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thegirlwhobrokeintothetardis · 3 years

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Tricked Into It (Greg Gerwitz x Reader)

Word Count: 1,957

Pairing: Greg Gerwitz aka Mouse x Reader

Summary: Ever since your last breakup with someone who cheated and abused the love you had for them, you have been wary of dating. And it doesn’t help when your friend Kim Burgess won’t stop pestering you about some cute techie guy at the 21st District.

Warnings: talk of bad relationship (cheating, emotional abuse, PTSD from the relationship), descriptions of what might be an anxiety attack (I described feeling anxious but it ended up bordering on what could have almost been an attack.)

A/N: So I am working on a Kelly Severide Imagine, but I’m a but stuck on it so I came up with the idea that I take the last imagine I wrote, the other Mouse Imagine and make it into a little series of one shots, mainly cause I wanted to explore the relationship of Mouse and this librarian!reader. So this is a sort of prequel to the first Mouse imagine, how they first met which is talked about in the other imagine.

HERE is the first Librarian!Reader fic if you want to check it out!!

If you want to be added to my tags, just ASK!!

“Kim, I swear to god!”

You slammed your book shut with a snap and looked up at the Chicago police officer, aka Kim Burgess aka your best friend, in front of you. She looked almost as annoyed as you felt, rolling her eyes and sitting down on your couch across you in your reading chair. Kim had come over after her shift at the 21st District ended, and only after a couple of minutes of peace, Kim started up on her latest crusade; your love life.

“Y/N...”

“No! I get that you care, believe me, but I don’t need you trying to set me up with someone.” You said with a heavy sigh.

Kim scooted closer to you and leaned forward, trying to catch your eye which was avoiding hers, “Hey,” She paused and waited for you to look her in the eye, “I just want you to be happy. And I think this guy is a good match for you. Much better than -”

“Don’t say their name.”

“...Fine. But Mouse is so your type!”

You were about to start arguing again when her words actually registered into your head, “His name is Mouse? There is no way that this cop’s name is Mouse.”

“Okay one, he isn’t a cop. He is a tech expert that works with Intelligence, a civilian hired by the unit and the department. And two, Mouse is just what everyone calls him, its a nickname from when he was younger.” Kim explained.

“Tech guy?”

“Yeah, crazy smart when it comes to hacking and stuff like that. He got the job after hacking into Voight’s cell phone in like a couple of seconds. And he was in the Rangers with Jay, plus he is pretty funny and cute.”

You looked away from Kim as you thought it through. Clearly Kim was just looking out for you, but there was no way this guy, this super-smart-tech-genius-ex-ranger, could ever be interested in someone like you. You were just a simple librarian at Chicago Public Library, living alone aside from your cat companion, Geraldine. You hadn’t done anything extraordinary with your life, and as your thought process started to spiral in an anxious tizzy, you started to shake your head.

“No, no I can’t see this guy. He wouldn’t want to get stuck with some boring librarian.” You said, your body shrinking in on itself as your self confidence crumbled. All the comments your ex significant other made to you while you were still dating came popping up into your mind one after the other after the other. Comments on your weight, your looks, how you were boring and that was why they stepped out and cheated on you any chance they could. Tears were misting in your eyes and you tried blinking them away, not wanting to cry in front of Kim.

“Y/N-”

“I mean it Kim. Drop it.”

Kim looked you over and saw how you had retreated into yourself, clearly looking uncomfortable with the topic. That’s when she sighed and nodded, forcing a small smile on her face, “Okay.”

---

A week has passed since the confrontation with Kim about that techie guy, and you were slowly trying to purge the whole instance from your head and get back to your quiet life. Every once in a while, the conversation would slide to the forefront of your mind, along with your anxiety-fueled spiral about your ex, and you would try and shake away the ordeal. It had made you feel small and disgusting thinking about your ex and how your self worth was diminished because of them, and you never wanted to go back to that place again. Even if that meant never being in another relationship again.

On Friday, you had gotten a text from Kim around midday about having a girl’s night and heading out to have a drink at Molly’s, this pub which had become pretty popular with the cops of the Intelligence Unit. You had been once before, and one of the owners, Gabbie Dawson, was really nice to you when Kim introduced her. So you agreed, excited to go out and hang out with Kim.

