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antebunny · 3 years

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Parent Trap AU 5

It’s a Parent Trap AU, plus on-the-run hacker!wwx and celebrity!lwj. Full series here.

At first, Lan Wangji finds writing songs to be extremely challenging.

He’s all but quit his job, and his son is gone. He’s alone in the house he once shared with his family, while his brother tries to keep quiet about pitying him and supporting him, and his uncle demands to know why he has no interest in searching for his son. He’s the one that files the kidnapping report, in the end. Not that it does much; they’re already searching for Wei Ying, since he escaped from prison.

All Lan Wangji really does, during this time, is cry by his piano, and sing.

The melodies come naturally to him. He’s been writing melodies for years, and these songs are no different. He has a thousand things to say, so some are angry, so fast he thinks he might tear his fingers on the guitar strings, some are soft with only piano accompaniment. All too soon he has dozens of recordings of phrases that can be put together into full-length songs. The only one he doesn’t record is the one he wrote for guqin, years ago.

But the lyrics, the lyrics he struggles with for ages. Not Lan Wangji finds himself at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t speak much, it’s true, but when he does he always finds precisely what he wants to say. Rather, Lan Wangji finds he has too much to say.

One Friday afternoon, he sits down on his couch and plays the same ten-minute ballad on his guitar, trying again and again to find a way to shorten it without feeling like he’s ripping a part of his already shattered heart out of his chest. While suppressing the urge to write more verses. He knows he can’t leave them all in; it’s too repetitive. He wants these songs to be good, though he doesn’t really plan on marketing them. A large part of him thinks it’ll always be like this. Just him and his instruments, alone in the living room, mourning over a love long lost, making himself cry over his own lyrics.

Still, Lan Wangji is a perfectionist at heart. He has to do something about the ten-minute ballad. It’s longer than two songs put together.

What if I made them two separate songs?

The thought comes to Lan Wangji suddenly, and he sets down his guitar to pick up the notebook containing the lyrics. This could work. He becomes convinced of this the longer he looks at the lyrics. He’ll never run out of things to say about Wei Ying, but if he separated each of those things into one song–that could work.

He chooses a different melody, edits the lyrics to fit it, picks out a theme, an aspect of Wei Ying to sing about, and suddenly he has a whole discography, and not a single published song.

Lan Wangji goes to his brother.

“Are you sure about this?” Lan Xichen asks, his brows pulled together in a small, worried dip.

“Mn.”

They stare at each other without speaking, because Lan Xichen knows that every concern he might think of, Lan Wangji has already over thought.

“Even if he hears them?”

Lan Wangji will never be famous enough that Wei Ying, wherever in the world he might be, will hear his songs. But if he does, then all the better. “Mn.”

Lan Xichen sighs. “I just don’t want to see you hurt anymore.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t think that’s possible. “Hm.”

Lan Xichen sighs again. “Okay,” he says. “If that’s what you want. I’m sure A-Yao knows someone. I’ll ask.”

It’s a while before he finds someone who’ll actually produce his music, but he’s happy with the person he ends up with. Luo Qingyang emails him back almost immediately after she listens to his demo.

I need you down here yesterday, she says. This is getting produced right now.

His first song, When We Were Young, is released as a single less than a year after the scandal that took Wei Ying from his life, under the stage name “Hanguang-jun.” He’s not sure it fits, but he wants to.

And suddenly, it looks like Lan Wangji might actually be that famous.

Of course, it’s still years in the future, so Lan Wangji carries on like he’s not. His second single, At First Glance, does even better than When We Were Young, and his manager starts bothering him about a music video. Apparently it’s expected of him, but Lan Wangji rejects all of the ideas that the directors Luo Qingyang finds for him come up with. They end up renting a house for a week and filming there, then going to a studio with lights and a piano. Lan Wangji dresses up for that and plays his heart out, and that’s it, that’s the music video.

His third single, Under Moonlight, is somehow more popular than his previous two combined. He has fans now, or maybe it’s just that he’s only now realizing it. He’s not quite sure what to do with that. The video this time takes place on the very bridge the song talks about. He doesn’t do much, since he rejected the idea of hiring actors to play the “counterpart,” so he’s confused as to why it continues gaining views on YouTube. Apparently he looks young. He’s not sure if this is insulting or not, but the internet would probably be shocked to learn he has a five-year-old son.

Lan Sizhui is too young to listen to music by himself, so Lan Wangji hopes that somewhere, there’s a radio playing one of the new hit songs by Hanguang-jun, and a father-son duo walking past.

Luo Qingyang bullies him into exactly one interview before his first album is released. On it, he accidentally confirms that all the songs on the album are about one person, and panics after that, not wishing to reveal anything about Wei Ying or even Lan Wangji’s own name on camera.

Apparently the mystery helps? Lan Wangji understands fame less and less the closer he comes to it. He thought if he just wrote good songs, enough people would listen to him that Wei Ying would hear it. Wei Ying is spotted in Thailand, and Lan Wangji ends up naming his first album Oceans Apart.

It sells, and it sells, and still, Wei Ying and their son are nowhere to be found.

Wei Wuxian is lying on a roof the night of his wedding anniversary.

Purple, white, and red fireworks explode in the black sky above him. There’s some celebration going on in the city, and Wei Wuxian takes advantage of it to pretend it’s in celebration of his anniversary.

Not that there’s much to celebrate. He doesn’t think it’s typical to celebrate the anniversary of a marriage which no longer exists, but their marriage didn’t end in the typical way either.

And he still loves Lan Zhan. Loves him so much that the sight of rabbits brings him to tears. So much that he feels like a traitor whenever someone so much as smiles in his direction, so much that he can’t imagine himself flirting with someone. So much that he cries on the roof when the fireworks light up the sky.

“Papa?”

Wei Wuxian looks to the right, and there’s Wei Sizhui, who is sometimes the only thing keeping Wei Wuxian going on his darkest nights. He’s nestled up with Wei Wuxian’s arm around him, small face peering earnestly at him from the dark. “What?”

“Why are you crying?”

Wei Wuxian raises one hand instinctively to rub the tears away. He’d forgotten about that. He’s thrown himself fully into caring for his son, making sure that he has clothes and good food to eat, which is hard when they never stay in a place for long and Wei Wuxian is paranoid of anyone who stares at them too long. Sometimes he wonders if he’s really doing any good, keeping Wei Sizhui away from his other father and uncles and aunts, from a happy childhood with friends and a school. And every time, he blinks back to the moment he woke up in the prison having narrowly avoided being murdered, and knows that Wei Sizhui is still safer with him than he’d be if he was still there, within the Jins reach.

“Nothing,” Wei Wuxian says. “It’s nothing.”

Wei Sizhui frowns. “But Papa is sad,” he declares.

Wei Wuxian presses the back of his hand over his eyes. Fireworks crack so loudly it muffles his shaky inhale. Tears stream down his cheeks and around his ears. Red lights flash across his eyelids.

White lights flash through the stage, focusing on the solitary grand piano, and Lan Wangji, in his white suit, seated on the piano bench. A hush falls across the massive crowd. He adjusts his microphone slightly, and places his fingers gently atop the keys. The cameras zoom in on him.

And Lan Wangji sings.

“I’m just remembering,” Wei Wuxian whispers. “Someone I used to know.”

“Is it Dad?” Wei Sizhui asks timidly.

Wei Wuxian inhales shakily again, then wraps his arm back around his son. “Yeah,” he admits. “It’s your other father.”

He hasn’t looked back since he ran away. Countless times, he’s thought about Googling the Jiangs in an internet cafe, just to check on how they’re doing. They have social media profiles, so he could. He could. But even the slightest hint of connection could ruin what Wei Wuxian has managed to salvage. The Jiangs would fight for him. Would drag their names in the mud for him, and he can’t let them do that to themselves, so he cuts all ties and doesn’t look back.

Wei Wuxian hasn’t dared to search Lan Wangji since he ran away.

“Hello,” Lan Wangji sings, and the crowd cheers.“It’s me. I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet, to go over everything. They say that time’s supposed to heal you, but I ain’t done much healing.”

Before he knows it, there’s tears streaming down his face. They drip onto his nice white suit, but the music doesn’t pause.

Hello from the other side

“Will we ever see him again?” Wei Sizhui asks plaintively.

I must have called a thousand times

Wei Wuxian tries to shake his head, his shoulders pressed against the dusty brick roof. “I don’t know, baby,” he says.

To tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done

“But why not?” Wei Sizhui pushes. It’s far from the first time he’s asked, but each day it gets harder and harder to answer.

Hello from the outside

“Because he’s very, very far away,” Wei Wuxian replies this time, and tries not to think of Lan Zhan as he last saw him, sleeping peacefully in their bed the night Wei Wuxian broke in and took Wei Sizhui with him. “Oceans away.”

At least I can say that I tried

Eventually, the fireworks stop, and Wei Sizhui falls asleep, head resting in the crook of Wei Wuxian’s arm. Wei Wuxian raises one hand to the midnight sky, pretends he can reach through the vast expanse to wherever his family is. “Happy anniversary, Lan Zhan,” he whispers. “I miss you.”

To tell you I’m sorry for breaking your heart

Eventually, the song ends, and the cheers deafen the stadium. The lights go out long after Lan Wangji has gotten up from his seat and stepped away from the microphone. The tears on his face are invisible until the cameras focus in on him walking.

“Happy anniversary, Wei Ying,” he whispers, before he picks up the microphone to thank the crowd. “I love you.”

#antebunny's ficlets #parent trap au #i will not pretend to write a song that's Famous™#i'll just steal Adele's which has 2.8B views on youtube #:)#mdzs #the untamed

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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

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Take It Easy - Little Movie Star Chapter Four (Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader)

[Actors-Masterlist], [Little Movie Star-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: The aftermath of the hate comments. Jensen explained that the future would not be easy if you had a public life. Bonding time with Danneel was appreciated & a revelation left Jensen with a plan for you.

Words: 2,022

Warnings: language, mentions of cyber bullying, bonding time, fluff, tiny bit of angst, fake social media posts (picture credits go to their rightful owners)

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

~2016~

Sunrise came sooner than anticipated. Wanting to procrastinate the talk with Jensen & Danneel, you slowly dragged yourself out of bed & went to the bathroom. Risking a look in the mirror was a big mistake. Your eyes were puffy from all the crying you did yesterday. Technically, you could go for sunglasses. Nope, you could not do that. You know who wears sunglasses inside? Blind people…& douchebags. Chuckling slightly at your own joke. Hopping in the shower real quick, you hoped the warm water could calm you down enough.

After putting on a comfortable outfit for the day, you took a deep breath & started walking to JJ’s room. It had become quite the routine for you. If you were up early enough, you stopped by her room & took her with you downstairs. Knocking softly & opening the door slowly, you saw her already awake, waiting for you to pick her up.

“Good morning, princess. Slept well?” she nodded eagerly & stretched out her arms.

“Let’s get to breakfast then.” smiling sweetly at her. Just for a second, you forgot all about last night & just lived in the moment. Oh, if it were that easy all the time…

Silent voices made you stop in your tracks. Eavesdropping was not something you usually did but you could not help yourself. Besides, you could tell that this conversation resembled around you.

“Maybe she hasn’t seen the comments yet.”

“Oh come on, Dee. Of course she has. I mean, our comment sections are filled with that bullshit.” Jensen was deeply hurt by what some of his fans were saying about you, after one single post.

“What should we do?” Danneel sighed.

“We talk to her.” that was when you coughed to bring the attention to yourself. They turned around & looked surprised by your sudden appearance. You set JJ down & crossed your arms over your chest.

“Sorry for listening in on you guys.” your eyes flickered down because deep down, you knew what you did was not okay.

“Hey, no, it’s fine. We wanted to talk to you anyway.” Jensen walked over to you, followed by Danneel.

“Please don’t listen to any of them, angel.” the nickname made your eyes shot up & when you looked at Danneel, you could feel the tears threatening to escape. Jensen could tell right away & wrapped his strong arms around your frame. You did not care about being vulnerable in front of them. Even though you were sure you would regret your actions in a few hours from now.

Breakfast was filled with conversation between the three of you. JJ & the twins were not understanding anything anyway & you were glad that they were too young to care about stupid comments made by anonymous people on the internet.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” Jensen’s voice was filled with disappointment. Though, you were not sure if it was directed at his fans or at his decision of making an Instagram post in the first place.

“None of this is your fault.” reassuring him quietly.

“You don’t deserve this. And we don’t want you to think that we’re not happy with you being here because that is bullshit. We love having you here.” Danneel’s hand found yours on the table & she gave you a little squeeze that put a small smile on your face. You were about to tell them something you had never admitted to anyone before. It was a big step for you & you were making yourself even more vulnerable in front of them. But they seemed genuinely concerned about you & you did not know why but you believed what they were saying. You just hoped your trust in them was not misplaced.

“It’s just…It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that. A lot of the families I had been to previously had shared their opinions with me. I’m used to it, I don’t even know why it’s affecting me this much.” Jensen & Danneel shared a look with each other. Yes, they were happy that you were sharing a little bit of your past with them but what you shared broke their hearts. The worst thing was that they knew it was not the only thing that had happened to you. There had to be so much more that you still had not told them & they were scared what would come in the future.

“Can you promise me something?” Jensen waited until you met his eyes. “If you have thoughts like that, you come to us immediately. Because whatever your mind tries to tell you, it ain’t true. A lot of these comments are not only hurtful but also threatening. And I’ll put a stop to this right now.” he pulled out his phone & opened twitter. He showed Danneel & you the tweets before he hit send. Afterwards, they told you that comments similar to what you had read will continue to come at your way, simply because they were celebrities. After all, you were part of their family now & therefore your life would also be kind of public. As much as you would allow it anyway.

To some, these tweets might not be a lot but to you, they meant the world. After Jensen tweeted these, you grabbed your own phone, opened Instagram & reposted the picture you took yesterday.

You meant every single word because you did feel like a part of this family & why you still could not understand why they wanted you in the first place, you were more than happy that you were here still. A few weeks ago, you would have never thought to stay with them for so long. Yeah, they really meant it when they said they wanted you to be a part of them.

“I know exactly what we need!” Danneel stood up & you gave her a confused look. What was she planning?

“Girls-Day.” giving you a wink, she helped you out of your seat & gave you a light push, telling you to get dressed so you guys could go shopping. Danneel was aware that you were still slightly uncomfortable whenever you were alone with her but she wanted to change that & what better way than a shopping trip together?

The trip to the local mall was very much needed. Danneel warned you about possible paparazzi & the thought made you nervous. What if you did not look good? What if it gave the media something negative to report on? Danneel silenced your thoughts by dragging you into the first shop. Your shopping spree was successful & you came back with tons of shopping bags. Feeling bad because you did not pay for anything, Danneel assured you that it was no problem. Besides, you did not have a lot of clothing to begin with & she told you that you needed it. Also, she gave you permission to raid her closet any time you wanted. And who were you to decline such an offer?

“Successful much?” Jensen joked when the two of you entered the house, struggling with all the bags you were carrying. He gave you a hand & set some of the bags on the couch. Your mood had changed drastically if you were to compare yourself to a few hours prior.

“Jensen, can you help (Y/N) putting her stuff in her room?” Danneel grabbed some of her bags, definitely not nearly as many as were filled with your clothing.

After putting all of the bags on your bed, Jensen offered to help you putting them away in your closet & you thanked him. While the two of you got to work, he commented on some of the clothes that he was storing away & said that you & Danneel chose a lot of great looking things.

“So, how was today?” Jensen started a conversation & you were not in the mood to lie to him so you told him the truth, the entire truth for once.

“A rollercoaster of emotions. But it ended great.” shooting an honest smile his way, one, that he copied.

“I know it’d be easier if we weren’t popular & all that.” he sighed.

“Not all of it is bad, though. I mean, you get so much love on a daily basis.”

“True, but it can be frustrating, especially when family gets involved. Still happens with Danneel sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, you know, when people get jealous & all that.”

“I’m sorry.” a tight lipped smile was on your face.

“Nothing to be sorry for. This life has its perks, but it also has a lot of disadvantages. When you’ve been in this business for so long, you start blocking out the negative comments...Hey, that was the last piece, we did it.” raising his hand for you to give him a high-five.

Falling backwards on your bed, Jensen mimicked your actions, you let out a long, satisfied sigh. Today had been exhausting, both mentally & physically.

“Now that we know that you enjoy shopping…what else do you do for fun?”

“Um, I guess a lot of creative stuff. I like writing. Taking pictures. Drawing. Oh, this will sound ironic, but I actually like acting a lot.” that peaked his interest. He propped up his arm & laid his head on it.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean...Whenever I imagine playing a role, it helps me control my emotions.”

“Do you have any experience?” he curiously asked. Maybe you had acted somewhere before?

“God, no. Just because I like it doesn’t mean I’m good at it.” laughing shortly, then you continued. “It’s not like there were a lot of opportunities coming my way growing up.” shrugging, you enjoyed the comfortable silence that followed. Shortly after, Jensen walked out of your room, telling you to get some sleep.

A plan was starting to form in his head. He had connections & if acting really was something that you enjoyed, why not trying? The producers had the last word & then he could see if it really was something that was just a hobby to you. He had a feeling that you would surprise him, though. Dialing the next person that came to his mind, he wanted to hear his opinion.

“Hey, man. How are you?”

“Hi, Jared. I’m great, thanks.”

“How’s (Y/N) doing?”

“Danneel & her went shopping today. But look, she just told me something.”

The conversation went on for a while & Jared was on board with Jensen’s plan. Still, it was meant to stay secret for the time being. They planned a dinner in a few days from now. Just him, Danneel & you, joined by Jared & Gen. It would also be your first time meeting them. This decision was made shorty after you arrived at the Ackles’ house. Simply because you were freaking overwhelmed with the entire situation & had to get used to them at first. Now, it felt like a good time to introduce you to the Padalecki’s. At the dinner, they would tell you about their little plan. Before that could happen, though, Jensen had to make a few more phone calls to set everything up. Hopefully, you would not kill him after finding out. No, he could tell that you were being serious about this. You might not admit it but he noticed that your passion for acting was way bigger than you let on.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (04/10/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @vicmc624, @imaginationisgrowth, @stoneyggirl, @alyispunk, @thevelvetseries, @multifandomlover121, @samsgirl93, @supernatural3002, @diabetes-03, @prettyybubblesintheair, @originalsoulcollector, @vir-tual, @bellero, @sergantbuckybarnes (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

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dantelionwishes · 3 years

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hi idk if you still want OC interactions but I am sliding into your ask box anyway...

I know makoto is in the other class but considering how outgoing they are (they've obviously interacted with everyone enough to give them all nicknames) I don't think it would be hard for them & ikuto go end up talking or sparring together during training, & the nicknames/playful teasing would actually make it a bit easier for him to approach them as it acts like a kind of ice breaker, although he would probably be really nervous around them for a while after they hack his laptop, worrying about if they're judging him about it, but would probably realize soon that they don't really care, then cue the occasional teasing, "wow, this is almost as cringe as your internet history" & ikuto's face turning red

with hikari they actually are in the same class, & although neither of them would approach the other if they ever ended up working on something together he would likely try to start up a conversation to ease both of their nerves, I would hope he would be someone relatively easy to talk to for hikari, despite his resting bitch face his tone when speaking to people makes it clear he's not bothered, & he enjoys talking to more introverted people, he would probably try this best to not provoke any of her social anxieties & make it clear with his facial expressions that he is intrigued & enjoying the conversation so she doesn't have to struggle to read him (part of his own social anxiety) once they get past awkwardly initiating a conversation she would probably be one of the few people he would quietly wave to in the hallways because he knows she's too shy to

(gosh sorry for the super long ask)

SUPER LONG ASKS WELCOME TO THE CLUB [MARIO VOICE] YAHOO BABEY--

Ikuto and Makoto already have a dynamic esp after we’ve lowkey established how Ikuto was never the type to share anything much but always kept his secrets on a laptop, whICH IS A PERFECT OPPORTUNITY FOR MAKOTO UNFORTUNATELY SDGHJJHRDF EVEN IF SHES FROM 1-X, SHE WOULD TOTALLY JUST END UP ON IKUTO’S LAPTOP........it might totally look like bullying on the outside bUT ITS ALL LOVING I SWEAR im glad that he isnt too offended!! thank god the laptop situation became an icebreaker instead of something he hates </3

she does tease him a lot about it, but I think what would change their dynamic the most would be makoto walking up to him in a hatsune miku shirt with the most inviting and smug look on her face and telling him he can play games at her room HAHAHAHA man imagine sometimes he’d be in his room but then his laptop just starts playing vocaloid music to announce her arrival HAHAHAHA for real though watch as the two probably hardcore rave vocaloid songs in her room or go down akihabara to check out miku figurines........

HONESTLY I AGREE THAT HIKARI MIGHT BE A BIT HARDER TO TALK TO, AGAIN, CONSIDERING SHE ALWAYS MAKES EXCUSES TO MAKE SURE SHE DOESN’T GET TO INTERACT WITH ANYBODY UHHHH esp with his resting bitch face?? she’d def be avoiding him, but as her mun I super appreciate him trying hard to make sure his facial expressions are clear that he’s not showing any signs of malice/uninterest!!

