#Bruce: *moment of clarity* wait am I the cause of this

[celaenaeiln]

Bruce: *sees a motorcade come up on his right* *ignores*

Timmy in the back eying the group suspiciously: ….

*tapping on glass*

Dick: B, there’s someone tapping on my side.

Bruce: Don’t roll the window down they could be-

Dick: *already rolling the window down* *GASP* ROMMEY?! ROMMEY! ROMMEY!!

A 45 yr old grizzled man with a smoker’s voice, nicknamed Rommey by Dick: heya Dickie, how it’s going kiddo.

Dick: ROMMEY IM SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU AGAIN!

Another motorbiker with a full claw scar down his face: what about the rest of us, kid? Forget about us?

Dick: MANES! DERRICKA! IZZY!!

Derrick-I take down mercenaries for fun but let a kid I like call me DERRICKA-Rolan: You little shit, why’d we not hear from you after you fucked off to neverland huh?!

Isabella-what? Someone went missing? I had nothing to do with it, it’s total coincidence that I hated him-Hodges: Maybe he doesn’t like us, Der. That right, Dickie?

Dick: *flabbergasted* No!! It’s a long story! After I left I ran out of gas and then some girl crashed into my bike and sent it flying off the cliff but I dove off it first and then I had to walk to the nearest motel on bare feet because I gave her my shoes and then I met this half bear half man and I’ll be pleased to tell you that it was a beary bearable encounter once he got his bearings hahahahaha- *progressively climbing out of the car as the story goes on*

Bruce: Dick! Get back in the car! *having one hand on the steering wheel and grabbing the back of his shirt with the other to keep his wayward son from falling out*

Dick: Wait- *accidently twisting too far and nearly braining himself on the speeding asphalt*

Rommey: DICK!

Bruce: DICK!

Rommey, Derricka, Izzy, and Manes: *grabbing the front half to prevent Dick from becoming like two-face*

Bruce: *letting go of the wheel to grab Dick’s bottom half for the same reason*

Tim: *high pitched screaming from the back* DICK! Tₕₑ Wₕₑₑₗ! ₜₕₑ Wₕₑₑₗ!!!

Bruce: *struggling to pull his son in while the motorcade struggles to pull him out to sit on a bike thus leading to Dick hanging in limbo out the window of a car going 80mph on a freeway* GRAB THE WHEEL TIM

Tim: *sacrificing a few ribs on the edge of the front car seat* IM TRYING! I CANT REACH THE CRUISE CONTROL AND DONT LEAN BACK AND OH MY GOD SIGN POST! SIGN POST! THE POST! THE POSSSTTTTT!!!

Dick, Bruce, Tim, and motorcade: *furious screaming and shouting and panicking*

*2 hours later*

*Arriving at the manor*

Jason: damn what happened to you lot, you look like you went through hell and back.

Bruce and Tim: *drained, pale-faced, messy, sweating, and heaving*

Dick: *a curl of hair falling elegantly into his shining eyes* I just had the time of my life, Jay!

Jason who is well acquainted with Dick’s “Time of the life”s: ah. My condolences.

Tim: Never again. *flopping on the ground and cater-pilling his way up the stairs*

Damian: Father, this is such disgraceful attire! Fix yourself at once, mother would be embarrassed by such a visage! What in holy reincarnation have you been doing?!

Bruce: Never again, Dick.

Dick: it’s nothing Dami, they were just helping me.

Damian: Father, I am ashamed of you. Why must you devolve to such a state when you assist Grayson, he is perfectly capable of extraordinary feats without your input. I suggest you refrain from interfering with his success again.

Bruce:

Bruce: Damian, you-

Dick: Bruce. *smiling pleasantly*

Jason: *immediately sneaking off*

Bruce’s life momentarily flashing before his eyes: …..nothing. Go finish your homework. *trudging off to whine to Alfred about how no one’s gonna believe him*

Dick: *sincerely* what a great day! 😊

#Alfred who has heard so many ‘no one is going to believe me about Dick’ conversations on a regular basis and is tired of listening to them: #well sir what did you think would happen when you threw an 8 yr into the Batmobile and gave him full freedom to drive #Bruce: *moment of clarity* wait am I the cause of this #Bruce whose clarity never stays: nah I can’t be the cause of this #Alfred who is used to this conversation too: *sarcastically* ofcourse not sir. not at all #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #red robin #bruce wayne #batman #dicks secret wild adventures catching up to him because no one ever checks in on this loose canon #jason todd #red hood #damian wayne #robin #batfam incorrect quotes #Damian thinks dick can do no wrong ever #if dick ran someone through with a sword he’d merely take notes

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Five: This Will Be The Day (Finale)

Warning: this series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing.

Summary: Everyone has returned but the battle for humanity against Thanos wages on.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You wake in a coughing fit, the rubble surrounding you sears your lungs. “Natasha.” You call into the rocks and flickering lights. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Natasha!”

“Here, I’m here.” Her voice is rough, pained.

You push yourself toward the sound, through the dust you can make out her hair. “You ok?”

“Mostly.” She’s laying face up, a few scratches visible.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I can’t move.” She nods at the piece of collapsed cement. “My leg is broken, you should go.” Nat says, staring up at the sky.

“I should’ve never let you go to Vormir. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You try uselessly to budge the blockage over her leg.

“What is Vormir?” She asks.

“Doesn’t matter.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “How much do you remember?”

“The red room.”

“Do you remember getting out?”

“No one gets out.” She shakes her head.

“We did.” You inform her. “Yelena did.”

“Yelena?” Her gaze finds yours. “You know Yelena? Is she here?”

“Yes, I know her.” You press your lips together. “She’s not here though.”

“The rest of this building is coming down. If you were really trained in the red room you have to know that.” Natasha frowns. “You need to leave.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Don’t be a hero.” She whispers. “Let me go, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not.” You argue. “I won’t do it again.”

“What about Yelena?” Natasha gives you a pointed look.

“She’ll understand.” This is what she would do.

“Hey,” Natasha pushes herself up on her elbows. “Would it be a good thing or a bad thing if a giant man in a metal suit carrying a smaller man and a raccoon appeared behind your head?”

You turn toward the man in question. Scott Lang. “It would be a good thing.”

———————————————————————

Natasha is taken somewhere safe. She can’t fight.

As the strange doctor and his disciples start opening portals you see that you’re not alone. Through one comes Alexei, Melina and Yelena.

Her white suit is pristine, dirty blonde hair held away from her face in ponytails.

On shaky legs you move toward her, taking your rightful place at her side. Facing what lies ahead together.

Yelena catches your hand, “this isn’t much of a welcome home.”

You can’t help but laugh, “pretty cool way to die though.”

“Very,” she agrees. “Natasha?”

“She is a little worse for wear.” You warn her, “but alive…and safe.”

Yelena gives you a watery smile, squeezing your fingers. “And you?”

“A tower fell on me.”

“Of course it did.”

Thanos’ army is nothing to scoff at. Giant airborne creatures hover over his troops. Larger monsters stand in their ranks, space ship overhead ready to destroy.

Steve is almost unrecognizable, covered in dirt, his shield battered and broken. But you know it is time when he gives the order. “Avengers, assemble.”

Fighting is easy, it’s what you know. What you were trained to do. Fight to stay alive, fight for what you believe in, fight with Yelena; for Yelena.

The two of you move together like a well oiled machine. Like riding a bike, even after all this time you could never forget.

“We’ve got company to the left.” Yelena says through gritted teeth, kicking at the alien creature beside her. Dropping an empty cartridge to the ground and reloading her gun seamlessly, firing several shots.

Despite everyone’s best efforts they just keep coming. “Do we have a plan here?”

“Getting there,” Steve replies. “Anybody have eyes on the gauntlet?”

“Yeah!” Clint rushes past you with the glove in hand. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Get it out of here!” Tony insists.

“What’s happening?” Alexei shouts over the chaos. “I still don’t have ear piece.”

“Just keep their army away from that guy in the tank top.” You grunt, falling backwards from the force of one of Thanos’ soldiers colliding with you.

“We have to get the stones back where they came from.” Rhodey reminds everyone.

“The time space tunnel is completely collapsed.” Tony points out.

“That isn’t our only time machine.” Lang cuts in.

“Does anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Captain America’s voice hums through the ear bud.

“I do,” a female voice chimes in. “But you’re not going to like where it’s parked.”

After grappling for far too long, you manage to knock the creature from you. Using your knife to dismember it.

“Next time, we get the cool laser guns.” Yelena yells loud enough to be heard by everyone on the network, as she hauls you to your feet.

“Friday, please add laser guns for the ballerinas to my grocery list.” Stark gives his smart ass remark.

“What’s the word on the van?” Rhodey wonders.

“Working on it now.”

The ship at Thanos’ disposal begins raining fire, no regard for their own troops.

“We’ve got people going down!” Rocket hollers.

“Clint,” you call into the microphone. “How’s that gauntlet?”

“Moving down the field.” The archer replies, “I’m alright too, thanks for asking.”

“Good.” You bite back a smile.

Hell continues breaking loose around you. Glowing circular orbs unfold in the air above, providing coverage from the missiles. You’re not sure if this is winning or losing. It feels like a bit of both.

———————————————————————- Thanos and his army are dusted away. Leaving you surprised and still swinging as the shock wears off.

You won. You. Won.

And you lost.

You lost Tony Stark. The man you’d barely known, but offered you clarity that will stay with you forever.

You lost the Natasha you’d come to know over the five years that Yelena was gone. Some parts of the redhead stripped away for the price of the stone.

But she’s still here. Waiting in the wings to be greeted by Yelena and their little makeshift family. You share a look of understanding when your eyes meet over the blonde’s shoulder.

Others come, Banner refuses to leave her side. Despite the fact that Natasha doesn’t remember him.

Clint falls to the ground at her feet. Breaking down at the sight of his friend, his family alive and well. She doesn’t remember him either, but welcomes him into her arms somewhat awkwardly.

Her expressions flicker from happy to overwhelmed. Hesitant to open herself up to the possibility that she is wanted, needed and loved.

Too confusing for the girl who only remembers the red room. Adjusting to this life will take time.

Everyone begins clearing out, their jobs finished. Rushing home to reunite with their loved ones. Tomorrow will bring about new challenges. The world is in shambles, and so are you.

Steve decides that he should be the one to return the stones. His goodbye tells you that he has a bit more in mind. But this is his life. His choices, not yours.

“Well, I guess we should head out too.” You say after a while. Your car is gone, lost in the wreckage from the explosion.

The setting sun is eclipsed, causing all of you to turn your gaze upwards just in time to see the ship’s door open.

“Is that a raccoon?” Melina asks, pointing toward Rocket.

“Do you want a ride or not?” Rocket shoots back.

“Not the avenger’s super jet, but it will do huh?” Alexei smiles, this is his dream.

“This is better!” A man’s voice carries down from the interior.

“Well,” Yelena shrugs, “if you say so.” She leads the pack up the ramp and onto the ship.

“Fanny and the pigs will be expecting dinner soon.”

“How are they?” Melina asks, “have you been taking care of them.”

“That was me!” Alexei says proudly, bending at the waist to gather Natasha into his arms. “Aye honey,” he grunts, hoisting her up. “You are only little girl in my heart.”

Nat pushes against his chest in retaliation.

“Do you mind if I hitch a ride too?” Clint asks.

