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tumblepenguin · 2 years

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Why Weird: The Al Yankovic Story is the best music biopic film

So I watched it last night and I highly recommend it! But while watching the movie I kept thinking "This script is too good. Like this is too clever for it's own good." This thought couldn't escape me. I had to break down why this movie is, quite frankly, the perfect parody and love letter to the music biopic film. Quite possibly the best music biopic film.

In this essay, I will be using the songs that are explicitly referenced in Weird: The Al Yankovic Story as a way to showcase how they reflect or subvert the music biopic film tropes. How these songs are meant show the "real life backstory" of Weird Al Yankovic (and also, the universe this movie takes place in) is quite frankly buckwild. And we start at The Beginning and our first song.

My Bologna—The movie begins with the framing device—a voice over. Then, Weird Al is going to the hospital and being pronounced dead by Lin Manuel Miranda (the Hamilton writer/multi Grammy winner who was receiving the Hollywood Walk of Fame Star the same day as Weird Al and WHO JUST HAPPENED TO BE WITH WEIRD AL AT THE TIME OF THE ANNOUCEMENT OF THEIR WINS. ANYWAY WE WILL GET BACK TO THIS PLOT POINT LATER).

More voiceover. We see the hero's journey start by showing how Weird Al was a musically gifted child, but his family discouraged him. His Mom is the traditional 50's wife while Dad is a Overworked Blue Collar Man who works at factory (BUT THE ENTIRE MOVIE, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HE MAKES, SIMILAR TO HOW IN A BIOPIC MOVIE, THE "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ME DAD" DAD HAS "A TOUGH JOB THAT PUT BREAD ON THE TABLE, BUT MY DAMN SON DOESN'T APPRECIATE IT" FACTORY JOB). It is here we also establish the future Mentor+Agent character, but I'm getting ahead of myself. After receiving "The One True Calling"—(ie, the traveling salesman with the accordion, others gaining the appreciation for his talent at a high school polka party, the reveal to the "You Don't Understand Me" Dad how his son played the accordion in secret (complete with doing so "in the closet" because "My mom supports my artistic achievements, but still has to be a good housewife and follow her husband's rules, but to hell with the rules" idea), only for the "You Don't Understand Me" Dad to crush his spirits (ie throw him out of the house for his talent and we get the important line of "I will become Perhaps Not Technically the Best at But Arguably the Most Famous Accordion Player")—does our hero start the journey. He has a couple of tough gigs/ getting rejected while he's away from home. The future band mates are the new friends he makes away from home (guys that, as the movie points out, have shown NO MUSICAL TALENT OR INTEREST EARLIER IN THE FILM UNTIL THE BIG "GETS DISCOVERED BY A MENTOR+AGENT" MOMENT. GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF). After encouraging our hero to keep going, the future bandmates find themselves at the BIG MOMENT. The moment when our hero is tested for first time with the 1st song. The one that all audiences will know. A softball in terms of the types of references yet to come. In this case, Weird Al gets the inspiration for My Bologna after making his future bandmates a boloney sandwich.

I Love Rocky Road—The "Gets Discovered By a Mentor+Agent" moment of the music biopic. So after the real life recording of My Bologna in the bathroom (with some "dramatic license"), our hero sends his song to Captain Buffoon, a radio DJ (great name btw). The song is played on the radio and to our hero, things are looking up for him! Wrong! The record execs with TERRIBLE WIGS™ aren't buying it! They don't understand how this will get them cash money.

(Sidebar: one of the record executives is Weird Al himself in a Terrible Wig ™. And the other executive (Will Forte) is just laying into our hero. Just laying it on with saying "You're so dumb! You'll never amount to anything. Your breath kinda sticks too!" kinda jokes. And The Real Weird Al is like "hey man, that seems a little harsh." But Will Forte keeps going, making the childish insults worse. And The Real Weird Al has to say "that's kinda harsh, you don't need to go into him like that" about Fictional Weird Al. Anyway, great sequence folks.)

But our hero is not discouraged. Cause his tape to Captain Buffoon did get him a gig at a TOUGH BIKER BAR™/the "Tough crowd to win over" moment (with one bar patron being Patton Oswald, who was originally Dr Demento in the Funny or Die sketch that kicked this whole idea off. The bar owner is Dot-Marie Jones, which made me personally happy). And so he goes up alone, starts singing. But it doesn't seem to be working! The bikers/crowd aren't buying it either! See, they know what it means to be real! But low! Our hero, being discouraged, suddenly shows that "he can do it guys"! Not only that, but his friends are joining him too! The band is forming! The crowd is loving it! What once was slurs and heckling being thrown at our hero is now rapturous applause! Our hero's trial is over. BUT, a dark entity was watching from the bar. In a funny looking getup in the shadows.

Another One Rides the Bus—The Dark Bargain begins. Our dark bargain mentor figure is Rainn Wilson, playing Dr Demento (there are 2. COUNT EM 2 JOKES ABOUT DEMENTORS IN THIS SCENE ALONE. WITH LONG PAUSES FOR AUDIENCES TO REALIZE HE REFERENCING HARRY POTTER WHILE HARRY POTTER (Daniel Radcliffe) IS ON SCREEN). The success of the song means our hero gets his first taste of FAME and HIS STAGE NAME. He goes to a party with the ultimate blunt rotation including:

• Devo

• Elton John

• PeeWee Herman

• Tiny Tim

• Elvira, Mistress of the Dark

• Alice Cooper with a fake snake

• The comedian Gallagher played by Paul F Tompkins

• Kate Pierson from the B-52s

• Grace Jones

• Divine

• Salvador Dali

• Frank Zappa

• Conan O'Brien as Andy Warhol

(Sidebar: There is also a man with a guitar talking to "Elton" and another shot of a man with white blonde hair and suit that I didn't recognize. If someone could help me identify who these are supposed to be, that would be great!)

And our hero gets tested again by Jack Black as Wolfman Jack and John Deacon (bass player of Queen, which is funny because MOST PEOPLE DON'T KNOW THAT INFO, SO WE'RE MAKING JOKES ABOUT HOW RECOGNIZABLE SOMEONE IS. THE IDEA COMES UP AGAIN LATER IN THE MOVIE). This group of people are like the bikers—they need to see if he's the Real Thing AGAIN. Which gives us another "in universe" biopic song. And the guests are impressed! And soon, our boy is getting interviewed by Oprah (with Quinta Brunson as Oprah, which is incredible). The interview starts showing that he is getting money, the house he always wanted, The Dream ™. He even shows his chain of platinum records that he wears at all times (IT SAVES HIM LATER, TRUST ME). All he needs now is THE GIRL. Enter Evan Rachel Wood as Madonna. She sees the interview with Oprah and "Sees What She Likes

(Sidebar: in the Oprah broadcast we find out Pablo Escobar—yes, the international drug cartel leader—is one of the biggest Weird Al fans. THIS WILL BE IMPORTANT LATER).

Cut to a hotel room. Our hero makes THE PHONE CALL BACK HOME™ to check in with the family. His mom picks up (IT'S ALWAYS THE MOM IN MOVIES. ALWAYS), and she says that she misses her little boy and Dad isn't home cause he's working the factory. The trope gets subverted because she says how disappointed she is with our hero, instead of the typical "Moms always support their kids and their kids' dreams" in most movies. This brings the hero DOWN. He finds his mentor (for some reason being in a bathtub connected to the bedroom where the The Phone Call From Home™ happens). And he gets drugged on LSD! So now we have a Dream Sequence. Which is amazing! At the end, he emerges Reborn! He has also created THE GREATEST THING EVER. His "Sgt. Pepper's" (including DRUG INFLUENCE ™) if you will.

Eat It—This time, "The record executives can do nothing but be in awe of the genius they just listened to". But our hero is tired of being a ONE TRICK PONY. He wants to make his own music. This song isn't a parody. And in the universe of the movie, Michael Jackson is the greatest Parody writer of all time. Because "Beat It" in this universe is a cover song (maybe so are all popular songs ever—hard to say). Now the little man and his accordion are the ones who dominate the charts. They shape music history forever. Not everyone he actually covers in real life.

(Sidebar: This is the most batshit thought I had while watching this movie. BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE.)

This song is The Biggest Song in the World. And our hero is getting even more FAME. But with that comes Another Dark Bargain. At this point in a music biopic, our hero will have/or has encountered his supposed downfall. In music biopics, it's usually the mentor+agent, corrupted by money/fame. Sometimes it's the girlfriend who's a HUGE SLUT/does a lot of drugs/encourages the use of drugs/just being a BAD INFLUENCE. In this case, the girlfriend is Madonna (someone that Conservatives think is all the things depicted in the movie already. Yes, probably even being the queen of a drug cartel after killing Pablo Escobar and then takes out Weird Al via assassination at the Not Grammy Grammys BUT I AM JUMPING AHEAD OF MYSELF IN THIS STORY). So she stops on by The Mansion™ and she and Weird Al are Opposites Attract ™. They start making out (but can't show sex scenes in a PG-13 film). And the making out is so fucking funny. But now, "The Girl is in his life, and he's starting to get distracted from his job!" plot line has entered the chat. And Dr Demento is not having it. Instead of focusing on some exciting opportunities (including playing for Pablo "Previously Stated as One of Weird Al's Biggest Fans" Escobar for his 40th birthday party. Also there's a joke about Led Zeppelin versus Howie Mandel and having Weird Al replace Roger Moore as James Bond. And he throws a fit about only doing original work. Which is hilarious since we live in a "Who's the next James Bond after Daniel Craig" era), our hero just wants to be with his BAD INFLUENCE.

While at dinner with Madonna, there is a phone call.

(Sidebar: Weird Al states "This has been the happiest six hours of my life". How I'm choosing to believe that from the time Madonna and Weird Al made out, do the Next Morning Scene™ to the time of this dinner—including the previously established "Getting Distracted" scene—all took place in six hours. Insane.)

It's from one of the record executives (played by The Real Weird Al). It's about Michael Jackson "parodying" Eat It. And our hero IS NOT HAVING IT ™. The first blow that will lead to DOWNFALL. The Phone is getting smashed. Our hero will now be linked to Michael Jackson forever because of this parody! He returns to the table and cannot eat (it. GET IT? Also the waiter is Josh Groban). Now Madonna is giving him alcohol. The Slow Decent to the Bottom has begun! Meanwhile, the band is pissed! We haven't seen them in several minutes, but the BAND IS FIGHTING is about to commence. They say Weird Al has lost touch. He threats to replace everyone with machines (even the GUY WE DON'T REMEMBER IS IN THE BAND, LIKE JASON DEACON, BASS PLAYER FOR QUEEN. See, it all comes back around). "You've changed man," is said. Dr Demento arrives to try and SALVAGE THE SITUATION ™. But "Anything you want to say, you can say in front of my BAD INFLUENCE." And the mentor figure thinks The Girl=Bad Influence. "She's only using you for her own gains" line is used. But our hero is blinded by the love/BAD INFLUENCE to see the truth. This is also where the hinting mention of Like a Surgeon happens (BUT WE'RE NOT THERE YET. THE PAYOFF HASN'T HAPPENED YET). "You're not my real dad!" (even though this entire time, Weird Al wasn't looking for a Father Figure™). The mentor+agent figure is now dismissed. Madonna runs after him, telling him not to Drive While Drunk. But hands over the car keys away cause she a BAD INFLUENCE. While Driving To Clear His Head ™, our hero flips through the radio. It's playing the top radio hits (HIS SONGS) and he turns off the radio is disgust. Suddenly we have a car crash.

Like a Surgeon—We are now back in the hospital. All of the previously stated information is the first HOUR AND FOUR MINUTES OF THIS MOVIE. TO SET UP THE REASON LIKE A SURGEON EXISTS AS A SONG. THIS IS THE GIVEN BACKSTORY FOR THIS SONG.

But now, it's The Second Biggest Thing of All Time. And we get choreography that's the Vogue choreography. And Madonna is doing it backstage. So she's inspired by Weird Al, not ballroom dance culture, to dance like that in Vogue. Fucking wild. Also the backup dancers are wearing cone bras (a thing Madonna made famous with Like a Virgin). We now get The Doors movie parody with the ROCK BOTTOM MOMENT. Which includes flashing the accordion to the audience (instead of a dick). And now, our boy is CANCELLED and has to LAY LOW, which mean going to a diner with his very famous girlfriend. Madonna says what their Hollywood couple/ship name should be. But they couldn't lay low, because Madonna got kidnaped by Pablo Escobar. That's right, you forgot about Pablo Escobar, didn't you? But I mentioned him previously. And now, he's now the main plotline. All for Weird Al not noticing him senpai.

And now our movie turns into an action movie. With an amazing diner fight+punchline at the end of the scene. Also a "Predator style jungle knockout to sneak onto the enemy's basecamp" scene. And Madonna is being held hostage during Pablo's 40th birthday party, including a mariachi band playing. But Weird Al shows up and a firefight ensues. He gains the upper hand (cause everyone is a terrible shot+Tarantino style blood squibs go off. It's awesome).

THEN PABLO ESCOBAR SHOOTS WEIRD AL DEAD.

BUT PSYCH! CAUSE CHAIN OF PLATINUM RECORDS SAVED HIS ASS. AN HOUR AND SEVENTEEN MINUTES INTO THE MOVIE WE BRING THE CHECKHOV'S RECORD BACK. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

And Weird Al kills Pablo Escobar by throwing a record into his head. And Madonna, being the #girlboss that she is, decides she wants to becoming the head of an international drug cartel, and wants Weird Al to help her. But he decides to go against her. Her BAD INFLUENCE no longer has a hold on his life. AND THE VOICE OVER RETURNS. Cause now "the hero has to return home before his big comeback after the Fall from Grace" needs to happen, because of course that's what you do in a music biopic. So he returns home and starts working at the factory pushing levers and buttons that we, the audience and he, Weird Al, doesn't have a clue what they do (other than maim fellow factory workers, BUT WHATEVER). The "You Don't Understand Me" Dad finds him in the Depths Of Despair. And our hero has his emotional outburst. But our Dad has turned a new leaf. In fact, he like parody songs! He even sings the oldest one we know ("Jingle Bells, Batman Smells"). Also the mom is wearing the EAT IT fat suit.

(Sidebar: I feel mixed on this fat suit, but I won't get into it right now.)

And with this shared parody ancestry, the Dad thinks it's finally time to tell Weird Al why he was against him playing the accordion in the first place.

Amish Paradise—Dad's Tragic Backstory/Footloose Reason Why Society Doesn't Allow Their Kids to Do INSERT BLANK ACTIVITY HERE. Everything that you have read up until this point, an HOUR AND TWENTY FIVE MINUTES OF THE MOVIE, has been leading to this backstory for this song's inclusion in the movie. You're welcome. This Tragic Backstory is also animated, so thanks! Also because this is a rap/motivationally sounding song (I guess???), we see that our hero has Returned to Fight Another Day! This time with a new sound!

(Sidebar: does anyone else wonder if Coolio knew about this cameo before he died? Just asking cause Madonna apparently wasn't consulted about the role Evan Rachel Wood plays in this film according to interviews I watched after the fact).

This song is at the Not Grammy Grammys (he gets the "Perhaps Not Technically the Best at But Arguably the Most Famous Accordion Player" award over Prince. We'll need to move on from there). After being present the award by Diana Ross and Hulk Hogan, our guy wins and goes onstage to accept. Meanwhile, an assassin is seating in the front row. But wait, I thought Pablo Escobar is dead? Who is in charge of this assassin? Why, it's our girl Madonna. BUT I'M GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF.