Once you got out of work around 6, you got back to your small one bedroom apartment and fed Geraldine before retreating to your room to figure out what to wear. You settled on a pair of slender black pants and a long sleeved dark green blouse matched with a pair of green heels. Once you showered, dried and got your hair the exact way you like it, added a little makeup and got dressed, it was time to head out and meet Kim at Molly’s. You drove to the neighborhood where the pub was, some cars already lining the streets letting you know that Molly’s would probably be busy.

You parked, and hurried to get inside, pulling your winter coat around you a litter tighter as a gust of wind tried to chill you to the bone. The November night air was lung chilling and while you weren’t dressed like those young twenty-somethings with short dresses and no coats, you still did not want to waste another second with the wind chill. Once you got in, you saw that your assumption about the pub being busy was right, many people scattered around the bar, others in groups were seated or standing next to tables against the other wall. You looked around, trying to catch Kim’s face in the crowd but having trouble with how crowded. You pealed off your coat and made your way to the bar where you saw an older man behind the counter, cleaning off a glass.

“Excuse me?” You said, slipping into the space in front of the bar, and accidentally grazing your arm against the guy sitting down to your right, “Oh sorry.” You said quickly to the guy, not really looking in his direction so you didn’t notice when he started staring at you in awe.

“What can I get ya?” The older man said as he put the glass down and gave you his full attention.

“I know this is probably a long shot, but my friend comes to this bar a lot and I was just wondering if you’ve seen her tonight? Kim Burgess?”

“Ah! I know Burgess. From the 21st District?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s her.”

The man smiled before turning around and grabbing something from behind the bar and then turned back to you, “I haven’t seen her, but she called about 5 minutes ago saying that her friend would be stopping by tonight. She also said to get her a vodka cranberry on her and to give her this.”

He handed you a napkin and then turned away, most likely to get your drink ready. You looked down at the napkin with a rough note written on it, reading out loud the note, “Hey, something came up super last minute, have a drink on me and enjoy the night. Sorry, --Kim.”

“Sorry about that, kid.” The man said as he returned with your drink, giving you a warm smile that also had a hint of pity in it.

“No problem. It’s not your fault.”

With one more smile he headed towards the other end of the bar, leaving you with your drink. You let out a sigh and brought the drink to your lips, trying to figure out what you were going to do next when a voice from next to you started speaking.

“You’re friends with Burgess?”

Looking over, it was the guy you had apologized to earlier. Now that you weren’t in a rush to find Kim, you got a good look at him. He had brown hair, you could almost consider it floppy-like if it didn’t also have a clean-cut feel to it. The man’s eyes were bright blue, and they looked at you with a mix of intrigue and surprise. He was wearing a blue button-up which matched his eyes, the first few buttons undone.

“Yeah, do you know her?” You asked. He nodded and looked down to his beer bottle, his fingers anxiously playing with the paper label.

“I-I work with her at the district.” He explained. “Are you one of her flight attendant friends?”

“No, god no. I’m a librarian at the Chicago Public Library.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“You don’t have to lie. I know it’s boring..”

“No! I genuinely think it’s cool. I-I mean I’m not a huge book guy myself but-but I did read a lot of Shakespeare in school and that was really cool, especially the-the one about the guy who dressed as a woman to hide from a mob or something and everyone thought he was a witch?” The guy rambled, his face flushing as he tried to save himself. You smirked at the clumsiness of his words and took a drink of your cocktail.

“The Merry Wives of Windsor?” You offered, and the guy snapped at the name.

“Yeah, yeah. The whole play now that I think about it went over my head at 16. But I was too interested in the Blackhawks and code. Like-Like the game that happened the other night, I was invested until that left winger from the Rangers totally checked Hartman and they put-”

“Hartman in the penalty box! Yes!! With only 3 minutes left on the clock and the take out the best right winger on the ice.” You jumped in, a smile growing on your face as the topic of hockey came up. “If he was still playing the Blackhawks would have got at least 2 more points and would have won instead of losing to the worst team in the league.”

