#i could listen to him talk abt his stupid car for hours | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rugggie · 10 months

Text

"SCARY CAT!"

My school bus graveyard obsession has come back, and what better way to indulge it than writing abt it🤞

Sbg Drabbles... my favorite characters x fem! Reader

LOGAN FIELDS.

You and Logan have been friends forever, forever being since middle school, 6th grade to be exact. So You've been though a lot of each other's cringe phases, relationships, family issues, drama.... So it was no wonder you guys were so close, what you didn't expect was to be going through this together. Every single night since the savannah field trip was like hell, Roman eating creatures trying to kill the 8 of you, running like your life depends on it, being scared to go to bed at night, not being able to tell anyone.

And now to make it even worse.. you just watched the side of your best friends stomach get scratched open.

"H-how bad is it.." Logan chocked out though sobs, while everyone just looked at it "why aren't you guys saying anything?! It's bad isn't it, it hurts I'm scared!" He said in obvious panic.

You walked over to him sitting down in front of him "no, you're good bro." You spoke calmly smiling, lying to his face.. even though on the inside you were also freaking out. You took your hand cupping his cheek, and wiped his tears away.

He was still crying, like a lot but he was definitely calming down. "Ashlyn, can you pass me the pain medicine?" You said, still trying to keep your composure.

"Mhm, here.." he said passing you one of the pills, you took it out of your hand offering it to Logan "here, take this it should make it hurt less..."

Logan didn't say anything, he just nodded his head and swallowed the pill..

"Hey, Logan remember that one time in like 8th grade..." you paused scooting into a more comfortable position "..where you got in trouble for calling Mr W an idiot,, because he marked your test wrong and wouldn't change it.. than I felt bad and called Mr W a mother fucker so we could both get lunch detention together..?" Logan nodded, looking at you smiling a bit.

"Oh! and that one time my dad took us fishing and I got a fishing hook stuck in my hand and I made you pull it out?" Logan laughed a little.

"That was horrible, I was so scared I was gonna get it more stuck" he mumbled with a shaky voice.

"Oh my god.. remember 7th grade?!" You said with wide eyes as if you were having flash backs, which you were...(dark times..) flash backs to your bad anime phase, and Logan's stranger things phase.

You laughed, giving you the look.. you both knew what you were talking about. Everyone around you two looked very confused.. aiden even started asking questions that you both could never answer.

You kept talking to him as Ben patched him up, it was definitely helping him calm down.. you grabbed his hand when ben was about to disinfect the wound. Logan death gripped your hand biting his lip. You just smiled and kept bringing up stupid stuff the two of you have done.

It was probably obvious to everyone but Logan that you liked him, Taylor asked you about it before, You tried denying it but it was obvious

You were the only person in the world that would sit and listen to his 10 hour rants about astrology, the only person in the world that stands up for him constantly, you wanted to be the only person in the world that liked him. It was painful to see him hanging out with Taylor, of course you knew Taylor wouldn't ever do something like that to you. But you couldn't help but think he would end up liking her she was smart, funny, positive, and so so pretty. You never knew when the right time to tell him was, or if he even liked you like that.. but for now its best for everyone if you just stay friends.. you wouldn't wanna go messing everything up, and you definitely don't want Logan to feel awkward around you.

AIDEN CLARKE

You and aiden were the definition of polar opposites, he was a thrill seeker, dare I say crazy.

You were carful, and a lot more prone to freaking out in situations like this.

"A-Ashlyn what was that... it looked like the thing we saw at the weed house..!" you said, panic and fear present in your voice. You had just left you, and your friends shared room. "A-and where is {friends name}?!" You started to cry, wanting to turn back and go get her.

"She wasn't in the room with you?" Taylor gasped, more than a little freaked out. You shook your head no, Ashlyn stayed quiet leading the two of you out of the room.

"Taylor!" You heard a relieved voice, that had to belong to Tyler yell.

"Ty!?" She said in what sounded like disbelief.

"Oh so it was you guys, why are you running? And why are you crying y/n?" Aiden teased with his usual smile on his face.

"The thing from the serrel weed house.. it was in Ashlyn and Taylor's room.." you breathed out, still terrified.

"What's going on!?" Tyler asked, hugging his sister.

"There's something in the-" Ashlyn all of a sudden stopped mid sentence turning around.. the thing was there again. Right in front of you again.

You looked at it wide eyed, still trying to put some sort of reason, or logic behind this all, tuning out everyone. You were pulled out of your thoughts by Aiden grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the room. You all got out safely, making sure to slam the door shut.

"W-what was that thing.." Logan stuttered out, shaking with fear..

"According to Tyler, that would be the "prank" from earlier today." Aiden said, in a very condescending tone. "You know what I find kinda weird,, no one's even come out of their rooms even after all the screaming and banging." The door knob wiggled, thankfully Ben grabbed it before the thing could get out

"That could've been bad!" Aiden smiled, and laughed

"Could've?!?" Tyler spoke angrily, looking at Aiden like he was crazy. You still haven't said anything, you just kept staring at the door still gripping Aidens hand. completely disconnecting from everybody.

"STOP TAKING THIS AS A JOKE, ITS BEEN BAD! THE SKY IS RED FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" Tyler angrily yelled Trying to knock some sense into aiden, they kept bickering only to have it interrupted by Taylor's quiet voice

"G-guys.." she paused almost in fear "look down.." everybody but you looked down, you did not want any part of this anymore. "Out of sight out of mind" you kept repeating in your head

"How far away is your room?" Ashlyn asked Aiden

"5, or 6 doors down.." he said almost nervously, well you could tell he was nervous. The grip he had on your hand tightened.

"Y/n, Aiden give me the strings off your shorts.."

"Kayyy,,,, why?" He asked pulling his string out of his pants..

You quickly pulled it out handing it to her.

"Y/n.. are you okay, your face is really pale.." Ashlyn said with concern examining your face..

"Y-yeah I'm totally finnee" you weakly whispered out, still on the verge of pissing your pants. She told you guys her plan on using it to trap the devil spawn. She told everybody to go, you were still paralyzed with fear, and the person who was dragging you alone let go of your hand tying the rope to a pole.

Ben let go of the door so the others started booking it, Aiden yet again grabbed you and yanked you along with them. You were struggling to keep up with everyone, maybe due to the fact you're fairly unathletic. You were already panting and gasping for air by the time the thing was right behind you. Turing your head fast enough to get whiplash you saw it reach out for you, Aiden tugged you forward causing it to only rip the back of your shirt. Ashlyn crashed the cleaning cart into it, slamming it against the wall.Ben gave you a look of concern, like he was asking if you were okay. You nodded your head sorta understanding what he meant.

"Y'know.." Aiden said letting go of your hand and grabbing a bottle of bleach "this could be pretty fun!" He laughed looking like an absolute crazy man, he sprayed the bleach in the creatures eyes.. the side of its face started to melt and its mouth unhinged, as if it was supposed to be screaming but none of you could hear anything.. well except Ashlyn, by the why she was plugging her ears.

"Why isn't it screaming..? Is it mute lol" Aiden said tilting his head.

"Ew, why does it look like that.." you whispered finally getting a good look at its terrifying ugly face.

"Y/n, Aiden c'mon! We gotta go!" Ashlyn yelled at the two of you.

"Nah c'mon I think we can take 'em! There's enough bottles-" Aiden went back to making his crazy face, you grabbed him this time pulling him back and running to the room with Logan, Tyler and Taylor.

You shut and locked the door, finally relaxing and falling backwards onto the floor trying to catch your breath. "GAH!" You yelled and jumped back as the monsters started banging on the door.

"Maybe we should put the couch in front of the door.." Ashlyn said. You guys moved the chair, you sat on the floor next to Aiden calmed down a little.

"Hey, Aiden.. thank you for saving me like 6 time out there.." you sheepishly whispered, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Nah, it was nothing! But it was super funny to see you so scared!" He laughed hardly elbowing your side.

"Nuh-uh! So not funny it was scary!" You protested elbowing him back

"Okay, scared cat.. you couldn't even move" he said laughing 10x harder than he was before.

You giggled with him a little bit, sorta embarrassed about how much of a baby you were being in front of him. And even more of the fact that you guys were holding hands.

#school bus graveyard #sbg #sbg (webtoon)#webtoon #aiden clarke #Logan fields #sbg x reader #sorta romance #I dunno #I really like this webtoon #read it #and I'm gonna make more sbg hcs.. lol

317 notes · View notes

falcqns · 3 years

Note

Hii i have this request in mind like Chris Evans x Actress! Singer! Reader like the reader and chris dated for 3y idk but they broke up but the reader always visit chris’ family bc she treated them like family aswell specialy when the reader’s parents died so she spend Christmas there or any occasions bc chris’ family invite her and when chris got a new gf the reader is kinda hurt bc she still love chris but she try to look like she doesn’t care but then she released her new song its called deja vu (by olivia rodrigo) and she release it to her bday so when the song is released the fans knew its abt chris bc of the new gf (chris’ fam doesn’t like the new gf and the fans kinda didn’t support them bc of the girl’s attitude) and chris’ family invites her over bc they want to show the reader something and when the reader got there they surprise her for her bday and congratulate her and turns out chris is there too with his new gf🤨and the reader knew chris’ new gf hated her bc of her look and scott called you all to the living room and watch the mv of the reader’s new song and when the mv ends scott and the fam congratuleted the reader and chris’ gf is giving the reader looks again and chris is noticing it and when the reader is in the kitchen alone getting something chris talk to her and congratulate her and chris’ new gf wrapped her arms around chris and chris tried to stop her to make a scene but she started a scene and scream at the reader but the reader cut her off and embarrassing her and the reader prove the new gf shes first not her (idk if that make sense lol) and the new gf leave(idk you can make her a random name so its not only “new gf”) and the reader and chris talk and they got back together, you can do wha you want at the end this is just so random bc i was listening to deja vu and advance thank you if you do my request! Stay safe! ❤️ and im so sorry if this is so long

Deja Vu

pairing: Chris Evans x singer!reader

warnings: parents death, major angst, fluff.

a/n: thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy!

You had known Chris since college, when you had met him in your communications class. You two had grown close quickly, and became best friends.

He brought you home every Christmas Eve, before you would go home to your parents house on Christmas Day. You had always felt like a part of the family, so when your parents passed a way, you turned to him.

You and your parents were driving home from a Christmas Day church service, when you were hit by a semi truck. It had completely totalled the car, and your parents had died on impact. You had been sitting in the back, and only had a broken leg from where your moms seat had been pushed back into it roughly.

You had been pulled from the car and sat in a second ambulance, while your parents were transported in another. You knew you'd never forget watching that ambulance door close and drive away, knowing that was the last time you'd ever see them.

When the police officers asked if there was anyone you could call, you didn't know what to do. Your parents were both only children, so you had no aunts, uncles or cousins. You were an only child too, so you had no siblings, and your grandparents had passed when you were little, your other ones passing before you were born.

So when the officer asked you, you told him the Evans’ phone number. Lisa picked up on the second ring, and you tearfully explained what had happened as the shock wore off. She immediately said she’d meet you at the hospital, and not to worry, that she and Bob would take care of you.

You were taken to the hospital and treated for your broken leg. Less than an hour after you arrived, Lisa arrived at the hospital with Chris in tow. They comforted you, and took you home with them. You stayed in Chris’s room for the first few days, and when you were given your own room, you still had a hard time sleeping alone, so Chris ended up in your bed with you most nights, not that he minded.

You never went back to college, and instead turned to singing as a release from all the pain you were feeling. You started out posting covers on YouTube, and gradually progressed to getting a record deal with Interscope Records, which didn't surprise anyone who knew you. You had immense talent, and your parents used to tell you that they were counting down the days before you were a celebrity.

When Chris graduated college and told you he was moving to Los Angeles, he convinced you to come with him. Prices were high in LA, and he didn't want to be separated from you for too long, so you joined him. He got to be an actor, and you got to be a singer, which is what you both had wanted since you were younger.

You went to every one of Chris’s movie premieres, and he attended as many of your live shows as he could. You supported him through all his relationships and his breakups, and played the middle man whenever he and Jenny would fight, up until the very end. You told yourself you did that because you just wanted what's best for him, but you both kind of knew that wasn't the reason at all.

Throughout your time living together, you friendship grew, as did your feelings for each other. You'd be lying if you didn't have a small crush on him in college, and those feelings only grew as time went on, especially since the two of you decided to only get a one bedroom apartment. Mainly because it was cheap, but also because Chris made a decision a week after your parents death to never allow you to sleep alone because of the nightmares that would occur if he wasn't there.

So, when you won your first award for your first album, named ‘hand in hand’, he kissed you the second you came off the stage with your award in hand. It blew your mind that he felt the same, but you were happy nonetheless. You two began dating that night, and everything was perfect.

Until, you were invited by 5 Seconds of Summer to be their opening act on their newest tour. You had agreed, and Chris let you go. You two had been dating for over 3 years, and you thought your relationship would be fine.

You quickly realized however that that wasn't the case, when the two of you started fighting less than two weeks into the tour. The fights weren't anything major, more petty things like ‘did you change the Netflix password’ or ‘why did you take this piece of clothing, that was mine and it was my favourite.’ All around stupid fights.

You had turned to Calum, who you were closest with, and he consoled you as much as you could. You realized however, that you couldn't be with Chris anymore when he drunk called you in the middle of the night while you were in the UK and got angry with you when you answered and told him to call you back in the morning when he was sober, to which he proceeded to brag that he slept with his co star at the time, Jessica Alba, you freaked out and ended things.

You got a message from Jessica on instagram the next day letting you know that they did not sleep together, and that she was sorry he even said it. You assured her it was fine, and felt relief.

Relief because you got to the bottom of the situation, but also relief from your relationship. You didn't know what happened in those few weeks, but you knew the relationship was turning toxic, and you wanted to stop it before that happened. Neither you or Chris needed that. You told him you’d find a new place to live, and by the time tour ended, you bought yourself a house in Beverly Hills, and moved out of the apartment.

Chris moved out not long after, and bought his own house. He had tried to stay friends with you, but you didn't want that at that point in time. You were still hurting, and needed time to heal.

Once you felt ready to date again, you were asked to be Calum’s date to the Peoples Choice Awards, you accepted. You knew Chris would be there, and you were hoping to talk to him, and maybe work it out. He had told you during the break up that he would always wait for you to come back, and that he still loved you, and always would.

But you knew that wasn't the case when he showed up on the red carpet, with a new actress named Myra Woodfield. You had smiled at him, while trying not to break down inside, but he gave you a dirty look and rolled his eyes at you when Calum wrapped his arm around your waist for a picture. You furrowed your eye brows and took a good look at Myra.

She looked almost exactly like you. Same build, same hair colour, same eye colour. The only difference is that she was slightly taller than you. You didn't know why he was replacing you, but it hurt. You pushed it out of your head however, and enjoyed the night with your best friend.

It was a few months later when you were awoken by the constant dinging of your phone. You unlocked it, and saw you had a lot of unread messages from Luke, Ashton, Michael, Calum, and your other best friend Ashe about Chris’s new movie trailer, you sighed.

You watched the trailer, and sighed when it looked like a recreation of a bunch of moments in your relationship with him, only Myra was in your place.

Your fans and some of Chris’s had commented on it, and Myra immediately became aggressive with them, and insulted them. She told them that you were a nobody who could make Chris happy, which she was glad about because she made him happy how.

Within minutes of this happening the hashtag #cancelmyrawoodfield was trending on twitter. You shamelessly went through the tweets and like and retweeted a couple. Then an idea popped in your head.

With a quick google search, you had a plan.

You had written a new song called Deja Vu after the peoples choice awards, and it was had been recorded a few weeks ago, and you just had to decide on a date to release it, and make a decision on the music video. Her birthday was in about 3 months, which gave you enough time to get everything in place to drop on her birthday.

Was it evil? Yes. Did you care? Not really. Besides, you inherited your pettiness from your mother and you knew she’d be proud of you. You called your manager and label, and got it planned out.

When the new music video had been announced, Lisa called you and invited you home to watch it premiere with the family. You accepted, knowing Chris and Myra would be there, and that her birthday would get overshadowed by the release of your music video.

So, three weeks later, you were sitting with Lisa, Bob, Carly, Shanna, Scott, Chris and Myra in Lisa’s living room, waiting for the video to premiere.

Scott had picked you up at the airport earlier in the morning along with Carly and Shanna, and the four of you had a laugh about the face that no one acknowledged Myra’s birthday, not even Chris. It was mean, but no one liked her.

Lisa absolutely hated her, but didn't want to upset Chris, so you got a call shortly after the PCA’s from her and the two of you ranted about her for a good two hours.

You watched as the timer counted down from 10, and then the screen turned black. You took a deep breath and watched Chris out of the corner of your eye.

You had searched for a while for a guy who looked similar to Chris, and you stumbled on Andrew Siwicki. He didn't look exactly like Chris, but it was close enough that everyone would know who the song was about if they didn't already. Andrew was a fan of Chris and hated Myra too, so he was more than glad to help you out.

The music began to play, and you watched as the black screen faded in on two people walking along the beach, holding hands.

“Car rides to Malibu Strawberry ice cream One spoon for two And trading jackets Laughing 'bout how small it looks on you,”

The next scene was a recreation of yours and Chris’s first date where you two had a picnic on the beach, and ended up splashing each other with the ocean water. Towards the end, everyone watched as Andrew picked you up and threw you into the water the same way Chris always did.

You glanced at him, and could have burst into laughter at how uncomfortable Chris looked, but more importantly how angry Myra looked.

“Watching reruns of Glee Being annoying Singing in harmony I bet she's bragging To all her friends, saying you're so unique, hmm,”

The next scene was you and Andrew (who was dressed as Ransom) on what appeared to be a recreation of the Knives Out set, running around with a dog that looked like Dodger chasing after you, the two of you laughing. The next shot was the two of you kissing behind a trailer, seemingly hiding from production.

“So when you gonna tell her That we did that too? She thinks it's special But it's all reused That was our place, I found it first I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you,”

The next scene was the two of you driving through Southern California, in a car that was almost identical to Chris’s. You two were laughing and singing along to the song, your hair whipping around you.

You took a deep breath, knowing this next scene would piss him right off.

“Do you get déjà vu when she's with you? Do you get déjà vu? (Ah), hmm Do you get déjà vu, huh?”

This scene was you, along with the rest of Chris’s family sitting around a living room that looked like the one you were in now, a Christmas tree full of presents in the corner. The camera panned across everyone as everyone was talking and settled on you and Andrew and the two of you recreated the scene where Chris whispered in your ear how much he loved you, and couldn't wait to start a family with you.

“Do you call her Almost say my name? 'Cause let's be honest We kinda do sound the same,”

The screen showed you and Andrew saying goodbye at the airport, with 5 Seconds of Summer standing behind you. They weren't actually there when you left for tour, but Luke suggested it to piss Chris off, and you had agreed.

Then there was a small montage of clips from tour, including a shot of Michael elbow dropping Ashton into a pool, which made everyone laugh, except Chris and Myra. The montage was followed up by you sitting on the floor of a dressing room and crying as you sent a text that said “I’m done.”