“The extra stop will cost you,” Nebula stares blankly at him from her seat.

“They always do.” He remarks, trotting up the ramp.

Bruce paces at the foot of the metal grate, watching the rest of you load up. “I gotta hang back, make sure Steve gets there in one piece.”

“After what happened with Scott the first time I’d say that’s probably the best bet.” You agree, standing near the entrance.

“Yeah,” he smiles, kindly. “Keep me posted on Nat, will ya?”

“I will,” you return the smile.

“I’ll see you around.”

You nod, “I’ll see you.”

The captain of the ship introduces himself as Star-lord, and after a moment without response, Quill.

“Any requests?” He asks, finger hovering over the control panel.

Alexei creeps over to the younger man, quietly relaying a message.

“Alright,” Quill nods. Stroking the keys until a familiar set of notes ring out.

“A long, long time ago-“ The singer croons.

You let out a chuckle.

“I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance. And maybe they'd be happy for a while.”

“We’re really doing this?” Yelena puts a hand to her head, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

“But February made me shiver, with every paper I'd deliver. Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step.” The melody carries on.

“It’s your song.” Natasha turns to her sister.

“I can't remember if I cried. When I read about his widowed bride.” Melina’s eyes are far away, carried back to their years in Ohio. Before the world had been so cruel.

“Something touched me deep inside, the day the music-“

“Died.” Yelena joins in, lulling her head to the side to gage your reaction.

You sigh, all of this beyond surreal. But you allow yourself to live in this moment, because you might not get another. “So bye, bye Miss American Pie…”

“Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.” The roaring chorus of voices fills the silence you’ve grown used to. Fills the parts of you that were empty for so long. “And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye. Singin', “this’ll be the day that I die.”

“This’ll be the day that I die.” Yelena sings, her face alight with a childlike glee.

——————————————————————-

Melina, Natasha and Alexei stay with you for a while. A few weeks as Natasha heals and becomes acclimated to her life.

She claims to hate the attention, but deep down you know she’s full of it.

The Ohio house is bursting at the seams with five adults, nine pigs and one dog.

That isn’t enough to keep visitors at bay. Namely Clint, his wife Laura and their three children.

Things feel a bit off when everyone begins moving out. Alexei, Melina, and their pigs return to the farm outside of Saint Petersburg.

Natasha finds herself drawn to New York, with Bruce and the makeshift building he’s using as a lab.

You adjust to the steady thrum that is daily life, with Fanny and Yelena.

After dinner you load the dishwasher, drying your hands on the nearby tea towel before selecting a cycle.

“So how does it feel?” Yelena asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hmm?” You turn to face her.

“Being a hero.” She clarifies, a smile playing at her lips.

“I’m not-“

“Oh cut the crap, Y/N. You saved the world.” Yelena narrows her eyes at you.

“I did it for you.” You say simply, because it’s true.

Yelena closes the space between you, “why?”

“You know why.” You whisper as she cups your face in her hands, gently stroking her thumb over your cheek. “It’s ok if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“I’d do more for you, and worse.” She assures you. “But do you really want to spend the rest of your life fumbling around feelings in the dark when you could have someone who-“

“I want you. I only ever want you.” You beckon her closer. “Anyway I can have you, that will be enough for me.”

Sometimes wires get crossed and you want things you never have before. And she provides them before you have a chance to ask. You give back to her tenfold, so that neither glass is ever empty. That is love. True love, the only way you’ve ever known it.

“I am yours…in every way a person can belong to another.” Yelena breathes, “and then some.”

Series taglist: @jeyramarie @freeshavocadoooo @ilovewinter101 @3and30aresoultwins @yelenabelovv @miphas-trident @1800-fight-me

If you loved this series as much as I did, you can check out the prequel here!

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #marvel fanfiction #black widow fanfiction #black widow #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x female reader

[dangerousconnoisseurdonut]

Curse of Loki preview (F/F/m)

On AO3, I have a request for a Tickle Fic, something I have toyed with for years, but never had the guts to do until now. I realize tickling isn’t everyone’s kink, but please be kind as this is my first attempt. I am posting a preview here to get a feel if I’m doing this right.

Now, context! Bruce has been sent a horn with Norwegian Runes all over it. What he doesn’t know is that this is the Horn of Loki, the Trickster God and causes... interesting results between the recipient and their enemies. In this case, Bruce and the Rogues of Gotham. After he has blown the horn, he gets the urge to go into the city and winds up at Selina’s flat, not realizing that she has a guest at the minute and... well, here goes nothing.

“Relax, Bruce, I just wanted to lounge around for a change; Tabitha and Barbara got me this on my last birthday. Do you like it?” Selina gave a little pose and Bruce did his best to keep his eyes on her face where they belonged and not drawn to her cleavage which he had never seemed to notice before. It was darker than magenta, somewhere between sangria and mulberry, with pink cherry blossoms scattered on it; it was indeed beautiful, but Bruce was wishing at the moment she had something on underneath as he could see her breasts, including her perky nipples.

“Bruce?” Selina asked with a shit-eating grin as though she had a damn good idea why he hadn’t answered her, causing his blush to deepen as he responded,

“Nice! It’s very, uh, very nice!”

“I think the naughty boy was eyeing your tits, Cat.” Bruce whirled around at the sound of another female, only to find Bridgit Pike waltzing into the room in another bathrobe, this one somewhere between navy and indigo, with white orchids. He was struck by how attractive she was, even with the scars on her face and what he could see of her body; her hair was long, though there was none where her face had been burned, and her smile was one of the, pardon the pun, cat who got the canary. He felt himself harden as he suddenly felt very much like a canary.

“Uh, I’m uh, sorry for interrupting you two, I’ll just, um, I’ll just -” Bruce was shocked when Bridgit grabs the lapel of his jacket and pulls him to her so she can kiss him. As he and Bridgit make-out, he feels Selina grab his jacket and pull it off of him. Bruce however gets a moment of clarity and pulls away as Selina pulls his button up partially off, ripping a few of the buttons off and trapping his arms in the sleeves.

“W-wait a minute, what are y-you -?” Bruce just about jumped out of his skin when Selina dug her fingers into his underarms, causing him to almost bite his tongue off as he fought not to laugh.

“Naughty boys need to be punished, but we don’t want to hurt you so, Selina and I think you need a good laugh; not to sound like Jerome, but you are way too serious.” Bridgit explains as she lightly runs her fingers over his ribs. Bruce doesn’t say anything, knowing the minute he opens his mouth he’ll start laughing and won’t be able to stop. He hadn’t been tickled since he was seven, and he had forgotten how much he hated it. Selina and Bridgit start leading him to Selina’s bed, digging their fingers into his ribs or underarms when he tries to struggle. Bruce is almost crying from the exertion it’s taking to not laugh. When it comes time to get him on the bed, they move quickly to get Bruce’s arms out from the shirt, and tied down using some scarves. For his legs, Bridgit sits on Bruce’s stomach and switches between his underarms and stomach, not letting him get used to either sensation as Selina wrestles him out of his shoes, pants, underwear, and socks before tying his legs down. Bridgit stopped for a moment, enjoying seeing Bruce struggle to contain his laughter, as Selina went to get something.

“P-please Bridgit, I, I’m sorry I looked at Selina’s breasts; you’re both so pretty I couldn’t help it, but I’m so sorry for being a pervert and -mmph!” Bruce was cut off as Bridgit again kissed him, and he moaned a little as she played with his nipples before Selina came back.

“Starting without me?”

“I’ve never seen a guy apologize so much for sneaking a peak at a boob before.” Bridgit explained as she petted Bruce’s locks, something he actually seemed to enjoy.

“I told you; he’s an odd one but can actually be kind of sweet, like a puppy.” Selina said as she resumed her position at his feet, making him worry about what she planned to do.

“Well, even cute puppies have to be disciplined when they do something naughty, but since he seems so sincere with his apology, I think we can give him a little reward afterwards.” Bruce went to beg again, only for Bridgit to lightly trail her fingers up to his underarms, prompting him to keep his mouth shut and bite his lips.

“Gotta warn you handsome; we won’t stop until we hear you laugh. Why not make it easy on yourself and just let it out?” Bruce shook his head, causing Bridgit to sigh before smirking as she dug her fingers into his underarms and Selina tickled his thighs, a place he didn’t even think was ticklish but Selina just had to prove him wrong. He giggled, chortled, and snorted behind closed lips, but still refused to out and out laugh, even when Bridgit switched to his stomach and Selina tickled his knees (seriously, knees could be a ticklish spot?). Though, when one of Bridgit’s fingers got close to his navel, he almost lost control, though sadly he knew Bridgit had seen it for what it was when she got a wicked gleam in her eyes before saying,

“He’s a tough nut to crack, Cat; I think we better up our game.” Selina released a very put-upon sigh as she responded,

“You asked for this Bruce.” Bridgit leaned over as Selina also stopped to get something, though just what Bruce could not see. When Bridgit pulled back, she held what appeared to be a makeup brush, making Bruce wander just what was she going to do with that. He wasn’t allowed to worry about it however as Selina grabbed the toes of his right foot and stretched them back as far as they would go, leaving his arch taut. He got the uneasy feeling he was about to face his Waterloo. Bridgit then leaned down and placed the brush on his stomach and started a slow spiral edging closer and closer to his navel. Soon, it was tracing the navel itself, and Bruce was shaking so bad with suppressed laughter, he thought he was going to pass out. Those soft, silky bristles felt like dragons teeth on his sensitive stomach. Bridget looked him straight in the eye, amber into green, and asked,

“Does our naughty pretty boy have a ticklish belly button?” Before Bruce could confirm or deny, Bridgit dug the makeup brush right into his navel to swirl it around same time as Selina lightly ran her nails up his foot. Actually, to Bruce’s horror, he realized Selina was wearing her gloves with the claws on them, and they were what she was lightly dragging up and down his foot. At the twin sensations, Bruce didn’t stand a chance and finally burst out,

“Hahahaha! P-please s-s-stop! I, I c-can’t t-t-take this!” Bruce hated how he was reduced to stuttering, but the girls were just too good. Selina kept her touch light to make sure her claws didn’t accidentally pierce the skin, but that didn’t make it any less intense as she used one claw to draw nonsensical patterns along his sole, first lines going up and down, then spirals on the ball and heel of his foot, then zig-zags across his arches. Bridgit meanwhile kept switching between the brush and her her finger digging into his navel. Sometimes, just to spice things up, she would use the brush on his navel while digging her fingers into his underarm. Her dual sensations of sharp and soft were driving him up the wall. Once, she even ran the brush over his nipple and as the silky smooth bristles ran along his slightly swollen nub, he didn’t know if he wanted to moan or bite his tongue off.

“You know, Bruce, for a guy who runs around as much as you do, you have really soft feet.” Selina casually remarked before she gave into temptation and ran her tongue up the sole in front of her, enjoying Bruce’s bucking as he almost screamed,

“S-Selina! P-pl-please s-stop! Hahahaha!” Bridgit then found a similar urge over taking her so she leaned down and ran her tongue along Bruce’s underarm, relishing in the squeal Bruce couldn’t hold back as she licked and nipped at the smooth skin there.

“Isn’t Bridgit beautiful, Bruce?” Selina asked before she nipped at his arch and soothed it with her tongue.

“V-v-very b-b-beautiful!” Bruce had started laughing so hard, he was actually crying a bit.