The guy sputtered his drink and starts laughing, and immediately think its cause you had embarrassed yourself and he was laughing at you, not what you said. That was until he smiled at you and nodded his head.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

You felt a small fluttering in you chest when he smiled, something about him not making you nervous or anxious which was a change. With a smile on your own face, you put your hand out to him, “I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N L/N.”

“Greg Gerwitz.” Greg took your hand and shook it, lingering for a couple extra seconds before pulling away. “Or you can call me Mouse.”

You froze as he said that, your eyes widening in shock. He seemed to see your reaction and frowned, “Or not?”

“No, sorry.” You said quickly, trying to recover. “It-Its just that Burgess has been trying to set me up with you for the last few weeks.”

“Wait...oh! You’re that librarian! Burgess has been telling me about you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, says how you are the best person ever and that I would like you the minute we met.” He chuckled. Greg smirked and turned more towards you, “And she wasn’t wrong.”

You flushed, feeling the heat of your blush against your cheeks as his smirk widened. It was quiet between the two of you as the pub continued with it’s noise like it wasn’t watching the start of something amazing. Greg then spoke up, getting your attention again, “Hey, I know this might seem fast but I really like talking to you.”

“I really like talking to you too.”

“Really?” He asked, his face getting red again as his smirk melted away into a nervous smile, “Well, what would you say about a date? Maybe the Blackhawks game tomorrow?”

It took quicker than you thought, but all your anxiety from the week before seemed like a long lost bad dream and you just wanted to spend some time with Greg Gerwitz.

“I would love to.”

ONE CHICAGO TAGS: @carnationworld

NORMAL TAGS: @l4life @ithoughtiwasflying

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ktheist · 3 years

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for the drabble game: college!taehyung + sentence starters + no. 8 under misc

8. “But I’ve never told you that before.”

muses. fratboy!taehyung / college!taehyung

kim taehyung and you have an odd relationship.

you’re not even friends, really. just two friends of a friend who makes an accquaintance and happened to find themselves in a secluded class some time after 5, once most of the classes are vacant. the lecturers have their own rooms and the classes are manned by persons from the admin and they hardly ever come around until 8pm when it’s time to lock the doors.

you find out taehyung’s obsession for art and he finds out your obsession for interior design. at least yours isn’t too far off from what mechanical engineering entails.

at some point, you can even say your interests are like two streams running side by side until it mingles at one point in time.

then, you find out that he’s part of one of the most notorious fraternities for their wild parties that lasts for three days straight at the end of every semester. and oh, here’s the good part, only the popular ones get invited.

“figures why you haven’t heard of me,” you tease.

“what? no! i-i’ve heard of you, i just didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you,” his wide-eyed gaze hints at a sort of innocence his brothers lack.

you wonder how he got sucked into the frat house shenanigans.

“chill, i was kidding, i’ve been laying low anyway,” you wave a hand.

“wh-what? why?” he asks and you’re not particularly restricted to telling him the reason.

“first year, jimin and i would’ve celebrated our 4th year anniversary - if you can’t tell, we were high school sweethearts,” you laugh, chest still prickled with the kind of pain only time can heal, “but yeeun came along, he fell for her and since she’s more popular, everyone just started believing that i was the one who got in between her and jimin.”

the rage in taehyung’s eyes spread like wildfire, burning and tearing down everything in its path until you place a hand on his shoulder and he looks at you as if you’re a goddess sent to placate hades’ wrath.

“it’s chill, at least i’m one heartbreak away from finding the right one,” you say.

but taehyung finds you with puffy cheeks and pink eyes as you walk out of the bathroom. it’s no surprise and yet it is. kim yeeun spilled coffee all over your hair and shirt and the slap you give her still reverberates against the walls of the lecture hall.

your friends who came out a second later connects the two dots and nudges you towards taehyung before scurrying away, but not with a threat of ‘you better not make her cry more, kim taehyung’.

why they left you with a boy you barely know is beyond you - but perhaps it’s got to do with the fact that delta psi is in tight rivalry of beta nu, the frat jimin’s been loyal to after he broke your heart and gave his to the girl that’s been microaggressively picking on you since day one.

“i heard the red mark on kim yeeun’s face is still there,” he casually says three days after he’s been running up to you every time he sees you somewhere in the large building made for sleepless engineering students.

