#my dad specifically planned to find a way to avoid ever telling his parents because of how they'd react

[adhd-mode-activate]

I'm gonna cry, honestly

in my senior year of college, my grades really slipped, to the point that when grades for my last semester came out, it was clear that with what I had I couldn't graduate. I honestly would've been more surprised if I had been able to graduate

my parents and I talked. a lot. my mom was disappointed, but we talked and we're doing better now. my dad was frustrated, but he also looked at me and told me to read the date on his diploma. and then asked how he could be mad when I did exactly the same thing he did

the assumption was that I would have to take at least one more class in my field of study, which is Biblical Studies, so the options for where I can get a relevant class are...limited

but my dad said to wait. just wait. be patient until I got an email from the registrar saying what I needed.

I got that email today, from the dean of my school. he told me I needed one more credit hour in my department to graduate. and then he said that since I'd done my internship for zero credit hours, if I did the paper evaluating my internship he could bump it up to one credit hour with no extra charge

I think I cried for an hour. I actually get to graduate. I get to spend my money and time saving up for a home and a newer car and buying food for my darling cat.

It's weird, thinking how much that hit me. Freshman me would've been shocked and somewhat horrified that I was so relieved just to graduate. But it feels like the days I wake up and realize that it's not so bad to be alive

I get to graduate

[phoenixyfriend]

Commander Buir

Follow-up to this post. Not in any particular order, just spitballing ideas, with contributions from several friends on discord.

Like presumably it takes long enough for them all to meet up again that Anakin and Cody do, in fact, end up treating each other like family, just so I can have that good good "well, guess I'm Dad now" energy. Shmi isn't entirely sure what's going on but she's not a slave anymore and her kid seems to like this rando mando, so.

Anakin gets to have a mom and two dads, though one of the dads is arguably younger than him.

Also when they all meet up again and Cody explains the "General Skywalker got shrunk" thing, there are three reactions: (General) Obi-Wan: Oh, Anakin. Obi-Wan: [gestures to take him, ends up with an armful of clingy padatoddler] Anakin: You can't blame this on me, Obi. Obi-Wan, a little teary, because babies cause emotions: Of course I can, you absurd human being. ------ Rex: That's... my general. Anakin: I am, Captain. Rex: Cool cool cool I'm gonna go stand where I can't, uh, break you. Anakin: I'm not THAT fragile! ------ Ahsoka: [gasp] Skyguy is SKYKID! Anakin: Padawan, this is-- Ahsoka, grabbing him and cuddling: Oh my goodness you're adorable this is the best day ever. Anakin: This is humiliating, Snips, put me down. Ahsoka: Never.

Anakin hates being a toddler because of the lack of independence but Cody keeps picking him up when he's cranky and just holding him until he falls asleep and that's... nice.......

- The brain limitations aren't quite as bad as the situation with Sokanth and Ylliben in the other AU, but - Even if his brain is mostly adjusted he’s still got a tiny body with different needs that he’s not used to. Like, he needs to sleep more but he’s got more energy than usual when he’s awake and it’s all weird.

Cody carrying around toddler Anakin like "God you give me ulcers but you're adorable, you little shit."

Inconveniently tiny body aside, Anakin has a pretty great time in this au. His family are all together and safe and within reach. His wife isn't around, but toddler brain means he doesn't have the Romance Drive, so that's not as bad as it could be It could be significantly worse.

@atagotiak asked: Does Anakin get annoyed about being called cute? - To which I say, He bites the first few times but Shmi tells him that's Naughty so he stops. - Babies are cute so you packbond with them before they’re annoying, Anakin is cute as a self defense mechanism - He’s extra annoying so he needs to be extra cute

You know how you need to keep an eye on toddlers so they don't, like, fall down the stairs or put something toxic in their mouth? - They need to keep an eye on Anakin specifically so he doesn't rewire the ship they're in while they're in hyperspace. - He has less self control on account of being smol. He still has all the mechanical knowledge! Just less comprehension of y’know, consequences.

Anakin, with a sippy cup: This is demeaning. Ahsoka: Your hands don't work great enough to avoid accidents yet. Anakin: It's still embarrassing.

General Kenobi can't just kill Maul, not when Maul is baby right now (sixteen, which is baby enough) so he just. Kinda. Kidnaps a baby Sith. (It's fine. He's fine.)

General Kenobi (not to be confused with Padawan Kenobi) decides to declare Maul his new padawan because someone has to deal with this teenager, and Plo already claimed the rest of Ahsoka's training. And Anakin's three, so.

"What do we do with Maul?" "Eh, I can handle him. I dealt with teenage Anakin getting arrested for illegal pod-racing twice a month, I can work with this."

Maul bites, but only slightly more often than Anakin, it's fine

Ahsoka definitely bullies Maul whenever possible

Consider: Rex holding very still because Anakin wanted to be tall, so he climbed Rex. Being unexpectedly climbed is better than being unexpectedly yeeted. It's still extremely nerve-wracking. - Cody is perfectly capable of running around with a backpacking toddler General, but Rex freezes like a statue. - Ahsoka finds this hilarious

You know how little kids like to be thrown around and swung in circles and stuff like that? This must get even more ridiculous with force users. Can throw a child real high and catch them safely. - Rex panics whenever Ahsoka throws her chibified Master

Literally everyone except Rex loves being yeeted. Even Maul can appreciate a good tactical yeet no shut up he's not having fun this is TRAINING - Rex is Suffering - Cody, a very Tired Dad, deserves to mock his vod'ika a little, as stress relief - Rex, a certified Little Brother, shoves Cody off something tall. Jokes on him, Cody thinks freefall is fun too.

Tia asked: So the people who didn’t exist yet got flung bodily back in time and Anakin did the mental time travel. Why did Obi-Wan not become Padawan Kenobi? (I mean “because I want it that way” is def a good enough answer I’m just wondering if there’s any reason.) - Which, well, it really was mostly "I want to" but here's two options, both of which come down to Blame Daughter and Father. 1. They figured a responsible adult Jedi Master was needed to convince people. 2. Nobody was supposed to get de-aged but Daughter figured they needed to make Anakin less liable to kill things for a few years. - Also IDK the Force God-Manifestations also took away any risk of rapid aging and early death from the clones because uhhhhhhhhhhh I said so

Rex and Ahsoka are fumbling their way through a relationship where ages are just really confusing and awkward, so they're keeping it to just kisses and cuddles for a bit.

Cody is so tired he doesn't even realize anyone's hitting on him until it's been three years of co-parenting with Shmi and his General. - Somehow Anakin knows Cody is in a relationship before Cody does. Cody has never been so embarrassed. - How did he manage to be less observant than Skywalker? -- it was sabotage; all his brain cells were taken up in managing said Skywalker -- Because Skywalker was up at three in the morning whacking a training droid with a stick so he didn't have the energy for Relationships

Also Shmi's come-ons are super subtle, while the General's are... well, Cody's gotten very used to ignoring anything ambiguous on that end because fraternization rules, and also because Obi-Wan flirts a lot with everyone. So.

Please imagine Cody and General Kenobi walking around with Anakin tucked into a toddler sling while they do whatever work they've ended up with at the Temple. - Yes, Cody is helping the Jedi figure out the best plan of attack to take down this slave ring because his grasp on tactics is phenomenal and he knows how to deploy people at greatest efficiency, but also he's got a nosy toddler on his hip who keeps offering his own insane-but-competent ideas. - General Kenobi ends up with a Council Seat just on account of, like, being the kind of person he is. As often as not, he's got Anakin tucked into his robes, chewing on the ear of a stuffed tooka or something.

IDK what Shmi's doing but apparently Legends had it that some of the administrative and support positions in the Temple were held by non-Jedi civilians? So probably something like that.

GENERAL KENOBI LECTURING PADAWAN MAUL WHILE ANAKIN'S BALANCED ON HIS HIP AND GLARING AT MAUL FOR STEALING HIS DAD

General Kenobi: Ahsoka's babysitting. Anakin: I'm her master, I don't need babysitting, this is-- General Kenobi: Fine, then you need supervision, so that you don't blow up a training salle again. Anakin: And you think Ahsoka would stop me? General Kenobi, eye twitching: Fine, I'm leaving you with Plo.

Even if he’s mentally an adult Anakin always needs supervision Look at canon! Anakin was left without supervision for like two days and he became a Sith

Quinlan gets distracted by how attractive General Kenobi is and tells Obi-Wan "dude, you're gonna be so hot once you can get rid of the stupid haircut" and Obi-Wan pushes him into the nearest pond.

They end up with this weird "Uncle Jango" situation (uncle to Anakin, via weird brotherhood-ish to Cody) because Rex and Cody are just like "Uhhhhhhhhh yeah okay" about him eventually, and Jango just like. Drops by. Trying to Earn Affection Of Blood Kin by bringing weird gifts for them and their (ugh) Jedi.

"Okay, Rex'ika, I stopped by Shili--" "What?" "--and apparently this is a delicacy there, so just... your girlfriend will like it." "She's not my girlfriend." "..." "Okay, I can't call her my girlfriend. Jedi have rules about that sort of thing, and--" "This will make your Jedi happy, probably. Just take it, kid."

Baby Anakin got his arm back but for some inexplicable reason still has The Eye Scar. He matches Buir.

[donutloverxo]

Good little girl

*gif is not mine*

Note - Requested by @holacia2 and a part two to good little wife. And special thanks to @gotnofucks for all her help! I'm so overwhelmed with all the love that fic got I hope y'all like this little follow up as well❤❤

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Summary - Married life isn't always easy. Will you be able to solve your problems?

Warnings - 18+ only explicit sexual content, younger woman/older man, daddy kink, soft dark!Andy, SO MUCH MISOGYNY, housewife kink, innocence kink, (accusations of) cheating, arranged/forced marriage, spanking, possessive Andy.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 4.9k

Masterlist is linked in the bio and the pinned post!

You handed your mother the brownies you had baked, she thanked you, telling you how it was so unnecessary, before Andy placed the wine you had gotten on the way over on the kitchen counter.

“Why don’t you go keep your father in law company, Andrew?” your mom told him. He only nodded before making way to his boss.

“So? How are things going with him?” she asked. “You are positively glowing honey! Do you have any good news yet?”

“Mom!” you gasped.

Over the past seven months you had only seen your mother a handful of times. You were still a bit upset with her for marrying you off to an older man you barely knew, a man who you thought despised you so much he refused to even touch you.

You knew she didn’t really have a say in it. Your father never really valued her opinion, there was no way she would’ve been able to stop it but she hadn’t even so much as tried.

“No, I don’t. And I won’t any time soon,” you huffed.

While being a mother was something you’d like to experience someday, you didn’t know if you were quite ready for it yet. Which was good because Andy didn’t want kids for the next few years either, he had taken you to a doctor to get you on birth control as soon as the holidays were over.

He stated that he wasn’t ready to share you just yet. That he wasn’t sure he wants his kids to be a part of the mob, which you didn’t want either.

“Oh, but you have to, cookie. I need a distraction. Being a mom is all I’ve ever known and ever since you left the house has been so empty.”

“Well, what about daddy?” you frowned. He had never really liked spending time with your siblings or your mother, but to leave her be on her own like that.

“He’s always with Charlotte,” she rolled her eyes. “I would’ve been fine with it, he’s always been like that, can’t expect him to change now, but he brought her here, now, to a family dinner.” She sighed in resignation.

You had heard a familiar high pitched annoying laugh upon coming home, but you thought that to be one of your brothers floozies.

Charlotte, or Cherry, used to be a good friend of yours in college. Before you brought her home for the holidays of your freshman year and she decided to shack up with your married father, who was almost thrice her age. You lost touch with her after that.

“I’m telling you, honey, a kid is a good way of securing your marriage and starting a family. You are young now... but you will grow old someday. Andrew’s a good man... but he is still a man at the end of the day.”

You scoffed at that, “I won’t have you talking that way about my husband! We are already a family, we’re in love each other and he’s nothing like dad.”

She gave you a teary smile, “Young love--is just so innocent and beautiful. You always see the best in people, cookie. I hope I’m wrong about this. Any man would be an idiot to not appreciate you.”

“Andy does appreciate me. And take good care of me, ma...” you trailed off.

He did take good care of you. After the night you consummated your marriage he brought you breakfast in bed. He hadn’t kept his hands off of you for the past few weeks, doting on you any chance he could get, telling you he loved you every chance he got.

But you wondered... did he love you?

The kind of love you’d only ever read about in classical novels. The kind of love you’d dreamt of having ever since you could remember, the kind you thought you once had with someone, but didn’t. You didn’t love Alex the way you love Andy. You were in love with the idea of Alex. You knew Andy now. You knew how kind, passionate and fierce he was, your love for him consumed every single part of you. Where you would literally die for him.

But did he love you for you. Or was he just lonely because it was Christmas. You had avoided taking the tree and the decorations down, begging him, even dropping to your knees and making love to him with your mouth, you didn’t know much but Cherry had taught you that you could get men to do anything for you just by kneeling before them.

While he was very obviously pleased with your passion, returning the favor tenfold, till your thighs burned from his bread and you were shouting for him to stop, he still took the decorations down. He said he wanted to start anew this year. He made a resolution to be the best husband he could.

But you were going to protect your heart this time, hope for the best but still prepare for the worst.

Unfortunately, you had been seated next to Cherry. You found out that your father was living with her now and that while she had hoped he’d leave his wife for her there, but apparently there was no such luck.

“They never leave their wives do they,” she shook her head. “Oh I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be saying these things to you...”

“Its alright,” you shrugged. It would be hard to see your mother be unhappy but there was never any love between your parents. Your mother had learned to live without him and find happiness in other things, and other people, she was just a bit more sneaky about it.

“Well...” you hesitated “how do you keep a man?”

“What kind of question is that?” she giggled. “There are many ways to keep a man but you’ll have to be a bit more specific...”

You ended up changing the subject. The kind of questions you wanted to ask were not suitable for the dinner table, and you didn’t like the way Andy was staring daggers at the pair of you, almost displeased with the two of you chatting.

***

You smiled at him from the passenger seat when he put his hand on your knee, giving it a light squeeze. He had been quite the whole ride home so you decided to speak first.

“Can’t believe Cherry’s like my... step mom.” You laughed out loud at such a ridiculous notion.

“Step mom?” he furrowed his brows, turning his head to look at you.

“Oh I’m just joking,” you waved him off. “Dad would never leave my ma. He’ll move on to another one soon enough.”

He hummed, nodding, “Alright. I was just worried she was troubling you at dinner.”

“What would you have done if she was? Would you swop in like a knight in shining armor and save me from the big meanie?”

“You know I would,” he smiled.

You had asked for a piggy back ride from Andy from the garage to your home, he rolled his eyes and tried to say no but then gave in when you used your princess eyes on him.

He placed you on top of your bed, kissing the tip of your nose, he started unbuttoning his shirt to get ready for bed.

“Andy... um... Daddy?” you corrected yourself instantly.

He liked you addressing him as that whenever you both were alone, he had warned you that you would receive a punishment if you ever failed to comply.

You didn’t know what his punishment would be and you didn’t plan on finding out anytime soon. You’d withhold all affection from him if he ever dared take away the platinum card from you, or lower your allowance as your father had told him to at the dinner, ‘to tame you' supposedly.

But that wasn’t a very good plan... what if he just looked for love elsewhere.

“What is it, honey?” he asked.

“Um... do you think... you would ever take a mistress?” you gulped and prepared yourself for his answer.

“I wouldn’t...” you sighed in relief, “one woman is enough trouble.” he said flatly.

“Daddy!!” you whined, stomping your foot on the floor and folding your hands over your chest.

And he had the audacity to laugh. His laughter at your expense only fuelled your anger. “Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

He finally stopped laughing, “Look at you being a big girl,” he tried to pinch your cheek but you swatted his hand away. “You don’t wanna be daddy’s little girl anymore?” he pouted.

“No... no I do!” you answered all too eager. “I’m sorry...”

“I’m sorry too, honey. I shouldn’t be making fun of you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” you hugged his hard stomach, rubbing your cheek against his undershirt. “It’s mean, and you promised not to be mean to me.”

“I was just teasing,” he cooed, stroking your hair. And while you knew that and secretly enjoyed it even, you still wanted a serious answer out of him.

“I intend to keep my vows forever. There is just no way I could ever want anyone who’s not you.”

“Really?” you propped your chin on his abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Promise.”

***

“Um... I’m here to see Andy,” you told the lady sitting outside of, what you had been told was Andy’s office, you assumed her to be his secretary Erica.

You always packed a lunchbox for Andy, always remembering to leave a sweet note for him and he would always call you to thank you for it. You also made sure to have dinner ready before he got home on the nights he wasn’t taking you out on the town. It was just your duty as a good wife.

But Andy had been working way too much the past couple of weeks. Where he would be gone before you wake up and be back when you were already in bed. You knew his job was demanding, working for your father and being a partner in a law firm, the job was like a mistress, stealing your man away...

So you simply decided to make his favorite, food pack it up and come to him to eat it together.

“Mrs Barber! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she gave you a toothy smile, shaking your hand.

You would’ve been happy, elated that Andy talks so much about you at work. If you hadn’t smelled her perfume. So familiar... you couldn’t quite place it at first but then you remembered.

The night you had slaved away, hoping to profess your love to your husband, when he had rejected you and smelled of chanel.

“That’s a nice scent...” you wondered out loud.

“Oh thank you! I love it as well,” she said, taking in a whiff of the inside of her wrist. “It’s the new chanel one!”

“Hmm....”

You almost didn’t hear Andy calling for you. “What a nice surprise.” He kissed your cheek.

You set the food before him, thinking of telling him what was on your mind.

Was he really so cliché to have an affair with his secretary?

Could you really blame him though? Although you had been married for almost seven months, you were strangers living under the same roof for the majority of them. He wasn’t really cheating... but what if he was still doing it?

“Honey,” he shook you to get your attention. “What’s up with you today? I have a meeting in a few minutes.”

“You’re always working.” You complained.

“Well...” he grinned, grabbing at your thighs and pulling you on his lap, “I have to. If I had the choice I would never come into work, I would stay home forever, between your legs, right... here,” he snaked a hand up your leg and stroked the inside of your thigh. “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, “I’ve been so lonely without you.”

He hummed, biting the shell of your ear before speaking into it, “I know, honey. I miss you too. But you do still remember the number one rule right?”

“Yes, daddy. Never touch myself without your permission.”

“And why is that?”

You whined, to embarrassed to say the words, “Because... it’s your... pussy.” You replied in a small shy voice.

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s mine to do whatever I want with,” he cupped your mould, just to demonstrate what he meant but then frowned when he felt your soft curls and wet slick against his palm.

“You’re not wearing any panties, sweetheart.” He noted, surprised to your boldness.

“Um... I must’ve forgot.”

So maybe you had ulterior motives behind coming here. Your body was used to be doted on everyday now, and to not have his touch for so long was agonising. You had hoped to maybe bend down to pick up a napkin that fell ever so conveniently and flash him, it would work, he would be driven mad.

“Forgot huh?” You nodded in reply as he gathered your slick in his fingers, tracing your labia with them. “That’s too bad, If you had left them on purpose I would’ve cancelled my meeting and fucked you right here. But since it was just an innocent mistake I wouldn’t do that,” he retreated his hand, placing a soft kiss on your hair. “Thanks for lunch.”

***

You were determined to prove your worth to Andy. If he did have a mistress, whether it be his secretary or any other woman, he would forget all about her when he saw how you could do everything for him.

You had went all out today, baking a pie and a four course meal from scratch, lighting up candles, the pink babydoll that Andy had gifted you was under your dress.

He was as always exhausted when he got home, his face visibly lighting up upon seeing you, you took his hand in yours taking him to the couch and making him a glass of whiskey, you handed it to him before kneeling on the soft rug.

“You work so hard, daddy,” you murmured as your fingers worked on unzipping his pants.

He looked at you in confusion, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do that, honey,” cupping your cheek in his plan, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“But I want to make you feel good,” you blinked at him.

He groaned, unable to say no when you looked so willing to please him, but at the same time he wanted to do more with you. To cuddle and watch a movie and talk, it felt as if he hadn’t in ages.

“Very well,” he nodded.

With the green signal from him, you licked your lips, tasting some of your minty gloss, taking his length out of the confines of his underwear, you took a minute to simply marvel at the sheer size and beauty of it.

You licked a stripe up the underside of it, suckling at the crown, you remembered that he liked that the best, at least from the way he twisted his hand in your hair, pulling at it till it caused a slight burn to your scalp.

You slurped his precum up before he pushed his hips up till his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him, didn’t take him long to come down your throat.

His neck and cheek covered in a crimson blush, his chest heaving as he threw his head back against the couch.

“You did good, honey...” he rasped. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He absolutely loved the dinner you had made for him. But when you subtly, because you were raised to be a good lady and wife, tried to coax him to make love to you before bed, he.... rejected you.

Sure, he was kind about it. He told you he was simply tired and would make it up to you. But it was still shocking how a man as insatiable as him would ever say no. You truly didn’t know what to make of it.

***

“Oh... I don’t know about this... it’s a bit too bold for me,” you bit your lip.

“Just try it on! You might end up liking it!” Cherry urged you, putting the bright red lipstick on you without waiting for an answer, “There is nothing more classic than a red lip. Or a red anything. Men go crazy for it.” She told you.

You simply hummed through closed lips as she put some finishing touches on it. “Doesn’t that look nice?” she asked, holding up a mirror before you.

You smiled, it did look different. Maybe different was what you needed. “It’s very pretty. It makes me feel... confident?” Which was strange. Because how could a simple lipstick make you feel confident?

“See! I told you. Confidence is the key to sexiness. Now, let’s talk lingerie.”

***

“Honey, I’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes,” you heard Andy call out to you from the bedroom.

“Just a minute,” you said, perfecting your edges with a lip brush.

This was something you had never done before. You wore a lot of lingerie for Andy, but most of them were cute pastels or white nighties or babydolls. Nothing like what you were wearing right now...

A sheer black lacy body suit that clung to your body, leaving literally nothing to the imagination.