“Why don’t you show her how beautiful you think she is by eating her out?” As though convincing him of the idea, she tickled one sole with her claws and licked the other one, going so far as to take his pinky toe into her mouth and run her tongue all around it.

“A-anything y-you w-w-want!” Bruce was almost convinced he was having an out of body experience from the sensations. He took in a huge breath when they stopped while Bridgit moved to sit on his face, though he was surprised when she turned around so she would be facing Selina.

“If you think I’m going to stop tickling you and making you do that cute little laugh of yours, you’re as nuts as Selina says you are. Besides, this gives me better access to your cute little belly button.” Bruce whimpered before leaning forward to her center; he hadn’t had much practice with this, but he remembered a few drunken fumblings with Grace, and she directed him to what she liked and didn’t like, though this time he was hindered by only having his tongue and he was at the wrong angle to reach her clit. Still, he started by gently licking her inner lips with little nips here and there, and he heard her give a little moan.

“Looks like you haven’t been training your puppy enough Selina; he’s very shy, but seems like he’s -ah!- trying.” Bridgit stroked his hip as she spoke, and Selina smirked as she responded,

“Maybe we should encourage his tongue a bit more by way of example?” ‘Oh no, what now?’ Bruce whimpered before almost dislodging Bridgit when he bucked like a bronco at the feeling of tongues on his most ticklish spots. Selina repeated the action of putting his toes in her mouth and running her tongue and now teeth around them as she dragged her claws along the arch. Bridgit meanwhile leaned down and used her fingers to spider up and down his stomach as she stuck her tongue in his navel and swirled it around before nipping at the skin around it. As he laughed at such intense sensations, Bridgit moaned at the vibrations, causing her own tongue to vibrate in his navel, which made it tickle even more. He wondered about the heat that had started bubbling up in his stomach from all this; was he becoming aroused from being these powerful girls little tickle and sex toy?

#gotham #tickling #bruce wayne #selina kyle #bridgit pike

[tenelkadjowrites]

Tyrant - Chapter Nineteen - batjokes

(this story has been updating regularly on my ao3 but i am uploading it here now as well.)

read on ao3 here.

Summary: Six months after a traumatic night where the Joker attacked Gotham, Bruce finds his life turned upside down once again. When a hijacking goes wrong, Bruce is brought closer to the Joker and finds himself in a game of cat and mouse with the most dangerous criminal in the city. Torn between the strange hold the Joker has over him and being Batman, Bruce grapples with what he wants and what is right.

this story deals with PTSD, depictions of violence, a lot of angst, and will have nsfw sexual content.

previous chapter here.

          Smoke filled the subway tunnels. Bruce turned to the right and was suddenly in Arkham. The smoke poured out of the doors. Joker stood in the middle of the hallway in handcuffs. The police surrounded him.

           “Don’t worry, Batman. This asshole isn’t getting out. We have a special cell for the likes of him.” A guard said. Joker heard, looked up. Something flickered behind his eyes.

           The smoke was growing thicker. He couldn’t breathe. Joker tried to open his mouth to speak but blood poured out. It covered the front of his prison uniform. Bruce took a step forward. Joker fell to his knees. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. Somewhere in the distance, an explosion shook the ground. Bruce couldn’t breathe. Needed to get to him before…

           He jolted awake. Looked around. Relaxed. Realized he was in a limo. It was okay. Bruce focused on his breathing, but his heart was pounding. Jesus, another fucked up dream. He had been dreaming of the Joker every time he fell asleep since the night of the bank explosion a week ago. Every time Bruce closed his eyes, he saw Joker on the pavement, bleeding, disoriented, fragile.

           He didn’t know if Joker had gotten to safety. He imagined he must have, or the police would have picked him up and it would have been major news. But even if Joker was somewhere safe, was he sick? He had inhaled a lot of smoke and injured his bad leg again.

           And why did Bruce care? He saved Joker, made sure he didn’t get arrested, got him oxygen – more than he should have done. If Joker died, it wouldn’t be his fault. He had stopped himself from repeating his mistake from the subway tunnel.

           He understood now what Joker wanted. The explosion, Bruce choking him to death, Joker urging him on…it all made sense. He achieved clarity.

           His phone buzzed, breaking his train of thought. It was Alfred; he had been increasingly concerned for Bruce due to the current events and the bank robbery resulted in him checking up often. Bruce didn’t mind although he hated that he was causing Alfred stress.

           “Master Bruce,” He said in a tone that instantly had him alert, “Are you coming home soon?”

           “Yes. I’m about ten minutes out. Why?”

           “Well, Master Bruce…” He paused for a moment. “He’s here.”

           “What?”

           “He’s here. In the house.”

           Bruce didn’t need an explanation as to who was in Wayne Manor. “Are you okay?”

           “Yes, Master Bruce. He’s in your quarters. Didn’t seem very interested in me. Asked if I could let you know he was here.”

           “Okay. If anything happens…”

           “I don’t think it will, sir.” He said with…a tone of almost amusement in his voice? That couldn’t be possible.

           The call ended. Bruce tried to mentally regroup. The Joker in Wayne Manor. In his house. In his room. Joker had no idea of the bat cave underneath the manor and Bruce wanted to try to keep it that way as long as possible. If anything happened to Alfred…

           After the longest ten minutes of his life, he was home. Scurrying out of the limo, Bruce hurried into the foyer. Alfred was waiting for him. He appeared to be unharmed.

           “Everything okay?”

           “Master Wayne, he is still in your quarters. I believe he is…”

           “What?”

           “Taking a bath, sir.” Ah, that was where the hint of amusement came from.

           Bruce stared at Alfred for a long beat and then took off up the winding staircase. “Master Bruce?”

           He stopped at the top of the stairs, looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be okay.”

           “Yes, sir, that seems to be what you always say.” Alfred replied.

           Bruce frowned for a moment, wondering what to make of that. But he didn’t have time to linger. He nodded at Alfred, relieved he was okay, and went off to his quarters.

           His rooms were located near the back of the manor. He liked the privacy. Of course, Bruce knew that was silly. The manor was empty minus himself and Alfred. But if he hosted any parties or events, he liked being able to take a moment to himself far away from the hustle and bustle. It felt safe.

           With Joker in there, it no longer came off that way.

           Bruce opened the door, expecting the worst…Joker to have trashed the place, perhaps, before going into the bath. But the room appeared untouched. He could hear music playing from the bathroom. Messa da Requiem by Verdi. What a strange selection.

           He rubbed his hands against the front of his suit jacket. Then he thought it would be too formal to show up in the bathroom in a suit he had worn to Wayne Tower. He shrugged out of the jacket, tossed it on the bed. Pulled his shirt from his waist so it wasn’t tucked in. Rolled down his sleeves a little. Wondered what the fuck he was doing.

           Bruce walked down the small hallway to the bathroom. He always told himself he would have a better handle on the situation before he interacted with Joker and he never did. The night of the subway, the kidnapping, getting the Batman confession recorded, stabbing him in the clock tower, the bank explosion…the list was endless and each one flashed against his head as he knocked on the bathroom door and went inside.

           Joker was in the large jacuzzi tub that Bruce hadn’t used in years. He wasn’t one for sinking in the water and being alone with his thoughts. But Joker had the music blasting on the record player. His eyes were closed. The bath was full of bubbles. Way too many bubbles. They were dripping over the edge of the bath onto the marble floor.

           Bruce went over to the record player and lifted the needle. Joker’s eyes flashed opened, settled on him. His lips twisted into a quick smirk. Even in the bath, he had his makeup on. He wore his gloves too.

           “Batsy, took you long enough.” Joker closed his eyes again, settling back into the tub.

           “Why are you here?”

           “Is that how you’re going to greet me after our last encounter?” He pouted for a moment, gesturing to his face. “I’m still healing.” Sure enough, his bottom lip was still split and slightly swollen.

           “Makeup seems to cover the bruises. And I didn’t break your nose.”

           “Not that time, anyway.” Joker’s tone was clipped.

           Bruce ran his fingers through his hair, unsure of what to say. Things felt…awkward. If such a thing was possible. Joker opened his eyes again, looked at him. Studied him.

           “I have something for you.” He announced.

           “Do you?” Bruce deadpanned.

           Joker’s hand went under the bubbles and popped back up a second later. Outstretched towards him, resting on the glove, was the diamond from the bank explosion.

           Bruce stared at it. “Why would I want this?”

           Joker clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth impatiently. “I told you. I didn’t steal this for any other reason than pissing off Sionis. He’s pissed. I don’t need it now.”

           He crossed the bathroom, looked down at Joker. His makeup was running a bit from the heat of the bath water. His hair, a dark messy green, was dripping water. Bruce could see the curve of his neck, the top of his shoulders before the bubbles took over. He swallowed.

           “What am I supposed to do with it?”

           “Return it. Keep it. I don’t care.” He plopped it into Bruce’s hand.

           The diamond sparkled in his hand. The sight of it stirred something in him. He said, “The bank explosion. I get it now.”

           Joker tilted his face to look at Bruce. “Do you?” Tone was neutral. Bruce noticed.

           He slipped the diamond in his pocket. Then he sat down on the floor, leaning back against the wall, opposite Joker so that he could look directly at him from this angle and not be looming. He didn’t want Joker to feel intimidated or on his guard.

           “You were recreating the subway tunnels. If you mimicked what set me off the first time, it could happen again.”

           “And why would I want that, Bats?” Joker’s voice was low, serious.

           “Because you know I don’t kill. And you want me to kill you. For good.”

           The words hung in the air between them. For the first time since the madness started, Bruce felt as if he finally had a conversation he was in control of. Even with Joker bursting in his house and using his tub, this was a topic that he could steer.

           “And it almost worked,” Bruce went on. “The explosion. The senseless loss of life. Your attitude about it. It made me feel that…that rage again. I wanted to hurt you. Just like the night of the subway tunnels. I felt as if I was back there. Reliving it. And you were the cause again.”

           Joker had gone silent. His face was unreadable. Bruce swallowed but didn’t allow himself to waver.

           “When I attacked you in the subway tunnel, when you went limp and looked dead and I couldn’t get you to breathe…that changed something in me. You were right. It was transformative. But not in the way you wanted. It made me realize that no one is untouchable. Everyone can be pushed to the limits or teeter off a ledge. But I saved you. I made sure to do everything I could to bring you back. That’s the difference between us. You revel in your lack of self-control. You want me to join you in it. But I can’t. And I won’t. Even if I fail sometimes.”

           He met Joker’s eyes then and waited for him to speak. There was no noise in the room, as if the world outside ceased to exist. There was just him and the Joker. In some ways, it had always felt like that since the Joker first appeared. Bruce was only now realizing it.

           Joker looked away from him, dragged his fingers across the bubbles. “I think about you all the time, Bruce.”

           He didn’t know how to respond to that.

           “Before I knew who Batman was, I used to wonder what your life was like, what you did when you weren’t ruining my fun, what made you happy or sad. I thought about you more than I have anyone else. It disgusted me.” He fell silent for a few seconds. “Since finding out it was you underneath the suit, I think the same things. What your life is like when I am not around and you’re running your company. If watching your parents die made you decide to dress up as a bat and fly around Gotham. What you do in this giant house alone. If you’ve ever wondered about me when I’m not around.”