The acceptance speech become a "Suck It Losers!" kinda speech. And here is where the A Star is Born reference with Weird Al pissing himself onstage happens. And Weird Al is assassinated. By a Madonna who is no longer in the audience, dressed in what I think is her American Life outfit.

(Sidebar: IS CYNDI LAUPUR NEXT TO DR DEMENTO IN THE AUDIENCE? CAUSE THAT'S NOT EVAN RACHEL WOOD AND WE NEEDED A FAKEOUT OF MADONNA SUPPOSEDLY SITTING IN THE AUDIENCE IN ORDER FOR HER DO THE ASSASSINATION. ANYWAY!)

And we get "What happened after the artist died/peaked" before credits rolls. Then credits with fake photos are mixed with real photos from childhood (I think those are real. If not, great touch). AND WE GET A MID CREDITS SCENE. Madonna brings flowers to Weird Al's grave (that says ATE IT 1985), but as she's leaving a zombie hand of Weird Al grabs her to drag her to hell like the end of Carrie/other horror movies. So Weird Al has been dead this entire time, and we have only been listening to a Zombie Weird Al since 1985!

Now You Know—the "Yep, this 100% happened guys. Totally!" song. Also has some great mentions about how long/repetitive the song is, who worked on the film, explicitly showing the parody songs instead of the originals used in the end credits, mentioning the "studio musician backing vocals" (who sound amazing by the way), and how the song can technically be nominated for an Oscar.

And this is why this movie is the great parody of all time.

#weird al yankovic #weird #weird al biopic #music #what a weird world #movies #cinema

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spoilertv · 10 months

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#SpoilerTV

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ellaintrigue · 1 year

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A Muslim and a Christian walk into a bar...

A few years ago my conservative Christian boss was leaning her 400 pound frame against the counter while me and Brian, my gay coworker did all the work as usual. Brian was married to a man but didn't talk about it with customers or anything. You never know how people will react around here. Our regular Muslim customer strode in and started yapping as usual. I had no problem with him, I just don't like religion. This guy randomly stated to my coworker that he needed to a find a good woman so he would smile more or something else along those lines. My boss smirked and said, "but he likes boys."

The Muslim absolutely loses it. He points at my coworker and starts screaming, "YOU ARE GOING TO HELL! YOU ARE GOING TO HELL! YOU ARE GOING TO HELL!" over and over. Brian and I were shocked and my boss was laughing her ass off. I was worried we would get physically attacked. Christians and Muslims are often enemies yet they share the same views. It's ironic, really.

Bigotry in religion is a promise. Humans turn to religion for comfort and something to look up to but too many of them get a form of power from it: putting down others to feel good about themselves. But what I am rather confused on is reproduction. We all know that Muslims and Christians hate anyone who supports abortion, but what about the blurred lines on birth? The Muslim customer's daughter was 27 years old and had 7 children. She had babies with every man she dated. She had just given birth 3 months ago when she was hired at my job. While we worked together she met a new man and was pregnant by him within weeks of dating. WITH TRIPLETS! Because that is how she was raised. She was taught that the purpose of a woman was to give birth and her religion was against birth control. She ended up miscarrying one fetus and having a ruptured gallbladder.

She was a very beautiful young woman and clearly intelligent, just brainwashed. But I was baffled by her having never been married. A former coworker, a conservative Christian, had kid after kid with her ex husbands because she too was taught that her worth was based on having children. She neglected her kids, and my Muslim coworker would just leave her children with other people all the time. She offered to share her $900 foodstamp balance with me since she wasn't supporting her kids that week.

So I get mixed signals on whether you should be married or not but in religion you must give birth no matter what, that is a fact. I have had religious men call me a monster for not wanting kids and call me worthless if I say I can't have kids and leave the first part out. My mom's friend Anna became pregnant with a deformed fetus and early on her doctors told her to abort because the child would not live and only suffer in the short time it was alive. She refused because she was Catholic and carried it to term. It was a barely formed blob and suffered greatly before it died within hours of birth.

Another Muslim I spoke to said he would not let his wife see a gynecologist for her severe female issues because only "whores" get examined by doctors. I do like to tease these folks a bit, normally I rave how much I love to eat pork, but I added going to the doctor to the list. If I want to offend them I say that I get routine pap smears. GASP! The horror!

For whatever vague reason, women of radical religions must give birth at all costs: the cost of their mental and physical wellbeing, and the cost of the child's wellbeing. It doesn't matter if the kid is loved or cared for, only that it is born so a woman can prove her purpose. Religion is indeed created by men. Literally.

#Religion #Small town life #Patriarchy #Sexism #Homophobia #Oppression #Misogyny #Abortion #LGBTQ #Bigotry

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dailyaudiobiblechronological · 2 years

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10/30/2022 DAB Chronological Transcription

Luke 17:11-18:14

Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm China. Today is the 30th day of October. Welcome. It is so great to be back here with you this week as we are finishing out the last week well, the last couple of days, but also the last week of October. Very excited to finish this out together. And I cannot believe we're almost in November. Just this past weekend, Reagan, my daughter and I, we were outside and we went for a walk in the morning and we all had sweaters on. And then we came home in the afternoon. We were playing outside with the leaves and playing with chalk, and we had to go inside and change and put short sleeves on because it was really warm. It was 73 degrees outside. And I was okay, here we are. Welcome to Fall in the south, where it changes every day. So we'll see. We've definitely had 70 degree Christmas days, so maybe that will happen, I don't know. But I'm very I'm like actually in the Christmas mood. I feel like I've never been actually in the Christmas mood. I kind of have to force yourself there. But I've been really excited and looking forward to it. Maybe it's because I have a kiddo now, but anyways, excited to be back here with you today. Today we are in the book of Luke. We are in chapter 17. We're going to be in verse eleven through chapter 18, through verse 14. That's a little confusing for a second, but since it's a new week, we're going to switch up the translation. And we will be in the English Standard version.

Commentary:

So what an upside down thing to hear. We talked about this not last week, but the week before, and just kind of walking through what it would be like if we were in this time frame with Jesus, if we had a way of belief that we were claiming this is right, this is the way to do it. We've been instructed by God and we have followed in this. This has been this way for how long? And now here's this man claiming to be the Messiah, claiming to be what we have been looking for, but he's not in the way we expected him. He's not saying the things we expected. And Jesus is speaking in parables, and he had to have known that some people were not going to be able to understand. It's like when it's almost like this. And the reason why I say this is because this happened to me recently. It's like when a kid tells you a joke and they are like waiting for you to laugh. And you're like, those are just much words together and I don't understand what you say, what you're saying, but you want me to understand, don't you? So I will just nod my head or laugh. It happened the other day to me, and I just said, I don't know what to do. But that's kind of like what my brain thinks in terms of terrible, because there's some of these that I read and I'm like, okay, I want to dive deeper into this. Maybe there's some cultural things that need to be taken into consideration, and maybe it's because I have some things in my own heart that are hardened and need to be softened. But also imagine being told that there's a coming of the kingdom and hearing a parable that there's going to be two laying in a bed and one will still be laying there while the other is gone, right? Is this not the plot for Left Behind, right? These are the things I never have watched that. So if it's not the plot, then so sorry. But I remember people saying that they watched that movie and we're terrified because it's like the scary thought of, like, oh, did I miss the rapture? I think my mom has a few of those stories. And so when you're kind of told those things as a kid, I remember playing the game behind and go seek and couldn't find a friend or a family member, whoever I was playing with, and feeling like, is this the rapture? Did I get left behind? But all this to say, could you imagine being in this crowd? Could you imagine being a pharisee? First of all, no, thank you. But then could you imagine though, like, truly being on the receiving end of this and being confused, being perplexed, being like, okay, I don't really want to ask questions because I've seen what happens to the type of responses. But nonetheless, the Lord well, Jesus, he is revealing the Lord's kingdom. He's revealing why his father sent him. And I love that he's not like, you guys get it. Come on, understand it. Come on. Why don't you understand? It like what we do when we feel misunderstood or make ourselves big or feel small and retaliate in whatever way that looks like. I just love that Jesus proves Himself to be faithful and true in every single thing that he does. And that just feels so inviting and so endearing and so drawing in. And I think if anything, it just makes me pray that same prayer that that man that we read about the week before last where he said, Lord, I believe that help my unbelief. And gosh, I just find myself praying that so often.

Prayer:

So Lord I thank you for your word. I thank you again that we have Your scriptures to really check ourselves and to check and see what's going on in our hearts and even the things that we don't super grasp what I think that we have Your Word to go back to and as we evolve in our faith and as we evolve in our understanding of you and even culture from way back then. Because I know that plays a huge part in the context. I thank you that your truth is still there and that it is constantly revealing new pieces of itself and yourself to us. And I just thank you that you aren't frustrated with our human mind or our human heart. You created it. You know us and you love us and Lord, we thank you for that. And it's in your name, we pray. Amen.

Announcements:

Dailyaudiobible.com is our website. That's a place of connection so you can see what is happening here in the community, how to get connected and stay connected. Then be sure to check that out. You can also go to Facebook.comdailyaudiobiblechronological and we have a page there that you can also connect with other DABCers as well. It's fun sometimes to put a name to a face. So if that is something that you would like to utilize, feel free to do so. That is all for today. I'm China. I love you and I'm excited about this week, but I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer Line:

Hello DABC family. This is Diana from Florida and I want to provide an update on the girls that I'm mentoring. One of them, her name is Jasmine. I had shared with you all that she needs a car and she still has not gotten the car yet. But the praise report here is that she has been able to team up with another mom in the program to lease their own apartment. And this is so huge community, because originally these girls were renting rooms, they didn't have a kitchen for themselves to cook their own food, they were sharing bathrooms with multiple people. They didn't have their own space to go to where they could feel more safe and secure and be able to flourish better. And so this is such a huge deal, such a praise report, and I just want to thank everyone who's been praying for some of these girls. I also want to ask you to continue to pray for now, the next step of purchasing the car and dealing with all the kinks that come with that. But I also want to ask that you pray for my other men team. Her father has cancer. She just gave birth to her baby and I've been trying to be in touch with her, but she hasn't responded back. And I do believe that her emotions and are unraveling and she may be going through postpartum depression. Please pray for her. Her name is Katie. Take care community. Love you. Bye.

Hi, this prayer is for Andy James, who had a stroke after giving birth. Heavenly Father, lord, I want to lift up Andy to you right now. God, I ask that you would be with her in this time of need, her and her family, God, that you would work in her recovery, that you could be with the doctors, the physical therapists, the nurses, everyone that she comes in contact with, everyone that is helping her toward full and total recovery. Father, I asked that she would be with her husband and she is carrying the load of their household income right now and is the only parent to their little girl right now. Father, I ask that you would give him strength, give him comfort as his wife is away from him and bless him with everything that he needs. God. I want to lift up the grandparents that are taking baby Lily to see her mom on Sundays, God. I ask that you would speak to that little baby in a way that only you can. That you would send the Holy Spirit to comfort her as she is not able to spend that time and that bonding time with her mom. But that you will let her know that not only does her mother love her. But that you love her and that You've got her and you have her wrapped in Your arms in her mother's absence. Lord, I just ask that you with the grandparents, that you would give them strength, that they do all that they can for baby Lily and for Andy, and for Andy's husband. I just noticed that this entire family, the entire situation, god, you are in control and there are no mistakes, Father. So we lift up this family to you God, in Jesus precious name we pray. Amen.

Hi, this is Victoria Soldier, just calling to pray for some of the DABers. I wanted to pray for Liz from Texas about her business and her family. I wanted to pray for Julie, who's dealing with multiple sclerosis, and I want to pray for her. And the lady who called her husband and her going, I think her husband had multiple sclerosis and they are going through it in their family. And we will pray for those who lost a loved one in their family and they're going through the precious doctor that lost their life in a home while in bed. I want to pray for that family and the one that was in an automobile accident. I wanted to pray for their precious family that they will make it through those who have lost someone and they don't know how to mourning process. And I just want to ask God to help them and to strengthen them and to help them to find the strength to make it through. Gracious Father, praise your name. I just ask you to touch your DAB listeners, Lord. Touch your people, Father, and the challenges that they're going through. Lord, you are God that can heal. The lady said if you could just touch him your garment that you shall be made whole. You said greater things that we are able to do, Lord, and we just ask you for healing. We just ask you for deliverance. We just ask you for strength. We just ask you for your grace. We just ask you for the victory in Christ Jesus, lord, we just ask you to have Your way, lord, we just glad that you never leave us and never forsake forsaken, Lord, there was that precious young man that committed suicide, Lord. Oh, Lord, we asked you to touch our children, Lord, and help them to find a way. Oh, God. In the name of Jesus. Touch that family, Lord, and help them to find the peace and the strength to make it through. Father, in the name of Jesus. Lord, we just praise you. And we thank you for the victory. We thank you for the victory because you always causes us to triumph. We thank you for the healing. We thank you for that precious lady that wants to walk with her children, Father. We just ask that you granted that victory in the mighty name of Jesus. We thank you, Lord. We thank you for touching DABers. We thank you for touching Brian and his family. Jill and China and little baby. And of course the whole family. We just ask you to have your way. And, Lord, we give you the glory and the honor and the praise in Jesus name. Have a good day. Love you all. Bye.

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gifted-burnout-archive · 3 years

Text

All I Want For Christmas Is You

Word Count: 5.8K+

Author’s Note: ok so someone ask me why I chose pedraz and I’ll tell you. I loved writing this, I think we all missed luke smut, I know I did. And frenemies is always fun, especially when the sexual tension is real. And christmas time too! i hope you guys enjoy it.

Pairings: luke patterson x reader - cousin!julie x reader

Warnings: smut, baby!

Some people just radiate confidence, wherever they go, whatever they do. You meet one of those people and often find yourself blown away by their beauty, their intelligence, their sheer, raw and unfiltered talent: the sort of people that walk into a room and all eyes suddenly fall onto them, because why wouldn’t they?

In short, there wasn’t a lot that Luke wasn’t good at.

The Los Feliz senior was perhaps the most popular kid in school; the band he was lead guitarist of certainly aided in that status, but in truth he was just that likeable, that talented, that handsome. He would find himself denying it when complimented, diverting the praise somewhere else, holding on to what little humility a guy that appealing could have. The sort of person who would spend his weekends helping the homeless or saving cats from trees, all while keeping up with his schoolwork, a meticulous work out routine and band practice.

And yet he still couldn’t convince the girl he liked to go out with him.

“Morning, pendejo.” As the school bell rung one colder-then-usual December morning, Luke was greeted by the familiar term of endearment from his locker neighbour and Julie Molina’s older cousin, Y/N. A senior, like he was, and his bandmate’s closest confidante, Y/N and Luke had been acquainted for their entire childhoods, and ‘friends’ for perhaps seven months out of fifteen plus years. They had gone through grade school together, just like Luke had with Alex, and later on Reggie when he moved to LA, lived down the street from one another, ran in similar social circles for the majority of high school.

That wasn’t to say they were actually friends, quite the opposite in fact. Their mutual of Julie forced upon them each other’s company, despite the very blatant truth everyone but Luke’s lead singer and Y/N’s prima pequeña was unaware of:

Luke and Y/N were too competitive to ever get along.