BUT OK STARTING OFF VERY NICE THOUGH WITH THE HAND WAVING if he’d always wave at her all friendly with a smile at first she would probably try to ignore it, but wait until he waves and she bashfully waves back before fleeing with a red face!!!! <3 IM ROOTING FOR THESE TWO INTROVERTS

#ratty-memes #i ansr #bnha oc comeback #makoto shiba #hikari kamino #others ocs

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watchtower-feed · 4 years

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Detective

Anon: after your last imagine I can't shake college Damian off my mind, can I request one about him and his s/o in college? I don't really have an specific idea but something like walking them to class, studying together, getting each other coffee and just overall taking care of each other. Notes: I didn’t get to cover everything in the request because there are too many scenes and I didn’t wanna turn this into a bullet point fic. Hope you like it though! Words: 2,774

“No.”

The girl that approached the table looked forlorn and her friends slowly helped her walk away.

“Ugh,” Will groans. He’s one of Damian Wayne’s friends and their varsity is currently doing charity work for Gotham Academy. Will took a brilliant idea from the internet where they set up a table offering people to walk them around campus if they feel bullied or generally unsafe.

“You can’t keep saying no to people, Wayne. That’s not how the charity works.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “I know exactly how this works, and those girls did not need assistance.”

“Yeah. In the bedroom, they did,” Mike laughs and tries to fistbump Will who just stares at him until he puts his hands down.

Damian’s attention is already taken by you. He kicks back his seat to leave.

“Where are you going now?” Will whines.

“Helping someone who actually needs it.”

You’re walking to your next class while looking over your shoulder every now and then. To Damian, they’re simple signals of someone who feels like they’re being followed. So he stands right in front of your path in the middle of the quad where there is a multitude of people around. You almost bump into him but he quickly takes a step back to give you your space.

You know him. Everybody on campus knows him. He’s the greatest player the football team has ever had. Too bad he left halfway through his first semester and joined the swim team instead.

Damian is staring down at you from being almost a foot taller. Then something catches his eye and he looks at someone behind you who quickly hides behind a statue.

You see a small snarl on the corners of his lips before he starts taking steps around you. You stop him immediately.

“You can’t--”

“Why not?” Damian quickly asks.

“If you-- if you get in a fight again, they’ll kick you off the team.”

Damian raises his eyebrows in thought, “That doesn’t sound like much of a loss to me.”

“Please don’t.” You grip his arm tighter.

He stares at you, “Why haven’t you reported him?”

“He-- he hasn’t done anything. He’s smart. He keeps his distance and no one has actually noticed him following me around.”

“I did.”

And you want to thank him for that. This whole semester has been a nightmare for you. It started with your survival instincts kicking in, always warning you that you’re in danger. Your gut has never failed you so you listened. But this stalker is so good that he’s hidden himself well from all of your friends. Friends you’ve lost because they deemed you too paranoid and anxious.

“Come on.” Damian’s voice saves you from your thoughts. “I’ll walk you to your class. Spanish, right?”

You’re stunned, “How-- how do you know that?”

He rolls his eyes and then points at your books. “It’s the one on top of your pile. Lucky guess.”

You suddenly feel assured and laugh a little. “You’re quite the detective.”

His eyes widen at the comment and he slowly turns back to you. “You have no idea.”

Damian walks you right up to the door of your classroom. As soon as you thank him, he leaves and heads for his own class. When it’s time for lunch, you’re surprised to find him standing against the wall outside of the room.

“You’re here.”

“Do you have another class?” he asks you while his eyes roam the hallways.

“No, I’m about to have lunch.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” Without giving you time to respond, he starts walking to the cafeteria and you try to keep up with his strides.

So far nobody has paid attention to the two of you. But when Damian carries both of your trays to your table, the staring and the whispers start. There are even some flashes from cameras that almost blind you.

“Sorry,” he mutters under his breath while concentrating on his food.

You shake your head as you watch the lines on his brows and the irritation on his face. “It must be hard being a Wayne,” you say.

He grins at the thought of what it’s like to be a real Wayne beyond what the gossip columns say. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s all this stupid attention that I hate.”

“That’s probably why you don’t date, huh?” Damian looks up and stares at you with a raised eyebrow. You quickly wave your hands, “It’s just that-- my friend-- well my old friend-- she asked you out once and you said you’re not interested. We teased her that maybe you’re just not interested in her but--”

A sudden flash hits the side of your cheeks and Damian is quickly leaving his seat and marching over to another table, the table where your stalker is sitting with a camera pointed at you. You wince at the sight of it.

Damian grabs the man’s camera still strapped around his neck. “What? Did you think you could hide your flash among these paparazzi wannabes?” Before he could say anything, Damian takes off the camera and starts flipping through the pictures.

“Hey, man! That’s mine!”

Damian scoffs. “Really? That’s good then. You can get it back from the cops.” Damian turns the camera around and shows the stalker a picture of you in the girl’s shower. His eyes widen and quickly tries to run but Damian grabs him by the collar and slams the side of his head against the table.

You watch all of this go down from your table. People’s murmurs are louder, trying to figure out what’s going on. When word reaches you that Damian is calling the cops, you feel a new kind of relief wash over you. Suddenly, your shoulders felt lighter and it’s easier to stand up straight.

Damian stays with you the whole time. Whenever the officers and the stalker’s voices got too loud, your voice would falter and Damian would speak for you, authoritatively holding everyone’s attention.

Once the stalker was detained and all evidence tagged, you and Damian walk back to campus.

“You seem… happy.”

You didn’t even notice you’re smiling until you touch the upturned corners of your lips. “I feel kind of free… like a bird.”

Damian snorts to himself, “Yeah.”

You mull something in your head and speak your thoughts out loud, “You planned that, didn’t you?” Damian stops walking and he’s looking at you when you turn around. “You knew he wasn’t just following me, and that he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity you created.”

Damian’s brows furrowed, “I apologize for using you as bait--”

“No!” you interrupt and hold his hands, “I was just thinking that it’s ingenious. Forget being a detective, you’re almost as good as Batman.”

Damian smirks. You suddenly see a whole new side of him probably no one on campus has ever seen. A playful one. “Just almost?”

When you reach the dorms, Damian walks you right up to your door. He takes a quick look inside to make sure you’re roommate is already there. Before you let him leave, thinking this will probably be the last time you’ll be together again, you gather up the courage to hold his arm, stand on your toes, and kiss him on the lips. “Thanks. For everything.”

Damian gives you a look before he nods and leaves. You watch a small shade of red reach the tips of his ears as you cover your own blush.

The next day, Damian Wayne is back at the table with his varsity friends. You walk by and only mean to wave at him before your next class. But as soon as he saw you, he shrugs off Mike’s arm from his shoulder and gets up to leave.

“Dude, no. You’re bailing again?” Will whines.

“You have more than enough people here. Just message me.”

Will slumps down in his seat and crosses his arms, “Yeah right. It’s not like any of us has your number.”

“They don’t look too happy about you leaving,” you tease as he approaches you.

He shrugs nonchalantly, “They’ll live.” He gives you a long look before he raises an eyebrow in curiosity, “You seem happier today.” You quickly blush and immediately think of the kiss from last night. “You’re thinking about the kiss, aren’t you?”

You stare at Damian with wide eyes. You wonder if he’s either a real detective or you’re just too obvious. You laugh, “You, too. I mean you’re actually teasing me. Where is the always-reserved Damian Wayne of Gotham Academy and what have you done to him?”

He smirks and points ahead to the direction of your next classroom, World History. You look down at the top book in your pile and roll your eyes. Definitely the detective. Definitely obvious.

After class, there’s no Damian standing outside waiting for you. You try not to feel the tiny pang in your chest and walk to your Figure Drawing class. As soon as you walk in, you come face to face with a very naked Damian Wayne.

When Damian returned to the varsity table, Will had given him punishment for bailing twice in a row and volunteered him to be the model for a class. Damian has absolutely no problems with appearing naked in front of anybody. To him, this was just a chore he had to do to live up to his civilian identity.

�� But as soon as he sees you walk in through the door and your eyes roam from his head all the way down to his toes, he grits his teeth. “I’ll kill him.”

“Y/N, please. You’re already late. Take your seat.”

Your lecturer’s voice jolts you back to your senses and you quickly take a seat on the far side of the room. It’s one of the most grueling classes you’ve been in since you got to the academy. Damian avoided your eyes the whole time.

“Y/N, wait for me.”

Damian calls out while he put on his clothes. You’re already standing by the door and a lot of people had stayed to continue to watch him. When they heard him call out to you, they instantly turn and glare.

As soon as he reaches you, he puts his arm around your shoulder and you walk out together. You can feel the heavy weight of his arm rest on top of you.

“Do you have another class?” he asks. You shake your head, still unable to speak to him because you keep seeing him naked inside your head. “Good. Let’s have lunch in the city.”

Damian takes you to a small diner hidden in a corner between the business district and the Narrows. The lunch rush is already over and you find yourselves in a corner booth.

“Wow,” you say. “I never expected you to eat at a place like this. You’re more down-to-Earth than I thought.”

“As opposed to what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Being a rich kid? Everything handed to you on a silver platter?”

“Trust me, Y/N. Nothing was ever handed to me. Everything I have-- everything I am, I worked for.”

You prop your elbow on the table as you look at the once menacing Damian Wayne. The past two days, you’ve spent with him have completely changed your opinion about him and a little of the ancient Wayne family.

Speaking of.

“My family’s here,” Damian mutters as he scoots over until he’s sitting next to you, freeing up his side of the booth. A group of four walks into the diner and start heading for your booth. “Damian!”

“Good morning, Grayson. Cain.”

Two of the four, nod their heads at you. While the shortest boy, who is still taller than you, crosses his arms. “Rude. What about us?”

Damian doesn’t pay him any attention. You watch as they enter the booth in a single file.

“Late night?” Damian asks.

The one he called Grayson gives a long sigh as he sits next to Damian. “You have no idea. Would’ve been faster if Rob-- Ow!” The tallest of the three elbows him and nudges his head toward you. “Oh, hello there.”

“Are you on a date?” asks the girl he called Cain, smiling.

“Yes.”

“We are?” you ask right away. You tried to keep your voice low but from the way their eyes widen, you know they heard you.

They look at each other and smirk. “Looks like you forgot to inform your date,” teases the tallest one.

Damian smirks to himself before replying. “Y/N can’t think straight at the moment. Still a little flustered after seeing me naked.”

Damian pulls you closer to him to avoid the spray of water from one of his siblings. “We really shouldn’t be letting you loose into society without a harness, Drake.”

“It was for figure drawing class,” you chuckle to break the tension, and try to appease their wide eyes with your waving hands. “I’m Y/N by the way. I go to GA, too.”

“I’m Dick,” one of his siblings reaches around Damian to shake your hand. “These are Cass, Jason, and Tim. We’re Damian’s siblings--”

“Adopted.”

Jason looms over the table and grabs Damian’s head to harshly rub his knuckles into his hair. “You don’t have to say that every time, demon.”

“Todd-- Stop it--”

Dick tries to pry them apart but ultimately fails and accidentally gets punched by one of Damian’s flailing limbs, making Jason laugh. “You may have gotten bigger, but you’re still a runt!”

“Not-- as much-- as Drake--”

Tim, who’s sitting at the outer edge of the booth across from you, apologizes for his brothers with a sigh. “I wish I could tell you that we’re not always like this.”

You smile at the thought and finally realize why Damian is always so reserved on campus. He’s the youngest of such a big and lively family. Dick and Tim are familiar, too. You’ve seen their faces on the Legacy Wall of the academy. You’ve seen a few pictures of Jason and Cass, too but not as much.

This is what Damian meant when he said he’s worked hard for everything in his life. It must be hard living behind so many giant shadows.

When Cass finally intervenes and disentangles the boys, you place your hand over Damian’s as he sits back down. He turns to you and you give him a supportive smile.

He smirks and raises an eyebrow, “You keep getting into a better mood each time I look at you.”

You blush a little because who would ever expect someone to just say things like that. “Maybe your company just does that to me,” you tease back.

You hear a quick snicker from Dick and both of you turn to him. He’s visibly whispering to Cass but it’s audible enough for you to hear. “They’readorable.”

After that, Damian never took you back to the diner again, not wanting to let his siblings see the two of you together. But on campus, you are almost always together.

“Stop! Stop!” you laugh and try to protect yourself from the whirlwind of water Damian is sending your way as he shakes his head. He had just finished training and met up with you at the stands where you’ve been studying while waiting.

Damian leans down and kisses you on the lips. Your eyes widen before they slowly close as you let him lead. You hear catcalls from his teammates and you can already guess that Damian’s flipping them off.

“Okay. Come here.” You break the kiss and pull down the towel he had draped around his shoulders. You use it to properly rub his head and dry off his hair. “You must be tired. That ran longer than usual.”

Damian tries to look at you as you keep drying his hair, “Competition’s next week so we’re doing last-minute checks on everyone’s forms. Did you wait long?”

You nod your head like a child. “Been here since morning. It’s so hard to date a varsity,” you groan.

Damian takes the towel from you and rubs your face with it. “Think that’s hard? Try dating a vigilante.”

You giggle as you try to fight Damian for the towel, “I wouldn’t mind that. Batman seems to be getting hotter these days.”

You’re only teasing him and he knows it. But you don’t know that the mantle of Batman has been passed down to him. So he laughs out loud and it’s one of those rarest moments you want to treasure but you also can’t resist the urge to just kiss this happy and carefree version of Damian Wayne.

#requested #Damian Wayne #Batman #batfamily #College!Damian #Older!Damian #DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #Damian Wayne fanfiction #Damian Wayne imagine #Damian Wayne x reader #Robin #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem

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watchinglikeafangirl · 3 years

Text

The way they handled Type’s trauma

I thought I would never come to the taste of thinking about TharnType ever again but here we are. Whose fault is that? The peaceful nature’s. How dare it let my thoughts wander and why bring up TharnType all of a sudden, brain?

I think I don’t have to tell anyone here what a f***ed up show TharnType was and why I mainly wanted to forget about it, but we’re going to dig a little bit deeper into one of the aspects that made this show so unlogical and showed its inconcistency: the way Type’s childhood trauma was handled. The inconsistency concerning that aspect mostly shows during the second season because that’s when it all went down to sh*t. I still think - though I’m not proud to say this - TharnType season one was a guilty pleasure. Yes, they are toxic and the end fight was really something else, but I somehow found it enjoyable enough to keep at it. I was at least a bit invested and I have to give Tee (the director) all the credits for that because I believe it’s totally on him that the show was watchable. The story was garbage from the very beginning but at least he made it work. It didn’t look that bad any more - not until you sat down and reminisced about the plot, but that’s not his fault. Tee totally nailed it with “Lovely Writer”, so yes, directors have a lot to say and when they changed directors for season two, the endproduct made me wanna run away from my phone. I don’t even know why I kept watching. I guess because it was an internet joke to do so. Just like the people still watching Riverdale: because it’s so bad, it’s nearly not funny any more but somehow compelling.

season one

This season starts off with a very important piece of information of Type: he is homophobic. We don’t get a real reason for a long time because he didn’t really bring up arguments against homosexuality. He was just against queer people, period. It takes a while before Type opens up to Tharn about why he is so afraid of homosexual men explicitly. Until then, there’s a lot of weird, uncomfortable sexual tension between them with Tharn basically dragging Type against a wall or something, so he can’t escape him. Yeah, this toxicness of their relationship is a different topic...

To be honest, I didn’t expect Type’s reason to be that shocking. I had tears in my eyes when he talked about being molested as a child because this is just something one doesn’t expect. It’s such an aweful action and experience, I can’t imagine. So, yeah, the reason for his fear of gay men comes from this childhood trauma and it literally explains everything.

He had nightmares of that day. He was obviously scared of his feelings because in his head that would mean being like his molester. And he didn’t want to be the center of someone’s attention again since his family pressed charges after he was molested. Actually, the reason why Type was so violent the whole time was to make others stay away from him, so he won’t ever be the talk of town again. If you’re untouchable nobody dares to try, so you live isolated from the world. It’s some sort of self-protection. It goes that far that he rejects gay men to have anything to do with him. He only met one homosexual up until this point at that meeting was traumatizing, so it makes sense for his character to be scared, to be hauted by that fear. But since Tharn is pretty needy, Type can’t escape him. His self-protection still kicks in because later, he refuses to define himself as gay. Being gay would mean being like his molester or at least, share something with him which is a terrifying thought.

The scene when Type tells Tharn about his horrible life experience, it was probably the most touching scene of the whole show and no other scene follows on this list. No, their break-up doesn’t count for me because I giggled the whole time because of the acting lmao. Sorry but no. Anyway, that scene indeed was touching and I was really shocked. The way Tharn then stops Type from telling any more felt realistic and this whole situation was very private. Just two people getting to know each other deeper. And all the ugly things included.

But - there’s always a but with TharnType - after the confession, nobody seems to care any more. It’s like letting the audience know was the missio here and it’s accomplished now, so let’s move on. Let’s not discuss how much it still affects Type. In fact, let him look like a total a**hole and a bully. Tharn is not more gentle with Type, pushes him even more into telling others though Type needs to sort his struggles out alone first. But then, Type doesn’t give a damn as well and they don’t talk about this topic again. Then, their relationship is more important.

Later this season, Type’s dad even nealy makes a joke about the whole trauma and I find that a bit disturbing. But again, Type is not touched by it. It seems like he doesn’t remember it, like this information was never given to us. It’s very odd but okay. The fight with Llong took more time though it was played out in a very boring way.

season two

Okay, season one was fine compared to this aweful masterpiece called “TharnType: 7 years of love”. It’s been seven years and the relationship didn’t make ANY progress. Type still hasn’t outed himself to the world and they are still jealous of women. So much inconsistency, it hurts. But let me just continue talking only about Type’s trauma because season two just walked over it.

In the beginning, Type’s behavior still mirrors that trauma. It is still visible because he doesn’t tell anyone about his boss keeping an eye on him. Why is that? Because he is again the victim of harassment and is too afraid to admit it, even to himself, because that would mean casting attention onto him. He can’t let this fear of events repeating go, he can’t shake it off. It’s again his self-protection to not let bad memories get ahead of him and mess with his thoughts. Labeling something as harassment might cause his nightmares to return because a trauma doesn’t leave your mind entirely. The bad night and days turn into bad moments but it still returns to you over and over again, but Tharn seems to have forgotten that. He seems to have forgotten his partner he shares a bed with gets heavy nightmares whenever he feels pressured. Tharn continues pushing Type to marriage and talking more about the stress at work. He doesn’t care because Tharn is selfish just like Type. The trust issues surrounding their relationship are ridicolous. Seven years for god’s sake!

Well that is that. I just wanted to point out Type’s trauma is still visibly sticking to him. But this season turns around completely with the whole Fiat kidnapping. That’s the moment when things stop to make sense entirely because Type seems to have forgotten everything about his trauma. He comes up with the plan to kidnap Fiat, forcing someone with a boyfriend to flirt with him, lets Leo watch all of this whilst feeling like the smartest person in the room. But man, did you forget you’re making Fiat the victim of abusement, just like you are one?! Why the hell did he do that? To punish Fiat? It freaking looks like he’s about to r*pe him! Shouldn’t Type know from personal experience how much such events affect a person? Fiat must’ve felt weak, scared - more like terrified - and helpless. It leaves a scar Type can tell a story about but he forgot. He forgot that with doing this, he’s not much better than his molester which would’ve originally been a no-go for him but I guess, he reached his lowest point here and there's no turning back. He doesn't seem to regret it anytime later because he doesn't even tell Tharn...

conclusion

It's is obvious the card of the trauma is only played when they have no other idea of explaining situations. The characters constantly forget about it until it's important again which shows exactly, the writers didn't care enough. Or MAME didn't care enough which she would set me on fire for but teh inconsistency is undenieable. It seems like it wasn't the original plan to give Type a tragic background but the story was too boring without it but some scenes wouldn't've worked normally because of the trauma. Type would never have kidnapped Fiat! But who am I telling this? You already know...

Yeah well, I guess we can agree season one at least knew what it was and tried to work with that and season two just totally lost its purpose.