           Bruce’s chest was tight. He was picturing Joker’s lips brushing against his neck at the party for some reason. The way he had tugged his hair back to expose his neck. How Bruce had done the same thing to him in the park. The twinge of relief he felt when Joker revealed he knew Bruce was Batman.

           “Hand me a towel and my clothes, won’t you?” Joker shifted gears suddenly, stretching out his hand.

           Bruce, realizing that was going to be the end of the conversation, stood up and handed him a towel. His gloves were shorter than normal tonight and he could see the delicate thin skin of his wrist exposed as he took the towel.

           He reached for Joker’s clothes and stopped. “These are my clothes.”

           “Are they?” Joker asked innocently. “Well, I can hardly leave the bath naked, can I?”

           Bruce thrust the clothes at him, feeling suddenly and weirdly shy at the thought of Joker getting out of the tub. He headed to the door.

           “Don’t run off.” Joker called after him. “I’ll be out soon.”

           His heart thrummed in his chest like a trapped bird. I think about you all the time. The words bounced around in his head.

           I think about you too, Bruce thought silently, more than I understand or want to admit.

#batjokes #batjokes fic #tyrant

[keepcalmandreadfluffinpublic]

Coyote Ugly part 3

A/N: soooooo I know I haven’t finished I hope you’re the last, but this was too good of an idea to not write. ;) This was so long overdue!!!! I’m sorry for such the long wait I made the mistake of grabbing a snack and came back and the whole chapter was deleted :( (the pain I felt). However, to make up for the wait I should be posting the other 2-3 within tonight or tomorrow!! As always I do not own the gif.... credit goes to moviewhorexo :)

Warnings: cussing, more ptsd (may be triggering), angst, things start to build!!

Pairings: Plus! Sized reader x Bucky, Steve x Natasha

Imagine: Running a bar was not ideal in your mind. However being able to invoke complete privacy for your clients was. All you had to do was lie about them and yourself, but what happens when your lies come to the surface and fate takes you on a whole new path? What happens when Earths greatest hero’s force that path?

An annoyed groan left my lips as I looked back at her picture. Her bright (y/e/c) eyes that were sparkling from earlier, now appearing dull through the screen. Her hair dull and lifeless, resembling the emotions held in her face. Her face was hollowed and thin, dark circles apparent under her eyes. I couldn’t wrap my head around how this was the same girl. If anything I would have thought they were twin sisters, and one fell into the wrong crowd. Shaking my head I placed the tablet down and pinched the bridge of my nose. the only thought crossing my mind was, who are you? 

The silence was cut short by the slam of the door opening. I didn't need to open my eyes to know it was Tony. “Are you fucking serious?” he yelled. I turned my head towards Steve who was looking right back at me. Great. “Now Tony before you start a fight-” Stave began to try and defuse the tension building, but Tony wasn’t having it. “I said to drop it! How hard could it be to just drop it? But no you went behind my back and invaded someone’s privacy, might I add a someone I love like a sister!” roaring he stepped further into the room. 

“She lied to you at the party.” I replied flatly

“The fuck did you say?”

“She lied to you, hell all of us back there!” I began feeling my own anger rising. “Tony how well do you know her? I mean there isn’t a shred of paper on her, no one has that little of information on them!” I say standing, while subtly crossing my arms over my chest. The metal turning and shifting was the only thing distracting me from losing control. 

Tony stared at us for a second, before shaking his head. “Friday call a team meeting, NOW!” he said eying both Steve and I. “Right away Mr. Stark. Is the living room ok?” the system responded earning a curt ‘that will do’ from Tony. “You want to know more about her? Well first we’re going to discuss serious matters, before we get to that part Barnes.” Tony fumed, before storming out. I took my chances looking at Steve, he looked just as confused as I was. “Did we just start something?” I questioned hoping he would provide me the clarity I was searching for. Steve stood there for a second before looking at me. “All I have to say is she better be worth what Tony is about to do, because Nat will freak if we did this without a good reason Buck.” was all he said before following Tony. Shit. 

The living room was in full chaos by the time Steve and I arrived. Wanda and Vision were arguing with Clint and Thor over what this ‘meeting’ would be about. Loki sat across from Natasha and Bruce who looked focused in their own conversation. Sam sat in his love seat with popcorn. He was smiling like a kid on Christmas. Tony was in the front setting up the screen. I felt out of place, don’t get me wrong I love the team (well most of them). But right now I felt like a fish in a shark tank and I was about to meet a very slow death. Steve strolled over to Natasha, who upon seeing him smiled. “What the hell is going on?” she asked watching Steve for any sort of hint. He looked down at her and smiled. “I guess we’re about to find out soon.” was all he said before joining her on the couch. I took my chances on the wall behind Loki, who seeing me knew this was going to more of a scolding then a meeting. “What did you do now Barnes?” he harsly whispered, with a smug smirk on his face. I just rolled my eyes and stayed on the wall. 

“Well now that we are all here.” Tony began, “I want to bring something to everyone’s attention.” he paused and scanned the room. No one moved an inch, but stared back at him confused as to what this was all about. “Invasion of privacy is a big deal! Now I know I’ve dealt in invading people’s privacy, but I want all of you to know right now. If you are going to try and dig information on anyone without my knowledge. Do not use my resources, I will not permit anything of the sorts. Now why is this relevant Tony? I’ll tell you why. Wanda put your hand down.” he snapped. 

Wanda taken by surprise lowered her hand and waited for him to continue. “Now as you all know I have very few people in my life who are dear to me!  People who are like family, besides all of you. I take it very personal when I let some of you meet someone close to my heart and for you to try and invade their privacy.” he stopped again, eying Steve and I. This caught everyone’s attention, causing me to shift my weight between my feet. “So I have decided to tell all of you about this special person and some general information, and I hope this will end curios minds from continuing their search.” Tony stated before tapping the screen. Her picture appeared replacing the once black screen. Her eyes still as emotionless as they were before. I couldn’t keep my gaze off of her. 

“This is my ‘adoptive’ sister Lea Black. She is 23 years old and owns her own Business, Coyote Ugly. This picture was taken 3 years ago when I first met her. She is my family and frankly I could use some. Here.” he said tapping the screen again. “is her today.” The image was completely opposite from the previous one. Your (y/h/c) shone brightly in the sunlight. Your delicate (y/e/c) eyes were squinted just a bit from your smile. Your eyes alone held so many emotions and life in them, I felt myself getting lost within them. Forcing my gaze from your eyes your smile welcomed me like a warm summer day. It was effortless and raw, truly beautiful. You were standing in the middle of a sunflower field with a bright yellow dress on. You looked content and at peace. 

“Now like I said she does own Coyote Ugly, a few of use have had the pleasure of being clients there, but if I find out that there is anymore invading her privacy there will be hell to pay.” as he finished everyone slowly looked around the suddenly to small of a room. There was a brief silence before Sam’s voice broke through. “So that’s why y’all were in a hurry to get back.” he stated throwing more popcorn into his mouth. “What does he mean by that Steve?” Wanda asked knowing no one was gonna let her in their minds. Steve lowered his hands into his hands, releasing a long sigh. “Well I-” but before he could continue I interrupted him. 

“I was the one who invaded both Lea’s and Tony’s privacy. She said something back at the club and I caught her in a lie. I forced steve to help me and againsts his better judgment he helped because he is my best friend. I am sorry Tony for doing what I did, but I will not apologize for trying to find the truth. There is something more you won’t tell us about her and I’ll be damned if I don’t figure it out.” I said my voice slowly lacing with venom as I spoke. Before anyone could say anything else, I stormed out of the room. Leaving them all in confusion and my head swarming with questions. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How could I have been so foolish? I let a dry laugh pass my lips. How did he find me? Why hasn’t he come for me directly, Brock wasn’t a patient man, what’s his game?  Releasing a frustrated groan I stand up, deciding it was best if I left my home for a bit. Maybe going to see Maci would help. I glance at the clock seeing it was only 11 am, I normally would be getting up at this time, but I haven’t slept at all last night.

 I tossed and turned before caving in on the fact I wasn’t going to be getting any sleep. I spent most of the night sitting on my balcony embracing nature’s tranquility; while silently wishing I was as peaceful. The moon shone high above me, almost proudly. And with every pass of the night breeze sent a shiver up my spine causing me to nestle further into my blankets. My mind soon wandered over when I was little and everything was so simple. But simplicity is a luxury only few can afford. Around dawn I made my way inside for some coffee before resuming my silent contempt. Living a life mine, caffeine was the only consistent thing in it, besides Maci and Tony. The sun rose emitting soft orange hues, making the almost pitch black night turn into a shade of vivid lilac and pink. 

At that moment I wished for once time would freeze and let me relish this a few seconds longer, but all good things must come to an end. I finally made my way back inside, and began pacing back and forth once more; leaving a permanent trail in its wake. I don’t remember when I had decided to take a shower, only when did the scalding hot water hit my skin did my overly tense muscles relax. I stayed there for well over an hour trying to escape my reality. But all to soon the familiar worrying and unsettling feelings started creeping back in. 

Forcing me back to reality. I proceeded to get ready in an almost dazed like trance. I hadn’t even realize I was downstairs till I was grabbing my keys. The drive was around 15 minutes, surprisingly short for New York traffic. Maci had been by my side since we were little. She knew everything about my past and still stayed with me. I didn’t knock when I reached her house, using the key she made me I opened the door. I began to shrug myself up the stairs and slowly make my way to her room. 

I noiselessly open her door, her room was barely lit. Her shades were almost drawn closed allowing the only light to enter from their small cracks. I quietly made my way to my side of the bed, before taking off my shoes. Double checking for any one night stand stragglers, before easing under the covers. Minutes passed and the only sound in the room was her soft snores. Slowly I positioned myself to face her, while trying to make sure she didn’t wake up. “Don’t be quiet on my account. I heard you when you opened the front door dumbass.” she said in a airy laugh. I laughed as well party at her response and the other out of relief. I hate silence. “I was trying to be considerate moody Judy. What’s got you so cranky?” I ask genuinely curious. Maci is normally and angel when she wakes up. “I met tequila, and tequila knocked me on my ass.” was all she said before we were taken by a fit of giggles. 

Maci got out the bed with an urgent need to go pee. She left me still silently shaking my head and laughing. She wasn’t gone long as soon enough we were facing each other again. “What’s bothering you gorgeous. Normally you don’t come over here till after lunch. And I can practically hear your thoughts turning around in there.” she said tapping me lighting on the head. I pursed my lips not know where to begin, and eventually giving up while rolling onto my back. I let out a long frustrated groan while my arms covered my face. “I don’t know if that was angry frustrated or sexually frustrated, but I will gladly help with either.” 

Maci said earning a heartfelt laugh from me. Maci was something else, and the complete opposite of me. She was 5′7, thin and toned in all the right places. She had long blonde hair that fell to her low back and sparkling green eyes. She was the equivalent of sex on legs, she slept with anyone and everyone. No matter size, gender, or sexuality. Not only that but she was extremely intelligent and witty, maybe that is why Shield hired her.