In the same way that Luke lit up rooms with his smile and charmed the socks off of every person he met, Y/N did the same. Call it her adoptive mother’s perfectionist agenda, her own high expectations, or simple happenstance, Y/N Pedraz was the sort of person whose only obstacle was her own mind. The sort of person who had the brightest stars in her eyes and the sweetest symphonies in her laughter, with a brain as sharp as her wit and extensive vocabulary to offend someone in three separate languages; she was the girl with the wall of blue ribbons and the report card with straight As, the girl who, alongside her aunt, taught Julie piano.

The girl Luke had been in love with since 6th grade.

“Idiota? Are you even listening?” Luke was snapped from his thoughts to look back down at the girl stood beside him, watching him with a raised eyebrow as he tried to form enough saliva in his mouth, that had suddenly become very dry, in hopes of responding. After a few seconds of no luck, Y/N smiled and shook her head. “Not wasting your breath on me, how sweet. Julie wants you and the guys to come to mine for band practice. Something about the studio roof having a hole in it and people coming to fix it, and my mom is on her holiday detox cruise until the New Year so the only person you’ll be disturbing is me!” The chipper tone of voice was laced in sarcasm, and Luke couldn’t help but role his eyes at her, to which she scoffed. “Since I’m doing you the favour, Mr Rockstar, you should maybe be nicer to me.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Princess?” Luke finally found his words, calmed his heart beat, and dressed his face with a cheeky smirk as he closed over his locker and leant back against the cool blue metal. “But if we were nice to each other, who would hate us?” He posed the question, earning a soft smile from the girl, a victory in his book. It wasn’t often he got a genuine smile out of her.

“The problems with being perfect, Patterson.” She collected her books and closed over her own door, spinning on her sneaker heel with a flip of her hair. “Hasta luego, guapo.” She called back to Luke, making her way towards her next class as the second bell of the day rang, and Luke muttered a soft ‘shit’ as he started in a sprint towards his first class on the other side of the school.

He managed to cross the doorway of his English class just as the bell rang, sending a wink and grin to his teacher Madame Monroe, who was so old people were convinced she immortal, and taking his seat at the back of the class with a sigh of relief, busying himself with pulling out their current reading piece and notepad.

“Hey man-” he started to whisper as he looked to his left, only to find Alex already holding out a pencil to him, the pair sharing a smile. “Thanks.”

“I’m guessing the Queen ambushed you, that’s why you’re late?” Reggie asked from his right, Monroe calling on some of the lacrosse players to wheel in the old tv stand: the end of term had some benefits, at least, and the class in unison tidied away their books for the period.

“We’re supposed to head to her place after school, band practice, Julie’s orders.” Luke explained in a low enough voice that Monroe’s limited hearing wouldn’t catch.

“She told me this morning.” Alex agreed, his friends looking over. “What? Student Council happens before school, we were both here early.” He muttered, folding his arms and slouching a little in his seat. “Besides, I like her. I know Luke doesn’t but I do.” Alex took a moment before defending himself, gesturing to the band’s guitarist with a sickly sweet smile. “She’s you, but a little less irritating.”

“Hey!” Reggie interjected, to what Luke hoped was a counter attack. “Y/N is extremely less irritating.” Reggie corrected to the chuckles of himself and Alex, and the groans of Luke stuck in the middle. “You know she got me a Christmas present last week? When was the last time I got one of those from you, Luke?”

“Can it Peters, you know I’m broke.” Luke punched his friend’s arm playfully, and the conversation ended as some VHS b-rated movie started to play, leaving Luke to sit with himself, and wonder just how he was meant to focus on band practice that night in Y/N’s house.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of Christmas movies and idle chatter about their upcoming gig, and with the end of the school day, Alex, Reggie and Luke made their way towards the Pedraz house. Julie’s Tía’s house was only a few street south of the Molina residence. The neighbourhood was lovely: the houses were a little bigger, the lawns a little greener, the air a little sweeter, but as the three friends made their way over from school that evening, the sun already setting as half past four closed in on them, they were more than aware that the Christmas decorations weren’t the only artificial thing on the street.

Everything about the place was almost too perfect: the comforts and mess and the smell of chocolate that seemed to constantly circulate over the Molina home was lost to the Pedraz residence on Mercer Drive: Alex knew, his parents developed the area. There was no room for gum on the sidewalks or dry patches of grass, not a soccer ball or trampoline or anything fun in sight. The holiday décor was simple Christmas lights, all the same colour, all the same icicle effect design in a bright white-blue to match alongside the greyscale housing. Every inch of the Mercer development looked the same, almost like a movie set for one of those new Netflix movies, and it was almost disturbing.

Almost: because just as the three boys arrived at their destination, they spotted the only house on the row with paper snowflakes in the window and a snowman sat by the door; the only house, it seemed, to have anyone under the age of fifty living in it.

“You found it!” The cry came as the front door swung open, Julie rushing over and hugging each of the boys in greeting, careful to avoid the guitars Luke and Reggie had strapped to their backs, before taking Alex by the arm and leading him inside, towards that same Molina smell of chocolate that wafted from the house. “Hurry up, Y/N made cookies.” She added, talking to Reggie and Luke, the former wasting no time in rushing into the home and kicking off his shoes.

Luke found himself paused, what his friends believed to be his reluctance to enter the home was actually his taking a moment to examine: to notice the wreath on the doorway that was sprinkled in a coat of glitter; or the way each of the snowflakes in the front room window were cut with perfectly straight lines despite the intricate patterns; how beyond the blinds he could see the flickering Christmas tree lights.

“You coming in or what?” It was the second time that day Y/N caught Luke off guard, Luke following the sound of her voice to her frame in the doorway, arms folded over a white slip dress, paired with a deep green turtleneck under it, and white fluffy slippers. Her hair was tied up, a messy bun atop her head, that did little to make her appear taller. “You’re letting out the heat, Patterson.”

“Really? With how cold your personality is, I assumed your house was some sort of modern day ice palace.” Luke quipped back, making his way up the front lawn’s path and onto the little porch. Y/N seemed hesitant to let him in, almost as hesitant as he was to enter: he had never been to her house before, this was new territory. Their common ground at the Molinas was the limit of their out-of-school socialisation. “You look really nice in, uh, the dress is…” Luke started, in hopes of relieving the tension.

“Don’t strain yourself.” Y/N seemed to concede, walking back into her house and, by association, allowing Luke to follow her in and close over the door. He followed her straight to the kitchen, where Julie was sat on a counter while Alex and Reggie dug into the fresh baked cookies. “You can you the front room, there’s another batch of cookies in the oven that need to come out in seven minutes.” Y/N began to explain to the band, Reggie pausing the shoving of sweet treats into his mouth for a moment to listen. “There’s juice in the fridge, if you need anything urgent I’ll be in my room. Upstairs, second door on the right.” She informed, walking over and letting Julie latch onto her, forcing the girl into a hug from her little cousin.

“Don’t you want to stay and listen? We’re pretty good, you know.” Julie gave her best puppy dog eyes, and Luke couldn’t help but smile as he watched Y/N pinch the singer’s cheeks.

“I know you’re good, but someone has to plan the fundraiser you’re performing at.” Y/N reminded. As a member of the Student Council, and an upstanding citizen in general, she had been asked to assist in organising the community Christmas Concert, a concert she had also gotten her little cousin’s band on the set list for. “Besides, I like surprises.” She assured, picking up a cookie from the cooling rack and taking a bite as she headed upstairs, leaving the four friends to their own devices.

“Luke, come on man, what is going on with you today?” Alex asked, hours later, as the four sat at Julie’s kitchen table, pizza for dinner. Their rehearsal that had had been far from great, Luke had barely been responsive half the time, and when Ray called Julie about ordering pizza for the guys and her, ending their rehearsal and sending them back up the street of Julie’s house, their was plenty left to be desired.

“The last time you played that bad was the stomach flu of ’15.” Reggie added, his eyes widening. “Dude you better not be sick.”

“I’m not, I’m fine… It’s…” Luke sighed, taking another bite of his pepperoni slice, his brows furrowed. He didn’t know what was going on with him: if it was because of Y/N and being in her house and knowing she was around, or something else entirely, but the guys were right.

He had never played worse.

“Do you really dislike her that much?” It was just that asked the question, Luke looking across the table at his bandmate, perhaps his closest friend, only to see her looking back at him with sad eyes and a deep frown herself.

“Jules-” Luke started, but she cut him off.

“I know she can be stubborn and I know she can be a little overbearing at times, but I just thought if you guys spent more time together, got to know each other, you might get along?” Julie began, setting down her pizza and beginning to pace the kitchen floor like she often did when stressed out. She took a deep breath, her voice shaky as she started up again. “She can be an asshole sometimes, sure, but she got us the Christmas Concert gig, she suggests us to play every school event, she’s my cousin Luke! And I know you two don’t always see eye to eye on stuff because you’re competitive, or whatever, but can’t you just try and be-”

“I’m in love with her.”

Julie stopped pacing then, turning to look over at Luke as he sat at the end of the table, his head hung low as his hands rake through his hair.

“That’s not funny, Luke.”

“Good. It’s not a joke.” He responded, looking up at his friends with a pained smile, letting out a short, cold laugh. “I’m in love with Y/N, I’ve been in love with her for six years… Give or take.” He confessed to it, finally, and was greeted by the most confused expressions on his friends’ faces.

“But you hate each other!” Reggie exclaimed; of the opinion he was stating the obvious. “You fight with Y/N more than Flynn fights with Carrie, you compete against her at everything, you spend more time complaining about her than anyone else you know and you know me. And Carrie! This has to be some sort of joke, man, I mean-”

“You’ve proven to the entire world you’re incompatible, both of you. Like, if ever there were two people who despised each other more, who made the effort to despise each other more…” Alex trailed off, baffled, her and Reggie both so shocked that they turned to Julie for answers.

She stood at the end of the table, arms folded just like Y/N did, her eyes narrow as she examined Luke, watching his reactions to his friends’ words. How he screwed up his nose at the mention of their shared rival of Carrie Wilson, the way he smiled like Reggie’s ranting invoked fond memories, the shift to a frown when Alex mentioned ‘incompatibility’.

“He’s telling the truth.” Julie decided, Luke’s eyes locking with hers, her face softening as his was painted by surprise. He hadn’t expected her to back him up, but then again he hadn’t expected to tell them about his dilemma either.

“He is?” Reggie whispered, and Julie nodded, confirming her statement. “But… But how? When?”

“She beat me in the school talent show… Sixth grade.” Luke said softly, the memory one he held dear, at least that was what his smile told his friends. “I fucked up and messed up my chord progressions at the end of my guitar piece… And she came on stage and just sang her heart out.”

“If I remember correctly, that happened and then you put pudding into her gym shoes as revenge.” Alex added, still not totally convinced.

“I just took credit for that one… It was actually Dorothy Matthews.”

“That makes sense, she was a mean kid.” Reggie agreed with a nod of the head and an accompanying shiver. “And five inches taller than me for all of middle school.”

“She was really tall, wasn’t she?” Luke agreed, the pair sharing a laugh as Julie and Alex watched on.

“Of topic, guys!” Alex snapped after a moment, the room falling silent as the blonde though over his next words. “So, you’re in love with Y/N, have been for years… And why haven’t you just asked her out?” The question had the conversation back on topic, all eyes on the brown haired boy as he chuckled to himself.

“I have. Multiple times. But it always went wrong or she misunderstood and thought I was joking, and at some point I just gave up trying.” He shrugged, letting out a sigh of defeat that had Julie rolling her eyes.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Patterson.” She said with a smirk. “A complete and absolute fucking idiot.”

“That’s not very nice.” Luke pouted. “Can’t you all just feel sorry about my unrequited love life and forgive me for sucking today?”

“Alex, who do we often refer to as ‘Luke’s female equivalent’?”

“Uh… Y/N?”

“And Reggie, if we know how Luke reacts when he likes someone, would it be safe to assume that Y/N might react in the same way?”

“You mean how Luke has no idea how to ask a girl out and instead teased her for half a decade? Oh, definitely.”

“So… Maybe, Luke, you’ve been so blinded by your assumed rejection that you haven’t noticed that maybe, just maybe, my cousin is also in love with you?” Julie posed the suggestion, and Luke sat up straight.

“That’s insane.”

“Is it though? Alex already said you both were so persistent in showing you despised each other. Maybe, I dunno, she loves you too and doesn’t think you even like her because you do shit like put pudding in her gym shoes!”

“That was Dorothy Matthews!”

“Y/N doesn’t know that!” Julie exclaimed, and Luke fell silent.

It was minutely plausible, the line of reasoning Julie gave, but a part of him couldn’t believe it even though he wanted to. Y/N was perfect; she always had been perfect, and Luke was a musician really considering dropping out of high school before the year was out. How would someone like her… Why would someone like her even think to care about someone like him?

“You know, I feel like now is where we make the big plan, get those lovebirds together, then celebrate by playing the best show ever at the concert, right?” Reggie spoke up through a mouthful of pizza, the four sharing glances.

“It won’t work.” Luke insisted.

“And what if it does?” Julie countered, smiling over at him. “Luke, if you’re so insistent then let me and the guys handle it. You just need to show up somewhere the night before the concert, ok?” She proposed, with an eagerly nodding Reggie on her right and a still perplexed Alex to her left. “Worse comes to worst, we can perform a Mariah Carey cover without you and say you’re sick or something.”

It was the last thing Y/N needed, really it was. Julie’s name flashing up on her phone the night before the Christmas Concert, the voice urgent down the phone as she begged her to head home, that Julie would meet her there. It wasn’t like she could say no to her baby cousin in distress, far from it: she would be more than willing to punch the daylight out of whoever had hurt her Jules.

That was what Julie had been betting on, of course, and Y/N arrived home from the mall that evening to find her front door open and a note on her porch.

She rushed over, her brain scrambling to figure out just how to tell her Uncle Ray that Julie had been kidnapped, grabbing the note from the floor and tearing it open:

I’m fine, you’ll thank me later.

Julie xx

“Dios mio…” Y/N muttered: her relief integrated with annoyance. Of course her cousin had planned something to get her away from her responsibilities. A glance at her watch, and Y/N realised getting back to the mall in time that night before it closed wouldn’t be a possibility.

That’s when music started to play from inside the house.

“Is this some kind of joke?” She called into her house, noticing for the first time that candles that lit up the hallway in a trail towards her kitchen. They bathed her home in a warm glow, one far more welcoming than the chilly breeze from outside. And with nothing better to do, and curiosity peaked, Y/N stepped inside, closed the front door behind her and followed the trail.

“No joke, I’m afraid… I was just as shocked as you were.” The voice that greeted wasn’t the one Y/N expected: but then, no-one really expected Luke Patterson of all people to be standing in their kitchen, beside what seemed to be a candlelit dinner for two sat on the dining table. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You hungry?” Luke asked with a nervous chuckle, one that Y/N reciprocated. She was safe to say slightly confused, but she had no intention to refuse.

“Starving.” She smiled in response, one of those genuine smiles Luke always liked to see on her face, and Luke pulled out a chair for her to sit down. She accepted, taking a seat and quickly taking her hair out of it’s ponytail when Luke turned around to fetch a bottle of grape soda from the counter.

“Clearly none of our friends have fake IDs, so please pretend it’s alcoholic.” Luke apologised, but the words had Y/N giggling as he poured her ‘wine’ to accompany the pasta dishes that sat before the pair.

“I’m assuming Julie devised some sort of elaborate scheme to make us friends or something?” Y/N asked, and Luke scratched at the back of his neck, the dread already building in his stomach.

“Sort of, yeah.”

“Sort of?” Y/N asked, her brows furrowing as she waited on Luke’s explanation. He quickly picked up the bottle again with a shaky hand, clearly not the best of ideas, since the pouring of red grape soda into his wine glass soon turned to the toppling of said glass and the liquid spreading across the table.