Top that off with your red lip... you looked like some kind of dominatrix. Cherry told you that most men secretly wish to be dominated. Although you highly doubted your daddy would want anything like that. Or would he?

“Alright, I’m coming out,” you announced, before shyly stepping out, your eyes trained on the floor as you twiddled with your fingers to maybe distract you from your nerves. “What do you think?”

He was speechless. His jaw almost dropping on the floor when he saw you like that. So far from his sweet girl. You were just as much beautiful and sexy, and while it wasn’t something he was used or prefer to he would welcome it if it was what you wanted.

He extended an arm to you, ready to tell you that you were sexy, that he wanted to spend hours worshipping every inch of your body, that he wanted his cock stained the shade of red you wore on your lips, that he was ready to make up for being away for weeks.

Until he saw... that.

He lowly growled your name, making your head snap up to look at him, “What did you do to your pussy?” Because from what he could see, through the sheer material, there was nothing where your pubic hair used to be.

“Uh... I uh... waxed it...” From the tone of his voice you could tell that he wasn’t too happy about it. “Do you not like it?”

“Like?” he scoffed, shaking his head. Taking a seat on the bedding, “C'mere, let me take a closer look.”

Hesitantly, you walked the few strides it took till you were standing before him.

He studied your mould, trying to take the fabric off so he could see it more properly and then tutting when he couldn’t even open the stupid thing.

“Wait, it um... opens here I think,” you interrupted his scrutiny, undoing the zipper that was on your side and taking the suit off of you.

He sighed in resignation when he saw what you had done, making you regret your ever spending so much money and going through all that pain.

He parted your lips apart, running his fingers along your vulva, acquainting himself with this new strange feel of you, “When did do this?” his blue eyes looked up at you.

“Just a couple of days ago. It’s just hair... it’ll grow back in like three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” he scoffed.

You could feel your eyes getting misty. You tried to go all out for him, to please him, be completely naked and vulnerable before him, only to have him get angry at you.

“You don’t like it,” you sniffled.

His furrowed brow softened when he saw you crying, pulling you down till you were straddling his lap, “The question isn’t whether I like it or not,” he explained, his thumb wiping your wet cheeks, “I could... maybe live with it. But I wouldn’t prefer it.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“But for you to have done this,” he touched your newly waxed skin and almost winced at the smoothness, “You must’ve let someone else see you naked. See what belongs to me.”

“Bu - but they were all women...” you stammered, squirming in his lap as his fingers toyed with your clit.

“It doesn’t matter,” he tutted, pushing two fingers inside you, “Only I get to see you. This is MY pussy. Only I get to decide what to do with it. Do you understand?”

You nodded, holding onto his tshirt as he twisted his fingers inside you. “So-sorry, daddy.”

“No, honey, since you were bad you don’t get to call me daddy. For tonight you will address me as sir. And of course you’ll have to be punished.”

“Punished?” you pouted. “Can’t you just let me go since it was my first strike? I’ll be good from now on I promise!”

“No, you have to learn your lesson. Come on,” you yelped as he manhandled you so you were face down across his lap, “What is your safe word?”

“Unicorns” you giggled. You thought you were so witty for coming up with it. Since he for some reason was jealous of your unicorn stuffie.

He hummed, stroking the soft skin of your butt, “How does twenty sound?”

Your eyes went wide as you gasped, looking at him over your shoulder, “No!” you said.

He didn’t really plan on spanking you... did he? He liked swatting your ass here and there, and truth be told you liked it too. But you had never been spanked or even hit as a punishment.

“Well, if not this then maybe we can make you go a week without cumming.”

Your gasp was louder and even more incredulous this time. You could most definitely take twenty swats, but just the thought of not being able to finish, after knowing what an orgasm with Andy feels like, made you shiver.

“You will count each one, and then thank me for it. You are grateful I’m teaching you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded.

“Do you know how to count to twenty? Or would I have to teach you that too?” he asked ever so condescendingly as you huffed.

“Of course I do! I was just two semesters away from graduating college!” Never mind that you learned that in kindergarten.

“That’s good. Are you ready?” he asked, cracking his knuckles as he got in position.

With a nod from you he delivered the first slap to your right buttcheek, the sound of it reverberating in the room, his palm stinging slightly as he stroked the skin he had just punished, it was already warmer.

“One, sir. Thank you, sir,” you held onto a moan, it wasn’t half as bad as you thought it would be...

You jerked forward as he unceremoniously hit your other cheek, since you were unprepared for it, and he was much more brutal.

“Tw-two, sir,” you sniffled.

You considered throwing in the towel and saying your safe word by the time fifteen rolled around. Your behind was on fire, while you couldn’t see it, you just knew it was bruised. But you wanted to be good for Andy and it was wrong of you to do something that drastic without his permission.

“Sixteen...” you hiccupped. You could feel your slick running down your thighs but at this point... you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Do you want a break?” he asked, taking pity on you.

You nodded frantically, “Yes please! Can you... can you touch me? Down there?” Since the pain in your throbbing pussy was unbearable. If you didn’t receive any attention, you might actually burst.

“Down where? Here?” He had the audacity to play down, while you were suffering, and touch the back of your knee to patronise you.

“No!” you whined.

“Well then you’ll have to be a bit more specific, princess.”

“In my... between my legs... my pussy...”

“Are you sure you deserve it though?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that, “No I don’t. Not until I finish my punishment.”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his hand massaging your raw ass as your heart swelled in pride.

“Nineteen, sir,” your mind was hazy. It didn’t even feel as if you were in your reality anymore... it was as if you were floating, while you could still hear and feel him spanking you, for some reason it wasn’t as painful anymore.

“The last one, doll, hang in there,” he said before delivering the last swat.

You whimpered, “Twenty, thank you, sir,” willing your nose with the back of your hand.

Andy collected your weak form in his big string arms, rocking you back and forth in his lap as he kept whispering soft praises in your hair, “My sweet beautiful doll,” he pecked you on your lips.

“Sorry about your pants, daddy...” you said when you realised what a wet mess you had made on him.

He shushed you, “Don’t you worry about that right now. Do you want to take a bath?”

You pouted, your red lip jutting out, “No.”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead, “Do you want daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“We have to be careful about your butt, baby,” he said as he gently placed you on the mattress.

Your head on your pillow, besides your two most trusted stuffies--your unicorn and teddy. Andy only allowed you two in the bed after complaining they made it hard for him to cuddle you. You demanded he buy you a shelf to display them or you would go back to your old room. Which of course made him comply instantly.

You made grabby hands at him, impatient to have him closer to you, but then were glad he took the time to take off his tshirt so you could ogle the wide expanse of his chest, the light scattering of fuzzy hair over it, his numerous tattoos along with one of your name, which marked him as yours forever.

He took a hardened nipple in his mouth while his hand tweaked the other, nudging your legs apart to make room for him, he placed his length at your entrance.

Slowly pushing into you, letting you get accustomed to the size of him. Although your pussy was always so welcoming to him, he knew you often struggled to take him.

You whimpered at him, tears rolling off of your face. “What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt?”

“No... it’s just so good,” you sniffled.

“Okay, just hold on,” you held onto his shoulders as he slowly fucked in to you.

Your pussy clamping around his length, the soles of your feet digging into his ass, “Can I come, daddy?”

“Of course, baby. You earned it.” He groaned, his hips hammering against yours as you bit his neck, letting out a muffled scream.

You hummed against his neck when you felt his warm release fill you up, he pulled out of you, frowning when he looked at your naked and hairless pussy, dripping with his cum.

“From now on I’ll be picking out your clothes,” he stated, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms.

“Okay, daddy,” you hummed.

“And no more surprise bikini waxes.”

“Mmm...” If that’s what you had to do to get in trouble and be punished, then so be it. “We’ll see.”

***

Three days later

“Lotion time, doll,” Andy said, pausing the movie you were both watching to go get said lotion.

He had rubbed your lotion on your backside when he spanked you and decided that he wanted to be the one putting your body lotion on you from now on since he had too much fun doing it. He insisted on doing it twice everyday since it was still very cold.

You followed him to the bedroom, lying face down on the bed a he squeezed some on his palms, rubbing them together to warm them up.

You winced just a little, your skin still a bit sensitive, you even had to sit on a pillow the time.

“Will you be going back to work tomorrow?” you wanted to know.

He didn’t like the sadness in your voice, “Yes,” he sighed. He hated leaving you all by yourself.

“I’ll be all alone then.”

“Didn’t you want to go back to college?” He remembered you telling him that your parents forced you to drop out so that you would marry him.

“I do actually. Hate leaving things incomplete... maybe I can even go to a law school and become a lawyer like you!” you perked up.

“You’re not working for your father though, you’re too good for that world.”

“You’re too good for him too.” You said. “Maybe I can work with you.” And you and him could be like a power couple. It would be so exciting.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[letarasstuff]

Making the Voice quieter

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it!

Summary: Spencer finds out about his daughter's eating disorder, he will he react?

Warnings: Angst, discription of an eating disorder (bulemia to be more specific), discription of (binge) eating, bad body image, self hatred, abuse of pills (diet pills)

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨

______________________________

Prison. Cat. Diana. All those things happened close to each other. Luckily a few months have passed since then and slowly everything settles down. Spencer is able to get his feelings sorted through, processing the events.

Ever since his imprisonment he follows a more or less strict routine, given the uncertainty coming with his job. Spencer still tries to keep it up. So is every Friday dedicated to buying the majority of groceries and needed non food articles.

Sometimes (Y/N) tags along, other days she already has plans with her friends. Her father doesn’t mind it much, he is happy to see her socializing with people her age. The two of them have one father-daughter-night in the week anyways.

“Sweetheart, I’m heading out! Did you put everything you need on the list?” He shouts into the apartment. A faint “Yes! Love you!” echoes back to him. A smile forms on the doctor’s face. Oh how he longed to hear those words from her every night while he laid in his bed, locked up for a crime he didn’t commit. “Alright, love you, too!”

Meanwhile her father has to deal with Karens being their ignorant selfs, (Y/N) is under the biggest stress she has ever been. The end of her sophomore year and suddenly every teacher thinks it’s alright to give the students a load of work in every single class.

It’s beginning to get to her head. Four essays, three projects and studying for two tests and everything is due next week. She can see herself sitting at that very desk for the whole weekend, trying to contain control of her current situation.

As (Y/N) begins to read the page in front of her again to pull any information from it, it feels like her brain shuts down. Only one thought possesses her. One thing that can assure her, make her happy again.

Her body moves automatically, into the kitchen to the fridge. Her hands grab what they can. Puddings, yogurts, bananas, apples, last night’s dinner, everything that she can carry. Then the teenager sits down at the floor and devours everything she just got out. (Y/N) doesn’t stop until she gets to this intense feeling of being full.

It seems like she snaps out of a trance. Upon seeing what she ate in the shortest time, the girl feels even worse. Quickly she tries to destroy any kind of evidence, getting the trash out, making the fridge appear more full than it is, anything.

In her panicked state she remembers the small container of pills in her room. Relief washes over (Y/N), thinking everything will be better. She takes two of them for good measurement.

With the relief also guilt takes over. What just happened wasn’t normal. But (Y/N) tells herself that she can stop any time she wants. It’s not like she is sick or something, everything is fine. It’s just her way to copy stress. A way she discovered while her father was in prison. The diet pills help her to undo her mistakes. Someone from her friend group, who is already 18, got her them from the doctor for a fair price.

Feeling calmer now, the teenager sits back at her desk. A new perception of control helps her to continue her school work. She has to get done as much as possible, because in not even half an hour (Y/N)’s best friend will be the toilet.

Spencer is completely obvious to it. Sure, he is a profiler and he noticed his daughter’s new view on eating healthy food and working out. He just assumes that (Y/N) and her friends are on a healthy trip and he doesn’t see a problem in this. On the contrary, he is happy that she wants to be good to herself and her body.

But as the weeks go on, a suspicious feeling captures him. “(Y/N)? Why is the fridge nearly empty? We got groceries last Friday and it’s only Tuesday. Did you have a party over here while I was away on the case?” Spencer enters his daughter’s room, trying to joke about it.

(Y/N) freezes. Of course she isn’t able to say that the food went bad and she threw them away, her father is meticulous regarding this subject, always checking the best before day date. “Uhm, please don’t be mad. But Alex, you know her, the short one with red hair, uhm her parents are on a business trip and she is not the best cook. So I brought her lunch and dinner over. I’m sorry for not telling you.” She looks down at the floor, not only to feign sadness but also to avoid his eyes.

The second the teenager talks Spencer knows there is something fishy. Her voice is higher and she fidget with her hands. But he writes it off as being nervous for not telling him. Ever since he is out of prison, it feels like his daughter is withholding something.

“It’s fine, Sweetheart. Just give me a heads-up beforehand, so I know to buy more groceries. What do you think about ordering something tonight? I heard from Luke that a small Chinese restaurant opened a few streets down. We can celebrate the end of the stressful phase in Sophomore year.”

It seems like (Y/N) is calculating something in her head. Spencer knows exactly what she thinks about. “You can forget about your calorie intake for one night. I see how much time you invest in living healthy, but we can let loose for a night together. Just some noodles with chicken or spring rolls and us trying to use chopsticks and giving up after two minutes and resorting to forks. How does that sound?”

The teenager would love to sigh, but it would only alarm her father further. “Yeah, you are right. Let us let loose. But only if I can choose the movie we watch after dinner!” (Y/N) feels bad for eating unhealthy food again. Her last binge was only yesterday and usually she tries to consume lighter things. But she has to bite into the sour apple, else her father will be more suspicious. After all, she can just stop. (Y/N) promises herself to not think about her weight, her shape or the calories she will eat.

Well yeah, no. Just after the first noodle hits her tongue, intrusive thoughts take a seat in her mind, getting settled.

‘You already look like a potato.’

‘Are you sure this is the right thing to eat?’

‘Can you really stop?’

‘Dad is going to hate you when he finds out.’

All of them and more enter her head. (Y/N) is unable to shake them off. She is fine. She doesn’t have a problem. She just doesn’t feel like eating now, that’s fine, right?

“Uhm Dad. I’m full and really tired from the day. Is it ok if I go to bed? Maybe we can rain check on that movie?” The girl asks, feeling even worse for ditching her father. Usually it’s the other way around.

“Are you feeling ok? You look a little pale. Are you sick?” Spencer fires his question canone being the borderline helicopter father he always is. “Yes, just really exhausted from all the assignment and school work. A good night's rest and I will be good as new.” (Y/N) attempts a small smile, but fails miserably at it.

“Ok, sleep tight baby. I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for you tomorrow.” Quickly she goes into her room. The thoughts in her head scream louder and louder with each step she takes. Can she really stop? Maybe she should come clean to her father.

‘And risking him hating you? Look at you, thinking you are sane is the only thing keeping him from abandoning you. How would you explain him keeping you otherwise? It’s definitely not for your looks.’

Later that night, (Y/N) hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep because of the voices, she makes her way back to the kitchen. In an attempt to distract herself, the teenager scrolled through her social media sites. There she was met by pictures of perfect people.

Perfect bodies. Perfect lives. Perfect smiles. Perfect family. Perfect friends. Everything about them is perfect.

And then there is her. Her body is unperfect. Her life is a mess. Her smile is not that of a model. Her family is just her, her father and the people he works with. Her friends aren’t always the best associates.

The stress of not feeling enough is getting to (Y/N)’s head. Like several times before that her body goes into auto. She doesn’t control her movements, though she tells herself all of this is willently.

Like so many times before the girl goes through the fridge and eats everything up she can get her fingers on. But this time one thing is different. Her father is at home. And he isn’t a heavy sleeper.

The movement in the kitchen wakes him up. Immediately his brain jumps to a burglar or even worse, an UnSub they once arrested coming after him. Quickly he gets his revolver and sneaks through the hallway to the source of the noises. As Spencer only sees his daughter sitting there, he instantly relaxes.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing up? It’s a school night”, he softly asks in order to not scare her. Still, (Y/N) gets startled at the sudden voice.

“Uhm, nothing much. Just hungry. Probably because I didn’t eat dinner”, she explains, looking at her father like he caught her with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. Spencer watches her closely. “This is it? Because from what it looks like you not only ate your dinner but also tomorrow’s breakfast and right now lunch.”

(Y/N) swallows her bite, feeling that sinking reality in her stomach. The pills. She needs the pills fast before her body begins to digest the food. “Uhm, yeah. I probably should go to bed. I need my sleep. Just let me tidy up. Good night, Dad.” But he is quick to stop her.

“(Y/N), I want you to sit down. There is something we have to talk about.” Hesitantly (Y/N) takes a seat. “What is it Dad? Are you reprimanding me for eating? I thought you wanted me to let loose for a night.”

Spencer sits, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Baby, I want you to be alright. But I think you are not.” His eyes get a sad look. “I’m alright. I am fine, Dad. What do you think is wrong with me?”

“Look, (Y/N), I don’t need to be a profiler to see that you are struggling with something. Do you want to tell me about it?” Her answer is a tight lipped smile and a “I’m fine. There is nothing to talk about.”

The father sighs. She is not leaving him much of a choice. “And what about them?” Spencer asks after getting something from the highest shelf in the kitchen, the one (Y/N) barely reaches by stepping on a stool. He sets a little container down on the table.

“Dad I-” “No (Y/N). You don’t need to explain anything. It’s my turn to talk. I found those in your room yesterday while I was looking for a book. At first I thought nothing of it, I mean you are trying to live healthy, so I thought this is part of the process. But then I saw that they have to be prescribed and I know that these aren’t yours.

“I wanted to talk about it with you anyway. But now I know that I caught you binge eating and I see all the signs. I see them and I’m sorry for not acting sooner. (Y/N), you need help and I’m here for you. I know the last few months were especially hard on you. I can’t change what was and what happened, but I will be here for you now." Tears stream down on boths their faces.

(Y/N) is stammering for words. “I-I am fine. I can stop anytime I want. Th-this was a conscious d-decision.” Her father envelops her in a hug, cradling her head to his chest. She begins to sob.

“I know, Sweetheart. It’s hard and it won’t get easier from here on, but I’m here. You know you can’t stop, it’s only an illusion your eating disorder wants you to believe. But we get through it together. You, I and the team if you want to. We take it at your pace.” By now the two are crying loudly.

“I want it to stop, Dad. Please make the voice go away.”

He can’t make it go away. No one can. But Spencer helps to quiet it. Together they tackle the disorder, through the good and the bad times. He takes off from work for a time and (Y/N) out of school for a few weeks to be able to work on it together, to make the voice quieter and her life better.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

[the-sound-of-her-wings]

I Am Not Starfire, And That's Okay

I recently read I Am Not Starfire and I had lots of thoughts, which are under the cut. It is spoiler-heavy and an analysis of the main character, who I find to be a charming, flawed, and incredibly human character.

Mandy is a fascinating character and a great look at a teenage girl who feels ostracized by the people around her and who feels disconnected from her parent. Mandy is by no means flawless, and that's what makes her very interesting. It also makes her relatable.

Mandy starts by talking about how she's noticeably different from her mom, being the "Anti-Starfire". She's a regular kid, can't fly, and doesn't own a swimsuit, while her mom is a superhero, can fly, and always wears bikinis.

On page 11 she mentions "her mom hasn't liked how I looked since I was twelve. She wears less than a yard of fabric every day, yet somehow, I'm the one who's dressing weird". While I understand people who call this slut-shaming, and I'm inclined to agree, but I think it's a little more nuanced than that. The next page reads, "My friend Lincoln convinced me this is the cultural divide that happens between family generations born in different countries or universes. His parents were born in Vietnam." This tells me that the authors intended to point out the difference in dress more as another difference between Starfire and Mandy, and less as a reason to blatantly slut-shame Starfire. I think there's absolutely a conversation to be had about why the authors decided to use this language instead of conveying the point differently. I also think it speaks to how Starfire has more or less been sexualized from inception, and how people look down upon her character because of that. In the context of this book, though, it's one of Mandy's character flaws that I think fits her both as a character and reflects what I've seen from actual teenage girls. Our society coaches us to view women who dress a certain way as less than women who don't and unlearning that takes time and effort. I don't think this comment about her mom should have been put in there by the authors, but I do think it fits in with the values American society in particular teaches about women.

Page 15, 16, and 17 all point to a far more complicated state of existence than Mandy points out within the first few pages. For one thing, Mandy has to deal with people who love her mother and only want to use her to get information about her mom and the other teen titans. This is shown by the "Titan groupies" who ask her to tell Starfire what they say about her. Another thing she has to deal with is the expectation to be a superhero and have powers like her mom, and the questions about who her dad might be. She gains her first real friend, Lincoln, because he tells the people asking about her parentage that they are assholes.

It is revealed that Mandy has a crush on Claire after she gets assigned a group project with her. Mandy is in denial over the crush. She thinks about the fact she's meeting Mandy at the end of the day throughout the rest of the school day, causing her to explode something in Chemistry Class. I find this to be highly relatable and gives her character a softer side to the edginess she desperately tries to portray herself as.

While talking about the project with Claire, it is revealed that Mandy ran out of her SATs and didn't complete them. While Mandy tries to paint this as a cool badass moment, the way the comic artist portrays the scene makes me think Mandy had an anxiety attack. Mandy didn't run out of her SAT because she's some kind of alternative badass who doesn't need to take them. Mandy ran out because she got overwhelmed by the sounds of people chewing and the pressure of the test. While she frames it differently, it's clear to me that Mandy is avoiding taking the SAT again because she doesn't want that to happen again.

When Claire invites her to hang out with her friends, Mandy gets treated like she isn't there, or as some kind of unwanted outsider. The topics they discuss seem to be specifically made to make Mandy uncomfortable, like mentioning how stretchy jeans are only made for fat people, and asking if aliens don't go to college. Jaded by this, Mandy makes up that aliens actually have to go through this huge blood right and battle to the death, but tells Claire's two friends she was joking before leaving. This tells me that Mandy deflects her pain by using humor to cope and has no issue clowning on people who are trying to belittle her for being an alien.