“it better, i almost twisted my wrist because of it,” you roll your eyes but taehyung must have known that the hostility is awkward, forced.

then, so it goes, the many instances where kim taehyung and you would be spotted laughing or walking together as if he’s the boy who mended the broken girl’s heart.

unbeknownst to them that you’re the one gradually breaking taehyung’s heart with your ‘you know what, i’ve never had a guy friend’ and ‘chill, you’re scaring my potential boyfriends!’ at parties he starts bringing you to.

“i can’t wait to see johnny again,” you confess, smile curling on your lips as you nudge taehyung’s elbow, “aren’t you curious who this johnny-from-hometown is? might be another subject of you death glares.”

surprisingly, kim taehyung doesn’t bat an eye at the mysterious mention of the name.

“i know, she’s your cat.”

he keeps on walking whilst you stop dead in your track. it doesn’t even take fiv seconds to notice your lack of presence on his side before he stops too, twirling around and shooting you and arched eyebrow.

“but i’ve never told you that before,” you feel your own brows coming together in a frown.

“you mumble in your sleep,” taehyung points out as if it’s the most obvious thing to do.

“oh,” you whole heartedly believe him, falling back into pace with him.

in hindsight, you should’ve probably been more careful when you talk about sleeping and being in each other’s presence whilst that activity was happening. even if it was just taehyung helping out a drunk and offering her shelter until morning comes.

“yoo jia heard it with her own ears! they’re sleeping together!” is what’s been circulating around at the start of the week while you’re stretching your arms over your head as a yawn escapes you.

“i don’t wanna be that person, but,” jennie kim loops her arm around yours when she finds you in the hallway, heading to your shared class, “are you and kim taehyung finally dating?”

“finally?” you feel the muscles on your face contort into an ugly frown, “wait, does that mean there’s been speculations we were gonna end up dating? what?”

and that’s how you find out the rumor that starts up a fire throughout your whole class. by noon, it gets almost impossible to ignore those prying eyes that sticks with you as you stand in front of taehyung, “did you know? about the rumor?”

“can’t say i didn’t,” he shrugs.

“god-” you smack his arm and he dramatically raise his shoulders in brace for impact, “-damn it, why didn’t you tell me?!”

“what good would it do if i told you? ah! cuddlebugs, you’re hurting me!” his voice is exceptionally loud.

“c-cuddlebugs? what the-” you’re rendered frozen and wide-eyed by his tricks yet something in churns with butterflies.

“i’ll see you tonight, okay?” he pinches your cheek and slips past you with a sort of smirk that you’ve never seen him wear.

everything gets weirder from there after.

you become hyper aware of what kim taehyung does or say, the way he has two smiles; a pure box-ish one and a titled smirk that’s just enough to get your heart racing when paired with a rase of his eyebrows. there’s a hint of masculinity under the scent of fruity floral juul he smokes and sticks to his shirt. and his touches tingle. they tingle like a ghost of a touch lingering on the hand that he mindlessly holds to keep you from being pushed around by the wave of dancing bodies.

he laughs when you pull your hand away and crosses your arm over it, “chill, i wasn’t trying to make a pass on you, just making sure you’re still there when i turn around.”

you’ve had records of getting lost in the crowd when it comes to parties - and when are parties not crowded?

taehyung hands you an unopened can of beer and you look at him questioningly because he always pops it open for you, “you don’t trust me to hold your hand but you want me to open your drink for you?”

there’s an underlying brazenness in his teasing tonight, as if he’s mistakenly decided to wear a cloak of a frat boy than the kim taehyung you’ve known and loved.

as a friend that is.

“whatever,” you gulp down the drink with reckless abandon, appreciating the bitterness that somehow roots you to reality despite the impending buzz that’ll drive you away from said reality.

and then you’re back to your old self, laughing and joking around in that bench outside of taehyung’s frat house, sitting a little too closely until your thighs are perched on top of his and his hand is drawing circles on the outside of your thigh.