“Definitely angry frustrated, but I’ll let you know about the other.” I said jokingly. she said something along the lines of ‘you better’, but I was still too busy laughing. She got out of bed to put her hair up as she waited for me to talk. “Y/n? What’s wrong?” she persisted standing in front of the bed. I sat up running my hands through my hair. “Yesterday there were a couple of kids who snuck into the club. Nothing out of the ordinary until we started to interrogate them. Someone had paid them to sneak into the club. Me being curious as to why kept persisting on the topic.” I said before pausing to release a sigh. I looked down at my hands before meeting her waiting gaze. “Well one of the kids, she said he paid them to come and find out if there was a y/n y/l/n there. I was stunned because only a few people know my real name M. So against my better judgement I asked who sent them. A-an-and she said he was a man who went by the name of Brock.” I finished looking at my best friend. 

Minutes of silence passed between us before Maci spoke again. Her gaze was fixed on the wall behind me.  “Fucking bastard will wish he was dead, before I ever get the chance to find him.” she fumed catching me off guard. “M I don’t know what to do. I can’t stop living my life, and so far there has been no more contact attempts.” I said her stare was hard and cold, before softening when she looked at me. “You know I will have to tell Fury Y/n... I would much rather you be safe than in the hands of that bastard again.” she replied softly while sitting next to me. I let her words sink in for a moment, while trying to come up with some answer. 

“Then tell Fury. I was foolish to think I could out run my past...” I said while the memories clawed their way back into my mind. 

“Come now it’s not that bad see?!” Brock said while bringing the needle too close for comfort. I flinched back only to earn a hard slap on my left cheek. The room he held me in was white, but not the pretty, pure white. No this white was dirty almost yellow, close to turning brown. The lights were bright as if knowing they were going to burn themselves into my memory. I didn’t know what I had done to deserve this. I stopped fighting him a long time ago, so why did he keep treating me this way? His hand came around to my arm, jerking harshly for me to move. When I didn’t move fast enough he dug his nails deeper into my delicate flesh, causing me to bite down on my tongue. Tears brimmed my eyes, while metallic filled my mouth. He led me down hallway after hallway, my tears causing me to trip earning more punches or kicks, whatever Brock felt like doing. When we reached the last hallway there was only one door at the end of it. It was all black and metal by the way the light reflected off of the steel. And as if to make it worse there was a large red x painted in the center of the door, making a shiver dance up my spine. My head was pounding and I began to think this is how I will die. I began to feel betrayed, betrayed by my family for abandoning me the way they did, betrayed by my brain for it won’t cooperate with my body, and lastly betrayed by heart for ever being able to love a man like Brock; and worse of all for still loving him. He released my arm to start unlocking the door, and my body came alive. I had a minute tops to start my escape and if I were to die, well I’ll be damned if I don’t go down with a fight. I turned on my heels and sprinted down the hallway. My blood felt like it was going a billion miles an hour, my ears were ringing, and natural instinct took control. I rounded the first corner and kept going, I heard the footsteps getting closer, but I kept pushing. As I went to round my 3rd corner a hand grasped my hair and flung me back, forcing me to land on my back and head. The air that once fueled my lungs to escape completely vanished and I was left a coughing mess. My head began spinning as all the blood rushed to the injury. Brock came into view and leaned over my body. He swayed his finger in a ‘no’ motion while tutting at me. “Now sweetheart, why’d you go and get yourself hurt like that? I haven’t even shown you my surprise yet and here we are with you hurting yourself again.” he said with a dark smile. I gasped for a few more minutes trying to gain the strength to crush his heart like he did mine over and over again. “I-I-I” I stopped to inhale a breathe, my breathe coming back to me. he leaned forward before grabbing my hair and pulling my face close to his, our lips no more than a hair apart. “What was that?” he asked a scowl forming on his once handsome face. The face I used to trace and love with every fiber of my being. “I-I-I was going to sa-y... I’m not your swee-eetheart no more!” I said before spitting in his face. His eyes clouded with fury I have grown to know all too well. He dropped my face and stood up motioning for whoever that was coming to wait. “We’ll see about that Y/n...” was all he said before I felt the feeling of his foot kicking my face and everything went black. 

It tooks me a while to remember I was at Maci’s and not at that horrific place. My breaths came out uneven and short. “Y/n? I need you to breathe okay? You are having a panic attack, hands over your head. What are your favorite things in the world?” Maci asked kneeling in front of me. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to cry. “Y-yo-you....” I paused to raise my hands over my head to allow myself better access to breathe. After a few seconds I got a deep breathe allowing me to continue. “To-ony.. m-y job... a-and.” I paused again finally getting my breathing to return back to normal. I slowly lowered my hands and looked at Maci. “And cake.” I said with a small smile. “There ya go. See, you are ok? Now how about we get that cake and a stronger concealer for your dark circles.” she said with a smile. I laughed before pushing her slightly. “Hey!” I laughed getting up and slipping on my shoes. “Well babe I don’t ever hide the truth and the truth right now is we need food in our bellies! And some new makeup!” She said before throwing her hair into a messy bun. I gazed at her for a second, before glancing at her full length mirror. “Ooo God! You’re right, I look like a racoon.” I said laughing followed by a very loud ‘mhm’. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags: They are open so if you want to be tagged when a new part comes out just let me know :) @mccloudchloe​, @buckysthing​

#bucky x plus size reader #bucky x you #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #steve x natasha #Avengers #tony stark #fate #love #sam wilson #lies #james barnes

[lovelykhaleesiii]

I Understand...(Part 13)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader

Words: 1621

Summary: You’re the daughter of Tony Stark, and after meeting the Avengers for the first time, you begin to fall for the one who your father despises most...Bucky Barnes.

Warning: pregnancy, angst, swearing, family conflict, short time jump (***)

Tags:

@fandom--0verdose , @m4shtyx , @impalatobakerstreet , @dreams-in-blxck , @irondadandspidersoncute , @basicmarvelbitch , @tonyystarkle , @woman-of-letters-legacy , @seabasstiantrash , @can-you-actuallynot , @conflictedintima , @wtfholland , @ivartheblessed , @iamaunicorn4704 , @bookgirlunicorn 

_____________________________________________

Since revealing to most of the Avengers the news of your pregnancy, everyone including Bucky remained joyfully overwhelmed. Excited that a new, little member would be running around these halls soon enough: all were excited, except for Tony who still had remained unaware of the arrival of his own grandchild. It had been days since Tony left for a business convention, although he was due to arrive this late evening. You knew time was running thin until you’d start showing, your belly was just ever so slightly beginning to protrude. You knew it be best for Tony to have heard the news from you before anyone else, hoping this would divert him away from having any outbursts against you or Bucky.

“Baby, just know that it’ll be us two telling your father, I don’t want you to do it all yourself. I don’t care how much it burns him to see us in a room together, I want him to know that I never want to part from you and the baby.” Bucky sincerely whispered, as you both remained in bed, embraced in each others arms, whilst watching television. Since the morning, he’d sensed that you were growing nervous by each passing minute, and he felt completely helpless, having tried many times to settle your nerves, even though nothing seemed to lessen your growing concerns.

“Bucky, I think it’ll be best if I just-”

“No, I’m not gonna let you discuss matters about our baby, alone… We’re both going to be responsible and we’re both going to tell him, together. That’s final.” He exclaimed, as he stared rested upon your head that was leaning against his buff chest. Your gaze, however remained on your hands that fiddled against the soft material of your dress. A shy sense of relief, although, had rushed over your as a slight weight had lifted off your shoulders, understanding now that Bucky would remain by your side, even if he’d be the one to cop the consequences.

“Thank you, Bucky” you simply replied, as you felt his hand tenderly cupped your face, directing your attention towards him, as he pecked your forehead. His hand then moved from your cheek and onto your stomach, as he began to gently rub in circular motions, as though trying to comfort his unborn child.

***

Both you and Bucky had decided to await for Tony’s arrival in the lounge, only to be greeted by the rest of the team. They’d arrive to simply provide moral support, as Bruce said, before you’d both set off to tell Tony the news.

“Look no matter what happens, so long as you two are together, and Y/n and the baby are in a safe, healthy condition, that’s all that really matters. Forget about Tony for now, he’ll come around to it soon enough, he needs to...It’s his own grandchild.” Steve had stated, as he pat against Bucky’s broad back, in an attempt to ease both your impatience.

“We’ll even be here to support you both. We’ll all try to convince Tony, we’ll all try to make him understand that this isn’t something he should miss out on.” Wanda’s heartfelt words, consoling you two.

With the Avengers all turned and focused onto you two, with you resting your forehead against the palm of your hand, and Bucky leaning against the couch, no one had realised Tony’s expected arrival alongside Rhodey and Happy.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Tony retorted, feeling somewhat displeased by the absence of a welcome.

“Dad!” you warmly shout, as you jump up to embrace him in a hug.

This unexpected sign of affection had thrown Tony completely off, having been so distant with each other over the past month… As your grip tightened against him, you were content that he didn’t try to release himself from you, although instead he’d returned the favour.

“It’s good to see you again, sweetie…” Tony silently whispered against your ear, his tone empathetic, as though trying to seek for forgiveness.

Releasing your grip, you soon moved to finally face your father directly, unaware of how much you’d grown to miss him…

“Dad, we need to talk...privately” you insisted, looking at both Happy and Rhodey who soon understood the signal to join the rest of the crew.

“But not here” you added, knowing well that Tony would need some space to handle the news that Bucky and you would deliver.

“We’ll head into my office” Tony assured, encouraging you to lead the way in, unaware that you’d signalled Bucky to join.

Until having set himself leaning against his desk, had Tony realised that Bucky was present also and it completely triggered his mood to grow unpleasant.

“What the hell are you doing here, Barnes?” Tony angrily retorted as he took firm steps closer to Bucky.

“Dad, Bucky and I, we both have something incredible to tell you…” You reassured Tony, intervening in front of him before he could reach Bucky, who remained close by to the door. Tony’s gaze falling upon you, him noticing your face glowing with hope.

“Tony, I know this isn’t how you would have wanted this to be...And I know you still despise Bucky, but I know you. And I know you’ll come to understand that I love him...Just as much as he loves me, and that you’re going to love our child, just as much as we do.” You utter, your heartening gaze moving from Bucky to Tony.

“Your what?” Tony whispered, his eyes concerningly widening.

“Tony, I’m pregnant…” You whisper: your hands immediately reaching for Tony’s as you gripped them tightly, awaiting for the same moment of affection you two had shared just minutes ago.

Silence was all that occupied the room, as both Bucky and you awaited for a single response from Tony.

“And Tony-” Bucky had encouragingly interrupted, “You don’t need to worry about Y/n being alone or in danger, or anything of that kind. I swear by it, I’ll be with her through it all. We both were also hoping very much, that you too, would be part of your grandchild’s life.” Bucky supportively added, as he approached closer to the two of you, your eyes glued onto Tony, who merely remained perplexed by Bucky’s words.

“Dad, say something...This has been killing us both all day to tell you. Just give us something.” You retorted. Your hands remained firmly gripping his, as your eagerness intensifyed by the second, awaiting for Tony to speak.

He began to shake his head, his stare falling from your eyes to the floor...You could feel every inch of your heart falling from your chest, as your grip began to loosen.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me, Y/n…”

“Dad, I-”

“And with him?!” Tony had angrily bursted. His tone growing even louder and more aggravated, causing you to take a step back. You felt Bucky’s hand clasping onto your wrist, as though preparing to push you away defensively, if Tony was to physically retaliate.

“How could I have been so blind! To have not seen that you...My own fucking daughter, was going behind my back, sleeping with some guy that murdered your own family...You did this to your own father. For fuck sake!” At this point, Tony had raised his voice loud enough for the others outside to hear with great clarity. You remained close to Bucky, profoundly afraid of your father’s outburst. You’d never seen him with such rage, never could have imagined him having such resentment towards you.