#just know i read summaries to write this #it gave me a headache lmao #the story is so bad #i can't #tharntype #mewgulf

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kewltie · 4 years

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omfgggg pregnant!deku. imagine where no. 1 hero is not only an omega but is pregnant and it's still early in his first trimester so he's running around kicking ass but IT'S DEKU so ppl frets and worry over his safety that even villains r like uh i dont wanna mess w/ that. deku is like ridiculously popular & well like even among criminal bc he believes in 2nd chances & rehab of the criminals/villains & fight for disenfranchised youths who fell on the wrong side of the track. so yea, they fight against him but they're also kinda soft for him!!!

so when they found out their fav hero is pregnant & still patrolling there's like some super-secret nonverbal agree among them that they won't stop doing what they are doing but like,,,, nobody fucking touch deku ok or you'll deader than dead. which is ALL KIND OF HILARIOUS bc deku coming to a bank robbery & the criminals doesnt stop their crime but when they fight him, they're like super careful w/ him making sure he doesn't get knock back, fall, or hurt himself too much.

when deku finally captured them and as they're about to taken away, they happily congratulated him on his pregnancy & ask if he'd thought of names yet & one of them is like, "oh, when my husband was pregnant eating X & Y really help with the nausea." and izuku is like,,, thanks???

there's like so many ppl invested in deku's pregnancy that it bizarre bc he's not the first or the last omega to ever be pregnant but he's deku, prohero, no.1 rank, and symbol of hope. all that means is there's a hyper fixation on everything about him esp now that he's pregnant. talk shows, news channel, & celeb gossip show are all talking about it one way or another. whether he's should take an early leave of work or not bc of the danger of his job, the baby's sex, his pregnancy craving, bump watch (I KNOW), & even a countdown to his due date.

the entire country is in a baby fever just bc of deku. everybody talk obsessively about it & even if you find that one person who does not care they def know someone who does. all this happen while deku just go about his day like all of Japan isnt watching his every move lol. the strangest thing about deku's pregnancy is that there's no sign of the other parent?? deku isnt even dating anyone. he never mention any alpha AT ALL, only declaring that he plans to raise his baby all by himself as a single parent which blew their fucking mind bc wtfffff.

look, deku is the most famous omega around, sitting high atop of the world as the no. 1 hero & is adore by the mass--he's greatest omega of his generation some would say so yea there's lot of expectation & hope place on him but deku is deku & he does what he wants. ppl speculate that maybe he's pregnant bc he had a one night stand and this was accident, maybe he has been in a secret relationship all this time, maybe this baby was from a spurned lover or WORST yet a produce of rape... LIKE there's so many rumor swirling around but the answer is actually v v v simple. deku has always wanted a child and since he's nearing 30 right now, he thought it's hightime he has one and the other father? JUST A DONOR. it's nothing serious or complicated as ppl imagine to be.

deku wants a kid and now he has one!! but ppl just can't comprehend how it could be that simple when the most notoble omega in all of japan decide he wants a kid W/O having a mate and he's going to raise this baby all by himself and nope he's not even going to quit his job at ALL to have a family. deku is just--blowing their mind lol

the world doesn't so much get over it as they just kinda get dragged along bc deku does not give a single fuck wut other think and proceed to be immersed in his pregnancy and try to survive the next 6 months while everyone waited on bated breath to see what deku does next. the only thing that stick is the constant rumor mill of who is the donor of deku's baby. they assume that deku wouldn't just pick a stranger bc he's sentimental like that so speculations run amok about every alpha that is closely associate with deku.

there are public polls, betting rings w/ billions on the line, televised debates, internet flame wars, and ACTUAL ARGUMENTS B/T FAMILY/FRIENDS/COWORKERS on who the fuck is deku's donor! even more than deku's baby, they're fucking obsessed on finding out who is the actual donor. the thing is it's not THAT big of a secret. all of class A are in the loop, his mom know (ofc), and even his agency but they all managed to keep it a secret bc deku's privacy is the utmost important & beside the other father would literally MURDER them if it ever get expose.

this is how it went: bullied by his pr team, deku went on a variety show where they have to babysit kids & put through various childbearing challenge while cameras record them for entertainment purpose. It's there when deku realized "ah, I WANT THIS. I WANT THIS V BADLY." deku is climbing close to his 30 now, he's well established presence in the hero world, and his life is pretty stable so it's high time he have his own little family but the thing is babies are two ppl business. they don't just come from thin air so deku did the next best thing.

katsuki would like to say he didn't see this coming the same way you would not expect to be attack by a shark on land, but in this case deku is that fucking shark & katsuki is the idiot that get completley blindsided by him when deku cornered him one day and asked for his sperm.

ok, bakudeku aint dating. they have deep & complicated history that is not only confusing o everybody else but also confusing to them. 'friend' would be to light of a word but anything else is left undefined bc how do you explain more than 2 decades of w/e they are to each other. katsuki doesn't want to talk about the amount of time he'd used image of deku to get off while in rut just so he can survive through it, while the next few days trying to resist punching deku in the face bc he act like a sacrificial idiot who got a cross he wants to bear.

it's not 100% healthy his therapist unhelpfully pointed out but the core of all his volatile feelings have always been named deku & katsuki doesn't know how to compartmentalize it properly bc katsuki may have squashed to something small & insignificant but it's heavy & permanent. so when deku laid his fucked up request at katsuki's feet, he broke the table they were using and nearly walked out if deku didn't catch him by the arm in time.

"kacchan, pls here me out first," deku begged of him, his sweet permeating the air; he's NOT PLAYING FAIR AT ALL. whoever said alphas are the dominate sex in the world have never met an omega, a determine goal focus omega with babies on the brain like deku.

"kacchan, recently i realized that im only getting older so i want a child when i still can," deku explained. "so won't you help me? i know settling down right now is the farthest thing from your mind, but im not asking you anything like that," he continued as katsuki quietly fumed in the background. "i just want your help in making this selfish wish of mine come true. you're among my top choices, kacchan."

Katsuki jerked up. "wait, you mean to say there's a fucking list of alphas you plan to extort their sperm from?" he seethed, feeling like deku had took a goddamn knife to his pride and butcher it completely. "how many other ppl have you asked before you even came to me?!"

"im not extorting anything from anyone." Deku frowned. "and, well, you always lectured me about diving head first w/o any backup plans," he pointed out, "so i made sure to leave several options open just in case the first one fell through. see? i did thought this one thru."

katsuki nearly broke another piece of furniture at the thought of deku asking someone else to father his child as though he was just another face in a long list of ppl deku could use. "What did every alpha on ur shitty list rejected u already so now have to come to me for help?"

deku, who was no.1 for a reason, narrowed his eyes and the air crackled around them. "kacchan, this is extremely important to me so i wouldnt just chose anyone. i only know a handful of alphas i can trust and someone im happy to share the other half of my child with. you're the 1st person that came to my mind when i thought about a child growing inside of me," he said, wrapping his arm around his flat tummy. "despite our many differences you're the one i admire the most. your strength & ambition, grounded by your strong drive & work ethics. the fact that you got where you are w/ your own hands & wits to guide you, i think you're just amazing. so how could i not want those kind of qualities for my own child," deku explained. "im sure a child born from half of your genes you will shine just brightly as you do."

katsuki felt so taken back that found his tongue heavy and words were escaping him. on one hand he felt a rush of pride and a strange sensation of happiness that deku had specifically chosen him out of his potential candidates bc of the greatness he had seem in katsuki but he'd also narrowed katsuki out not bc of some sentimental bullshit or lingering feelings but he thought of providing his future child with the best gene pool as possible so his child can flourish. it's a damn ego busting for katsuki but deku was clearly a man on a mission.

katsuki hesitated and thought what it would mean to have a child out there who carry a lil part of him in them; it's unnerving and humbling at the same time. he never thought of it himself but deku had dream of this, wanted this so badly enough to beg katsuki for help.

"alright," he said finally, not knowing exactly what compelled him to agree, but the look of utter happiness spreading across deku's face as he can barely contain his joy. a single word from him had caused deku's word to shift and rearranged itself to make room for another life.

and that's how katsuki got con into helping izuku make a baby lol. but, really katsuki was the one who agreed to it out of his own will bc he's an idiot & also terribly whipped; omegas are the ones ppl should be frighten of bc once they make up their mind it's hard to move them. they're an unstoppable force, something to be reckon w/ esp when that omega is the no.1 hero who fought his way to the top of the rankings and maintain that status quo for many years despite how many times katsuki tried to topple him from that perch LOL.

katsuki already lost the war before he'd even put a foot down on battlefront the moment deku'd opened his mouth & demanded his sperm AND HE KNEW IT TOO. so that was how katsuki found himself preparing to empty his balls in front of a two-way mirror in a mating clinic bc of deku. omegas, esp males, are the most fertile when they're in heat & when an alpha go in a rut, but the both of them have this arrangment that's more of a duty than any feelings involve bc they cant risk getting mix up in the hormones. this is for deku & his future child!!! so the clinic had prepared a large room w/ two way dividing mirrors& open air vents circulating b/t the two rooms so they can breathe in each other scene where deku can have his heat on one side and katsuki can watch BUT NOT TOUCH and get his rut on so he can produce sperm.

it's uh, not supposed to be v sexy since it's all clinical & shit but bakudeku being bakudeku they nearly tear the room apart to get to each other in heat/rut madnes. deku had blushed earlier as he asked to be bind with quirk restrictions cuff just in case he go crazy which HE DID. at first the nurses there was more worry about katsuki going crazy and out of control bc he has been known to fall pretty high on the alpha aggression and they fear it would be katsuki who would be dangerous; BUT NOPE it's deku all all along who almost broke the REINFORCED MIRROR just so he can get to katsuki!!!! DEKU WHO PPL SOMETIMES FORGET IS LIKE THE NO. 1 HERO FOR A REASON. soft and sweet deku who single handedly can fuck you up with just his fingers if he want to. he's an omega on a mission and he wants that knot up his ass AND HE WANTS IT NOW.

the nurses & docs have to use everything in their toolkit to pull bakudeku apart. when it's all said and done, katsuki embarrassingly produce buckets of cum enough to last deku a looooooong long time if the first one didn't take lol while deku couldn't look at katsuki in the eyes. they are both horridly embarrass about their 'not mating' and their action toward each other there even though they never actually touch each other through out the whole heat/rut procedure. despite the fact that they DIDN'T HAVE ANY SEX, it was still the hottest exp for both.

katsuki never seen more more feral and fierce omega who nearly broke the entire room just to get to him, in that moment if katsuki wasn't in love already he would have been half way there and izuku didn't expect KATSUKI AT ALL. the way he had handle izuku was completely diff. in izuku's heat fever, katsuki was the lone anchor who'd provided him grounding. he tried to calm deku down from his ramp up hormones even though he was as clearly affected as deku. forceful but not unforgiving, commanding not unyielding, firm but gentle.

it was electric.

it was as though izuku was a wild animal unleashed and katsuki managed to tamed him and he never had even had to raise a single finger to do it. it was all in his words that cut through izuku's hazy feverish wants and desires. the kind of alpha that made deku's knees weak.

after that, they have wordless mutual agreement to never talk about it. deku got the sperms he wanted and katsuki had finally fullfiedd his obligation and isn't responsible for deku or his future child. HE'S DONE. they dont have anything to do w/ each other anymore. RIGHT??? ha.

it's funny bc izuku had his hope on a child but didn't think it would take so soon! he'd thought he would fail a few times first before he get really lucky w/ conception bc of his age now that he's older, this 'psuedo mating' can't replace real mating, & biology is fucking weird. even the fertility doc couldn't promise this procedure to insert bkg's sperm in him when he's still got in a heat fever will work 100% and if they fail, they have to wait for another HEAT to come before it could work. which mean months of waiting in b/t so izuku is desperate. BUT it took one try. THAT'S ALL IT TOOK as izuku anxiously waited for the news in next couple of weeks. he took at home pregnacy tests and when hall 3 results were positive he'd cried and called his mom but even then he didn't tell anyone bc he was so scare it just was a fluke.

he'd kept this secret until he finally got the visit to his doc and could get the firm confirmation he needed! when the doc revealed that he was indeed pregnant, izuku fell to his knees in relief bc finally, FINALLY, his dream of having a baby had came true. he's a father now!!

the doc had warned that the first trimester would be rough on him bc of his age and miscarriage is more likely for him than most male omega. maybe he should consider taking an early pregnacy leave bc of the danger his job poses to him & the unborn baby. deku had agonized over it. ultimately, he decided to continue w/ his hero work but won't take on as much stuff as before. he plans to be more careful & attentive to his safety, and defer his more dangerous work to his colleagues instead. all his friends and coworkers go out of their way to help him w/ this

izuku got an entire community of heroes WHO DO THEIR BEST TO ENSURE HIS PREGNACY GO SMOOTHLY bc look izuku may be doing this alone but HE'S NOT ACTUALLY ALONE bc he got his friends, colleagues, and mom to support him through this bc they know how much this means to him!!

katsuki was one of the last to find out but only bc deku plan to see him in person to tell him bc katsuki HAD GIVEN HIM ONE OF THE BEST GIFTS (beside OFA) and he wanted to thank katsuki in person but class A are a bunch of gossip mongers so he found out through their groupchat. it started as a joke about katsuki & his super seed bc what a fucking stud bakugou katsuki to have ONE TRY and is able to knocked izuku up so quickly lmao. w/e the fuck katsuki is doing or eating, apparently it works wonder for him bc one of his sperm luck out & hit jackpot. his so called friends cant stop ribbing into him for knocking up deku so quickly bc they know from deku's worry that it wasn't going to be an easy conception but IT'S BAKUGOU KATSKUKI, outdoing himself once more bc he never does anything by half, not even his own sperm lol.

izuku met up with katsuki right outside his agency bc he knew wassup and how to corner katsuki effectively by trapping him when he just high off his patrol when he least expect an ambush esp when he was too busy avoiding izuku's attempts to reach him bc of COMPLICATED FEELS.

it's not cowardice that kept katsuki away, but izuku was the source of all his confusing feelings already & now w/ the news that he's carrying katsuki's child now it'd gotten worst. izuku, though, was nothing if not persistent. he zeroed in katsuki right away w/ purposeful steps.

"kacchan, i'm so glad to meet you here," izuku says as though he hadn't coordinate this w/ katsuki's coworkers, who are all SOFT for izuku anyway lmao, to get katsuki alone JUST LIKE THIS. katsuki knew he was caught bc every one his friends & colleagues are FUCKING TRAITORS.

"what," he snapped, clenching the hands at his side as he tried to keep his gaze from izuku's still very flat tummy. it's weird to think a life was quickly taking shape there when it's not like izuku looked any diff but he smiling more brightly & warmth coming from his person. was this what they call the pregnancy glow? bc deku was fucking blinding that katsuki wanted to shove his hand to deku's face to block it out.

"what you want," he demanded again even tho they both know why deku was here.

unperturbed, deku smiled. "im pregnant now so thank you. you'd helped fulfilled one of my biggest dreams & im ever so grateful for it!" he continued, rocking happily back & forth on his heels but the words barely registered katsuki kept staring at the way deku's body swing out & he opened his mouth before he could think better of it.

"should you be even moving liek that ?" he asked BC SINCE FINDING OUT IZUKU IS PREGNANT HE LOST HIS MIND. as soon as the words left his mouth he knew he was a dead man walking.

izuku leveled him a glare so fierce that he actually took a step back w/ chills running up his back. "kacchan i may be pregnant but im not an invalid," izuku said with the sharp edge of a smile and thinly veiled steel in his voice. the scariest part was that he hadn't drop a single smile but the ominous threas was there. "do you want me to show you how much of not invalid i am?"

katsuki scowled, face pinching at the thought whether this was just the usual deku's bs or this was deku's bs + the pregnancy hormones that get him so rile up. either way, katsuki no matter how much of an ass he was, he wasn't going to punch a pregnant omega to prove a point.

"fine, that was dumb sorry," he said, scratching the back of his ear in annoyance. "so was that all you wanted to say?"

deku's eyes crinkle in amusement as katsuki's scowl deepens. "yea, i just wanted you to hear the news from me personally and expressed my thanks."

"i'll take good care of them," he said softly, a stray hand caressing his stomach carefully. "I promise i'll be good to them so you dont have to worry."

katsuki paused and then, "I know," he said bc he does. deku was going to be a good parent w/o a doubt. That is a truth.

deku's eyes light up at katsuki's words and there was a hint of wetness in them that katsuki had the unnerving fear that he was going to cry right here and katsuki's entire agency going to charge out & murder him for making a pregnant omega, THE PREGNANT OMEGA DEKU cry in public.

"t-thank you," he sniffs, but THANKFULLY NO ACTUAL CRYING INVOLE, "it makes me so happy to hear that you in believe me. i won't fail you, i swear!" he said it like he was making a vow for world peace or some shit bc of how serious it had sounded but this was important to him.

"yea, okay," katsuki said, looking away bc got this entire conversation was agonizing bc here he was talking to the person, but not JUST ANY RANDOM PERSON, who is carrying a baby w/ half of katsuki's dna & they're not fucking each other. like,,, that's fucking weird okay.

"that's all i wanted to say," deku told him, fully aware how uncomfortable this talk was making him, "so I won't bother you anymore." he gave one last smile and turned to go but KATSUKI WHO SHOULD HAVE LET IT END THERE found himself opening his mouth and grabbing deku by the arm.

it was careful, a firm but gentle hand placed his forearm like deku was glass that stopped him for a moment. "if--if," katsuki said, swallowing around a stone in his throat, "you find yourself needing anything, call me ok? ANYTHING i dont care just call me and i'll be there."

a slow but the brightest fucking smile he had ever seen bloom on deku's flushed face. "ok, i'll let you know," he replied, bc this was KATSUKI PUTING HIMSELF OUT THERE AND WANTING TO GET INVOLVE IN IZUKU'S PREGNACY even tho deku had given him a clean break from it. HE CHOSE THIS.

katsuki doesn't know what he was thinking then but the words slipped passed his guard before he can stop it & now he fucking doomed himself, doom himself to 3am late night calls of deku crying in hysteric at his home bc he ran out of some rare hard to find fruit bc CRAVINGS. so now katsuki had to dragged himself all the way across town to hunt for this shit. the morning news of that day was hero ground zero harrassing shopkeeper in the FUCKING ASS'S OCLOCK FOR SOME FRUIT AND DEMANDING IT NOW FOR W/E REASON, WHILE LOOKING SO FURIOUS & UNHINGED.

look, it's not like deku doesn't have an entire network of ppl to reach out to if he ever needed anything bc they would even laid down their life for him but even when he's cursing a storm trying to get deku's his midnight craving, he's so relief it's him that deku called first. besides, he firmly knew wut he had signed up for the moment he had opened his mouth. offering is help in the pregnancy process was him choosing to get involve and commit to deku & his (god fucking damn shit, he can't think of it as *theirs* bc that's too dangerous) baby. and bc this is bakugou katsuki and he never does any by halves so even though he may have been reluctant at first but now that he's firmly on board he's going in full throttle w/ no break in sight. katsuki dumps all his $$ on pregnacy & prenatal care books.

he read papers, argued on pregnancy forum, & even harassed his parents on it just so he can come at this like a fucking boss bc while he has full faith in deku to put the safety of the fetus first but also HE DOESN'T FUCKING TRUST DEKU TO PUT HIMSELF FIRST which is just as import. deku has the self-preservation of a damn child & he can't expect a *child* to take care of himself so KATSUKI OBVIOUSLY GOT TO DO IT FOR HIM. so he make diet plans, prepare prep meals for deku ahead of them, annoyed deku's coworkers to watch out for him lest he does something stupid. he make it his firm mission that this pregnancy will go smoothly as possible so even when he's running errands for deku, getting his weird ass food craving, and taking deku to visit his ob-gyn, sitting in the waiting room anxiously for any news in case SOMETHING GO WRONG.

He even drives himself crazy learning about the things a pregnant person can't do/is at risk of doing & he doesn't know how anyone can fucking take this for 10 months bc it's like walking on a precarious tight rope. it's scary & humbling and he just want deku & the baby to be ok.

there are still crimes and villains to wrangle, and the world keeps on spinning; nothing really change all that much now that deku's pregnant but katsuki finds himself personally accolating his precious time and energy toward deku & the baby. he became one of those *PEOPLE*, ugh. he never got it even when his friends had popped out spawns of their own. he wasn't going to get dragged down by biology & all that general bullshit about settling down. he's at the top of his game & prize to take over deku's position as no.1. he got no time for playing family.

yet here he is standing in the middle of a fucking baby store, staring down a damn baby crib and having a melt down. who the fuck knew that baby cribs come in so many fucking versions and THERE ARE JUST TOO MANY OF THEM. he thought he had come prepare but no this was toughs shit. he only saw this store in passing while on a patrol & thought he should drop by but the next thing he knew he got trapped here for three fucking hours just looking at baby cribs. he already got several people walking passed him, eyeing him weirdly as he internally freak out.

there are ridiculous amount of info floating on the internet about crib buying guide like the bars could only be certain inches apart, non-toxic paints, diff kind of mattress, safe headboards, etc etc. all of that to ensure the baby doesn't fucking DIE bc babies are like FRAGILE.

he calls deku & as soon as he picks up, the first thing katsuki says is, "last year, there were 1,842 babies death due to sudden infant death syndrome."

a long pointed pause, and then, "oh geez," deku answers, "where are you? I'll be right there, okay? don't go anywhere!"

#bakudeku #not!fic #sperm donor au

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okaybutlikeimagine · 4 years

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Since the quarantine started I've been trying to keep myself in shape, and I started to do exercises every day, feeling completely incapable. 😂😂😂 Imagine Billy trying to be some sort of personal trainer for Jonathan, mostly because he noticed that he doesn't move enaugh, but also because it's funny to watch him stuggle while Will and El laugh their asses off.

first of all: i FEEL it!! dude i keep trying to do things and then my mind is like: you’re real funny to think i’m ever doing anything physical ever again

I’M CACKLING i absolutely cannot!! Billy and Jonathan's relationship w/ each other makes me laugh and this??? has me rolling. you just know Jonathan would NOT want this. he'd push so hard against this. (also sorry i kind of gave this a plot WOOPS)

Okay, if this was a modern AU/if i ever could rip my absolute love for the 80’s away from myself enough to WRITE a modern AU, i think this would make the PERFECT ONE. like….. Imagine Billy filming shitty little videos on his camera/phone for social media (snapchat or instagram or like……. Vlogging for his fitness youtube channel or some shit, idk, i don’t use social media enough but you get the idea) and being like: “Alright guys… day one of turning local twig into more than just skin and bones.”