“Another actress I hate to think that I was just your type,”

Now you were on the red carpet, with Calum right beside you. You both were wearing the same clothes you wore on that night, you hair and makeup recreated perfectly. The camera unfocused on you as you turned and looked at Andrew and an actress named Alexa Morrison, who looked a lot like Myra, and they were recreating Chris and Myra’s actions perfectly. The camera swivelled around and came to rest pointing towards your face, as you looked in shock, and a single tear fell down your face.

“I'll bet that she knows Billy Joel 'Cause you played her Uptown Girl You're singing it together,”

You were shown watching a movie trailer with Ashe sitting next to you, while you sobbed at what Alexa and Andrew were doing. You looked at the camera and began singing the song, while Ashe and everything else around you was frozen.

“Now I bet you even tell her How you love her In between the chorus and the verse (ooh) (I love you),”

You were sat on the bed in Chris’s red flannel that you had stolen before leaving for tour, and you were writing in the notebook aggressively with tears rolling down your face and singing.

“So when you gonna tell her That we did that too? She thinks it's special But it's all reused That was the show we talked about Played you the song she's singing now when she's with you,”

You were now being shown sitting on the couch, and watching Andrew run across the TV screen dressed as Captain America, an ice cream tub in your hand. You were wearing sweats and a t shirt, your hair in a messy bun.

“Do you get déjà vu when she's with you? Do you get déjà vu? Oh Do you get déjà vu?”

The camera circled around you before transitioning to the next scene.

“Strawberry ice cream in Malibu Don't act like we didn't do that shit too You're trading jackets like we used to do (Yeah, everything is all reused),”

You were shown laying down in bed, and your eyes closing before an image of you and Andrew danced, dressed as Steve and Peggy in endgame, a scene Chris always told you the two of you would recreate one day. You had called Hayley and asked if it was okay, and she immediately said yes, and even came and watched you do the scene.

“Play her piano, but she doesn't know (oh, oh) That I was the one who taught you Billy Joel (oh) A different girl now, but there's nothing new (I know you get déjà vu),”

When your eyes opened, you were sitting at your piano, and playing while singing along.

“I know you get déjà vu I know you get déjà vu,”

Suddenly, the piano disappeared, and you were left standing in an empty living room as the screen faded to black.

The entire room burst into cheers as the video ended, except for Myra, who looked like she was going to murder you, and Chris who just clapped with a tight lipped smile.

Later that night after all the kids had gone to bed and Lisa was driving Bob home, Scott had pulled you into the kitchen under the pretences of ‘helping him fix a drink’, which ended up just being the two of you gossiping about Chris and Myra, and the music video.

Suddenly, Chris walked in, and nodded for Scott to leave. You cleared your throat and ignored him.

“That was a good song, and an amazing music video.” He said. “I can see you're just getting more and more talented as time-” He began, as you rolled your eyes, and looked at him.

“What do you want?” You asked bluntly.

“I just wanted to congratulate you.” He said, and you were about to open your mouth, when Myra came slinking in the room with an evil look on her face.

“Nice job, Y/N. I’m glad I could inspire your music video.” She said sarcastically, and you could tell Chris was about to defend you, but you opened your mouth first.

“Well, I’m glad I had such a snake like bitch to draw inspiration from,” You said, and heard Scott, his siblings burst into laughter in the living room. Myra’s jaw dropped and she turned to look at him. You looked up at Chris, who was leaning up against the counter, and biting back a smile.

“You’re just going to let her talk to me like that?” She asked, and Chris sighed.

“Myra, don't start. Not now.” He said, she scoffed.

“I knew you still loved her. Only a pathetic loser could love someone as ugly and untalented as her.” She spat, and Chris growled. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, and you ran out of the room, your drink abandoned on the counter.

You ran into your bedroom, where you shut the door, and fell onto the bed in tears.

Back in the kitchen, Chris had gotten in Myra’s face, and was yelling.

“DON’T YOU DARE TALK TO HER LIKE THAT! SHE’S BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH SHIT IN HER LIFE, AND I WON’T ALLOW YOU TO ADD TO THAT!” He screamed, as Scott, Carly, and Shanna ran to the door, unsure of what to do. “SHE IS SO TALENTED, WAY MORE TALENTED THAN YOU! YOU’RE THE REASON PRODUCTION TOOK SO DAMN LONG, IT TOOK FOREVER TO GET A PERFORMANCE OUT OF YOU! YOU OPENLY INSULTED HER AND HER FANS HOURS AFTER YOU WERE ANNOUNCED TO BE IN THIS MOVIE, AND THEN HAD THE AUDACITY TO COME TO ME CRYING BECAUSE YOUR LITTLE FEELINGS GOT HURT!” He screamed, and Shanna ran and backed Chris away from her.

“YOU’RE MY BOYFRIEND! AND ITS MY BIRTHDAY, YET HERE YOU ARE, CONGRATULATING HER FOR A SHITTY MUSIC VIDEO!” Myra screamed, and it was Scott’s turn to get in her face.

“You need to leave. If you don't we’re going to call the cops.” He stated, and Myra rolled her eyes before storming out of the house.

Scott turned back to Chris, and was shocked when he saw him in tears.

“You need to work shit out with Y/N. It’s clear the two of you are still in love, and you need to figure it out as adults,” Scott said, his sisters nodding. Chris took a deep breath, and looked at your closed bedroom door.

Chris walked up to your bedroom door, and took a deep breath before entering the room where he used to sleep in every night.

He opened the door, and saw you curled up in a ball on the bed, your body still shaking. He smiled sadly, and walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He sat on the bed behind you, and rubbed your back gently.

“I’m sorry. Not just for what Myra said, but for everything. For breaking your heart, and for causing you so much pain. I didn't realize how much I was missing you too until we watched that music video and I saw how truly broken you were. I never noticed that before now. And I’m sorry I didn't. If I’d have, I could have fixed this sooner, and we could be together right now.” He said.

You furrowed your brows at his last sentence and sat up.

“W-What?” You asked, and Chris moved closer. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug.

“I still love you. So so much.” He smiled, and a tear rolled down his face. “You're my entire world, and not having you here is slowly breaking me apart. I didn't know just how much until today, but I can't live another day without you.” He said. “I’m so sorry I hurt you baby.” He sobbed, and his head buried itself into your hair. Your body shook with sobs too, and you turned around to face him.

“I love you too.” You sobbed out. “I never should have ended things, but-” You said, but were cut off by Chris’s lips on yours, and you felt yourself melting into it.

He pulled away a few seconds later. “Don't. It was my fault, not yours. I am so sorry, and I am going to spend the rest of my life making up for it, I promise.” He said, as he stood the two of you up and led you out of the room, and to his.

“Where are we going?” You asked, and Chris pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“I have to grab something.” He said. He opened his closet, and grabbed something out of the top corner before turning to you.

“I said I planned on spending the rest of my life making it up to you, and I plan on keeping that promise.” He said, as he got down on one knee. You gasped, as he opened the box and your dream engagement ring was inside. “I want you for the rest of my life, and the next. Will you marry me?” he asked, tears pouring down his face, just like yours.

You nodded enthusiastically, and Chris stood up. He placed the ring on your ring finger and scooped you up. “I love you,” You choked out, and Chris sobbed harder into you.

“I love you too, and I’m never letting you go.”

taglist:

@nerdypinupcrystal @kpopgirlbtssvt

Tag list sign up: https://forms.gle/vRNXmWKEYoDYEoha9

#chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans x you #chris evans actor #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #Chris Evans x singer!reader #5 seconds of summer #ashe #chris evans x female reader #Chris Evans x fiancee reader

638 notes · View notes

butgilinsky · 3 years

Text

meant to be // np

warning; stress/anxiety, mentions a toxic ex but doesn't go into detail abt it, fluffy nolan, i think that's it?

summary; when you go MIA, Nolan makes sure you're okay. based on the song meant to be by bebe rexha & florida georgia line

word count; 2.8k+

a/n; this is a part of my yee haw series (all fics are stand alones, so don't worry about that) if you have any interest in checking those out too! until then, enjoy fluffy nolan

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

You were usually pretty good at telling yourself that you were blowing things out of proportion. It didn’t always stop you from doing so, but it usually talked you off a ledge. This week, it seemed that there was no talking yourself off of the ledge.

Other than the fact that you were five pages into your portfolio that you were submitting to Temple in an attempt to get into their MFA program, one that you’d been wanting to go to for years at this point, your ex had made a recent appearance in your life. As if the stress from applying to grad school wasn’t enough for you to handle, you had run straight into your ex on your way home from grabbing coffee.

It would’ve been enough if you had just run into him, if you had to exchange pleasantries with the same person who shattered your heart into so many pieces you were still recovering two years after the break up. The same person that traumatized you enough to have to put your current relationship on a speed so slow that you were sure a sloth would have moved faster.

Nolan had been patient with you, which you were beyond thankful for. He was fine with things going at a snail’s pace, given that you weren’t the only one between the two of you that had a rocky past with romantic relationships. It wasn’t news to anyone that you were together, but it had been confusing for just about everyone outside of the two of you.

There wasn’t a label on it, neither of you needed one to know where you stood. Both of you had an understanding that you were just as damaged as you were interested in each other, and working slow without any labels or the need to structure your relationship in society’s idea of normalcy was your middle ground. It allowed the two of you to breathe, without leaving a lingering doubt about how the two of you felt about each other.

People pestered the two of you about it, why you wouldn’t wear a WAGs jacket or introduce Nolan to your parents when they were in town. They didn’t get it, but they didn’t need to. You and Nolan communicated very well with one another, and if the two of you knew what was going on with everything, then nobody else needed to. Neither of you needed anyone else’s validation to be content with where the two of you stood.

But then you ran into your ex. Your shoulder collided with his on the street and while you thought you were piecing yourself back together from everything he put you through, the mere sight of him sent you down a spiral that you had avoided for as long as you possibly could.

It’s not that you missed your ex, because you didn’t. You didn’t miss him or the way he spoke to you, nor did you miss the lack of communication and being left in the dark more often than not. Seeing him made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but everything he put you through came to the forefront of your mind, and you were unintentionally overwhelmed with the worry that you’d end up in the same scenario with Nolan one day.

You didn’t think that Nolan would hurt you, not the way you’d been hurt in the past. You trusted him more than you’ve ever trusted anyone, and he proved that he deserved that trust. It wasn’t the thought that Nolan would become the person your ex had been, but the thought that there would be a day where Nolan was your ex.

It was scary and deafening, and the reason you couldn’t finish your portfolio. You’d been writing for hours, or trying to. The chair you were sitting in had grown uncomfortable in the first hour, and you had migrated around the apartment to look for a place that didn’t hurt your ass or your back. Unfortunately you couldn’t find one, opting to sit on the floor in between your couch and your coffee table. You’d been so lost in thought that you had spent six hours without responding to anyone, not even realizing that time had gone by that quickly until you got a call.

The only reason you even saw the call was the fact that the notification popped up on your computer. You knew he knew something was up because he rarely ever facetimed you without asking if you were free first; though, if he had texted you first there was no way of you knowing with your phone in a completely different room. He only ever facetimed you unannounced when you didn’t answer your phone for a while. He knew you could answer facetime calls on your laptop, and while you weren’t always in the mood to talk to him at that moment, it was enough to get your attention and let you know that he was worried about you.

But you answered it today, regardless of the fact that you looked a mess and felt even worse. You answered because you needed him to ground you, to pull your head out of the clouds and silence the thoughts that had been buzzing in your mind for over 24 hours.

“Hey.” you forced a small smile to your lips before reaching behind you to turn on a lamp, unaware of the darkness you were encased in until now.

“You okay? You’ve been MIA all day.” you rolled your eyes gently, a playful smile playing on your lips.

“It hasn’t been all day.” you tried to assure him that he was being slightly over dramatic, but the look in his eyes told you that that was not the case.

“Y/n, it’s midnight.” that it was, though it was the first time you were realizing that. You had no idea what time it was, and sitting in front of your computer for the past six hours had not helped that fact. “What happened? Talk to me.”

“This portfolio’s just stressing me out.” he hummed, unsure that was the full reason. He could tell in the way that your forehead creased and your eyes narrowed slightly that there was more than just a little stress going on. You’d been stressed about this thing for weeks, there had to be something else that was going on with you.

“So you’re not going to tell me what’s wrong?” you sighed softly, unsure if you wanted to unpack all of that right now. “Alright. Be ready in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes? Nolan I can’t get ready in ten minutes-”

“Just put a pair of sweats on and go stand outside. I’ll be there in ten.” he hung up then, not giving you much of an option but to do as he said.

Nine minutes after Nolan hung up on you, you were standing outside, teeth chattering lightly while you bounced on the balls of your feet. The familiar car pulling up in front of you made you smile, and when you stepped up to the door you heard the lock click.

You pulled yourself into his car quickly, sighing out in relief at the warmth that encased you. Your eyes found his, a warmth spreading through your chest as you leaned over the center console to kiss him softly. He hummed against your lips, chasing you for just a moment when you pulled back. The next one lasted just a second longer, noses bumping against one another softly.

He pulled back then, moving to kiss your cheek before sitting back in his seat and moving the gear shift into drive. His right hand found its home on your thigh, the warmth from his palm radiating through your sweats and into your skin.

“Where are we going?” your voice was soft and peaceful, like the sound of home on a cold winter evening that Nolan wished he could live in forever.

“Nowhere.” he shrugged, glancing over at you for a moment to smile at you. He didn’t have a destination in mind, just driving around the city for the night. It wasn’t the first time the two of you had done this before, and you doubt it’d be the last.

These nights were your favorite; Nolan driving absolutely nowhere with his hand on your thigh and his ear offered up to you. Sometimes you didn’t talk for hours, just listened to whatever playlist the two of you chose and drove until one or both of you got too tired to continue. Sometimes you ended up hours away from home, which got the two of you (usually Nolan) into trouble from time to time.

“What’s up, what’s rotting your mind?” you leaned your head onto his shoulder, wanting to be close to him more than anything right now.

“It’s stupid.” you whispered gently.

His hand moved up from your thigh to cup the underside of your jaw. He moved towards you, eyes still locked on the road while his lips pecked yours softly. It was cheesy and a bit awkward, but it wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that. It was meant to soothe you, and it did. Nolan wasn’t a man of many words but his actions always spoke loud enough for you to hear him clearly.

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.” his voice was as gentle as his heart, something you loved dearly about him. He wasn’t pushy or demanding, rather patient and gentle.

“I ran into Kai yesterday.” his muscles tensed, along with his hand gripping your thigh just a little tighter than it previously had been. It wasn’t a huge change but you picked up on it, along with the way his jaw clenched and he sighed through his nose.

Nolan had never met Kai, and you hoped he never would. Not because you thought Nolan would kill him or anything, but because you wished that nobody in your current life had to ever interact with people from your past. Kai knew a completely different person than the one Nolan knew, and you didn’t want to be the person you used to be. You didn’t want Nolan to be subjected to hearing about her or the life she previously led.

“Did he say something to you?” you didn’t expect much different from him. He’d always been a safe amount of protective. He wasn’t the type to run out of the house at the first sound of danger and pummel everyone into the ground, he just wanted to make sure you were alright. He wouldn’t put a bounty out on Kai, but if he did or said something that was still bothering you, he’d do everything he possibly could to make you feel better.

“I mean yes, but not in the way that you’re thinking. It wasn’t what he said it’s just,” you sighed, one that made your cheeks puff out and your eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“It’s just that now you’re scared that that’s how we’ll end up.” you lifted your head off of his shoulder, looking at him with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow.

“How’d you learn how to read minds? That’s a pretty cool party trick, you know?” he laughed gently and tapped the inside of your thigh while shaking his head at you. You always tried to lighten the mood by making small little jokes out of things and while some people found it to be unbearable, Nolan loved every single second of it.

“I wish I could read your mind, it’d make things a lot easier most of the time.” you rolled your eyes but laughed, finding truth in his words.

“I just don’t want history to repeat itself, you know? I’m just scared that the things I’ve been trying to avoid are inevitable. What if they happen anyway? What if everything I’ve been working for is useless and everything i’ve run from is my destiny?” Nolan sighed softly and pulled into a parking garage, one that you weren’t familiar with.

“Everything you and Kai went through, stays between the two of you. I’m not him, and I’ll never be him. I won’t say we’ll never fight, because I obviously can’t guarantee that. We’ll fight, everyone does, but we’ll get past it. We’ll survive it all. That, I can assure you. I can promise you that I would never treat you the way that that douche did.”

He doesn’t promise you the world, nor does he promise to shoot for the stars. He doesn’t promise that things will always be alright, but that’s what you love about Nolan. He doesn’t set unrealistic expectations. He doesn’t tell you what you want to hear just to make you feel better. He’ll do a lot of things to make you feel better, but lying to you isn’t one of them.

“If it’s meant to be, it’ll be, you know? You just have to let it be, which you’re not entirely skilled at.” you punch his arm softly just as he parks at the top of the parking garage that’s almost completely empty.

“What if what it’s meant to be isn’t what I want it to be, though?” Nolan shook his head gently and turned towards you, a soft smile sitting on his lips.

“It won’t be at times, but that doesn’t mean it won’t ever be. If people could write out their lives exactly like they wanted them to be, nobody’s lives would align. You have to let things play out, baby, and I know that’s the scariest thing about life itself, but it’ll work out. If it’s meant to be, I promise it’ll be.”

Your lips move before your mind can catch up. You’re so immersed in him, neck deep in whatever he’s cooked up for you, but you don’t try to get out. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. You didn’t think that anyone could be so perfectly hand crafted, treated with such care that even his flaws were beautiful. You didn’t plan on telling him you loved him, didn’t plan on saying the words that have done nothing but haunt you for the last few years.

“I love you.” it comes out in a breath, like it’s lifted a weight off of your shoulders.

He can tell you didn’t mean to say it, because your eyes blow wide open and your lips part in a way that he can tell you’ve spoken out of impulse rather than preparation. Your cheeks are hot and your hands shake just enough for Nolan to reach for one of them and hold it tightly in his own.

He’s smiling, which is as confusing as the small laugh that he lets out. It’s confusing and almost angering, but you don’t have time to ask because the second your brow furrows, he’s tumbling out an explanation for his reaction.

“I love you too. Have for a while, probably always will.” it melts your heart that’s sunk into your stomach. You’re not sure what you did that made the universe gift you with Nolan, though you believe it to be something between adopting a child in a past life or buying a woman’s order at Taco Bell when she forgot her wallet at home.

He expects you to say something else, maybe ask if he’s joking or not, but you don’t. You’re frozen in your spot, tears building up in your eyes that make Nolan meet you over the center console and pull you into his chest. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re so emotional, but he has a feeling it has to do with your traumatic past and the fear that others have installed in you. He just wants you to be happy, especially if he gets to stick around to make it happen himself.

“I love you so much, and it’s fucking terrifying.” he kisses the top of your head, his hand moving up and down your back in the most soothing pattern he can come up with.

“I know, and I’m scared too. Maybe we always will be, but we can’t spend too much time worrying about it or else we won’t get to experience it. We’ll ruin it for ourselves, and I don’t want to do that.” you shook your head, your silent way of telling him that you don’t want to do that either. You wanted to let yourself cherish falling in love with Nolan.

“If it’s meant to be, it’ll be, right?” he smiles down at you, one of the widest smiles you’ve ever seen him present. You store it in your memory, hoping you’d never forget the sight of him smiling at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the word.