Starfire tries to bring up going to college after this, and Mandy just flees to her room. She hasn't told her mom she didn't take the SAT yet or that she isn't going to college. She feels distant from her mom, which is explained further through a montage of birthdays where she never got her powers. Her mom expects a lot from her, and Mandy thinks Starfire is disappointed about her lack of powers.

Later, Mandy invites Claire over to her house to complete the project they are working on. The Titans are still there when Claire arrives, but she seems to ignore them, as they leave shortly after. Mandy and Claire bond as they continue the project. Mandy reveals to the reader that she's never had a girlfriend, except for one time at sleep-away camp where she kind of dated a girl for four weeks. She didn't tell her who her mom was because she was tired of living in the shadow of a superhero. But the relationship ended because Mandy had lied about who her mom was, and the girl she was dating didn't understand why she would lie. I think this really shows just how much Mandy actually wants to be a normal girl like everyone else, to the extent that she'd lie about who her mom was. Her edgy demeanor at school and around town where her mom is known to be her mom is a defense mechanism to having lived under the shadow of a superhero her entire life.

When it's revealed that Claire took a photo with the Titans at Mandy's house, Mandy is understandable heartbroken, and furious. She thought she had been making a real connection with Claire, but this photo makes her think she's been used, again. Claire seems genuinely baffled by Mandy's reaction to this, thinking little of it. But to Mandy, it is a breach of trust from someone she thought cared about her. I think her angry reaction to Claire makes sense because of this, even if it might have been disproportionate to the offense.

On top of this, Starfire has discovered that Mandy walked out of the SAT and doesn't plan to go to college. After a heated conversation, she runs away, but her mom finds her. And then Blackfire finds her. Turns out the fake story she told Claire's friends earlier in the story was actually true, even though Mandy didn't know it.

Since Claire actually cares about Mandy, she tracks down Lincoln who explains to her why Mandy reacted badly, and that she should probably apologize for taking the photo. Claire also admits that one of the friends from earlier, Deb, actually dared her to take the photo. Claire is a good person at heart, but this action shows that she can still be influenced to do something that would hurt another person. And while she might not have known it would hurt Mandy, Deb probably did.

Starfire and Blackfire fight since Mandy has no powers, but Starfire gets injured causing Mandy to realize just how much she loves and cares about her mom, even though they don't see eye to eye on most things. This finally unlocks her powers, as she's let go of most of the resentment she's held against her mom. She even gets asked for an autograph by someone in the audience after the battle.

The story ends with Mandy training her powers, studying for the SAT, and reconciling with Claire, sharing a kiss, and becoming girlfriends.

I've seen a lot of discourse that frames Mandy as being "not like other girls". I don't believe this framing actually fits Mandy very well. The only girl Mandy ever says she is not like explicitly is her mom. She is the only woman she compares herself too, and the only person who she seems to have a lot of resentment for, aside from people who use her to get to Starfire. Additionally, Mandy falls for someone who is what a stereotypical, normal popular girl is often portrayed as. She's preppy, wears makeup, gets good grades, has friends, and runs a fairly popular Instagram account. If Mandy was extremely into the "Not like other girls" rhetoric, she would've made fun of Claire for all those things. Instead, she admires her for them. Mandy is fat, has acne/freckles, dresses goth, and wears a nose ring. If this is the reason people are identifying her as a "Not like other girls" girl, then they don't understand that trope. Simply dressing differently from your peers, being fat, and hating your mom does not make her the "not like other girls" trope. It actually makes her like other, real-life girls who dress and act similarly, because that's who they are, not because they somehow think they are better than other women.

I'd also make the argument that, fundamentally, Mandy IS different from other girls on the account of having a superhero mother and potentially a superhero father. Her life is completely altered by Starfire's existence as her mom and is likely only relatable to the children of other superheroes and celebrities. She is not like other girls because of her mom, and that still doesn't make her someone who falls in line with the conception of being "not like other girls".

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and hope others do too. I read Mandy as a flawed character who was trying to figure out how to exist outside the Shadow of her mom- and eventually succeeds, by learning to embrace her mom. I would've preferred if Mandy had a slightly darker skin tone, as her features seem black-coded to me and Starfire is also often black-coded. Otherwise, I do think this was one of the best DC Graphic Novels for Young Adults I've read, alongside Teen Titans: Beast Boy and Teen Titans: Raven.

[odos-bucket]

So I was reading @andillwriteyouatragedy​‘s incredible Brand New Day where Bruce and Clark adopt a young Dick Grayson together, and was thinking about a sort of companion story where they take in Jason together too. Using that story as a rough reference, I’m gonna say they’ve been together for a decade or so here. Dick is somewhere in his late teens. I’m figuring Clark probably offers to tag along on Bruce’s annual trip to crime alley every year. Bruce always politely declines. It’s basically become a part of the day’s bleak tradition. Clark is surprised when for once his offer is accepted. Later on, if pressed, neither of them would be able to pinpoint what was different about that night that made Bruce decide that it might be okay to have some company for once. Clark probably feels weird about it at first. Even though he’d asked Bruce if he wanted company, and Bruce had said yes, which he never would have unless he’d absolutely meant it (and Clark knows that). It still feels a little like he’s intruding on something private, even sacred. Then of course they get there, and there’s nothing going on. Superman’s senses don’t pick up the slightest hint of disruption anywhere in the neighborhood. Maybe they start patrolling around it anyways, maybe they just wander for a couple of blocks. Sooner or later they overhear someone talking about how it’s this night every year that Batman comes calling. Local criminals have picked up on the fact that if they just keep their heads down for this one specific night they can pretty much avoid him. Bruce is all grumbly about it, and immediately goes into ~strategy mode~ like, “Okay, I’ll have to start coming here on different days, on an irregular schedule.” He immediately opens up a dozen different tabs in his brain with calendars, and crime statistics, and is thinking a mile a minute, because that’s what he does. He’s kind of agitated about needing to change something that’s been a ritual for so long (because Batman has OCD, fight me) and he’s annoyed at himself for being bothered by it. Absolutely none of this sudden inner turmoil is detectable in his expression or body language. But Clark knows Bruce, knows how he reacts to things, and that there’s no way he’s not annoyed right now. He says, “Sounds like tonight will be a bust if we stay here,” then when Bruce grunts in response, continues, “We could go back to the manor. Watch a movie.” Then after a pause. “Or we could patrol somewhere else.” A moment passes. When Bruce says, “Okay,” Clark isn’t sure which suggestion he’s agreeing to, but they start back towards the car. It’s not a long walk, but they aren’t moving particularly quickly. By the time they get back to the batmobile it only has one wheel.

Clark frowns as he walks closer, before being stopped in his tracks by a surprising sound. It’s a sound that he recognizes immediately, that he hears all too infrequently. Bruce is laughing. Clark’s mouth quirks into a half smile. He takes a few steps forward, thinking about just picking the whole thing up and flying it back home. Then from a few paces ahead he hears Bruce’s low, gravelly Batman voice say, “Hi there.” Once he’s tuned in to the idea of another presence nearby, it becomes obvious to his advanced senses that someone is lurking behind the car. “Shit,” a small voice says. Bruce takes a few steps closer. “Planning on finishing the job?” He gestures to their remaining wheel. Clark shifts until he can get the kid partially in his sight without the aid of x-ray vision. He’s small, and looks to be somewhere in his pre-teens. “I got no idea what you’re talking about,” he says quickly. “Oh really?” Bruce asks. The boy glares at him. “Nice tire iron,” Bruce continues. “Comes in handy.” “I bet it does.” No sooner than the words are out of Bruce’s mouth, the tool is colliding with his shin. The boy shoots out from behind the car, and down a nearby street. Clark starts toward Bruce, who quickly gestures for him to go after the kid instead. He catches up with him in less than a second. When his hand falls onto the kid’s shoulder he freezes, muscles tightening throughout his body, and heart rate speeding up rapidly. The fear response is so sudden and extreme that Clark finds himself pulling away as if he’s been burned. The anxiety around being feared is something he’s mostly left in his past, but there’s a deep rooted insecurity within him that it still prods at. The kid stumbles when he starts to run again, and by then Bruce has caught up. They hang back, but trail after the boy at a distance, until they reach a condemned building a few blocks away. “Should we go in?” Clark asks. “Probably where my tires are,” Bruce says, before climbing through an uncovered doorway. It isn’t hard to find him again. There aren’t too many heartbeats in the area to distinguish between. When Bruce opens the door to the dilapidated room, the boy’s pulse rate jumps through the roof. Nothing changes externally about him though, and Clark wonders whether or not Bruce can tell that he’s afraid of them. There’s the slightest vibration to his words when he speaks. “Okay, take your stupid tires already. I’m sorry, all right? Just leave me alone!” Bruce isn’t looking at his tires. He’s looking around the room, no doubt noticing the same things that Clark has, mold, water damage, a broken window. The place is freezing. Then in the corner there’s a cardboard box with some pasta and canned goods in it, a small stack of books, and a mattress on the floor. “Do you… live here?” Bruce asks. “Yeah. What of it?” Bruce takes a few more steps into the room. “Where are your parents, son?” Clark asks. “Mom’s dead. I dunno where Dad is; don’t really care, if I’m being honest. Now take your stuff and go already!” He’s holding the iron up again, wielding it in a manner that’s clearly meant to be threatening. Bruce plucks it out of his hands with relative ease, inspects it, then turns it around and hands it back. “Move your thumb up like this, and you’ll have a sturdier grip. And don’t stand with your legs so far apart, it’ll put you off balance.” He sighs. “What’s your name?” “… Jason.” He grabs the tire iron back, shuffling to adjust his grip and footing, keeping his stance defensive. Bruce looks around the place again. “You can’t stay here, Jason.” “Oh yeah? Says who? I can take care of myself! Been doing it for long enough.” Bruce glances up at Clark, who can see the wheels turning in his head, before looking back at Jason. “I’d really like the wheels of my car back,” he says carefully, then hurries to continue before Jason can interject. “Can I make you a deal? We’ll buy you dinner if you reattach the batmobile’s tires?”

There’s a fast food place a couple of blocks away that’s open 24 hours. Jason agrees to accompany them, but walks a few yards behind. The employees at the place aren’t at all phased by the appearance of the two vigilantes. Bruce inspects a suspicious stain on one of the walls, while Jason and Clark look at the menu posted above the counter. They order- Bruce gets two of what Jason asks for- then go outside to eat. Bruce is lost in thought as they exit the restaurant, wondering what it would take to bring free food trucks to the area. Jason’s halfway done with his meal by the time they sit down on the sidewalk. “Do you go to school around here?” Bruce asks, wanting to put together a fuller picture of the boy’s situation. Jason gets a distant look in his eyes in response to the question. He finishes chewing slowly, swallows, then shakes his head, clearing his throat before replying. “No. Not for a long time now.” He shrugs. “I got all I needed to out of it.” “You had some pretty advanced reading material back at your place for someone who didn’t finish middle school.” Bruce recalled seeing The Odyssey amongst his few possessions, as well as a couple of Shakespeare plays. Jason shrugs again. “Reading’s not that hard.” “Some people find it very difficult,” Clark says. “Some people are stupid.” Bruce cuts in before Clark can start on the gentle reprimand he can see him preparing. “Ever think that maybe you’re just smart?” Jason gives him a curious look, like that really wasn’t a possibility that he had considered before, then takes another bite, and stares off thoughtfully. “So, Homer,” Bruce prompts. Jason nods. “It’s a fun story. Odi-seuss is a dick though.” Bruce resists both the compulsion to correct his pronunciation of ‘Odysseus’, and Alfred’s voice in the back of his head urging him to tell the kid not to swear. “What makes you say that?” He asks instead. Jason looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Gee, I don’t know, maybe all the pillaging, and murdering he does throughout the entire book.” “Poem,” Bruce corrects. “What?” “The Odyssey is a poem.” “Wait, really?” Bruce hums an affirmative. “Huh… cool. But the point still stands.” “I’m inclined to agree with you. Have you ever read The Scarlet Pimpernel?” Jason shakes his head. “It’s been a personal favorite for a long time,” says Bruce. Clark shoots him an amused grin. “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone throwing out a copy,” Jason says. Bruce frowns. “You have a library around here.” The remark earns him an unamused snort. “It’s a Gotham library; people don’t go there to read books, they go there to buy, sell and/or ingest drugs, and they tend not to be too happy with anybody who’s lingering around while they’re doing it.” Bruce feels a pang, not for the first time that night. “Jason,” he starts, before realizing he isn’t sure what to say. Jason keeps angled to watch him expectantly as he rises to deposit his napkins and bag in a nearby trashcan. “We’d like to help you,” Clark says. “Yeah,” Jason scoffs. “Right. Just how do you plan on doing that? Because I’ve heard that before. I’ve done the whole foster care thing already, and I’m not about to go through it again.” “No,” Bruce is quick to agree. “But there are residential schools in the city. We could help you to get enrolled in one.” Jason seems taken aback by the offer. “…Why?” He asks slowly. “Well for one, because kids should be in school. You’d be provided with room and board for the duration of your time there, which would leave you with less to worry about.” He reaches out to pass Jason the second takeout bag. He’s still lingering at a distance from them. “At least think about it?” “No. I mean, like, why?” Bruce’s eyebrow raises, tugging at the material of his cowl. “What’s in this for you?” Jason continues. “Why do you even care?” “It’s our job,” Clark says. “You’re job is to beat up bad guys.” Clark smiles when Jason mimes punching someone, before saying, “Our job is to help people.” Jason purses his lips. “Don’t boarding schools cost money?” “Most of them offer scholarships,” Bruce says. “I have a few friends who are deans. I could make the necessary introductions to ensure you a place at one of their institutions.“ Jason’s arms are crossed high over his chest, and his expression is set like he’s deep in thought. “I don’t want to end up stuck somewhere where someone else is the boss of me.” “How about you at least come with us to check a couple of these places out,” Bruce suggests. “Just see how you feel about them. No commitment.” Jason’s nose scrunches up. “Where exactly are these places?” He asks. “It varies,” Bruce says. “All within the city.” They watch the boy chew on the inside of his lip for a moment. “Just to see,” he says eventually. Bruce nods. “I’m not getting into a car with you,” Jason adds. “We can take the bus,” Clark offers. Jason raises an eyebrow at that, and his mouth quirks almost into a smile. “Batman and Superman are gonna ride on Gotham’s shitty public transit?” “Why not?” Clark asks. “… Okay,” Jason says, still plainly unconvinced. “Let’s meet back here,” Bruce suggests. “Tomorrow?” Jason takes a minute, but eventually starts to nod. “Sure,” he says. “Why not.” They part ways after Clark disposes of his empty bag. The heroes return to their car.

While they’re driving back Clark says, “I know that look.” Bruce pauses to take stock of his own expression, and makes sure to neutralize anything on his face that might be out of the ordinary. Clark continues, unbothered by the lack of response. “It’s your ‘I’m already deeply emotionally invested in this kid’ look.” Bruce hums noncommittally. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight,” Clark adds. Bruce doesn’t either, but that’s par for the course at this point.

Part Two

[anambermusicbox]

September 29 Day Countdown (26/29): 2016-2018 Radio Interviews on 动感101《小畅翻牌》

2016/12/20

(2:00) Interviewer, knowing Ukraine has renowned music schools, thought Zhou Shen went to Ukraine specifically to study music before she found out he actually was in dentistry and then switched to music; she asks why he went to Ukraine to study.

Zhou Shen: Simple! Because it’s cheap. (T/N: it’s extremely extremely cheap compared to studying abroad in other countries, and Zhou Shen’s family was quite poor)

(3:00) How did you win your parents over?

ZS: I didn’t. I told them, “Hey, I don’t think I can do this” and they were like “What?” I said, “I really can’t do this.” At first, they didn’t really understand what I was going through at the time. They said, even if I had to retake a year or two, they wanted me to keep going. They said, then take some time to improve in the language. I said, “I really can’t do this anymore,” they said no, and later I went against their wishes and applied to the music conservatory anyways.

(7:30) ZS talks about how he didn’t talk to his parents for months after switching schools, until finally his parents told him, “Then in the future, whatever you do is no longer our concern” and then hung up on him. 

ZS: (8:10) They said, okay we’re not giving you money for school, you figure it out yourself. But parents are like this: they say things but don’t go through with it. So they gave me money for tuition but nothing to cover living expenses. (*laughs*) (Interviewer: They said, whether you eat or not is no longer our concern) Yup. (*laughs*) They said they’d give me money for living expenses only if I studied medicine or language. So I had to borrow money from a classmate for food. I held out for 2 months, starved for 2 months before they said, okay since you’re this persistent, even though we’re still against this- (Interviewer: They still don’t want their son to starve to death) Right, they didn’t want to lose a kid. (*laughs*)

Interviewer: (9:00) When did their attitude finally soften towards your decision? 

ZS: After the Voice. (T/N: ZS didn’t tell his parents before he competed on the show; they found out along with the rest of the public when it aired) [...] They thought, ah okay he’ll be able to take care of himself now, he knows what he’s doing.

Interviewer: (9:50) Are they proud of you?

ZS: Oh yeah, they’re absolutely embarrassing. (*laughs*) After the episode aired, my parents- they run a small business, and customers who came by, my parents would be like, “Look :) who this is :)” and the customer would be like “…??…uuhh who is-“ “ITS HUAN YAN, OUR SON SANG IT!!!” (*laughs*) and then the customer is like “uuhhh ehhrmm….” I wanted to die from the embarrassment oh my gOD, it was so awkward. So awkward. Afterwards, I started avoiding being with them when they were with people. (*laughs*) They- they’re parents; they were happy, and then they started to worry. (*laughs*) This career... how long would I be able to do it for...

(11:50) ZS talks about how surprised he was by how popular Big Fish was; after only a few days, a lot of covers started appearing online. The singers for Big Fish and Begonia’s other OSTs were very big names, Eason Chan and Lala Hsu.

ZS: At first, they planned to have another very big name singer to sing Big Fish (T/N: it was supposed to be Faye Wong!), but because of reasons, their plan never came to fruition. The song’s lyricist, Yin Yue, she’s really too good to me. She kept insisting to the director, “Zhou Shen can sing this song, you should let him try,” but the director honestly didn’t care. The production company and the director, they wanted someone had enough influence to promote the film. (Interviewer: But congratulations to them, they ended up choosing the right person for the song! :D)

(19:30) ZS: “[After Masked Singer], my parents, they posted a WeChat moment they was quite touching—they said “Our son sang so well and seeing him work so hard—we want him to continue singing.” (Interviewer: Oh so they go online often?”) Yeah, only because I spent years teaching them.” (*laughs*) 

(19:45) ZS: “Every time I come home, my parents play my songs non-stop. I asked them, aren’t you sick of listening to it? Later I asked my sister, and she told me they play my songs all the time everyday. I felt like, wah (Interviewer: “All these years of being a host, and my own parents are the most avid viewers of my program.”) Wow… auntie uncle, I’m very sorry… (T/N: LKJNASFDFA THIS MADE ME SPIT OUT MY FOOD I WAS EATING HAHAHA) they’re gonna hate me. [...] I think, being a parent is really such hard work.”

2016/12/17

(5:30) ZS talks about how he didn’t sing at all during in his middle school years. Interviewer asks whether he ever tried to conceal his being different from everyone else.

ZS: Actually, when you listen to me talk, I- all these years I’ve already gotten accustomed to making my voice lower, it’s a force of habit. I’ve forgotten what my regular voice is supposed to be like. If I relaxed my throat while speaking it would sound like this—thinner, higher. But now I can’t go back.

(7:50) Interviewer asks whether he’ll try out different styles of music:

ZS: I think right now, people don’t know me well yet. I want people to first know who Zhou Shen is, what kind of songs he sings, and then try other genres, and only then will people want to listen. If release a song, people will be like, who’s Zhou Shen and won’t try listening to it—and if they listen and it’s a genre I’m not good at? Wow, no one’s going to listen.

2018/02/03

(1:50) ZS: “Well for one thing, I really hate my voice. (Interviewer: Why?) A male with this kind of voice is really weird. (Interviewer: It’s unique! It’s memorable. Can you find other people with this kind of voice?) Yup. My dad. (*laughs*) One time, my manager called my dad and he- “Hello?” “Oh hello auntie-” I was like “wAIT WAIT WAIT that’s my dad” (*laughs*) (Interviewer: Can he sing too?) No way, he scares people to death when he sings, he can’t sing. (*laughs*)

(7:45) After Big Fish was released:

ZS: Everyone seemed to like it, it felt- Eh? This is great. After about two weeks though, comments started to appear like: “just found out a man sang this and I feel like vomiting, I deleted this song immediately.” And it wasn’t just this one, there were many comments like it. It was extremely upsetting. I felt like, one of those characters in a sad drama, the kind that gets abandoned and they’re crying like “what did I do to you to make you treat me like this? TT^TT”

Interviewer: It’s like, even if there’s a whole pile of positive comments, if there’s one negative, that’s the one you pay attention to. Even if there are 100 nice comments—

ZS: —if there’s one hurtful comment, that’s the one that sticks with you, exactly! Everyone has this tendency.

(7:20) ZS talks about his duet with Guo Qin again (see translation from another interview talking about it here), how he was just as nervous as he was in his own blind audition and how he would’ve blamed himself if she had lost: “She’s 17—super young, makes me so mad—and she was sitting so calmly; meanwhile, I was standing there, all my limbs trembling—like, who’s supposed to be helping who here?” (*laughs*)

(14:45) About how he’s grateful that he didn’t get popular overnight: 

ZS: If I got popular overnight, I think it would’ve been over for me. Because my singing really did need improvement. Also, I think my album is really important in that in helped me get through a bottleneck period. At that time, I felt like, no matter how I sang it didn’t sound good. I felt like, can I even sing? But the process of recording this album helped me to see where I needed to improve. 

So if I got popular overnight, it really would’ve been over for me, because my singing wouldn’t have improved. It would’ve stopped there. (Interviewer: And you would still believe that you’re really good.) Everyone around you is praising you like (*rapid clapping*) “You sing so well!! You sing so well!! Look at how everyone wants to hire you to sing, you sing super well!!” It’s over- it would really be over. […] I quite like progressing one step at a time.