And he’s sauntering to Jonathan’s room as he talks and turns the camera around to find Jonathan’s door open and him laying on his bed like, reading or going through his camera or something looking at and deleting pictures he doesn’t like/need/whatever and Jonathan looks up, just barely perturbed bc it’s just Billy and his door is open so he kind of asked for this and the camera catches the exact moment that Jonathan’s face switches to -oh shit oh no Billy has his camera out- and he just goes: “What are you doing?”

And Billy turns the camera back around to him and you can see Jonathan’s little head and scared little face in the background behind Billy’s shoulder as Billy says: “Training day!” with the biggest, widest, most malicious grin on his face as he fucking trust falls back onto Jonathan’s stretched out form.

And Jonathan starts scrambling trying to get up but he’s really just flailing his limbs, eyes going wide as the camera gets blurry and there’s a thump and an-

“Ooof!”

And then Billy’s cackling.

And Jonathan’s voice is strained- sounds like someone’s practically choking him- as the camera focuses on Billy’s grinning face and skinny hands that are pushing at his broad shoulders and his cheek (which makes Billy grimace bc he doesn’t like his face being touched thank you) and Jonathan says: “Get off, you’re heavy.”

“First exercise! Push me off yourself.”

“What?” Jonathan squeaks. “No! I can’t! You’re like, a million pounds.”

“Million pounds of pure muscle, baby.” Billy says as he lets all that muscle go and becomes absolute dead weight onto Jonathan who is struggling.

“I hate you so much.” Jonathan wheezes, shoving at Billy, pinching him a few times until Billy smacks Jonathan’s hand hard enough to make him whine, laughing about how that’s cheating, jackass

You’re the one who won’t get up, asshole.

Yeah, well maybe after this we need to work on your reflexes, slow poke.

And it goes on like that. At first Billy does it randomly bc it’s kind of just a joke, like: “I think I wanna mess with Jonathan today. Let’s go.”

But then he gets kinda serious about it and it becomes an actual series of videos like: “Day 5, cardio day! If he can do it, then you can do it.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

Billy shrugs, grinning at the camera with an: “I think it’s pretty funny...”

Jonathan shoves at Billy, who in turn shoulders the boy back and makes him lose his balance.

The curly haired boy sends a knowing look to the camera.

“And this is why we’re doing this.”

“Whatever.” Jonathan mutters.

And it’s kind of fun for both of them, honestly!! Jonathan gets into it (even though Billy’s a little aggressive in his ways…) and absolutely does NOT look at any of the comments. Billy does though, and likes to tell Jonathan all of the ones that 1. Playfully make fun of him and 2. Are like…… really oddly and kind of grossly horny for him (bc Jonathan’s face gets red and he always tries to run away as quickly as possible bc our boy is a Shy Lil Bean who does NOT want to hear about how some random girl or guy on the internet thinks Jonathan is “just cute enough to eat the fuck up”) there are also some extremely rude people who shit on Jonathan constantly but they’re bullies and Billy always tells them off right before blocking them completely.

ANYWAY enough of that, let’s get back to the 80’s please!

No vlogging, no comments, just Billy walking out of basketball practice to his car to go hang out with Steve, heading around the back of the gym so he can avoid as many people as possible, when he hears a very familiar sound.

He looks over, out of instinct and curiosity bc yup, it’s a body being slammed into the chain link fence that surrounds the school. And his sauntering slows, curiosity fully taking over because hey, he must know the dudes that’re fighting, and gossip is one of the only interesting things in this town and-

Shit.... Shit, he knows that floppy hair.

It’s Jonathan. Billy doesn’t have a good view of the guy who’s pushing him but the two boys behind him are Jacob and Trevor so he figures the dude acting as the aggressor must be that jackass Zack Olson. The boy’s a punk. Billy keeps a careful watch of the scene in front of him, wondering what the occasion is.

And then the boy, with a hand still on Jonathan’s jacket, reaches his fist back for a punch. Billy does all he can to keep himself from going over there. Something about the need to “fight your own battles” or whatever filtering through his head when-

The boy punches Jonathan’s stomach. Billy’s mind is racing, blood starting to boil, shifting his weight.

C’mon, bud… fight back… I know you can-

He gets shoved back against the fence again, before his shin is getting kicked and-

Nope nope nope-

Billy’s kicked into gear. He’s stalking over there, getting faster with each aggressive move and the assholes are goddamn cackling and Billy’s blood is boiling and it seems like Jonathan’s had enough at this point bc he ducks out of the way quickly and then Billy’s veering for the hole in the fence and he’s stepping through it and he slams his hand against the fence, the rest of it shaking noisily as all 4 of the boys swing their heads over to him.

“Hargrove!” calls one of the boys.

“Get out of here.”

“C’mon… we’re just having some fun-”

“Get… out... unless you want your nose broken in multiple places.”

Fear fills their eyes, but they don’t leave without a scowl.

And then Jonathan is there, coughs a little bit, and Billy’s mad.

“Hey.” Jonathan mumbles, pushing off the fence to walk past Billy but Billy grabs his wrist before he can get away.

“What was that?” He asks, teeth clenched because he’s confused and is trying to make sense of this. “You just let those guys beat you up like that?”

Jonathan shrugs.

“I don’t understand you.” Billy continues, sitting in his hip, still keeping hold of the thin wrist. “Those guys are punks… You beat up my boyfriend, didn’t you? What are you doing letting those guys do that to you?”

“I don’t like to fight.” Jonathan mumbles and Billy thinks he needs to clean out his ears.

“Don’t like to fight?” Billy laughs disbelievingly. “From what I hear you beat Steve up to a fucking pulp and you don’t like to fight? Don’t give me that shit-”

“Yeah, because Steve was saying stuff about Will and… and my mom. So.” Jonathan looks Billy in the eyes but Billy’s too busy being shocked by the words.

He knew Jonathan beat Steve up in an alley. He knew Steve did some pretty shitty stuff leading up to it. He knew Steve incited it. He knew Steve was sorry sorry so sorry... but he didn’t know it got so personal. He didn’t know Steve said shit about the Byers. Steve never wants to talk about it and, frankly, Billy never wants to ask. But this seems important. Maybe he will. Because… well-

“.... He said shit about Joyce? And Will?” Billy’s grip loosens.

“Yeah…” Jonathan mumbles, hanging his head again, shaking his wrist out of Billy’s hand. “But he- he didn’t mean it. He was just mad. He apologized. A lot… it’s fine.”

Billy’s gonna have to ask about that. But for now he’s got a shaking boy in front of him that for some reason he like…. Actually cares about now and it’s weird but it’s not horrible and… and he doesn’t wanna see this boy get hurt when he knows the boy himself can prevent it.

“Huh…. well you’ve got reflexes obviously. Don’t tell me it’s some ‘monster’ side of you or something- you’ve got practice.”

“Yeah well…. I used to….” Jonathan’s voice gets far away. “I used to have to fight my dad off...”

“Oh…. huh.” Billy knew that too. Vaguely. Knows Jonathan’s dad was an absolute asshole and Jonathan used to have to keep him at bay so he wouldn’t hurt Joyce or Will. Still doesn’t make it any less shocking to know that their little family has roots in so much pain and fear. They’re such a good family now. They didn’t let it break them apart. Joyce fought for them and… and Billy can’t think about that too much. “So what, you’re one of those guys? Hero type, won’t fight unless you need to or whatever.”

“You do the same thing.”

“Do not-”

“Most of the time you do.” Jonathan says with an eyebrow raised. “C’mon Billy, you can cut the tough guy shit. I know you now.”

Billy’s not having it. “Yeah, whatever, this is about you. Maybe if you had some more meat on your bones they wouldn’t be able to push you around like that.”

“It’s not that, they’re just jerks-”

“Yeah, and you’re not exactly intimidating-”

“It’s fine, Billy, stop pretending like you care-”

“I do care, you asshole.”

“Then quit worrying. I’m fine, I’ll take care of myself, I can handle it… it’s fine. I just don’t like fighting.”

Billy’s irritated, but he’s too tired to fight because he already knows the two of them could go at it forever. He just watches Jonathan shrug his shoulders harshly as he backs up before he turns, slips through the hole in the fence, and stalks away.

Billy rolls his eyes.

But when he’s with Steve, he brings it up. The fact that he saw Jonathan after school (Steve asked how he’s doing), the fact that he saw Jonathan getting beat up (Steve sat up with concern and asked if he stopped them), the fact that Jonathan told him he doesn’t like to fight (Steve nodded with understanding, like he knew that already), the fact that-

“Jonathan said you said shit about Will and Joyce.”

“Hu-... oh…”

“That’s why he beat you up.”

“I… I didn’t mean it. He knows I didn’t. I swear I didn’t, I was just… it was a lot that was happening and-” Steve is stammering. Billy starts to feel bad about it. “-there’s no excuses. No no, there’s no excuses, I shouldn’t make excuses, I was an asshole and I shouldn’t have said that shit no matter how angry I was because they… they didn’t do anything and Will is such a good kid and Joyce is like… one of the only people that actually ever seems to care and-”

“Babe.”

“And I didn’t mean it, I swear-”

“Babe.”

“H-huh?”

“I know.” Billy says, grabbing hold of Steve’s face to get him to calm the hell down. Steve breathes.

But Billy still doesn’t know what to do about Jonathan. And Steve tries to reassure him that- “He knows what he’s doing. We know he can fight them off he just… doesn’t want to. Can’t make a horse eat the hay or…. Whatever it is. What is it? Can’t get an old dog to… drink from a river?”

Billy rolls his eyes, but his heart beats a little faster.

“You’re such a dumbass.”

Steve tries to be resentful but he’s being kissed so he doesn’t exactly have the opportunity.

But Billy isn’t okay with this!!! He truthfully doesn’t know how Jonathan even has the reflexes he does still bc Lonnie’s been gone for a while and all the boy does nowadays is lay around the house…. Literally that’s it. At any given moment of any given day he’s laying on the couch, laying in his bed, or running around with his camera- and by ‘running’, he really means ‘ambling’ bc the boy has absolutely no sense of urgency.

He likes to say that he had “enough urgency back when I thought my brother was dead. I’d like to take a break now.” but Billy likes to say: “That was two years ago, you lazy fucker.”

So.

And Billy can’t really be lead to believe that sex with Nancy is that much of a fuckng cardio work out. Billy doesn’t know hardly any details of the two and their sex life because he doesn’t want to know but Billy can bet the two of them are the most vanilla people on the planet. And Nancy is tiny, it’s not like lifting her would be that much of a physical strain. For anyone.

So...

He’s like…. upset about this. Jonathans carries himself very differently when he’s at home than when he’s at school but it still bothers Billy bc why. And he figures it must be bc the boy just isn’t physically capable of being confident in a place with so many people. Figures maybe Jonathan just wants to be invisible when he's at school and so he shrinks but Billy just doesn't understand. And now all I can think about is Billy being a really fucking aggressive version of Glinda from Wicked and Jonathan is Elphaba and Billy just stands in Jonathan’s doorway, large and intimidating presence that he is, and says: “Jonathan, I’ve decided to make you my new project.”

And Jonathan, who’s laying in bed eating popcorn and flipping through his photo album as he listens to R.E.M. just gives a very disinterested look in Billy’s direction and says: “You really don’t have to do that.”

And Billy sits in his hip and raises and eyebrow and rolls his eyes and says: “I know…” on a sigh, with a vaguely exhausted and yet somehow cocky “That’s what makes me so nice.” tagged onto the end.

“Think I’m gonna have to disagree-”

“No time. C’mon. We’re going for a run.”

And Billy tries not to give the boy much of a chance, but he makes it so difficult. For as thin and lazy as the boy seems to be, Jonathan has a lot of fucking endurance. He can fight Billy on this forever and Billy really just wants to pick him up and throw him in front of the weights and make him lift them but like… he knows he can’t so he gives up for the day.

But then one day he catches Jonathan asleep on the couch.

So he scares him awake.

“Shit!” Jonathan jerks, sitting up and looking into Billy’s face and sighing harshly. “Billy! Are you trying to kill me?”

“Did that get your heart rate up?”

“Yeah, you nearly scared me to death.”

“Great, we’re going for a run.”

“No.”

“Yes, we are. 5 laps around the house and then we’ll see where you’re at, c’mon.”

“Billy I said no.” And Jonathan pushes himself up and starts heading to the kitchen but Billy just isn’t having this because… because he knows Jonathan was getting smacked around again yesterday. Knows he got harassed after gym class. Billy saw it. He’s mad about it and he thinks he can do something about it so he’s gonna and…

Billy grabs hold of the back of Jonathan’s shirt and yanks him back.

“Billy!”

“You think you’re good? Fine then, fight me.”

“No.”

And Billy keeps hold of Jonathan’s shirt even as he struggles out of the way and Billy knows the boy used to be able to hit and take a punch in return but he just… he needs to really know. If Jonathan can get away from him then he’ll leave him alone but only then.

Jonathan struggles. “Let go of me.”

“You get away yourself.”

“Billy-”

And Billy pulls Jonathan back some more so he can pin him against the wall aggressively and Jonathan shrinks and Billy’s got him against the wall, hand to his chest, arm’s distance away from him, waiting for Jonathan to fight back and-

“Fight back.”

“I don’t want to!”

“Do it. Try and get away.”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m at home! I don’t… I don’t wanna fight in my house! Not in the house, just-stop. What if Will walks in?”

And the words strike Billy harshly. Like he’s the one that’s taken a blow, like Jonathan just punched him and-

And suddenly Billy feels like an absolute asshole. Because he’s being a bully. He’s bullying Jonathan in his own home, even when he’s being asked to stop. He’s an aggressor. He’s being their fucking father and maybe the intent isn’t malicious but that doesn’t change a whole fucking lot, now does it? He knows it doesn’t. He loosens his grip, unsure how he could have let himself get this far. He tries to convince himself that it’s not like that... but he knows that Will wouldn’t see it that way if he were to walk in.

He lets go of Jonathan. They stand there in silence.

But Billy’s still just not okay with this.

“I just… I don’t wanna see you get pushed around anymore.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes.

“Then look away.”

Billy growls.

“No, you idiot. Don’t you… you affect Will too, y’know!”

Jonathan eyes Billy darkly. “Yeah, what are you talking abou-”

“What do you think he would think if he saw you getting pushed around? He’s gonna think it’s okay to let people do that to him!” Billy’s getting riled up and really he feels kind of stupid being so affected by these people he gave absolutely zero shits about a little over a year ago but… but now.

Jonathan’s mouth screws up in thought and irritation. Billy’s trying to hit it home.

“He’s not gonna stand up for himself because you don’t.”

Jonathan slumps against the wall. Billy thinks he’s got him.

“I still don’t see why you care.” Jonathan mumbles, eyeing Billy with a curiosity that’s colored with disdain and Billy’s a little sick of that face.

“Because you guys are my family now, jackass.”

Jonathan scoffs disbelievingly. “I really never would have pegged you for being such a ‘family guy’, Billy.”

The words leave something bitter in Billy’s system. He licks his teeth . “Yeah, well, maybe I don’t wanna be like those assholes.”

Jonathan sizes Billy up for a second… and Billy knows he’s got him.

“Fine.”

Billy’s grin becomes shark-like. If that scared look on Jonathan’s face is regret… well it’s too late for that.

And so Joyce comes home from her shift at the store to find her son…. Running…. Around the outside of the house……

“Uhm… Hi honey.” Joyce climbs to the porch, turning around as Jonathan stops in front of her.

“H-uh… huh… huh… huh…h-uh-”

“Don’t stop! Who said you could stop?!” Comes a voice that makes Joyce jump.

Billy jogs up, looking up at Joyce and giving a polite smile.

“Hi!” He says, hands on his hips, slightly out of breath but looking rather unbothered compared to Jonathan who’s currently bent over wheezing.

“Uhhhhhm…. What’s going on?”

“Jonathan’s my new workout buddy!” Billy says triumphantly, patting a large hand harshly on Jonathan’s back and causing the boy to cough in response.

Joyce looks concerned. Billy’s not too worried about it.

“Uh huh. Alright then… well, I’m just gonna start on… dinner…. Then….”

“Sounds good.” Billy pats Jonathan’s back harshly, barking again once Joyce has her back turned. “Alright, 5 more!”

“B-but! We just did 5!”

“Yup, and we’re doing 5 more. C’mon, the longer you stay standing the harder it’s gonna be, now move!”

And Jonathan’s getting shoved and then the two are running, Jonathan flailing a bit more with every step he takes but hey…. All that stuff about Rome and taking time and whatever… Billy thinks that applies here.

And so the two of them work out and Jonathan kind of 100% wants to quit every time they start (esp bc Billy seems to know exactly when it’s inconvenient for Jonathan to start working out and picks that exact moment to bug him) but…. It kind of feels good... he guesses.

And Billy pushes hard at first. And he makes Jonathan eat more. Like… a lot more. So much more, in fact, that the boy vomits and Billy realizes he may need to pull back because: Hey…. maybe he can’t force too much too quickly. He’s just trying to get the boy to carbo-load so he gets some kind of muscle.

He wants to track it too (because maybe this is his calling or something), so he asks Jonathan for his camera and pulls him in front of a wall.

“Uhhh… please just… just be careful with it.” Jonathan insists, holding onto his camera until the last possible second but eventually having to concede to allowing the camera to lay in Billy’s large hands.

“It’s fine.”

“Put the strap on. It can’t fall if you-”

“I’m not putting on the stupid little strap, I’m not trying to look like a loser, I’m just trying to get a picture.” and then he’s twisting and flipping the camera around in his hands, mumbling: “Now how do I…?”

“Be careful.”

“I’ve got it!” Billy barks, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m just looking for the-shit!”

“Ah!” Jonathan cries, moving lightning fast towards his camera and catching it before it hits the ground. His breath is labored from his fear. “What the hell! Be careful, asshole!”

Billy’s heart is racing too, fear flashing in his eyes as he watched the camera start to fall to the ground. He takes a second to collect himself.

“Cool. Good. I was just testing your reflexes.”

“Yeah, it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re a clumsy piece of shit.”

“Hey.” Billy growls, reaching to grab for the camera again but Jonathan holds it away. “Keep that up and I break it for real.”

“Yeah yeah.” Jonathan says, completely unconvinced, flopping the camera strap around Billy’s neck and catching his head a bit.

“Hey, watch the hair!”

“Woops.” Jonathan mocks like a piece of shit and Billy’s gonna fight him just for being irritating. Jonathan steps back up against the wall once he’s satisfied that the strap is on properly.

“Alright, say cheese.”

“Cheese.” Jonathan mumbles and the flash goes off.

And the two of them work out every day!! And every week Billy pushes Jonathan to stand against the wall and takes some pictures, some with him flexing (I feel stupid, Yeah well you’ll feel less stupid once you’ve got something to flex, now shut up and stay still).

And Jonathan is sore. Like… all the time. El laughs about it when she tries to mess around with him and he winces in pain. Will is a little worried but it makes him giggle.

One day the two kids are sitting in the room, eating lunch and watching TV, when Billy decides it’s time to lift weights in the living room. And so they do. And Jonathan’s just lifting the bar and it’s difficult. And Billy likes to show off so he’s lifting a shitton and yelling at Jonathan to keep up and it’s hard and the kids start laughing.

Jonathan whines a bit, setting the bar down and asking Billy quietly if maybe they can do this later because…. Well… he’s embarrassed.

And that just won’t do. He’s not okay with that. Because he’s having Jonathan do this so that they can both be good examples for these kids and they’re laughing?

So Billy sets his weights down and walks in front of the kids and El glares him down bc he’s “in the way” and Will seems kind of nervous bc Billy has that glint in his eye and then-

“Ah! Wait! Billy!”

Billy scoops Will up and carries him over to Jonathan and shoves a squirming Will into Jonathan’s arms.

“Weight training.” Billy supplies by way of answer, and Jonathan is laughing bc Will is wriggling and he’s hard to hold like this but Billy’s too busy walking over to El who’s so busy cracking up over on the couch that she doesn’t notice Billy is currently headed towards her on a mission… until he picks her up and then she’s squealing and he turns to Jonathan with a: “Get to it!”

And Billy starts curling with El is his arms and she’s squealing and wriggling and all 4 of them are laughing and Hop is most definitely confused when he comes home in his break between shifts.

But progress is made! And one day Jonathan comes home from work to find Steve lazing around on the couch with Billy, the both of them in crop tops and short exercise shorts, and Jonathan knows this is nothing good. Because there’s a bag next to the couch and Jonathan thinks maybe he should just turn back around and try to hang out with Nancy or something because-

“Finally! We’ve been waiting around for you!” Billy calls out, rolling himself off the couch and picking up the bag and oh no.

“Hey Johnny!” Steve calls from the couch and Jonathan is supremely uncomfortable whenever Steve calls him that but he does it so often and he can’t think too much about it bc the bag is being shoved into his chest.

“Put these on.”