“i don’t like that,” you confess, “the way you’re trying to act all sexy and hot,” and without any warning, you take his face in your palms, squishing his cheeks, not enough to hurt but enough to make his eyes go wide with surprise and that innocent glint in them, “now, that’s better. that’s my taehyung.”

then his hand travels up from your thigh to your cheek, caressing the heated area of your face with his knuckles, “but if i’m the cute, childish taehyung, you won’t see me as a man.”

“man schman,” you huff, hands falling into your lap, “a real man won’t feel the need to act masculine to get a girl.”

“then... if i tell you i-”

and that’s when you lean so far back, almost hitting your head against the metal edge in the process if taehyung hadn’t caught you in time. eyes screwed shut and mouth partly open, you mumble, “man... schman...”

taehyung shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. he unzips his hoodie and wraps it around you - that’s another one he won’t get back, but he doesn’t mind as much because-

“you’re lucky i like you.”

#taehyung scenarios #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader #bts fic #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts au #bts fluff #bts drabbles #drabble game 1 #excerpt from a fic i'll never write

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9uk · 6 years

Text

Let Me Stay Close To You : prologue

⌲ summary : you were finally free from the worst nightmare of your life in high school. the doors of college welcomed you with open arms, you were set on living your best life in here, away from the toxicity back at home. that shimmer of hope in restoring your life, was somehow effortlessly crushed by a tap on your shoulder. “Hey Y/N, why don’t you say we catch up for a moment?”

⌲ pairing : bully!jungkook x reader

⌲ word count : 3.7k

⌲ genre: a whole lot of angst, angry jungkook!!1!!11!!!

⌲ warnings : mentions of abuse and violent acts (blood and cuts)

⌲ a/n : hehe look foward to part 1, where things will start to transpire between jk & oc :> and namjoon would appear!

prologue > part one

People always found you an easy prey to bully. And that was because you were nice. Too nice. Well at least for their liking.

When they took your notes or stationaries without asking, you’d only smile. When they flip your lunch in the bin or purposely stain your skirt, you’d just skip your meal and quickly wash up. You wouldn’t even rat out at them or cry in the corner for their bullying acts. One of the ‘they’, included the handsome popular, Jeon Jungkook. He was the guy who was good at all sports, studies average, had a line of girls queuing for him, had his usual awesome circle of friends and he was flooded with money, being the youngest heir of the JEON Entertainment.

Life seemed to be going pretty well for him.

He was nice, to those that benefited him, to his friends, to pretty girls and so on. He exceptionally loved to pick on you, you don’t know why, but he just does, even though you’re a little unreactive to his attacks. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that your family was of no merit status, you enrolled into this elite high school purely from results of distinction and flying colours—making you an easy target. It was like you were his favourite victim. How you beared with all of his petty actions made you almost seem like a masochist. And it all started from the day you accidentally tripped him, (or more like he did not watch where he was going) he ended up falling to the ground with his lunch smashed on his face and the whole school witnessed the tragic event, trying their best to not burst out laughing at the embarassing moment for the notorious and powerful student. As a person of high popularity, it obviously tarnished his reputation ever since he started his annoying insults and bullying even though you had apologised profusely.

“Y/N, watch out!” You would turn to the direction of the sound, only to feel sharp pain at your cheeks, a rubber band shot right at you. And you hear Jungkook and other students laughing.

You would wince a little, as your skin starts to sting hard and Jungkook’s laughter falls slightly as he realised you were hurting. He only bullied you to how much you can take, and he’s never crossed the line. But the line is subjective.

Jungkook would fiddle with your hair with his pencil from behind in geography class, copy your homework and at times he would snatch the cup of berry yoghurt drink you would bring everyday to school for your lunch and drink it all at one go, leaving only a soft thanks.

Many instances like this.

But you did not mind, you paid no attention to his mischievous acts to not let him get what he wanted, which was what all bullies wanted—their victims to be affected by them.

You gradually became someone Jungkook frequently vented his frustrations on. Seeing how submissive and forgiving you were to what he did to you, made his blood boil at times.

“Hey, finish this essay for me.” Jungkook would slam the incomplete homework onto your table and place his hands in his pockets. He searches your face for any displease but your visage of kindness never falters. You only agree without hesitation. “Okay.”

The word flicked a switch in his nerves. You were like a robot, turning blind to his existence and simply following his orders. Your willingness to comply to every single thing he says is ticking him off, irritating him at its maximum.