“You’re a fucking disappointment…” He retorted, as he began to cynically chuckle. Walking over to his bar, he began fixing himself a scotch presuming it would calm his senses.

“That’s enough Tony-” Bucky sternly intervened, knowing well enough that your feelings had completely been obstructed by the severity of Tony’s words.

“You stay the fuck out of this, Barnes… You know just exactly how I feel about you. So were you just taking advantage of my daughter, to get back at me, huh?”

“You’d believe that Tony? I’ve made it very clear how sorry I am, about what I did. I did my fair share of apologising...But for you to ever think I’d take advantage of the only thing that I’ve ever grown to love since I could remember… That’s even low for the great Tony Stark.” Bucky aggressively retaliated, having enclosed the distance between him and Tony, blocking you completely from Tony’s cruel demeanour.

Tony had no more to say, Bucky words had silenced him into a train of thought. You couldn’t help though, but feel proud that he’d stood up against Tony like that, even if it meant that he’d severe his ties with him more than it had been. Soon enough, Tony’s sulken gaze fell onto you, and it had just hit him that the tears you’d held back, could no longer strain any more, and had begun to fall past your cheeks.

Bucky walking towards you had grabbed your hand, encouraging you to leave with him, which you did. Before he’d even fully opened the door, you both had stopped in your tracks, staring into each other for comfort and ease, as Tony’s voice finally found sound again.

“If you leave with him, Y/n...Just-Just know, that this is no longer your home, and that you’ll-You’ll  be losing me in the process, as well.” Tony stuttered, his tone evident that he too was restraining himself from breaking down.

Your sadden gaze remained on Bucky, as your tightening grip had signalled for him to lead you out. You knew leaving your own father was shameful, although the exploitation and backlash you’d received unlike ever before, left you no choice though to live a life with Bucky. Only time would tell, if Tony would ever come around to understand...

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x reade #bucky barnes x stark!reader #white wolf #winter soldier #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier fanfic #wintersoldier #winter soldier fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fandom #marvel #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #avengers fanfic #avengers fanfiction #avengers fluff #maverl fluff #imagines #imagine

[theintuitivewildflower]

Seven Events One May Experience When Choosing to Pursue a Calling

Soul Awakening Series

SEVEN EVENTS ONE MAY EXPERIENCE WHEN CHOOSING TO PURSUE A CALLING

Soul Awakening Series

I want to speak from my heart and ask; have you opened the door to your soul purpose? 

Is there a hurt you haven’t healed and you wonder why you keep hurting other people in your attempts to move on?

Hurt people hurt people, this is fact! There are so many of us wandering around in victim mentality! We ALL have these thorns we walk around with; the hurt, the pain, the guilt, the shame and all those things we try to keep low profile, beneath the surface! 

Then we go out and live life and expect no one to bump into our thorns because they hurt!!! HEALING, MY FRIENDS, IS DECIDING TO TAKE THE THORNS OUT SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THOSE BUMPS THAT CAUSE YOUR PAIN TO BEGIN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN!!

Healing involves reopening old wounds, yes!! However, it’s a once and for all type of strategy! It is so worth it! Today I ask you this.....................

IT IS TIME TO DECIDE!! COMPLACENCY OR CLARITY?

It is no life wandering around warning people by saying something like...”Hey, watch out, I have a thorn there! Don’t touch it!!” or “Don’t go there with me”

WELL, I’M GOING THERE!

 I CHALLENGE YOU TO REOPEN THAT WOUND YOU DIDN’T LET FULLY HEAL; IT’S TIME TO REMOVE YOUR THORNS!!!

Just before my second dark night of the soul experience began, this past December 2017, I picked up a book that I’d read years ago to, reread it. I believe very much in synchronicity signs and I like to think that me coming across this book just before my life began imploding on itself again, was a synchronicity sign; God and Universe collaborating to get me prepared for bumps in the road and to keep focused on the end goal of fulfilling my purpose. 

 In ‘The Dream Giver’ by Bruce Wilkinson, the main character “Ordinary” leaves the land of familiar to follow his dreams. Along the way he experiences many obstacles, naysayers, fear and then a dark night process in which he faces and  encounters bullies, giants and the feelings of self-doubt along the way. He also finally takes some time to be quiet and have a one on one with God when he finally realizes his purpose is more important than the fear or the pain felt while pursuing his calling! Ordinary was meant to be extraordinary!!

I quickly realized that this is the story of one’s awakening to their purpose as I read the book for the second time over a decade after the first read.  I am  remembering points from the first time I had read the book, pre-awakening, about 11 years ago. This time, post-awakening, I recognized “Ordinary’s” struggles, fears, pain, and one on one with God; as his dark night of the soul! That is really what a dark night of the soul is; your one on one with Source, God, your higher power, higher self, God-within; whatever you call it, it’s all the same thing. 

The author discusses the fact that throughout the Bible there is a pattern that is repeated when one answers their calling. You can get this best seller on amazon of course. Here is the link to their library of self-development books and audios! http://amzn.to/2G3WKRp

“In almost every instance they:

1.Become aware of a personal Dream or calling, then decide to pursue it.(Awakening to a calling, longing or purpose!)

2.Face fear as they leave a place of comfort.(Pushing self to the limits, major personal growth)

3. Encounter opposition from those around them. (Bullies, judgmental family/friends/associates, animosity)

4. Endure a season of difficulty that tests their faith. (Dark night of the soul, friends fall off, overwhelmed, fear, having to take ownership and accountability of mistakes, hurts and own role in wrong turns taken.)

5. Learn the importance of surrender and consecration to God. (learn to be still and listen)

6. giants that stand before them and the fulfillment of their dreams.(naysayers, haters, family, fake or fair weather friends, animosity...)

7. Reach their full potential as they achieve their Dream and bring honor to God. ……not to block our Dream but to help us break through to the fulfillment God promises.

Notice in the patterns above, what you must face before you ever complete your journey. 

When you embrace your purpose you can expect opposition, fear, difficulties, bullies,having to surrender, a fight against your personal giants; this is your dark night. I know first hand that when you mention “ awakening” and people look at you cross-eyed or start calling you names like granola or star child; this fear of what other’s think is often the reason people reject their own calling. They want to be perceived as normal! 

********note to self********forget about being normal! Your calling is ONLY going to feel normal to YOU! It’s your calling! YOU were made for it AND furthermore, 

If you meet with your dark night of the soul experience try to remember it’s a process and you are being sharpened for battle, refined. You are being set up for a major comeback, a break through and blessings. This is your time to BE STILL AND KNOW THAT YOU ARE NOT ALONE! THIS IS YOUR ONE ON ONE CONVERSATION WITH GOD! BE PRESENT IN THAT MOMENT AND LISTEN. IF YOU CAN PUSH THROUGH YOUR FEAR AND EMBRACE THIS PART OF THE PROCESS; YOU WILL GAIN CLARITY YOU NEVER THOUGHT POSSIBLE! SOLUTIONS, SYNCHRONICITY AND SIGNS WILL BECOME APPARENT AND LET YOU KNOW YOU ARE ON THE RIGHT PATH, KEEP GOING! 

ONCE YOU EMBRACE RATHER THAN RESIST THE AWAKENING PROCESS; INCLUDING THESE DARK NIGHTS OF THE SOUL MOMENTS, IT WILL NO LONGER MATTER WHAT PEOPLE SAY, WHAT PEOPLE THINK OR WHAT PEOPLE PERCEIVE YOU TO BE! 

Why?

It’s hard work! Work only you can appreciate because it involves a calling unique only to you! You endured pain to get where you are! You reopened old hurts and wounds and did the personal growth work it takes to know who you are at your core! You triumphed over your tribulations! You evolved and you learned to love yourself! You learned to protect your energy, detoxify and de-clutter your life. You may even have been judged for choosing to pursue a dream, your purpose or calling but YOU, YOU PERSEVERED. 

Even though the process of  spiritually awakening was uncomfortable you saw enough worth in yourself to step out of the box of “normal” and create your own angles that are aligned with your soul purpose; what you were born to do! YOU OPENED THE DOOR TO YOUR SOUL! A DOOR MOST KEEP LOCKED UP TIGHT BECAUSE COMPLACENCY FEELS BETTER THAN BEING UNCOMFORTABLE! 

JUST BE YOU! BE TRUE AND BLOOM WHERE YOU ARE PLANTED! THE DARK NIGHT CAN HAVE YOU FEELING LIKE YOU ARE BEING BURIED BUT IN FACT LOVELY, YOU HAVE BEEN PLANTED! PURPOSE HAS BEEN BORN FROM YOUR PAIN! EVERYTHING YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED UP TO NOW HAS PREPARED YOU FOR THIS! 

 I was just beginning my awakening process; still thinking it’s all rainbows and light! It was a lesson learned when I realized that there was some darkness to deal with in the process too! Here came my first dark night and it had me looking like this.....

I was clueless and thought my world was spinning out of control! However, what I realize now is this;

I’M ONE OF THOSE STUBBORN GALS WHO HAS TO FIND OUR FOR HERSELF WHAT IS WHAT! I REJECTED THIS PROCESS BECAUSE IT HURT AND AS I MENTIONED BEFORE; IF WE DON’T MASTER A LESSON WHEN IT COMES OUR WAY, IT DOES COME BACK AROUND AGAIN, UNTIL WE DO! 

Therefore, my dark night was extreme! Universe kind of smacked me in the face with all the shit I needed to own up to and all the thorns in my side that I was refusing to remove! One of the reasons I share about this process is because I want people to choose their calling before they get smacked in the face with it and so no one waits as long as I did to listen to that voice inside that says we are made for more! WE ARE MADE FOR MORE!!

IN ADDITION, CARL JUNG , MY FAVORITE ANAYLYTICAL PSYCHOLOGIST BELIEVED THAT:

“WHAT WE RESIST, PERSISTS.” A PURPOSE AND CALLING IS THAT WAY, IT PERSISTS IN THE FORM OF THAT LONGING FOR THE MISSING PIECE!! RESIST YOUR AWAKENING AND DARK NIGHT PROCESS FOR TOO LONG AND GOD AND UNIVERSE WILL COLLABORATE AND SMACK YOU IN THE FACE WITH IT, ROPE YOU IN LIKE A CALF IN THE RODEO THEN, SIT YOU DOWN AND SHOW YOU WHAT IS WHAT! 

YOU REALLY CAN’T RUN FROM YOUR CALLING; IT BELONGS TO YOU ALONE! 

SO JUST LISTEN!! THE BEST ANSWERS ARE OFTEN HEARD IN SILENCE.

  IT’S TIME TO DITCH THE VICTIM MENTALITY. IT’S TIME TO EMPOWER YOURSELF AND HEAL! IT IS TIME YOU BECAME THE VICTOR INSTEAD OF THE VICTIM! IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO BEGIN THRIVING INSTEAD OF MERELY SURVIVING! ARE YOU READY TO REMOVE THE THORNS YET??