Jonathan peeks into the bag and closes it quickly.

“No.” Jonathan whines.

“Shut up just put them on.”

“Why?”

“Because you wear the same sweats every time we work out and they’re gross, now put them on.”

And now the kids are really laughing…. Like REALLY laughing…. Bc the the three boys are wearing crop tops and short exercise shorts as they work out in the living room and Billy took one of his hair ties and tied up Jonathan’s fringe so there’s a little tuft at the top of his head bc: “We’re doing burpees and your hair is gonna get in the way, dummy.”

And it’s just funny.

Jonathan can’t say he agrees. he also can't really laugh while he’s busy wheezing.

But he’s doing well! And he starts getting some muscle and he didn’t think it’d feel this good but like… gym doesn’t totally suck anymore. And he’s not as tired 24/7. And his body like… starts feeling good when he and Billy start to exercise. To the point that when they take a day off he feels bad... almost empty.

And Billy is so proud of him! And yeah, it’s not like Jonathan’s gonna try out for the basketball team or anything, but when guys try to push him around in the hallway now he’s surprisingly sturdy. He plants his feet and he’s practically a rock and guys are confused by it. When guys try to push him against fences they just can’t. People stop bothering him. They murmur about how “the freak got like… strong all of a sudden”

And Billy couldn’t be prouder. Really, he feels like he should do this professionally.

Although… Nancy is pretty confused when she walks into the dark room in search of her boyfriend (who is absolutely fed up with her nonsense of not listening to him when the light says to stay out) and she hugs him from behind and asks: “Uh… what’s that?”

Bc Jonathan is developing all the pictures they’ve taken and… well…

“Who took those?” She asks, grabbing for them no matter how much Jonathan protests that you’re gonna ruin them, be careful

“Uh… Billy took them.”

“Billy? Hargrove? Took pictures of you… shirtless? And flexing?”

Jonathan’s about to melt to the floor in embarrassment. Nancy is giggling.

“Did you guys take them for me, or what?”

Jonathan’s head is in his hands. He’s gonna die.

“Y’know how I told you we’ve been working out?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“He wanted pictures to... document the progress. He gets a power trip off of it or something.”

“Oh my god, Jonathan, are you wearing a crop top in this one?!”

Jonathan is absolutely going to die.

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radioactivepeasant · 4 years

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Fic Prompts: Folklore Friday

This is actually an unfinished short story that I wrote three years ago. So you may notice that it’s a little different from my current writing style in some ways. It’s been edited a wee bit before posting, mostly proofreading stuff, but this is an urban fantasy short I was working on years back about a young man who accidentally becomes king of the goblins. He really really does not want to be king of the goblins.

He never should have taken the detour that night: that was the source of all his troubles.

Work had been brutal, with a grand total of ten patients either screaming over the phone about the charge for their appointment, or trying to convince him that the doctor had approved a kind of medicine that he most certainly had not prescribed. Of course, since he was “just a receptionist”, they all assumed they could bully him into agreeing with whatever they wanted. Admittedly, by the time he had clocked out for the day, Seth Jefferson Jr. had had just about all the frustration he could take.

All he really wanted to do was go home, sit on the couch, and not talk to anyone for the next three hours. So when he spotted five or six scowling young men congregating around the only streetlight on his normal route home, he decided to take the path of least resistance. Seth had never cut through the ratty, overgrown park before, but it would only add a few minutes to his commute. It seemed like a better idea than trying to navigate around the men up ahead, at least. He hopped the fence and continued on his way, hands in his pockets.

Seth kicked through a pile of leaves and discarded beer cans, wrinkling his nose. Midsummer Park had been a very nice place once, when he was young. It hadn’t been the most popular destination, but there had been a certain charm to the way the flowers had been planted in spirals around the tree trunks. The flowers were gone, now. Nobody had bothered to do any landscaping there for years, and the plants grew as they pleased now.

Seth pulled his coat a little closer to his neck, shivering. The park was quiet, save for the soft chirps of crickets and the occasional frog. His own footsteps sounded unbearably loud as he walked, as if he was trespassing. He could not shake the feeling that someone or something was watching him. He hoped it wasn’t the men from the sidewalk.

The toe of his sneaker met the thin stalk of a Clitocybe nuba with a barely audible plop. Seth glanced down at the mushroom, then caught sight of a large, ugly toad watching him from the shelter of another mushroom a few inches away. Gross.

There was a whole ring of the fungus, extending perhaps ten feet in diameter. Some might have thought of old legends and superstitions and walked around it, but Seth had no time for fairytales. Cold and annoyed at having to go out of his way, he stepped over the mushroom he’d kicked and moved on through the center of the circle. That was a mistake.

Instantly, Seth knew that something was terribly wrong. His feet were frozen to the dying grass as though they’d grown roots. His arms hung heavy at his sides, coated in an icy numbness from his shoulders to his fingertips. Panic gripped his lungs, and he strained to breathe. His eyes could still move, and he cast them about wildly, looking for the source of his paralysis.

The toad who had been sitting at the edge of the mushroom ring hopped forward with slow, squelching motions before coming to rest at Seth’s feet. Its eyes shone an uncanny gold, and then before Seth’s eyes, it began to change.

The toad grew in size until it was near the height of a large dog, then it straightened to stand on its back legs. The toadskin fell away like a discarded poncho, and left the most preposterous figure Seth had ever seen.

It was covered from its head to its cloven hooves in short, coarse hair or fur, most of which was covered by a very ugly embroidered tunic and breeches. Long, tangled hair hung down around the person’s shoulders, sprouting from a skull that sported horns. Horns of all things! Seth registered all this in silence, mostly owing to the fact that he was not able to open his mouth.

“Well well!” the strange figure said, and Seth’s heart skipped a beat at the eerie whispery sound. “Not many humans get stuck in these anymore! I wonder who we’ve got to thank for that? Your internet? Probably your internet.”

They leaned down to peer into Seth’s eyes. “How old are you? Twenty-two? Twenty-four? Old enough to know better. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to walk through a fairy ring?”

You’re kidding me. Seth thought. Fairies? As in pixies and flowers and little glittery wings on kids’ dolls? Yeah right. This guy looks more like a demon.

As if they’d read the human’s thoughts, the satyr-like figure snorted, twitching their pointed ears.

“Now don’t tell me you thought all fairies were dainty little girls wearing flower petals? Human exaggeration: utterly ridiculous.”

Seth decided that he had to be hallucinating this. He’d probably slipped on one of those empty beer cans and struck his head on a rock or something. Now he was dreaming up some pseudo-mythological weirdness. Might as well play along until he woke up, right?

Seth’s more logical side pointed out that there was no evidence that he’d taken a fall of any kind, but Seth was not prepared to acknowledge that the satyr existed. Neither was he prepared to follow the line of reasoning that said the satyr might be a figment of his imagination, and that he might be standing in a field staring at nothing.

“Fairies, huh?” he croaked. He was a little surprised that his mouth was able to move at all, as it had been stuck shut only moments before. He coughed, and swallowed a few times in an attempt to strengthen his voice.

“I’m guessing that saying I don’t believe in fairies isn’t going to make you fall down dead.” he said dryly.

The satyr performed an odd little caper and cackled.

“No indeed! I don’t know why that idea caught on, but it’s not true.” They paused, and glanced slyly at Seth out of the corner of their eye. “In fact, saying I don’t believe in fairies usually results in a goblin being born.”

Abruptly the look of amusement dulled into something closer to flat annoyance. “There’s been quite a population boom in the Umbralands recently, as a matter of fact. You humans should stop telling your young that we aren’t real.”

This struck Seth as slightly amusing, but he said nothing. Whether he was dreaming, hallucinating, or actually experiencing this -- which had to be impossible. Fairies and Goblins had no place in modern, rational society! -- he’d been standing in the mushroom circle far too long. Seth needed to get home!

“I was never the fairytale type,” he said shortly, “Exactly what happens now?”

He hoped his tone conveyed what his frozen body language could not: that he was tired, hungry, and not in the mood to put up with any magical monkeyshines from this decidedly odd figure who had so rudely interrupted his Friday evening.

The satyr studied him a moment, as if they were trying to measure the man’s personality with their eyes alone. They paced with an odd, rollicking gait, whistling merrily through Their teeth.

They looked jolly enough, but there was something about them that made Seth’s chest tighten with a kind of fearful caution. Apparently, his body knew something he didn’t, and was classifying the satyr as a threat.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that things like satyrs just weren’t supposed to exist. There was a certain level of aporia spreading through his mind, suppressing his thoughts and reactions until there was nothing left but an unending hum and an anxious awareness of what was happening around him.

“What should we do with you?” the satyr mused, beginning to pace a loping circle around Seth.

“In the past, we used to set impossible tasks for interlopers. Or, I could keep you here, dancing uncontrollably for a year and a day or until someone figured out you were missing and called your true name. But that’s all pretty standard fare.”

They came to a stop just behind Seth’s left shoulder, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Seth wished he could move, even just his arms so that he could protect the vulnerable stalk of veins and vertebrae.

Come on, Seth, he tried to reason with himself, It’s a goat-person. Not a vampire. It probably won’t drink your blood. But then again, Seth didn’t know anything about goat-people. Who was to say it wouldn’t try to eat him? It -- he? they? -- had been pretty menacing thus far.

He heard the satyr take a deep breath, then out of the corner of his eye he saw them walk around to stand in front of him again. They were smiling, and right away Seth decided he didn’t much like the look of that smile.

“I’ll tell you what, human. Since it’s late, and you’re probably tired, let’s do this: if you guess my name, I’ll sweep this under the rug and we can both pretend it never happened.”

Oh that just screamed “suspicious”. Even if he wasn’t familiar with a lot of folktales, Seth knew Rumplestiltskin, and he had a bad feeling about this seemingly-innocuous guessing game. Despite his better judgment, however, it seemed like this might be the only way out of this stupid mushroom ring.

“What’s the catch?” he rasped.

The satyr blinked slowly, then shrugged. “I suppose if you fail, I’ll get to set an impossible task for you after all,” they said innocently.

Seth muttered some choice words under his breath and stared very hard at the goat-person. “How many guesses do I get?” he asked shrewdly.

“I’m feeling generous. I’ll say five.”

Noticing Seth’s disgusted expression, the creature bared surprisingly sharp teeth in a slightly aggressive smile and leaned close.

“Just be glad I picked guess my name and not a game of riddles. You don’t look like you’d be very good at those.”

Well, that much was true, but Seth wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of hearing it confirmed. He racked his brain for bizarre and fantastical names. Rumplestiltskin could be dismissed out of hand, at least, as could most of the Tolkien-esque names that presented themselves to him after a few moments.

“Is it Mephistopheles?” he asked first.

“No. It’s a good name though, I’ll keep it in mind if I ever change mine.”

“Fine.” Seth squinted and looked for another. “Pan?”

The satyr narrowed their eyes. “It’s because of the hooves, right? That’s profiling and I resent it.”

Well, safe to say “Pan” was not their name. Seth tried hard to think and guessed again.

“Wormwood?”

“Okay,” the other answered with gritted teeth, “Now you’re trying to insult me.”

“Hey, I’m working with what I have, here!” Seth protested. “What about, er, Fauna?”

The satyr didn’t look at all impressed. “Well that’s not very creative, is it? A bit more feminine than I prefer, too. Try again.”

Seth’s remaining guess met with similar results. Frustration bubbled up inside him. It had been rigged from the start. He’d known that, of course, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still get angry about it. Seth was at least glad that his face was still mobile. He twisted his lips into a vicious scowl, which he directed at the smug satyr.

“Well that’s my five guesses, used up. You might as well tell me what it was,” he growled.

“Of course, where are my manners?” said the satyr sarcastically. They swept into a low bow with a flourish of their hand. “They call me Chicanery. Lord Chicanery Black, if you require a title and surname.”

Seth was furious. “And how would I have been able to guess something like that?” he demanded.

“You wouldn’t,” Chicanery answered carelessly, “That’s the whole point. But while we’re doing introductions, what’s your name, human?”

Seth nearly said his name, but at the last second changed his mind. He had no idea why, but it seemed like a bad idea to just casually give the creature his full name. Was it something he’d read once?

“Jefferson.” he answered. Chicanery nodded.

He cracked his bulging knuckles and leaned on Seth’s shoulder in a very irritating fashion.

“Well, Jeff, you failed the test. So now I get to set a task for you.”

“No.”

Chicanery looked astonished, as though it had never actually occurred to him that someone would refuse to play along. For just a moment, a flash of anger crackled -- quite literally crackled as if it were a spark of electricity -- in his eyes, and a chill ran up Seth’s spine. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to antagonize the creature.

“Impossible task, or stay here in the ring until you die of either starvation or old age. Your choice.” he said coldly.

“That isn’t fair.”

He knew it was childish, but Seth couldn’t help pointing it out. He had a job, a life, and none of this made any sense at all.

“If life was fair, I wouldn’t be stuck here guarding an abandoned dance ring,” Chicanery answered dryly. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, you’ll be rewarded if you actually pull it off. You need a car? Or a better job?” he stared pointedly at Seth’s scrubs.

Seth squinted at Chicanery, trying to gauge just how much of the odd being’s words were truth. It wasn’t as if he had a precedent for this to measure it against. The promise of a car was tempting, though he didn’t know how he’d afford the gas. No, best not to get ahead of himself. He didn’t know what Chicanery wanted him to do yet. Still, he was more than ready to get out of this fairy ring.

“What exactly did you have in mind?” he asked warily.

Looking immensely pleased with himself, Chicanery hopped back a pace and spread his arms wide.

“See? Was that so hard?” he asked. Then he leaned in again. “You’re going to help me run a little errand. It’s just some housekeeping. And by “housekeeping”, I mean you’re going to help me usurp the throne of Unter Kobold, king of the Umbralands. I assume you have a gun, or can get one?”

“What.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Chicanery held out one of his calloused, hairy hands and Seth found that he could move again. “Do we have a deal, or am I leaving you here?”

Well, when you put it that way, Seth thought bitterly, and he gingerly shook the satyr’s hand.

It felt like being grabbed by a pinecone. Something stung his skin and the human pulled his hand away with a hiss of pain. A shimmering mark in the shape of a leaf curled outward across his palm with the same faint crackle he’d heard before.

“You’re free to go now, Jefferson,” Chicanery said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We start planning tomorrow.”

The moment Seth stepped out of the mushroom ring, the satyr was gone. In his place, the ugly toad from before sat, watching him. Seth shuddered and hurried home as quickly as he could. As much as he desperately wanted to convince himself that none of that had been real, he could not deny that he’d only lost five minutes by the time he got home, and the leaf-mark on his palm did not wash away.

Seth kicked off his shoes and did not bother to change into pajamas as he fell into bed. He could only hope that the satyr would forget about him after a few days.

He awoke the next morning to the sound of someone moving around in his kitchen. Seth felt around for the baseball bat he kept next to his bed, then eased his bedroom door open. Now he could hear voices.

“-well we can’t do that. No no, that’s much too much pepper. See? It looks weird now.”

Something gurgled and croaked, but Seth couldn’t make out whether or not it was words. He was more concerned with the fact that the first voice had belonged to Chicanery Black.

Seth marched into the kitchen, bat upraised, to find the satyr and a grotesque little creature that appeared to be a cross between a crocodile and a sugar glider sitting on his shoulder. They were bent over the stove, observing eggs frying in a pan. Chicanery turned with a grin.

“Ah! Morning, partner. Collywobble and I were just debating on how much pepper humans usually put in their eggs. How much do you put in?”

Flabbergasted, Seth’s mouth worked soundlessly for a few minutes before he gasped, “None! And how did you even get in here? Don’t you guys have to be, like, invited or something?”

“That’s vampires,” Chicanery shoved a forkful of boiling hot egg into his mouth and spoke around it. “Which don’t exist, by the way.”

“Of course,” Seth muttered sarcastically. “Because that’s much weirder than a satyr frying eggs in my kitchen.”

Chicanery did not grace this with an answer. He shoveled the other egg out onto a plate in an ugly lump, and handed a fork to Seth.

“Today,” he said, “You’re going to go to your public library and look up everything humans ever wrote about goblins and gargoyles and how to kill them.”

Seth seriously considered making a snide remark about homework, but decided not to push his luck. If the satyr had no trouble getting into his house, there was no telling what else he could do. He groaned and set his baseball bat down so he could eat.

“You weren’t going to stay here, were you?” he asked, gagging on the amount of pepper in the rapidly cooling egg. “I mean, is this going to be a regular thing?”

Chicanery glanced at the diminutive creature on his shoulder and back at Seth.

“I’ll stay until the task is completed.” he answered, confirming Seth’s worst fears. He leaned casually against the counter and raised a hand to scratch Collywobble behind the ears. “You know, you’re taking all this remarkably well. The last human I tried to recruit went stark raving mad, you know. They had to cart him away after he went goblin hunting in a supermarket. After an experience like that, it’s nice to find a human with a good, stretchy mind.”

Collywobble made a wet, barking sound in what was presumably agreement. Seth made a face and gestured to it.

“Okay, what is that?” he sighed.

“She,” Chicanery corrected, “Is Collywobble. She’s a goblin, and you’d better get used to her because you’ll be seeing a lot more of them.”

“Why?” Seth asked, already certain he would not like the answer.

Chicanery looked at him as if he’d lost his senses.

“One does not simply overthrow a goblin king without minions!”

Collywobble snuffled agreeably at this, then hopped down to the table. Seth decided that this was altogether too much weirdness for one morning, and that he’d be better off at the library. He stood and opened the refrigerator, looking for a stiff drink to chase away the taste of burnt and over-peppered egg.

Something like a winged porcupine held up a three-toed paw in greeting and he slammed the door.

“Why.” was all he managed to say.

Chicanery opened the refrigerator again and brightened.

“Oh! Widdershins!” he said, “So you found the place after all. What do our friends at the armory say?”

“I’m done.” Seth threw his hands into the air and left the kitchen. This was ignored by Chicanery, Collywobble, and Widdershins.

After discovering one more goblin in his clothes hamper and one in the closet, Seth threw on his shoes and stormed out of the house, locking it behind him. It likely wouldn’t do any good at all, seeing as Chicanery and his minions had just sort of materialized to begin with, but it gave him a slight sense of satisfaction.

#folklore friday #original fiction #original characters #original story #urban fantasy #fairytales #fairy rings #short story #long post #Chicanery Black. He's a brat.#Seth has so many annoyances ahead of him #fic prompts #writing prompts #someday i might finish this but i have no idea what was supposed to come next

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years

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Mount Everest Ain't Got Shit On Us (Fezco x fem!reader, Part 1.)

Description: You were always told that your life will be as you wish it to be if you'll study enough. That it will pay off if you work hard. And some people were given you like the scary example of what will happen when you don't obey. But sometimes it feels good to disobey.

A/N: Man, Fez is just my main bitch from Euphoria. I just adore him the most. His breakfast is consistent with Respecting Women Juice™️ and Keeping His Shit Together Juice™️. He might not be the brightest man around, but I think he's gentle and caring. Like hell.

A/N: The reader is around 17 to 18 years old, not further explained, attending high school. Rue and the gang are around the same age and since Fezco's age was never actually clarified, let's go with 23.

A/N: This takes place in a universe where Jules was away for a while, but after a few months she came back to Rue.

Warnings: Talking about drugs, drug addiction, smoking, drinking alcohol. You know. Basically the normal lives of today's kids.

Word count: 3 K +/-

Masterlist and declaration: H E R E

Ever since you were a kid, the adults always told you that you can be whatever you would like to be. When you were five, they lied to you - they told you that you can be a pirate or a princess, or an astronaut or a zoo animal keeper for that matter.

When you were ten, they usually started to be critical to you just as you started as well. You slowly realized that being a plumber or a social worker is maybe the place you were supposed to be, you started to base your imaginations off the reality.

When you were fifteen, it all came together - you knew what should you do, what is off your limits and what stays in your boundaries. You could still be something even if you weren't the smartest or the funniest in your class, or the best of bureaucracy.

And when you go to college you most likely know what you'll do with your life - that you would be a nurse, a teacher, a biologist or you know that you will not go to college at all. Sometimes the young people didn't even continue to college. Sometimes it just doesn't work out. It simply happens.

But they were the other ones - the people who weren't destined to have a normal life. Those who dropped out of high school and just started to live by their own rules and who tried their best to go through life without some bigger problems.

Your mums usually told you not to be dumb, not to hang out around these people, stay out of their presence and ignoring them as well as you could. But some of them weren't that bad, they weren't the garbage of the society as your mums told you.

Every one of them had a reason to be as they were - usually it was a reality-based reason, something that made a perfect sense when explained, a serious social issue. You just had to ask them - some of them became gang members to help their family financially, others had committed prostitution, some of them were part of the black market with guns. Most of their fates circled around money. Money, the thing you need to survive in this cruel, cruel world.

Love meant a lot to those who wanted it. But money mattered way more. You needed money to survive - it was to survive or to be killed. No other options were remaining.

You lived in a small town since you were born. Everyone knew everything about everyone. It was just as simple as that. It took you by surprise when your parents told you that you'll be moving out of your birth town in the next few weeks to some strange suburb on the other side of America.