(18:10) Zhou Shen talks about how, when he got eliminated on the Voice, he wasn’t crying because he lost, but because suddenly going from spending so much time together as a team and having such camaraderie to all but four eliminated was too heartbreaking.

ZS: (20:20) When I got eliminated, I was actually really happy. I don’t like competing, and I felt I didn’t have any pressure on me anymore. I felt bad for Li Wei because I knew there would definitely be a lot more pressure on him now, because now he has to represent our entire team in the future competition. 

After our PK, he—because we both cried so hard—he said (*shrill crying voice*) “Zhou Shen I’ll carry your name and compete to the end!! TT^TT” (*Interviewer laughs*) and I replied, (*shrill crying voice*) “You shouldn’t give yourself so much pressure, don’t carry my name just sing TT^TT” (*laughs*) 

You don’t understand how hard we were crying. After the PK, there had to be a 25-minute intermission because Na-jie had to cry too. So she’s there crying in the mentor area and I’m crying in the eliminated area and Li Wei’s crying in the advancement area. [...] During the blind auditions, every single person earned their place in the team one by one, and now all of them are being taken out one by one—it was quite brutal.

2018/02/10

(1:30) Zhou Shen talks about how he has a longer process to be accepted compared to other singers, because they first have to get over the fact that a man has this type of voice before they truly listen to him sing. Some people react like, WOW amazing!! while others are on the other end of the spectrum:

ZS: Once, I was at a restaurant and at that time, they were broadcasting the blind auditions of the Voice. The restaurant owner just happened to be watching it, and when I appeared, he was like “Eh? Who’s this- WAH-“ and immediately changed the channel. I was like ??? D’: ????? “…can I have some water?” (*laughs*) He changed the channel right in front of me, you know? He didn’t recognize me. It was- (*makes disgruntled noises*) It was really upsetting.

(2:20) ZS, about being on Masked Singer: “That was the first time I felt acknowledged by the sentence ‘wow this girl sings so well!’”

(20:30) In the three years since your debut, have you ever seen a fan who, because of your songs or your voice, their life changed?

ZS: Have I seen that personally? That would be impossible, but I have read about it in letters and comments. There was one comment, this person—they had depression, the kind that they were being prescribed medication for—but they started listening to my music and slowly started to become happier, their mental health improved. I was so astonished—music is really so powerful.

Another one was- to be honest, men with this type of voice are actually not uncommon. It’s really not just me. Once, I was at karaoke with an old schoolmate—middle school or high school, I forget—and he said, “because of you, Zhou Shen, because you sang in that competition [the Voice], I’m now brave enough to sing at karaoke. It feels like, even with this kind of voice, I can sing too.” That moment—I was so moved.

2018/05/19

(3:45) ZS talks about how Gao Xiaosong was really satisfied with how the album turned out, and how Gao Xiaosong is actually really thin.

Interviewer: Why do you always have to mention that? No one is asking about whether he’s fat or thin.

ZS, joking: How else do you think I got this album—I kept complimenting him as thin (T/N: HAHAHAHAHA)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

No, It's Definitely Funny

Prompt: Can I request a second part to "Let's Call It Funny" where Bucky, Sam, Steve, and Peter unite forces to confuse and concern all the other avengers (with at least one instance where two or all of them respond to something by pretending to jump off a building?) Love you! -Auggie

Does it count as being back on my bullshit if I never left?

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: none, unless you need a warning for gen z humor

Pairings: it's still found family hours

Word Count: 2259

Peter’s gonna be honest, he may or may not have some competition for the funniest person in the Tower right now.

Because let’s look at the list here:

Traumatized? Everybody and their private jet’s worth of vintage and designer baggage needs therapy.

Queer? If you think Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, or Sam Wilson is straight, you need to tell them everything they’ve ever done to make you think they’re straight so they can stop doing it immediately.

Superhero? Yeah, okay, shush, now you’re being stupid.

Neurodivergent? Have you seen the way these men behave? Definitely the model of Perfectly Normal Person™, what on earth are you talking about, absolutely 100% Normal™.

The only things he’s still got going for him that the others don’t are high-schooler and trans. That’s not a lot when it comes to the fact that hey, two of them are from the Great Depression—let’s be honest, they’re the OGs when it comes to fatalistic humor—and they’ve all got years of practice.

Sure, Peter’s got some trauma-given raw talent, but it’s not refined by years and years of throwing yourself off of buildings and out of planes to avoid having conversations about your emotions.

The day Aunt Nat dropped all of SHIELD’s files on the Internet and Peter found out that Steve yeeted himself out of a plane—without a parachute!—to avoid Nat’s prodding about getting a date was the best day of his fucking life.

“Don’t you go stealing my moves there, kid,” Steve had scolded playfully, winking over the rim of his mug.

“Try and stop me, I dare you.”

“And this is why,” Tony had sighed, looking every bit his 79 years—“Hey!”—as he watches this interaction go down, “you have a parachute built into your suit.”

“I’ll just wear my old one, don’t worry about it.”

“That heinous thing that’s just a cut-up old hoodie and goggles? Peter, no, that thing is being held together with safety pins and hope!”

“I mean, me too, so it’s fine.”

“Peter!”

“Also, like, it’s the one I almost got crushed to death in, so it’s got the emotional trauma seasoning already.”

“Wait—“ Bucky had sat up— “you almost got crushed to death by a building? Sheesh, kid, you’re really flirting with the reaper, huh.”

“It wasn’t so bad, I had training from the years and years of carrying the weight of my sins crawling on my back.”

“At least ask Death for his number next time, he’s not returning my calls.”

“Sergeant, I swear to God—“

“Actually, Death uses they/them pronouns, I asked when I met them last weekend.”

“What the fuck did you do last weekend?”

“Really? Oh cool, well, can you get their number for me? We had a date back in ’45 that they missed.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.”

“Tony, why are you screaming? Not keeping dates is a very serious matter.”

“Trust me, I speak from experience, Tony, it’s not a good habit to get into.”

“You should respect your elders and not scream while we’re talking to you, mister.”

“All of you shut the fuck up.”

See? On one hand, it’s great to have more partners in this venture of making Tony’s hair turn grey—he’s that age, it’s bound to happen any time soon now— “One more crack about my age, kid, I swear.” — but on the other hand, Peter is seriously losing his massive lead on funniest person in the Tower.

The other thing he’s worried about is Sam’s ability to make it so the others can’t actually worry about him.

Because—listen, Sam Wilson is a fucking national treasure and all you fuckers better acknowledge that. It’s no secret that the Captains take turns going out with the shield, all of them answer to ‘Captain America’ because that’s what they are, but no one—and Peter will never say this under threat of death because he does not need any more of the Steve Rogers’ Puppy Dog Eyes™, thank you very much—no one does it better than Sam.

And that means that Sam fucking Wilson can turn a fatalistic, self-deprecating joke into a motivational speech that doesn’t feel disingenuous or cliché at all and everyone is too busy processing the philosophical revelations they’re having to scold him for his, frankly, outstanding sense of humor.

It’s not fair and Peter can’t do it.

He tried. Once.

Didn’t go very well.

No, he’s not gonna talk about it, let’s just move on.

Sam has offered to catch him a couple of times when he gets himself a little too deep into the Mamma Spider™ or Iron Dad™ trap of feeeelings, and he gratefully scoots out of the way when Sam sits down next to him and just makes another joke.

Sam is also a fantastic role model for the brand of ‘I’m going to the store and only have twenty bucks, stop asking for your will to live back’ jokes.

“Hey, Pete!”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go, bodega run.”

“Can we pick up some hopes and dreams, too, all of those got scribbled out in fat red Sharpie yesterday.”

“I said bodega run, not Court of Miracles run.”

“But Sam~”

“Listen, kid, if you manage to find your hopes and dreams in this bodega, keep an eye out for your childhood innocence, that might be on the next shelf over.”

“Deal.”

“Do you two need some more therapy appointments?”

“Only got fifteen bucks, man.”

“I’m literally a billionaire!”

Peter eagerly studies under this pinnacle of humor and keeps his worries to himself.

Because if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, and Peter’s sense of humor is wonderful, but he is a tad intimidated by the amount of variety the others have got going for them.

“You’re a fucking terror, Spider-ling, that’s what you are.”

“Not true! I was ‘a pleasure to have in class.’”

“Oh, is that why you’re taking ‘Little Shit’ lessons from Barnes and Rogers?”

“And Sam! Don’t forget Captain Wilson, he is an invaluable part of this team. I’m surprised at your ignorance.”

“Pete—no, that’s not—“

“I’m ashamed for you, Mr. Stark.”

“Listen here you little shit—“

Anyway…

Steve and Bucky have a habit of telling these like, really awful jokes that have Peter in stitches for half an hour. It’s not fair and he doesn’t get why they’re so funny because they aren’t, and yet here he is, laughing anyway.

It’s probably some combination of Steve’s perfected innocent face that he wears when he has to do interviews and Bucky’s habit of not giving a single solitary fuck. But they’re able to make the worst jokes with completely serious expressions and it’s not fair.

“Hey, can you guys come help me with something?”

“Sure, Peter,” Steve says instantly, bounding over with his 95-year-old Golden Retriever energy as Bucky trails behind him like a cat that’s sitting in your lap because he wants to, not because he likes you or anything, “what’s up?”

“I have a history project on WWII due tomorrow and I haven’t started it yet.”

Bucky snorts, taking a swig of coffee and sitting down on the floor. Which, same. “You got your eulogy planned?”

“Drafted, sighed, notarized, but Aunt May said no so I gotta do this.”

“Well, if Aunt May says no then I guess that’s that.”

Tony, from far away in another part of the Tower, has a sickening feeling that May Parker has once again proven that she is the most powerful parent and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I, um,” Peter mumbles, fidgeting with his pen, “I want to be respectful of your boundaries, and if you don’t want to talk about anything then—“

Because it’s one thing for someone to make jokes about their trauma and another for someone else to go poking and prodding at it.

“Hey,” Steve interrupts softly, nudging him with his knee, “first off, thank you for saying that and we appreciate your respect, but we got you. You worry about enough, sweetheart, let us take care of ourselves.”

Peter gives him a look.

“When it comes to this,” Steve amends, having the decency to look a little sheepish, “we’ll take care of ourselves.”

Bucky scoffs. “Uh-huh.”

“We will, Buck.”

“My therapist will be real happy to hear that.” He looks up at Peter and winks. “Besides, what good is our trauma if we don’t pin it up and display it for good grades?”

Peter huffs, the joke undercut a little by the way Bucky knocks his foot against Peter’s and Steve’s arm stretches over the couch behind him.

Peter has to resist the urge to lean his head onto Steve’s shoulder, because then Steve’s hand will come up and ruffle his hair and Peter’s eyes will droop slowly closed as he loses himself in the warmth and safety of Steve’s embrace and then Steve will lean down to press a kiss to his temple and—

Right. Homework.

“What’s it on specifically,” Bucky asks, clearly spotting the temptation on Peter’s end, “home front? Overseas? Time period?”

“Uh, it’s an analysis of total war.”

“Like, how much of the country was devoted to the war effort?”

“Yeah, basically. It’s talking about how the Nazi War Machine made their war total and how that extends to a lot of other countries, but also about the reasons why the war was fought—“

They delve into a conversation about total war, Peter pointing out how Italy’s motivation for territory keeps it from being a total war on their part, Bucky speaking to how the different dynamics worked in various countries and the fallout, Steve bringing up how much of the home front was devoted to bringing attention to the war being fought overseas. Then, of course, as is inevitable, they devolve into storytelling.

Peter’s notebook—with notes! He did his job!—is set aside as he gives in to the need to let Steve cuddle him on the couch. Come on, the man is warm and big and gives good hugs, how is he supposed to not? Bucky sprawls out on the floor, leaning back on his hands as he smiles fondly.

“You know,” he remarks casually, “I fought a Nazi in my pajamas once.”

Peter blinks sleepily. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, though how he got in my pajamas, I have no idea.”

Peter snorts. Then he giggles. Then he’s collapsing into Steve’s side, positively sobbing with laughter.

It’s not funny.

It’s really not that funny.

But here he is, fucking dying, and he doesn’t even have the wherewithal to welcome the sweet embrace of oblivion.

“Okay, note to self,” Bucky murmurs when he’s calmed down a little, wiping away tears, “sleepy spider likes corny jokes.”

“Just don’t break our baby spider, Buck, Momma Spider would kill you in cold blood.”

“Listen, if Natasha Romanoff kills me, don’t prosecute. That’s on me.”

Peter can’t do corny jokes. He really can’t. He just sounds like he’s a recording so old it’s unintelligible and it’s bad. He has a reputation to maintain here!

However, there is one sense of humor that Peter is very eager to learn and adopt, and hey, it might actually be Iron Dad™ Approved!

It’s a rookie mistake, asking Bucky Barnes for a hand, but in his defense, Peter was left unsupervised and was distracted.

“Hey, Bucky, can you give me a hand?”

“Sure thing, Peter.”

Something nudges his arm and he looks down. It’s Bucky’s metal arm, bumping up against his elbow.

It’s a cheap joke. It’s bad. It does not deserve Peter’s laughter.

He snorts anyway.

“That’s on me,” he says after a second, “you know what, that’s my fault.”

“What, is this not what you meant?”

“No, no, you’re fine.” Peter scruffs a hand through his hair. He looks down at the prosthetic again. “Well, that’s disarming.”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to snort. “You gotta hand it to me, though, it’s a good joke.”

Oh, it’s on.

“No, no, of course, I understand. You really can’t let an opportunity like that slip through your fingers.”

Steve chokes on his next sip of coffee. “Stop making the kid shoulder the burden of making puns with you.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Don’t palm this off on someone else, Steve, you’re as bad as he is.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad.” Peter shrugs. “You just gotta knuckle-down and find the right one.”

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to reach for puns?” Bucky hefts his arm.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say a lot.”

“Jeez, Pete, good one.”

“What, are you not finding them humerus?”

Sam’s gone, Steve shortly after. Bucky just grins proudly at him.

Then there’s a massive thunk from behind them. Peter turns around to see Tony slamming his forehead into the counter.

“You are all going to kill me,” he mutters, glaring up at them, “all three of you.”

“Oh, come on, Mr. Stark, Captain Barnes would never hurt you.”

Tony raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“After all,” Peter grins, gesturing to Bucky who is doing a very good innocent face—he must’ve been taking notes from Steve— “look at him, he’s completely armless.”

“Peter Benjamin Parker—“

Okay, so maybe it’s not Iron Dad™ Approved.

Oh, well.

[toomanyrobins]

a little birdie told me pt. 11

Summary: Y/N “Birdie” Parker left New York and her family three years ago in the middle of the night. Now, a call for help to her best friend brings her back into the fold of the Three Families and their “business”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Parker!Reader

Content warning: physical abuse, miscarriage, cursing, mentions of forced marriage, sex, mentions of alcohol and inebriation

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: Steve is a bit of stubborn idiot in this, but so is Birdie. Next part we will learn more about Steve and his past. Enjoy! 💛

Series masterlist // next part

Y/N stood outside the door of the round table room of the Ivory. Dread coursed through her as she waited to speak to Tony. Desperation was driving her and Y/N knew that if she stopped moving even for a moment, she would break. All she had to do was sign her name on the contract and then she could breakdown. Finally, the door opened and she was surprised to see that there was a group of people waiting for her inside. George sat at the head of the table with Tony and Pepper to his left, Barney on his right and Bucky and Steve filled out the remaining chairs. Everyone turned to look at her when she walked in. Y/N took a deep breath. This lie needed to be sold or she was in trouble, “I need to apologize for my behavior yesterday. The shock of it all hit and I didn’t handle it well. I took yesterday to calm down and think about it. I’ve decided that this union is a good idea. That is, if Steve is still willing.” She turned to Tony, “Dad, as much as it pains me to admit, you were right. He is a good man. I’ve been known as an irresponsible girl whose head is in the clouds. I need to prove that I’ve matured and this could be a step in the right direction.”  No one spoke as Pepper scoffed and glared at Tony as she left the room, the door slamming on her way out. 

Steve stood up and grabbed Y/N by the arm, she winced as he hit exactly where Brock had grabbed her the day before, “We need to talk.” He pulled her out of the room, “You’ve been avoiding me for three days. We slept together and the next morning you ran out of that hotel room without a word. Yesterday, you announced in front of multiple people that there was no chance in hell that you would ever marry me. What the hell is going on, Birdie?”

Her nails dug into her palm, “It’s like I said. I took the day and thought it over. I’m not leaving again, Steve… I can’t. This marriage has been in the works since I was 17 and it’s a way to show that I’m not little Birdie Stark anymore. I’m not the problem child that you got saddled with as punishment. Clearly, you want it or you wouldn’t have agreed the second time and I think I could be happier with you than anyway else I’ve ever met. So, please, don’t give up on me now… Please.” 

Steve looked down at Y/N. He could see the mistiness in her eyes, but he could also see that she was being genuine. He just nodded and they went back into the office. No one spoke as they both signed the contract that had been drawn up. Before the ink had dried, Tony was pulling out a celebratory drink. When Steve turned to hand one to his new fiancee, he realized she had left the room. He put the glasses down and went to look for her. He found her outside talking to Pepper and decided not to intrude.

As soon as everyone’s attention was taken, Y/N had gone after Pepper. She found her outside the building and called to her. “Mom, I’m sorry.”

Pepper held up a hand to stop her, “Don’t you dare apologize. It’s your father that is to blame for this. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t interfered. You wouldn’t have left the first time and you wouldn’t feel the need to prove yourself by marrying someone you don’t want to.”

“Oh, Mom… you can’t just blame Dad for all of that. There were so many other reasons I left.” The image of Brock leaning against the car haunted her. “Yes, he was part of it, but not all of it. I’m not just marrying Steve to prove myself. I know you imagined us finding our soulmates like you did with Dad. But, I don’t believe in the One. I believe that Steve and I can make each other happy and I’ve been stuck in a rut for a really long time. He and Jamie make me happy in a way I haven’t been in years. It’s not a great love story, but it’s a good future. One that lets me keep all of you with me and that’s all I want.”

Pepper reached up to cup Y/N’s face, “I just don’t want you to sacrifice because you think you deserve less.”

“Mom, it’s too late for regrets and all I want is to know I have your support, because I can not plan a wedding.” Pepper laughed at that and Y/N knew she managed to distract her mother from her anger. “Don’t be mad at Dad for too long. For all of his stupid mistakes, he really is doing what he thinks is best.”

The weeks following the contract being signed was exhausting. They had immediately started plans. This wedding was happening quickly, before Becca and Sam’s wedding could even happen. Planning this wedding was a nightmare for Y/N. The planner was the most odious person she’d ever had the misfortune of meeting. The woman’s hand had stayed on Steve’s arm the entire first meeting and cemented her as persona non grata in Y/N’s mind. 

Pepper had invited her for a meeting at the Ivory They sat at one of the tables in the solarium. “So color scheme for the wedding?”

“Lime green and orange.”

Y/N heard Pepper sigh next to her, “Jewel tones: burgundy, emerald, navy blue.”

“Lovely,” the wedding planner simpered, “Do you have a date in mind?”

“March is the hope, but we don’t have a specific date in mind.”

“Well we can look at a few locations and see if their availability will help narrow that down. Unless, you have a place in mind?”

“No, this wedding is a blank slate.” 

Y/N was zoned out, as her mother planned the wedding. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer and pushed her chair back, “I forgot I told Steve that I would stop into his office. Mom, you know what I like.” She escaped from the table and hurried up to his office. She threw the doors open, “Can we elope?”

Steve’s eyes didn’t even leave the document he was reading. This was not the first time they’d had a similar discussion, “Sweetheart, I’ve told you before. No.”

“Please,” Y/N slinked over and perched herself on the corner of his desk, “The wedding planner is the worst!”

He sighed and put the papers he was reading down. He looked up her, amusement shining in his eyes, “Are you sure you’re not jealous?”

She gasped in outrage, “Jealous! Why would I be jealous?”

“Because she kept touching my arm when we first met her and I thought you were going to rip her hand off.” She hated that he had caught that moment of weakness. They had kissed a few times since signing the contract, but they hadn’t slept together since the party. He gave her a quick kiss, “I kind of liked that you were jealous.”

Y/N pouted, her bottom lip sticking out, “I want a divorce.”

“Need to be a good girl and marry me first.” She whimpered and finally Steve shoved aside his work, giving her his whole attention, “You know for someone who is as bad at following rules as you are, calling you a good girl really seems to do something to you.”

Y/N hopped off his desk trying to put some distance between them, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? So when I said that to you, I didn’t see you get all flustered? Just like you are right now?” Steve stood up and moved behind her. He wrapped one arm around her waist and kissed along her bare neck, watching as goosebumps blossomed. He smirked and leaned close to her ear and dropped his voice, so that it was thick like honey, “You don’t want to be a good girl for me, Birdie?”

Y/N whimpered softly and a shiver ran down her spine as his voice rolled over her. She felt his lips brush along her neck and the ability to think was gone. 

“I – I,” She dropped her head back, giving Steve unlimited access to her, “Oh, I can’t think when you do that.”

“Let’s make a deal, sweetheart. You give me some answers and I promise I’ll make it worth your while.

“Okay, but I can't guarantee you’ll like the answers I have to give.

He smirked at her defiance, “Were you jealous?”

“Yes.”

“Were you telling me the truth about that dinner I made two nights ago? Was it good?”

She snickered, “No, it was awful. I’ll cook from now on.”

Steve decided to try and see if he could get some answers to questions that plagued him. He switched his tune and spun her around so that she was standing between his thighs, “What happened to make you run from the hotel?”

Y/N played with the buttons on his shirt, avoiding his gaze, “Becca called me Jamie’s mom and it freaked me out. I don’t know if I can be a good parent and I don’t want to replace his mother. I know that she’s dead, but still.”