“Shit!” Luke exclaimed, jumping up and surveying the mess he had made, opting to pull of his shirt in a split second decision to try and mop up the juice before it hit the grey carpets below. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I swear to God I’m not usually this uncoordinated.” He rambled, managing to mop up the juice without getting any on the carpet. His eyes moved up, to check in on the silent Y/N, who sat with clasped hands and wide eyes. “Fuck…”

“You’re shirtless…” She muttered, doing her best to look anywhere but Luke’s naked chest and abdomen.

“I am.” Luke agreed, watching the reaction with interest. H wondered for a moment, trying to assess whether she was being respectful of his body and not looking out of simple decency, or if she was embarrassed by the situation for him, or something else. “Y/N?

“Uh huh?”

“Want to tell me where the laundry room is?” He asked, holding back a laugh when she darted up and rushed towards the utility room at the back of the house, beckoning him to follow, grape soda soaked shirt in hand.

Y/N was quick to turn on the light and busy herself setting up the washing machine, seeming glad to have something to do from Luke’s perspective. When she held out a hand for the shirt, he passed it over, crossing to the sink to wash the stick of the soda from his digits as Y/N messed with wash settings.

“It’s uh… It’s just me and mom… I don’t really have clothes you could change into.” Y/N muttered, coming over to the sink to wash her hands free of grape soda too.

“That’s fine.” Luke responded, and physically felt Y/N tense beside him for a moment. “I mean, the wash will take an hour, drying another… Two hours isn’t so long.”

“Two hours is long enough.” Y/N retorted drying her hands and making a quick beeline for the door. A hand caught her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“Why so edgy, Princess?” Luke asked, unable to find it in himself not to tease the clearly wound up Y/N.

“None of your business.” She responded, looking him in the eye before wrenching her arm free and starting from the main floor of the house.

“I mean, I just want to know what I did wrong, Y/N.” He pleaded, sarcastic in tone, watching Y/N march and efficiently blow out the candles that lit up the kitchen and hallway. He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline from just being around her, or that fact he was just dumb enough to try it, but when Y/N finished blowing the candles out at the front door, Luke took his chance and pinned her in when she stood up.

“Let me go.” She demanded, keeping her chin high and a level head, here eyes locked with his. Had Luke not been more interested in answers, he would have lost himself in those eyes.

“Not until you answer my question. We’ll call it my Christmas present, since I know you got Reggie and Alex something.” Luke replied with a shit-eating grin, one hand coming to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, why so edgy, Princess?”

“Like I’d tell you, asshole.”

“Was it the food? The candles? You don’t like grape juice!” The incorrect guesses, the implied teasing, there was only so much Y/N could handle before she lost her temper.

“I don’t like you! I don’t like you appearing out of nowhere in my house and making dinner and having fire hazards everywhere! I don’t like you mopping up soda with your shirt and acting like you being shirtless is no big deal when it is! It really is…” She trailed off for a second, snapping back from whatever memory flashed before her eyes. “I don’t like you so close to me either! I should have you arrested for trespassing and indecent exposure, Patterson.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because if you really didn’t want me this close to you, you would have punched me in the face by now.” Luke chuckled. “Everyone knows after Bradley Jacobs in sophomore year that you have a mean left hook.” He reminded her of the time she punched the kids making sexist comments: she had charmed her way out of suspension.

“You’re meant to be performing in my Christmas show tomorrow, I’d prefer you not to have a black eye.” The excuse was weak, they both knew it. A silence filled the air as they stood close, somewhere between fear and tension, of what kind Y/N didn’t want to admit. “Stop being an asshole, Luke. It’s not fair.”

“What isn’t?” He teased further.

“To do this when you don’t even like me.” She whispered, her eyes closing as she let out a shaky breath, only for them to open in surprise when a set of lips met hers. Luke took the chance, of course he did, and he was glad he did. The taste of her strawberry chapstick was like heaven, the kiss sweet and gentle and chaste. He moved himself back, adding to the space between them as Y/N leant back against the door, her pupils blown.

“Y/N?” He asked, checking in, trying to figure out if he’d be getting the same reward as Bradley Jacobs for his actions. Her name being said shook off the daze she was in, Y/N looking up at Luke, rather apprehensive, stood shirtless in her hallway after he had just kissed her out of nowhere.

“Why… Why didn’t you do that sooner?” She asked, quietly, a smile and giggle coming to her lips as they looked at one another, catching Luke by pleasant surprise.

“I didn’t think you liked me.”

“Didn’t think- Luke I asked you out two weeks ago and you said no!” She exclaimed through her laughter, another wave of giggles hitting her when Luke’s mouth formed into an ‘o’.

“The library trip…” He realised, letting himself laugh too. “I mean, you really weren’t specific, and you’ve rejected me too you know.” He replied, the smile settling on his face one that wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

Especially not when Y/N closed the space between them and pressed her lips to his.

With the realisation of their stupidity, a sudden desperation added itself to the equation. There was time to make up, actions to apologise for, tension to finally put to use, and neither were planning on stopping until they had won. The kissed turned hungry, tongues clashing as Luke’s hands came down to Y/N’s thighs and lifted her into his arms, starting the climb up the stairway to the top floor of the house.

Y/N wasn’t sure how Luke knew where her room was, she wasn’t sure if what she was doing would backfire on her in some way, but frankly, she didn’t care. As Luke’s hands melted against her body, pulling off her shirt as they fell to the bed, all she wanted was him. His lips moved from hers to her neck, nipping at the skin softly as he hands worked off her skirt, and Y/N’s worked on unbuckling his belt.

They were both in their underwear in a few moments, breathing heavy and looking at one another: Y/N laid back on the bed, Luke sat back on his heels at the end of the bed.

“Do you-”

“Yes.” Y/N replied before Luke had a chance to finish the question. “Do you?”

“God yes.” He agreed, moving up her body and pressing kisses against her skin, goosebumps forming wherever his cold lips hit. When his kisses reached her underwear, his hands wrapped around the flimsy lace material and pulled them off, the kisses continuing on the insides of her thighs.

“Jesus Luke, haven’t we teased each other enough?” Y/N cursed, the words coming out as a moan. It was a sound Luke had wanted to hear her make for so long, he had to put effort into not losing himself right then and there.

“Fair enough.” He conceded, taking no further hesitation in pressing his fingers against her damp core and his tongue to her clit.

Y/N found it hard to control the noises that left her mouth as Luke got to work pleasuring her, his fingers moving at a rapid and steady pace as his tongue teased her sensitivity, the curl of his fingers to her sweet spot only added on by the pressured of his tongue. She did her best to hold back, to quieten down, but in response Luke’s touch disappeared.

“I want to hear you, Princess.” He grinned, moving up the bed and taking her hands into one of his, placing them above her head. “Keep them there.” He ordered, and while Y/N was far from someone who took orders from anyone ever, if it meant Luke’s tongue would be back on her heat, she was happy to do just about anything he said.

As his tongue went back to her core, Y/N didn’t hold back on her moans. She’d thought about the exact event happening at least twice before, but had never pictured Luke at being so good with his mouth. It made sense logically, as a singer his mouth was his weapon, and… Her brain wiped clean as another moan escaped her, pressure building in the pit of her stomach.

“Fuck, Luke…” She whimpered, her back arching, her head falling back into the pillows.

“Cum for me.” Luke spoke in a low voice; his smirk ever present as his fingers took Y/N over the edge into euphoria. It was waves, the feeling a pure pleasure falling over her body, sending her legs trembling as Luke helped her ride out the high. He only moved once he was certain she had completed, slipping his fingers from her core as he leant over the bed, lifting up his jeans to find Y/N resting on her elbows, an eyebrow raised.

“What?” Luke asked as he retrieved the condom from his jean pocket. “A man’s got to be prepared.”

“You really thought I was that easy?” Y/N asked with a grin and she took the package from him and tore it open, taking her time to pump his shaft before rolling on the protection.

“Not that easy in general, no… But I can be…” Luke spoke and Y/N’s lay back and he lined himself up with her entrance, a twinkle in his eye as he pushed himself inside her and spoke. “Persuasive.” The moan elicited from Y/N seemed to prove his theory.

His movements were slow and gentle at first, both of them taking the time to get accustomed to one another, but with a nod from Y/N for Luke to continue, he took control. The pace became fast, thrusts powerful and deep, Luke making sure Y/N wouldn’t be forgetting the feeling of him inside her any time soon. His hands pinned down hers, pressing Y/N down into the bed as he pounded into her, relentless, both chasing their highs.

Y/N rolled her hips in time with Luke, earning groans from the man on top of her, taking the moment of weakness to flip them over, her hands now pining down Luke’s as he lay back on the bed, his face clearly stunned by the move she had pulled, though it didn’t last long. His eyes screwed shut as he let out a groan, his head rolling back at the feeling of Y/N riding his cock, each roll of the hips casting moans from their mouths.

“I’m close…” Luke muttered, looking up to see Y/N somewhere near completion as well. Her hands on his did little to combat his strength, taking control once more to grabbed Y/N’s thighs, thrusting upwards into her a rapid speed for them both to reach their highs through a strings of curses and cries of pleasure.

Y/N let herself fall limp on top of Luke as they both caught their breath, their chests rising and falling in time with one another.

“Well…” Y/N spoke first, biting her lip as she lifted herself off of Luke, giving him a chance to bin the condom. “That was…”

“The best Christmas present ever.” Luke whispered as they lay side by side on Y/N’s bed, the words sending them both into fits of laughter, ones Luke quelled by kissing Y/N gently.

“Yeah. Agreed.”

Tags: @reggiesleatherjacket @parkeret @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @delicatelukepatterson @lukespatterson @kcd15 @siennanoelle01 @eries45 @lolychu @lazydaisy19 @reggieandthereggies @writerinlearning @mjflower @uhmitstori @walkingonshunshine @kristencoontz @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @ritz-hell-hotel @mishappend @dovegranger @dmcfarland1 @cherrymaybank @oswinsleaf @only-here-for-jatp @jatpfan99 @n0wornever @bookdealer5 @epikskool @thesweetestsinner @fangirlangioma @moviesbooksandfandoms @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned @saroo-hawks @charliessunset @bigdesi @avngrsinitiative @emotionalbruv @korydickson @uglypeachh @rogersangel @independentgirl @mon-charmante @writingforphantoms @musicconversedance @heimdoodle @-episkey- @obxmermaid @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @simp4madi @aliciameix @kinda-just-chillin-here @blueyed-one @ghostlyb1tch @leahstypewriter @parkeret @lukereggies @hologramband @all-in-fangirl @daisiesforlacey @valntynegillespie @lukespaterson @dovesgrangers @sunsetswerve @sorryimricki @dani27297 @talksoprettyjjx @imsydneywalker @katie-navarro @aydoubleu @kaitieskidmore1 @magnet-girl @axen-gers @dpaccione @mjrsposts @starswereherspotlight @g7aesthetic

#abby's twelve days of christmas #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson smut #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson fluff #luke jatp #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #reggie peters #alex mercer #fluff #smut #fluffy smut

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funnyexel · 3 years

Text

Potential Yandere x Abused Fem!Reader

A/n: This is another drabble. I’ve been trying to pass it as a x reader story but I got severely stumped so I decided to still post it. (cause I feel like I did a fantastic job on it) If you squint, you could count this as yandere.

Summary: Basically, the story is about you running away from your twisted household (controlled by your step-mother) to get away from her, as you were escaping you get kidnapped. You soon find out it was your “dead” husband, your step-mother arranged you to marry for money and soon after killed him because he was trying to help your situation. Now he is bent on protecting you and getting “even” with your step-mom...any means necessary.

Warnings: Scars, Mentions of death, Mentions of abuse, Trauma, Slight smut, Mushy stuff. Masterlist Mega List

You ran away. You just couldn't take it anymore. The loneliness and the abuse was killing you from the inside out. Tears burn in your eyes and stain your cheeks. Now caught up in yourself, you neglect to realize the hand over your mouth. "Finally." You managed to let out a few muffled screams before you completely knocked out.

"No one will want a fat, stuck up brat! 20 more!" "Yes, Mother."

Transitioning from low breaths, you awake breathing heavily. "GET OUT!" You flinch at the sudden noise and clashing of objects. The somewhat familiar male voice sighs. You try to shift the bag off your head but fail. "oh right the bag." He snatches the bag off your head. Your head whips to the side, tears smoothly fall down your face. He forces your face to see his. "p-please-" The tears in your eyes wash away and you can see a clear picture of the male. He caresses your cheek. "Y/n~ It's been a while." He holds the back of his neck.

Slowly jerking your head back. You try and gather your emotions. 'Do I want to hit him or kiss him?' You thought. "I missed you." You keep your gaze with him. Blood rushes to your face without your consent. "I guess you didn't miss me.." He falsely pouts. "I did." You whisper. He smiles. "Get off the floor." You get up and realize that you had your hands behind your back for nothing. Looking him up and down, you analyze his tall and muscular nature. Wanting to run up to him and kiss him. You decide to hold back. The thought of him suffering from the lost of touch is funny to you.

Just like how you both were when you were younger. You finally ignore your thoughts and listen to your aching body. Legs trembling, you trip over your weak feet before you could faceplant, he catches you. 'Oh right. Prince Charming waited 3 long years to get me.' Now remembering the horrible memories. He lays you down on a couch and removes your clothes to unveil your undergarments. He uses a med-kit to patch you up. "Your scars have gotten worse." He looks up to you slightly. You look away from him. "Stop staring at me like that."

He chuckles at your annoyance. "Are you hungry?" He briefly stops bandaging you to give you a tray of food. "Eat. If you're hungry tell me. Don't sit here starving yourself." You eat little by little enjoying the food. He moves from your legs to your arms. "What happened to your ring?" He examines your left hand kissing it softly. "I still have it." You reach into the side of your bra and take out the ring dangling on a chain. "Who gave you that chain?" He finished patching you up. Given your silence, he knows where it's from.

He reaches for your hand to retrieve the chain and take the ring. "I do not want you to have anyone else's stuff but mine." He puts the chain on the table. "You're unusually quiet." You turn away. "W-where have you been for three years?" You glide your hand over his tattoos and bold muscles. He gently takes your left hand and holds it in his, to place the ring on your ring finger. "Trying to get you." He kisses the ring and clutches onto your hand. "I-I thought...y-you w-were...I s-saw."

Tears stream down your face unexpectedly with the whirlpool of emotions. "Dead." You couldn't hold yourself back from his touch anymore. You launched yourself into his arms and fit into his lap perfectly. He softly whispered reassuring little nothings in your ear. His voice soothes your uneasy state. "You'll be safe with me. I promise to you that you will never go back, ever." You clench onto him harder, making small marks into his skin through his clothes.

"I-I need- have um-" You stutter causing your cheeks to heat up. He rubs your shoulder as a comforting gesture. "I...I've realized, over the time apart and grieving. That I-" You choke on your unspoken words but manifest the strength to hold his cheek and gaze deep into his eyes. "I love you. I thought that I realized too late and looking at this second chance. I was second guessing whether to tell you or not. But I wanted you to know." Slowly leaning in, a half a breath from his lips.

You close the gap, placing your soft lips on his and sluggishly parting your lips. 'His eyes are closed.' You thought studying his facial features. Whilst tracing your slender fingers over his godly jaw line. He got casted out of your trance, pulling your waist into his. Thirstily matching his lips up with yours. You felt déjà vu and a stinging sensation on your thigh. But it wasn't painful, it could never be painful from him. It was a stinging of coldness turning warm from your touch.