“That’s right, baby. And I have a pretty good feeling about us.”

nolpat taglist; @extratragic @babytkachuks @teenagekook @stfukie @kiedhara @sadcupofcoffee @sidscrosbyy @rebel-without-care @baby-cat-nol-pat @creator-appreciator @aasimarr @bucky-ish @immmbabyyygraceee @neenaw-neenaw @shawnsreputation @pierreslucdubois @yungbeezy @tortito @dmonchld @beauvibaby @honeybearbarzal

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick x reader #nolan x reader #philadelphia flyers #flyers #nhl fic #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

284 notes · View notes

helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Note

omg pls share the story abt the lecture from that girl’s dad (only if u feel like it) but seriously ppl it’s not that hard to put a mask on to help the spread of a virus. just wear it, it keeps u safe. and for the ppl who don’t care then just wait til it affects u, bcs covid isn’t a game. I just wish ppl were more serious abt it

Ok so sit down and buckle up kiddos and grab some snacks bc this is a helluva ride

Little background info: I have been a section leader for both my junior and senior years now. When the new freshmen came in my first year of being section leader I was hyped as hell. And then this new freshman whips out a lighter and lights it WHILE WE’RE INSIDE THE SCHOOL MIGHT I ADD with a straight face looking off into the distance before we ask her to put it away. She also always has a pocket knife on her that we found on the ground during band camp. I’ll call her POS.

I tried to like POS I really did, but then she turned out to be a bigoted racist asshole (she also drinks deer blood straight from the corpse and simps over jeffery dahmer so even more red flags). It was extremely hard for me to treat her like I did with the other people in my section, but I managed to treat her the same as the other people and avoided her for the most part (thank god she wasn’t in my subsection I would’ve actually gone insane)

Flash forward to this year. Covid was hitting full force and we had to quarantine for the first two months of our season setting us back by a lot. She was wishywashy about rejoining but as the most senior leader of my section my band director was on my ass about getting a straight answer from her and fast. So I kinda had to force her to give me an answer (which she told me she was doing it quickly which leads me to think she already knew she was doing it) so she already was going into the season hating my guts

When we finally had an in person rehearsal for the first time, she wasn’t wearing a mask so when I asked her where it was she looked at me like I was the dumbass and said in a matter-of-fact tone “it’s in my pocket” and pointed to the confederate flag bandana hanging out of her pocket. Those four words told me that this season was going to be a fuckin long one with her. I just deadpanned (she couldn’t see it tho bc mask, sunglasses, and floppy hat blocking my entire face) and said “I’d rather it be on your face. (band director and marching instructor’s names) will have my ass if they see you not wearing one.” She rolls her eyes and puts it on (at least it was over her nose)

A few months go by with me telling her constantly to put on a mask bc I am responsible for my section and I’d be damned if one of them got sick bc of one idiot being stupid that I could prevent. She is getting madder and madder with each passing rehearsal.

Band camp rolls around and it changed from 5 13 hour days to 15 3 hour ones and I am already done with her bs. We get our dots and I mentally groan bc she’s next to me for the vast majority of the show. She is between me (an asthmatic) and my close friend (vvv immunocompromised and also hates her, I’ll call her S) so now I’m more worried about covid going around the section. It was in this time that I find out that at least 5 other people out of 20 also have pre existing conditions that make them susceptible. So now I make it even more my mission to make her wear a mask.

It was in the middle of band camp when she is yet again not wearing a mask (we were just marching without instruments) and I turn to her and as kindly as possible (it was the second time that day) asked her to put on her mask. She once again rolls her eyes and says “ya know, (band director) walked past me 3 times and hasn’t said shit, so I think I’m gonna listen to him and not you.” S and another friend of mine looks over in shock cuz she just talked back to me. They were about to say something but I wove them off. POS wants to fuck with me? Fine. I’ll just go full force with this. She wants petty?? I’ll give her petty, I’ve been holding off all season.

So I’m marching there for the next twenty minutes quietly seething and counting more aggressively. She’s getting annoyed, but I pull the section leader card and tell her that she needs to be counting as loud as I am bc her feet was lowkey off time. After we break off for a gush and go (very short water break), I go straight to my band director and use my limited water break to tell him what she told me. He apologizes and says that he thought she was just taking a breather. He tells her to put on a mask and she does so and glares at me the rest of the rehearsal.

She blocks me on all social media and I obviously clown on her in private with the other section leader (he’s more of a pacifist and never really told her to wear a mask which kinda pissed me off but I understood) until she makes a passing comment to my other friend about using the knife she kept in her boot. Now he tells me cuz he’s a good friend and I’m shitting myself at that point bc holy shit I might get shanked.

I think about telling the band director but I realize that there’s no proof of her saying this and she could easily get out of this so it’s kinda pointless to tell anyone. Plus if she did shank me, she’d get into so much trouble and I’d be laughing at her from my grave/hospital bed.

Many rehearsals go by and she still refuses to wear a mask so after one rehearsal S and I went to the band director and reminded him about our conditions and told him about how we were worried for our safety (I also told him abotu the other vulunerable ppl in the section) and he says he’s gonna do something. Next rehearsal he gives POS a warning and she begrudgingly wears a mask for the rest of the rehearsal. The next rehearsal rolls by and she isn’t wearing a mask (again) and he sends her home. Major victory for S and I.

The next sectional tho was something I wasn’t expecting. I get there like 10 minutes before it starts like I usually do in a good mood. I get out of my car and go to grab my stuff when a massive white truck with a busted muffler pulls up into the parking space next to me with a cloud of black smoke. The window rolls down and reveals POS’s dad and POS herself in the passanger seat.

Of course I’m thinking that this is the day I die and start mentally preparing to yell for help to my other section members 100 feet away on the field already.

Mans starts to lecture me saying things like “it’s unhealthy to wear a mask outside bc it’s like a pitri dish under there. 6th grade science!” (I am not joking or overexaggerating with this, he actually said that). I really wanted to say “well, 7th grade science says otherwise, but you wouldn’t know that bc I’m sure you didn’t pass 6th grade, but go off ig” but I didn’t bc I didn’t want to get shanked or disappear randomly. I just tell him that I am only doing what my band director told me to do and that there are tons of people (myself included) that can really get hurt from just being in contact with covid. He says that’s bullshit and tries to tell me that I’m an idiot before I cut him off by telling him once again that I am just trying to protect my section and that the sectional was going to start soon so I didn’t have the time for this. I walk away leaving him trying to keep talking to me and soon enough POS gets out of the car and follows me to the field giving me a smug smile on her unmasked face before she puts it on when she sees the other section leader stroll up.

Lemme paint the picture for you: this guy (a 6′something burly guy in his 50′s that I know has like two felonies under his belt) pulls up next to me (a 5′2 17 year old ball of anxiety that drives a small yellow car) and starts to borderline yell at me. Traumatizing. I was shaking for the rest of the sectional and I spent the rest of the season looking over my shoulder looking for the glint of a knife swingin at me

Now I’m pretty sure she’s suspended bc she was caught with a knife on school property and she wore a confederate t-shirt to school, but I would be lying if I said I don’t still look over my shoulder or speed up when I drive past her house lmao

#hellion responds #i have so many other stories from marching band that i think yall would like #just ask and i'll supply : )

12 notes · View notes

thetriggeredhappy · 4 years

Note

I love your idea of scout bein born early. Would it be too much trouble for you to write abt him bein in the hospital? And maybe possibly spy findin out?

this feels like a slightly different angle than the prompt, anon, but in my defense that’s what always happens

(warnings for alcohol mention, non-graphic injury and briefly being in a hospital)

The phone rang three times before it was picked up, and Scout used all three of those rings to try and get his story straight in his head. Then it was picked up and a familiar and very pleasant voice said “Hey, this is Pauling,” and he wasted exactly zero seconds to start talking.

“Alright so I kinda need some help, Miss P,” he opened with, because frankly those were some cards he knew were gonna end up on the table no matter how he played this.

“What did you do?” she asked immediately, and fuck, she was on to him.

“I—listen, I didn’t even do anything.”

“What did you do?” she asked again.

“...So, okay, promise you won’t be mad.”

“I’m already mad, Scout. What did you do?”

Scout worked hard for about three seconds to figure out a good way to phrase the next few sentences. “...So I was just at this bar, right, and I was minding my own goddamn business—“

“Scout.”

“I was!” he said, a little defensive. “Seriously! And this guy sees me across the bar, and, y’know, figures out I’m one of those guys from the newspaper who keeps causing trouble—“

“Were you in uniform?” she asked dryly.

“Nah, but, uh, Soldier and Cyclops were there, and some of the other guys were there earlier, and Soldier had his stupid helmet on, so, y’know. Bunch of foreigners and some G.I. Joe lookin’ guy, wouldn’t be hard to piece it together. And most of the guys left, and Soldier and Demo walk off, and I’m left alone just finishing my drink before I head out, like ya do.”

“Like you do,” Miss Pauling hesitantly agreed.

“And this guy goes, hey, three dudes is a lot, but I could take this one guy. And he comes up to me, right, all like ‘Hey what’s up I’m a drunk dude who wants to get in a fight like an asshole’ and I’m like ‘Hey nah I’m good actually’ because like, I’m busy and that’s stupid, right?”

“Right,” Miss Pauling agreed. “Really stupid.”

“Right! So I’m like, ‘Hey, fuck off pal’ and he just takes a fuckin’ swing at me, and I’m like ‘Hey actually fuck this I already paid I’m just gonna get outta here’ and I try to leave, but the dude just like—just grabs me by the arm and breaks my fuckin’ wrist, and I knock my whole glass over because holy shit, and a whole fuckin’ brawl kicks off, right—?”

“So long story short you need me to pick you up from jail again,” Miss Pauling cut in, voice laced with heavy exasperation.

“Nah, bartender saw everything and I didn’t get in any trouble. I, uh. I need you to pick me up from the hospital, actually,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as a nurse wheeled a cart by.

“Scout.”

“Look, I would’a just headed back to base, but it was like two in the morning and Medic was probably asleep and the bartender guy was bein’ all nice about it and how am I supposed to tell him I’ve got this crazy German guy who fixes all my bones and shit and don’t gotta go to a real hospital?” he asked, a little defensive. “Then they wouldn’t let me leave unless someone drove me because I’ve got a cast on and can’t drive, and I figured I shouldn’t wake you up or whatever at like four in the morning, so, I ended up taking a nap on a bench, and now it’s like ten so I figured you wouldn’t be mad.”

“Well, I can’t drive you back to base—“

“Aww, what?” he whined.

“—because I’m currently in Japan on business.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s fair,” he admitted.

“But I’ll send someone to pick you up,” she said. “Be ready to go in two hours.”

“Sure thing. Who are you sending?” Scout asked.

“I’ll send Spy,” she replied, and kept talking before Scout could start to complain. “Look, maybe now you’ll learn not to get in bar fights.”

“Miss P, c’mon!” he whined.

“I’m sending him. Two hours,” Miss Pauling said, and hung up on him, at which point he sighed so hard he got looks from two nurses down the hall.

Spy pulled up in his nice shiny car an hour and forty-five minutes later, and gave him a look that immediately made him feel guilty even though it totally wasn’t his fault that he was in this situation. He shifted on his feet for a second before heading over to the car. Silence.

“Wanna sign my cast?” Scout joked.

“Just get in the car.”

He did, deciding that maybe further hilarious commentary wasn’t going to help him out this time. Silence for a second.

He reached for the radio. Spy smacked his hand away. “Put on your seatbelt,” Spy said flatly, and Scout did, although it was a bit of a struggle one-handed, and they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

About thirty seconds of quiet again before Spy broke it. “So you’re a hired mercenary, but one drunk man in a bar can break your arm?” Spy asked.

“Go to hell, Spy,” Scout mumbled.

“I just find it interesting is all,” Spy said, tone light. “That we apparently need to babysit you or else you’ll end up in the morning paper.”

“What?”

Spy reached down between his door and the seat and pulled forth a newspaper, which he promptly tossed into Scout’s lap. “Third page.”

Scout flipped the newspaper open and found that there was indeed an article there. A brawl at the bar, minor property damage, five people arrested and several more fined, two sent to the hospital. He wasn’t mentioned by name, but he did see himself in the background of the picture beside the title.

“You’d think you would have the awareness not to get caught in a... brawl, I believe they called it?” Spy asked.

“Hey, I keep my head on a swivel,” Scout defended, closing the newspaper and tossing it into the backseat. “Everything was fine until Cyclops and Helmet-Head ditched me.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was,” Spy hummed.

Scout frowned. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“No, I’m just certain that you’re giving the full unbiased truth, even though I theoretically have no way of verifying anything you say to me about what happened,” Spy shrugged, eyes on the road.

Scout frowned further. “You callin’ me a liar?”

“No, I’m calling you a bad liar,” Spy said dryly.

“Well it’s true, that’s really what happened,” Scout said, a little offended.

“It doesn’t matter to me either way, I just wanted you to know that you need better cover stories if you want to continue getting away with your usual shenanigans.”

“Whatever, Spy,” Scout scoffed, glaring out the window.

About a minute and a half of complete silence. Scout got bored glancing around his side of the car and spent a good minute just picking at his cast before he realized he probably shouldn’t do that. He ended up reaching for the radio.

“No,” Spy droned.

“Aw, c’mon! Can’t we listen to something?” Scout complained. “It’s like forty minutes until we get back to base.”

“If you didn’t get in a bar fight and break your arm, it would be zero minutes. But you did, and I’m not listening to your terrible taste in music for forty minutes just because you can’t keep yourself out of trouble.”

Scout pouted over that for a minute or two before he thought of a good retort. “...Y’know, technically the guy probably only even jumped me because I was alone,” he said.

“Correct.”

“And I was only alone because you and all the other guys ditched me.”

“Succinct.”

“So this is kinda sorta basically your fault.”

Spy’s expression didn’t change. “...My fault?” he repeated.

“Yeah. If you didn’t ditch me, I wouldn’t have gotten jumped.”

Spy’s expression didn’t change.

“So you should let me turn on the radio.”

“Mon dieu, perhaps you should have been a lawyer,” he deadpanned.

Silence. “...So can I turn on the radio?”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Spy said, and Scout leaned over to fiddle with the dial, grinning.

He really didn’t think Spy would put up with the sort of stuff he usually listened to in the car, so he ended up putting on a station with something old enough that Spy probably didn’t hate it. And Spy didn’t turn it off or pull over to dump him on the side of the road, so apparently he picked something alright.

Ten minutes without talking. Scout looked out his window and tried to remember not to pick at his cast. Because he was looking out the window, he pretty easily caught sight of a sign advertising a diner.

He looked over at a Spy. Spy didn’t look back.

“Can we get diner food?” Scout asked.

“No,” Spy said.

“Please?” Scout asked.

“No,” Spy said.

“Please?” Scout asked.

“Tell me you aren’t seriously going to try this game,” Spy said, already looking annoyed. “You’re a grown man.”

“I’m hungry!”

“Then get something to eat at the base,” Spy said.

“I’m hungry and I have a broken arm and I’m gonna have to deal with Medic fixing my broken arm and also all the guys making fun of me. Can we please get diner food?” Scout asked,

Spy paused for a long moment. Scout’s eyes kept flicking between Spy and the upcoming exit. Spy sighed heavily and moved to take the exit. Scout cheered. “I can still change my mind,” Spy threatened. Scout shut up.

Scout double-checked his pockets for his wallet twice before they even pulled into the parking lot. It didn’t look particularly busy, but Spy didn’t pull up near the door anyways. He put the car into park and gave Scout the single most unimpressed look of his life.

“I’m giving you five minutes to order and get back in this car or I’m leaving without you,” he declared.

“Did you want anything?” Scout asked, fumbling with his seatbelt.

“Do I want terrible greasy American diner food?” Spy scoffed.

“Look, just thought I’d fuckin’ ask, alright? Jesus,” Scout mumbled, managing to get his seatbelt off. “And that doesn’t answer my question. Do you want anything?”

“Four minutes and fifty seconds,” Spy drawled, and Scout quickly got out of the car.

There wasn’t anyone in line, and luckily the diner was staffed by the kind of people who didn’t ask questions beyond giving a pointed glance towards his cast. He kept his order simple and kept an eye on the clock on the wall, and bolted back into the parking lot with the paper bag of food in hand wondering if Spy would seriously actually ditch him.

Surprisingly, Spy had left on the radio, and raised an eyebrow at him as he tried his best to bundle himself into the car one-handed. He managed to get his seatbelt on with only a minor scare about almost spilling the food, and promptly started digging through it as Spy pulled them back out of the parking lot.

“Here,” Scout chirped, holding something out to him. Spy frowned, glancing at his mirrors and taking what was being handed to him distractedly. They were out of the parking lot and back on the road by the time Spy actually looked at it.

“What is this?” he asked dryly, looking at the paper-wrapped something.

“Chicken sandwich,” Scout replied, pulling his own food out. “I uh, I think I got ketchup in here too—“

“Why did you get me a sandwich?”

“Why not?” Scout shrugged, unwrapping his burger and glancing it over before taking a bite and frowning. “Aw, man, I wanted cheese on this. Damn.”

“I didn’t ask for anything.”

“I mean, if you don’t want it, I’ll probably eat it.”

“No,” Spy said, and hesitated. He waited until they were at a stoplight before moving to unwrap the sandwich, glancing it over with a critical eye. Scout noticed that he didn’t take it completely out of the paper even when he did move to start eating it, instead using the paper to hold it. Probably worried about grease or something on his dumb gloves. Usually Scout would make fun of him about it, but he was pretty sure he was very close to getting kicked out of the car.

He wolfed down his hamburger (even without cheese) and started getting to work on his french fries, being extra careful due to the fact that he was pretty sure Spy would kill him if he dropped a fry in his nice, fancy, very very clean car.

He could only play it cool for so long once a joke occurred to him, though. He grinned, taking a fry and holding it between two fingers up near his face. “Hey, look, I’m you,” Scout joked, pretending to take a drag.

Spy spared him a glance and promptly rolled his eyes, returning to glaring at the road. “Not even close.”

“Aww, what?” Scout complained.

“First of all, I’m better dressed,” Spy quipped. “Second of all, I’m taller, and third of all, I didn’t get my arm put in a case because of a bar fight. Shall I continue? The list goes on.”

“Well why are you gettin’ personal about it?” Scout asked, bristling. “I was just makin’ a joke, sheesh.”

“How was I meant to know? Usually jokes are funny,” Spy said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Scout didn’t have a good comeback for that, just sinking in his seat and moving to look back out the window.

A good ten minutes of silence again, broken only by the radio and the hum of the car. Scout finished his fries and put his trash back in the bag the way that Spy seemed to be doing, then crossed his arms over himself and just looked out the window at all the nothing. Silence. Road.

Surprisingly, Spy spoke first. “You’ve missed two Volkswagen Beetles,” he noted.

Scout didn’t say anything.

“Usually when we pass one of those you punch me very hard on the arm and I almost crash the car because you’re an idiot.”

Scout sunk further in his seat, but didn’t say anything.

“Am I meant to gather from this that the way to get you to stop doing that is by making you angry with me? Because if so, clearly I’ll need to be much worse to you from now on if I want to keep this vehicle in one piece.”

“Like that’s even possible for you,” Scout said under his breath.

“I didn’t need to come pick you up from the hospital, nor did I need to let you turn on the radio, nor did I need to pull over to allow you to get food from the diner,” Spy pointed out. “All things considered, I’ve been very nice to you so far.”