“First of all, you are an amazing mother to Jamie. Take it from someone who actually had no experience with kids, you are miles ahead of where I was. You love him and care for him and I trust you completely with him.” Y/N kissed Steve, her hand curling into his hair. They separated, but he kept on hand on her back, “One more question. Where were you for the last three years?”

She stiffened and he watched her mask fall into place, “I told you. I went to a lot of places. 

“What happened to you? The full story.”

Y/N shrugged him off and stepped away from him, “Rogers, don’t do this.”

“You need to talk to someone.”

“I have, just not the people who continue to push me and piss me off.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “You deserve to be happy, Birdie.

“I am happy…Look, I can’t keep spending my life sad because some shit has happened in my past. I want to enjoy the life I have. Spend my days with my family, and be there for you and Jamie. I don’t want to be sad and broken.

You’re not sad or broken,” Steve tucked her hair behind her ear, “But there's a difference between moving on and avoiding.”

“I’m not avoiding shit. I’ve always told the truth about what’s happened to me.”

Steve stared at her incredulously, “The whole truth?” Y/N stiffened and nodded at him. If her eyes could kill, he would died a hundred times over. “The whole entire truth? You’re not hiding something deep down?”

“I’ve told everyone everything they need to know about where I’ve been and about my ex.

Steve chuckled humorlessly and started walking towards Y/N, “You’re so careful, you know?”

Her stomach was is knots, “Careful?”

“Yes. You never say his name. Only ‘my boyfriend’ or ‘my ex.’ This anticipation is killing me. Why are you protecting him even after all this time?”

“I’m not protecting him. Maybe I just don’t want all the possessive guys around me to get even worse. Maybe... just maybe, it’s not your business.”

Steve groaned at her stubbornness and kissed along her neck, turning her legs to jelly. “Come on, be a good girl. You’re going to be my wife. Just give me a name, Birdie.”

Y/N knew his game and it still took all of her strength to pull away, “Oh no. You’re not using that against me.”

“Sweetheart, I am trying to get you to open up to me. Getting you to share is like Bucky and Sam trying to have an intelligent conversation. You’ve got so many walls up and every time I think I’ve broken one down, two more are put up. I'm just trying to understand you.”

She shoved his chest, “If you want to understand, just be there. Make me believe you’re worth it. Don’t seduce me into getting your way. Help me understand that you won’t leave when it gets tough. 

“What, like you did?” Y/N reeled back when Steve said that.

“I’m trying to make up for that.”

“Then tell me what is going on with you.”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her mind was swirling, “No, Steve! No! You don’t get to guilt me into this. This is not fair to me. Will you do this every time I don’t act how you want? Is my leaving some ploy you’ll use to get what you want? That’s not the actions of someone I want to share with. I want to tell you everything because I trust you to understand and not because I think it’ll make you forgive me faster… I—I need to go.”

“Birdie…”

“I need space from all of this. Get my head on straight. I’ll see you later.” Y/N was out the door, before he could stop her. 

Her phone was vibrating like crazy and she finally looked at it. Messages from an unknown number had filled the screen:

I meant what I said when you’re all mine.

You belong to me and to HYDRA.

Maybe the Families will get some anonymous intel on where you’ve been

Can Steve Rogers really give you all I did?

Do you cry his name out like you did mine?

What will Daddy Stark say about his little whore of a daughter?

Are you so stupid that you think marrying Rogers will protect you?

What Y/N didn’t know was that George was tracking her phone and was seeing every message she got. It didn’t take long for him to get the information he needed. Brock Rumlow: the reason Y/N Parker-Stark was broken. HYDRA had gotten closer and done more damage than anyone else knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@founding-fuck-bois​

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@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters​

@directorsnarrative​

@marvelofwitch​

@hollandstanevans​

@samwinter09​

[illfoandillfie]

I’d love a platonically blurb ab them applying to foster/adopt kids 🥺

i love you for this request but also it made me very soft and emo and how dare you

It ended up being a little less about them actually applying and more just them deciding they wanted to adopt or foster and discussing their options because i can't read but perhaps i could do an actual fic later about the process involved and them meeting their kid and stuff?? idk...dad ben makes me 🥺🥺🥺

Anyway, here's the second last blurb in my Platonically event!

Words: 1,683

Warnings: Nothing much really, discussions about children including pregnancy, adoption and fostering, a little mention of sex but nothing explicit.

“I wanna be a dad.”  You weren’t surprised to hear Ben say it. You’d seen the signs. There was the way he’d befriended and doted on the adorable toddler who’d played his daughter on a TV project. Every day he’d come home and his face would light up as he talked about her – how she babbled little kid nonsense at him all day and how they’d played silly games sitting on the floor of the set while the cameras were set up around them. You’d almost expected him to bring up the possibility of having kids then but he’d surprised you and not mentioned it. You could tell he was thinking about it though which made you think about it too. It made sense to at least discuss it and see where you both stood now that you’d been in the QPR for a while and knew that it worked and that you made a good team. You asked about it one night while you were washing the dishes and Ben was drying them. “Do you ever think about kids? Like having one?” “Yeah, sometimes,” he said, bumping your shoulder gently with his, but the conversation didn’t go any further than that.

It wasn’t until about three months later that you heard him say it. It took one of his mates having a baby with his wife for Ben to bring it up. You’d gone over a couple of weeks after they left the hospital, gifts in hand (a cute little spotty onesie and soft toy elephant that he hopefully wouldn't grow out of as quickly as he would his clothes). It was a lovely afternoon, catching up with the new parents and meeting brand new baby Bertie who just stared at everyone who cooed over him. You each had a turn holding Bertie too, marvelling at how anything could have such tiny hands and such big brown eyes. Ben happened to be handed the bundle of blankets that Bertie was swaddled in as the baby began to fall asleep. He didn’t mind though. When the new father asked if he should take Bertie and put him in his crib Ben waved him off. He said he didn’t mind sitting there a little longer to make sure Bertie really had dropped off. The parents didn’t argue, a little relieved that they were able to take a break and just relax. Both of them excused themselves for a moment to get some more food and use the bathroom which left you and Ben and the sleeping Bertie alone together. Quietly you stepped towards the armchair Ben was in, sitting on the arm so you could run your fingers through his hair. “I wanna be a dad.” Ben glanced up at you as he said it, and you could see how much he meant it. “Let’s talk about it tonight,” you reached out to stroke Bertie’s pudgy cheek as Ben lent his head against your side, his attention turning back to the baby.

Neither of you mentioned it on the drive home. In fact you both specifically avoided mentioning it, though not from fear of what might be said but rather just wanting to make sure you had adequate time to go over it without rushing. Once you were inside, shoes kicked off and the kettle on, you opened the discussion.  “So....a baby?” Ben nodded, as he settled into the couch, body angled towards you, “I’ve been thinking about it for a bit, it’s not just because of this afternoon but that did help. I really want kids and I think I’m at a place where I feel ready to. Is that...is that okay?” “It’s wonderful Ben. Honestly, I’ve kinda been waiting for this conversation for a while. I’ve seen you interact with kids and I knew it wouldn’t be long before you wanted your own.” He laughed and inclined his head in amused agreement, “So does that mean you like the idea?” “Yeah I do.” “Really? Just that I know you weren’t really sure about it when we first decided to be partners.” “I might not’ve been then, but I am now.”  “What changed?” “Well...you, obviously.” “Me?” He seemed surprised. “Look, before we got together I couldn’t imagine being in a relationship that didn’t make me feel at least a little uncomfortable. I figured I’d be single forever and I was okay with that. I’d considered just having a kid on my own – sperm donor or whatever – but that seemed like a really hard thing to do and I wasn’t sure I’d ever want it bad enough to do that. But then you showed me that it was possible to be in a partnership that felt good and, I don’t know, I started thinking about the possibility of having a family with you, and the more I thought about it the more I liked the idea.” Ben smiled as if he was trying not to look as pleased with your answer as he felt, “So we’re doing this then? For real?” “Yeah I think so. Weird.” “Bit weird.” There was a pause as you both just sat with the knowledge that you were planning a future together, that you both wanted to go ahead with it. You never would have guessed you’d get to that point with anyone.

Ben was the one to break the moment, “How would you want to...I mean how should we...How do you feel about being pregnant?” You bit your lip in thought, “I’m not sure. Honestly, it still kinda freaks me out.” “That’s understandable.” “I mean, if it was a dealbreaker for you then I would. I’m not entirely against the idea of carrying our baby and it would mean we’d get to do the fun part of making it.” “We do the fun part a lot as is,” Ben laughed, “But it’s actually something I thought about a lot.” “The fun part? That doesn’t surprise me.” “No, the you being preggers part,” he said exasperatedly, “I knew you weren’t super keen on the whole thing so I got thinking about whether or not it really mattered to me and I don’t think it does. I think I could be just as happy with a kid that came from someone else. And,” he paused as if giving you time to prepare for what he was about to say, “I might have looked into our options for adopting or fostering.” “You did?” “Mmhmm. It’s kinda complicated so we shouldn’t rush into anything and we should probably contact some agencies to ask questions and stuff.” “How complicated are we talking?” “Well, basically, if we want to adopt I think we have to put our names down with an agency and then there’s an interview process and if they think we’re suitable candidates then they’ll put our names in the system and find us a kid. And I guess it depends on the age bracket you’re looking for. I think if we wanted a newborn we’d be more likely to get one through adoption but it might still take a while whereas older kids are a little easier to find, so that’s something we need to consider.” “What about fostering?” “It sounds even more complicated. Like adoption you put your name down and go through an evaluation process but then there’s a few different options. There’s short term fostering where we’d look after kids for a couple of weeks or months while plans for their futures are finalised. Then there’s long term fostering which is usually for kids who can’t go back home but don’t want to be adopted out of their birth families and they mostly stay with you until they’re adults. Emergency fostering is another option which is a few nights or weeks at most but it’s for kids who need to be moved quickly and you don’t always get a lot of warning about them coming to you. And like, there’s possibilities to end up adopting the kid or kids you foster depending on what they want and how it goes.” You puffed your cheeks up with air and slowly blew it out, head swimming with the sudden influx of information, “That does sound complicated.” “Yeah. We’ll really have to consider out options and decide what sort of family we want to have. I think reading about adoption and fostering made me want to do it more though. Cause like...” he paused as he tried to find the right words, “These kids are out there without good homes and I really believe we could give them that.” You noted Ben was getting a little misty eyed, blinking more rapidly to hold back the emotion, so you tried to make him laugh by nudging him and calling him a sap. But you loved seeing how much he cared.  It worked a little as he chuckled softly and shrugged, “Look, either way – adopting or fostering – it's probably not going to be easy. There’s challenges involved in fostering for sure – kids with trauma we won’t be able to understand, kids who are grieving the loss of their birth families or who’ve had bad experiences with other foster carers and who struggle to trust anyone. And the kids who are up for adoption might not have the same problems, especially if they’re younger but, I don’t know, I think finding out you were put up for adoption would leave its own scars. Issues with abandonment and things like that. So I think we have to be really, really sure before we put our names down anywhere. But I also think we could properly help someone doing it, maybe more than one someone. So, if you’re up for it then so am I.” “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” “What are you thinking?” More pros and cons lists?” You both

laughed at that but Ben grabbed your arm, encouraging you to leave your seat and sit on his lap instead. He wrapped his arms around your waist and tilted his head up for a kiss which you gladly gave.  “I’m really happy we’re talking about this,” He almost whispered, squeezing you a little tighter. “Me too. I guess we should start by going through all our options and seeing which ones would suit us best.” "I've got some websites bookmarked and a few documents downloaded so why don't I go get my laptop and you make us a drink and we'll start working through it, okay?" "Okay,"

[demenior]

Dem’s Big Post About The Spn Fics Part 1/2

aka The Wrap Up to celebrate To Exist Again and To Become a Man now being finished!

(This will be a long post. This is your only warning.)

Admittedly this is a bit of a weird thing to be doing, but I wanted to try it out for 3 reasons: 

I love talking about my own work and 

It functions really well as a self-reflective tool for me to improve on, and 

I can answer some big questions people might have because there was a LOT of worldbuilding in these stories. 

We’ll start off with reflective stuff, and move into the juicier world-building focused stuff later into the post. There will be major spoilers for both fics to come!

To begin with a funny anecdote, Why Did I Write These Stories?

I was beginning to write and work out the story that I wanted to write for Spn (what will now be To Destroy a Man. As I was writing the scene, I realized I had a LOT of ideas and while I was trying to avoid as much exposition as I could, it became quickly apparent that I was needing to create my own au (this scene eventually became chapter 34 of To Become a Man). A short prequel seemed like a good idea, to quickly hash out the ‘prior’ events that I needed to go through so all the readers could be on the same page. While plotting out prequel points, I realized Sam and Dean were going to have drastically different experiences during the same time period, and I was trying to figure out who’s pov would be better for which scenes, and how to keep momentum when they’re going through such radically different types of changes. Ultimately I decided to split their povs, which I also thought would be a fun project! And I naively assumed each pov would take about 2 chapters each, rounding out to maybe 15k total.

I had my ending points: Dean n Cas soul-merged and (basically) married, Cas on the lam from heaven and a complete anomaly, and Sam juiced up full of powers and a weird mix of archangel and antichrist but still 100% human and ready to fight God. 

Now I needed to add weight to these changes, so I wrote 200k of build-up.

Am I proud of these fics?

OF COURSE I AM!!! These are the longest fics I’ve ever written AND finished AND in the fastest freakin turnaround ever (both were finished writing, barring edits, in like 6 months holy shit)

I didn’t write a single scene that I “didn’t” want to write. If I had trouble writing it, as in it was fighting me, I scrapped it. Most obviously was the scene in Dean’s pov where he and Sam were intended to meet some other hunters and Dean declines working with them because he’s nervous about being outed as queer. It was meant to be a good scene! I wanted to introduce some new characters! But it just wasn’t working so I said ‘thank you, next!’. 

But it means this story was an absolute joy to write. Because for a while all I was doing was ‘if I wanted to write one scene into supernatural, what would I write?’ and then just DID that!! It’s why there’s a lot of ‘Salmondean do dumb shit or have really dumb heartfelt conversations’ scenes.

Would I change anything?

If I’d been less eager to start sharing, I might have planned out the story beats a little tighter so there were less ‘soft’ chapters and a draw/pull for people to come back and keep reading. I felt Dean’s story specifically lagged at points and could have used some tighter editing (there was a noticeable lull in directed movement between Dean n Cas getting together, until Sam corrupts Amy).

I also probably would have held Sam’s story until I’d finished Dean’s so I could make the two line up better! Probably could have inserted more scenes into Sam’s fic that way, and made sure things were a little more consistent. In an ideal world one concept I had was to release 1 chapter from each pov every week that would correspond to the same time frame so we’d be getting real-time SalmonDean pov narrative. Unfortunately that didn’t work!

The biggest takeaway overall is for me to focus more on what moves the plot, and to make my scenes do more than 1 thing so I can cut down on wordcount and increase my efficiency. 

Of course every writer will find things they want to fix in anything they’ve ever written, so these are minor “mistakes” at best. I’m so dang proud of these fics. 

Onto more interesting things!

How Did I Put These Fics Together (because it’s different than anything I’ve ever done before)

Normally when I write a story, I plan out the beats I need to hit, see where I need to insert any kind of foreshadowing/buildup, and then write from A to B to C and so on and so forth. Hence, this is why I can normally post things as I complete chapters, because it’s all a linear progression. 

For these two stories, rather than linear plot/a normal story structure, I just sat and free-wrote any and every scene that came to mind and then pieced them into a kinda-linear form like putting a quilt together. You’ll note that this is why there’s not a lot of internal callback or a feeling of sense of time flowing within the fic (save for points where I went back and specifically edited it in). How long does the story take place over? Hard to say! Your author has the barest grasp on linear time even on a good day (how many times did I say ‘see you on [wrong day]’ at the end of chapters lmaaoooo)

This also meant EXTENSIVE editing on the back end once I decided in what order I wanted my ‘quilt pieces’ to be. Hard to say if this is a bonus or a negative!

But I did want to try and capture the vibe of the lives they lead, as a bit of a ‘slice of life’-style story, when the slice of life is the profound weirdness of the Winchester roaming life, and how things are status quo- until everyone almost dies oh shit!! And then they have to keep living because no therapy we die/undie like Winchesters. Do I think I captured this effectively? Hmm. Good question. 

Dem where the FUCK did the inspiration for a lot of the magic and creature weirdness even come from?

Honestly? Music, primarily. And completely mishearing lyrics!

Nightwish ‘Ever Dream’: the line is ‘my song can but borrow you grace’ and because my brain is scrambled eggs on a good day, I heard ‘grace’ ‘song’ and ‘borrow’ in that order and have had, for YEARS, the mental image of Cas borrowing Dean’s soul to power himself up for battle.

From there I’ve always been enamored with the ‘wavelength of celestial intent’ descriptor that Cas drops in s6 for “what he is”. 

I also really like ocean metaphors mostly because I’ve been obsessed with the ocean and things in it since I was like… 5??? So really this was me just rolling with what I know lmao. I love using (somewhat) accurate scientific metaphors for very intangible things!

I was also finishing my degree in biology/ecology while writing these fics and I think it shows

Stars ‘The Night Starts Here’ gives us the series title and the fic titles. Except for ‘To Exist Again’. TEA was almost titled ‘The Upwards Fall’ because I wanted all 3 of the Main Stories to have titles from this song, but I couldn’t make anything else work in tandem with the series name ‘The Love It Takes’ while also working for Sam’s personal story. So Sam, as always, is the rebel <3

Stars ‘Up In Our Bedroom, After The War’ is basically the vibes of the whole story. TFW has been, literally, to hell and back!!! There’s a bit of melancholy and sadness, a lingering dark, but the chance of a bright new tomorrow and a soft start.

Let’s Talk About Themes in The Story! What were you looking to accomplish? 

My earliest notes for TFW are, as follows:

Dean’s journey of self-discovery (who am I when I’m not trying to be Dad?)

Dean wants to settle down! He wants a big family! He wants to be domestic!

Basically: Dean doesn’t want to have a short life of hunting. He wants to live!

Dean’s journey of realizing he’s bi, and him accepting that

Dean’s relationship to Sam is both older brother/parent 

And continuing Dean balancing these roles while also letting Sam be an adult 

Dean’s Big Issues/Fears about never being good enough for people to want to stay with him (these are effectively highlighted in that Cas thinks he’s not useful enough to be wanted)

Sub Plot:

Castiel’s autonomy

Cas’ fall from grace, to trying to restore Heaven, to wrecking it further

He’s majorly depressed by the end of s7 (before purgatory)

Wants to stay in Purgatory but doesn’t tell Dean

Remains depressed after leaving, but resolved to keep living on because he’s clearly meant for something

After the seraphim reveal: does he have free will?! How does he grapple with this? How does he live in a way he can be proud of?

And lastly

Sam gets his powers back CAUSE THATS HOT

where tf did they go????

he got them from Lucifer?????

sleeper agent??????

Sam is The Chosen One

Accepts that he is More Than Human and to celebrate all parts of him

Lucifer and Sam friends?? Work together????

Sam needs autonomy in his choices/his life

If you compare these to the overall arc of TFW within the two stories, I think I got a lot of them! But you’ll also note a lot of these things aren’t concrete goals that are easily measurable (ex: Dean wants to learn to bake pie. In chapter 1 he starts a fire in the kitchen. By the end of the story he finally makes A Good Pie.) part of the lack of concrete milestones was why I felt it was important to tell Dean (and Cas’) story by going back to the point they meet, in s4! Dean’s gradual change towards his feelings for Cas, his relationship to Sam (heavily influenced by the s7 events of this fic) and then his own relationship with himself were such slow burns that I felt it would be a disservice to try and cram a change like that into a timeline like “1 year”.

I felt like these subtle changes and adjustments actually felt a lot truer to life-- people often change in very small, gradual ways over time, even without realizing it and often times not consistently! If only we could all gain skills like the sims, where we can easily level up and remain at that high level of performance! 

So the Guy Who Ate Satan, A Celestial Nuke that Developed Sentience, and Dean walk into a bar…

Sam’s story in Spn The Show has always been a ‘chosen one’ kind of narrative. Sam is living with one foot in the realm of the monsters, and I wanted to bring that back full force! It really makes sense for him that he should only continue to grow in power, might, and magic!! As the story progresses.

Cas also got a power up! I do desperately love in the show that he was kind of a grunt/nothing angel, and so even when he defected to TFW he was a huge help for them, but in the scale of things he was an annoying fly to most other angels. It really worked for the underdog story of s4/5. In this I wanted to give him a power up, and originally it was actually going to be close contact with Sam that eventually changed Cas into something unknown (you can still see traces of this in ch34 of TBAM, where Death remarks ‘Castiel could be [Sam’s] first creation’. But for a combo of reasons: how Sam’s magic needed to have intent, the entire concept of free will and consent, and how much I wanted Dean and Cas to have their effect on each other, I decided to go with the route that Cas has actually always been something angel-adjacent rather than becoming something new. TFW/Supernatural has always been about free will and making your own story, so I amplified that with Cas.

Dean has always been A Normal Guy, which is part of the appeal of him and Sam (2 normal dudes!) taking on the Very Not Normal. As explained above, Sam’s story is ‘normal guy finds out he’s the chosen one’ and so, in a story about very large concepts and huge monsters and acts of magic, I felt it was very important to keep Dean as normal as possible. To the point it became a running gag to me, personally, in that ‘no matter what cool shit happens around him, Dean has to stay as Just A Guy’. And it’s a very humanizing role that allows the story to have the scale it does!

What were the most important themes in your story?

Sam’s Autonomy

I wasn’t even going to include the plot about Lucifer’s death in this story— that was going to come up in a later story, actually! And rather than Sam having ate Lucifer, the original idea was that they’d become a SamandLucifer entity (this harkens back to a concept I wanted to write when Swan Song first aired). 

That storyline would have involved a lot of mental ‘Sam and Lucifer discuss what it means to live, which one of them is more worthy of life and if they do deserve to destroy the world for the pain they’ve been forced to go through, just to create the dichotomy of good and evil for everyone else’ discussions. There would be a lot of talk about how Sam hates and fears Lucifer for the pain Lucifer put on Sam, how Lucifer hates Sam because he and Sam are the same but Sam’s brother loves him anyways, etc. 