“Okay? Is that the only word you fucking know?!” The bomb in him finally explodes and he slaps the back of your head. “Answer me.” Jungkook tugs at your ponytail and demands an immediate answer.

“No, but what do you want?” It was like, you finally spoken up. And it elicited a smirk from his cunning face.

“What do I want?” He cocks a brow playfully.“ I want-”

“Whatever my reply is, you’ll hit me, anyways.” You cut him off and look down, far too tired to deal with his bullshit. You found no point in rebutting to his words or actions, the outcome would still be similar in a way or two. You were already prepared for a slap to arrive on your exceptionally daring cheeks. Or maybe even a punch in the face.

Jungkook tongued his cheeks at your witty reply, and for not letting him finish. He feels a scorching wrath swirling in the pit of his stomach and sends you a look that could burn a hole right through walls, “I’d suggest you leave before your stupid face catches my fist.” To which you stood up and made your way out of the classroom, away from Jungkook. You could sense when he was really mad, and you would know best when to leave him alone.

Jungkook sweeps the stationaries and papers off your desk in rage and they fall, clamouring to the floor. He just couldn’t understand how you’d always seemed to have the upper hand even though he was the one clearly possessing the dominance between the both of you. He had no form of control over anything in his life—his money didn’t come from his bank, his grades were a total flop, his every movement was restricted and watched over by his parents and the media— his life was just so out of place. And meanwhile you? You had just escalated his need of having you squirming under the very tips of his fingers. Jungkook didn’t know why he was feeling this way—it was sickening.

Why were you so obedient to his ridiculous commands? It didn’t seem like you were afraid of him at all, either. You were really a one of a kind in his life—he had never met anyone like you at all.

When he interacted with you, he could truly be himself without holding back or resisting the urge to yell threats or throw violent fits. It was perhaps because of the fact that these behaviours were not condoned at home or in the eagle eye of the public, he unleashes the true nature in him onto you—someone that he didn’t need to impress—and in an exceptionally ruthless way.

For you it was a rather usual day at the school of bullies (or rather, bully) and being the introvert you were, you silently listened to music with your head in your folded arms. Peace was one of your major goals in the process of getting through this hellhole. And music brought you happiness, blocking away all the hushed murmurs and gossips, the loud mixture of squeals and ramblings of rambunctious cliques. You weren’t so much of a fan in raising the roof. While the rest went for recess, you stayed in class for a moment of silence. Or so you thought.

Jungkook digs his pockets frantically. “Ah, my phone. I left it in class. Follow me to get it would you?” Jungkook nudges Yugyeom. It elicited a roll of the yes of his friend, but Yugyeom still accompanies him like the good mate he was. “Fine.”

You peeked and noticed the classroom door had opened. Followed by voices. You would have ignored them if they were talking amongst themselves but you were the main subject of their blabbering. But also, it’s not like you really cared either way.

“Wow, isn’t that like the lamest girl in our level?” Yugyeom tucks his hands in his pockets and nods at your direction, casually picking on you.

You keep your head in between your arms, refusing to look up but listen as you discreetly lower the volume of the your phone. The least you could afford to do was to not be such an oblivious idiot to their words.

Jungkook takes a quick look at you, wonders why you stick out like a sore thumb practically everywhere for a second, then heads to his bag to collect his phone.

“Oh look, she even brings a Nintendo DS to school. How cute.” Yugyeom swipes it carelessly off your table, inspecting the game console. Your head flew up to your pink gaming device being touched by the fingers of a stranger, and not purely just any stranger—but Kim Yugyeom. You tried to snatch it back but Yugyeom was faster than you in every way, swinging it away from your reach.

“Give it back you asshole!” You shouted, tone clearly displaying your annoyance. The sound of your voice immediately grabs Jungkook’s attention away from his bag, his head whipping to your direction at the volume of your voice, never heard before.

You must be really pissed in order to have yelled like that.

A devious smirk crawls onto his features instantly.

The usual you would have not cared, letting them push your buttons but you would never go into a outburst. However, and very unfortunately, the Nintendo console was a present from your late bestfriend, the only thing you could hold onto in his remembrance. The thoughts of the sweet boy you grew up so close to never fails to have your eyes start stinging with tears but you hold them back. As always.