“What a saint,” Scout mumbled sarcastically.

Silence. “Do you have something to say?”

“I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk about this, alright Spy?” Scout finally huffed.

“And why not?”

“Look, I’ve had a shitty night, okay?” Scout snapped, glaring hard at the desert outside the window. “I got my arm broken in a stupid bar because the guys got annoyed and ditched me and I was up until like four in the morning getting my arm set and put in a cast and then I had to sleep on a shitty bench in a hospital waiting room and then Miss P sent the one person on the planet who hates me more than anyone else to pick me up. I’m not fuckin’ doin’ this right now, okay? Just lay off.”

Silence. Thank god for the radio, or he would’ve suffocated in it.

“Surely I’m not the person who hates you the most in the world,” Spy said after a few moments. “There are nine men being paid to kill you on a daily basis. I’m sure they hate you much more than I do.”

Scout didn’t reply to that.

“And I’m sure none of them would have pulled over to let you get something to eat,” he added.

“Yeah, holy shit, your Peace Prize is in the mail,” Scout huffed.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Scout snapped, finally looking over at him. Spy couldn’t hold eye contact for long, needing to watch the road. “What was that supposed to mean?”

Spy sighed hard, looking extremely irritated. “It means that have you ever considered that perhaps the team worries when someone goes missing? And that occasionally your teammates might worry about you?”

“How was I supposed to know? Usually teammates are supposed to be nice,” Scout sassed, echoing Spy’s earlier joke.

He watched Spy take a measured inhale, a controlled exhale. When he spoke a long few seconds later, his voice was level. “Fine,” he said. “Alright. You’ve made your point.”

Scout just turned to look back out the window.

“...And I’m sorry we left you alone at the bar.”

His head whipped back around, eyebrows furrowed. Spy wasn’t looking at him.

“And I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier, and thank you for also getting me a sandwich when you didn’t need to,” Spy continued.

Scout waited a good few seconds for the catch, for the ‘gotcha’, for the punchline. For the part where Spy would twist the words around and hit him with something really biting once his guard was down. But nothing came. Just silence.

He needed a long moment to figure out how to reply. “...Thanks,” was all he could manage, and he knew it was lame, but Spy just shrugged and made no further comment.

Minutes of silence. Scout looked out the windshield, picked at his cast. “Punch buggy,” he quipped a few minutes later, slugging Spy on the shoulder with his good hand, and Spy made an appropriate sound of disgust and annoyance and offhandedly threatened to make him walk the rest of the way, but Scout just laughed.

#dad!spy #tf2 #team fortress 2 #my fanfiction #shut up me #everybody talks #spy orders one black coffee and keeps driving like the john mulaney bit

174 notes · View notes

werewolfharrington · 4 years

Note

Flower ask: also all of them. you get to suffer with me >:3€

oh darlin’ we’re in it now huh

Alisons: Sexuality?

homogay

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?

she/they | all gender will be shot on sight

Amaryllis: Birthday?

sept 23rd

Anemone: Favorite flower?

monkshood

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show?

stranger things or ghost adventures

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger?

like? distance? a couple miles probably

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes?

“We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little lifeIs rounded with a sleep.” William Shakespeare, The Tempest

Aubrieta: Favorite drink?

wild cherry capri sun

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

ima change that to ‘kiss the last person u thought abt kissing’ bc YES

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?

*jenna marbles voice* hell yeah!!

Baneberries: Favorite song?

waiting for the end - linkin park

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.

chaos

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it?

i have too many to list !!! brandi, kasey, you, liz, ivy, nick , just to name a few!!

Begonia: Favorite color?

blue uwu

Bellflower: Favorite animal?

foxes !! and opossums

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?

night time babey

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

either a fox or an opossum or a raven, i think

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

i wanted to be a vet !!!

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children?

theyre ok as long as theyre not screaming and/or mine

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why?

i don’t liike vomit bc. nastey (trauma i think) and i don’t like old ppl well. i dunno why? they’re just so old and fragile and helpless and sometimes they’re really mean and idk i think it’s like something to do w death or something LMAO idk. also i just hate the idea of becoming old and having to rely on other people ?? hhh

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.

i was bullied a lot

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?

realistically? probably playing dead by daylight with my girlfriend ADFSGRHYUTR

Buttercup: Relationship Status?

happily taken

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

ireland, scotland, alaska, greece

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved?

whenever my friends or family tells me they love me but esp when u text me goodmorning or when we say our goodnights sorry im gay haha

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?

i have. uuuuhh 6

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?

no!!! i want some tho :(

California Poppy: Height?

i think im like. 5′5 or something? give or take an inch ?

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?

oh absolutely. my house is haunted as we speak

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?

bmth hoodie and pajama pants w foxes all over them. i just woke up lol

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?

yeah i always keep one on in the bathroom

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?

my sister bc she came home from college yesterday

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed?

ask me in like. a little over a month from now ;)

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

FONT??? the animal crossing font

Columbine: Are you tired?

oh absolutely

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?

thanksgiving, christmas, seeing my gf, magfest

Coneflower: Dream job?

idk if it’s a job but i just wanna own like. a ranch that takes in all sorts of animals and takes care of them

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert?

introvert

Crocus: Have you ever been in love?

ooooh yeah

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about?

i mean. depends on what they want/need. distance wise? i’d travel the known universe for u

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it?

he was a plaid teddy bear his name was Stanley!!!! i miss him :( but now i have Little Moon God as my favourite stuffed animal

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?

Libro

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?

Working in Yellowstone is something I’ll never forget

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment?

well. hmm. i was gonna say flying to yellowstone but maybe driving to north carolina by myself bc driving long distances alone to places i haven’t been before gives me hella anxiety (i’m better now)

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?

i don’t pay rent in this house to listen to their opinions lmao.

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?

you, i think, when we said goodnight last night!!! EDIT: you this morning!!

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at?

being bad at dead by daylight

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?

dead by daylight

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?

(little over a month now but uhhh) GOT A UH ......GIRL.....FRIEND ...... GOT TO VISIT GIRLFRIEND ........ and got the windshield finally replaced in my car

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

i dont know! so far ive laid in bed now im at my computer answering this. not too bad. my shift is only 4 hours today.

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?

for the most part, i’m pretty content, yeah

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two?

MOVE OUT

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life?

my friends, my mom, my sisters, my girlfriend, my bastard dog

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?

metal

Hellebore: How do you show affection?

what does this mean. physically, i’m very affectionate, i just. don’t show it alot bc anxiety/i overthink. that and i constantly tell ppl i love them and what they mean to me

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of?

whoever is reading this

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day.

wake up next 2 a cute girl. take way too long to get up. go climb mountain w cute girl. vibe on mountain w cute girl. go to waffle house 2gether. gome home and vibe. play video games or watch a movies/tv w cute girl.

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?

i like to make art or play bideo jame

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them?

oh gosh i dunno. the ones i’ve known the longest are kasey and brandi, and i’ve known them both around/over a decade i think. we met in middle/highschool!

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything?

you, ivy, liz

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?

so many

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?

idk man but i remember when you said u had a crush on me and then i posted a selfie and u were like ‘OH NO SHE’S CUTE” and like ??? idk i think that was definitely the first compliment to ever shock me LMAO

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself?

6.9/10

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

my tattoos

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGGViLwHEUk

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?

i liked to play zombies ate my neighbors on the sega genesis !!!!

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid?

eliza !!!! we lost touch a few years after i moved away :(

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for?

ima be real everything makes me feel guilty

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?

aaaaaa the whole abi/moon incident

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?

my name is fox. it means i like foxes

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.

northern virginia babey !!!! that place fucking sucks!!! but everyone who lives up there thinks they’re hot shit.

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?

i had a bunkbed and i think the walls were pink

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?

😬 i’m just gonna say i’m much happier now and i’m coping with life and shit a lot better

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

she’s sweet and funny and i love her so much!! she always does the Most for everyone, sometimes to the point where she isn’t concerned abt herself and i see where i get it from. but yeah my mom is great, my dad doesn’t deserve her

Onions: Tell about your dad.

source of a lot of trauma and why i have so many issues regarding men. i don’t wanna talk about him anymore LOL he doesn’t deserve the attention

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.

my dad’s mom is becoming senile and i think she’s racist and queerphobic. my mom’s parents disowned her a few years ago so we don’t talk to them anymore

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable?

i dunno. i don’t try to remember my birthdays. whenever i can go to busch gardens for my birthday i usually have a lot of fun there.

Peony: What was your first job?

if you don’t wanna count working w my mom as a florist, target was my first job back in 2016. i found my name tag the other day , actually

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?

WELL, i know you followed me on here first. and then twitter?? but we didn’t really start talking until stranger things 3 came out (thank u stranger things) PHYSICALLY, we didn’t meet until fursonacon (haha. i remember when u texted me that u got to the hotel and i came down to help n i saw u unloading yr car and it was then that my brain was like OH NOOOOOOOO and my heart was like OH YEEEEAAAAAAAH)

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?

physical, mental, or emotional? i play a video game or listen to loud music

Pink: Where is home?[

somewhere in appalachia i can feel it in my stupid soul

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change?

idk man i’m pretty content w where i’m at now so

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them.

chester bennington

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

i have a waife and we have many great pets and we live in a log cabin in the mountains or in a nice victorian in a small town or something IDK but we’re happy and that’s all that matters

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child?

God

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life?

my mom, me best friends, my girlfriend

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?

my girlfriend’s laugh because it’s THE cutest shit and then when she giggles??? oh my heart

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

oct 23rd, 2005, we brought Fat Boy Zack home !!!!

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?

July 22nd, 2016. i was 2200 miles away

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?

to be holding my girlfriend >:(

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things?

hhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?

those i hold dear

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?

enough, i guess?

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?

my girlfriend

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?

it’s fucking BORING and TOO EASY and they don’t pay me ENOUGH but i can get away with so much shit there so ima still go, ima still go

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?

all of the flannels currently in my possession

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.

mountains, woods, forests, cabins, autumn, cryptic, occult, victorian, edwardian

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you?

if someone gets me a gift i’m legally required to execute them

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?

this 40hr workweek i got coming up

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?

i have not read in So Long

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?

Moved out away from here lol, we’ll see

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is?

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.

i’m a furry

that was SO LONG im sorry i also put you through that but THANK YOU ENJOY READING ILU

#littlecation #ask #long post

8 notes · View notes

thisstableground · 5 years

Note

fic prompts? i can do that! how about a piece abt the different endearments the trio call each other (if you need a character to focus on, maybe usnavi?)

[I’ll put in a read more because it got a bit lengthy. This was a fun one! Comments appreciated

Usnavi is of the opinion that names are very important. His name’s the first thing he got from his parents and even if he eventually loses everything else they left him he’ll always have that. Their Usnavi, their little one, pequeño. Abuela’s mijito, endearment stronger than blood. All ways to recognise that a name given is more than just a string of letters.

Nicknames come to him as easy as breathing so it’s no surprise that a very short way into his not-quite-a-relationship with Vanessa, he goes to meet her at the park and instead of “good morning, Vanessa” it’s “good morning, querida.” He doesn’t even think about it until Vanessa raises both her eyebrows and says “querida? Oof, didn’t know we were at that level.”

Usnavi’s heart sinks. “¿No lo somos? Which level is nicknames? Did—was it weird? I’m sorry! I didn’t know there was a level! I call everyone nicknames! I call-called Abuela and Mamá querida too sometimes, it ain’t like it’s just a romantic thing, it’s just…you know, hi, you’re someone I…enjoy spendin’ time with, this is a nightmare, I’m just gonna leave and come back and we’ll pretend that never happened, ¿bueno? Bueno.” He makes to skedaddle from his own runaway tongue getting him in trouble and she grabs him by the shoulder.

“Alright, chill out, I just wasn’t expectin’ it,” she says. “S’just a name. You could fuckin’ call me Keith for all I care.”

He doesn’t do that, but Vanessa, Usnavi learns, really means it when she says she doesn’t give a shit about her name, first middle or last. She doesn’t like Nessa, says it makes her sound like the Loch Ness monster, but other than that she’s indifferent. He calls her Vanessa and V and querida. She doesn’t call him anything but Usnavi or, if she’s teasing, De la Vega, and he’s pretty sure he knows why. Not that they’ve talked all that much about her mom but they grew up together, ain’t like Usnavi needs it spelled out that endearments probably ain’t something she’s been used to from birth like he is.

Well. She does use one. And to be honest, it’s one Usnavi hates, not for the word itself but because of how she says it, why she says it.

“Aw, sweetie”. Usnavi trips over his own feet, fumbles his words, tries to make a romantic gesture, aw, sweetie. The word’s an endearment, the tone is anything but. He knows it’s just a joke, and just that she doesn’t know how to react when she’s uncomfortable, but she might as well pat him on the head and shove a lollipop in his mouth to shut him up.

He puts up with it, silently. Like, hello, he’s dating the girl of his dreams, no way in hell is he gonna call her out and ruin everything when it’s a miracle she’s with him to begin with. They ain’t even official, it’s no time to be rocking the boat from just this one tiny thing. Just that one tiny thing that’s kind of like one tiny little kick in the balls every time she does it. Tiny bit painful and tiny bit nauseating because he’s just a motormouth idiot hitting way above his station and every aw sweetie says to him you moron, why are you even trying. It works its way right into all Usnavi’s insecurities and pulls strings until one too many aw-sweeties later he finally snaps “I don’t like it when you treat me like I’m stupid, Vanessa!” and instantly thinks well now I’ve really fucked it, ain’t I?

“What?” she says, looking absolutely baffled. “I wasn’t!”

She was, though, and he can’t back down on it. Usnavi might not be the brightest bulb on the block but he’s got some self-respect, at least, to know he don’t wanna be condescended to. He tells her as much. She turns right back on him and informs him that actually it’s just as sucky to be treated like a glass statue up on a pedestal, and he cringes because shit, he kind of does do that, doesn’t he?

Through the subsequent argument - their first ever argument - he’s absolutely convinced she’s gonna leave him. He can see the same panic in Vanessa’s eyes: they both want this to work, so badly. Badly enough that fighting turns into talking for a long time, and somehow talking turns into a turning point. From tiptoeing across thin ice to something solid, they iron things out and make some compromises and he thought he was falling before but now he’s slipping head over fucking heels like Bambi. She doesn’t call him sweetie in that voice any more and he doesn’t treat her like she’s more trophy than human, or at least they both try their best. He starts calling her out when he needs to and she starts calling him her boyfriend and he calls her nicknames in a torrent and in response starts getting a faint hint of a confused, happy smile like she’s finally realising he means all of them. He means all of them so much: she isn’t perfect, she’s Vanessa, better than perfect could ever be.

“Hola, mi preciosa,” he says when she comes in the bodega, because she truly is preciosa, linda, hermosa. She says, “hey, honey,” with a fond little crinkle of her eyes and Usnavi instantly turns into honey himself, sweet and melted so like fuckin spread him on some toast and leave him on a plate because he could listen to her say that from now till sun-up and still want to hear it again.

He wraps her in a bear hug and says, “you called me honey!”

“So?!” she says, fierce, then apologetically adds “I didn’t mean it in a condescendin’ way.”

“No, I know you didn’t,” he says, still holding her tight. “I just like the way it sounds like…like you really like me.”

“I do like you, dumbass,“ she says, squeezing him tightly.

Somehow, dumbass doesn’t bother him the way sweetie did. There’s only a very subtle difference, but it’s a very important subtle difference. They’re learning each others languages and Usnavi builds a whole dictionary of Vanessa. Dumbass: you can be a real mess sometimes but that’s why I like you. Honey: it’s gonna be okay, I got your back. Baby: take your pants off and get on the bed.

Babe, ubiquitous and almost unnoticeable: babe, I’m not one of those girls who calls anyone and everyone babe, but you’re an exception. Babe, its not the time to get too deep into feelings so this just a quick reminder. Babe, casually making sure everyone in this room knows you’re mine.

Babe, that giveaway when Ruben works his way into their lives that Usnavi ain’t the only one with a crush. it feels as good hearing her say it to Ruben as it does when she says it to Usnavi.

Ruben hold his own name as possessively as Usnavi keeps his, or even more so. Usnavi’s name is like the bodega, his first but everyone else’s too. Ruben’s name is Ruben’s and it ain’t to be played with, it’s been used against him too much before so he doesn’t put it into anyone else’s hands. He doesn’t play with other people’s names either and that’s okay: Ruben gives them a soft sunshine look and says “Usnavi,” just that, just “Vanessa”. Ruben knows how important a name is and he treats theirs with the same care he treats his own and a whole lot more affection.

Usnavi defaults to Spanish for Ruben, things that they wouldn’t have ever used against him to attach a bad memory to. Hermoso, lindo, guapo. They’re usually received with a sarcastic snort and a you should probably get your eyes checked, but it ain’t the reaction that Rubes gets and Ruben doesn’t say he wants it to stop so Usnavi persists. If Vanessa can learn to believe all the nice things he says about her then Ruben damn sure can too. Whether that lesson ever holds Ruben at least stops disagreeing, so the nicknames just become part of the fabric of the relationship.

“Hey there, hermoso,” Usnavi says, like he says every morning, and sits down opposite Ruben for breakfast.

Ruben puts down his toast and tugs gently on his beard with a deep frown on his face until Usnavi throws a Froot Loop at his head to make him stop. “Hey!”

Usnavi throws a second one. “Froot Loop for your thoughts?”

“Should I be calling you nicknames?”

“Guess that depends what kinda nickname you’re thinkin’ of,” Usnavi says. “Sonny used to call me Ewwww-snavi, hated that.”

“No, like endearments,” Ruben explains. “Boyfriendy ones.”

“Do you want to call us boyfriendy endearments?”

“I don’t know if I can pull it off.”

Vanessa shuffles in and Usnavi nudges Ruben encouragingly under the table with his toes. “Only one way to find out.”

“What?” Usnavi motions to Vanessa and Ruben goes, “oh! Right, of course,” then winces even before he says “hey…baaabe? Nope.”

Vanessa wrinkles her nose.

Ruben looks dejected. “It sounded weird, right?”

“Yup,” Vanessa agrees, ruffling Rubens hair as she passes. “Appreciate the attempt, though.”

“I don’t hate it,” Usnavi says diplomatically. “It’s just not very…you.”

“Hmmmm,” Ruben says.

***

Babe makes it’s way out once or twice in the bedroom, and even if it’s not very Ruben it definitely works for him there, although in fairness when things get to that point Usnavi’s usually gone enough he’d probably be into it if one of them called him Donkey Kong, bone-logic’s no reasonable metric for anything. Other than that, Ruben doesn’t follow up on his nickname quest for quite a while.

After their Christmas from hell, though, slowly, tentatively he starts slipping in a few. Cariño, querido, querida. Low-stakes ones, always a hint of a question like he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to be saying it. Always like it’s not quite right on his tongue. Sometimes he laments his inability to make it sound sincere to them, and Vanessa advises him not to force it. Usnavi thinks he’s just gotta find the right one.

Meantime ain’t like nobody’s doubting Ruben loves them. It shows in other ways, like for instance him putting up with Usnavi in a car for fifty hours when they head Californiawards to visit Vanessa, or sleeping with them on this shitty airbed that definitely wasn’t made to withstand three people even though it makes his back hurt, and not cussing Usnavi out when he tries to escape from said airbed for a midnight bathroom trip and ends up elbowing Ruben ungracefully awake in the process.