Ultimately that was scrapped because Sam’s entire story in the show is always about how the world and everyone around him manipulates him and that he never actually gets to make choices about his own life or body that aren’t influenced or part of someone elses’ design. And that always bothered me that Sam was never allowed to be himself without having to be ashamed of it, and I wanted to make sure that Sam’s triumph of being proud of himself/proudly choosing to exist (again) was evident in his story

In the end I needed Sam to have this visceral win over his tormentor. As the story shows, in this case Lucifer was abused and put into a position where he was incapable of empathy and could only express himself in violence. Sam even understands this! But it doesn’t change the fact that Lucifer tortured Sam in unimaginable ways for thousands of years. 

With that in mind I didn’t like the idea of Lucifer and Sam having “co-ownership” of their new identity, so I made the choice that Sam had to be the survivor. This tied in well with Sam’s new crusade to restore free will to the universe, because he’s breaking the narrative of his own story!

While Castiel wasn’t a pov character, his own autonomy and free will was equally as important. You’ll note that many, many paragraphs and conversations revolved around that theme and that in the end Cas followed himself (and love!) which ensured his freedom of self <3

The Brothers are WEIRD PEOPLE!!!! And Codependent to a Worrying Degree, but It’s Also How They Survive

It’s very hard to show “unusual” relationships when you’re writing from the pov of the two people who don’t think there’s anything weird about their relationship. Sure, they say ‘yeah it’s probably weird that we still share a bed’ but that’s kinda more in line with ‘I had a nightmare and I want to be close to the person who makes me feel safe’. Hashtag normalize co-sleeping when you need it!!!

From there I did try to point out how the boys have a weird perception of lifestyle in the little things they did. 

From thrifting everything from clothes to appliances to books (thrifting is a valid lifestyle! It’s incredibly handy when you’re on a budget.) 

To never actually having condiments or knowing how to use a dishwasher cause they’ve lived in a car, a motel room, or squatted in old houses their whole life.

I tried to have them wear each others’ clothes or casually swap things as much as possible. They live out of each others’ pockets!

Also the brothers are just weird people!! It’s hard to show from their pov, cause they don’t know how far off from normal they are, but like…

Everything about Sam and Amelia was NOT right like holy shit those two were wilding in their grief. They are very lucky things worked out for them and that they got to be hashtag Weird Girls together

Dean explicitly, in the story, gets horny after killing stuff!! Violence has done a number on his psyche and he’s gotten some wires crossed that maybe shouldn’t have been, or maybe could be worked out in a safe space but… uh… how likely do we think Dean is gonna go find a safe space to deal with any of his shit???

LOVE!!! Love is truly what this whole story is all about

If you’ve read the stories, you know how much emphasis I put on love. Love is the strongest force in the Spn Universe! It’s what averted the apocalypse and saved the world (Swan Song), it’s what created free will (Cas’ entire arc!) I love love!!!!

I went out of my way to not put any definitions on platonic love vs romantic love because I think love is love is love and how you express that is the difference. Neither is more powerful than the other because LOVE is powerful!! Sam and Cas are the most important people in Dean’s life and he loves them equally! He shows this by giving Cas kisses and stealing Sam’s socks.

It’s a personal pet peeve of mine when I have to hear explanations like ‘I love you, like a brother’ or ‘I love you, but like, as a friend because I’m a lesbian and you’re a man’ etc etc in media. If you have to continuously define how your characters love each other, then I don’t think you’re doing a good job of portraying their relationship. So you’ll see that I never put those parameters in any conversation. Dean DOES muse that he loves Cas differently than he loves Sam or Bobby, specifically because there is a romantic and sexual tone that his feelings for Cas takes, but not because he loves Cas more or less than he loves Sam or Bobby.

Which means, if you haven’t realized it yet, the Series + Fic Titles are meant to be a complete sentence because the power of love IS the thesis of this series:

The Love It Takes To Exist Again (Sam’s journey!)

The Love It Takes To Become a Man (Dean’s journey!)

The Love It Takes To Destroy a Man (TBA)

And now for fun stuff. Behind the scenes!!

What’s Something People Probably Don’t Know?

The demonic fungal/hydrothermal vent growth on Sam’s arm was thrown in literally as I was posting the chapter because I had just finished a 48 hour cram session of writing a report on tube worms for an ecology class (I was chanting my tube worm song as I wrote it) and it ended up being a HUGE hit with both readers and myself. But it was so last minute I had trouble fitting it in more throughout the rest of Sam’s story!

Cas’ orders? That may or may not have bound him to Dean and removed his free will? Were written into Sam’s story and I went ‘oh SHIT that’s compelling’ and then left them there as a ‘guess I’ll figure that out when I get to Dean’s story lol’

Originally Dean and Cas were supposed to get together after having their souls bonded, and have been in a UST limbo the entire time before that. Mostly because I think the entire concept of ‘we just got married of the soul I guess we should try dating?’ is very funny. CLEARLY the two of them were way more eager to fall in love than I anticipated (thank you Cas for your honesty) but you can still see shades of this original idea here and there (especially in ch35 of TBAM)

I never intended Dean and Benny to connect so well!! Benny was going to reunite with Andrea, she was going to live, and they were going to go off into the world and leave the story. And, uh, here we are. I’m still debating if I need to adjust the relationship tag or not haha. Polyamory is fun, especially when I was planning for Sam to be the polyamorous brother...

Speaking of, I can’t believe I forgot about Sam and his sexuality! If I rewrote TEA I would have had Sam contemplate more on his lack of sexual appetite due to trauma, up until he meets Benny and he gets to rediscover how he wants to be a sexual person

Many of Sam and Dean’s absolutely stupid sibling conversations were lifted near-verbatim from conversations I’ve had with my siblings

And lastly...

Dem where’s Kevin????????????? Where is our sweet baby boy????????

He’s SAFE!! He’s in the Hunter pipeline somewhere cause Sam handed him off to Bobby’s people. He and his mom are safe and at some point they probably got rib sigils like SalmonDean did against angels, but for demons. I didn’t have room in this story for him!!! But my baby boy is SAFE and I want to get him back to university because it’s WHAT HE DESERVES!!!!

To that point: god there were/are SO many characters that I just didn’t include in the story so far because I didn’t feel comfortable including them without stalling the story for them. To that point: pretty much everyone who is alive/dead in s8 is that way in this story, except Bobby who gets to live.

[Check Out Part 2 for reader questions!]

[malfoyfarms]

St. Christopher

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2

Triggers: drowning, domestic abuse/violence, regular violence, alcoholism, manipulation

A/N: hi lovelies, this was written for you because my page hit 350+ followers and “Sleepy Girl” received over 2,100 notes <3 u all

Christopher was a man who carried a child for many many miles even as the child grew heavy, never giving up. This man became a saint, and his image was plastered across items worn by travelers in all forms. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, anklets, pins, sashes and even clothing.

The tales of St. Christopher necklaces were told in your family for ages. All surfers and adventurers who wore those necklaces were protected, always returning home. You wore one, both your parents wore one, and your grandfather wore one as well. It had become a right of passage, one that you intended to carry on with your children as well. 

You were on your way to meet JJ at one of the abandoned lookouts on the island, nervous as all can be. The blonde boy had been in your life for a while now, and had been your boyfriend for almost ten months. Your grandfather had brought up the idea of giving JJ a St. Christopher necklace, as he had become part of the family. 

‘Pumpkin, I see the way he looks at you. That’s the same way I looked at your grandmother.’ Those words echoed over and over in your head. The wise man had always been your favorite, and when he suggested it, there was no way you could disagree. You had saved up enough money over the course of the next several weeks and went with the old gentleman to the mainland to pick out a pendant for your boyfriend. At that moment in time you thought the hardest task would be picking out the jewelry, but now you realized explaining the family history and actually passing over the necklace was the hardest part. 

The pendant itself was silver with a gray-blue border, with a long leather chain, knowing JJ wouldn’t like the metal look. Something silly about it looking too kook-ish. The colored rim complemented your own peach hued one. 

You saw the love of your life standing at the edge of the cliff, looking out into the ocean. You took a minute to regain composure and breathe. The leather chain was weaved into your now clammy hand, the pendant leaving an impression on your palm. 

“Hey J, I’m glad you made it,” he turned around to greet you.

“You said it was important, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” A smile spread across your face, appreciating how considerate he could be. 

He could tell you were nervous. The shifting of weight from leg to leg, avoiding eye contact, and most importantly, the hiding of hands behind your back. You plopped down next to him, feet dangling off the edge just as he did. 

“Alright, spill, you look like you’re going to explode,” he chuckled. You looked up with nervous eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t run away when he realized what the token meant. 

“So, you know how in my family we have the tradition of the St. Christopher necklace? Well, it’s like a right of passage, or an induction I guess to our family itself.” As you rambled JJ went into thought. He had heard many stories from your grandpa about how he believed the spirit had saved him. “And I was talking with Papa about mine, when he said that it’s time that I gave you one.”

With that last statement, you jutted your right hand forward, opening your palm to present him with the necklace. A blank expression washed over his face as he looked at the object. 

“I figured since adventurers and surfers tend to wear them, you being both, it would keep you safe. Especially now that we’re on some treasure hunt,” you spoke as you looked away. 

JJ gently took the charm out of your palm and placed it on his neck, lying just below the shark tooth. He smiled, looking into your eyes. The gray-blue that lined the man’s imprint matched is eyes.

“Is this your formal way of accepting me into your family?” He asked. You simply nodded, pulling him to kiss your lips. 

Over the next few months the tale around the necklace seemed to have proved its purpose.

                                                          ~~~

When John B proposed the idea of surfing the surge there was no way JJ could decline. With the rare amount of storms, the thought of multiple good waves was too appealing. Of course you would have loved to join the duo, but you were out cold on JJ’s bed at the chateau. He just couldn’t bring himself to wake you up. 

They made their way to the beach, dropping all their stuff on the sand and taking off towards the water. The waves were angry, almost as if they were trying to knock the boys off their boards. JJ being the daring bastard he is, he kept going out farther from the shore each time. 

“Dude, be careful, it's getting really rough out here!” John B yelled out to his friend. JJ simply ignored him and kept swimming. 

Once he was satisfied with his location, he turned around ready to ride the wave back to shore. The surf didn’t go as planned as he was quickly knocked off the board by a huge gust of wind and spray. 

He felt his body scrape the ocean floor, while the current kept him tumbling like dirty clothes. No matter how hard he tried to swim up, he was sloshed around underneath. JJ could feel his lungs burning, dying for air. 

During JJ’s fight to resurface, John B sat at the edge of the beach looking for his blonde friend. He began to panic when his board washed back to shore without its owner. Trying to explain to you how he lost your boyfriend in a surge was going to be a nightmare. How would he tell you? ‘Oh hey Y/n, I uh, couldn’t find JJ after he went down in the surge.’ That was definitely not going to cut it.  

Next thing he knew JJ was washed up, coughing with a slight gash above his eyebrow, two yards away from his board. Relief and color flooded JB’s face. 

“Dude, thank god you’re alive. We’re done for the day.” JJ simply nodded as they made their way back to the Chateau. 

You hadn’t woken up yet, still in a deep sleep, when the two entered the house once again. They quickly agreed not to tell you about the little incident that had just occurred, and go take a nap.

As JJ peeled off his wet bottoms and replaced them with sweatpants, he noticed the pendant on his neck. St. Christopher. He owed the legend big time. He turned to you, chuckling at how you slept. He tried to squeeze in around your body, but since you currently resembled a crumpled piece of paper, he lifted you up a tad to allow him to slip next to you. You barely woke up, but you stirred enough to realize who was underneath you. Your fingers brushed his necklace and you instantly nuzzled to the boy next to you.

                                                       ~~~

The second time the necklace seemed to be looking out for JJ was when he had a run in with his father. JJ had loudly stumbled into the house, causing Luke to wake up. The man’s footsteps came barreling through the house to meet the intruder. When he saw it was his son, he was livid. 

The alcohol induced rage made Luke only see red. He littered blow after blow to his son, not hearing the screams coming out of JJ’s mouth.

“You stupid motherfucker, coming into my house, loud as all can be, especially when I have to work tomorrow,” JJ knew working was a lie, his father gambled on Tuesdays. “I do nothing but provide for your lazy ass and this is how you repay me?” 

JJ prepared himself for another kick or punch or slap, but it never came. He opened his eyes to see his father lying on the ground. 

He quickly picked himself up, grabbed a few things from his room and exited the house, making his way back to the chateau. The entire walk back he played with the necklace he had removed from his neck. The cold metal in his hand was the only thing keeping him semi-relaxed as he made his way to your house. 

   He bound through the front door, marching directly to your room, catching you off guard as you were reading a book. The marks that tracked his body were fresh, and so was the emotional turmoil. JJ threw himself on to your bed, dying to find comfort in something that smelled like you. 

You tended to his physical and emotional wounds as best as you could, desperately trying to provide as much security as you could. The boy looked so young and vulnerable as his wet hair clung to his face and he was wrapped in a quilt. You held him close to your chest, swaying gently.

“He brought me home,” his voice crackled. You let out a noise of confusion. “St. Christopher, he brought me home. Maybe not scratch-free, but he made sure I made it.”

The size of your heart had grown four times in size. The small necklace was wrapped around his hand, sitting in between his pointer and middle finger. 

“St. Christopher knows right where you belong.”

                                                         ~~~

The third, and hopefully not last, time St. Christopher had brought JJ back to you was the most defining. 

Each pogue member had their own intricate tasks on how to get John B and Sarah off the island, your’s being a distraction for the police force. The only specific detail you had to follow was the timing. You needed to capture an audience after dark when the lovers would try to exit island waters. The larger the distraction the better, but you may have overdid it this time. 

While JJ, Kie and Pope had been prepping the boat all day for the escape, you had been wandering the island looking for trouble. Within the time period of you being MIA, you managed to stumble upon Rafe Cameron looking as cracked out as ever. Bingo, you thought, time to light the fuse. 

Walking up to Rafe, you began to pester him. Talking about Sarah, cocaine, and how his dad wasn’t happy that he killed the Sheriff. Telling him he never would live up to the kook expectations. You tried to pull out every card you could to infuriate him. 

Now, hours later, and many many provoking conversations with Rafe later, it was dark and your time to shine, or die.

The police officers were trying to negotiate with Sarah and John B, but were at a complete halt when they saw you were being held with a knife to your throat. You were bloodied and cut as his knife hadn’t been an empty threat

“If-if you don’t stop all of this nonsense about finding my sister, I-I will slit her throat,” Rafe screamed. 

The attention attracted the cameras, Ward, all the deputies and even your friends who were waiting in the tent next to the police. Your panicked face had everyone forgetting about the two escapees. 

“Rafe, son, please put the knife down,” Ward tried to coax him. You instantly felt the blade tighten against your throat. Tears ran down your face, small cries floated from your lips. Rafe’s dirty fingernails dug into your hips causing you to drop to one side in pain. 

“NO! She knows the truth Dad! We need to silence her! I managed to capture her, aren’t you proud Dad?” You pressed your head back into him, trying to get away from the knife, but that action had backfired. He pressed his face against yours, getting spit and tears on your cheek. 

Something must have clicked in Ward’s head because his next statement saved your life. “Of course Rafe, I’m so proud of you.” 

As you dropped to the ground, you were surrounded by an officer, carrying you over to the group of kids who you loved most of all. You could only pick out one voice though, JJ. 

“Y/n, don’t you ever do that again!” he scolded while pulling you against his body. “I can’t lose JB and you on the same night.”

You gently giggled against his chest, trying to stop the tears and from flowing. You were too happy to be pressed up against his chest, smelling the faint scent of weed, deodorant and salt. 

“Don’t be mad, I had to go that far, it was the only way,” you wailed. The grip on you tightened as you felt Kiara and Pope hug you as well. 

It was hours after your parents and grandpa had come to retrieve you and JJ from the beach, and the two of you laid in your bed, refusing to be further than three feet away. Your stomach was pressed against JJ’s as you ran your fingers around his collar bone. His lips sat on the crown of your forehead. 

You broke the silence with words that echoed JJ’s from a few months before. “I did it because I knew he would bring me home to you. No matter how big the adventure, he’d bring me home. One day he’ll bring us home to our biggest adventure, but today was not the day. He knew we were still needed.”

[copperbadge]

Hi. I love your blog! I’m in the middle of a second major depressive episode (my first was in my teens) and like you were, I’m unemployed and living with my parents. I’m now on medication and getting help and applying for jobs, but no luck so far. How did you ‘turn your life around’ and how long did it take you – going from depressed to starting a successful career in the non-profit world? Any advice on how I could do the same?

Oh, Anon. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this but in no way did I turn my life around, and I definitely didn’t build a career intentionally. 

A lot of the below is general advice -- you are already doing great! -- but I figure some people who are where you are but not quite as far along could be helped by it. Thanks for the opportunity :)

So, here’s the thing: depression is the kind of mental illness that can just be with you for the rest of your life even when it’s not impacting your life. Some depression is situational and therefore (theoretically) escapable, but some of us are just never going to forge enough serotonin on a regular enough schedule. So it’s not a matter of beating depression or backing away from it, but of learning good coping mechanisms: how to recognize an episode is coming, how to keep functioning in a depressive episode, when to ask for help. 

And unfortunately while I can tell you what works for me, this is going to vary by person. Some people feel sad all the time; some people feel numb; some people feel okay but are overly impacted by minor setbacks or frustrations, or can do normal life stuff but any deviation from routine sends them into a spiral. These are just examples; there are more. My methods of coping are stuff like building lists, making sure that those lists have stuff like “communicate with friends” on them, being on specific platforms that make that communication easy, and inasmuch as I can, avoiding drama and volatile emotions. Doing the bare minimum of housework to keep myself from being MORE depressed. Making sure my work gets done so that I keep my job, even if I feel like other parts of my life might be out of control. 

And as I’ve recently mentioned, I write fiction as a stress response. If I’m not writing but I’m doing okay -- keeping my house clean, feeling good, having fun -- that’s fine. Not optimal, I like writing, but it’s fine. If I’m writing, I’m probably a little stressed, but I’m managing it. If I’m not writing AND I’m not functioning well, or I know I’m unhappy, then I know that the depression is probably worse than I think it is, and I need to go into survival mode. 

Some people need meds -- taken year round, even when you’re not depressed. There’s no shame in that and if you aren’t currently using medication, I would recommend at least investigating its use to see if it could help. [ETA: Sorry I 100% missed the part where you are on medication, but this is still useful for others so I’m leaving it in.]

So like...”how long did it take me” is a tough question to answer because I’m still in it. I will be, all my life, and once I came to accept that, I could figure out ways to keep it from devastating me. How long it took me to establish good coping mechanisms? Well, I was diagnosed at 17, which is a rough age to be when it starts happening, but I managed to survive college (barely) and I feel like I had a pretty good handle on managing it by the time I was, I guess about 25. The point at which I was unemployed and living with my parents was the absolute low point of my life, when I was 23-24, but that was compounded by external factors. As soon as I got out of my parents’ house, things improved; as soon as I had a job, even a truly shitty one, I felt like life was survivable. (A huge coping mechanism in those days was actually Netflix, back when it was a mail-you-a-DVD service, because I knew at least a few times a week I would get mail addressed to me with a nice surprise in it.) 

And the thing about being here now is -- my parents gave me three grand to get out of the house, find a place of my own, and survive 2-3 months until I could find a job. I couldn’t have done any of what I’ve done without three solid thousand dollars, and even then I got lucky. I quit my first, super shitty job (the only time I have EVER quit a job) and got a job with my last place of work literally two week before the 2008 financial crisis hit. That job happened to be a very visible if very ground-floor administrative position, and from there I was able to impress people who wanted to hire me up to the next administrative level, and from there I was promoted into the department because I showed an active and visible interest in the work they did. That was intentional, but literally nothing before it was anything other than “I need a job and this one offers health insurance.”  

Once you have a job in which advancement is possible, which again is a matter somewhat of luck, advancing is just a matter of maintaining a good work-life balance while doing good work and showing you’re interested in supporting the mission of the company. Documenting the work you do, asking for raises, asking or applying for advancement -- putting yourself forward. That’s not so hard. But that’s kind of like starting on third base and telling someone you just need to run 90 feet. You’ve got to get to third base first and for me that was a lot of luck. 

But here’s the kicker: you can’t win the lottery unless you buy a ticket. So for you, right now, waiting on that opportunity, your job is to keep yourself alive and reasonably looked-after, gather all the energy you have, and start figuring out a game plan. Whether that’s a shitty job that you agree with yourself you’ll only do for a year, or asking your parents for a huge financial leap of faith if they’re able -- three grand was a LOT for my parents but they knew it was probably going to save my life -- or applying to better jobs that could push you up the ladder. And of course we’re in a pandemic so like, fuck the world, all of this is just that much harder. But people are being hired, and people are moving into apartments, and going to therapy, and doing their best. So there’s hope, as long as you start homebrewing it first. 

The thing that has helped me the most in the last twenty years, and which I think may be most helpful and simultaneously most frustrating to you, is that I never just said “I don’t like where I am or what I’m feeling”. I started there, absolutely, but then I asked, “What can I change to stop feeling this way?”

You have to rule out “nothing” as an answer. You probably will have to sit with the question for a while, maybe even a few weeks. You may need to google some weird shit to figure it out. And maybe what you do is a stupid stop-gap like buying yourself a $1 blind box toy once a week so you can feel surprise at something again. Maybe you admit that right now you need to pass the baton and you unfollow or blacklist political activism and activists and just fill your social media with people making dumb dad jokes and posting cat pictures. Maybe that gives your brain breathing room to find more permanent solutions.

But once you get in the habit of “how can I change this”, solutions do start to appear. 

So, yeah. Truth is I worked super hard but I also got super lucky. But part of being lucky was being there when the luck finally hit. So I’m wishing you, wholeheartedly, the best of luck. 