Yugyeom gives a sacarstically impressed pout at your outrage, too calm even after you retorted fiercely back at him. “Woah, she’s feisty.” Yugyeom calmly comments—almost scaringly too calm.

The calm before the storm.

“Kook-ah, let’s have some fun before we go for lunch, shall we?”

Though on the inside, discontentment pricks at his gut. No one shouts at him, Kim Yugyeom, son of the head boss of Kim Industries, raised with a sliver spoon in his mouth, almost everyone bend their heads upon his presence—let alone the loser who lacked both money and power. He still has the precious console in his possession, and you were beyond fury when he is unresponsive to your complains. “Give,” You clench your teeth.

“It,” You ball your hands into tight fists.

“BACK!”

Before you know it, before he knows it, before everybody knows it, the sharp edges of your knuckles are flying across Kim Yugyeom’s face with a harsh and unforgiving strength. He flies in the direction of your hit and knocks into some of the classroom desks, toppling over and onto the ground. You had just punched Kim Yugyeom. You sighed in burnt out anger, regretting your impulsive decision to punch a rich asshole in the face—for your ass was about to get sued by the second largest company in town and all of your efforts in swallowing your pride and succumbing to all of their vicious acts had gone down the drain. Solely in a swing of your arm. Because you weren’t having it that day. And so was the person witnessing this from the corner of the classroom.

Despite the refreshing reaction from you, Jungkook is enraged from the sight of his bruised friend. He grabs your wrist and slams you back onto the lockers at the back violently till they ruttle. You wonder why the bad boys in high school movies did this to their crushes. First of all, it actually really hurts. Second of all, you were no crush to Jungkook, and in the very sad reality, his punching bag. The loud clang of the metal locker doors did not make you flinch one bit as you were too, overwhelmed with anger. He saw no fear. You were so lost in your own damn little world, like always.

The locking of your gazes were so intense and filled with rage, Jungkook was a little shocked at the way you were acting. He’s never seen you this riled up before. Slowly, you calmed down and you feel emptiness surge throughout your whole body as the rage dissipates. Yugyeom was still on the ground, checking his elbows and wincing upon the tragic fall, letting his bestfriend finish the job.

“The nerve of you?” It comes out softer than he expects, perhaps because of the effect of your quick change in entire demeanour on him. He grips your wrist even tighter and kicks you in the shin.

“Do you know that you’re such an eyesore?”

Jungkook shoves at your shoulder hard, you almost feel like it dislocated.

“Do you know that your fucking ignorance makes you intolerable?” His eyes grew darker with every crude remark spat onto you, the strength exerted in his strikes and the vein popping out at his neck clearly expressing the amount resentment he has for your existence.

You are able sense that he meant every word, each sentence hitting you to rock bottom.

You were back to the normal Y/N, not showing any sort of emotions, keeping them locked up in a cage, in a place far away from your heart.

He narrows his eyes at you. Jungkook was getting annoyed, at how his actions and words didn’t even make you have the slightest tremble.

Despite his threatening form, you remained your calm composure and simply tweaked a smile.

“I do.”

What comes after those retaliating words was a sharp stinging slap on the face. The skin-on-skin contact between his hand and your face enchoed through the classroom, the slap was so brutal it sent your cheek burning and his hand print stained red on the skin. Tears start to well up in your eyes, not because of emotions but the physical pain and you held them back. Like always.

You’ve been through worse, get a hold of your damn tears.

You would tell yourself.

“Stop living,” Jungkook shows no remorse on his face and proceeds to grab your hair so tightly your scalp might rip apart.

“In,” He smashes your head to the side and something cut your forehead—the broken lock that had a piece of metal protruding. Jungkook is completely blinded by the rage and scars surging throughout his body, he doesn’t notice this and he keeps throwing you against the lockers.

“Your,”

Cut.

“Own.”

Cut.

“Fucking world!” By this time, thick blood starts drooling from the wound down to your cheeks.

“Yah yah yah, that’s enough.” Yugyeom managed to get up and reaches out to restrain his friend in time. But he wasn’t doing it for the sake of you, he was stopping his bestfriend from landing in jail for murder, or something of the sort.