“Sorry, querido!” Usnavi whispers, giving up on elegance and army-crawling over Ruben instead until he’s on solid enough ground to stand. The sudden shift in weight distribution brings Vanessa rolling sharply into Ruben and she raises her head with her eyes still closed to make an unhappy sound into the air. Ruben smiles up at Usnavi, barely awake, one eye just squinting slightly open, then curls an arm round Vanessa who looks both pissed off and bemused and only about three percent conscious.

“It’s just Usnavi,” Ruben murmurs to her. “Go back to sleep, love.”

Vanessa doesn’t seem to notice it, slinging a leg over Ruben’s and burrowing against him back into hibernation, but even second-hand Usnavi’s hit with such a wave of affection that he knows that one is right. Love. A half-asleep sincerity, a simplicity that’s perfectly Ruben, and Usnavi knows that one’s going to stick.

#fandom: do no harm/in the heights #ship: usnavi/vanessa/ruben #sophia writes fic #im gonna write a proper fic about the start of v/u's relationship #including that argument I briefly mentioned there #some day when i get round to it #along with my million other WIPS #character: ruben #character: vanessa #character: usnavi #magicalmayhems

16 notes · View notes

bartsugsy · 6 years

Note

What’s your favourite Robron moment ?? 😊

OK YOU SENT THIS DAYS AGO AND IT’S BEEN STRESSING ME OUT BECAUSE HOW DOES ONE (1) HUMAN CHOOSE A SINGLE MOMENT???? answer: they do not choose a single moment

ANYWAY RULES ARE FOR LOSERS HERE’S 20 RANDOM MOMENTS I LOVE:

20. THAT TIME DURING THE AFFAIR ERA WHERE ROBERT WAS LIKE HEY AARON AFTER I’M MARRIED WE’RE STOPPING THIS I’M BREAKING UP WITH YOU AND THAT’S THAT AND AARON WAS LIKE ok but what if we didn’t AND ROBERT WAS LIKE OK GOOD POINT WELL MADE GUESS WE SHOULD MEET IN A BARN AND BANG ON THE DAY OF MY WEDDING THIS CAN ONLY GO WELL

19. THAT TIME WHEN ROBERT PAID AN INSANE AMOUNT OF MONEY TO HELP AARON FIND SANDRA BC HE NEEDED HER FOR HIS CASE AND THEN REFUSED TO LET AARON GO TO SEE SANDRA ALONE AND WAS JUST GENUINELY QUIETLY SUPPORTIVE. AND THEY STILL LOVED EACH OTHER AND AARON FELT THAT AND FELT LIKE HE HAD TO KISS ROBERT THEN AND THERE BECAUSE HE DIDN’T REALISE THAT ROB WOULD WAIT FOR HIM TO SORT HIS SHIT OUT FIRST BUT ROB EXPLICITLY CLARIFIED FOR HIM THAT HE WASN’T GOING ANYWHERE

18. A LITTLE EARLIER IN THAT ERA, WHEN AARON WAS HIDING OUT IN IRELAND AND ROBERT WOULD JUST WALK INTO EVERY SCENE DEMANDING TO KNOW WHERE AARON WAS. EVERY SINGLE SCENE.

17. THAT TIME AARON SPOKE HORRIBLE FRENCH (HE LIVED IN FRANCE FOR Y E A R S HOW DID HE COPE) AND ROB WAS LIKE ........i’m dating the hottest man alive?

16. THAT TIME ROBERT LITERALLY GAVE UP HIS COMPANY AND HIS ENTIRE FUCKIN HOUSE JUST TO GET AARON BACK BC HE WAS SO TERRIFIED FOR HIS SAFETY

15. THAT TIME DURING THE AFFAIR WHEN ROBERT FINANGLED IT SO THAT ALL OF THE WHITES WENT ON HOLIDAY AND HE JUST FULL ON MOVED AARON INTO HOME FARM AND THEY ACTED LIKE A FULL ON MARRIED COUPLE FOR THE ENTIRE WEEK, LIKE THE MOST INSANE PREVIEW OF THEIR FUTURE EVER DESIGNED

14. THAT TIME!!!! LACHLAN THREATENED ROBERT!!! SO AARON JUST FUCKIN???? KIDNAPPED???? HIM?????????? A LITERAL TEENAGER???????????? AARON KIDNAPPED A FUCKIN TEENAGER BC HE THREATENED TO PUT ROBERT IN JAIL (and yes used methods that hit v close to home for aaron to do so) BUT HONESTLY HE SHOVED A TEENAGER INTO HIS BOOT BC??? SURE?????? they’re both insane

13. OH YEAH THAT TIME ROBERT BURNED 100K BECAUSE AARON, FEELING ANNOYED AND PETTY, INSINUATED THAT ROBERT LOVED MONEY MORE THAN AARON AND FRANKLY AARON IS ONE OF THE ONLY PEOPLE ROBERT DOESN’T PUT MONEY AHEAD OF (or he used to, before he Grew As A Person tm) (i’m sure that won’t stick

12.THAT TIME THEY GOT MARRIED

11. ROBERT JUST WANTED TO THROW AARON THIS MASSIVE SYMBOLIC SHOW OF LOVE AND DEVOTION BEFORE HE WENT TO PRISON AND HE WANTED IT TO BE PERFECT AND WHEN IT WASN’T HE WENT OFF IN A STROP BUT AARON COULD LITERALLY GET MARRIED TO ROBERT WHILST STANDING IN A PILE OF LITERAL RUBBISH AND BE HAPPY BC AARON DOESNT CARE HE JUST WANTS TO BE MARRIED (ROBERT ALSO JUST WANTS TO BE MARRIED BUT HE HAS STANDARDS OK) AND SO AARON WENT AFTER HIM AND TALKED HIM DOWN AND THEN THEY JUST SAID FUCK IT AND GOT MARRIED ALONE, IN A PLACE THAT WAS SPECIAL TO THEM, BECAUSE IT WAS LITERALLY JUST FOR THEM AND ABOUT THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER??? AND IT WAS ABOUT KNOWING THAT AFTER PRISON THEY’D STILL COME BACK TO ONE ANOTHER????? AND THAT TOOK LONGER THAN EXPECTED (WAY LONGER) (AND WAS A LOT MESSIER) BUT IT STILL HAPPENED BC THEIR FUTURES ARE WITH ONE ANOTHER AND THEY EARNED THAT AND BOTH FOUGHT FOR EACH OTHER MASSIVELY

10. THAT TIME AARON WAS IN HOSPITAL DURING SSW AND ROBERT SAT IN THE WAITING ROOM WITH CHAS AND LOOKED DEVASTATED BC HE COULD LOSE THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE NBD. ROBERT WAS SO SAD BUT ALSO SO FRUSTRATED WITH HIMSELF AND HE FINALLY GOT TO EXPRESS HIS REGRETS OVER THE AFFAIR ERA AND HOW MUCH ~TIME HE WASTED FUCKIN AROUND BC HE WAS SCARED AND ALSO LBR WANTED THAT WHITE MONEY AND POWER WHEN INSTEAD HE COULD HAVE JUST BEEN FUCKIN HAPPY AND LIVING HIS LIFE WITH AARON, WHICH IS ULTIMATELY THE ONLY FUTURE HE WANTS FOR HIMSELF AND AALDHSDFOH THE JOURNEY!! ROBERT SUGDEN!!!! HAS BEEN ON!!!!!!! IS SO GOOD FIGHT ME

9. SPEAKING OF HOSPITALS, THAT TIME ROBERT GOT HIT BY A CAR AND AARON FUCKIN RACED TO THE HOSPITAL AND CRIED AT ROB’S BEDSIDE DESPITE HAVING OSTENSIBLY MOVED ON FROM ROBERT BC HEY NEWSFLASH AARON NEVER STOPPED LOVING ROBERT JACOB SUGDEN. AND THEN THEY PROMISED TO BE FRIENDS AND ROBERT TOLD AARON HE’D BE THE BEST FRIEND HE’D EVER HAVE AND I DIED.

8. THAT TIME THEY JOKED ABOUT ANAL SEX IN THE SCRAPYARD #GAYCULTURE

7. THAT TIME!!!! ROBERT WENT TO A GAY BAR!!! TO TRY AND GET OVER AARON!!!! BUT BECAUSE AARON IS A FUCKIN LUNATIC WHO, AGAIN, NEVER STOPPED LOVING ROBERT JACOB SUGDEN, AARON FOLLOWED HIM AND THEN JUST SORT OF LURKED IN THE SHADOWS LOOKING SAD AND ESSENTIALLY WAS PREPARED TO TORTURE HIMSELF WITH WATCHING ROB PICK UP A DUDE BC HE COULDN’T STOP ROBERT BUT ALSO, INTERNALLY, HE REALLY WANTED TO STOP ROBERT

6. OH AND THEN AARON SAW ROB GO OUTSIDE ALONE AND TOOK HIS CHANCE TO SAY SOMETHING AND THEY JUST SORT OF SADLY FLIRTED WITH EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEY BOTH DESPERATELY WANTED TO BE TOGETHER??? AND FELT THAT THEY COULDN’T BE???? BUT STILL COULDN’T NOT FLIRT WITH ONE ANOTHER????????

5. THAT TIME AARON WAS LIKE HEY ROBERT DON’T COME TO COURT WITH ME AND ROB WAS LIKE .....YEAH WHATEVER AND THEN SHOWED UP IN COURT ANYWAY AND AARON WAS LIKE ??? BUT ALSO :’) AND ROB WAS JUST LIKE LOL SINCE WHEN DO I EVER LISTEN TO U

4. THAT TIME THEY TOOK THEMSELVES OFF TO A HOTEL AND THEN LEFT IT IN A LITERAL STATE??? AND THEN JOKED ABOUT IT???? BC THEY SPENT ALL NIGHT BANGING????? AND AARON HAD LITERALLY FORCED ROBERT TO TURN HIS PHONE OFF BC CLEARLY ROBERT HAS A PROBLEM #relatable #me (oh and meanwhile gerry was dying but yk we’re talking abt robron here)

3. GDI THAT TIME WHEN ROBERT LITERALLY THOUGHT HE HAD GOTTEN AWAY WITH SLEEPING WITH REBECCA AND STILL TOLD AARON THE TRUTH ANYWAY BC HE JUST??? COULDN’T LIE TO HIS HUSBAND???????? ROBERT, WHO LIED ABOUT EVERYTHING??? AND AARON UNDERSTOOD THAT GROWTH DESPITE OBVIOUSLY BEING HEARTBROKEN AND DEVASTATED RIP, BC AARON KNOWS ROBERT. THEY KNOW EACH OTHER SO WELL!!!!!

2. THAT TIME WHEN AARON WAS SO ANNOYED THAT HE COULDN’T BONE ROBERT IN PEACE THAT HE DECIDED TO SUGGEST THEY MOVE IN TOGETHER AND THEN THEY (ULTIMATELY) FUCKIN DID AND THEN ROB WAS LIKE HEEEEY TIME 2 PROPOSE AND PLANNED THIS INSANE PLAN INVOLVING ALL OF THE BREAD IN THE VILLAGE TO SHOW AARON JUST HOW MUCH HE LOVES HIM BC HE DOES

1.5 WAIT I HAVE TWO MORE HOLY SHIT THAT TIME!!!!!!!!! THEY LITERALLY!!!!!!!!!!!! BOTH PLANNED TO PROPOSE TO ONE ANOTHER????? AT THE SAME TIME????????? IN THE EXACT SAME WAY?????????????? WHO ARE THEY WHAT IS THIS???? DID THEY LITERALLY LIKE.... HAVE THIS CONVERSATION MID-BONE???? WHY WERE THEY BOTH THINKING ABOUT PROPOSING AT THE SAME TIME WITH THE SAME PLAN TO GO BACK TO WHERE THEY FIRST KISSED???? AND THEIR FAMILIES, WHEN THEY FOUND THIS OUT, WERE JUST LIKE ....oh lol AND THEN NEVER MENTIONED HOW FUCKING INSANE THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS THAT THIS IS WHAT THEY DID gdi who are they. OH AND THEN THEY ACCIDENTALLY??? ENDED UP AT THE LAY-BY ANYWAY????? BECAUSE ROBERT’S CAR ACTUALLY BROKE THE FUCK DOWN BC GOD CLEARLY SHIPS IT OR SOME SHIT AND THEN AARON WAS LIKE lol where are we never seen it before x EVEN THOUGH NOT 24 HOURS EARLIER HE WAS WAXING LYRICAL TO LIV OVER HOW ROMANTIC IT WOULD BE TO TAKE ROBERT TO THAT VERY SPOT AND FUCKIN ASK HIM TO MARRY HIM. AGAIN. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALREADY FUCKIN MARRIED?????? god they’re lunatics. OH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND THEN ROB WENT TO PROPOSE AND AARON LITERALL GOT ANNOYED BC HE WAS LIKE NO IT’S MY TURN BACK OFF SUGDEN AND THEN THEY SAID IT AT THE SAME FUCKIN TIME bc they’re literally just insane i can’t deal with them.

1. that time aaron made a speech about how robert jacob sugden, knowing every terrible thing he’s ever done and having been victim to his stupidity, manipulation, hunger for power and money and general terribleness, is still a good person who deserves love bc as much as aaron knows the bad that robert’s done, he also knows all of the good and just how far he’s come - and robert knows now, bc he’s done so much to try and be a better person for aaron and for their family and now he literally is actually sort of proud of the person he’s become and so much of that is aaron’s influence and like... aaron makes robert a better person by loving him as much as he does and robert in return loves aaron more than anything and they both recognise this love within each other and does it literally go beyond common sense? yes. are they basically a cautionary tale as to why maybe there is such a thing as too much love? u know they are. but are they perfect for each other? RIP YES THEY ARE THIS ISN’T GOING UNDER A CUT READ THIS ENTIRE POST AND SUFFER WITH ME GDI

#THEY'RE IN LVOE.#i went on a trip this morning and frankly i don't regret it #robron #georginaalicee #long post #im not joking im not putting this under a cut robron's love is too big for any one cut 2 hold

155 notes · View notes

coalessscence · 5 years

Text

one of my favorite worst things to Think About are the ways herb’s casually neglectful childhood sometimes just....surfaces in the every day world of his life now. and since his whole shtick is my childhood was perfect my father is basically god and i have absolutely no parent issues idk what ur talking abt, he winds up having to flail, having to learn on the way down, and try to keep up a cover that he knew all along. which, usually, doesn’t work, and just makes it all the more sad. here’s a few examples i’ve thought of because i don’t love myself:

someone around the station gets stuck with something metal and comments they might need a tetanus shot. herb was definitely never taken to the doctor’s for a checkup and regular vaccinations as a child, and since he works daytime hours lucille takes the kids while he’s at work, so he literally has never had a shot and he doesn’t fully understand what vaccines are, aside from cultural osmosis, so he asks in telling confusion, “what’s that supposed to mean?” @piper-aileen-lenox specifically, thnx for making me think of this and ruining my life xx

when herb and lucille moved in together (i imagine they were engaged but maybe not married just yet) lucille made it clear to her rather sexist fiance that she was expecting him to tow the line around the house just as much as her, which he agreed to, except when she asked him to do the grocery shopping thinking that was a harmless thing he could do (not like she’d trust him to actually get the dishes clean or fold her clothes so they don’t wrinkle). they almost never had food consistently in the house growing up and if they did eat full meals, they only had the food for THAT MEAL around because 1. herb sr. and ruby (herb’s parents) lived an erratic lifestyle of little to no money or a whole lot of money but only for a second because it was burning a hole in herb sr.’s pocket, and because 2. ruby quickly learned spending money on food ahead was pointless because either herb sr. hecked off somewhere w/o warning and it went bad, or his deadbeat friends hung around and ate it all, so she only bought for that day if they had the money for anything. but since no one was ever around to TEACH herb anything and he figured most things out on his own, herb doesn’t understand all this and he literally thinks you’re not supposed to by food until you run out or that you have to throw out whatever you have left at the end of the week because....... who knows ???? that’s just what he thought. it caused multiple arguments early into herb and lucille’s relationship before she figured it out and explained it to him because he didn’t know well enough to ask.

when herb and lucille’s first child, bunny, was born, he had to be shown how to hold a baby by the doctor. he had literally never held or even interacted with a baby before until that moment. he had no siblings (that he knew of), he had no friends as a child because if he wasn’t the bully he was the target and he was an ass just like dear old dad so no one liked him anyway, and he had 0 other family. lucille realized in that moment as she watched his palpable confusion when she extended their newborn child to him that he was going to have a lot of learning and growing to do. she hoped he was ready for it.

god that time there was a station fam barbecue early into herb’s wkrp career and someone, maybe mr. carlson, is like ‘WHO WANTS TO BE THE GRILL MASTER’ like its a big deal and everyone is like oh it has to be herb bc he’s the newest out of us and hes aware all the men see it as a status symbol and he CAN’T be less of a man than another man bc Ego (tm) so hes like of course im the grill master !!! and then panics for the next thirty minutes because he’s literally never even stood next to a grill let alone used one HOW DOES IT WORK the first fifteen minutes he doesnt even have the gas on rip

when herb was, like, 15, he taught himself how to drive a car because one of his “friends” (peers who was a bully that he called a friend and hung out with to stop also getting bullied but who was still bullying him anyway, herb was just brainwashed into thinking that’s what friendship is) wanted them to go out cruising and herb wanted to be a Cool Guy and not look like a chump so he lied and said he could drive. they got pulled over, because of course they did, and herb got in big trouble for you know, driving w/o a licences. the kicker though is that herb didn’t fucking know you can’t drive without a license or that licenses and road tests and drivers ed were even a THING because he literally raised himself and no one ever t a u g h t h i m a n y t h i n g. anyways his dad got called home to deal with it from wherever he was away at at the time and he got in big trouble for interrupting dear old dad’s work anyways so :) what a healthy family

surprisingly, herb DID know how to cook the basics. grilled cheese, pasta, stir fries, a couple casseroles. lucille asked him about it because he was always such a Gender Roles (tm) type of man who wouldn’t even wear a brighter shade of red than like. maroon. in case it got loosely contaminated with the concept of the color pink and he’d have to change his name and move to alaska. so why was he doing a “ womans job “ (cooking) and herb just looked confused and said “what, guys don’t cook?” she told him that no, they usually didn’t and would have laughed at her if she tried to make them, and he laughed awkwardly and absently stirred the pot on the stove and shrugged in mild confusion. “that’s weird. if i didn’t cook i’d have... starved, i guess.”

the bad news is his cooking wasnt GREAT and lucille was happy to take over because again.........self taught. and he has one (1) brain cell so. not Great

LITERALLY DIDN’T KNOW ALL CLOTHES DON’T HAVE TO BE DRY CLEANED. his dad literally wore clothes that had to be dry cleaned Every Day (and we wonder why the tarlek family was short on the food budget god) (and they were ugly clothes too akdhfjfg) and ofc if ruby washed her clothes, it was while herb was at school. he dry cleaned so many clothes that do Not Make Sense to dry clean in college before he slowly figured that out.

did not know what an allowance was. bunny asked him for one and not willing to seem stupid to his swift daughter he told her to ‘ask her mother’, who thought it was hecking weird that her money obsessed husband would say that, so she asked him why and after several long minutes he just shrugged helplessly and said “what’s an allowance?”