Your bottom lip felt wet. Very wet. He was asking for permission to your wonderful mouth. You opened your mouth for him without a second thought. Feeling his heavy palm trailing from your waist smoothly to your neck. Gripping hard but soft never wanting to let go. Your body shifted to straddling him and your hand stopped awkwardly waving in the air and rubbed along the hand holding your thigh. Applying warmth to his upper arm and bicep. You moan breaking the kiss, throwing your head back due to his icy touch up your back. You stare at each other, breathing heavily. "I love you too." He says between deep inhales and exhales. "You're always so warm." He buries his head in your shoulder, both his hands covering your back. "And you’re always so cold." You chuckle and shiver under his touch. Rapidly blushing, realizing you're only in your panties and bra.

You wiggle in his lap trying to reach a piece of clothing. But he holds you down with his heavenly grip. He lifts his head from your shoulder, blush lightly dusting his face. "Are you trying to get something out of me?" His muscular voice echoes in and out your ear. You hesitantly shake your head. Thinking about what he said you notice your sitting near his groin. He moves his hands around your back attempting to capture all your warmth. "Shirt." You gaze into his night black eyes.

A sweater is draped on your back with little to no movement. He sits up and puts your arms through the sleeves, then zipping up the sweater. Shivering at the new warmth, he places a kiss on your nose then mouth. You smile and touch your nose. He lifts you off his lap and onto the couch. "Stay in here. I'll be back." He gets up and looks over himself in the mirror. Seeing you staring at him from the couch with a slight pout. "Don't let anyone see those pretty panties."

Never taking your eyes off him, your cheeks redden and you push down the sweater to cover your underwear. He snickers at your actions, swiftly leaving the room. Your eye falls back to the mirror. 'This is really happening.' You thought. One song was replaying in your head, sex by eden but only one particular part of the song. 'Oh no, I think I'm catching feelings.' And you know you already told him you love him but it felt like you were catching feelings all over again. The statement from the man became distant as time passes by, or you became very bored very fast. Either way you got up from the couch, wobbling on your feet. You stare at yourself through the mirror. Dark circles having a long term stay underneath your eyes, big lips being temporarily present on your face, light hickeys being displayed on your lower chin and neck, and light tears burned into your cheeks. You rub away the tear marks with the oversized sleeve.

His sweater was sizeable to your body. It hugged your body perfectly but all the while drowning you in the sweater. Doing some more walking around. You come across a nicely framed photo of you and him. You remembered that like it was taken yesterday, if you recall correctly his sister took that picture. You were sitting in his lap, assembling a puzzle together but he was getting frustrated so you decided to take over. You laugh at the bubbly memory.

'I look so focus on the puzzle meanwhile he buried his face in my hair.' You slightly blush and put the picture back. You go to his desk and sit in his chair. "woaah~ this chair is so comfortable." You lie back into the chair and spin it, making sure not to mess up anything on his desk. "how long is he going to take?" You groan feeling extremely lonely. Listening closely, you hear the sound of a train, the speedy move of the train smoothly moving on the noisy tracks. As if they hit a bump on the track your body falls out the chair.

You turn over rubbing your knees. Multiple footsteps meet your ear range. Looking around, you quickly crawl underneath the desk slightly hitting your head on the way in. "ouch." And a squeal leaves your mouth before they busted in the room. "If this is just your bad hearing, we're gonna be in a lot of trouble." A strong woman voice exclaims. "I heard something fall. I swear." A male croaked back to the female. "Everything in here is bolted to the floor. Get out his office before he catches you." Someone chimes in and the footsteps fade out the room.

You left out a shaky breath and rub your head. 'I'll just stay under here.' You thought to yourself and nodded. In silence, you thought about what you would do about your still existing problems at your old home. Even though, you wanted to forget. You couldn't risk him getting hurt or worse. "Hey, where are you?" His voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You knock on the inside of the desk and his footsteps approach you. He crouches down and looks at you curled up into a ball under the desk.

"what are you doing under here?" His soft tone flutters your heart and blesses you ears. As he extends his hand you eagerly take it and he pulls you out the dark space. He guides you to the couch and sits you down. "Here." He hands you black leggings. Getting up, you put on the pants and look up to him. "Promise." His hands meet your waist and lightly rubbed the sides. "Promise, what?" He chuckles looking down to you. "Promise you won't get killed."

You stare at him with solid eyes and spoke with a serious tone. "I promise to you I won't get killed." He matches your tone. "Pinky promise." You hold out a pinky and wait for him to meet your request. He smirks and holds your pinky with his. Shaking it twice. You let go and hug him, burying your face into his mid-chest. His well built arms circle around you, engulfing you in his body. You stay there until you begin to lose breath. "Accept my promise."

He smiles at you, before you could have a valid reaction, he traps you into a powerful kiss. Pulling your body closer and closer to his. All the while your hands travel to his neck, into his soft dark hair. The kiss was better than before, unrealistic at most. His tongue immediately got access to your mouth, exploring it and violating it. He slowly broke the kiss to trail them down to your neck. You huffed and moaned. Minimally visible air puffs leaving your mouth. He found your sweet spot and kissed it as deeply as he kissed your plump lips. Your lowly moans echoed the office, he gripped your chin and moved it to the side to get more access to your neck. His actions hit a sudden stop, he lifts up his head and plants a peck on your lips. He made you weak in the knees. And by the looks of it you made him the same way. He sat on the couch and patted his leg. You felt like sitting too but held off, to look in the mirror.

A dark mark visible to the naked eye, was made by him on your neck. You traced your fingers over it in admiration. Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes sparkled. His marks did that special thing to you that you couldn't explain even if you tried. Turning back to him you, sit on his lap and rest your head on his shoulder.

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daringyounggrayson · 3 years

Text

misplaced guilt

(Read below or on AO3)

It’s been a while since Bruce has been to one of these galas, and for once, he is neither hosting nor making a speech. It’s a nice change, to say the least.

Dick is sitting next to him, kicking his legs under the table. Bruce would tell him to stop, but at least he’s actually using the chair as intended with both feet closer to the floor than the chair, so Bruce lets it go for the moment. If it gets too out of control, he can always reach out and stop him, but for now, he’ll let the kid release some pent-up energy.

Bruce keeps half of his attention on Dick and the other half on his conversation with Jasmine Owen, a woman who works at one of Gotham’s youth centers. Bruce knew from the second she introduced herself that she came over in hopes of getting a donation, but he doesn’t mind; that’s one of the main purposes of these things, and Bruce is happy to help however he can.

“Babs,” Dick gasps excitedly, shooting upright when he catches Barbara walk into the room, Commissioner Gordon by her side. Bruce looks over at Dick, quirking an eyebrow. Dick smiles back, asks in his I’m-in-public-so-I’m-behaving-like-an-angel voice, “May I please be excused?”

“Hnn,” Bruce says, pretending to think over his answer.

“Bruce,” Dick whines.

Bruce smiles. “Alright. But stay in the ballroom. Dinner is going to be served soon.”

“Okay, thanks!” he slides out of his chair and offers a wave. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Owen.”

“And you, Richard,” she smiles back. When he’s gone, she turns to Bruce again and says, “He’s a sweet kid.”

Bruce can’t help but think at least in public, and at least to people who aren’t me. He’s half-joking, but there’s some truth to the statement: Dick has always seemed to behave better for Alfred, and he’s nothing if not an angel around strangers, even when he’s mad at Bruce.

At home, it’s not that Dick isn’t a good kid—he is—but he’s still a kid. Dick can be sassy, and he has a taste for anything that will make Bruce’s hair turn gray (usually dangerous, usually far away from the ground). He also has no qualms about making fun of Bruce when Dick feels it’s called for. Then there are the arguments, the borderline tantrums. Both have been decreasing in frequency, and Bruce attributes most of them to processing and coming to terms with his parents’ murder, but they are—difficult, to say the least. Dick will have these rough days—sometimes rough weeks—where he’ll lash out at Bruce over the smallest things. Sometimes it seems like he yells at Bruce just to put his hurt somewhere.

Bruce tries to take all of it—from the jokes at his expense that even he has to admit are funny, to the meltdowns—as a good sign, one that says Dick feels secure and knows that Bruce will love him regardless of his behavior or attitude. But there are certainly days when Bruce thinks it would be nice if Dick would listen to him like he listens to Alfred—like when Bruce tells him to get off of the unstable shed roof, for example.

Despite the challenges that come with raising a child, there are also so many blessings. There’s no other word to describe it. Seeing Dick learn and grow and thrive is something Bruce will never get tired of. On top of that, Dick is just this brilliant, funny, and kind child. He has the biggest heart Bruce has ever seen, and he cares so deeply and widely. Bruce doesn’t know how he got so lucky. Dick is Bruce’s light, his whole world.

Bruce pulls himself out of his head, says, “He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.” It’s something he can say with complete honesty. “Do you have kids?”

“Oh god, no. I think I’m still a little young for that,” she laughs. Then, thinking about what she said, her face falls. “Not that you were too young, just for me, I’d rather—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He puts his hands up and smiles. “I was really young when I took Dick in. I go to parent-teacher conferences, and most of the other parents are at least ten years older than me. But I like to think I’m doing alright, and Dick’s happy, so that’s all that matters.”

“Yes, I suppose.” She smiles, but looks down at the table.

“So, what’s it like day-to-day at the youth center?”

She looks up, coming alive again, and the conversation picks back up.

oOo

After dinner, Dick and Barbara disappear again, and Bruce is left alone to mingle. Most people come to him, but he only has to escape a few times, so it’s going about as good as these things can go.

That is until a very urgent Barbara runs into him and tugs on his arm. “Sorry everyone, but I need to borrow Brucie for a second.”

Bruce ducks down to look Barbara in the eye. “What is it?”

“Dick. Just come with me.”

He follows her without another word to the group of people he was talking to. She leads him into the hall and toward the lobby. When they turn the corner, Dick is on the ground in a lateral recumbent position. Gordon is talking to him gently, though Dick seems unresponsive.

“Dick.” Bruce lurches forward, falling to his knees and reaching out to find Dick’s pulse and check his breathing. “What happened?”

“Barbara thinks he had a seizure,” Gordon answers. “An ambulance will be here soon.”

Dick’s breath hitches and he lets out a low moan that feels like a twisting dagger in Bruce’s chest. His eyes find Bruce’s, and he unwraps one hand from his stomach to reach for Bruce’s. Bruce takes it, squeezing it gently in a reassuring manner.

“I’m right here,” Bruce promises, running a hand through Dick’s hair.

“It hurts,” Dick gasps.

“Shh, the paramedics are going to be here soon. We’ll fix it.”

Dick shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t feel right.”

Bruce tightens his grip slightly, hoping to keep Dick conscious. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”

“Head, stomach,” Dick mumbles. “Feel hot, an’ dizzy.”

Bruce frowns, trying to determine what could be causing Dick’s symptoms. Is this the beginning of an illness, or a seizure disorder? Has Dick been poisoned? There was a run-in with Scarecrow a few nights ago, and Dick had needed to take an untested antidote for the fear toxin. Could this be a delayed reaction to the concoction Bruce had come up with?

Dick’s grip loosens.

“Dick?” Bruce calls urgently. “Dick!”

He gets no response.

oOo

Dick is staring at a white ceiling when he realizes he’s awake. Sunlight is streaming in through a giant window on his right, and there’s a framed painting of giraffes across from him. He’s tired and confused, and his gut tells him that something is wrong, that something bad happened. His first thought is that he wants his mom.

He turns his head to the left, finding Bruce in a chair and holding his hand.

“Hi,” Dick says, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. Bruce grunts some kind of greeting and raises Dick’s bed while Dick takes in the medical bracelets on his wrist—one ID bracelet and one that indicates that he’s a fall risk—and the IV in the back of his hand. “What happened?”

Bruce shifts in his chair, face serious. “We were at the gala. You were poisoned.”

Dick matches Bruce’s expression, trying to think. He remembers being with Babs, telling her that something was wrong. Then he’d been on the ground, and there’d been sirens.

“The man who poisoned you had planned to offer me the antidote for a price, but he didn’t realize that you would react to the poison so—so severely,” Bruce explains, rubbing his thumb over Dick’s knuckles. “He was working as one of the waiters and heard the commotion. He came forward shortly after the ambulance left and he’s currently in custody.”

Dick swallows. “Why did he . . .” Why did he poison Dick in the first place? Need money so badly? Feel that poisoning Dick was the only option? “Would it have killed me? If he didn’t give us the antidote.”

Bruce, like always, is honest with Dick. “The doctors were able to stabilize you, but they needed to neutralize the poison quickly, and the antidote did that. It’s hard to say what would have happened without it, but things were touch and go for a while.”

Dick nods, not sure what to say as he takes it in. Eventually, he asks, “How long have I been out?”

“A few days. You woke up a few times yesterday, but you were incoherent,” Bruce says.

Dick wracks his brain, trying to pull up some inaccessible memory.

“I’m sorry that this happened, Dick.”

Dick squeezes Bruce’s hand. “Not your fault.”

“Hnn.”

“What? Are you seriously guilty that you didn’t taste all of my food first or something? ‘Cause that’s nuts, B.”

Bruce says, “You are my child. I am allowed to feel guilty when I fail to protect you.”

“You didn’t fail,” Dick interjects. “I’m okay—really.”

Bruce’s face is still pinched and concerned, and he’s looking at Dick like he might fall apart. Dick leans toward him and stretches his arms out, and Bruce quickly pulls him into a tight hug.

“I’m not going anywhere, Bruce,” Dick promises. And even to himself, it doesn’t sound like a reassurance most nine-year-olds should be giving. But it fits with his new life, he supposes. “I’m okay.”

Bruce tucks Dick’s head under his chin, says, “I was . . . I’m glad that you’re alright.”

Dick nods into Bruce’s chest and lets himself be held for another moment. It’s not the hug from his mom that he woke up wanting, but it’s close. It makes him feel safe and reminds him of home, and maybe that’s all Dick needs.

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #nightwing #batman #batfamily #tw: seizure #elizabeth writes

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rwprincess · 3 years

Text

Midnight Sun'd Prologue (Brian Johnson x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 10.5K (She like...20 pages long. Sorry).

Synopsis: My movie/Canon Prologue, but from Brian’s POV. That’s right, I’m Midnight Sun-ing this b*tch.

CW: Underage marijuana smoking, suicidal ideation, self-deprecating thoughts/self-doubt, low self-esteem, swearing, child abuse, parents being terrible, sexuality (since this is based on the movie, nothing is really outside the scope of the movie in terms of content).

Saturday, March 24th, 1984

Shermer High School, Shermer Illinois

Brian knew why he was here. In fact, he thanked his lucky stars that Saturday school, or detention, rather, had been his punishment. If this hadn’t been an extremely out-of-character first offense for him, he surely would have been suspended, or even expelled. His family had made their disappointment clear, especially when his mother told him to find a way to study and make amends today, even if he was asked to just sit in a room with strangers and reflect on what he did. When he arrived in the library, he was surprised to see Claire Standish already sitting there. She, of course, did not look up or make eye contact with him, but he chose to sit at the table behind her nonetheless. Before he could gather the courage to ask her what a popular, polished girl like herself could possibly be doing here, another two figures approached the doorway. Andrew Clark’s large, stocky frame loomed there for a moment before excitedly spying Claire. Again, no attempt was made to include Brian; he was practically invisible at this school, which was a big part of his underlying problems and self esteem here at Shermer High. It wasn’t so much that Brian wanted or needed popular people like Claire or Andrew to notice him. He didn’t really look up to them or desire their attention. It was just that, sometimes, it felt like everyone looked through him, as though he wasn’t even there. Adults acknowledged him, sure. He was polite and an overachiever, the perfect student. But his peers didn’t take much stock in him. He had a few loyal, true friends, but rarely did anyone outside of his particular interest groups reach out to him.