(Also if your parents have money and aren’t assholes I can’t recommend “Make them give you a long-term loan to get on your feet” strongly enough.)

[tmnt-mags]

Raphael x Fem!Reader

Reader is April's little sister and meets the turtles through her. I changed the ages and timeline a bit just because I don't feel entirely comfortable writing the turtles as 15 year old kids. SO the turtles are 18 the reader is 17 nearing 18 and april is 27.

Warnings: some mention of parent death, but nothing else!

Part 1/ ??

Im still pretty new at writing fanfic and have only done a few and this is my very first tmnt one. Constructive criticism and nice things only please!

I didn't remember my dad. My mother gave birth to me a month before his death. I didn’t remember him but my big sister April did. She told me everything she could about him, all kinds of stories and old home videos. It's almost like I know him but I don’t. Sometimes it's sad and I wish for nothing more than to have some memories with him, but I’ve had a good life and have a great family. I’ve lived with my sister since our mom passed 2 years ago from cancer. I miss her a lot, but I like living with April and I love our apartment.

We both have a deep love for media. She is a reporter with Channel 6 and I started making youtube videos right around the time mom died. It was like a video diary back then and has since turned into something completely different, though there are the occasional personal diary type videos.

I was wearing my favorite oversized sweater. It was a deep forest green and nearly reached my knees. It was worn and a bit tattered in some places, but it was the coziest thing ever.. I was barefoot in the kitchen listening to April talking about the latest Foot Clan activity and thinking about the questions she was planning for some guy who worked on the docks. She had convinced her camera guy Vern to take her over there before they shot her morning segment.

“You’re gonna be late!” I called into the living room while putting some breakfastt in a container for her to take on the road.

“Thank you shorty,” She rushed in and gave me a kiss on the cheek as she grabbed her breakfast and rushed out of the kitchen again to grab her bag “I’ll either be back for dinner or late!”

“That's really specific April,” I mutter as a lean in the kitchen doorway and watch her check her purse. “Do you have your touchup bag and your toothbrush?”

April let out a small gasp and rushed back to the bathroom. She came back out with a bag, gathered her things and blew a kiss as she ran out the door. I let out a laugh and went to eat my own food.

I spent the day editing a new video. I just hit 700k last week so I was making a special video to celebrate. It had some songs that I had covered laid over a video of me painting a portrait of my mother and father. It was taken a year before he had died and they had gone on a weekend getaway in the Appalachian mountains.

I didn't look up until April burst through the door. It was already dark out and I hadn’t even noticed.

“I just witnessed a Foot Clan attack!” she called as she walked through the apartment.

“What? Oh my god! Are you okay?” I practically jumped up and followed her as she began pacing around the living room. “April? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! There I was at the docks trying to get some answers and then BAM! They were there!” She went on about the attack and then started about some kind of vigilante that fought them off.

“Vigilante? Are you serious?” She didn't answer, she just went into her room. I sat back down on the couch and tried to process what she had said. In the end I shook it off and went get some dinner ready.

Over the next few days April was hard to find. She seemed to be constantly on the move and didn't answer her phone. She came home talking about dad's old experiments and giant turtles, and over the next 2 days seemed to just be gone. The spire on the Sacks building fell and The Shredder, who was the leader of the Foot Clan, was arrested and Eric Sacks was revealed to have been working alongside him the whole time. It was a wild time for New York, and April was suddenly quiet about the vigilantes.

Time began to move on and April started talking about these 4 new friends she had that were brothers. They seemed like a fun nice group, and the stories she shared were great.

“So,” I started as we sat together on the couch, “when do I get to meet the brothers?”

April choked on her glass of white wine. “What? Meet them?”

“Yeah, You talk about them all the time! I would like to meet them. They’re all you’ve been talking about for like 3 weeks.” I said as I pushed her with my foot.

“Ummm,” April stopped to think and had a vague look of concern on her face, “I'm not sure actually. They’re pretty busy guys.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Uh-huh. If you don't want me to meet them just say so. I was just curious.” I turn my face away from her.

“No it's not that, It's just they’re kinda shy. They don’t really like meeting people.” April's face said that she was telling a lie.

“Okay.” I left it at that clearly something is bugging her about me meeting her friends.

April-

April went to spend some time with the boys, but couldn’t stop thinking about them meeting her little sister. How would she react? She thought to herself, ‘I fainted when I met them, and there are still times when it kinda freaks me out a bit. I don’t want my baby sister to get scared and I don’t want the boys to get hurt because of it.’ They had tried to act like April’s reaction didn’t hurt them, but she knew it did. ‘I just want everyone to be happy.’ She was sitting in the lair watching the boys fight and Mikey brought up their Christmas pop album again. She smiled, (y/n) loved music and often performed covers on YouTube. She was really good at it. She had even written her own songs but at this point refused to release or talk about them on her channel.

“April, is something troubling you?” The brunette turned, surprised to see Master Splinter.

“Oh it’s nothing really.” She paused, “Actually could we talk? I am having some trouble.” Splinter nodded and gestured for her to follow. Not answering the questioning looks of the brothers, they went into Hashi.

“The boys avoid this room as much as possible,” Splinter said with a chuckle, “they will not listen in in here.”

“Makes sense,” April laughed and sat down on a mat with Splinter while looking at the odd structures in the room, “I’m having some trouble with my sister.”

“Oh yes, little (y/n) she had only just been born. I believe your father brought her down to the lab twice in those last weeks.” He thought back fondly on the small soft baby that looked so tiny in the arms of her father but so big compared to him then. “ what is it that is wrong?”

“She wants to meet the brothers. She doesn’t know that they are turtles, but she knows I have new friends.” April said looking down, “ we are very open. We’re the only family we have left so we always know each other's friends. It’s a safety thing I guess.”

Master Splinter hummed and looked at April, who continued.

“She wants to meet them and honestly I want her to too! I think they would all get along so well and I think the boys would adore her. It would also be nice to know that there are 4 ninjas who would look out for her.” April sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“I just don’t want the boys to get hurt. What if she is afraid of them? What if she screams and calls them monsters or freaks? What if she passes out or cries. It would hurt them so much, and I don’t want to see my sister frightened anyway.” April’s shoulders slumped and she lowered her face to look across at Splinter.

“You know your sister well? Do you think she will react this way?” The rat questioned.

“I don’t know. This isn’t exactly a situation that has ever come up before or one I ever thought I would be in.” She played with her fingers in her lap and she watched him stroke his beard.

“I think you know your sister well and know what would be the best course of action.” He smiled, “I think the trouble now will be convincing the boys to risk meeting her. I have no doubt that it will be a split crowd.”

April nodded and gave a kind of exasperated smile. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Mikey and Ralph would agree, Donnie was iffy, but Leo would say no.

“Thank you Splinter. That does actually help. Do you mind if I stay in here a bit longer?” She asked.

“Go ahead child. Take your time.” Splinter got up and left the Hashi.

April sat and thought about what he had said. She thought back to everything she knew about her sister and what she knew of the boys. If her sister could be accepting she knew that they could have a great friendship. The boys were half a year older than her and they didn't know anyone their age. It would be nice for them to have that she thought. She knew Mikey would be super friendly right away, maybe even too friendly. Donnie would be polite but wary at first and a bit excited. Raph would be happy just to meet another person, but Leo would be cold. She feared that he would be distant and unapproachable and she knew her sister well enough to know she wouldn't be able to handle that.

She took her time and eventually rejoined the brothers. She brushed off their questions with a simple: “I needed advice.” She sat down with them as they all talked and joked around. Finally Donnie brought up the perfect opportunity.

“April you're lucky you don't have brothers.” He said as Mikey bombarded him with insane ideas for gadgets.

“Well I don't have any brothers but I do have a baby sister.” The turtles all turned towards her clearly shocked by this news. “She's actually about 4 months from turning 18.”

“Woah Angelcakes, We didn't know you had a lil’ sis. Is she as beautiful as you?” Mikey said while batting his eyes at her.

“I think she is absolutely gorgeous, and she sings and does art. She’s about to be a senior in high school.” April said while leaning closer to mikey. “Shes shorter than me and has curves for days. She used to be on the dance team actually.” April laughed and Mikey threw himself back and fanned himself with his hand.

“Why haven't you mentioned her?” Leo asked.

“You never asked if I had any siblings. She was born a few weeks before my dad died.” April smiled sadly at that “She actually asked if she could meet you.”

The boys seemed to freeze at that, and suddenly all eyes were on her.

“You told about us?”. Raph asked.

“Kinda. I might have left out the part about being ninja turtles, but I told her about my new friends and she wants to meet you guys.” Raph scoffed at her answer.

“So you didn't actually tell her about us.” He almost snapped at her.

“Cool it Raph.” leo warned.

“I don't wanna be looked at like a freak. She won't want to meet us when she sees us.” he stood up and walked off. April looked at the others who all looked like they wanted to disagree and agree with Raph at the same time.

“Sorry angelcakes, I'm sure baby angelcakes is great though.” Mikey shrugged.

April sat in disbelief that they all basically said no. The lair was quiet after that and she left after they ate some dinner.

She got home only to remember her sister was spending the night at her friends house. So she had the place all to herself. She let out a sigh and poured herself a tall glass of wine and sat on the couch thinking about the events of the day. She came up with a plan as she finished her cup and decided that by the end of the week they boys will have met her baby sister. She grabbed her phone and invited the boys to come hang out at her place for once this upcoming weekend. They didn't even ask if her sister would be there.

(Y/N)-

April had gone out to pick up some pizza for a late night dinner. I had school, homework, and some video editing to do and forgot to cook. April came home late and said not to worry about it and would grab some pizza. Her new favorite place didn’t offer delivery so she went to go get it. I decided that a nice hot shower sounded good and went in. I got out as I heard the front door open and close. I made my way to my room about to throw on my favorite green sweater only to remember that It had been washed and was in the dryer. So, I wrapped my towel back around me and opened my door to head out into the living room. I walked out and looked up only to meet with 4 pairs of eyes.

“Oh my bad,” I said, turning to go back to my room only to stop and turn right back around. “Ummmm…” I trailed off not sure what to say as I stared at 4 very large, very green, oddly human like turtles, all while in a bath towel that left most of my left hip exposed.

“Oh hi (y/n). I forgot to mention I had friends coming over.” April said walking into the room. “You might wanna put some clothes on though.”

“Yeah…” I said not able to look away from the very large turtle creatures sitting in the living room.

[samanthadalton]

Star crossed lovers (au) part 4

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

in this chapter specifically there are mentions of guns too 

reader discretion is advised

taglist: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @rxssians @helpconfusedpersonhere @dopeyouth 

(i just wanted to thank you guys for your patience with this fic because i know im not the most consistent with my posting so thank you for reading, also i’ll fix any errors later on) 

word count: 4.9k 

part 1: part 2:  part 3:  

Never bring a knife to a gun fight

Rumours of Poppy’s outburst at volleyball practice began to spread like wildfire, students all around Belvoire gossiped about the intentions behind the strawberry blonde’s confrontation. 

Some of the stories fabricated insinuated that Bea threatened Poppy to counter her friends’ behaviour, while others believed that Poppy was simply doing some charity work by helping Belvoire’s least fortunate. Not one of the rumours came close to the truth, that the girls were just simply in love. 

Saturday rolls over quickly and Poppy’s in her bedroom with Veronica sprawled out on her bed, hugging a pillow to her chest, while Poppy lays on the other side of her. Chloe however,  awkwardly sits on the edge of the bed, ostensibly feeling apprehensive about being in the same room as Poppy as she reels in from her last one on one confrontation with the strawberry blonde. 

The two girls laying down, engage in idle chit chat until they’re pulled out of their conversation when the dumb blonde lets out a small cough capturing their attention. 

“So.. are you sure you can’t ditch your dinner plans and come to the party?” She anxiously places some of her hair behind her ear, as she meets Poppy’s gaze but the blue-eyed girl holds the eye contact, determined to mitigate some of the awkwardness from the room since she’s barely spoken more than 10 words to the strawberry blonde since Thursday. 

Poppy and Veronica share a look, the unspoken words covertly communicating their plan to go to the party in the south, but the two girls remain silent, avoiding the question. Chloe stares at the two girls, oblivious to what the shared look actually means, and when her question remains unanswered she opens her mouth to ask again until Poppy clears her throat slightly and sighs, “I told you Chlo, it’s a work dinner, we don’t have a choice, our parents are forcing us to be there.”

“Yeah but you could I dont know, speak to your dad? I’m sure he would understand”

‘I’m a Min Sinclair, I can’t pick and choose what dinners I can and can’t go to, it doesn’t work like that,” Poppy adds a bit of sterness to her tone hoping the dumb blonde would get the point and leave it alone but Chloe’s infuriating relentlessness compels her to keep cracking down on the strawberry blonde, inclined to make her change her mind. She drags her body from the edge of the bed to the middle, and perches herself on her knees as she faces the two girls, “the party won’t be as fun without you guys there”. 

Poppy lips move to an imperceptible frown as her mind and heart begin to battle over whose party she should go to tonight. While she promised Bea she would go to the party tonight, Chloe was acting suspiciously clingy and things between the two girls were still fragile. Warily watching the strawberry blonde lost in speculation, Veronica intercepts before Poppy can come up with an answer, “have you met her dad Chloe? There’s no way Mr Min Sinclair will let us miss the dinner for a party, don’t be stupid” 

Veronica’s cutthroat tone is enough for the dumb blonde to stop pushing and she purses her lips in retort. Veronica almost feels bad so she adds, “but I agree, the party is gonna be dead without the two of us there” she smiles and slightly nudges Poppy with her shoulder hoping to alleviate some of the awkwardness. However to her dismay, the atmosphere slips back to being awkward and the girls reside in the uncomfortable silence that follows until Poppy’s phone begins to chirp with messages. She apprehensively picks up her phone but can’t help the smile on her face when she sees Bea’s name pop up on her screen.

B 💖

Hey beautiful, can’t wait to see you at the party tonight 

Zoey’s looking forward to seeing Veronica tonight but don’t tell her I told you that otherwise she’ll kill me 

Also can’t wait to see what you’re gonna wear tonight 👀🥵

After reading the series of texts from Bea, Poppy’s practically grinning like a Cheshire cat as she types out her response, her attention shifts solely focusing on the brunette and she mentally reprimands herself for doubting which party she should go to, since the choice is undoubtedly clear. 

Past memories of her going to parties with Bea surges through her mind and she revels in the memory of her first ever southside party. She recollects how nervous Bea was as the 15 year old girls made their way to the drinks table and Bea accidentally spilled her drink on Poppy’s top, after having a couple of beers beforehand, and Poppy teased what a lightweight she was. Bea’s face practically reddened with embarrassment as she offered her girlfriend to wear her hoodie to cover the drink stain, while she walked around the party in her tank top and caught a cold the next day. It was the small moments like that that made Poppy appreciative of Bea’s kindness and thoughtfulness and reminded the strawberry blonde exactly why she loves her. While reminiscing about the past, Poppy’s practically pulled from her thoughts when Chloe taps her leg, frowning. 

‘Who are you uh talking to Poppy?” 

Poppy visibly stiffens and turns off her phone, her mouth begins to feel dry as her brain goes into overdrive trying to come up with an authentic lie. “Just uhh going through my insta dms, the amount of creativity these creeps have is hilarious” 

Chloe gawks at Poppy, not entirely convinced but she nods in response, not wanting to press the matter further. Veronica quickly sits up, a soft gasp leaving her lips as she stares at the time on her phone, “Crap, I gotta go and edit my video so I can upload it tonight”, she gets up to grab her bag and Chloe uses the opportunity to leave with Veronica as she knows that her and Poppy are yet to still be on normal speaking terms. After a few goodbye hugs and a promise from Veronica that she’ll see the strawberry blonde tonight, Poppy walks them down to the front door and watches the girls leave. 

Just as she’s about to head about to her room, a voice booms out from the living room, Poppy freezes mid-step on the stairs and internally sighs, ‘crap’ she thinks to herself, her dad’s home. 

“Poppy, come over here for a second”, Poppy mentally braces herself and holds her head up high, keeps her posture straight and walks into the living room to see her father sitting on his favourite chair and a stack of documents on the table beside him. 

“Hi daddy”, she places a sweet kiss on his cheek and he makes a gesture for her to sit opposite him on the sofa. He places his hand on the frame of his glasses and takes it off and begins rubbing at the glass with the hem of his shirt before placing it back on his face. 

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you this week princess, how was your first week as a senior?” 

Poppy usually gets nervous when speaking with her father about any aspect of her life really, because he isn’t always the most affectionate or warming person. She purses her lips together in thought before answering, “It was good daddy, I’m in a lot of the AP classes so I’ve been making sure I stay on track for what’s expected for the classes”. 

Her father beams at her response and slaps his hand against his knee, “that’s my girl”, but his expression quickly sobers as he fixates his gaze on the blonde, “so, you didn’t run into any problems this week?” His tone is almost intimidating and suggestive as Poppy subtly sinks into the sofa a little, her thoughts beginning to run wild as she struggles to grasp at her father’s implication.

“Uh no, not really dad” 

“Huh, I heard that friend of yours, Chloe? She had a fight with that Hughes girl on the first day back. You wouldn’t be foolish enough to indulge in something so trivial would you now?” 

Poppy clings to the edge of the sofa with a deathly drip, knuckles turning white at the mention of Bea but she lifts her body slightly in an attempt to show her father she isn’t fazed by her name and clears her throat slightly, “no dad, Chloe thought it would be a funny joke but I ended up getting detention for just being in the courtyard.” She begins to shake her head a little, “I would never involve myself in something so ludacris” she exaggeratingly rolls her eyes and fidgets with her perfectly manicured nails, soliciting her lack of interest in the topic. 

Her father gleams at her with a hint of satisfaction, and curtly nods his head at her before swiftly changing the subject. “Rita, tells me you’re planning to go to a party tonight?” 

“Umm, yeah, just a celebration party at Ford’s house, his parents know about it and- ” 

Hayden Min Sinclair raises his hand in the air and the words die out of Poppy’s mouth as she awaits for her dad to speak, “just be safe, and make sure you’re home before 12, just call Carter if you find yourself in need of a ride home”. Of course, Mr Min Sinclair would never offer to pick up his daughter himself, he knows that his daughter should be less dependent on him and should be able to fare for herself. Poppy briskly nods and moves to stand, “Well daddy, I should let you get back to your work”, she gives him a polite smile and moves towards her room, letting out a huge exhale as she closes her bedroom door. She hates hiding things from her father, but he makes it impossible for her to confide in him at all, it’s times like these where she wishes her mother was still here. 

……

Bea spends her afternoon alone after dropping her sister off at her friend’s house for the weekend and worries about her mom being AWOL and has concerns when she doesn’t pick up her phone. It isn’t until the late afternoon her mom casually strolls through the front door, her makeup has practically vanished, with only a few remnants of it smudged across her face. She moves towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water until Bea’s stomps towards the kitchen with a scowl etched onto her face as she pulls Isabella away from the sink to face her. 

“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling and texting non-stop” Bea raises her voice and points accusatively at her mother who in response blanky rolls her eyes at Bea and moves towards the cupboards scrounging for some food. Bea’s blood begins to boil as she balls her hands up into fists, her knuckles turning white, she pushes her mom against the counter and lifts her face up to look into her eyes, “You’re fucking high aren’t you?”. She takes in her mom’s features, seeing her incredibly red eyes and her chapped lips, and her slightly slanted demeanour. 

“Get the fuck off me” Isabella pushes Bea away from her, “last I remembered I’m the fucking parent here” 

“Then act like it!” Bea screams at the top of her lungs, her breaths heavy, her tone enraged as she stares down at her mother, “I have better things to do than to worry about where you are or whether you’re laying dead in a ditch somewhere” 

Isabella just places her hands on her head, trying to dull the noise sprouting from Bea’s mouth, “God, you’re hurting my head” she sniffles and simply grabs a packet of chips from the cupboard and a bottle of vodka from under the sink and retreats to her room without saying another word. 

Bea chest heaves heavily, she has no idea what to do about her mother, sometimes she wishes that she wasn’t there, then maybe she would have less to worry about. She could be a normal teenager with normal problems, instead of constantly babying her mother and being a second mom to her sister, but she remembers that she should be lucky to have a mom, no matter how shitty she might be. Her phone in her pocket buzzes and she grimaces a little when she sees the text from Poppy

P💋

hey babe 

V and I decided to go to Ford’s party just for a little bit 

Just to make a few quick introductions but we’ll be in and out of the party 

Can’t wait to see you 🥺

Bea feels a tiny pang in her heart but at least Poppy wasn’t going to completely ditch her for the night. She hoped that tonight would be just about them, that for once Poppy would let go off all expectations and just focus on herself. But Bea knew Poppy carried the world on her shoulders, that being a Min Sinclair meant that she had to sacrifice a lot, but sometimes Bea felt like she was the only thing being sacrificed, that she was the only thing that could easily be cut off. She types out a half-hearted reply to Poppy, something along the lines of ‘can’t wait to see you too’ and with that she grabs her jacket, turns around to catch a quick glance at her mother’s closed bedroom door and leaves for the party. 

……

Poppy and Veronica are walking towards Ford’s house, the faint thumping of bass music echoes throughout the neighbourhood while the girls are fixated on their hair and outfits as they walk towards the front yard. Both of the girls are wearing smart suits, to make their lie about going to a company dinner more compelling. They leave their real party outfits in the back of Veronica’s car which is parked a couple of blocks away from the house and before they enter the house Poppy grabs Veronica’s hand. 

“I told Bea that we will be in and out of the house, so let’s not waste any time. We just say a few hellos and then we go” she flips her hair throwing it back over her shoulder while Veronica rolls her eyes. 

“Hey you’re the one who decided to stop by Ford’s party, I would rather be in the southside partying it up there.” 

Poppy piercingly shushes Veronica, and in one swift move places her hand over the ombre-haired girl’s mouth, “Are you trying to expose us or something? Don’t mention the” she conspicuously u looks around and whispers, “don’t mention the southside here” 

Veronica pulls Poppy’s hand from her mouth and exaggeratingly shudders while shaking her hands, “Oh no, I forgot the southside is like Voldemort we don’t speak of it” sarcasm dripping off every word she says. 