don’t even get me started on herb and lucille planning their wedding ( ‘what kind of stuff should we put on the gift register?’ “put on the WHAT?” ‘what are we going to put on top of the cake?’ “there’s gonna be CAKE?” ‘i can’t wait for daddy to walk down the isle with me, it’ll mean a lot to him’ “your DAD is gonna walk you down the isle....?? but you’re marrying ME, right?” ) also herb not knowing the wedding look of the bride is supposed to be a Secret and barging into the room w a question or smth while lucille and her bridesmaids are getting ready, and everyone is hella miffed and he’s like WHAT i’ve seen her naked before and theyre all like THATS NOT THE POINT HERB

herb did Not Know about seasonal allergies. he just........didn’t know. he just thought god hated him and every spring and fall his head sprung a leak. and the whole time he was growing up no one A. listened to him complain about them and put 2 and 2 together, nor B. just taught him about basic first aid stuff in general for that matter he doesnt know shit. anyways, then lucille was like why are you such a tough guy just stop complaining and take some medicine for your stupid allergies and he was like take some what for my what now

ANYWAYS herb’s mom left while he was v young and he doesn’t remember much about her. herb’s dad was literally n e v e r home. the people herb’s dad left him with would work for obscenely low amounts of pay or owed herb sr. money and largely used all the money for their own food, drugs, alcohol, or other more unsightly business, and left herb alone to fend for himself. this is the disaster human that that produced, thanks, family dynamics! don’t abandon your children, kids, thanks for coming to my ted talk

#✘ hi gorgeous | MUSE (herb)#✘ h.t. is in for the duration | HEADCANONS (herb)#✘ sales manager not so extraordinaire | ABOUT (herb)#⌲ o o c

1 note · View note

lovroot · 6 years

Text

my dad teaching me how to drive? bad idea!

i don’t wanna bother anybody so imma just vent abt it underneath the cut and delete it after like an hour probs

like! i knew it was gonna be a bad idea but my mom’s working and i need to know how to drive so i was like okay it can’t be that bad and we just went to this loop near by middle school to practice. but like! everything! he says! sounds angry! he can be so angry and loud sometimes and ihonestly just shut down whenever it’s directed at me. like it was in park and i accidentally stepped on the gas pedal instead of the brake to shift gears and i immediately took it off but he was immediately like what are u doing and i was like sorry i forgot (which it’s been like three weeks since i last drove bc my aunt was in the hospital for a long time and this was only my third time but i guess i’m stupid) and he started going off abt how i can’t forget stuff like that and that it’ll end up killing somebody if i keep it up and i’m like fine whatever it’s just a setback i can still do this

so then i drive and go through the loop and shit but apparently sometimes i drive too close to the curb and so he’s like telling me i need to watch and drive near the center line and i’m like okay but like whenever he speaks he sounds exasperated like i should be able to get it already and like i corrected myself and we keep going for like two more loops but like it’s silent bc he only speaks up whenever i make a mistake and never when i do something right even though i know i’ve improved.

and there’s like this one tricky part of the curb where i have to like turn right and then immediately left and it’s kinda sharp and like when i was trying to turn left i didn’t turn enough so i stopped and was gonna like reverse and try again but he was like what are u doing and he like took the wheel and turned it more to the left and started talking about how u can still go and i told him that i didn’t know if i could’ve made it and he gives like this irritated sigh

so then i make the turn and we go about driving for some more loops and like somewhere i make another mistake and he tells me that i have to take it slow and it just irritated me so much bc like here he is acting like i should know all of this already and he’s telling me to take it slow? but it’s fine whatever i’ll push thru

and so like the rest of the time i’m thinking abt how him teaching me isn’t a good idea and being slightly irriated and i’m only half paying attention to driving which is bad so then when the sharp turn comes i like don’t press on the brake enough and i overshot it so i slam on my brakes and he says smth i forogt what but it was angry and then i make to reverse but hten this jeep comes into the loop right where i’m at (bc the entrance to the loop is right htere) and so my dad tells me to just stay wher ei am so it can maneuver around us and so i do and then i finally reverse and turn but i don’t make it again and i have to press down on my brakes again and now my dad’s like exasperated and saying like what are u doing and ur not concentrating and i was like it’s hard to concentrate when ur always yelling at me and he was like when have i yelled at u this entire time and i didn’t say anything but continued driving for a few feet slowly and we saw that the jeep parked on the other side of the loop and my dad started going on abt how he feels uneasy with that car there bc he doesn’t know if i can handle it and how i might kill the driver or run over his dog or whatever so i’m like fine do u wanna practice somehwere else and so we switch spots so he can drive to my high school parking lot but like as he’s driving im just like thinking to myself how angry i was and how that’s not the proper way to teach someone how to drive but also like how i’m just fucking weak for letting him get to me so easily and like my face starts scrunching up and i’m like hell no and then i start crying?? like silently of course but like how fucking pathetic and he doesn’t even notice until he’s about to turn onto the street and so i ask if we could go home bc i know i can’t properly drive now that i’m this upset abt it and he looks over and sees me and he’s like fine. if that’s what u want. fine. we can go home and so he drives us home and i’m like tyring to hold in the crying dn i just keep thinking abt how pathetic i am and how i wish it was my mom teaching me to drive bc she wouldn’t yell at me and how my dad probably thinks i’m childish and weak for how i reacted and like uggghgjhsdklfjk i’m just. upset. i’ll probs get over it in a few hours but like for now. i’m just gonna listen to sad music and feel sorry for myself

10 notes · View notes

misterbitches · 3 years

Text

@flootweed

ATOTS

That's super fucking romantic? Like tragic but in a nice way. i love that shit. i'm a monogamous slut for romance pghiosuag even tho we have to learn to live alone too but it's just like the NOTION is nice?!??! awwww i told my mom that SOPHIE's gf was like "she died taking a picture of the moon" and how it was like idk. the gf was just processing it and she thought it was romantic and my mom was like "wow.....depressing" bc think she thought it was stupid millenial shit i was like no mother doent u see she died in the BEAUTY LMAO but then i told her jessica walter's husband died the year before and then she died and she was like "aw...kind of romantic" LMAOOOO i guess two people have to die. why did i tell this story? i am so sorry. the show ended today right (ep 10?) i didn't realize it was that short. so i hope it was a happy ending? (tell me) i understand why you love the atmos! it's like, not really been done. there's this BL that i hear isn't too great but it does take place in a rural part of thailand and there's way less budget. a lot of ppl seem to like it. ep 6 LW / LW in gen gotta be honest, rushed through it. i knew spoilers from jump cause BL spoilers are just absolutely nothing and sometimes ur just like i need to know. i do not understand the ~silently lookin 4 u~ trope it always backfires and is also DUMB. so happy about tiffy. a girl who likes girls but ends up with a man bc of mommy and also the man is ok....it's me. she's gorgeous and actually [h*lf] gay so it's great. god ok i feel so old again. lmaooo but i was like obsessed with lady gaga for that reason (dont ask...also how i got kinda popular on tumblr way back in the day) and shes just absolutely fucking beautiful and bad ass. (which kind of doesnt helpcos they r all skinnty but that's FINEEEE) right? i mean like i guess cos we knew abt it? i can see why he was so pissed off, too? i mean i'm so fucking like...sensitive to being told what to do so i was angry for him from jump. i guess i was also looking at it different wholetime cos i knew the spoilers? i'm assuming u did too lmao. so we knew hed be pissed and leave. and frankly that's what sib gets. just for you my friend i will watch it and update. i think MANY times in shows in gen but it is something you notice a lot in BL bc they are just absolute novices most times. in this case, gene's actor mostly well (and i like him as a person just cos he was on that thai 3 girls in a car show and used to date on eof them lmao) can act so i will look over that scene to see how sib's actor plays off him. but the pausing in between sentences or for so long even decent actors or actors doing better. kao is not bad, not great so they will talk slowly because dramatic acting but the problem is most times it's too long. even if the person is an adept actor it won't always work and YES THEN THAT MEANS THE EDITOR COMES IN AND SNIP SNIP SNIP! it's too long. and sometimes it just does not work even if you can act. but it is GLARING when they cant or are average (someoe said this about tharntype and my god lmao tharn..is...so...slow...in...talking...the actor idk his name it's one of em, the other one with the nose (type) is....different not better but he certainly does not talk as slow. they arent bad but they are not good so.) also sometimes they are forgetting their lines. some ppl find this charming. clearly we do not lmao. what is their relation? what is going on there? i don't have a problem with stepbrothers as long as they didn't grow up with that sibling bond. many times blended families really have to watch out for that kind of fraternizing but it's always when theyre older and teenagers bc they didnt grow up w/ each other....i mean they have chemistry so i'm whatever. but. hennYYWAYYYS.actually it's bc im an idiot i didn't read it as Mhok (singular) and aey's father. Yes and his sister who i think i may hate? im like bitch okkkkkk but. his name is lhong. and he is a psycho. i mean so is type. so. oooh it could be that he stole! but also i'm pretty sure cos hes gay lol or did they

not make that explicit? the thing is i had to skip through most of that scene too because the drama was WAY too much for me. too much. lmao. the sister thing i got and it made sense and iliked that. oh yea he is gay and they know. that's a big one.

WBL

haven’t watched color rush! did you like it? i have seen wyel, parts of mr heart, and ofc to my star :)

ohhhhhh ok. i get you. yea he definitely wasn’t being ooc cos i think that....what u said. and also like....ugh i cant even think rn. i like sam lin a lot so i like gao shi de but i gotta say. lmao. hm. first of all. yes it is creepy what he did. it’s fucking weird. and sad that his whole life revolves around him. it’s not as fucking weird as LW but still like when he did the door thing. i was like UMMMMMMMMM cos i really didnt want it to be constructed. and when it was i was like imma suspend my disbelief. but if anyone dared...

and so what he did in s2 i think he just couldnt realize that he was loved back which is why it’s good he WAS ALONE for 5 yrs imo. but he gave shu yi 0 choice and for that i am pretty sure i would be even angrier. i do think though that the father’s role is pretty important but i can see how the show is like....letting that go? bc as fucking weird as GSD is, he was still like...20? i guess and shu yi’s dad is like. crazy? i am also like he really had to fucking start a company to get noticed like are u joking? is it also that easy? and also why? lmao i just. ugh. i think that probs bothered me the most...priorities.

i like the show! well idk if i love it but sure. i think it’s decent lmao. i understand what you’re saying. for here it bothers me less but i certainly don’t think it was OOC. immature and stupid but like...that’s.....what they are. i also don’t have a problm with the timing from a technical point.

however, when i started the show? i had NO clue what concept of time it was. and that was very annoying. tehy redeemed it bc of the comedy aspects (the first time shu yi sees shi de is so fucking good, i really loved the shot and editing; it’s hilarious and silly) and i started to go with the flow of the show through that. but the fucking concept of time in the show in general esp with repetitive outfits (i understand that they are more likely to wear multiple outfits as well, it’s just that you have to split it up or it i sconfusing visually and looks like the same scene twice or just a full day of shooting which it could be but then something should change in the clothes. this is just an ex~~*~*) and partof that is they have this already controlled narrative i guess.

i have to admit as well...i skipped episode 1. and most of 2. i was like i rly dont want to see someone slap a pereson even if they were like. not together. it’s just not cute also not in front of ppl. and then when they were yelling and bla bla i was like listen ladies lets calm down. too much angst in a boring way. what they have now is good. also they should probably like estrange the father but i doubt they will.

i cannot make up my mind totally now bc i see what ur saying i guess i just don’t feel that way as much but i guess i have to think about it more, too. i do think he was contorlling in getting him or like when he didnt want shu yi to find out whwatshisface liked him. i guess for me it would be if he is still that way in the rship. but even tho he’s at fault for what happened, i’m also like but his dad? but also like...did he try? why did he just stop contacting? but then i guess he emailed everyday? DO U C MY QUANDARY.

alsoi have to say i do not care abt their backdoor being opened lmao like wow business? no thanks

LMAO. did they cry a lot in UWMA? i only know the teamwin parts. which one is fluke the really pale one who died? idk what it is about that kid but i just cant watch him. it’s not his fault it’s mine.

DUDE i still dont understand the husband and wife thing and ive looked into it multiple times. ive kinda just classified it as one of those things that make me uncomfortable but arent problematic lol. it you have any insight about it id love to hear it tho !!

it’s stupid. that’s what it is (husband and wife.) it’s just something they say like many gay couples may use pejoratives in conjunction with them, the f word etc. or even imply something about being a top and a bottom. whatever. but these arent gay spaces or gay storylines. sure gay men may direct them but since BL operates and relies on patriarchy without a doubt and also stereotypes poorly kathoeys or won’t cast trans women in anything substantial and use them as jokes (and see this is one of those things where it’s like...ud never see this in the US tho like our concept of third gender or kathoeys but life stillBOOOOO.) so it’s just useless when they put it into the scripts because it’s for people to consume and lots of girls are. obviously. so the idea that if you are being penetrated and u r the wife and this is used like literally anywhere but not from gay or whatever men is gross. are cis women’s vaginas sieves to them? are trans women not women? do we have to categorize people by PHALLIC OBJECTS IN OUR BODIES SPECIFICALLY A WOMAN? it dont make no sense. plus really most ppl just experiment, there’s more ways than one to have sex, we have lives so most times it’s not just full penetration for hours anyway. it’s just so gross. like oh that’s really funny lol ur the wife cos his dick goes in ur butt XD i get it, same. i say “i’m wife’ whenever there’s a penis in me. fucking kill me. it’s not a big deal but it’s just dumb and gross. if they use it they could try and subvert it too like i like how my engineer has a whole absurdly stupid episode about it. but in TT the dad says “if ur the wife i wont accept it” and i was like u know what gals? im good. goodbye.

pgojaihousgajigko THAT’S SOOOOOOO OOWIEOFUGHOIJ WEIRD. FANDOM IS REALLY WEIRD. i have read rpf and written it once upon a time but dont do it anymore uch. i mean it’s weird. no doubt about that. invasive, weird, strange. but very unreal anyway. it is. plus i dont like celebs or fame and think of it as a gross capitalist scheme so i had to stop (also so weird?) but i know very many people like lean in. lean in. LEAN IN. this youtuber i watch did a video on like insanely popular ships (like that 1d one) and their insane fandoms and i just couldnt. it’s so embarrassing? and then they’re so bold????? about it?

yea it would be cool (more queer men or visibly we should say or like out whatever.) but it doesnt necessarily mean that will be good or beneficial i guess? i mean like. i dont know. so much about the genre is about wish fulfilment for young girls. its literally selling some fantasies because the other thing is for BL (i read a paper on this...) esp for girls in more conservative societies they cna maybe replace themselves in the character? but they may not feel a threat as a woman or like their life will fall apart if they engage in sexual things with anyone really. and that’s where i’m like....for a lot of these are they just writing a story and just replacing two men? bc they also seem to think it owrks like that. and in a way that’s what it is bc of the writing and how they use certain terms. you can tell the piece is about pushing a product and less about the real affects of a story. i think ITSAY is a great example of a really intelligent great piece of work that contains multitudes. and the girl was amazing. it just depends on the goal. and for most of the ppl the goal isnt...to do anything. so i dont know. idk how to talk abt representation anymore. it both is and isnt.

i really liked tingting from my engineer a lot (idk if u have seen) she’s so fun and unapologetic. i love how much she drinks and if someone tells her to be ladylike she says no. and i appreciate that in the show when girls were rude to her she said nothing about the girls but said “NO IM NOT LUCKY TO HAVE ALL MALE FRIENDS?” i really want to see her more in the next season. obviously tiffy is goat. super excited to see how their rship develops.

#we best love #lovely writer #we best love fighting mr 2nd

0 notes

lusilly · 7 years

Text

i wrote 6k of this and i’m so exhausted i don’t want to finish and also it somehow doesn’t read well anymore so here have a Hands incident with damian cuz i’ve been thinking abt it so much with the rp buddies

Bruce was lunching with Lucius Fox when his phone rang. He apologized, saw that it was Alfred calling on the non-emergency line, and then silenced the phone and put it away; Alfred would’ve scolded him for picking up during lunch with a friend and business partner in any case.

Once Bruce bid Lucius farewell, fielding the not-so-subtle concerns about a certain Jason Todd’s involvement with Lucius’s daughter Tam as graciously as he could, Bruce opened his phone and saw a voicemail notification waiting for him. On his way back to his office, he listened to Alfred explain quite calmly that neither he nor Damian would be home for another hour or so, and so, assuming Bruce went home after lunch, if he could please keep himself from panicking because everything is perfectly under control, that would be best.

Halfway up the elevator Bruce swiped his keycard to reroute it to the garage beneath the building, dialing Alfred back as he did so.

“Master Bruce,” said Alfred, in lieu of a greeting. “I take it you received my message.”

“Where are you and Damian?”

“Oh, somewhere or other. A walk at the park, perhaps, or volunteering at the local community shelter.”

“You wouldn’t have called to let me know if that hadn’t been the case.

Damian’s voice as he addressed Alfred came through the receiver clearly. “Tell him I’m fine!” he called, sounding annoyed.

This, naturally, tipped Alfred’s hand and told Bruce that Damian was or had been in some sort of danger. “What’s going on?” asked Bruce as he got into a sleek black car. His voice was hard.

Alfred sighed. “I only called,” he began, “because I suspected you would notice the absence of some medical supplies at home, and I wanted to assure you that it was nothing to worry about.”

“Medical supplies?” asked Bruce, his tone urgent. He exited the parking garage, waving to the attendant on his way out. “What happened?”

“A mere accident, nothing to worry about. Remember that day when you were fourteen and you almost sliced your thumb off trying to chop onions?”

This had indeed happened, but a fourteen-year-old Bruce had not had the precision and control in which a sixteen-year-old Damian had been trained since birth. Besides, Damian was more gifted in the kitchen than Bruce, routinely preparing meals with the vegetables he grew in his garden. Dubiously, Bruce asked: “He was cooking?”

“Well – yes, thank you, Doctor – one moment, Bruce.” It sounded like Alfred took the phone from his ear and pressed it against his shoulder, but Bruce still could make out his muffled voice as he admonished Damian. “Would you be a little less stoic when the doctor comes in again? Any other boy your age would be in whining in pain right now, your own pride be damned.”

As Alfred lifted the phone back to his ear, Bruce heard Damian protest, “It doesn’t hurt,” but Alfred seemed to ignore him.

Before Alfred could speak, Bruce asked, “Are you at a hospital?”

“Oh,” sighed Alfred. “Well, I suppose we are. I would’ve taken care of it at home, but I thought it would be useful for a specialist to take a look at it.”

“A look at what?”

“A teensy laceration across the palm of his right hand.”

“And yet you thought a specialist was necessary.”

“If there had been any nerve damage, I certainly didn’t want to make it worse. I am not a trained doctor, Master Bruce.”

“More or less.”

“While undoubtedly flattering,” Alfred replied, “that is untrue. I can’t solve every problem in this house, you know.”

It seemed to Bruce that Alfred meant more than just tending to injuries, but he didn’t press it. Knowing that Damian was there listening to whatever Alfred said on the phone certainly explained some of the butler's cryptic words to Bruce, who took this as an invitation to come act the part of father with his son, without letting Damian in on such an intent. “Which hospital? Gotham Mercy?”

