. You put yourself in a very awkward position for someone you didn’t even know. In front of the public, for a guy like me. You knew I was a “playboy”, and that I could very well use you. Yet you still put up with it. You accepted my son, even as you didn’t have to. Even as, just like me, you are so young. You were nice to Dick, even if all you needed to do was pretend. You’re...You’re...You’re just something else entirely. It feels like you know me, the real me. Like you can read my very soul. Like you’re the only one for me. I’ve known for a long time. I ignored it because I was afraid of what that meant but...but a certain little one made me realize this was time. It’s time to move on. It’s time to allow myself to be happy. And so, here I am.”

Was this...it ? The point of your gap year ? To discover that finding yourself...Meant finding your soulmate ? 

It sounded silly. While at the same time, not. Because you felt it. You felt it deep within you. From the moment Bruce handed you that twenty dollars bill, fate was in motion. 

You meeting Eric and Monica wasn’t bad luck. It was the opposite. It was the Universe’s push towards your real Destiny. 

Towards Bruce. 

“You’re not saying anything. Is this bad ? Or does it mean I blew your mind away ? I’m clearly hoping for the latter...”

Over the months, you discovered how huge of a dork Bruce Wayne could be. Even as if there was often a darkness right behind his smiles. Deep within his eyes. You discovered he wasn’t always this cocky arrogant man he portrayed himself to be while in public. How he was actually pretty funny and oh so empathetic. How...How so many things, the list seemed endless in your mind. 

And it only added to everything, that he looked so unsure. And so you smile. You just smile at him. And everything you feel is in that smile. 

You don’t even realize you’re holding each others now, and that you’re kissing...

It’s not pretend this time. 

A real first kiss. 

Though maybe all your kisses until now weren’t as fake as you pretended them to be. 

In any case, this, right now, is a real kiss alright. 

A real one. 

Full of all the pent up emotions. Free of all the fear and hurt you both felt as you realized you were in love with the other one, yet you thought things were all “fake”. 

Because it wasn't fake. It wasn’t. 

“I love you.” 

You don’t know who said it first. You, or him. You felt so in sync, that it didn’t matter. What is sure, is that you both said it. Before you closed the door to your apartment, leading him in. 

Before you spend the night in each other’s arms.

Bruce not even thinking about going out as Batman..

For the first time in years, he decided to fully embrace being happy. 

“You always told me my parents would wish for me to be happy, well yours too !” Dick said. And oh, he was so right.

By the way, I’m Batman. Surprise. 

“It’s not like I didn’t know, you know.” 

“Huh ?” 

Oh. Oh the delight to see that surprised expression on Bruce’s face. It was quite a rare one, really. And as he finally gathered the courage to tell you who he really was, risking losing you in the process but wanting to show you his full self...

It was particularly delightful. 

“Busted you on that night you saved me. As if I wasn’t going to recognized that jawline.” 

“Wait, really ? I really thought you bought my lies !” 

“Well now, you know not to underestimate me.” 

“I...Do.”

A natural smile reaches his face, and he approaches you, pulling you to him, and laying a soft kiss on your lips. Feeling fully accepted and loved, like never before. And he could see you-

“Oh NO EWWWWWW !!!” 

You pull away from Bruce’s kiss (noticing his slow grumble, displeased to lose  your warmth), and look at little Dickie (your son too, now !), staring at you two, looking disgusted. 

“Get a ROOOOM !!” 

This makes you laugh. A lot. And oh. Oh how would you ever guess, in that moment, that one day, this “get a room !!” said in such a disgusted tone would be the trademark of your children (SIX OF THEM) whenever they’d see you and Bruce display any sort of affection to one another ? 

You couldn’t guess, of course. But even in that moment, as you softly laughed, in Bruce’s arms, while looking at your son now making exaggerated noises and acting silly, you knew this...

This was what you’ve been looking for during this gap year. 

This was who you were. 

Right there. 

At the heart of a loving family, even if right now, it was just the three of you (four, let’s not forget Alfred !). 

The end. 

_________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you liked it ? I feel particularly nervous about this one haha. Don’t hesitate to leave a little comment and reblog :),  It’s always greatly appreciated, and encouraging :D. Thanks in advance, and see you soon with a new story ! 

[blackacre13]

Can u do a blind date story? (loubbie)

Debbie was starting to regret the fact that she insisted on wearing heels everywhere she went. It was pointless to own a car in the city. She wasn’t the biggest fan of the subway. She didn’t mind hailing a cab here and there, but it depended on how big her last take was and how well she’d been doing with savings.