As Brian settled into a seat behind Claire, he took note of the second figure who had entered, the one who came in shortly after Andrew. It was her. Brian had to restrain himself from gawking when she entered the library, as she was one of the absolute last people he could ever picture earning a detention. Brian knew her from his English class last year; he had been stunned by her beauty the moment she entered the room that first day of high school and felt the same nervous, heart-pounding sensation he felt now, seeing her enter the library. He lamentably had zero classes with her this year, but he would see her in the hallways sometimes and that old familiar feeling would come rushing back to him, reminding him of the crush he had on her all last year. Back then, he had sat behind her, across the room and would catch himself staring at her or admiring her answers and volunteered opinions. His strong suit was in the more concrete subjects: science, math, that sort of thing. So the insightful analyses she would give always impressed him, and through them he got the sense that she was smart but also kind. This was precisely why he was shocked to see her here now, having earned the same consequence he had for bringing a weapon into school. But he couldn’t imagine her doing anything like that, anything to warrant this. He not-so-discreetly watched her as she hurried across the room and took a seat in the front row opposite to him. She, like Claire and Andrew, had not made eye contact or acknowledged him. Her seeing right through him hurt more, though.

Brian had sat down, but had not quite unpacked as he was still reeling from the revelation of Y/N being in the same detention as him, and that meant he would be in the same room as her for nine hours. He hadn’t even noticed John Bender stalk into the library, surveying the landscape that he was clearly king of. That is, until Bender stopped in front of him and snapped his fingers to get his attention and indicated for him to move out of his seat. Even if Brian weren’t the type to try to accommodate someone, a people pleaser, he would have followed John Bender’s instructions. Everyone in school knew of his reputation, and while some things were probably a lie (like throwing flaming toilet paper over Mrs. Applebaum’s house), some were definitely true, including his penchant for getting into fights. Brian had never had to fight someone before and he was pretty sure he lacked the capability to do so. Simply put: he would get his ass kicked. So he got up immediately and moved to the next seat over...right behind Y/N. He noticed that she stiffened, sat up straighter, as he slid into the seat behind her. So she had noticed his existence. But from her body language, he assumed that she didn’t particularly enjoy his presence. ‘Great. Perfect way to start this whole shitty day,’ he thought. At one point, Brian would have fancied himself an optimist, but lately that attitude was all but gone...not that his current situation helped much.

He also noticed the girl with black clothes, heavy makeup, and messy hair quickly walk along the outside of the tables and sit behind him, facing away from not only himself, but the entire group. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, ‘Should be an interesting time,’ he thought while taking stock of her, Bender, the populars, and...Y/N. It still puzzled him that she could be here. Bender made total sense. Everyone knew that he practically lived here in detention. Based on how she looked and seemed to make herself comfortable, Brian guessed that the girl behind him also was a regular here. While he didn’t exactly expect Claire or Andy to be here, he wasn’t hugely shocked by it. Claire probably skipped school or was rude to a teacher or something and Andrew was an asshole anyway. He fit into the jock stereotype pretty well, all brawn and no brains, picking on those that he saw as weaker than him. Maybe that’s why he was here.

Vice Principal Vernon walked haughtily in, looking down on each and every one of them; a lord surveying his fiefdom. Brian’s posture stiffened as he both tried to show respect and unconsciously showed his fear of the man. The last conversation with him had also involved his parents and that was abhorrent, a total disaster. The recollection of the event made him nauseous. Right after he spoke, Claire raised her hand, “Excuse me sir, I think there’s been a mistake. I know it’s detention, but, um...I don’t think I belong in here.” Internally, Brian rolled his eyes. He didn’t really know Claire (he suspected that no one really truly did), but he had always been under the impression that she was full of herself. All of the popular clique seemed to be that way, just full of arrogance. And here she was announcing how she was better than all of them in front of them. Vernon completely ignored her statement and told them it was 7:06, on the dot. Brian quickly looked down at his watch and aligned it to Vernon’s time. He was very particular about organization and precision.

As Vernon started his speech about rules, Brian tried to shift slightly over, get comfortable. But Vernon looked right into him and Brian could swear he saw into the depths of his soul as he said, “You will not move from these seats,” and pointed right at him. He froze like a deer in the headlights and quickly moved back. Brian had almost always blindly followed authority and now was definitely not the time to change that. Vernon continued and Brian only half-listened, looking around to gauge how the rest of the group was reacting, until he heard him say, “Good. So, maybe you’ll decide whether or not you care to return-” He saw this as the perfect time to redeem himself and started to stand up, raising his hand.

“Um, you know, I can answer that right now, sir. And that would be a no for me-”

“Sit down, Johnson.”

“Thank you, sir.” Brian sat back down, gulping. His embarrassment was only made worse noticing that Y/N had turned around to look at him when he started speaking. He wasn’t so invisible now, just his luck.

*~~~~*

There was little to no surprise that Bender antagonized the group. His main targets seemed to be Claire and Andrew, but he was making snide or crude remarks to everyone, and this made Brian very uneasy. He hated conflict and confrontation, which was probably why he had brought a flare gun to school rather than talk to his Shop teacher about replacing his failing grade or talk to his parents about how much he was truly struggling. He tried to take his mom’s advice about just doing work. He tried to convince the others to just write their assigned essays and not end up in a fight, but it didn’t work. He reasoned that he could at least do the right thing, but he couldn’t help but keep getting drawn into their conversations. It was almost like watching a trashy soap opera...or a staged wrestling match. “Go to hell!” Claire screamed at Bender, and Brian looked nervously to the door. Vernon surely heard that and would come storming back in, right?

But he didn’t, so Andy continued their conversation and got in a new dig at Bender, “You know, Bender, you don’t even count. If you disappeared forever it wouldn’t make any difference. You may as well not even exist anymore.” Brian gulped, thinking about his recent and frequent thoughts about how he himself ‘may as well not even exist anymore.’ He was doing...okay since the day he had had a semi-plan to take his own life, but the feelings didn’t just stop. He was still failing Shop, of all classes. He was still a disappointment and burden to his parents. He was still invisible at school, to Y/N. None of that went away when Mr. Ryan found the gun in his locker. Bender turned Andrew’s comment around and said he’d go out and join some clubs.

Now, Brian saw his opportunity to be less invisible, maybe. “I’m in a math club!” He blurted out. No dice. Bender and Claire just continued bickering, ignoring him completely. But he couldn’t help it when he stated “I’m in the Physics Club, too,” in their direction just hoping, praying that someone would acknowledge him. He hadn’t counted on that person being Y/N, though. She’d turned slightly towards him and his blue eyes flickered to hers and he froze. Having been lost in the argument between the others, he had almost forgotten that she was there. She gave him a gentle smile and a nod that made him gulp. He’d suddenly failed to remember how to breathe, how to function and his mind was only filled with a channel of ‘Oh shit. She’s looking at me.’

But then she added, “I’m in the Drama Club.” Of course, he knew that, but it was still nice for her, of all people, to be making conversation with him. He was immediately forced to snap out of it, though, when Bender addressed him.

“Excuse me a sec. What are you babbling about?” While Brian hated the look John gave him (it was much too similar to his parents’ frustrated looks when he was clearly ‘bothering’ them with something), Brian felt compelled to answer. He had wanted to be noticed, to be involved in the conversation, right?

“Well, what I’d said was, I’m in the Math Club, the Latin Club, uh, and the Physics Clu-Physics Club,” he stumbled through his words nervously. He felt regret instantly as Bender turned it around as a slight on Claire, and also managed to insult him by calling him a dork in the process. Still, he yearned for his attention and approval, so he eagerly answered John’s follow up questions. He just wanted to get along with everyone and have them accept him, and even though John was just using his input as ammunition against Claire, he liked that he was at least being included.

*~~~~*

It was a long, dragging morning. It was only around 10AM and topics of conversation seemed to already run out. Everyone was now more or less keeping to themselves. At first, Brian thought about writing his essay, as he said he planned to, but why bother? There were still many hours to fill, and how was he possibly supposed to answer the prompt of Who Am I? He truly did not know. He’d actually been pondering that a lot lately. All of his life he was praised for his smarts, but the ‘real world’ was showing him that that didn’t mean jack shit. Sure, he could understand difficult concepts and dissect complex equations, but that meant nothing if he couldn’t apply it. He thought he was taking the easy way out with Shop. It was meant to be a class he didn’t have to worry about; a stress-free A to keep his GPA up while juggling various clubs and volunteer opportunities to put on his college applications next year. But it ended up being a total nightmare. He was absolutely terrible at it, and he had never failed at anything before. Now the burn-outs and underachievers had the upper hand and were able to make their projects work and look good and he had...nothing. He failed so miserably that it tanked his self-esteem and now he was stuck in an identity crisis. It was much too early on a Saturday to confront those demons, so instead he chose to sit and daydream. And subconsciously, as with many teenage boys, his attention fell to girls. As much as he thought Claire was self-centered and spoiled, he had to admit that she was attractive. She carefully curated herself to be so. She had perfect, beautiful red hair that was never out of place, flawless makeup, perfectly fitting chic clothes...and she was staring into space licking and biting her lip, which had him completely flustered. Y/N only added to it by adjusting and stretching in her seat. Her beauty was more effortless than Claire’s, or at least seemed less...intentional. She did not have the designer clothes and her hair was more natural than trendy but alluring in her own right, and the way she was pushing her chest out was not helping. He could feel the shift and tightness in his khakis and tried to nonchalantly clear his throat, but now Y/N was turned three-quarters around and could clearly see him, so he tried to sneak his hat into his lap and acted like nothing was going on by setting his head on the desk. ‘Oh shit. Oh fuck.’ were the chorus of his thoughts as he could see her quickly turn back around and face forward. ‘I’m sure she thinks I’m a creep now. Great going, Johnson,’ he chastised himself.

Vernon was almost a welcome sight when he strode into the library at 10:20 to allow them to use the “lavatory.” Brian almost let out a sigh of relief. Almost. When they returned to the library and it was clear that Vernon wouldn’t return for a while, Bender started ripping up a book and when he threw it at Brian, the latter took that as his cue to walk away. He spotted Y/N looking through the catalogue of books and approached her. “Hey.” He nodded in her direction, trying to play it cool and seem neutral. ‘Smooth. Great opening,’ he thought. But to his surprise, she actually said ‘Hi’ back and smiled. He had no idea what to talk about and didn’t really think this through, but the black-clad girl let out a startling, “HA!” that made them both jump.

Brain looked back to the others and heard Andrew sarcastically say, “Oh, you’re breaking my heart,” to Claire.

“Sporto?” Bender asked, “Do you get along with your parents?” Brian started to look between the two of them nervously.

“Well, if I say yes I’m an idiot right?” Andrew responded. Bender leapt over the ramp’s banister and started at the other boy.

“You’re an idiot anyway. But if you say you get along with your parents, then you’re a liar too.” Not only did Brian not like being involved in confrontation, he also hated being witness to it. As Andrew followed Bender, he felt compelled to go break it up, put a stop to this.

“You want me to turn it up?” Bender asked, flipping off Andrew as Brian stepped between them, placing a hand on one of each of their shoulders. They smacked his hands away, almost in sync and he withdrew, but he knew words could be just as powerful as actions.

“I, I don’t like my parents either. I don’t know. Their idea of parental compassion is just...whacko.” Brian confessed.

“Dork? You are a parent’s wet dream, okay?” Bender replied, clapping him on his shoulder. It was a friendly enough gesture, but it actually dealt a devastating blow. Brian knew he was a disappointment to his parents. He was being open and honest with the group and was shut down immediately anyway. “...face it, you're a neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie. What would you be out doing if you weren’t making yourself a better citizen?” Another hit. This one made Brian sink against one of the tables. He hung his head and didn’t even notice Y/N approach him until she softly placed her hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?” She offered, gazing into his eyes. He was terrified that she would be able to read him and to see the truth, to see the sad and scared kid he truly was inside. Instead, he stiffened up and sat rigidly, clearing his throat of emotion.

“Yeah, thanks.” He also tried his best to ignore that she was touching him. If he weren’t in detention being told he was the epitome of geek by John Bender, he’d have sworn this were a dream. Bender now moved his disdain to Claire, asking if she were a virgin. Y/N shifted uncomfortably away from Brian and crossed her arms over her chest, but still stood next to him, watching the same drama unfold. Bender and Andrew soon stood in front of them, fully in a heated argument and Bender took a swing. Brian didn’t think twice and reflexively shot his arm up to shield Y/N. Sure, his crush on her might be stupid or silly, but he was not about to let her get caught in this crossfire and get hurt. He watched as Andrew wrestled Bender to the floor and Bender said, “I don’t want to get into this with you, man...cuz I’d kill you.” Andrew let him up and they seemed to separate and cool down, so Brian finally moved his arm back down, assuming the danger towards Y/N was gone but he was on-guard still, ready to move again if he needed to. “It’s real simple. I’d kill you and then your fucking parents would sue me and it would be a big mess, and I don’t care about you enough to bother.” For some reason, this hit Brian hard and he had to look away, look down to escape. But then he heard a click and his head shot up. Bender had pulled out a switchblade. His eyes went wide and he looked cautiously at Y/N who looked just as shocked. They all relaxed a little when he stabbed it into a chair instead of Andrew’s flesh, but immediately panicked again when the door audibly unlatched and opened. They scrambled to get to their seats, Bender quickly striding to the front and sitting far away from Andy so as not to implicate himself. But that meant that he had stolen Y/N’s seat. On her original route to it, she diverted and sat quickly and silently next to Brian. He swallowed hard in response.

Instead of Vernon, Carl the janitor walked in. They collectively sighed with relief and he addressed Brian. “Brian, how ya doin’?” Brian quickly averted his eyes, both embarrassed to be seen here by Carl (he stayed late in many clubs and had built up a good rapport with the man and didn’t need him thinking less of him for being in detention) and by being seen as associated with him by his peers. Carl was a great guy, really funny and nice; accommodated every need each one of his clubs had...but Brian was still a teenager and image was everything and being thought of as ‘dweeb who is friends with the janitor’ was not how he wanted to be seen.

“Your dad work here?” Bender inquired, smirking deviously. Brian just shook his head in response and didn’t answer Carl, either. “Carl, can I ask you a question? How does one become a janitor?” Bender continued.

“You want to become a janitor?” Carl asked, knowing that Bender didn’t really want to know.

“No, I just want to know how one becomes one. Andrew here is very interested in pursuing a career in the custodial arts.” Bender glanced over at Andrew and smirked again, pleased with his implied put-down.

“Oh really? You guys think I’m some untouchable peasant, serf, peon? Maybe so. But following a broom around after shitheads like you for the last eight years, I’ve learned a couple of things.” Carl looked towards Brian and Y/N, “I look through your letters.” Brian thought he saw her stiffen and freeze, just a little bit, as if Carl were addressing her. She suddenly shifted away from Brian and he wasn’t sure what to make of that. “...I am the eyes and the ears of this institution, my friend.” Carl stopped and smiled, “By the way. That clock is twenty minutes fast.” Brian looked at it and then his watch, noting that he was right. He wasn’t sure if he should adjust his wrist piece or not; to go with the time on the wall or the time Vernon was keeping. But he couldn’t be bothered with the choice when Bender stood up and faced his table. He was afraid of what he might do or say to them, but he simply nodded towards Y/N’s seat, indicating that she could have it back.