Living in and losing myself to a 6 year toxic relationship had me mentally and emotionally living in survival mode. Subconsciously, it's what you do to get by and get through until you get out. Much like emotional abuse, you don't realize you have begun living in survival mode. It just happens right along with the abuse you don't realize is happening. They go together, abuse and survival mode. Even after the relationship was over I continued living in survival mode because it had become a habit by then. I was not living up to my potential! I had lost myself in the toxicity and was existing in complacency out of fear! I was afraid to lay my claim and take back my power! I was ashamed, humiliated, hurt, broken, depressed, broke!  I was carrying around so many thorns it was painful even for others to be around me, I believe. Hurt people hurt people and so without healing, my thorns were just hurting me and preventing growth and they were also hurting those around me who I was shutting out. I had a wall up so high NO ONE could get in!! I thought that would keep me from more pain! 

Yet, a small voice always remained, reminding me that this was not the end of my story! The longing remained for me to find the missing piece to my puzzle; my life’s purpose!

We are really good at building barriers to protect our feelings aren't we. We can choose to ignore things, put them on the back burner and hope they just go away. We can avoid situations and people in hopes that the problem we are having with them just disappears. We can also talk ourselves right out of progress with negative self talk. You know, that's when we say to ourselves " I am not good enough, strong enough or smart enough to handle this situation, opportunity or relationship." We can place blame or accept blame that doesn't belong to us to avoid conflict. This only stirs up conflict within.We get in our own way a lot. Sometimes we don't even realize that we are the problem.  For example, we may be doing all we think we can to be our best self. We commit to growth and positive change, striving for balance in our lives. We may be thinking positively and for the most part working in a good energy and still on a higher frequency than those around us.However, something is usually holding us back. We know there is more in store for us that isn't manifesting the way we want it to. 

Q: What holds us back?

A: Our thorns

When we are holding on tight to things like; fear, blame, insecurity, hurt, pain, toxic people, grudges, vengeance and regret because we don't want to face it, we don't any free hands to welcome or grasp the goodness available to us.

When the wall we build to protect ourselves gets so high that nothing can get in it's so easy to get locked inside behind our wall with our excuses. C.G. Jung, the Bible, Socrates and Buddhist teachings universally teach us that "what we resist, persists." Think about that for a moment longer. What is it that you are resisting. What is your thorn? 

Whatever we fear we strengthen. We cant ignore things and ask for more things. We have to deal with what we have. If your trying to move past something ask yourself if you've accepted it yet. Only after you accept it can you let it go and release it.

In your mind is power; God-within, spirit-within. I encourage you today to tap into it.

Here is a small list of happenings I remember from the start of my awakening to the first dark night I experienced! I had a lot of thorns as you just read and then on top of that this .....:

...sudden decision to resign from job I was at for 6 years due to personal ethics not aligning with corporate policies and procedures. 

 .... full of great energy and then one day it was all gone... depression

....started to see past people’s masks, facades and fake ...could not tolerate lies or the facade sooooooo many in my life put on

....fake friends started to try to hurt me in various ways (it was as if I was hidden in plain sight; as if I was being SHOWN  that these people are NOT SERVING ANY PURPOSE IN MY LIFE, GROWTH OR PROGRESS....and while I was thankful to learn the truth it seemed to be another thorn added to my growing collection

....decluttering of fake friends led to old friends from past returning into my life in strange ways....also meeting new people that are more aligned with awakened folks ; ) They say these people are your soul tribe and come when you need them! I can think of 2 people that came to me this way! AMAZING AND RIGHT ON TIME!!! One of them is out of state and I’ve never met in person but she was my angel in the dark night and to this day is my SOUL SISTER! Lorrie McBride was live on facebook one night in an EMPATH support group and I was just pulled to her! I did not know why but there was something telling me to listen. I watched her whole live feed and then I contacted her!! Turns out our stories are almost identical! She seems to have experiences just before I have mine and the timeline is exact as far as life events. However, I seem to be following right behind her in the process. She heals from her experiences and that is when I seem to be forced to face mine in another dark night! Lorrie is a healer and it was synchronicity when we met, the way we met. 

Had I never vowed to listen to my intuition I never would have contacted Lorrie! This is how your soul tribe finds you! You declutter the toxic people to make room for better folks to come in!! The talk we had on the phone had me in tears and EMPOWERED ME  to embrace this process! From that day on I have been owning and embracing every season of life and Lorrie is still a part of my life and our pattern is still the same.....She is one of my angels on earth and one of the first kindred spirits that flowed to me during my dark night of the soul moment! 

🌻❤The universe will keep sending you the same lesson until you learn it. ❤🌻 Do you ever feel like you keep repeating history; noticing that you keep facing a similar challenge? Well, the universe will keep bringing the same lesson around until you have it mastered.  

Too many dances with devils was my problem! A lesson I have repeated over and over my whole life and am just now healed and evolved enough to know that these patterns stem from things in my childhood I had repressed!! I try to save everyone and I always see the beauty in the beast!  Not a bad quality if you can keep health boundaries. Healthy boundaries are only possible when we are fully healed!

The universe had to come back around and slap me in the face with it about 6 months ago because I was ignoring it, running from it; I was afraid to reopen an old wound to fully heal. I was afraid of who I would be if I took the thorns out! I was comfortable in victim mentality. 

 Now, I am facing it and changing it once and for all! I had so many thorns that two years later I am still removing them; but I’ve made progress! Many are healed and I’m now helping others to do the same; I AM FULFILLING MY PURPOSE!

 MY PURPOSE WAS BORN OUT OF MY PAIN!!

You can get this best seller and many other self-development reads on amazon of course. I hope you choose to embrace your journey! Here is the link to their library of self-development books and audios to help you along your way; my favorites will be there to view as well! http://amzn.to/2G3WKRp

ONE LOVE TO YOU ALL, I HOPE THIS EMPOWERED YOU IN SOME WAY! KARYN DEE #THEINTUITIVEWILDFLOWER

@adventuresofawildflower-blog

instagram.com/theintuitivewildflower

pinterest.com/theintuitivewildflower

#heal #infj #empath #empathsbelike #healing #victimmentality #darknight #awakenings #awaken #woke #soulpurpose #purposedriven #fulfilled #create #blog #blogg #lawofattraction #lawofpositivity #lawofmomentum #intention #tenacity #momentum #thriving #adventuresofawildflower #theintuitivewildflower #hsp #highlysensitive #callings #longings #purpose

[camsthisky]

Teach Me to Dream - 3

Determine Your Reality 

Part 1 | Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Summary:  Dick’s eleven. Not thirteen and eager to prove himself. Not seventeen and mourning a brother. Not nineteen and wishing his best friend wasn’t dead and Bruce would look him in the eyes. He’s only eleven. So why does he remember all of that?

ao3 | ff.net

Bruce is just walking out of the meeting when gets a call from Clark of all people. Something heavy settles in Bruce’s stomach, and he knows that whatever this call is about, it’s not going to be good. And if it’s anything less than a global catastrophe, Bruce doesn’t think he’ll be able to hold back from snapping at the one person that Bruce can call his friend.

“Clark,” Bruce greets coolly.

“Dick is screaming.”

Bruce’s heart stops in his chest, and he freezes just before he can hit the elevator button. Because—no. He can’t have just heard that right. He’d left Dick all by himself, trusting Alfred when the butler had said that Dick would be okay for a few hours until he got home. And for what? He’s not at Dick’s side when his son needs it the most, and it’s killing him.

The meeting had lasted about an hour, and each second had been agony. He can still hear Dick screaming in his head. Dick had looked haunted, like he’d just seen the world burning right before his eyes, and it had killed Bruce to have to pin Dick to the bed in order to keep the boy from hurting himself. All he’d wanted during the meeting—all he wants is to be there for Dick instead of here, in the city, so far away from him.

“Bruce?” Clark asks, and he sounds frantic. “Bruce, please. What’s happening?”

Bruce doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. Dick had been completely fine last night before Bruce had put him to bed. He’d been happy and excited for the weekend—for their next patrol. He’d still been riding the high from solving the Riddler’s puzzles, still bright and smiling and himself.

And now? Bruce hadn’t seen him smile the entire morning. Not since Bruce had woken up to find Dick sobbing his eyes out, looking like he’d just lost his parents again. He’d look so close to how he’d come to the Manor a couple years ago. So lifeless and unhappy and depressed. But he had also looked so much worse. Like he’d just seen a thousand and one impossible, tragic things.

And Bruce’s heart hurts, because he doesn’t understand why. Dick’s had nightmares since the day he had come to live with Bruce, but he’d always found some way to bounce back—usually with a hug or sleeping in Bruce’ bed for a few days. This hadn’t been some nightmare. Bruce knows Dick’s nightmares, and this is something else entirely. And he hates that he doesn’t know. That he can’t help.

So Bruce jabs the elevator button and tells Clark, “I’m handling it—” he’s not, not at all, and he hates it, but he can’t have Clark coming here and seeing him without any composure, “—but I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

And then he hangs up, not giving Clark a chance to speak before he’s walking into the elevator, hitting the button for the parking garage, and dialing the number for the Manor.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred says after three and a half rings, and Bruce forces himself to breathe. To not demand. To let Alfred speak, because something’s wrong. He can hear it in Alfred’s voice. “I was about to call you.”

“What happened.” It’s not a question.

“I’m afraid I’m not quite certain, sir,” Alfred says, and in the background, he can hear Leslie murmuring. So something happened if Leslie was called over. Bruce waits a moment, expecting Alfred to continue and give him something a little more substantial. “I was in the kitchen, and Master Dick just started screaming from the other room. There was no cause I could determine.”

“So it was like this morning?” Bruce asks.

“It would seem so.”

Bruce practically sprints to his car as soon as the elevator doors slide open. He unlocks it quickly and slides in, and then he’s driving. He needs to be home. Needs to be with Dick. He tries to take a breath, tries not to jump to conclusions, because in the end, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what’s happening to Dick.

“Does Leslie know what’s wrong with him?”

Alfred hesitates. “Dr. Thompkins believes Master Dick to be in seemingly in perfect health.”

Mind over matter, then. Nothing Bruce hasn’t already guessed at this point, but it still makes Bruce want to pull over and scream incoherently. He’d hoped that this was just Dick feeling under the weather, making the nightmares slightly worse. If this was physical, Bruce would have no trouble calling Leslie and asking what to do. But mental traumas are always tricky, and no one will be able to do anything about it if Dick doesn’t tell them what’s wrong.

And Bruce doesn’t think that Dick will, in all honesty. Dick doesn’t often keep a lot of secrets from Bruce, but what if Dick’s too traumatized by whatever’s going on in his head to tell Bruce. Heaven knows that Bruce didn’t talk to anybody for over a week after his parents died, not even Alfred, and Bruce doesn’t know if he should expect anything different.

But he has to try.

“I’m on my way home,” Bruce tells Alfred. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Very good, sir. I shall see you then.”

Bruce wants to get this figured out. He wants Dick to be happy again. He just doesn’t know how he’s supposed to make that happen.

Dick dreams of the dark. He dreams of dying, of his family dying. Of being unable to keep his world safe. The dark presses in around him, and he finds it so hard to breathe, so hard to not suffocate on the blackness, and he wonders what he’s done in his life to deserve all of this. To deserve to watch Jason and Wally and Tim and Alfred and Leslie and Roy and Conner and M’gann and all of his friends—he wonders what he’s done to watch them die.

He’s twenty—he’s eleven—and he’s done things he regrets, but he doesn’t think he’s done anything bad enough to warrant something like the grief that’s dragging him along through the darkness right now.

Or maybe he has. Maybe he just can’t remember.