Jobs were few and far between lately, so she couldn’t justify the cab fare; and even if she could, it had started to drizzle, which meant that anyone and everyone who ever walked, ran or flew down city blocks on the daily, was now scrambling to wave down a taxi no matter the expense. So here she was, walking six blocks in stilettos as she murmured to herself what an idiot she was and how this guy had better be worth it.

She usually did her own casing when it came to dating and hooking up, or when she was feeling particularly lazy, but desperate to meet someone, she called up Tammy, but she was tired of the typical New Yorkers or the over-the-bridge, living in Jersey but working in the city businessmen that Tammy brought her. She was sick of explaining. Lying. Conning and manipulating was one thing, but pretending to be an accountant or a realtor was another.

But she couldn’t believe she’d stooped so low as to trust her brother when it came to finding her a date. She figured, even if Danny could hold it over her head and tease her mercilessly, at least she had a better chance of ending up at a casino or running from the cops. Something to keep her interested. On her toes.

She just prayed it wasn’t one of his usual guys. Or worse. Rusty.

Hiding a curse under her breath as her ankle wobbled, stiletto stuck in the sidewalk crack, Debbie recovered, throwing her shoulders back, fixing her hair on her shoulder, and then flying through the doors of the restaurant, nearly hurling herself into the hostess stand as she let out a half relieved and half exasperated smile at the hostess.

“Hi,” Debbie sighed, leaning against the stand as she used the toe of one shoe to fix the ankle strap of the other.

“How many people?”

“Actually,” Debbie smiled softly. “I’m meeting someone. A Mr. Miller?”

“Well, I don’t know about the Mr. part,” a voice chuckled from off to the side as Debbie turned. “But I am waiting on a date. You must be Deborah.”

“Debbie,” the brunette blushed before gathering herself so she could catch her resolve and put her guard back up as she took in the leggy blonde. “You’re not who I was expecting.”

“Are you disappointed or relieved?” The blonde laughed, offering out her arm.

“Definitely relieved,” Debbie hummed, placing her hand around the woman’s extended arm as she let her eyes scan over her crisp suit, her heart fluttering as she caught a glimpse of ocean blue eyes and porcelain skin.

“It’s Lou, by the way,” she offered as she pulled out one of the chairs at a secluded table. Debbie didn’t miss the view of the kitchen. She would have had to reserve the area specifically, and probably paid a pretty penny or two for the table alone.

“Debbie,” the brunette smiled warmly as she thanked Lou, sliding into the seat. She let her eyes follow the blonde, trying to take in as much as possible of her before she tucked herself into the table. “Barely anyone uses my full name, but Danny likes to get his digs in where he can. Which, I guess that explains why he failed to mention that you’re…”

“Australian?” Lou smirked.

“A woman,” Debbie grinned sheepishly.

“Ah,” the blonde nodded, running her index finger around her water glass slowly.

“I didn’t mean I—it’s fine—better, even—I just didn’t—um,” Debbie scrambled, feeling herself turning red as she chided herself.

What the hell had gotten into her? She never fumbled like this, and here she was, barely able to string one thought into another, only able to think about the gorgeous woman in front of her, practically praying that she’d keep looking at her with that damn knowing smirk as she sized her up, making Debbie’s stomach flip.

“Right,” Lou smirked.

“How do you know my brother?” Debbie stalled, grabbing for the water as she tried to compose herself again, wanting her usual Ocean armor in full force. She had a feeling Lou didn’t dabble with nervous, giggly women who seemed too naive. And that wasn’t Debbie at all. Usually.

“Danny isn’t the Ocean I came here to talk about,” Lou grinned.

“Why talk about me when we can talk about that fabulous suit?” Debbie smirked from behind her water glass.

“There it is.”

“There what is?” Debbie asked, confused.

“That signature Debbie Ocean charm,” Lou laughed, taking a sip from her own glass. Debbie watched, impressed, as the blonde waved over a waiter who started to make his way over with two menus.

“You couldn’t know I have a certain signature charm.”

“Can’t I?” Lou shrugged. “You’re not the only one sitting here who knows how to read someone.”

Debbie chuckled, sitting back in her chair as she crossed her arms. “Go ahead, then,” she laughed. “Read me.”

“Let me buy you a drink first.”

“I thought we were here for dinner?” Debbie smirked.

“Patience, honey,” the blonde purred, leaning back to match Debbie’s stance, looking more than mildly entertained, her eyes dancing. “There’s a lot I want to spoil you with. Dinner’s just the start.”

“I was hoping so.”