“I’m good for now,” she said, surprising Brian. He assumed she would have moved back, a moment ago she moved away from him, but now she was looking at him out of the corner of her eye before glancing back up at John, who was raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “Thanks for not dicking with my stuff though,” she said.

“Oh, shit.” Bender said “Do you think I should steal something or has the moment passed?” The tension seemed to drop and they all smiled as he went back to his seat, but he turned his attention back their way. “So, you’ve been pretty quiet, what’s your name?” Brian had a bad habit of blurting out. He liked answering questions as it was, showing his knowledge. A lot of the time, it didn’t matter if he was being asked or not. So, without thinking, he responded to Bender’s question and told him Y/N’s name. It was a reflex, but one he instantly regretted, feeling like he just shot himself in the foot. Bender gave him a look and he steeled himself for his worst, for the mockery sure to come, but instead he just looked at her and followed up with “Is that true? Is that your name?”

She didn’t acknowledge his weirdness either. She simply nodded and told John, “Yeah, (Y/N). Or, I guess you could call me (Y/N/N) if you want,” and Brian let out a quiet shaky exhale in relief. That could have been...disastrous. After a moment, while Bender was otherwise occupied, she turned to him and said, “Thank you, for earlier. I mean, blocking me when those two were getting into it.” He felt his heart race; he wasn’t sure she had even noticed that earlier, even though he wasn’t exactly subtle.

“N-no problem.” He responded, trying to restrain the smile creeping up onto his face. He wanted to play it cool, like it was no big deal, like that’s just what manly men such as himself do: put themselves in harm’s way for others.

Vernon came in to dismiss them for lunch much too early for his liking. He didn’t really have much of a chance to talk to Y/N while she was sitting next to him, and as soon as they were allowed to mill about like the caged animals they currently were, the remaining members of their detention gravitated towards Bender near the center of the library. Brian was slightly disappointed when she wandered off into the stacks as Bender looked through books and Claire continued her daydreaming. Not really sure what to do with himself, Brian folded his long legs over one of the ramp railings and sat atop it, hunched over. He looked up when Bender called out, “Hey, Peachy!” There were a few moments of silence before Y/N looked back over in their direction and Brian froze, immediately disliking Bender addressing her as such and worrying what uncouth thing he might say to her. But he just asked her what she could be in detention for, because she didn’t seem the type, which Brian wholeheartedly agreed with. He waited intently for the answer, as every interaction he had with her (or every observation, rather), she seemed so...sweet.

“Oh. Well, you know how in Biology they dissect like, frogs and shit every year?” She looked a little defeated and a blush crept up her cheeks as she continued, “I---sort of stole and freed the frogs.” Brian couldn’t help but laugh. That seemed like something you shouldn’t get detention for, anyway, but it was definitely on-par with the personality he knew her for. He felt relieved that the reason aligned with how he thought of her. She was in here for something nice, and debatably, the right thing. His heart melted a little when she told Bender that she had researched enough to let the frogs go responsibly; that she would have adopted them if they wouldn’t have made it on their own and he couldn’t help but smile in her direction. Bender, of course, moved on quickly, scanning one of the books in his stack to find new material to talk about, to bother the girls with, but Brian’s gaze was still fixated on Y/N. She was running her fingers along spines of books, seemingly in her own world. He felt like maybe it was fated that they were both here, like he was getting a second chance. He still hadn’t really conjured up the courage to talk to her yet, but they were only half-way through their day; there was still time.

“Claire? Y/N? You wanna see a picture of a guy with elephantitis of the nuts?” Bender asked, “Pretty tasty. How do you think he rides a bike? Oh Claire, would you ever consider dating a guy like this?”

“Wait,” Y/N’s eyes lit up and she looked their way again. “Elephantiasis? Like the movie The Elephant Man? Great movie! Really sad though.” Brian grinned at the way she scrunched her eyebrows together in remembering the emotion from the movie. He had seen it, too. It was really good...and touching. Maybe that could be his ice-breaker. Movies were normal things that normal teenagers talked about, right? He didn’t really notice that Bender and Claire were still conversing until it implicated him, though.

“Oh! Watch what you say. Brian here is a cherry.” Brian looked at him, startled.

“A cherry?” He asked, indignantly, cheeks flaring up with a red hue. “I am not a cherry.” He didn’t need Bender calling him out like this, embarrassing him. He didn’t need the obvious association that the nerd was a virgin. Especially in front of beautiful girls, particularly Y/N. She didn’t need to know that he was an inexperienced loser.

“When have you ever gotten laid?” Bender asked, doubtfully

“I’ve laid lots of times.”

“Name ONE.” Bender said, sarcastically, hoping to catch him in a trap.

“She lives in Canada. Met her at Niagara Falls; You wouldn’t know her.” Brian said, prepared with this answer from previous conversations about this topic. It wasn’t the first time he’d been involved in a conversation about virginity that he couldn’t be entirely honest about, nor was it the first time he had been mocked for being a virgin or doubted about the non-existent relations that he didn’t have. Even though part of his brain felt like it was glaringly obvious to the outside world and must have been stamped on his forehead that girls did not typically talk to him, nor had he even kissed a girl before, but he still lied about it anyway. He knew he didn’t precisely have an ‘image’ to protect, but he didn’t want to seem like a total lost cause or dweeby stereotype.

Bender, however, wasn’t having it. “You ever lay anyone around here?” He scoffed and Brian panicked. He had noticed that Y/N had turned back to the aisle of books and was praying she wasn’t listening, and Claire didn’t seem to be paying attention, so he tried to gesture to Bender to keep it down, to let him off the hook before either girl noticed him or this conversation. Bender immediately twisted it around and attacked him with it, though. Brian felt his heart being squeezed and felt overwhelmed, instantly, as Bender said, “Oh. You and Claire did it.”

“Oh, uh I-Let’s just drop it, okay? We’ll talk about it later,” Brian attempted to get out of it again, praying that John would have one ounce of mercy on him. However, Brian was never really very lucky.

“Well, Brian is trying to tell me that in addition to the number of girls in the Niagara Falls area, that presently you and he are riding the hobby horse.” Brian’s eyes slammed shut in embarrassment.

“You little pig,” Claire growled at him and his eyes shot back open wide. He scrambled to defend himself.

“No! I’m not! John said I was a cherry and I said I wasn’t. That’s it. That’s all I said.”

“Well then what were you motioning to Claire for?” Bender followed up, not giving Brian any wiggle room.

“You know, I don’t appreciate this very much, Brian.” Claire sounded more disappointed and hurt than anything, which made Brian feel like a slug, instantly. He didn’t mean to implicate her or to bring her down. He was just trying to hide his embarrassment from John and the girls.

“He is lying!” Brian tried one last attempt to deflect.

“Oh, you weren’t motioning to Claire?”

“You know he’s lying, right?”

“Were you, or were you not motioning to Claire?” Brian hated this. He’d been stuffed in lockers before and yearned for that over the torture Bender was inflicting now. He couldn’t save face; either he was a disgusting creep saying he had had sex with Claire when he didn’t, or he’d have to tell them the truth and feel humiliated at telling everyone he was a virgin. He grit his teeth and chose to go with the latter.

“Yeah, but it was only- it was only because I didn’t want her to know I was a virgin, okay?” They looked almost...shocked by his response, which he wasn’t expecting. He thought it would be a ‘Well, duh, you’re a virgin, Johnson! Who would want to touch you?’ But Claire and Y/N looked surprised. “Excuse me for being a virgin, I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you want me to know you were a virgin?” Claire asked honestly, like it was no big deal. If she only knew...

“Because it’s personal business. It’s my personal, private business.”

“Well, Brian, it doesn’t sound like you’re doing any business,” Bender snuck in another jab and Brian was brought down to what he knew all along, that they were just going to laugh at him.

“I think it’s okay for a guy to be a virgin.” Claire’s unexpected response gave him instant relief. She was taking his side and Bender had no more ammo. Brian perked up even more when Y/N agreed with her. It wasn’t an embarrassing secret for him now because they didn’t mind. They almost seemed to admire him for it. The thought caused his lips to twitch and he hid his smile by leaning his head against his knee.

*~~~~*

During lunch, Bender didn’t have any food, so his appetite turned to targeting the rest of the detainees again. He started in on Claire for a bit, but then came over to taunt Brian. It seemed like it could be friendly, at first, as John just examined his lunch. But as he drew out each item, his tone became more and more sarcastic. “Here’s my impression of life at Big Bri’s house.” Bender went on to mock him, painting his life like it was some episode of Leave It To Beaver where the family would all hug it out at the end. Brian’s throat became dry and he could feel eyes on both Bender and himself, trying to judge his reactions to John’s farce. He hated being such an easy target. He hadn’t done anything towards John personally, but he was still constantly in the hot seat because John could get away with it and the others would laugh and enjoy it. At least Andy fought back...even Claire did. And Bender didn’t even really bother to mess with Allison. She had an aura of ‘don’t fuck with me,’ and he didn’t even touch her as a subject, even though she was just as odd and out of place as Brian. Not to mention, he was wrong. It wasn’t all peachy-keen happy endings at Brian’s house. If it were, Brian wouldn’t be here today.

Still, it was hard not to be drawn in by John, and he watched his next dramatic retelling of his own home life in stunned horror. John’s dad called him terrible names in this act and hit him. “Is that for real?” Brian asked, brows furrowed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe John, it was just that...well, the situation sucked and he needed to be told it wasn’t true. Like a kid hearing that a ghost story was made up and there was nothing to fear. But he knew by John’s pained expression that it was, even before he spoke.

“Wanna come over some time?” Bender asked him and he flinched away. Andrew didn’t believe him though, and questioned it so John revealed to them all his very real cigar burn scar on his arm, claiming he got it from spilling paint in the garage. The group collectively flinched and no one moved for a few moments while Bender said, “I don’t need to sit with you fuckin’ dildos anymore,” and raged through the library.

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Claire admonished Andrew.

“How would I know? I mean he lies about everything anyway.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Y/N snapped at him and looked back towards Bender as though she wanted to follow him. Brian tried to will her silently not to; he didn’t really trust that Bender would control his emotions and she might get hurt. He felt relieved when she turned around, but then his heart began pounding once more as she gathered her lunch into the sack and stood up. ‘No, don’t do it, Y/N.’ He stared at her, but she didn’t seem to notice as she cautiously walked past and crept up the library stairs to where Bender was and sat next to him. Brian felt a little calmed when Bender didn’t lash out; he just rolled his eyes but stayed rooted to the spot. Meanwhile, the rest of the group at their lunch in silence.

*~~~~*

Brian felt guilty for leaving Bender behind, for allowing him to sacrifice himself for the group. Hell, they all did. Especially when Vernon started shoving him around and saying he was going to be in jail. Brian couldn’t help but wonder if he could become like John. It’s not like he was born into that life. But he had it tough at home, struggled at school, and had problems with authority (particularly when they lied). Brian could see some parallels. He, too, was unhappy at home. While his parents didn’t beat him like John’s did him, or berate him to the same degree, he couldn’t help but feel like a disappointment. And he felt like he was just slipping. Now he had broken school rules, brought a gun to school, watched as others destroyed school property, and was gaining a healthy distrust of authority by seeing how Vernon acted today. He’d even corrected him once, when counting Bender’s detentions, not that the truth seemed to matter to Vernon anyway. What if he continued down this path? What if things just kept getting worse at home? Would it really be that bad to be like Bender? Despite being a total jerkwad, he had the charisma to draw people in. He’d even had Y/N eat lunch with him! It just didn’t seem like the deal was all bad when he looked at it that way. ‘What’s next? Are you going to take up smoking?’ His brain scolded him, even though he had completely forgotten that he had drugs stashed in his pants right now...until Bender fell through the ceiling and asked for them back. He dug them uncomfortably out of his underwear and handed the bag over. Bender took off to smoke in the library and Brian realized he had a choice to make. Boy, was he tempted. ‘What’s one more rule broken today?’ He felt more emboldened when Claire stood up and followed John. Andrew tried to talk him out of it, shaking his head. Brian drummed his hands on the desk. He wasn’t sure he’d have another opportunity. Most of his friends and acquaintances didn’t do drugs...to his knowledge, anyway. He thought momentarily about his cousin Kendall, and how he started smoking pot and didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere. ‘You already don’t feel like you belong anywhere,’ His mind reminded him, and with that, the decision was made; what did he have to lose? So he slunk off to join Bender and Claire.

It was...definitely a different experience. Brian didn’t care for the way his thoughts seemed so disjointed, that he couldn’t keep one train of thought going. For someone who was known for his intelligence and felt like his brain was his one good quality, it was a little scary to have that slip away. But, there was a sort of numbness that came with the drug that made him worry less about that. He felt less worried and anxious in general, actually. His focus was being pulled in too many directions to wonder what his parents would think or if he was saying the right thing, or if this could even be a mistake. He felt relaxed and oddly open. He was even making Bender and Claire laugh, which he hadn’t expected. It was like there was a new persona underneath that was unlocked. He didn’t know what he was doing, but it wasn’t the worst thing ever. He was, however, surprised by how long the effects lasted. It was a little more than an hour later and the whole group was sitting in a circle (Y/N and Allison never seemed to have joined them in the marijuana. Not that he had noticed, anyway) and Allison was telling the group that she was a nymphomaniac, which was exciting. Particularly to someone with zero experience, to hear someone claim she’d done ‘almost everything’ was utterly fascinating. However, his head was still swimming and he seemed to have a lack of filter between his brain and his mouth. He couldn’t catch his words fast enough, which was often a problem for him sober, but now it wasn’t just supplying corrections or information, the more cruel thoughts slipped through, too.

“Obviously she’s crazy if she’s screwing her shrink,” he added to the group without even thinking. Y/N was sitting to his right and promptly hit him on the arm with the back of her hand.

“Brian!” She hissed and gave him a glare. ‘Oh shit. Did I say that out loud?’ He thought, looking at her with wide-eyed fear. The realization sobered him up pretty quickly and he was much more in control of his thoughts and words after that. Despite the weed taking away most of his worries, he still cared how she perceived him. From then on, he was more focused on the conversations in front of him and how he added to them, but it was harder to control his emotions when Andrew began telling them about why he was here today.

“You guys know what I did to get in here today? I taped Larry Lester’s buns together.” Andy said, with a hint of a smile. ‘How can he just smirk like that? He has to know it was a shitty thing to do and that he hurt Larry.’ Brian thought. He knew Larry had been attacked this week by one of the sports, but he didn’t know who. Larry didn’t even know the kid’s name, had never talked to him, but still got jumped anyway. An experience that Brian was all too familiar with.

“That was you?” Brian asked, somewhat surprised, but started to get angry.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, I know him.” He said quietly, trying not to let the anger bubble past the surface.