Dick lurches upright, gasping for breath, and when two sets of hands try to push him to lie down again, Dick fights. He’s—he doesn’t know where he is. Colors blur and each of his breaths catch in his chest, and all he can do is fight, try to make it out alive.

His ears are buzzing, and as he fights off his assailants, Dick thinks he hears someone calling his name, calling out to him. The voice is familiar. Dick knows that voice like he knows how to execute the perfect quadruple flip.

“—awake now, Dick. You’re alright,” Bruce is saying. Dick grips onto Bruce’s T-shirt with both hands and leans forward, right into Bruce’s space. The buzzing stops, and Dick can hear everything with a sharp clarity that he might have questioned at any other point in his life—but for now, he’s just grateful that the memory’s hold on him is fading. He can hear two other voices murmuring quietly to each other across the room, he can hear the springs of the bed as Bruce shifts on the bed, and he can hear the white noise of the portable fan that has sat on his bedside table ever since Bruce had bought it from a street vendor on an unusually hot day in Gotham.

He’s in his bedroom, the one he’s had for a little over two years. Bruce is here, holding onto Dick’s shoulders gently, patiently waiting for Dick gain some semblance of coherency. He’s not twenty, he’s not Nightwing, and he’s not dead. He’s eleven, he’s Robin, and he’s alive. He has to be alive.

“I’m not dead, am I?” Dick whispers into the air, just to make sure, and the room quiets. All but the fan. Dick doesn’t open his eyes, though, and he keeps his tight hold on Bruce’s T-shirt.

“No,” Bruce tells him, and he sounds very confident. Confident enough that Dick lets himself relax and crumple forward into Bruce’s comfort. Bruce doesn’t hesitate to scoop him up into an embrace, and Dick can’t help it when he starts crying. “No, Dick. You’re very much alive.”

“Good,” Dick manages to say despite the tears. It almost sounds like he’s choking. “That’s good.”

Dick just cries for a few minutes, letting everything out. It feels good, despite how much he’s been crying lately. It’s nice to pour out his frustration and his anger and his confusion and all the other emotions that accompany the memories until he’s raw and empty, and Bruce lets him. Bruce runs his fingers through Dick’s hair and rubs his back with a rough hand, and Dick doesn’t think that there’s anywhere else he’d rather be but here in Bruce’s arms.

All of these memories, they show him a future full of pain and suffering—they show Dick how he dies. He doesn’t want them. He just wants to be happy, to feel like himself, to grow up with Bruce and Alfred like he did in the memories. Sure, he knows what’s coming, but so what.

He feels like he’s lost a part of himself, and he’s not sure if he’s ever going to get it back.

“Dick,” Bruce says a while after Dick’s tears subside, and it’s gentle and soft and caring, and Dick doesn’t know if he deserves any of that. “Dick, I think we need to talk.”

“I don’t want to,” Dick tells him. “Bruce, please. Please don’t make me.”

Bruce squeezes him tighter, and he doesn’t speak for a while. The room goes back to being silent, and Dick thinks that the other voices, whoever they were, they aren’t in the room anymore. He thinks it’s just him and Bruce, and he’s so glad that no one else is here to watch him break down like this.

Finally, Bruce says, “Dick,” and it’s soft. Gentle in all the ways he usually isn’t. “I know that—”

“You don’t,” Dick cuts him off.

“What?”

Dick’s breathing speeds up, and he almost feels like that blackness is getting ready to rush over him again. Swallow him whole, and he wonders what happens then. Will he still be Dick Grayson? Will he still be himself? Struggling to handle these memories of a future he doesn’t want to remember?

Bruce has no idea what’s going through Dick’s head, and he doesn’t know whether he’s just still reeling from the memories and that dream, or if he’s finally lost it, but Dick snaps. He’s doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to feel this way, but the anger rushes up, consumes him, and Dick pushes Bruce away from him, screwing his eyes up against the angry tears.

“You don’t know!” Dick sobs. “You don’t get it! I’m not—I’m not you, Bruce! I feel like I’m about to lose my mind, and you have no idea what that feels like!”

Bruce swallows, and he lowers his voice. “Dick, I don’t know anything because you aren’t telling me.”

“And what happens when I do tell you?!” Dick screams, grabbing the blankets underneath him and twisting. He’s angry, he’s sad, he’s scared. Oh god, he’s so scared. His chest is tight with so many emotions, and he doesn’t know where to put them, what to do with them. And he hates himself because he’s never wanted to take this out on Bruce, but Bruce doesn’t get it. And he shouldn’t say that he does. “Are you going to lock me up in Arkham?! That’s what Batman does to all the crazies, right?! He puts them in Arkham and then he forgets about them. They don’t matter anymore!”

“Dick—what—”

But Bruce is at a loss for words, and Dick can barely handle looking at his stupid face at this point. Memories are threatening to overwhelm him again and Dick is having the hardest time pushing them down. He looks down at his shaking fingers, trying to ground himself in the present.

It’s too late, though. He can’t stop it.

“You just gave it to Jason?!” Dick asks, and he can’t believe it. “Without even asking me?!”

Bruce doesn’t say anything, just like he never says anything. Bruce is ruled by paranoia and fear, and Dick hates it sometimes. It’s saved his life, sure, but it’s also ruined his and Bruce’s relationship almost beyond repair. It’s always his rules. Always his way or the high way, and no one else can speak up lest they get shot down by the almighty Bat.

Dick absolutely hates it sometimes. Still, it’s something he’s learned to live with.

But this? Giving Robin to Jason without even so much as a word? That’s—that’s—

No. No no no. Dick can’t get sucked into the memories right now. He needs to stay focused. He’s not mad at Bruce for taking Robin away, because that hasn’t happened, and he doesn’t know if it ever will. He’s angry, he’s shaking, because Bruce is trying to tell him that he knows what it feels like to have his whole life keep flashing in front of his eyes with no way out of the stupid repetitive cycle. Bruce has no idea what it feels like to watch his own death.

Dick is the only one. He’s the only one who has this burden on his shoulders. Bruce thinks he knows? He doesn’t, and Dick thinks that even if he found some way to tell Bruce, he still wouldn’t.

“Dick,” Bruce says, and it sounds like Bruce is getting angry, too. Good. Dick doesn’t want to be the only one upset here, even if something in the back of his mind reminds him that he hates when Bruce gets mad at him. It’s never a pleasant experience for either one of them. “I’m not talking about any of the psychopaths in Arkham right now. I’m talking about you.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” Dick cries, eyes whipping up to meet Bruce’s intense gaze head-on, but he can’t quite make it. He ends up looking at Bruce’s nose. “You—you don’t know anything!”

Bruce grits his teeth, and Dick can tell that he’s forcing himself not to yell when he says, “You’re not insane, Dick.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do,” Bruce tells him, putting so much meaning in just two words. Bruce leans forward on the bed to grip Dick’s shoulders, and he shakes Dick slightly, like he’s trying to shake some sense in Dick, but Dick’s right. Bruce is wrong. Dick’s been slowly going insane since he first got these memories. “Dick, look at me.”

“I am!” Dick says, but he’s not. He’s crying too hard to see anything, much less Bruce. All he sees through the tears is the blurry blot of where Bruce is supposed to be. He wishes that he could just stop for once. He’s tired of crying, he’s tired of seeing memories, and he’s tired of feeling.

“You’re not.”

“I am!”

“You’re not,” Bruce says again, and then Bruce is brushing away the tears as they fall down Dick’s cheeks, and Dick blinks and finally looks Bruce in the eyes. Bruce doesn’t look mad anymore. Bruce looks sad, and it’s Dick that made him feel that way. Dick’s still crying—he doesn’t know how to  stop—but what else can he do when Bruce isn’t going to yell at him? What can he do if Dick’s the only bad guy in this situation? “You’re right, Dick. I don’t know what you’re going through. And unless you tell me, I’m not going to know.”

Bruce just wants to help. He’s not like the person the memories say Bruce will be. He isn’t pushing Dick away only to reach for Jason, instead. It’s Dick that’s pushing Bruce away, no matter how much he doesn’t want to. He wants Bruce to hold him and reassure him that he isn’t crazy. He wants Bruce to know.

But he can’t say it. He can’t. If he says it, will those memories become real? Will everything be the same when he finishes? Will Bruce look at him and tell him that he is sending Dick to Arkham to rot with people like the Joker? Is that how Dick will spend the rest of his life?

So Dick deflates and he whispers thickly, “I can’t, Bruce. I can’t tell you. Not right now,” and he pretends not to see the heartbreak on Bruce’s face as the man scoops him up in his arms again, tucks Dick’s head under his chin, and rocks him back and forth. Through all of this, Dick wonders just what he’s done to deserve Bruce and this unconditional love.

And when Bruce says, “That’s okay, Dick. Just tell me when you’re ready,” it just makes Dick feel that much guiltier.

“How is he?” Leslie asks.

Bruce looks up from where he’s leaning back against the headboard, Dick cradled in his lap. Leslie and Alfred are back in the room, having left when Dick had started freaking out before. It had been a good call, Bruce thinks. Dick had barely been able to look at Bruce while they were alone. He doesn’t think that he’d have been able to get a word out of Dick if there had been other people in the room.

Bruce is glad Dick’s even talking to him at all, even if it had been out of anger.

“He’s asleep,” Bruce says lowly. “I think he wore himself out yelling at me.”

Leslie sighs. “I hate to say it, but you might want to find him a psychologist to assess him. Whatever this is, it’s going to be a long road. I have a few I can recommend—”

“No psychologists,” Bruce growls immediately.

“Sir,” Alfred says, looking disapproving and unhappy, “I understand your avoidance of therapists and psychologists, but this does not seem something that we can handle on our own. We may want to listen to Dr. Thompkins’ suggestions if we want to see Master Dick return to his cheerful self.”

Therapists had done nothing for Bruce when he’d been younger, and in his opinion, they probably won’t do much good for Dick, either. Still, Alfred is right to some extent. This is way above all three of their heads, and without forcing Dick to open up, none of them—not even Leslie—know how to help him.

“Let’s give it a couple of days,” Bruce says, hating that he’s even considering this. But for Dick, he would do anything. “If he hasn’t opened up to us by Monday, then I’ll give someone a call.”

Leslie sighs, but she doesn’t look upset. Alfred looks carefully blank, like he’s not prepared to deal with any of this in front of Bruce and Leslie, and Bruce doesn’t fault him. Hell, Bruce isn’t ready to deal with any of this. And if this is tearing apart the three of them, Bruce can only imagine what Dick is going through.

“So three days, then,” Leslie says. “I’m going to head out and get that list together. Give me a call if there’s something I can do, Bruce.”

Bruce nods, and Leslie sweeps out the door, Alfred following her out after a quiet moment of staring forlornly at Dick completely passed out in Bruce’s arms. And then it’s just Bruce and Dick, and Bruce sags back into Dick’s headboard, because he’s never—never—felt this lost in his entire life. His parents’ death had been horrible, tragic, and it had set him on his life path, and it had hurt and never really gone away.

But Dick is Bruce’s entire world now. And to see his world in so much pain—Bruce is barely able to handle it. He just wishes that could do something more than offer help. He wishes he could take Dick’s pain, save him from it all.

He can’t, though, and nothing has ever hurt more.

#bruce wayne #dick grayson #dc #young justice #teach me to dream #camryn writes