You heard that it actually snows there during winter which was a pleasant change from the hotness of Arizona. Also, it was nearer to the bigger cities of the United States - and you were pumped to visit them with your mum and siblings or cousins. To shop, to see something new, to actually get some experience.

“It isn't that bad. I like this place.” - Your little brother Cal called out as he stepped out of the truck. You carefully took the box out, almost tripped because of you untied old Converse shoes you still wore even after they tore apart near the base. You had an old, rainbow t-shirt on, it basically hung on your body because of how oversized it was, it covered your Adidas shorts completely.

“New boys. New girls. Fresh start. No history. I love it,” - Francis, your older sister, said out loud. She came out of the closet four years ago and since then, she has dated numerous girls and boys. She was going to attend local college but you were sure that sooner or later, she will introduce you to another love of her life. - “And what about you, my little bean? You feel comfortable out here?” - She hung an arm around your shoulder and you gave her a nod.

You weren't exactly the happiest about moving out of the town you have known your whole life so well, but both of your siblings were right. The neighborhood seemed to be quiet, safe, clean and nice, just an ideal place to base a family life in. Bikes were thrown around, the kid's screams of amusement could be heard just as the birds sang and the wind around you felt wet and yet warm in a nice way.

“Come on, you golden trio. You are unpacking your things for what seems like a whole eternity! We brought some pizza and Thai if you want some!” - Your mom shouted out of the front door with a huge smile, holding the plastic bag as proof for you.

“Go.” - Your sis patted your shoulder and got into the truck to shut the back door completely, preventing stealing. You did not wait for her, you looked at your legs, how the fresh green grass breaks under your feet and the soles of your shoes, being careful about not fall down.

Your mum always told you to tie your shoelaces but you never really listened since you were a small kid. It resulted in a lot of falling down, bruises, abrasion and you crying loud. But you learned how to walk with your shoelaces undone. It was your own choice, after all, you chose not to tie them - and they told you all along that your life depends on what you want and what you don't want.

Your parent always told you how easy it actually is to live in your generation - that you can use cellphones, that you can use the internet, that they are taking care of everything you could probably need.

You thought about it a lot - and you came to an opinion. It was not easy at all. To live in your age. It felt more like surviving than living for real. The drugs were easily accessible for the younglings - even your big sis was a serious stoner back in your hometown and you knew that it will not take long her to find the local dealer and become friends with him. The cyberbullying was a serious issue that made a lot of people's life worse, the bullies could easily find your personal information, your old photos, they could make fun or a living nightmare of you and your life. And when your nudes leaked out? Holy shit, you were fucked like hell.

Yeah. You were a high-schooler. But let's face it - almost everyone who tried to make a move with someone or who was in a relationship had sent a nude at some point in their life. It was some kind of a norm for the children your age.

You were constantly in danger thanks to the great internet and that was a fact. The adults tried to teach you how to behave on the internet... But truly, did any of you actually give a crap? Every one of us took it as bullshit, not taking them too seriously. Who was actually safe around you? Drugs, alcohol, sex, porn, cigarettes, money everywhere around you.

It was so easy to become corrupted. Just like everyone around you.

You were not that innocent at all as well - your big sis was really popular back in your hometown - she was truly smart, she was funny, she used drugs and smoked, drank regularly. She was invited basically to every party in the town. Some of them were wild, some of them were pretty muted thanks to weed and ecstasy which was always distributed there.

You smoked at the parties and did some shots - that wasn't so bad. Kids your age did a way worse thing at those parties.

Your mum and dad knew that you and your sis attended some parties but they didn't know that there were drugs and alcohol present. You were the Sunday church raised children after all (which didn't mean that your parents discriminated or turn their backs to their oldest child when she said she's into girls a lot), they trusted you.

They often laughed that they have done it too. Sure, you smiled usually, but did you see a girl who is dozed off after Lexauryne, have you felt the actual fear about her life? Have you ever seen what shit Valium or heroin does to someone? Have your friend almost jumped off the roof when they took too much LSD? But you never said anything out loud.

You have seen things. But everyone did. It wasn't easy to be a teenager in your age.

Every one of your friends slowly became one of those types your parents always warned you about - at least a part of them was just like the people they talked about to scare you off. Maybe you were one of those people as well. What could you know?

You had your dinner with the typical witty sense of humor of your parents and the usual bickering between you, your little bro and older sis. You felt safe at those moments, away from reality, just chilling with your fam.

The next morning was your first actual day of school after a weekend of moving in. Your dad went to his new workplace for the first time and your sis and your mum stayed home to continue with unpacking.

"You should get up or you seriously will not go to school on time." - Your mum peeked into your room and you just mumbled something in response when Fran took your bed with her monster attack as you called, tickling you, kissing you into your hair and laughing along with you.

"Get your lazy ass off the bed, ma's right. I'll ride you to school." - She laughed and laid next to you, looking you in the face. You smiled at her, smoothed your hair and yawned. - "Ah shit, you thought about that again, didn't you? You'll be just fine. This is a good neighborhood, ma and pa told us yesterday. Nobody will shove a knife on your neck and threaten you to do drugs or take your money. Nobody will take your pics while you pee. I swear. You'll be alright, baby girl." - She kissed your forehead tenderly.

Fran always said that you worry about too many things. And she often said that you're way more adult than she'll ever be. But she didn't forget to mention that it's harming you a lot in a way.

"So that's how you make girls fall for you. I see it now." - You teased her. She took a pillow and smacked your head with it. But she laughed. Then Fran stood up and stopped at your door to take a last good look at her baby sister. - "Get your lazy ass up and have some good breakfast. We have something about forty-five minutes before you, I and the last shithead would have to go. Go get 'em, tiger!" - She yelled and clapped her hands, letting you alone.

You got the smallest room - Fran demanded the one on the second floor, saying it was for her study purposes. She lied. It was the only room with a balcony and she needed to smoke weed somewhere. Your brother had the second room because he could be a little brat and a pain in the ass sometimes. So you and your parents had the room on the first floor.

But you liked it. It was easier to make it comfortable and you could open a big window to look out on the street. And you had a big bed nonetheless so you were just fine about your new room.

You better did what Fran said - took some of your other shorts from your wardrobe, then you took out your favorite Lion King oversized t-shirt with Rafiki printed on it and you completed with a big ass hoodie which reaches up to the middle of your thighs. You put on some high socks on because you loved the look of them rolled down to your Converse shoes.

You cleaned your face and brushed your teeth and hair, putting it into a bun which was all over the place as always, then you tried to make your face more appealing with some eyeliner and mascara but in your eyes, you looked like a mess. You put your old, torn apart but trustworthy backpack over your shoulder and took off to the kitchen. Everyone was already eating, dad reading the news on his phone as he always used to.

"I don't want bacon!" - Cal yelled almost frantically and that almost freaked the living hell out of you. He loved bacon. What was his deal?

"What is it, young man?" - Mum asked and looked at him. Thanks to Fran's shit-eating grin you knew that she's the one responsible.

“I must declare that I am a proud vegetarian from now on.” - Cal said with a serious face and you just burst out of laughing. Cal was always like that. Smart pants. But he never was socially awkward. He just used some words that were too complicated for a boy his age.

“Oh really?” - You mum asked with a surprised face, watching all of you with her witty jokes prepared face. - “And why is that? Y/N will love to have some more bacon.” - And so it was. Another three slices to your empty, hungry stomach. Maybe Cal's sudden vegetarianism had some plusses to it.

“Fran told me that it will make me more appealing in front of the girls. And I am a ladies man.” - Cal told with a serious face and that was the moment Fran’s grinning face bursted out of laughter as well.

“You're also only thirteen years old, pal. No girls until you're at least sixteen. But you do you.” - Your dad said all of a sudden. You loved them so much it sometimes took you by a surprise.

Then, when the breakfast was over, you went out to your sister’s car. Your dad had one and Fran was given your mum’s car. Your ma said shell take the bus to work so it's ok for Fran to have her own car to do her business with.

“Okay, shithead one and shithead two. Are you ready for your first venture to the big, scary world?” - Fran joked and waves to ma when you were doing your seatbelt on the co-driver’s side.

“Bring it.” - You said, turning the radio on. It was a station you didn't know, some new hip hop songs. But it was enjoyable, so you just let it play, rolling the window down, leaning your crossed elbows into it. You were aware that your hair will be even messier after that, but you wanted to feel the actual atmosphere and energy of your new hometown.

You felt free from your burdens once again - the hip hop was almost screaming out of your car, the air felt cold between your hair and the sun shined on your skin gently. You were watching the new, strange people who lived there, walking in schools direction, groups of friends, some alone kids, some kids were riding bikes.

It seemed to be like your old home yet it didn't feel like it. Something was just out of its place and weren’t sure if you can put that thing back.

The car slowly drove next to some gas station or a small shop, you couldn't tell. But something caught your eye - a boy standing with his back turned to the car, in a long sky blue shirt with some clouds painted on it, jeans and a seriously short hair which color you couldn't figure out. You stuck your head out of the window, inhaling that view until you could.

Something drawn your eyes in his direction, something told you that you should watch him. He was smoking, that was for sure, and moving his hands, probably talking with someone.

The boy slowly disappeared because of some other building but you would swear that he turned in your direction as well. The air you were holding in slowly came out of your lungs as you slowly leaned to your seat. Francis was watching you but remained silent, just smoked her cigarette with her right wrist out of her window.

When the car stopped, Cal was almost immediately out of it, saying goodbye to you and Fran, but you remained there, leaning more and more down, trying to be invisible for the others.

“Chop chop, out of the car. You will have a great first day at your new school and you will find some friends.” - Fran told with a smile, smoothing your naked knee with her palm.

“How can you know?” - Your gaze fell on the big hall leading to the main entrance, to all of those strange people there. That didn't feel right. You were scared for your life - new surroundings, new people, new feelings. How many of them tried some drugs? Will you even find someone to be friends with? The feeling inside you felt like exploding, the unsureness, the unknown, the fear.

“Because I know your little bratty ass since the fucking day youve been born, dumbass.” - She laughed and undid your seatbelt, opening the door for you. - “Show those bastards who you are and that you are not afraid.”

And with that, you got up and watched as Fran waved you and took off in her car. And you felt lost.

#fezco #fezco x reader #euphoria #imagine #series #drug addiction #drug dealing #dont do it #it will not do you any good #rue bennett #rue #jules

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fatgirlsguidetodating · 4 years

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My bullying hell.

NOTE: I know this isn’t a dating piece (I’m working on a couple of blog posts at the moment though) but I went walking near my old school, which has been demolished for housing although there’s a fight to make it parkland instead, and it brought back memories. I know most of us get bullied for something. For me that was often my weight but in this case it was more. I think this is why I can be so insecure, and sometimes too sensitive and needy. I contemplated changing initials on the off chance any found my blog or twitter but decided not to. Not once did they display an iota of regret. Even as adults they acted like mean girls do you know what, fuck them.

I know that for many people high school can be hell in parts. I know that many kids have been bullied in school. For me that part was almost the entire year of 8th grade, a year so horrible that I regularly contemplated killing myself, cried myself to sleep most nights, woke in the morning crying because God (despite my not believing in God) hadn't answered my prayers to let me just die, and just generally was completely and utterly miserable and totally alone. I remember one day, with my usual puffy red eyes in the morning, thinking how if it were possible that we only get a certain quota of tears in our lifetime that I must surely have used up a shitload of them. I remember mum, in tears with me, having to practically drag me to school. I remember countless meetings with the school social worker, the year co-ordination, the vice principal and mum. All this was because it had been decreed by the popular girl of the class that I was persona non grata. Nobody was allowed to talk to me in class or out of class- unless it was to say something cruel like about how I was fat. That was allowed. Tripping me over was allowed. Knocking my bag or books over so I had to pick everything up was allowed. Pulling my school dress or skirt up to laugh at my fat arse in front of the boys was allowed. But nice things? No.

There were only 2 people who went against this. On one occasion one of the boys who I had also gone to primary school with asked me if I was ok? Such small words. I managed to nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. "Hang in there," he said. "It'll blow over." I had to hide my face behind my then long hair so he- and nobody- saw my tears. That one simple act of kindness meant more than he will ever know.

The second was when one of the girls I used to hang around with before the decree returned a book she borrowed from me. Her little sister had made a mess of the book. She offered to buy me another one to replace it. I said it was fine. I didn't need to be hated anymore than I was. She left me a note inside the book apologising and signing it with xoxo. I remember thinking how hollow it was given she hadn't spoken to me in a few months. But at the same time I appreciated it.

How did this happen? In an absolutely ridiculous fashion.

Something mean was written about me on a table: it said, in essence, my name is X and 1) I want to be TC’s girlfriend (ironic as he was my best friend), 2) GW’sbest friend , 3) I never have showers and I think there MAY have been a fourth one but I can't for the life of me remember what it said. I think I blocked a lot of that year out. My minds way of protecting myself I guess, like people often do for traumatic events.

As an adult I can say they were relatively benign statements but as a 14 year old they weren't. The thing was the popular girl, LA (now LH) decided that I had written them about myself. (Seriously!) Her reasoning: it looked "kinda" like my handwriting (it didn't) and it looked like it was written by my pen (one owned by something like half the class including, ironically, her). Interestingly a few months later one of the popular girls told me that she had seen her coming out of that classroom at one of the break tones not long before it was discovered. I'll never know who did it but the simple fact that the popular girl said it was me meant that naturally the class agreed with her.

So when she said nobody was to talk to me they all just did it. Not a single person stood up for me. I have felt lonely at many, many times in my life (haven't we all) but the loneliness of that one moment will never ever be forgotten. Even now I feel literally sick as I remember that moment. It was like one of those movies where you wake up from a dream and everyone's gone, and you are all alone. Or a dream where you suddenly become invisible and no matter how much you scream and jump up and down and wave your hands you remain invisible.

I had hoped that maybe my friends would have stuck up for me. I would even have taken them doing it not publicly but privately if they were too scared to disobey or too ashamed to be my friend in front of the popular girl and her best friend JB (now JI) my two tormentors. Like still hanging out with me at lunch and recess. The popular girl wouldn't know after all. But no. Even the girls I had hung with pretty much since the start of school when we'd made friends with me followed and I was suddenly cut off from everyone, completely and utterly alone....

There are some things that stand out from the next eight or so months, things beyond the pain and loneliness. Moments where the bullying was worse than the usual daily taunts. Like the time they soaked a bunch of tampons in water so they became nice and big and ran around the corner and threw them all at me. Because I found a spot to sit and have my lunch all alone day in day out. Technically, being at the front side of the school, near the road, it was out of bounds but I didn't care. On rainy days I got a bit wet but I didn't care- I even thought well maybe I'll get pneumonia and even if I don't get lucky enough to die from it I could get some time off school, away from my living hell. Sometimes I'd eat quickly- prompting comments from the girls about how fat people like me ate too quick- and then go to the library to hide in a corner and read. Being a bookworm over those eight or so months I got through even more books that I ever imagined I could.

I was trying to eat healthy (I was on a diet which, lets face it, I have been on for most of my life!) and I often had those little tubs of two fruits in my lunch. The girls would sneak around and laugh at my lunch. I'd be tripped over, had leftover bits of food thrown at me, was called fat and ugly so many times that even now I say it about myself and actually mean it. One day after PE I discovered my watch had been stolen from the box we put all our special items in. It was a Mickey Mouse watch I got from Disneyland that played music. I was devastated. These girls that I speak of were- surprisingly- not my two tormentors, the instigator of it all, but my former friends. I think that these girls, and the few boys who sometimes hung out with them, were actually crueler to me than the popular girl and her friend. I could never understand that. I still don't.

For almost eight months my mum battled with the school to have me moved to another form but they kept saying that the numbers were at maximum in each form. I offered at one point to take a lie detector test to prove I hadn't written those things. I spent way too many hours in the social workers office in tears.

At one point all of a sudden one of the boys started being nice to me. I lapped up the kindness, kind of like how an abused dog will still always want their masters approval. Every kind word was like a balm on my soul. He'd come and sit with me sometimes at lunch and we would talk and laugh. It was only when someone slipped a note in my locker- I suspect the girl who returned the book- telling me that he had been given a dare by the two tormentors to get me to sleep with him. Needless to say the next time he came to see me I said to him "I know what you're doing. I know it's a dare and you've been telling them everything I said!" (Probably one of the only times in my life I stood up for myself.) He didn't even look ashamed or guilty, he laughed and said "well I wouldn't sleep with a fat four eyes like you for no reason. You are pretty dumb for believing it." Perhaps the saddest thing was the fact that I contemplated not telling him I knew. Oh I wouldn't have gone so far as to sleep with him knowing what I knew but to just continue the ruse for awhile because he provided the only conversation in school hours, the only kindness, in all the pain and loneliness. But, ultimately, I knew being alone was better than living a lie.

My persona non grata status didn't extend to just my class. All the popular kids knew not to talk to me and to make fun of me or even spit on me if I walked past. One of them even tripped me up on the top of the stairs so I went flying down them, landing on my side so hard it was bruised and hard to breathe for ages. I never told on them. I knew that "dobbing" would just make my life worse. Though how they could have made it worse than that I will never know.

The worst moment was when I actually did attempt to kill myself. This is something I haven't ever told a single soul. My mum only found out I had wanted to kill myself a few months ago- not that I attempted it a couple of times- and she was devastated. But I never told her at the time because I saw how much it pained her to see me so unhappy. I couldn't burden her anymore. The night it happened was a Sunday night, the night before school started again for the new term. I was pretty naive. It was pre-Internet which, in retrospect is probably a good thing because had Google existed back then I would have found a way to do it. I took a packet and a half of Panadol. I thought surely that was enough. It wasn't. Not only did I not die, but I simply woke up the next morning feeling like absolute shit.

The turning point came about seven months in. A chance encounter in the library with one of the girls I'd gone to primary school with and I told her about what my life was like. She was horrified and said I could come and hang with her friends sometimes. Not all the time, she said, because they wouldn't like that but sometimes. I probably should have thought it a strange offer but needless to say at the time a little bit was better than nothing. So maybe two or three times a week at lunch mainly I would go and hang with them. I didn't really say much. I had always been shy but my ordeal had made me even more so. When people came up behind me and stuck crap down the back of my top or yelled "boo fatty four eyes" suddenly I would jump a mile. If I saw one of my two tormentors or any of their friends I would instantly start shaking waiting for what they would do or say this time. They soon learnt they didn't even need to speak, just look at me, and I'd be affected. So when my school friend said to me that I couldn't really hang out with them anymore because the others thought I was stuck up (because I didn't speak much) I didn't feel much emotion. It seemed to me that it was perfectly right. Why WOULDN'T they reject me too? Who would even WANT to be friends with someone like me?

Finally, FINALLY, after eight months battling the school by mum they let me move classes. Not to the form I wanted to go in as by then I had made a couple of friends through my childhood male best friend who lived a few houses up and I had known since we were three and who I spent most weekends and school holidays with along with my brother and his younger sister who were in the same year, but a new one nonetheless.

It was the middle of second period, I think, that I was moved. The class were in the science block so I'm guessing it was a science class but I can't quite remember. The year level co-ordinator took me in there and just said, "X is in this class now. She's been given the class schedule." Of course everyone turned to look at me curiously. I slipped into a seat in the back of the room and put my head down. At the desk next along from me were three girls. At one point they said my name and I looked up and asked "yes?" I was given a withering look. "I wasn't talking to you. X here has the same name as you." I was told.

The next period those three girls asked me to sit with them and asked plenty of questions. But then after lunch they told me they'd spoken to my main tormentor and knew who I was and what I did. Great, I remember thinking, I could never ever leave it behind me!

But, slowly, over the remaining few months in the year I began to make friends. There were four girls in my form who became my friends- to this day one of them remains one of my best friends- and from another form there were another two. The six of them hung around together and, as time went on, I became part of their group. There were another few girls in the form who sometimes came to hang out with us.

I was with two of them (both had the same name and it also coincidentally happened to be the name of my main tormentor) one day walking across the courtyard when my tormentor and her best friend (the girl who had been one of my close friends for years before this all happened and who's friendship with me seemed to threaten my main tormentor for some reason before the table incident) suddenly appeared. Apparently someone had written something in chalk in the girls toilet near the year ten common room (or it may have been year twelve then, I can't remember when the merger happened) about her and I was blamed. One of the girls stood up for me, pointing out there were many with her name including my two new friends. But no. It was definitely about her because it had her last initial or name. She tried to get in my face, telling me she knew it was me and I had mental problems etc but my two new friends basically stood in front of her. They were a bit tough and told her that she'd have to go through them to get to me. She chose to walk away.

Though she did get the popular girls in my class to make extra fun of me for a bit but all of a sudden it was water off a ducks back because I had my new friends. They did try and get them to abandon me, telling them what I had done but I'd already told them my side and all the pain- though I had edited it because it was too raw to tell the whole truth, in all its intricate and painful details that soon- and the attempts failed.

Soon it was summer and I spent much of it with my new friends.

In the next school year my old friends and my tormentors still would make smart comments or something when I walked past but the more I ignored it, the more I showed no reaction, the less they did it though it never totally stopped throughout my whole time at high school.