“The good doctor has tended to Damian’s injuries, and we should be home within the hour. There is no need to meet us here.”

“Brentwood General, then.”

“Master Bruce-”

“Spare me, Alfred. I’ll be there shortly.”

It took him another twenty minutes, fighting traffic across Kane Bridge, and then another ten to park and talk to the kindly older woman at the front desk who recovered immediately and professionally from the look of shock on her face when he gave her his name. Damian was in room 219, which incidentally corresponded to Bruce’s date of birth. Though Bruce did not believe in signs or fate or the vague will of the universe, he found himself somehow mysteriously a little bit reassured by this.

There was a long rectangular window in the door to room 219, though a curtain had been pulled across the bed for some privacy. This was standard practice for Bruce’s sons, to hide their presence lest they attract attention. In the moment, though, it annoyed him: he wanted to see his boy as soon as possible.

When he entered the unlocked room, Alfred peeked around the curtain. The expression melted off his face when he saw Bruce, a firm blankness rising in its stead. “Ah, Master Bruce,” he said, a moment before Bruce joined passed around the curtain – it was a transparent means of warning Damian a split second ahead of time. Damian sat on the very edge of a hospital bed, holding his obviously bandaged right hand protectively in his left. As Bruce stepped beyond the curtain, Damian glared up at him defiantly, as if daring him to show concern.

Bruce stooped to his son’s level. He moved forward, reached out to take the injured hand. “How is it?”

“Fine,” said Damian stubbornly. But since the bandage covered the wound itself, he allowed his father this small touch.

“Superficial damage the recurrent branch of the median nerve,” Alfred announced, stepping in for Damian to answer Bruce’s question. “This is good fortune, really. Some simple physiotherapy exercises and we shall be all healed up in a few weeks. He sees far worse on a usual night out on the job.”

With his thumb, Bruce traced across Damian’s bandaged palm. Underneath his touch, he imagined he could feel the damaged nerve tensing, flinching away from his tenderness. His gaze flicked up to his son, who stubbornly refused to make eye contact. “But you weren’t on the job, were you?”

“No,” replied Damian. He sounded angry, and since Bruce could not immediately tell why he just assumed it was because Damian hated being treated with care, like the child he was. “It was an accident. That’s all.”

“Accident how?”

“Just an accident, why do you care about the details?”

“Damian, please. Of course I care.”

The door opened once more and they all fell silent; Bruce let go of Damian’s hand. “Alright,” came a voice Bruce didn’t recognize, and then a doctor wearing thick glasses appeared beyond the curtains, smiling pleasantly at Damian. Her eyebrows raised when she saw Bruce, a flash of coming face-to-face with celebrity in her eyes; then, professionally, she tamped that down. Addressing Damian, she gestured towards Bruce and said, “Oh, is this your father?” Sourly, Damian nodded, but she had already offered her hand to Bruce. “Nice to meet you, Mister Wayne,” she said.

“You as well, Doctor,” he read the name on her coat, “Ghorbani.”

The name sounded familiar, but Bruce couldn’t recall from where exactly, and he was certain he did not recognize the doctor. Once she had shaken Bruce’s hand, she went to Damian’s side and held out a hand grip, the kind used in physical therapy. “Okie-doke,” she said, “I want you to spend ten minutes on this every day until the stitches dissolve, then twenty minutes every day after that until you come in for another check-up.” She squeezed the thing, demonstrating how to use it. “Think you can do that?”

“Yes,” answered Damian glumly, taking the thing when she offered it to him.

Dr. Ghorbani took his hand and gestured towards his grip. “Just remember not to put too much pressure right here on the center of your palm. You might have to use it at a weird angle to avoid that, but it’ll be good for you. Leave your grip good as new. Sound good?”

“Yes,” said Damian again. “Do I need to rest it, or can I continue with my regular activities?”

“Be a little gentle with it,” said Dr. Ghorbani. “Are you right-handed?”

“Left-handed.” Damian was perfectly ambidextrous, but it was easier to lie.

“Perfect. Then it shouldn’t be a problem. Just be careful, OK?”

“Done. Thank you.”

“No problem. See you in a couple weeks, OK Damian?”

“Yes.”

She turned around and smiled at Alfred and Bruce. “Ibuprofen for the pain, but he was a trooper today so I think he’ll be alright. Mister Pennyworth,” she said, shaking Alfred’s hand, then taking Bruce’s once more. “Mister Wayne.”

Then she swept away, on to another patient. Damian slipped off of the bed, heading towards the door. “Alfred,” said Bruce, as they followed Damian out. “Have we used that doctor before?”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Hn. She seemed familiar.”

Damian piped up from before them as they traversed the hospital halls. “I know her sister,” he threw over his shoulder. “Niloufar. She goes to Colin’s school.”

That was probably it. Bruce had thoroughly vetted all of Damian’s friends.

Once they exited the hospital, Bruce moved forward slightly, from Alfred’s side to beside his son. He placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “You’ll come with me.”

Damian tore his shoulder out of his father’s grip. “I’ll come where I damn well want.”

There in the parking lot, Bruce and Damian both stopped, both a little bit shocked Damian had actually said that aloud. Quickly Alfred moved forward, seeking to soothe the situation before it got worse. “A good idea, I think,” he said reassuringly. “Damian, I do so hate your preferred radio station. Surely your father, a younger man than I, could tolerate it with more ease.”

It was not real, a stupid fake reason for Damian to ride in the car with Bruce rather than Alfred. But Damian glanced in between his father and Alfred, sizing up a potential fight, then shrugged. “Can I drive?”

“Do you have your permit?”

“Father, I don’t need a permit-”

“It’s a company car, Damian. The answer is no.”

Damian grumbled, “You own the company,” but didn’t argue. Bruce told Alfred they would see him at home, and then he led Damian to the sleek black Bentley which he’d taken from the garage at the Tower. They both got into the car without saying a word. Bruce drove out of the parking lot in silence, and then Damian reached out to fiddle with the radio, landing on a station currently playing Kanye. Bruce surprised himself by being able to recognize the song: it was on one of Damian’s playlists, which he often blasted while he worked out. From his spot before the computer, Bruce could usually hear his son’s music from the distant bowels of the Cave.

“What happened?” asked Bruce, slowing down to a few miles below the speed limit on the mostly empty road leading through the luxurious upper-class Brentwood neighborhood.

“Nothing,” answered Damian shortly.

Bruce took that, and thought it over for a minute. “Obviously something happened,” he continued, gesturing towards Damian’s injured hand. “I promise I won’t be angry.”

As if offended, Damian shot back, “I didn’t think you’d be angry.”

“Then why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because it’s not your business.”

“You’re my son. Your wellbeing is absolutely my business.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m fine. My hand will be back to normal in a matter of weeks.”

This was frustrating, but serious conversations with Damian were wont to be so. Bruce tried another route: distraction. “You’re welcome to whatever you need for scar treatment. I know you don’t like injured hands.”

Bruce could practically feel his son tense up in the passenger’s seat beside him. He looked out the window. Spring had come early this year, and it was beautiful outside. “It’s fine,” he murmured, evidence that Damian knew what Bruce was really talking about.

The last time Damian seriously damaged his hands had been before his official diagnosis of obsessive-compulsive disorder: while it was not uncommon for Bruce or the other boys to come home with bruises along their knuckles after the night’s work, it had somehow started to get to Damian on a level he had not been able to articulate. He had scratched through the skin up two fingers on his left hand, smearing blood across his face when he rubbed at his eye – both telltale signs of an episode about to hit Damian in full force. It had been a year since then and Damian had not had an incident in some time. But Bruce didn’t think it was entirely illogical to fear that damaged hands of this variety might trigger something in Damian’s brain, something that he could not control.

“I worry,” said Bruce.

“You shouldn’t,” said Damian. “It’s fine.”

“Consider staying in tonight? I understand you have a microbiology project to finish for Alfred.”

“Tt.” Damian was silent for a minute or two. “I’ll think about it.”

In the end, Damian did not stay in. He left the Cave on his motorcycle minutes after Bruce did, though his status report delivered before he fell into bed just before the early gray light of dawn began to hit seemed to suggest that he had taken it slow.

On the second night he busted the stitches in his hand. Bruce came back to the Cave early to find Damian without his cape, mask, boots, or gloves, sitting on the examination table trying not to curse as Alfred carefully restitched the wound. “That should teach you a lesson,” said Alfred wisely, his bespectacled eyes focused on the task at hand. “Be kind to your healing body, or else it will not be kind to you. It’ll scar now, you know.”

Scathingly, Damian told him, “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You know,” said Alfred, glancing up to meet the boy’s eye, “sometimes I question that, Damian.”

As soon as the stitches were complete, Damian tugged his hand away and headed upstairs, scowling. Bruce was left alone with Alfred. He removed the cowl and the cape, setting them aside, then hovered anxiously for a moment. Patiently, Alfred waited for whatever question it was that Bruce was trying to ask.

His voice slightly hushed, Bruce asked, “You think he’s alright?”

“I do,” answered Alfred without hesitation. “He’s resentful, that’s all. Otherwise I do believe he’s managing quite well.”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

“No,” said Alfred, cleaning up the medical station. “He has asked me, quite civilly, to respect his privacy. I shall do so.”

“He’s injured, I’m his father. I deserve to know.”

With a shrug, Alfred replied, “Children injure themselves and keep it from their parents with wild and reckless abandon, Bruce. You of all people should know this.”

It was a jab at Bruce’s own tendency, especially as a sulky teenager and younger man, to keep his own wounds secret from Alfred. Still, it had been a long time since then, and in the meantime Bruce had come to understand that all would have been much simpler had he just gone to Alfred in the first place.

“Besides,” added Alfred, disinfecting the equipment and washing his hands, “you’re doing it again.”

Distracted, Bruce looked up at Alfred. “Doing what?”

Meeting Bruce’s eye with an expression that said quite clearly, You know what, Alfred answered. “Leveraging paternal concern as if it amounts to the same thing as orders on the field. Conflating Father and Batman. And know, Master Bruce, that if I have noticed, then he most certainly has.”

This was a particular anxiety which Bruce had shared with Alfred after the emotionally exhausting three-day trip to a deserted island with Damian, wherein Damian had patently refused to give Bruce any meaningful insight to his relationship with the Titans (with, particularly, a certain Iris West), and also they’d come across a young assassin with whom Damian had naturally identified. Though Damian had not shared anything of this nature with Alfred, Bruce’s blind spot had always been found in the intersection of his own personal identity and that of the Batman, so he had asked Alfred to keep him in check, let him know when he went too far.

Still. Knowing did not mean he could easily change it.

Lowly – almost weakly – Bruce said, “It’s the only way I know how to be.”

“Then you and Damian must learn another way together,” Alfred said simply, drying his hands. “Or else we will be stuck in this impasse of noncommunication forever.”

“Don’t you think he should-”

“No, no, Bruce,” said Alfred, shaking his head. “I do not enable. Speak to him, not about him.”’

“I’ve been trying.”

“Then try differently,” Alfred told him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am an old man and I need my rest. I suggest you sleep as well. If you require food, there are sandwiches in the kitchen.” He headed towards the elevator, as the many stairs up to the Manor were hard on his arthritic knees.

Given that they’d ended the night early, Bruce awoke before noon the next day. Damian still slept, and when Bruce went to check on him he was indeed fast asleep, earbuds neatly tucked into his ears. This gave Bruce some relief. There had been a month or so when Damian first started his medication when he had been too wired to sleep at all, which had resulted in another total meltdown. Rest meant healing. Bruce was grateful.

Dick called, and Bruce talked to him for a while. He wanted to ask Dick to ask Damian what happened to his hand, but he also thought telling him about it might be a violation of Damian’s trust, so he refrained. He ended the call a few minutes before Damian entered the kitchen, barefoot, in his pajamas.

He too had a phone at his ear. “You didn’t have to call me,” he was telling whomever it was that was on the other line. “I told you I can’t be there every weekend.” Without acknowledging his father’s presence, Damian took a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with water from the fridge. “Yes,” he said, into the phone. “No, Lian is. Well, if she’s not there, then Milagro. Just ask her. It would be a good leadership experience for you Chris, you should do it.” He paused, then said, “No, don’t put her on the phone. It’s fine. You’ll be good at it.” He took a sip of water, still standing at the counter by the fridge. “Can’t you ask your father for this? He leads the entire Justice League, I only co-lead the eight of us every other weekend or – no, no, go ahead. You just have to do it, Chris, no time for hesitance. Confidence is key. Good luck.”

He took his phone away from his ear and took out two slices of bread, sticking them in the toaster.

“You should have some eggs,” said Bruce, from his spot at the kitchen table. “Protein.”

Damian flashed a container of homemade baked beans at his father, which were in fact more protein-dense than eggs. “What happened to the gluten-free bread?” he asked, fiddling with the stud earring in his left ear: he had recently pierced his ear while away one weekend with the Titans, intending to thread a wire through the hole to anchor his communicator, keep it from falling off. Quickly he had realized this design wouldn’t work, but instead of taking the earring out and allowing the hole to heal and close on its own, he had kept it in as an aesthetic decoration.

“Alfred froze it,” Bruce replied. “It goes bad quickly. You can thaw it as long as you make sure to eat it all within the week.”

“It’s fine,” said Damian, turning back to the toaster. “I don’t like the taste anyway.”

Damian had been the one to ask Alfred to buy gluten-free bread in the first place, but Bruce didn’t point this out. “Was that Christopher?”

“They have a mission,” answered Damian, because it clearly had been, “and neither Lian nor I are there to lead, so they’re making do on their own.”

“He’d be a good leader.”

“No,” said Damian, as his toast popped up. “He can be slow to prioritize the right threats sometimes. I suspect it has to do with his autism mostly, but he lacks confidence in his abilities, which makes it worse.”

Bruce’s eyebrows almost went up at how glibly Damian referred to his friend’s condition, but he hid his surprise immediately. Clark had mentioned it once or twice to Bruce, but always in the context that he suspected it had something to do with Chris’s alien nature, or the rapid ageing, or the effects of the Phantom Zone. It was a sore spot, a little bit; Bruce knew that when he was child some of the various doctors Alfred had made him go see had discussed the possibility that Bruce too had been somewhere along the spectrum, but it had never progressed past a childhood almost-diagnosis. He didn’t know why Clark or Damian speaking about it so easily made him feel the slightest bit self-conscious, but it did.

Though Bruce had certainly listened to Clark when he spoke about his son’s condition, Bruce had rarely reciprocated with talk about Damian. He had mentioned it, particularly when explaining his resignation from the League, but if he talked about Damian to any of his colleagues, it was mostly Diana. There had always been something about her which made it very hard to lie to her, and which compelled Bruce often to say more than he should.

“He’s welcome to visit Themyscira,” she had told Bruce once, “should he ever need a break from the pressure of the man’s world.”

Slightly troubled by this wording, Bruce wondered if he had implied to her more than he’d meant to.

“They need to learn to function independently, anyway,” Bruce finally replied to his son. “Though what stopped you from joining them this weekend?”

Without turning around from fixing his breakfast, Damian held up his bandaged hand. “Wouldn’t be performing at my best, and I can’t expect them to pick up my slack.”

Bruce wanted to point out that his absence meant they would be picking up even more slack than if he had shown up and merely been injured, but, not wanting to upset his son, he said nothing. Damian brought his plate, on which two toasted slices of bread were heaped with baked beans, to the kitchen table to down across from Bruce, opening something on his phone to read.

“Where’s Alfred?” he asked.

“Resting. I think he’s reading that book you recommended.”

Damian made a face. “I didn’t recommend it, I only said I liked it. He’ll think it’s crass.”

Bruce didn’t answer this. “Dick called. He’s well. He said you should come visit him in Chicago sometime.”

Damian glanced up at his father, his mouth twisted into a reluctant grimace. “You didn’t tell him about my hand, did you?”

“No,” answered Bruce. “I did not.”

There was a long silence. Damian went back to his phone.

“Damian,” said Bruce. “Can we talk about this?”

Looking up from his phone, Damian watched his father warily. “What is there left to say?”

With a nod towards Damian’s hand, Bruce asked, “How did you hurt yourself?”

There was no hesitation in Damian’s voice. “It’s not your business.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you aren’t the one whose hand was gashed open.”

“You don’t think it’s my business to know what has caused injury to my son.”

“I think you should quit interrogating me about it.”

Bruce was silent for a moment, watching his son. Damian went back to his phone.

“Did you do it to yourself?” Bruce asked.

“No,” answered Damian, with a disdainful look at his father. “I told you, it was an accident.”

“Why were you handling dangerous tools out of uniform?”

“It’s not as if I was juggling my steel, Father. It was a normal civilian accident.”

“How?”

Damian let out a frustrated sigh and got to his feet, taking his plate with him. “I’m going to the dining room,” he said curtly, “so that I may eat my breakfast in peace.”

“You can’t keep these things from me,” Bruce said, raising his voice as Damian began to head out of the kitchen. “If your performance is going to be affected in the field-”

“It won’t,” Damian called, without turning around.

“You said only a moment ago that you aren’t with the Titans because-”

At this, Damian turned around, still holding his plate in his hands. With intent to injure, he said, “You took Dick on as Robin when he was a harmless twelve-year-old. You, unlike my team of untrained teenagers, won’t have any trouble picking up my slack.”

Bruce began, “If you were injured on patrol-”

“But it wasn’t on patrol.”

“This only works,” Bruce said, gesturing between the two of them, “because of constant communication.”

Damian let out a bark of laughter. “Now you’re just making fun.”

“Damian, please,” said Bruce, without getting up. “I have to know what’s going on or else I’m not comfortable with you out on patrol with me.”

“It’s a good thing I have my own route, then, so I won’t be there to trouble you.”

“Just tell me,” said Bruce, his voice hard.

“No,” snapped Damian. “I have a right to privacy.”

“This is not privacy. This is secrecy.”

Derisively, Damian retorted, “Because you’ve never kept any secrets from me.”

“What I do,” Bruce told his son, slowly, clearly, “I do for your sake. And if you cannot trust me, then I cannot trust you.”

In the silence that ensued, Damian just shrugged. “Fine,” he said.

“Fine,” echoed Bruce. “Then you’ll stay in tonight.”

Damian’s expression did not soften. “If I take an entire week off, will that be satisfactory punishment?”

Bruce didn’t say anything, though he wanted to. When he finally managed to collect his thoughts, Damian had already let out a contemptuous, “Tt,” and left through the kitchen door, disappearing into the dining room.

Later that day, at Alfred’s insistence, Bruce met Damian out back where he worked in the vegetable garden and ruefully told him Bruce would not prevent him from going on patrol that night. Damian refused to hear it, shrugging his father off and insisting he might as well stay in the Cave anyway and direct operations. He lacked experience out of the field, anyway.

To Bruce’s surprise and a little bit of consternation, Damian performed excellently handling operations from the Cave. Barbara even agreed to allow him to take over some of Oracle’s duties, and the next morning she sent Bruce an evaluation report in which she spoke very highly of Damian’s abilities, noting in particular that his attitude had improved significantly in the past few years. When Bruce called her to get her personal thoughts – Bruce had become accustomed to hearing her voice, and in the absence of the rest of the family she had become a great friend to him – she said, “You should be proud, Bruce.”