Before Poppy can answer, a series of screams reverberates from inside the house and a few seconds later, Poppy and Veronica are engulfed in a huge bear hug from Chloe, “Oh my god, you guys made it”, she screams enthusiastically while jumping up and down in her spot clapping her hands together. 

Veronica sticks her fingers in her ears are glares at Chloe, “chill Chloe, you’re gonna burst my eardrums” 

Poppy laughs and playfully slaps Veronica on the arm and turns back to face the dumb blonde, “We’re just passing by, just because we have to go to a stuffy work dinner doesn’t mean we have to show up on time” 

Chloe grabs the two girls by the arms and pulls them into the foyer where they’re greeted by more of their peers. Ford is already half naked with a red solo cup in his hand and he waves the girls over before offering them a drink which the two girls politely decline. 

“Oh come on, one drink won’t kill you” 

“We said we’re good” Veronica’s tone is cutthroat causing Ford to back off and resume his strip pong game. 

“Ayyyyyy there are my two favourite girls” Carter slurs his words slightly and slinks an arm over each girl’s shoulders and migrates the girl’s to the back of the living room where the speakers are playing. “I thought Chloe said you guys aren’t coming? You change your mind Pops?” he flirtatiously raises an eyebrow at Poppy who playfully pushes him back in return. 

“No we still have to go to the dinner” she gestures at her suit, “we just wanted to say hi real quick” 

Chloe ambles towards the girl’s and grabs Veronica’s hand and pulls her to the dance floor without waiting for the ombre-haired girl to refuse, leaving Poppy and Carter alone. 

“So… do you really have to go? I mean you could have a lot more fun if you stayed” he takes a careful step towards the strawberry blonde, closing the distance between the two as he leans in to whisper in her ear, “we could play strip pong”, he leans back a little to stare into Poppy’s eyes. 

Poppy lets out a small awkward laugh, “um, as much fun as that sounds, Veronica and I really should get going. I don’t wanna piss off my dad” she takes a step back from the quarterback and wraps her arms around herself.  

Carter gives Poppy a long unwavering look, one she fully couldn’t dissect and understand, but he breaks the silence, “well, I hope you have fun, Chloe was worried you were ditching us for someone else” 

“Yeah, my dad’s business partners. Because work talk is absolutely riveting and exactly how I wanna spend my saturday nights” her voice brimming with sarcasm as she gives Carter a quick hug goodbye and grabs Veronica and pulls her out of the house after making a few more rounds with the rest of the students of Belvoire. 

…….

“This is a party, loosen up a little” Zoey rolls her eyes and hands Bea a red plastic cup, before taking a small sip from hers, “don’t tell me the princess of Greensburg decided to not show up” 

Bea lighthearted rolls her eyes and takes a huge swig of her cup, “she said she’s coming, okay? She’s just saying a quick hi to her friends” 

“Yeah sure, because she would rather hang out with the people at the bottom of the food chain than preppy rich kids who can probably afford a better sound system and drinks than this” 

“Oh hush, you’re just in a sour mood because Veronica isn’t here yet” Zoey pinches Bea on her arm, “ow ow, okay, it doesn’t make it any less true though. I mean you practically begged me to invite her” 

“Shut up. I don’t care if she’s here or not. But let's just say I’ve been doing a lot of wishful thinking and I’m wearing my best bra tonight” she gives Bea a sly wink who just laughs. “So,, I still can’t believe you let Poppy off that easily after the shit that happened on monday” 

Bea stiffens a little, her expression quickly sobering as she turns to face Zoey, “look, we spoke about it and we’re moving past it. I told her she isn’t exactly out of the dog house but I’m not gonna sit here and wallow about it. What’s done is done” she gives Zoey a fixed look, meaning that she was done talking about it and Zoey raises her hands in defence

“Maybe if you let me beat Chloe’s ass then I would let Poppy off” Bea playfully shoves Zoey with her shoulder, “only if I can join you”, the two girls laugh until Zoey catches Bea staring into the inside of her cup, her eyes barren. “Hey, I’m sorry for bringing it up. It just pisses me off that those entitled bitches think they can do shit like that” 

Bea solemnly shakes her head, “well, it’s Isabella’s fault to be honest. Everywhere I go, it’s like I’m haunted by her past and all the shit she’s done. Like they all expect me to become a deadbeat like her” 

Zoey empathetically rubs Bea’s back, as the brunette clenches her jaw slightly to stop her lips from quivering, and she blinks back the tears forming in her eyes before letting out a sad laugh, “God, you just told me to lighten up and I just made this entire atmosphere depressing” 

“Bitch, who cares? You’re my best friend, you know you can talk to me about anything, anytime” she gives Bea a one armed hug while balancing her drink and when the hug breaks off she drains the rest of her cup. “Do you want another drink?” Bea shakes her head and Zoey flounces off to grab another drink. Bea bops her head along to the music until a pair of hands cover her eyes from behind her, and a soft voice whispers in her ear, “guess who?” 

Bea grins and delicately removes the hands from her eyes and turns around to see Poppy in her skin tight pink dress and moves in to give a long lingering kiss. “You finally made it” she kisses the strawberry blonde again before realising Veronica is standing behind Poppy with her arms crossed waiting as her eyes move to scan the backyard. “Hey Veronica, if you’re looking for Zoey she went inside a few minutes ago to get a drink” Veronica nonchalantly raises an eyebrow and looks towards the house, “well, I’m suddenly feeling parched, I’ll see you girls later” she gives them a wink and struts towards the house. 

Poppy laughs while shaking her head but stops when she sees Bea appraising her, looking at her up and down with lust in her eyes. Poppy gives Bea her signature smirk and does a small twirl for the brunette, “so you like what you see?” 

Bea moves towards the girl, hugging her curves while staring into the blonde’s eyes with undisguised desire, “mmhmm, you look gorgeous”, she nods towards the group of people who are dancing along to the music, “dance with me?” 

Poppy grabs Bea’s hand and manoeuvres her to the middle of the makeshift dance floor and the girls laugh, drink and dance for a couple of songs until Bea whispers into Poppy’s ear, “let’s get out of here” 

She takes the blonde’s hand and moves towards the inside of the house and they stumble towards the bedrooms, and when they open the first door they simultaneously gasp when they see Veronica and Zoey making out on the bed, both girls half naked. 

“Oh my god Bea get out” Zoey throws a pillow towards the door and in response Bea throws her head back laughing, “sorry, sorry, but the bra is kinda cute Zo”. Zoey gives Bea the finger as they leave the room and eventually, they find an empty bedroom and are already locked in a passionate embrace before the door even closes. 

Bea roughly shoves Poppy against the door pressing her lips to Poppy’s, devouring her as her tongue slips into the blonde’s as her moans set the brunette alight. Bea caresses her tongue with Poppy’s and breaks the kiss to start kissing down her neck and then her jawline until she reaches the sensitive spot behind her ear and begins to suck at it. A moan escapes Poppy’s lips as her hands wrapped around the taller girl’s neck as her eyes roll back begging for more. 

Bea pulls back and the two girls begin shredding off their clothes before jumping into the strangers bed, their lips locked once again, reigniting the very same passion. Bea sits up and leads Poppy onto her lap, she grabs the blonde’s hips and presses her down onto her thigh before whispering into her ear, “ride” and without missing a beat, Poppy does. She unrelentlessly presses her sensitive spot down on Bea’s thigh and rocks her hips, as she buries her face into the crook of Bea’s neck, muffling her moans. Bea feels the heat emitting from the blonde’s legs and lets out a groan as her hands grip Poppy’s hips even more and she begins alternating between kissing and sucking at the blonde’s chest. 

“Please Bea” Poppy’s breaths come in hot and heavy as she begs for release, so Bea decides to give into the desire and flips the blonde over, pressing her deeper into the mattress while her fingers play with the waistband of her panties. She slips her hand inside and uses her thumb to encircle her clit, before slipping a finger inside her, and she begins pumping. Poppy’s back arches off the bed, groans echoing in the room as Bea slips another finger in, letting the blonde’s moans guide her as she brings the girl to the edge and lets her ride in the orgasm not stopping until she slumps back into the bed. 

…. 

A little while later the girls get dressed and make their way back to the party where they see Zoey and Veronica in the corner whispering sweet nothings to each other and giggling. “They should just date already don’t you think?” Poppy leans on Bea’s shoulder, humming peacefully as she looks at the two girls. 

“They should but they won’t. They’re both terrible with commitment”, Bea places a sweet kiss on Poppy’s forehead, “drink?” 

“Yes please” 

Bea squeezes Poppy’s hand and strolls into the house to grab the drinks. While waiting for Bea, Poppy stands in the front yard staring up at the sky until a unfamiliar hand, cups her ass and whispers into her ear, “what’s a girl like you doing alone here”, Poppy jerks away form the stranger, her nostrils flaring as she gives the guy a deathly stare. 

“Don’t fucking touch me” 

“Wow, I like my girls rowdy” he tries to touch a stray piece of the blonde’s hair that sticks out but she grabs his wrist and pushes him back, her eyes scanning the front yard hoping Bea will be back. 

“Hey! What the hell is going on here?” AJ sidles up to Poppy as he begins to stare down the young man who just demeaningly laughs in AJ’s face. 

“Get outta here kid, can’t you see I’m talking to someone” 

“Well she has a girlfriend so get lost”. The stranger stares at Poppy, an unsettling glint in his eyes before he steps forward and puts two of his fingers under Poppy’s chin lifting her face a little, “so you’re a lesbo? Well we can change that”. Before Poppy can step back AJ shoves the boy back who in retort takes out a knife holding it out against AJ. “fuck off now”. 

After catching up with a few friends, Bea hears about a commotion in the front yard and rushes out to see AJ barricading Poppy with his body while someone holds out a knife to his chest. Poppy’s eyes flash when she realises Bea is here and Bea moves behind the figure and takes out a small pocket knife from her jeans and lightly presses it against the stranger’s neck. Poppy lets out a small gasp, her body trembles slightly as she takes in the fact that Bea is holding a knife. 

“I don’t know who the fuck you are but you better back the fuck off right now unless you want to get your throat slit” her voice is quiet but her tone is challenging. The stranger raises his hands in the air and Bea warily puts the knife down, avoiding any eye contact with Poppy. In a swift move, the stranger throws Bea’s knife out of her hand, puts her in a headlock and presses the knife against her throat, creating a small cut as blood lightly begins to trickle down her neck. 

“No!” Poppy moves forward but AJ steps in front of her and in a flash he grabs an object from the waistband of trousers and holds it up to the stranger. Everyone in the front yard begins to panic and move out of the way as they all segregate themselves from the confrontation.

“AJ stop” Bea pleads with the young boy when she realises he has a gun in his hand as he points it to the stranger. 

“Move away from her now or I’ll shoot” his voice trembles slightly as his hand shakes but he grips the gun tighter as his gaze pierces into the stranger. 

“You won’t do it” he presses his knife into Bea’s throat a little more, who just winces at the pain while Poppy painfully watches the ordeal unfold, her heart hammering into her eardrums. 

AJ places his hand on the trigger, his stance unwavering, “try me”. The stranger grimaces at AJ before removing his knife and pushing Bea forward, “you better watch your back kid” and with that he runs from the party. Poppy moves towards Bea, her hand cups the part of Bea’s neck with the cut and she turns to look at AJ, whose eyes are blank like he’s just seen a ghost. 

“AJ, I-” Bea steps towards AJ who just looks at Bea with grief and embarrassment, “I’m sorry Bea” he puts the gun back in his waistband and runs off without looking back. 

“What the fuck, Bea are you okay?” Poppy begins to examine the wound but Bea’s thoughts are enveloped in everything that just happened, her body trembles slightly as she takes in the fact that AJ now has a gun. In the background of the commotion, the fireworks are set off, colouring the sky in an array of colours but the girls can barely focus on them since they knew they were in deep shit.

read part 5 here

[zootopiathingz]

Between the Odds

Part Twenty: No More Secrets

Just as expected, recovery seemed to last forever. It hadn't even been a week since Judy was brought home and she was already bored out of her mind. She never left the apartment unless it was to get the mail. Nick hardly let her do anything while he was there. He did all of the chores, errands, etc. He also had to help her bathe, which admittedly she didn't mind, but it was still a tedious process that took longer than it should have every time.

Judy dreaded every second she spent doing nothing at home, just sitting around with her thoughts and worries. She hated feeling weak, like she couldn't do anything for herself. She also hated being left alone while Nick was at work, which just gave her more time to think about everything that was happening in Zootopia. The situation was getting worse and worse everyday. It didn't seem like things would be back to normal anytime soon, not until animals calmed down.

But how could they calm down? How could anything be considered "normal" after what happened at the protest? Mammals died that day, the one responsible for their deaths was off the grid, and the rest involved were traumatized by the experience. There was nothing normal about any of this.

Judy sighed as she laid down on her bed, settling in for another night of bad dreams and three hours of sleep. She had a hard time getting rest these days, and it was worse when Nick wasn't around to comfort her. But she understood he was going to be working late tonight, so she had no choice but to go to bed without him there.

She remained on her back, careful not to put too much pressure on her shoulder while she got comfortable. She left the TV on for some background noise, and to have some light in the room, since laying in the darkness only made it harder for her to feel safe. However, right as she closed her eyes, she heard her phone going off.

"Ugh.." She groaned, reaching over to grab it to see who was calling her. She figured it was Nick at first, and hoped he was calling to tell her he was on his way home. But to her surprise (and annoyance), it was her parents. The last thing she wanted to do right now was talk to them, mostly because she was tired and just wanted the day to be over with. But she knew if she didn't answer, they would freak out and assume she was dead.

With a heavy sigh, Judy sat up and answered the video call, forcing a small smile upon seeing her parents on the screen. "Hey guys. Why are you calling this late?"

They both appeared to be relieved when they saw her face, which confused her for a second. Up until her mother spoke up, "Thank goodness! We heard about what happened at that protest in Zootopia, they said you were shot!"

"Relax Mom, I'm fine. It's just my shoulder." She said calmly, although it was no use to try to ease their worries. They overreacted at everything.

"Just your shoulder?! Oh my gosh, are you okay? How bad is it?" Bonnie asked nervously.

"It's fine. They removed the bullet, nothing is wrong with it." She explained, a little wearily. As much as she loved her parents and appreciated the concern, she was in no mood to deal with it right now. "I have to take off work for a while, though. But that's just a precaution."

"Oh, my poor baby." Bonnie frowned, covering her mouth. Never in her life did she think this could happen to any of her children.

"You know, sweetie, if you need any help you can always ask us." Her father, Stu, chimed in. He tried to behave more calmly than his wife, but that was always a challenge for him. He was freaking out just as much as she was, and right now all he wanted was to be with his daughter to help her.

"Yeah, if you'd like we could come out there and stay with you until you go back to work!" Bonnie suggested.

Judy froze for a second, her eyes going wide. She couldn't let them stay with her, they would find out about Nick! Sure, she's mentioned him many times to her family, but she only referred to him as her partner. She never actually told them about their relationship, and she planned to keep it that way for a while. They didn't need to know, especially not her parents.

Quickly, she tried to think of an excuse for them not to stay with her. "Uhhh, no. No, that's okay. I'm fine, really. Nick's been taking care of me— you know, when he comes over, and uh..yeah, that's about all the help I need."

"Well, that's nice of him, but I really think someone should be there with you all the time just in case." Bonnie said, "Like, what if you fall in the shower?"

Judy bit the inside of her cheek, staring off to the side. "I mean, that's unlikely. And I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. B-besides, I..don't have an extra room for you guys."

That last part was another lie, since she actually did have a spare bedroom for guests. But she couldn't let them know that. She had to say anything to get them to toss the idea away. Even though she hated lying to them, what choice did she have? If they knew she was living with a fox, they would kill her.

Although, they were a little more comfortable with foxes now, mostly because of her. In fact, recently they started a partnership with a fox in Bunnyburrow. So maybe they wouldn't be against her being in a relationship with one. But she couldn't take that chance.

Her lie wasn't that convincing, though. If anything, her parents were beginning to get suspicious. "Is everything okay, Judy? You're acting odd." Stu said, narrowing his eyes.

Bonnie noticed their daughter's behavior as well, and she didn't care for it one bit. Judy never hid anything from them, not even when she was a teenager. Out of all their kids, she was the only one they didn't have to worry about keeping secrets. But now here she was, acting like she did something wrong.

"Are you hiding something from us?" She asked, with a small hint of hurt in her tone.

Judy immediately shook her head, "No! No, of course not! I just don't think it's necessary for you to drop everything to come over here. I— I'm doing just fine by myself, trust me."

"It's a little hard to do that right now," Stu said, crossing his arms. "you're acting just like your brother did when we found out why he was taking so long in the shower."

Judy grimaced, but then attempted one last time to be convincing. "Mom, Dad, I assure you I have nothing to hide." She raised up her right paw, as if swearing that she wasn't keeping a secret. "I just don't want you to go to any trouble."

"Sweetheart, it's not any trouble if it's you." Bonnie said, sighing afterward. "But fine, if you say nothing's going on, then we believe you. I just don't ever want you to feel like you have to keep secrets from us."

Now Judy felt guilty for trying so hard not to tell them the truth. What kind of daughter was she if she didn't tell them about her boyfriend? She didn't want to be like her other siblings who lied all the time, she wanted a better relationship than that.

She frowned, lowering her head. "Okay fine, there is something I should tell you." She said reluctantly, feeling her heart beating a mile a minute. How was she supposed to tell them something like this? What if they never spoke to her again afterward? What if she was completely cut off from the family forever? It was a worse case scenario, but it was extremely possible. The Hopps' weren't known for fraternizing outside their species. But she loved Nick, and if being with him made her an outcast, then so be it.

Neither of them were surprised, but now they were curious as to what she had to say. "What is it, pumpkin?" Stu asked. "It's okay, you can tell us."

Judy nodded, avoiding direct eye contact with them for now. If this was the last time they'd ever speak to her, she didn't want to see their disgusted or angered expressions. "Okay, um..god, how do I begin?" She asked herself quietly, before clearing her throat to speak up, "So um..I actually do have a roommate."

"Oh, that's it? Well, that's not so bad." Bonnie laughed softly. "Why'd you think you had to hide that? Who is it?"

The next part was going to be hard to say. Judy didn't even know to say it, not without sounding scared or nervous. "Well uh..it's— it's Nick. He's my roommate." She said with an anxious smile, unconsciously scratching her nape.

By now, Bonnie and Stu had an idea as to where this was going. Why else would she feel the need to keep that part a secret? But they didn't want to assume right away, and they wanted to hear it from her. "Okay? And is there a specific reason for that?" Stu asked, raising a brow.

Judy chewed on her lip, nodding once again very slowly. She knew that they knew, but were waiting for her to confess. There was no going back now. Once it was out, it was out. Tears began to fill her eyes as she went on. "Yes, there is." She said, taking a deep breath. "He's my boyfriend."

There was a long moment of silence that followed, which just made Judy feel worse. What were they thinking? Did they hate her now? Or were they just having trouble processing the information? Either way, she hated the quietness. She couldn't tell how they felt and she hated not knowing what was on their minds.

Eventually, Bonnie finally spoke again, in a tone that didn't sound angry nor happy. "How long have you been with him?"

"Almost six months." She answered, clenching her blanket. "I'm sorry I never told you, I know I should have, I just— I didn't want you to freak out o-or hate me. I know it's not right for me to date a fox, or anyone that's not a bunny, and I don't expect you to accept it." She frowned, letting a tear fall. "I just hope that you won't think less of me."

Once again, they didn't say anything right away. They exchanged a glance, which further added to Judy's nerves. She almost wanted to hang up just so she wouldn't have to see what their initial reactions would be. But something inside her told her to wait, and hoped that something good would come from this.

Stu cleared his throat as they both looked back at the screen. "Do you love him?"

Judy was taken aback by his question, but she didn't hesitate to answer with a nod. "Yes, of course. More than anything."

"And are you happy?" Bonnie asked.

Again, she nodded, this time with a gentle grin. "I'm really happy. Nick's the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Then that's all that matters to us." Bonnie smiled.

"W-wait, what? Really? You mean that?" Judy asked, shocked and in awe. Were Bonnie and Stu, the most fox-opposed mammals in existence, really supporting her relationship with Nick?

"Of course, honey. I mean, we understand why you felt like you had to hide it, but that's no reason to think we would hate you. We could never hate you." Her mother said assuringly.

"Just as long as he treats you right." Stu pointed at her knowingly. "I don't want to have to hunt down a predator."

Judy laughed, her tears now that of joy and relief. Now her thoughts of being ostracized by her family seemed crazy. Of course they would never hate her, not for being in love. "Don't worry, you won't." She said to her father, sniffling and wiping her tears. "Thank you guys, you have no idea how much this means to me."

"No need to thank us. We're just glad that's all that was." Stu said, chuckling. "For a minute there, we thought you were about to tell us you joined a gang or something."

"So when can we meet Nick?" Bonnie asked, somewhat excitedly. "Since he's obviously an important part of your life, it would be nice to get to know him sometime."

"Oh uh, I'm not sure." She said, still wiping what was left of her tears from under her eyes. "We can try taking a vacation around the holidays, so maybe then we can come visit."

"That would be nice. Tell him he's always welcome here." Bonnie said.

Stu wrapped an arm around his wife and have his daughter a soft grin, "Alright Jude, we'll let you get some sleep now. Keep us posted, okay?"

Judy smiled as well, letting out a small breath as she felt more relaxed and at ease now. "I will. Goodnight guys, I love you."

"We love you, too." Stu nodded.

"Bless you and keep you safe always." Bonnie said, blowing her a kiss. “Goodnight, sweetie."

As soon as the call ended, Judy flopped back on the bed and sighed heavily. For the first time since the shooting, she released the tension in her body and let herself relax. Now that there were no secrets between her and her parents, she could finally feel some form of comfort knowing that they accepted her for who she was.