Teenagers can be cruel and girls I think the cruelest of the bunch. Sure teenage boys can be cruel too but girls are bitchy and that is much worse in my opinion. Boys might have a fight and then it's done with. Girls will just bitch and snipe and make you miserable. My tormentors never said sorry, never acknowledged I didn't do it. I occasionally see their names pop up as comments on mutual friends posts on Facebook and I look at their profiles and see how perfect their lives seem. Both are married, one has two kids, one has one. I wonder, when I see them, how it's fair that they get the perfect life and I don't. There is no sign of karma having ever gone their way for what they did to me. As for the girls who were my friends before the decree, I'm Facebook friends with a couple of them. We never really spoke again at school. But, with school far behind us and time dulling some of the bad memories and letting most people look back at their school days as the halcyon days of youth, and remember the good times not the bad, a couple of them are friends on Facebook. Only one have I ever really caught up with but another two I do talk to sometimes on there.

I do believe that, to this day, it has affected me. Just writing this is affecting me: for instance I'm feeling a bit sick, my hands are a bit shaky, and I feel like I want to have a bit of a cry. (Yes- I still have tears left despite those eight long months. The human body can be, I think, up to 65% water. I swear back then my percentage was much lower because of my nightly crying myself to sleep.) But I feel good having written this, having gotten one of my stories off my chest. Sure there are others in my life I may talk about in the future but this is one that shaped me. For instance I know I can be a bit of a needy friend, wanting to see friends more often, wondering when I haven't heard from them in a certain amount of time if I've been replaced or done something to make them angry or upset. I take things way too personally, am far too sensitive about things said or done, I overthink things. And I have no self-confidence at all. I don't see the good in me. Outside or in. When someone gives me a compliment my first reaction is to laugh at them. Especially if they say something positive about my body. I look at them and I say, "are you blind?"

If you take anything from my story please let it be this: kindness doesn't cost a thing and just a little bit can truly make a major difference in someone's life. Bullying- whether it's a child, teenager or even an adult- can really fuck someone's life up. And words- like fat four eyes- can do just as much damage, in fact I would argue MORE than hands. Words CAN hurt. Words can linger in a person's mind years and years after they have been said. They can affect the way they live their life and choices they make. They can reverberate in a person's brain for years. So please be kind. And if you are lucky enough to have kids teach them that too. Because- especially with the proliferation of social media in our lives- words can lead to people taking their lives. That stupid little childhood singsong retort to insults "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" is a load of utter bullshit. Words- just like actions- can kill. Bullying can kill.

#bullying #mybullyinghell #dontbeabully #itcankill #kindnessmatters

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officialbroski10-blog · 4 years

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i’ll be your ohana(brian kendrick x oc)

a/n: i really could not think of a good title nor will i ever release this

a/n: welp it’s time to publish this. my magnum opus, my passion project that has taken me a year of on and off writing. lots of shit has happened in the span of a year.

•|•|•

PLOT: echo celeste (the oc) meets brian kendrick while she’s sitting on the beach in the middle of the night. upon coming closer, brian is intrigued by echo, and decides to talk to her. they soon find out how much they have in common.

many cameos will be made by various indy wrestlers that you may not know. if that’s the case, look them up online, they’re phenomenal workers!

also this takes place in honolulu, hawaii for some odd reason but oh well

Rating: this part is all fluff and angst

•|•|•

echo celeste was not what one would consider to be normal. she didn’t sleep much, was obsessed with things people took for granted, and could often be found staring at the sky sitting on waikiki beach at times when everyone else would be asleep. she described herself as an occult soul, unsure of her place in the world. on this particular night, the full moon was out, one of her favorite things to see in the sky, which made it just barely bright enough for her to do sketches on the beach.

brian was also not the definition of normal. he was a wrestler, for christ’s sake! he felt that normal society would never understand him, and was still stuck in some sort of emo teen phase. he looked different than most, preferring to let his hair grow out. whenever he was stressed, he found himself walking on waikiki at unholy hours in the night, which coincidentally was the same beach echo frequented.

maybe it was the way the moonlight hit her, but brian was mesmerized by echo. her lavender hair seeming like something straight out of a scifi movie, or like the wings of a fairy. her face scrunched up in concentration made her glasses almost cover up the tip of her nose. Either way, brian just had to talk to this woman, even if she turned out to be a figment of his imagination.

“hey there, whatcha working on?” brian asked, making sure he wouldn’t startle echo. that plan didn’t work.

“jesus fuck you scared me!” echo said in reply, also giggling at the end.

“oh sorry about that,” brian apologized, “i didn’t mean to do that to you! my names brian. brian kendrick. and what do they call you?”

“my full name is echo celeste svensson, but call me echo or echo celeste.” she smirked. “i’m working on a sketch!”

“oh that sounds cool! i’m assuming you’re an artist, then?”

“you would be correct! what do you do for a living?”

brian wasn’t sure if he should say he’s a wrestler. almost everyone who he told about his career had shunned him, saying that wrestling was fake. but he felt strangely at ease with echo, almost as if she had a calming aura about her that told him everything would be alright.

“i-i’m a wrestler. its not the best paying job in the world, nor the most liked job.” he admitted, seeming ashamed of what he did as a living. echo’s eyes almost burst out of her head. she was a huge wrestling fan, and this was one of the first wrestlers she ever met!

“that’s nothing to be ashamed of, brian! maybe i could catch one of your matches sometime. got any coming up soon?” brian’s eyes lit up, like a child on christmas day. nobody had ever shown interest in his line of work!

“uh, yeah, i do, today at 7pm-“

“then you can see me there! so, what brings you out here at 4AM on this friday morning?” echo questioned. it was rare for her to run into anyone on the beach at this hour, let alone anybody interested in what she was doing.

“i had a nightmare, and it helps me clear my mind if i take a walk in the night. i don’t have all my marbles, and when combined with a rough childhood, i get nightmares pretty often, but not normally bad enough to where i have to take a walk to calm myself.” brian obviously was not in a good frame of mind, and echo could sense that. she could relate with what brian was going through. she had an okay childhood, but got bullied all through school, which traumatized her and made her unable to trust most people. she never trusted anyone when she first met them. brian was an exception to this rule.

“hey brian, it’s okay. i got you, bud.” echo said, wrapping a blanket around her and a now-teary eyed brian. “everything will be alright. do you have a place to stay?”

the answer came as a surprise to echo. “not anymore. just got an eviction note and i have to move out all my stuff by noon. i don’t really talk to anyone here on the island, and don’t have any place to stay.”

“oh my god, that’s horrible! well i’ll tell you what: you can stay with me at my place for as long as you need to. you don’t have to chip in to pay for rent, and i can give up my bedroom for you.”

“t-that’s too much, echo! you don’t need to give me a spot to live at! i mean, i don’t deserve this-“ brian was awestruck at this proposition. nobody offered him anything in life, and he had gotten used to just dealing with things himself.

“oh, please! it’s the least i can do for someone who is actually interested in what i do. let’s go get your stuff, brian.”

•-•|•-•

“and there! we got all your stuff here safe and sound.”echo sighed, a bit exhausted after helping brian bring his stuff to her apartment.

by this time, it was almost 5am, and it was blowing echo’s mind to think that just two hours ago, she hadn’t known brian kendrick, and now he was moving in with her! he felt like an old friend at this point.

brian only had one medium box full of his clothes, but one huge box filled with wrestling memorabilia. three large binders contained various wrestling dvds from many different places, and pictures of him in action.

“would you like to get some breakfast or something? there’s a coffee house called apostles of smoothies nearby that has really good smoothies. then, while we’re there, we can figure out what our schedule will be. that sound good?”

brian responded with a gigantic hug. since he initially told echo about his situation, he couldn’t bring himself to talk. and echo understood that. she wasn’t much of a talker, either.

•-•|•-•

“logan, you son of a bitch, get over here!” echo yelled at her old friend logan black, owner of apostles of smoothies. logan was also a professional wrestler who, as his second job, ran a coffee house/wrestling arena on the beach. it was located in an old surf shack, with artwork of various artists decorating its walls. logan and echo were old friends from before they moved to hawaii. they grew up together in the middle of manhattan, and frequented concerts and wrestling shows together.

“well well well, look who we have here! you want your regular?”

“sure thing!”

“and who’s the guy with you today? is he a special someone?” logan asked. echo turned a bright red and punched logan in the arm.

“um hi, my names brian kendrick.” brian extended his hand out for a handshake.

“the names logan. this here is apostles of smoothies, the only coffee house/wrestling arena in honolulu! would you like something today?”

“i’ll have whatever echo’s having.”

“sure thing! if you’re a friend of echo’s, you’re a friend of mine. don’t worry about paying, it’s on the house.”

“logan,” echo teased, “you’re going to run out of business if you keep doing this!”

“i only do it for you, echo celeste svensson.”

echo rolled her eyes at logan.

“do you want to sit outside?” echo asked brian. “maybe we could talk over today’s schedule while we watch the sunrise.”

brian nodded in agreement as echo and him sat at a table facing the ocean.

“and here you go! two celestial sunrises for you guys!” logan said, giving them the smoothies.

“so, brian, i was thinking of getting some work done in the studio this morning, and ordering pizza for lunch around 12. is there anything you want to do today?”

brian’s response warmed echo’s heart. “i’d like to spend time with you today, if that’s alright. it’s gonna rain all day, so we’ll maybe watch a movie or two together and make a castle out of blankets. do you think you could hold off on your work in the studio until tomorrow?”

echo made some weird noise of excitement, like a giddy schoolgirl. “i’d love to watch a movie with you!”

•-•|•-•

echo queued up a mini studio ghibli marathon of her two favorite movies, my neighbor totoro and kiki’s delivery service. luckily, brian liked those two choices.

after they finished the movies and pizza, echo put on some chill step mix to calm her down. not that she was overly hyper, she just loved the feeling of being calm and loved, which was how she felt with brian in her apartment. the feeling of being loved was something echo had not felt since she moved to hawaii, three years ago.

however, the concept of being loved and safe was unfamiliar to brian. every time he thought about his past, it made him feel really down and not okay. all the years of repressing his bad memories had turned brian into a shy, broken, and unsure man. but he felt like a different man with echo, like he was missing a piece to his puzzle.

he looked down at echo, who was just snuggled into his side, looking at him lovingly.

“fuck it, i’m just gonna do it.” brian decided, leaning in to echo, lips meeting.

to say the kiss was amazing would be an understatement. the two fit together like puzzle pieces. brian pulled echo in, like a magnet. his lips met hers in a passionate embrace, with just the right amounts of roughness and romance. after an eternity and a half, the two finally broke apart, catching their breath.

“holy shit,” brian gasped, “that was totally uncalled for.”

“to be honest, that was exactly how i wanted my first kiss to go, brian.”

•-•|•-•

“well well well, look who’s back again!” logan yelled, scaring echo shitless. “you coming to see brian wrestle?”

“yeah, how did you know he wrestled?”

“looked up his info on the internet. he’s quite the journeyman, he’s been all over the states! wonder why he came to hawaii, though.”

“hey echo,” brian said, calling over echo, “i’d like you to meet some of my friends. you may know them. Say hello to Tony Booze.”

“Hey there Echo, I’m Tony.” Tony introduced himself, shaking Echo’s hand.

•-•|•-•

There were seven matches scheduled for that night’s event. Echo loved them all, and couldn’t keep her eyes off the action! But Brian was not in any of them, yet she still had a grand old time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your main event of the night here at Oahu Championship Wrestling!” Echo and the crowd of around 150 fans cheered. Judging by how good the matches were already, she was going to be in for a treat. “This next match is a No Holds Barred match, and it is for the Oahu Heavyweight Championship!”

The opening notes to Raining Blood by Slayer invaded the airwaves, and so did a chorus of boos as a tall, buff, and tattooed man made his way to the ring, adorned in a black cape and crown. He was the current champion. “Making his way to the ring, from the ninth circle of Hell, the King of the Hallowed, VOID!”

“And his challenger,” Body Talks was now beginning to play, “the Unholy Savior Of The Masses, Grayson Del Toro!” The match kicked off with a fever pitch, both participants delivering clobbering blows to each other, like two drunken men at a bar.

Fifty minutes later, and VOID had retained his belt in an absolute masterpiece of a match. But, he still continued to beat down a bloodied Grayson Del Toro. Then, a cloaked figure ran down to the ring, mercilessly attacking VOID with a steel chair shot to the head. The crowd was at a loss for words. They absolutely despised VOID, and were genuinely afraid of him. The fact that someone decided to attack VOID was beyond them. “Could it be Brian?” wondered Echo.

After the referees separated the masked attacker from VOID, he revealed his face to the crowd, who popped so loud that the walls shook. “Ua hoʻi wau.” He dropped the mic. It was none other than Brian.

He walked over to Echo, and invited her into the ring. He gave her a black flower crown and stole VOID’s cape, dressing Echo in it. “I am Brian Kendrick, and this is my queen. Together we will rule this company, and usher in a new age of chaos.” He then placed his lips on Echo, who was quite surprised by the events that were transpiring. What had gotten into Brian? Well, whatever it was turned on Echo, impressed by this dark side.

#the brian kendrick #wwe imagine #wwe fluff

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deadlifts-and-derrida · 5 years

Text

Learning to Grow

There's a scene in the 90's animated Spider-Man where Eddie Brock, the human host of the Venom symbiote, is lifting weights in his run-down New York apartment. He's shirtless, bench pressing what looks like an impressive weight. The camera runs over his arms and torso as he recites, between grunts, a litany of wrongs, imagined and real, that Spider-Man has visited upon him. There are brief flashbacks with each item on the list, played out semi-opaque in front of his sweaty muscular torso. As each one fades and we see him clear, his muscles appear to pulse and swell. He's getting bigger and bigger as the scene goes on, muscles engorging with each repetition, each up and down of the loaded bar he's bench-pressing.

This scene captivated me as a child. Any time this episode came up in re-runs I'd be glued to the TV, would find some excuse to go into another room and sneakily turn on a separate television, away from my family, even if it meant watching it on a smaller, less modern set.

I knew I loved muscle before I saw this scene. I even doubt this was the first time I saw a depiction of where muscles came from. This first aired in 1994. I would have been 11. Surely I knew muscles came from working out before I saw this. But it felt like some previously unconnected parts of my brain were suddenly wired together.

If you want to have muscles you have to lift weights!

My mom had two blue dumbbells at home. I think she bought them to use at the Step Aerobics class she went to every Thursday night in the gymnasium of the local elementary school, the same school I attended. They were 5 lbs each. I'm sure they would look small to me now. They looked big to me then.

They came with a folded up paper diagram of exercises you could do with the dumbbells. It featured a line drawing of an absurdly muscular man (these are FIVE POUND DUMBBELLS and he looks like a professional bodybuilder!), shirtless, wearing a pair of short shorts. Of course I was attracted to this line drawing. But I remember taking these little blue dumbbells and trying to use them to get bigger and stronger. I tried to use the piano bench to do chest flies. I did lots of bicep curls. I don't think I ever did anything for my back and my legs - classic clueless young man, only exercising the muscles he can see, the ones that look good in a t-shirt.

I didn't go about this in any regimented fashion. They were sporadic attempts. I didn't yet realize how frequently you had to work out to see results. I didn't realize how to organize a weightlifting session at the gym, how to program it to achieve hypertrophy (or, in lay terms, bigger muscles). I thought of it like it was a role-playing game, like if you lifted weights you'd add a little EXP to your STR bar, and eventually it'd level up even if you weren't systematic about it.

So of course I don't think mom's two blue 5 lbs dumbbells did much for me.

There was no commercial or public gym in my hometown, nor one within a 100 km drive. There were some private gyms, in people's basements and such. My little hometown, which had about 5,000 people living in it when I was in my early teens, somehow produced four provincial bodybuilding champions to my knowledge, including Newfoundland's only internationally successful professional bodybuilder to date. Fewer than 1% of the province's population. We certainly over-performed in this aspect.

And then there was me. Absolutely nothing to look at. But burning with a desire that I felt ashamed of, felt like I should keep it hidden. Bodybuilding was all around me and I didn't say anything, didn't give any indication that it interested me. Two of those four provincial champions were my next-door neighbours, one of them a year older than me, one of them a year younger than me. It never occured to me to even try to train with them.

I was an awkward nerd. I knew I was gay. I hadn't told anyone. But bullies called me every word you can call a gay kid, because, well, they were bullies.

So I didn't connect with the budding bodybuilders around me. I never lifted in one of the basements where so many successful bodybuilding careers began.

I did pushups sporadically in my bedroom and hoped it would be enough.

Of course it wasn't. Forcing the body to build more metabolically expensive muscle tissue than it absolutely needs is one of the most difficult things to do. A few pushups in your bedroom and a protein-poor diet (I was vegetarian but I wasn't one of the "good kind" who research proper diet) won't cut it.

In my second term at University, the Field House opened. This was a new athletic facility. There was some controversy in student circles that we were all being levied a $40/semester fee to pay for the Field House - but in return, we all had access to the facility. We just had to show our student card.

Stress, bad eating, and a post-exam bout of mononucleosis had left me about 145 lbs at this point. I'm 6' tall. There was no muscle on me to speak of - though skinny, I had no abs, no definition in my arms and legs. My arms measured 10" around.

So, although all my leftist friends were angry about the Field House levy, I was secretly happy about it. Finally, I had access to a gym.

I didn't research what to do. I didn't ask for help in making a plan.

For weeks, I went in and ran on the treadmill.

I remember an article by another gay writer about body image, muscles, and exercise. He describes running on the treadmill while dreaming of himself as finally having that muscular body he's long wanted to have.

Now, I want to give the guy a shake and ask him what the hell he's doing on a treadmill if he wants muscles. That's like practicing piano and hoping it'll make you a better cook. But back then - I was that guy.

There was a little alcove in the Field House next to the cardio room that had some air-powered resistance machines. I started to use those. I doubt I used them well. No one taught me form. I didn't look it up. This was 2002 - YouTube, a great resource for this kind of thing, was years away.

But it was better than nothing. My diet, still appalling and low in protein, did get a little better as my palate expanded and I learned, on a semester in England in 2003, that I liked and could prepare chicken and fish.

My arms were 12" around. This is still small. It's nowhere near Eddie Brock. But it's better than 10".

I was like a timid deer slowly being tamed. Toward the end of my undergraduate degree, I began going to the Strength and Conditioning Centre, in the basement of the old Phys Ed building, where the actual lifters and bodybuilders on campus went.

But I was not yet either of those things.

I was still ashamed of my desires, couldn't bring myself to ask anyone for help, to acquire the practical knowledge I needed if I was ever going to achieve the kind of progress I wanted.

So even though there was a freeweight section full of huge burly men lifting impressive weights, I kept to the machines and the dumbbells. Lateral raises (probably done badly), cable flies (probably done badly), tricep pushdowns (probably done badly), dips and pullups (almost certainly done badly), lat pulldowns (I only ever felt these in my forearms). I never did a bench press. I never did a squat. I don't think I even knew what a deadlift was.

I ate like I was lifting big weights and having gruelling workouts, though. So, in other words, I got chubby and my muscles more or less stayed the same, after those newbie gains earned in the alcove of the Field House with the air-powered machines. I did not look like I lifted weights. I certainly didn't look like a bodybuilder.

My mid and late 20s were full of periods where I had no gym access. I ran during those times, every second day. I got fitter, my body firmed up, I felt better. I was also physically suited to middle distance running. But I was smaller, during those times, and I wanted to be bigger.

When I did have gym access I continued to lift poorly, without doing any compound movements (bench, squat, deadlift, overhead press, etc). And I ate to grow, but it was a lot of low quality food. So, during those times, my body got softer. I told myself I was bulking, but my muscles didn't get bigger. My arms were still about 12" or 13", depending on which of these two modes I was existing in.

I still lived in dread of someone discovering how much I wanted to be a huge muscular freak. How I fed my imagination on a steady diet of enormous bodybuilders, folders with thousands of jpgs saved from the internet, treasured memories of the rare times I'd seen a truly huge muscular man out in the wild, in person. Walking in the mall, lying on a blanket in the park, in the checkout line at the supermarket.

I would sometimes fantasize about finding some almost empty bottle of steroids in the locker room. Maybe just one or two pills left. At the time I erroneously thought all steroids were pills - I didn't know anything about steroids at all, at this point. I just knew they made guys big. In this fantasy, I would take the one or two pills I found, and it would make me slightly more muscular than I was. Perhaps 5% more. And that would be enough to make me happy without anyone realizing anything. Of course, it doesn't work that way.

I wasn't entirely clueless. In 2009, I started a PhD at the University of Toronto, and had access to its excellent gym facilities. By then I knew I had to do compound movements like bench press and squat. I started to learn how. I didn't seek out help, though, and I definitely should have. Also, a PhD is very demanding on your time. I was following a "split" (how you organize your workouts through the week) appropriate for someone lifting 4-5 times a week, but I was lucky if I got in 2 or 3 times (which, frankly, isn't enough to see much progress regardless of your "split"). 10 or 12 days would go by between chest workouts, between back workouts, between leg workouts.

I suppose I made some progress. Not much. I may have deluded myself into thinking it was more than it was, because I had been going to the gym, in some capacity, for 7 years, and I wanted to have something to show for it.

In early 2012, me and my then-boyfriend drove to his father's in South Carolina. I had just turned 29. I was planning on using the fact we were traveling to buy steroids online. I was paranoid that my IP address could be tracked if I did it at home and it would be safer to do it from some hotel room in Pennsylvania.