He was. He tried to let the hand thing go, to stop thinking about it, but he had difficulty doing so. Damian remained in the Cave at night for a week, and continued to perform well. When Alfred took his stitches out he resumed he regular duties, and was gone the next weekend with the Titans. At meals Bruce caught Damian tracing the scar tissue on his hand repeatedly but almost unconsciously, and every night before he put on his gloves he rubbed scar treatment cream on his palm while Bruce gave him a summary of directives and the status of active missions. It bothered Bruce, though he tried to ignore it.

Nearly a month gone from Damian’s accident and his hand was back to normal apart from the fading scar. Still, it troubled Bruce, stuck like a burr in the back of his mind the same way, Bruce imagined, that it did for Damian.

His college acceptances arrived by mail. Princeton, Yale, Columbia, Brown, Stanford. UCLA, too, which surprised Bruce: he hadn’t even known Damian applied to UCLA. Damian accepted Princeton’s offer, planning to enter university in the fall as a finance major. “Maybe I’ll pick up a visual arts minor or something,” he said, on the phone with Dick while leafing through the admissions materials. “Yeah.” Dick said something, and Damian gave a little laugh. “Maybe.”

That night, Alfred and Damian made stuffed Portobello mushrooms for dinner with some of the fresh vegetables from Damian’s garden. “We need to stop by the food kitchen soon,” said Damian, eating his meal with gusto at the dinner table. “I’m harvesting the kale and the beetroot and the cucumbers this week and there’s far too much of it.”

“We shall go tomorrow,” promised Alfred. “Damian, these mushrooms are exquisite.”

“They didn’t even take the first time,” Damian said, nodding down at his food, inspecting the texture of the mushroom. “It’s too cold outside at nighttime, had to move them indoors.”

Bruce glanced up. “Indoors where?”

“The studio.”

“In the greenhouse?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause.

Then Damian continued, “Next time I’ll let them grow a little more before I harvest. They could’ve been a bit bigger, don’t you think?”

“I think they are wonderful,” answered Alfred happily. “And delicious.”

They ate in semi-silence.

“How is your hand?” asked Bruce.

“Fine,” answered Damian, though there was very little fight in his tone. He set down his fork and held his palm out, showing Bruce. “Scar’s fading.”

“That’s good.”

Damian pushed his hair out of his face and went back to his phone. In the past few months he had let his hair grow out ever so slightly, just slightly longer than it had ever been in the past. When it reached a certain length it began to curl, which had the general effect of making Damian look younger, more like the kid he was. After dinner Alfred began to take the dishes into the kitchen, but Bruce and Damian managed to convinced him to sit back down, and instead insisted on cleaning up while Alfred relaxed.

Bruce washed the dishes and Damian dried them and put them away, mostly in silence. Bruce was rinsing a pan when Damian said, “Father.”

He looked around. Damian was standing at the counter, his thumb slipping across a fork embossed with the Wayne family crest. Lowering it, he looked up at his father with a look which was partly resignation, but which didn’t appear entirely unhappy.

“You’re really still thinking about my hand?” he asked.

Bruce set down the pan. “Of course I am.”

Damian watched his father dispassionately. “Why?”

“Because I’m your father, Damian. What happens to you matters to me.”

Damian looked at Bruce for a moment, cocked his head as if he didn’t fully understand. With a jolt, it occurred to Bruce that perhaps he didn’t: injuries in the field were evidence of a failure, a consequence of one’s own carelessness and an inaccurate threat assessment. Any wounds Damian had suffered as a younger child were at the mercy of his teachers, and Bruce suspected – through Damian did not speak of his time with his mother – that Talia had used injury always to teach her son, to show him that pain and hurt has value and use. Bruce was not entirely certain that either of Damian’s parents had ever really shown to him that they cared merely for the sake of caring.

Once more Damian brushed a curl back, off of his forehead. “I’ll show you,” he said, “if you still want to know.”

Bruce leaned against the sink. “I do.”

“OK.” He nodded towards the French doors leading out to the back garden, and Bruce followed him out. It was dark outside already, just past dusk: fireflies crisscrossed lazily through the air, but Damian ignored them.

They ostensibly were heading for Damian’s vegetable patch. “Were you gardening?” he asked.

“No.” Damian crossed the lawn, towards the greenhouse with its glass black like oceanwater in the darkness. “I sculpt.”

Bruce raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you cut your hand on a pottery wheel.”

“Father, please, that’s ceramics. I said I sculpt.”

Holding his tongue, doing his best to make sure Damian felt safe and unjudged, Bruce said, “Alright. What do you sculpt?”

Damian opened the door to the dark greenhouse, then flicked a switch. Light flooded the place, reflecting white against the glass.

“Marble,” he said.

Bruce stood in the entrance to the ancient old greenhouse, a broken down, useless structure which Alfred and Damian had converted last summer into a studio. Naturally Bruce had always known his youngest son had artistic inclinations – he had seen his sketchbooks, and there’d been the watercolors a while ago – but sculpting marble was somehow not something Bruce had been remotely prepared for.

A half dozen roughly-hewn figures stood frozen in the shadows, while another, half-formed into a bust, was positioned centrally. Piles of sandpaper, dust, and marble chips covered the floor. In the far corner, a tray of mushrooms grew.

Beside Bruce, Damian brushed back his hair again. “I’ve been a little manic about it,” Damian admitted. “I only slipped and hurt my hand because I hadn’t been sleeping enough.”

It was an admission of vulnerability, and it took Bruce slightly aback. “Ah,” he said. “Well.” He moved forward, slowly circling the rough bust. “These are very impressive, Damian.”

“They’re just practice,” Damian said.

“They’re very good.”

Damian hesitated, hovering by the door. “Thanks,” he said.

“Did Alfred buy you these supplies?”

“Technically you did,” Damian replied, but he didn’t sound in the least bit ashamed. “I only forged your signature on the checks.”

Though rationally Bruce knew he was supposed to be upset with his son for that, he couldn’t bring himself out of the strange sense of awe he felt, being in this room. There was a short silence as Bruce moved between the chunks of marble, inspecting them from all sides. He glanced back at Damian and asked, “Have you ever thought about a show?”

“Show?” Damian echoed his father as if he did not understand, certain he had misheard. “Not…particularly.” He paused, then added, “They’re not very good,” legitimately, as if to inform his poor uncultured father on the simple fact of the matter.

But Bruce had made up his mind. “They’re exquisite,” he said with certainty. “All your artwork has been collecting dust, Damian. Even if you choose not to display these,” he gestured at the statues, “you should have a showing of some sort. Frankly I’m disappointed I never thought of it earlier.”

For a long moment, Damian didn’t say anything. Then Bruce peeked out from behind a statue to see his son standing still at the threshold, watching Bruce with a kind of deeply touched disbelief.

He recovered quickly. “That’s idiotic,” he said, his expression snapping back to normal. “A private gallery showing is absurd. I’ve never even displayed any of my pieces before.”

Bruce never said private gallery, but he wasn’t about to correct his son. “That’s not true,” he pointed out. “You did that art class at the Neon Knights Center a few months ago, and they displayed your work there once it was over.”

“That was for charity,” Damian pointed out. “Tim’s PR team requested that I do it.”

“This can be for charity too,” Bruce insists, crossing the studio back to his son. “We can offer to sell the pieces you wouldn’t mind parting with, then donate the proceeds to charity.”

Shaking his head, Damian leaned against the doorframe. “No one will buy anything.”

“Then we make the donation ourselves.”

“That’s not-”

Bruce interrupts. “Damian,” he said, earnestly. “Please.”

After an extended pause, wherein Damian watched his father suspiciously, as if waiting for the punchline – finally, Damian gave a long theatrical sigh, and shrugged. “Fine,” he said, and Bruce got the impression he was very pleased to be convinced. “But I’ll have to take another look at my work. Hardly anything is worth showing, in any case.”

He turned and headed back into the house. Behind him, Bruce followed, making his way through the grass and the flowers back into the Manor, a small smile on his face.

The next day – Damian was technically on summer vacation, which usually made no impact on his studies, but as the days led up to his start at Princeton, Alfred had decided it prudent to give him a break – was spent mostly in the big living room with the French doors swung wide open. By the time Bruce awoke and made it down to slurp down coffee and his usual breakfast, Damian had already stuffed the room with almost every completed artwork of his he could scrounge up. It was staggering, really, the breadth of art that Damian had dabbled in; Bruce and Alfred sat dutifully on the sofa as Damian presented piece after piece, charcoal, watercolors, oil paintings, inked figure studies – a fully-inked short story comic, which Damian clarified he would not sell, until Alfred suggested they have it printed so that they may sell copies, to which Damian agreed with poorly disguised glee, delighted at the idea.

Often Damian stopped, describing and observing a certain piece with a critical look in his eye. When he began to express his doubts about whether or not it deserved a place in the gallery showing, Bruce or Alfred would shake their head and one of them would say, “No, no, it’s too good; you have to include it.”

Once the comic was printed, the gallery was booked, the catering ordered, and the event publicized, it came too quickly. Damian wore a nice suit, black, to contrast against his father’s pinstripe gray. He dragged his feet in those last few minutes, reluctantly getting into the car, then staying silent for the ride into the city. As they approached, he said snappily, “You know, this art space could’ve just as easily been used to showcase some of the more under-recognized art of real Gothamites, that is, you know, people who don’t have rich white old fathers to bankroll their own personal indulgences-”

But given the right conditions, Damian loved being the center of attention, and as soon as guests started arriving he seemed to find his place. Half an hour in Dick showed up, bunching his arms around Damian in a tight hug which Damian only half-pretended to hate – he had flown in from Chicago specifically for this, while Bruce and Alfred kept it a secret. Tim was there, took a few pictures with Damian and with Bruce, provided a blurb for the press. At his side was Tam Fox, who was the one to actually coordinate the mini press conference and remind Tim that his PR team wanted the photos. Damian resented Tim’s presence, but he didn’t hate Tam; she was particularly taken by his oil paintings, and deeply impressed by the single completed marble sculpture he had decided to show.

Colin showed up in jeans and a button-up shirt, and Damian gave him a copy of the comic, free of charge. Though Cass was out of the country on business, as she was wont to be, both Stephanie and Barbara showed up together. “Damn, Li’l D, this is good,” said Steph. “Way better than that macaroni portrait you gave me way back when.”

A few years ago, Damian had been coerced into attending a week-long summer camp where Stephanie worked as a camp counselor. They had indeed created macaroni portraits, and the one Damian had made of Stephanie still hung in her room.

An anonymous patron bought six paintings and the sculpture for nearly twenty thousand dollars. Tam Fox signed for whoever it was. The rest of the purchases and donations amounted to twice that, and when they gave the check to the local community center in Gotham’s poorest neighborhood, Bruce matched the donation in full.

On the drive home from the ceremony, Damian would say, “You know, throwing money at every little urban ill doesn’t necessarily amount to making a positive, sustainable change-” and Bruce had not interrupted his son. If he had, he might have told Damian that he was proud.

#i spent like an hour on wikipedia researching hand injuries hand physiotherapy and sculpting but I Still Sound Like An Idiot #the intent was to have bruce set up a gallery showing at the end to Encourage Damian To Explore The Arts but idk i am tired #earth 28

2 notes · View notes

princessofall · 6 years

Text

Tw: Domestic abuse. Please take time to read this

I don't have many followers, but if anyone finds this, please share. I'm a Nigerian Teenager. I want to keep myself anonymous for several reasons. When I first joined Tumblr, I was overwhelmed by all the posts abt feminism, women's rights, condemning rape and domestic abuse. In about three weeks, I agreed we should all be feminists. My father is an abusive husband. Not just to my mom. But even to his kids. They've been married for 19 years, and I can tell u, my mom has gone through hell and back. It even got worse when his parents both died, because they'd always take her side. Yesterday evening my mom went out. Now we're Christians and since its the beginning of they year, most of us engage in a 21-day fast, to pray and prepare for the new year. Then at the end of every day, we go to church to pray, worship, praise God and then we eat, most times together. My mom has always been a devout Christian to a fault. And that's her biggest problem. Don't get me wrong, I'm a Christian myself, but you see, whenever my mom objects to a decision my dad makes, he would shut her up by saying that the Bible commands her to submit to him. When I became a feminist, I kept on warning her that this mentality was going to kill her one day. She just smiles and says its her duty as a wife. My dad doesn't lift a finger at home. And I fucking mean it, we cook for him, serve him, prepare bath water for him, do his laundry etc. He's the 'man of the house' so to speak. When I entered university, and my mom didn't have anyone to help her at home, it was even more stressful. She had to clean that big house all on her own, cook, take care of my younger sibling. My dad calls me almost everyday in school to report my mom's 'bad behavior' (meaning she didn't prepare his food in time). He also warns me not to be a 'bad wife' like her because I wouldn't last a week in my husband's house. Now let ke tell u, my mother is one of the most patient, enduring women I know. My dad's sisters (one of them has refused to see him till today) even ask my mom how she copes with such a monster. The day my sister got reported falsely in school, (and I say falsely because the teacher later admitted to wrong judgment) my dad almost kicked her out of the house. She was 15 then, last year. He treated her like an outcast at home and it was so heartbreaking to watch a grown man do this to his child. My sister will never forgive him for that. Even when he beat her with a belt. We don't talk abt it anymore but I know she will never forget it. My father is a dictator, meaning that when he makes a decision in the House, no other person's opinion matter. I couldn't live with this one. I'd always ask my mom if she didn't talk with him. She'd shrug and say that's his final decision. I'd be mad and tell her to speak up for herself but I think the mentality of a submissive wife has been ingrained to her head. My mom isn't a housewife just so u know. She works at the state government as a high-ranking official. We're not poor. I live in a big house. My father has three expensive cars, and a hotel he's been running for years. He's an influential man, a politician. I found out last year, he controls my mom's salary, meaning the money my mom works for, he decided how she spends it. Maybe I should have noticed this sooner, but my mom was such a good pretender, smiling to our faces. But now I realize that I was very stupid. Of course he's been abusive all this while. Do you know what's more painful? He's the leader of the Christian men's fellowship in church, very 'friendly' and full of smiles. Every other day of the week, he'd be shouting, insulting, and probably hitting my mom, then on Sunday he puts a smile on his face, holds my mom's hand and pretends like they're the perfect Christian couple. Its terrible I hate it I hate it. My brother keeps in saying that he will never be like my father. I pray so too. Back to the reason why I'm actually posting this. My Dad declared that everyone including my mom should be home by 7pm, no matter where they are. Everyone tries their best to obey this rule and is always back by 7. But you see. We're humans, and no matter what, there'll always be that one mishap that will stop u from reaching home after the curfew. My mom couldn't leave church by 6:30 and start coming because the parking space was full and many cars were blocking her from driving out. She had no option but to wait till the service was over. Its not like, the rest of us weren't worried back at home. We were. Because she doesn't stay that late. But my dad called me and started ranting abt how disobedient my mom was and how she's a terrible wife and I shouldn't be like her. I listened quietly like I normally do, not saying anything, my father frightens me so I don't object his opinions out loud. When my mom finally came back, I heard her car engine as she parked in the compound but I was taking my bath. I sent abt 30 mins in my room, before I came back, ready to greet my mom and ask her what kept her out late. She was nowhere to be seen. Then my aunt(who lives with us) told me that my dad had locked my mom outside. I was horrified. It was 9:45. Remember this is Africa, mosquitoes were everywhere, and it was a cold night. And also remember we were fasting my mom hadn't eaten all day. My mom was locked outside her home by her husband for staying in church. I and my aunty begged my daddy for more than two hours, he ignored us and went to sleep. It was by 12:45, he told us to bring her in. My aunty and I rushed outside to get her. I walked slowly outside. It was too painful to watch. Here was my 50 year old mother, sobbing outside her home by 12:45 midnight. I couldn't bear it. She came inside and we started to make food for her. When my aunt left the kitchen to get her phone, my mom told my dad had beaten her outside before locking her out for 'disobeying' him, she said it with a smile on her face, like it was the most random thing ever. She even tried to take the soup bowl from me, that she could do it herself. I was angry. How could she just come in and behave like everything was okay? She had been doing this throughout her marriage behaving like this was how marriages go. She didn't sleep with my dad yesterday night. She slept in the living room. I remember before she told me to go to bed last night, she said, with a smile on her face and a shrug, "Well, let me go upstairs and face the rest of my punishment". I was horrified. Later that night, my dad called me to tell me that my mom wasn't going to sleep in our house again. He was kicking her out till her dad and siblings come, then they'll talk about how my mother can live here again. What he really wanted was an apology and for people to scold my mom for being disobedient, since most of them take her side. While he was telling me this, I should have said something, begged, pleaded, but I couldn't. My father terrifies me. Sometimes I get mini-panic attack when he calls me at home. Maybe I'm a coward for not speaking up yesterday, but it would have been worse on my mom because he would blame her for my 'bad' behavior. This morning, he expects to have his food prepared for him to go to work. I couldn't. My aunty made breakfast for him. I can never respect that man again. Now as I type this, my mom can't go to work. My dad locked their room and took the keys. She hasn't taken her bath and has no clothes to wear. I heard her laughing to herself like an insane person. Most of my dad's abuse over the years has been mentally and emotionally, and m afraid my mom is on the verge of losing it I told my sister this morning what happened and she laughed painfully and asked me why I was surprised. I will quote her: "After what daddy did to me, do you think I will be surprised about anything you tell me? Or have u been blind all these years?" I felt so silly because I have been blind. My mom turned 50 on Monday and my dad threw a 'party' for her. He invited more than 20 of his friends and only 1 of my mother's friend. Yes, one. My mom did most of the serving and work that day, she was only invited to cut the cake, my dad and his friends spent the day drinking and eating. And it was supposed to be HER birthday party. I dont know what to do. I want to leave this house buy I can't because we all depend on my dad for income. I'm a good writer but I haven't been able to to find a way to earn money with writing and still be in school. I want my mom to leave that place with my siblings. I'm tired. My father is a monster. What's worse is that. He doesn't drink. No, he doesn't. He does all thus things with a conscious mind. I could go on and on and on. How he ruined Christmas for my siblings and I, he cares about his friends, status and reputation than his family, how he brings friends over without telling us then starts barking at us to serve food. If my dad wants something, you have to stop whatever it is ur doing to attend to him. I've burnt food, paused in the middle of a meal, skipped class, abandoned my chores to attend to him. He also banned us from receiving male visitors no matter the reason. My brother is a terrible singer but he forced him to join the church choir because it looks good for his image. He almost stopped me from living in school because I came home late. (We had lectures by 5-6:30. And its an almost two hour journey from school to my home. My father wanted me to go through that stress everyday because he realized he could not monitor and control me from school. I'm ashamed of myself too. For not realizing he's been beating mummy for years. I don't want my brothers to be like him. My brother keeps on saying he'll be nothing like him, but I worry sometimes because he's the only father figure he's known. I remember when a man from our church was tutoring my sister and one day he advised her to be a good woman so she could marry a man like my father. She was horrified but kept silent. She told me that evening. Thats shows how much my dad has the whole world fooled. I wish I had the money to leave this place. I can't bear to see my mom live the rest of her life with this monster. Because I'll definitely leave one day, as with the rest of my siblings, but she's stuck with him till she dies because people preach that "marriage is a lifetime commitment". I'm trapped in a big house, with no love where we live in fear everyday. Please reblog. Thank you

0 notes