He had to bite his tongue when Andy made Larry into a joke, “Then you know how hairy he is right?” Bender and Claire chuckled at his joke, at him bullying one of Brian’s friends. ‘I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything different,’ Brian thought dejectedly. But he was hoping that they were all better people than...this. The realization that they weren’t better than that, coupled with Andrew expressing his feelings about his father got Brian thinking. “I...hate him. He’s like this mindless machine that I can’t even relate to anymore.” Brian felt so disconnected from his parents, too, even though the rest of the group thought they lived in a fairytale. He was their pride and joy once, but it felt like ever since he started high school, he just wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t a good enough student, he didn’t do his chores right, he wasn’t setting himself up for college correctly, he wasn’t a good role model or brother to his sister...it all just added up and weighed on him immensely. He covered his face with one of his hands to hide his emotion and expression from the group. He didn’t even react when Andrew started screaming what his father had told him, but when everything settled down, he took the chance to speak.

“That’s like me, you know, with my grades. Like, when I step outside myself. A-and I look in on myself...and-and I see me, I don’t like what I see,” it was a difficult thing to admit but after what Allison and Andrew shared, he felt like maybe this could be the space to do so, too.

“What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you like yourself?” Claire asked. He knew it was meant to be nice, encouraging even, but it just made him feel worse. This beautiful, popular, and rich girl asking someone why they weren’t happy with themselves? Like she could have any sort of clue. No wonder it baffled her; she had everything. But he could also see Y/N nodding vigorously, agreeing with Claire. He didn’t want to put her on the same plane as Claire, he felt like she would be above that. But she clearly didn’t understand the way he felt, either. That just made him feel more alone.

“It’s stupid, but,” Brian said, “because I’m failing shop. We had this assignment to make this, uh, ceramic elephant. Anyways we were supposed to-it was, it was a lamp. When you pulled the trunk, the light was supposed to go on. But my light didn’t go on. I got an F on it. I’ve never got an F in my life. When I signed up, y’know, for the course, I thought I was playing it smart. I was, uh, ‘I’ll take Shop, it’s an easy way to maintain my grade point average.’”

“Why’d you think it would be easy?” Bender chimed in, not making eye contact. Brian had been lost in his own thoughts and his story and not looking at the group either, really. He had wanted to be honest, but he was also embarrassed. Honesty would have been hard to maintain if he was looking at them and seeing their judgments in real time.

“Have you seen some of the dopes that take Shop?” Brian asked, not realizing it would strike a nerve.

“I take Shop.” Bender responded, now turning his eyes to him, “You must be a fucking idiot.”

“I’m a fucking idiot because I can’t make a lamp?” Brian snapped defensively. He should have known it would be a mistake to put himself on the line like this, to open himself up to their judgement. He knew Bender was lashing out because he was insulted, but that didn’t make his jibes hurt any less.

“No, you’re a genius because you can’t make a lamp.” Bender shot back, sarcastically.

“What do you know about Trigonometry?” Brian fought back.

“I could care less about Trigonometry.”

“Bender, there’s no engineering without trigonometry.”

“Without lamps, there’d be no light.” Bender replied grumpily, grasping at straws for a fair comparison.

“Okay, so neither one of you is any better than the other one,” Claire jumped in. Before either of them responded, Allison added her own odd addition.

“I can write with my toes!” Both Bender and Brian looked at her incredulously, but she did calm the two of them down and add levity to the moment.

“I can make spaghetti!” Brian said cheerfully after a moment. Y/N smiled at him and his heart fluttered. He returned the smile and for a moment, forgot all about his blunder. Maybe that smile had given him the courage to participate again, to be open and vulnerable. Claire and Bender began fighting again, which wasn’t a surprise, but it opened a door for Brian to ask what had been weighing on his mind since their circle began. He felt like they had all bonded. They had told each other some of their deepest secrets and biggest pains, but did that really make them friends? “I know it’s kind of a weird time, but you know, I was just wondering...what’s going to happen to us on Monday? I mean, I consider you guys my friends,” he continued, looking around the circle, “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“No,” Andy reassured him. So, he wasn’t imagining it, they felt like friends, too.

“So on Monday, what happens?”

“Are we still friends, you mean? If we’re friends now?” Claire asked.

“Yeah.”

“You want the truth?” Claire couldn’t meet his eye, and Brian knew from the question she posed, he really didn’t want the truth. He knew what was coming, but he continued anyway.

“Yeah, I want the truth.”

“I don’t think so.” Claire responded and he somehow still wasn’t prepared for the blow. It still hit him hard, causing a squeezing pain in his chest and he looked away, clenching his jaw to hold the tears back that were welling in his eyes.

“With all of us,” Allison asked, “or just John?”

“With all of you,” Claire confirmed, looking away from the group.

“That’s a real nice attitude, Claire,” Andrew said gruffly.

“Oh, be honest, Andy,” Claire groaned, “If Brian came up to you in the hall on Monday, what would you do? Picture it, you’re with all the sports.” Brian glanced up at his name and looked at Andy hopefully. In his heart, he knew Claire was probably right, but he wanted to believe that Andrew was really his friend, that they all were. “You know exactly what you’d do. You’d say hi to him and then you’d laugh and cut him all up so your friends wouldn’t think you actually like him.”

“No way.” Andy denied, and that gave Brian a glimmer of hope, one he so desperately wanted to believe.

“What if I came up to you?” Allison asked.

“Same exact thing.”

“You are a bitch!” Bender yelled at Claire.

“Why?! Because I’m telling the truth? That makes me a bitch?”

“No. Cuz you know how shitty that is to do to someone and you don’t have the balls to stand up to your friends and tell them you’re gonna like who you wanna like…” Bender continued berating Claire, but Brian now started to fail to hold back the tears that had been threatening so long to fall. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone in the group and tried to quickly wipe the tear away, hoping no one was paying attention to him; that they couldn’t see how they had impacted him. But he still felt eyes on him, particularly when he wiped the next tear away. He let Claire and Bender’s argument surround him. They called each other out, that neither would associate with him or Allison, that their image was too important to protect to reach out. It was a story that Brian had lived all of his life. ‘How could I think that one day would change everything?’ He thought, pitifully.

“So I assume Allison, Y/N, and I are better people than you? Us weirdos?” Brian interjected when Claire and Bender were silently fuming from their spat. “You, would you do that to me?” He asked Allison.

“I don’t have any friends,” she replied, which made Brian smile a little, even though he rolled his eyes some.

“Okay, but if you did?” He let out a light chuckle, urging her to answer.

“No. I don’t think the kind of friends that I’d have would mind,” Allison replied and Brian nodded, then steeled himself to turn to Y/N and ask the same question. He saw her quickly swipe at her face with her sleeves and realized, suddenly, that she had been crying too. He wasn’t sure why; she had been very quiet through this whole exchange, but maybe that was because it hit home hard for her, too. He felt a painful pang in his chest, both from seeing her tears and from fearing the possibility of her answer. He had spent the day hoping that this was a second chance, that he could get to know her. This was a bold move and would tell him if there was even a chance or not; and he feared the ‘not.' She locked eyes with him and he gulped, petrified to dive in but knowing he had to.

“What about you, Y/N?” He asked, quietly. It felt like the question hung in the air for an agonizing eternity, even though she answered right away. Time worked differently when you were waiting to hear if your world was going to be shattered.

“I would be honored to be your friend,” she replied with a shaking voice. Even though it was strained, it filled him with instant relief. He believed her as he had believed Allison and nodded, biting his lip.

“I just want to tell, each of you, that I wouldn’t do that,” he turned to the group,” I wouldn’t and I will not. Because I think it’s real shitty.”

“Your friends wouldn’t mind because they look up to us.” Claire told him and he couldn’t help but laugh derisively in response. Next to him, he heard Y/N give a sort of squeak but figured that it carried the same disbelief towards Claire as his gesture did.

“You’re so conceited, Claire. You’re so conceited. You’re like, so full of yourself. Why are you like that?” Brian noticed the tears falling again and swiped them away. He didn’t want Claire to think she wounded him, that she had the upper hand. While it stung to have all of his beliefs about how the popular kids perceived him and his friends confirmed, that wasn’t what really was bothering him. It was more that it reminded him that he was invisible, he didn’t matter, which was exactly why he was here today.

“I’m not saying that to be conceited. I hate it. I hate having to go along with everything my friends say.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Claire sighed, and Brian noticed that she was drying her own tears. He didn’t necessarily like having caused them, but it was nice to know she was still human, that she was feeling the way he was, too. “You don’t understand, You’re not friends with the same kind of people Andy and I are friends with, you know? You just don’t understand the kind of pressure that they can put on you.” That, however, lit a fire within Brian. ‘Pressure from other assholes is so important? Try your own parents, Claire.’

“I don’t understand what?” Brian began, gesturing towards himself and planting his fingers into his chest. It relieved some of the dull ache there. “You think I don’t understand pressure, Claire? Well, fuck you! Fuck you!” ‘Also, fuck ‘bravery’ or saving face,’ Brian broke down into sobs in his elbow before calling out from his hiding spot, “do you know why I’m here today? Do you?!” He sat up to look at the group, the people he considered friends, to share his pain with them. “I’m here...because Mr. Ryan found a gun in my locker.” The words turned thick as they left his mouth and took on a life of their own. His eyes darted quickly around the circle, noting Claire’s dropped jaw, Allison’s tearful eyes that couldn’t meet his own, the way Andrew looked away and Bender seemed to know how he had felt, but also how he was surprised that Brian had the balls to do such a thing, and finally...tears silently and consistently slipping down Y/N’s face.

“What’s the gun for?” Andrew asked, interrupting Brian’s thoughts.

“I tried. You pull the fuckin’--trunk and the light’s supposed to go on and it didn’t go on, you know?” ‘You’ve said too much. They all thought you were a weirdo, now they think you’re a psychotic weirdo.’ “Forget it. Just--forget it,” he said in an attempt to brush it off, as if everything could go back to normal with the bombshell he just dropped on them.

“You brought it up, man,” Andrew insisted.

“I can’t have an F. I can’t have it and I know my parents can’t. Even if I aced the rest of the semester, it would only be a B. I’m ruined.”

“Brian…” Claire started, but there was nothing she could say to make this alright. ‘You’re a failure, Brian, and now you’ve become a freakshow. Look at her pity,’ his brain taunted him and he lashed out to hit the stool on his right, not even thinking about it until Y/N jumped up in her seated position, startled. The last thing he would want to do is hurt or scare her. ‘Shit, great. Another fuck up.’

“Sorry,” he mumbled in her direction before setting his head on his knee and continuing with his story from before, “Just considering my options, you know?”

“No, killing yourself is never an option!” Claire yelled at him, which made him scoff.

“Well I didn’t do it, did I? No, I didn’t think so.” ‘She really just doesn’t get it, does she? She still can’t picture why I’d want to--’

“It was a handgun?” Allison asked

“A flare gun. It blew up in my locker.” Brian sighed, but then he heard Andrew start to laugh. “It’s not funny.” Brian asserted. Andrew tried to clear his throat to stop laughing, but he couldn’t and Brian bit his lip and smiled in realization, “Yeah, it is.” The laughter was contagious...and better than crying. “Fucking elephant was destroyed.”

“You know what I did to get in here?” Allison asked the group, and Brian almost feared her answer. “Nothing. I didn’t have anything better to do.” That completely brightened the mood and Brian fell over laughing. It seemed like he was forgiven and that no one here was judging him for the failed lamp or the gun nor would they tell anybody about it. They...they had accepted him in the end after all.

*~~~~*

“...we trust you.” Claire was trying to talk him into writing one essay to cover all of them, and she was using flattery. Lucky for her, it worked. He looked down the row to seek approval from the others and they all nodded. But he liked knowing that they thought he was the smartest and the most capable, that they trusted his words would win over Vernon in a way that they wouldn’t be punished for not doing their own essays. It was a big task and a lot to entrust to him, so he took pride in fulfilling it. Claire took the other girls with her somewhere and it was just Andrew and him sitting silently in the library, so he decided to get to work. Andrew was just lurking about, playing with his jewelry, but he wasn’t a distraction. However, Allison passing by looking completely different was. Brian looked up, shocked that this was the same person he had spent all day with. Her hair was away from her face and he could actually see her brown eyes and she was wearing...white, the opposite of all of the layers of black before. He caught her glare at him staring at her so he tried to give her a reassuring smile, that it was a good look for her. She said, “thank you,” and moved on toward Andrew. Brian turned back to his essay and finished the last couple of lines, not noticing Y/N approaching behind him. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have kissed the essay or given himself a ‘good job’ punch in the arm.

He sat up in startled revelation when she spoke, “That good, huh?” He realized she had just seen everything. He had never felt more like a dork in his life and a blush crept up into his cheeks.

“Uh...yeah, I-I guess. I mean, do you want to read it?” He asked as she started to pull back the chair next to him to sit down.

“If you want me to, but I trust you.” She took her seat and placed her arm gently on his forearm. ‘Holy shit. She is touching me! She’s looking at me. What do I even say? Do I acknowledge the touch or do I just--’ “I’m impressed that you came up with something so quickly though.” Brian felt pride bubble up within him, knowing that she noticed...no, she was impressed by him. He cocked his head and looked at her sideways, trying to figure her out. She quickly looked away and pulled her hand back, now fiddling with her sleeves. ‘Is she...nervous?’ He thought, trying to decode her reaction. “So, um…you said earlier that you were in the Math Club? Um, I mean, if you have the time, do you think you could tutor me? I’m like totally lost in Clarkson’s class.”

He blinked. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t exactly that. Not that he would say no to spending more time with her. He had wanted that second chance, after all. “Yeah, no, I could do that,” he told her and watched as she twisted away and looked behind her, grabbing paper off of Allison’s desk. She leaned back forward and reached for his pen in front of him. She was actually close enough now that he could smell her shampoo and his body threatened to turn into jello on the spot.

“Here...is...my...phone number.” She said as she wrote it out on the paper and handed it to him. “Call me so we can set something up?” She looked up at him and knocked the breath right out of his lungs.

“You--You want me to call you?” He asked with raised eyebrows, wholly surprised by the request. He’d not only not kissed a girl, but one had never given him her phone number before.

“Yeah.” She smiled at him and his heartbeat picked up even faster, if that was possible. She cleared her throat and nodded towards Andrew and Allison. “So, those two, huh? Unexpected, right?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He was suddenly hurtled back to Earth, to reality. “Definitely. Wait, where’s Claire?”

“She...she said she was going to go ‘check on’ Bender.”

“Wow. So them, too.” ‘Everyone is coupling up maybe we should--’ he interrupted his own thought and shot it down. All he could say was, “That’s really...weird.”

*~~~~*

After they were finally released and Brian left his essay on the desk for Vernon to collect, and hopefully reflect upon, they all walked out together. It made sense as they all had to go to the main entrance, but there was a feeling of solidarity within it that made Brian think that the members of what he dubbed The Breakfast Club would continue their friendship come Monday.

Allison and Andrew branched off together, as did Claire and John. Brian looked quickly at Y/N as she walked down the steps with him. His dad was there to pick him up, which he was thankful for. His mom would definitely notice him walking with a girl and have a million questions and a lengthy lecture lined up, but his dad would barely notice, much less think anything of it. He reached for the door handle as Y/N was about to depart, but then she called his name, “Hey Brian,” he looked up, not sure what else she could possibly have to say, especially since they had been silent while the couples had veered off. “See you Monday.” She reminded him and gave him a small smile. He gave a grin in return.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you on Monday.” He replied, beginning to get into the car, her phone number burning a hole in his pocket. For the first time in a long time, he was actually looking forward to another week school.

Tags:

@criminalwipes

#the breakfast club #breakfast club #breakfast club movie redeux #midnight sun'd prologue #you're not the only one stephanie myer #brian johnson x reader #brian x reader #brian johnson #john bender #claire standish #allison reynolds #andrew clark #80s fanfic #reader-insert

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