I realized, when in a hotel room in Pennsylvania trying to buy steroids online, that I didn't know enough about any of that to actually go through with it. I hadn't done my research. Looking back, my naivete is laughable. Now, if I encountered someone like the person I used to be trying to buy steroids, I would try my best to discourage them for a large number of reasons. One, you, past Michael, clearly don't know how to train and eat to grow; that being the case, all steroids will do is upset your endocrine system's natural balance and increase some health risks without actually giving you the benefits you want. Secondly, you don't know a thing about them. What kind are you going to buy? The answer better be testosterone enanthate or testosterone cypionate; test only for a beginner's cycle. Do you know proper injection technique? Don't even think about an oral-only cycle! Do you know what an AI is? It's an aromatase inhibitor, a drug that prevents most of the negative side effects people associate with steroid use, which ironically come from elevated estrogen, a side effect of elevated tesoterone - you did know that, didn't you? Do you know what PCT is? It's Post Cycle Therapy, drugs people take once they have finished their cycle of steroids to help restart their body's natural hormone production, which is disrupted by steroids. You knew steroids would shut down your natural testosterone production, right?

Luckily, I realized I wasn't ready, and didn't go through with my plan. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, did I think I could just type "buy steroids" into google? OK, yes, you can actually do that, but it's not a good idea. There are plenty of people out there willing to make a quick buck selling snake oil to idiots like me, and even if they sold me legitimate gear, I wasn't ready for it and had no idea how to use it safely and responsibly, as outlined above.

In January of 2013, my parents, always solidly middle class, suddenly became very wealthy, and they passed some of this on to me. I had never made more than $25,000 in a year, and suddenly twice that was sitting in my bank account, with more to come.

One of the things I splurged on was a DEXA scan. It cost $125. You lay still on the bed of a device, and a mechanical arm slowly passes over your whole body twice. It takes about ten minutes. it is the most accurate body composition scan currently available.

I wanted to know how well my efforts in the gym had paid off.

Not at all, it turned out.

I was 184 lbs. This was in the "normal" BMI range for someone 6' tall. But I was 25.1% bodyfat. For a man, obesity is considered anything over 25%. I was the opposite of a bodybuilder. Bodybuilders have obese BMI but very low bodyfat percentages. I had normal BMI but an obese bodyfat percentage.

My lean body mass was only 138 lbs. If I was lean like a bodybuilder, I wouldn't even weigh 150 lbs. I had been going to the gym for 11 years and I had almost nothing to show for it - maybe 10 or 15 lbs of muscle gained from the underfed just-over-a-bout-of-mono 19 year old who first stepped into a gym in 2002.

This was a kick in the pants. Luckily it motivated me. I reformed my diet. No more pizza and burritos except as very occasional treats. Cut way way way back on the booze. Running in the morning every second day, lifting weights every day I didn't run.

I got married in June. I weighed 170 lbs and my bodyfat was down to 19%. I was losing fat without losing muscle, possibly because there was very little muscle to lose.

We went on an extended summer wedding tour, had wedding parties on both coasts. I relaxed a little but didn't give up fully.

And that September, enabled by having some money, emboldened by finally achieving a little success, spurred on by turning 30 and realizing that if I didn't start to do this right then my dream of being a bodybuilder would never come to pass, I hired a trainer.

And on our first meeting, I told him: I want to get as big as I possibly can.

And he said let's get to work.

#me #writing #self #working out #bodybuilding

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 6 years

Text

Blind Date

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Request: It had to be fate when Steve runs into his work crush on a stroll through his old stomping grounds.

Word Count: 3,756 - One Shot

Once again, special thanks to @kquel12 and @alexabarnes for letting me pick their brain.

Steve walked around the city. It had been a hot summer day and it seemed the people of New York couldn’t escape it until the moon replaced the sun. There was a nice cool breeze that finally made the heat bearable.

Steve had needed to clear his head. So he rode his motorcycle back to the city. He’d spent all day in Brooklyn, familiarizing himself with his old stomping grounds again. He spent the later half back in Manhattan. Now he made his way down fifth avenue after strolling through the The Met.

It was getting late and there were fewer people in the area. The usual tourists had made their way back to their hotels or were out on the town.

Steve was strolling slower than usual, taking in the sounds and views of the city. He’d curiously look into Central Park from his spot on the sidewalk. It was nice to know that the park hadn’t changed hardly at all since his time growing up.

He was just about to speed up his walk and make his way back to the old Avengers Tower and grab his motorcycle to make his trip back to the compound Upstate. But then he saw a familiar face walking toward him on the sidewalk.

It was Y/N.

She worked for the PR department at the compound. They’d frequently exchange smiles and polite conversations. Luckily, Steve didn’t need to work with her all that often. It was mostly Tony that had to be talked through how to handle bad publicity.

Y/N was always professional and – from what Steve was told – she was rather amazing at her job.

Sometimes Steve wished he misbehaved more so he’d have an excuse to talk to Y/N more. His little crush was only really noticed by Sam, Steve, and – of course – Natasha.

On multiple accounts, Bucky had to jab Steve in the stomach to stop him from staring at Y/N with heart eyes when she was in the same room as them. Steve was grateful for the wake up calls. But he always wanted to punch Bucky when he smirked at him knowingly.

Steve didn’t think it was professional for him to make a move. It was an HR nightmare waiting to happen. And working in PR, she had to know what a mess he would be to date. So Steve just watched her from a distance, secretly fawning over her.

Y/N was close enough to Steve on the sidewalk now to notice him as well. She had earbuds in and quickly took them out.

Steve swore he caught a melancholy aura around her before she caught sight of him. But maybe he’d been imagining it.

“Captain Rogers,” she beamed brightly.

God, she was beautiful.

It was then that Steve noticed she wasn’t wearing her usual business attire. Instead her makeup was a little brighter and she was wearing a summery and loose dress. She looked even more beautiful than usual and he didn’t know that was even possible.

“Y/N,” he greeted with a grin. “And please, it’s just Steve. We’re not at the office.”

She nodded. “What are you doing in the city?”

Steve shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and looked around awkwardly. “Uhh…just needed to get out of the compound. And before I knew it, I was riding into Manhattan.”

She eyed him, seeming to sense that there was more to it than that. But she still nodded in understanding.

“You look…” Steve wanted to say ‘beautiful,’ but it felt too inappropriate and forward.

“You look lovely,” he finally said.

Y/N let out a nervous sigh and blushed. “Thank you,” she said shyly, like it was unusual for a man to say that to her.

“Am I stopping you from getting somewhere?” Steve asked hurriedly. She must have better things to do that to talk to him.

“No. No, not at all. I was just…I was just having drinks with my friends.” She gestured behind her with her thumb. “They wanted to make a whole night of it. But I wasn’t feeling it.”

Steve nodded.

He couldn’t get over how the soft breeze was making her hair flutter around her face. Her skin seemed to be glowing from the humidity of summer. There was a part of him that just wanted to grab her and kiss her. But that wasn’t him. That would never be him.

He remembered his words of warning to Bruce. ‘As maybe the world's leading authority on waiting too long, don’t.’ Maybe he should stop being a coward and take his own advice. They weren’t at the office. And he knew he would never make it weird if she rejected him. In fact, he thought she’d better. Clearly she was too good for him.

“Hey, would you – would you want to grab a drink?” He finally asked.

Her eyes widened a bit. “Now?” She blurted out softly.

Steve chuckled, “Yes, now. Unless you really wanted to call it a night and head home.” She bit her lip. “A drink sounds great, actually.”

Steve was stunned that she agreed. “OK. I’m not really familiar with the area these days…Do you know a place nearby?”

“Yeah, I do.” Then she pointed in a general direction. “There’s a spot I like a few blocks north of here.”

Steve smiled and nodded. “Lead the way.”

Y/N took them to a hole-in-the-wall dive bar. She looked out of place in her pretty dress and even prettier face. Steve was almost glad he was there with her because the patrons appeared to be mostly men that wouldn’t behave themselves around a girl like her.

They sat at the end of the bar, basically a dark corner of the bar. The stools squeaked when they sat on them.

“What can I get for you, darling?” A woman came over with a cut off t-shirt and a sleeve of tattoos on both arms. She winked at Y/N, making Steve think she was just as interested in Y/N as he was.

Y/N looked at Steve for a second. “Wanna play a game with me?”

“Sure,” he said almost too quickly and casually. He’d do just about anything she asked if he was being honest with himself.

Y/N smiled at his quick response and turned back to the bartender. "Can we get six shots of tequila and two Stellas please?”

The bartender was taken aback, but clearly impressed. Before Steve had time to comprehend what was happening, Y/N had pulled out her credit card and handed it to the bartender with a, “Keep it open.”

“You know, I was the one that asked you to get drinks…” Steve pointed out.

Y/N smirked at him. “Is this where you try to prove that chivalry isn’t dead?”

“Back in my day, we didn’t call it chivalry. It was called being polite and it was also just expected.”

“Right. Gentleman weren’t a dead breed,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

Steve’s eyes softened at her obvious hurt with the statement. “So, what’s this game you’re dragging me into?”

Y/N perked up at his subject change. “We’re going to ask each other whatever we want. Each shot is a question. But if we don’t want to answer the question, we have to take the shot.”

Steve nodded slowly, “What’s the beer for?”

“Oh, that’s our chaser.”

The bartender came back with their beers and 6 shot glasses in her hand. She poured them the tequila and left them a salt shaker as well as a glass full of lime slices. She left them alone with a, “Have fun, kids.”

Steve looked at the shots. “I guess now is a bad time to tell you that I can’t really get drunk.”

Y/N’s face scrunched. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Side effects of the serum. Guess my metabolism burns it off before I can get the buzz.”

“Well then, you’ve got quite the edge to this game. I might not remember your dirty secrets in the morning. But you’ll remember all of mine.”

Steve chuckled. “In that case, ladies first. Ask away.”

She sat up excitedly. “What do you hate the most about this century?”

His brow raised at the forwardness of the question. “Alright, so that’s how this is gonna be then?”

She just smirked and nodded.

“I guess…” he shifted in his seat, “Technology is amazing. It’s grown faster and bigger than I could’ve ever imagined.” Then he hesitated. “But – don’t make fun of me for this – I think a lot of people are ignorant to the new problems it’s brought too.”

Y/N was clearly intrigued, leaning in closer. “Like what?”

“I don’t know – There are some many new ways to harass and bully people. Lack of privacy. A platform for lies and misinformation. Advertising your life like it’s a brand. Don’t even get me started on cyber security. Hell, we invented Ultron because of it. People’s phones? They’re like…interrupters. People miss so much because of them.”

He quickly listed them off and then took a breath. He slowed his thoughts down. “No one writes each other letters anymore.” He sighed, “The instant gratification of everything is…disappointing.”

Y/N smiled at him. “Who knew Captain America was such a romantic?” Steve blushed and chuckled, “Guess I am then.”

“I don’t disagree with your criticisms. But, you know, there are some good things that came with technology.”

“And I’m not disagreeing with that.”

“You can talk to people across the country, see their face. Yeah, social media is obnoxious. But I can keep up with my friends that don’t live near me. I feel like I’m still a part of their lives and we can remain friends easier, even if we only get to see each other once a year. The internet opened up people to the whole world.”

Steve looked at her for a moment. “What?” She asked.

“And you call me the romantic…” Steve teased.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him.

A moment of silence pass between them.

Steve cleared his throat, “My turn?”

She nodded.

“Did you always want to work in public relations?”

Y/N laughed at the question. “Did you always want to wear a uniform, throw a shield around, and save the world?” “Well…I guess not.” Steve admitted.

“Exactly. We don’t always do what we want. Sometimes we just do what we’re good at because we don’t really see another option.”

Steve watched her for a moment. His expression was sympathetic, like he just instantly understood that she had dreams she had yet to fulfill. That maybe she never would.

“Uh…I think it’s your turn,” he told her gently.

Y/N eyed him for a moment, mischievousness evident in her gaze. “Can we just agree right now that we’re not coworkers?”

Steve nodded.

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

Steve nodded again.

“When’s the last time you had sex?”

Steve’s eyebrows rose to his forehead. He knew people were more open about sex in this century. But it still caught him off guard every time. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it, no matter how long he was exposed to it.

Without hesitating, he took the shot.

“Oh, come on!” Y/N cried out with a laugh.

“Nope,” was all Steve said as he winced at the burn of the alcohol going down his throat. He might not be able to get drunk, but alcohol still didn’t going down easily.

“You really are a gentleman, huh?” It was more of a rhetorical question than anything.

Steve ignored her comment and looked at the bottom of his beer glass. “You know, back in my day, people kept that kind of stuff to themselves – stayed between you and your partner.”

Y/N smiled softly at the comment. “You have to realize that you not answering also kind of answers it.”

Steve shook his head, rolled his eyes, and decided to move on.

“Do you like working for us – I mean, like working for the Avengers?” Steve asked nervously. A part of him imagined her going home and complaining about them to her best friends, saying she needed to get a new job as soon as possible.

“Yeah, I do. Really, I do.” Y/N admitted. “Sometimes it’s just not good for my self-esteem or ego,” she added with a laugh.

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Y/N took a sip of her beer and cleared her throat. “Are you kidding? You guys save the world. You put your lives on the line constantly. Meanwhile, I just make sure the media vultures leave you guys alone.” Then she smiled. “Oh, and I’m damage control for Stark. Which…should be a full-time job on it’s own.”

“You do understand the reason we do what we do is so people like you can have a normal life.”

His voice was serious and his eyes were even more.

They just watched each other for a moment.

Then Y/N looked down in her lap, trying to figure out if she should ask her next question. “Have you dated since you woke up?”

To her surprise, Steve didn’t toss back a shot.

Y/N knew he had a relationship with Sharon Carter at one point. But from what she’d heard, there hadn’t exactly been a courting process. It didn’t seem like Steve had to submerge himself in the dating culture of today to establish a relationship with his past girlfriend.

“Not really.”

“Why not?” She challenged.

“It wouldn’t exactly be fair.”

Y/N just looked at him with confusion.

“She – She wouldn’t just be dating me. She’d be dating Captain America. I don’t know if I’m willing to throw that onto someone.”

“But you dated Agent Carter,” Y/N blurted out. Then she winced. “Sorry. God, I’m sorry. That was so rude.”

Steve laughed at her. “It’s fine. Really. It didn’t work out. We’re still friends.”

Y/N took in a deep breath to gain some bravery. “I might be stepping out of line by saying this, but I think you need to hear it. You think you have some sort of baggage because of who you are. But if she’s the right girl, she won’t see it as baggage. Because she’ll love you.”

Steve’s heart melted at the words. God, why did she have to go and say something like that to him? As if he wasn’t already smitten.

He shifted in his seat at the tension her statement caused.

“OK. Since I see where are boundaries are now…” He smiled devilishly. It was strange to see such a thing on Captain America’s lips. “Do you believe in love?”

Y/N blinked at him, trying to process what he said and convince her brain she hadn’t imagined it. Then she reached for the tequila shot and threw it back. “Hey! What! No!” Steve cried out with amusement.

“Nope. Not happening,” Y/N answered as she bit into the lime.

The night went on that way. The questions held less weight and they allowed themselves to get sidetracked in different conversations. Steve couldn’t remember any other time when he learned so much about someone so quickly. Their conversation had more meaning than the average one between two people. Even with the things Y/N wouldn’t say or talk about, Steve learned something from them.

It was getting late. All their shots has been drunk and they went through more glasses of beer. The bar was a little less crowded than when they’d arrived. At this point, Y/N was quite drunk. She was still herself, just more open and giggly. Steve was only irritated by how much more adorable it made her.

“Wanna know a secret?” Y/N giggled before taking a sip of her beer. He’d politely asked the bartender to stop giving her shots.

Steve didn’t really answer her yes or no, just waited to see if she wanted to tell him or not.

“I lied to you earlier,” Y/N gave him a sad smile and looked down at the bar guiltily.

Steve tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“When I ran into you, I hadn’t just gotten done getting drinks with my friends.” She wasn’t looking at him as she spoke.

He waited for her to continue.

“I was on a date. Well…I was waiting for a date.” Y/N took in a shaky breath. “He stood me up.”

“What?” Steve blurted out without meeting to.

“It was a blind date that my friend set up. I had his number. Jesus – I waited for 30 minutes before I finally realized he wasn’t coming. He didn’t answer any of my texts. I just sat there, thinking he was running late.”

Steve watched her for a moment, realizing that she was trying to play it off. But it clearly had really upset her. It made sense now, why she wanted to go right into the hard liquor and to mentally push him. She was upset. She was looking for some kind of release.

“He’s an idiot,” Steve finally declared.

She finally looked at him. Her breath caught.

Her eyes cast downward. “My friend showed him a picture. He had my full name – could’ve easily looked me up.” She shrugged. “Maybe he just didn’t like what he found.”

But Steve was already shaking his head aggressively.

“What? That’s probably what happened!” Y/N argued with slurred words.

Steve sat up straighter in his stool – as if that were possible – and leaned a little closer to her.

“Now it’s my turn to cross the line,” he warned with a voice that was low and serious. “Any man that treats you like that is a fool. Silver lining is that he spared you from the obvious reality of being unworthy of you.”

Despite being drunk, his declaration still struck a chord in Y/N’s heart.

“Steve – I…” she couldn’t form a coherent thought. She closed her eyes to try harder, but it threw off her equilibrium and she stumbled off her stool.

Steve instantly caught her by her shoulders. “Woah, there.”

“Sorry,” she slurred, gripping his forearms.

“I think it’s time we get you home,” Steve muttered as he tried to get the attention of the bartender to close the tab. Y/N was too drunk to catch that Steve put the bill on his card instead and safely put hers back into her purse.

It took him a few tries to get Y/N to correctly give him her address, but he eventually got it. Luckily it was in the neighborhood.

Steve kept his arm around her waist, scared if he let her get too far away from him, she’d drunkenly stumble into the street or fall to the ground. She didn’t seem to mind his touch.

“It’s not fair that you can’t get drunk. I’m making a fool of myself and your just satan’s witness…” Y/N slurred as Steve unlocked her door for her after she failed to do so at least 10 times.

“Yeah, but you’re the one having all the fun, doll.” He chuckled.

“Whatever,” she slurred before tripping over a pair of discarded shoes.

Steve caught her again. “OK. Let’s get you to bed, huh?”

“Oh, yes! Bed!” She dragged him to her bedroom and only let go of his hand to toss herself on top of her bed like a starfish. She let out a sigh of content, causing him to chuckle.

Steve took off her shoes, but stopped at that.

“Hey,” she sounded surprisingly sober with just that word. “You’re not going back to the compound, right?”

Steve scratched the back of his head. “Uhh…Yeah. That was my plan.”

“It’s late, Steve. Just stay here.”

He watched her for a moment. Like he realized earlier in the night, he’d do just about anything she’d ask of him.

“Yeah. OK. I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room. Thanks.”

She tried to hide her slight disappointment, like she had expected America’s golden boy, Steve Rogers, maybe the last living gentleman, to sleep in her bed beside her.

Steve started backing out of her room. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Hey, Steve?” She called out into the darkness, just as he was about to shut her door.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for tonight.”

——————

Y/N woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a mouth so dry that it felt like no amount of water could ever cure it.

Then last nights events came flooding back to her memory. Well, there was obviously bits and pieces missing, and a lot of it was blurry.

Had her and Steve been flirting? The whole night?

It was impossible. He was…Steve Rogers, Captain America. In what world would he ever have any interest in her?

Y/N groaned and rubbed her face. Work was going to be so embarrassing on Monday. She’d have to apologize and then she’d never be able to talk to him again.

She got up and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, fully expecting to find her living room empty.

And she was right. There was a blanket politely and neatly folded on the edge of her couch. The only proof that Steve had spent the night.

But then there was the sound of the bathroom door opening and Y/N jumped as she turned around, half expecting it to be an intruder.

Steve paused at her surprised look. “Morning,” he greeted.

“I didn’t think you’d still be here,” she admitted.

“Oh, sorry. I should go.”

“No! I’m glad you’re still here. I should apologize for how I behaved last night–”

“Please don’t be embarrassed or apologize,” Steve interrupted. “I – I liked seeing you like that.”

“Like what?”

“Open. Honest. Yourself.” He hesitated. “Not my colleague.”

So her drunken mind hadn’t been imagining the flirtations.

Y/N’s heart beat faster at the way he was looking at her. “Would – Would you like to get breakfast together?” Steve asked her softly.

“Really?”

Steve smiled. “The universe owes you a date. And I think I could be the man for the job. I would make more of a show of it, ask you out to dinner on a Friday night, take you to a fancy restaurant. But I don’t…I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“No. No, breakfast is great.” Y/N blushed and smile shyly. “I’ve always wanted to go on a breakfast date.”

-------------------------------------------------

Wanna know something funny? I went out to dinner when I was in the middle of writing this and my friend and I sat next to a guy that had clearly gotten stood up and it was so heartbreaking. I felt so bad for him.

Anyways, I love feedback and hearing people’s reactions. It makes me happy.

#steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers reader insert #marvel reader insert #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x you #captain america x you

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