Jungkook scoffs and you slide down to the ground in an exhausted defeat. Your frontal lobe was probably out in open air now, with the skin of your forehead having teared apart.

The game device is on the ground, probably broken from the rampage earlier on.

Everything feels too numb, and cuts and bruises were nothing.

“Yah, wasn’t that a bit too much?” Yugyeom looks at Jungkook while wincing at the bruise on the corner of his lip as he recalls your bloody head.

Jungkook keeps his eyes to the front, “You said you wanted to have fun. And you just got punched..real bad. By a girl.” Jungkook chuckles to lighten the mood. Yugyeom rolls his eyes. “I’ll pay her back for it someday..” He feels a dull strike upon his ego.

“But I guess that lame thing really meant something to her so I probably deserved it.” Jungkook looks at his friend in suspicion.

Since when did he become this understanding?

“Whatever. I already did the favour for you.”

Yugyeom’s brows are knitted together hard, in what seemed like confusion and worry, his eyes searching the ground for answers. He scratches the back of his neck in rapidly in frustration, as he analyses the situation earlier on.

“But it isn’t of you to be that violent. She fucking bled!”

Jungkook halts his steps.

“What?”

“Dude, she was bleeding like mad! We never got to the extent of picking on her to.. to that state!” His expression falls at the fresh memory of the harsh blow on your head.

“Were you too caught up with your thoughts or something?”

“I...Uh, didn’t know.” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows. A spark of guilt shocks him into realisation, followed by strong currents of shame washing over his whole body. For the first time, he feels apologetic, the need to check on the condition of your injury surges through him and his legs are moving on their own accord back to the classroom of that fatal accident. When he arrives to said destination, your slouched form against the lockers is long gone, the classroom had no one except a thick layer of tension lingering in the air from the incident earlier on. Instinctively, he dashes to the school’s sick bay.

Jungkook tells himself that he is this concerned about you because he is the culprit of the sharp slice on your temple, and nothing else. He still hates you deep to the core and had already planned out a series of insults he could carry on to spit on you once you would return to school. Make fun of the ugly bandage you were going to have wrapped around your head, maybe. As he views you through the rectangular glass panel fixed on the bay’s door, he catches you smiling assuringly at the anxious nurse tending to your injury.

It was the first time he saw you smile.

His muscles unknowingly relaxes at the sight.

“I’m fine, it’s nothing.”

He can make out the words you mouthed and that rip on your head with dried up blood, for sure did not seem fine at all.

He was a monster. He was a monster to you, that is.

“I just fell.”

There’s a pang of remorse in his conscience-stricken heart.

The school nurse’s eyes widened in disbelief. Just for a brief moment, he contemplates to stop bullying your weak and pathetic form. There should be plenty other people out there to release his anger onto… he wasn’t even sure. You were the nicest and most cooperative victim so far in his journey of putting people down to feed his ego and have some sort of control over at least something in his life. And that is also why he doesn’t ever stop provoking you. Your perfect ignorance ignites his passion in tormenting you, for you weren’t an easy prey to intimidate, yet at the same time you effortlessly comply to his outrageous demands—he found it enticing.

The nurse wipes her forehead with the back of her hand dramatically, in some sort of despair to figure out how the hell was she going to fix you up with an injury this serious. Stitches was the final resort and it was going to be a huge hassle for the both of you, she explained. You simply chuckled at her over worrying and flustered form for you as she fondles hastily around the trays of medication in panic.

It was certainly entertaining to see someone worrying this much about you.

Jungkook watches your teeth slowly show and what seemed like a shy giggle falling from your lips.

It was the first time he saw you laugh.

Light starts to fill into his dark eyes and his heart does that thing again.The thing it does when he sees his first love in 3rd grade. The feeling is long forgotten and you were the cause of it gradually lighting up again. He has no idea when he started feeling these tingling sparks in his heart whenever he sees you, but he knew love was nothing but trouble. Jungkook hates to admit it, but he cares for you more than he actually shows it. And he begins to loathe himself for doing all these stupid things to you.

Indeed he wasn’t in his right mind. That morning his eggs were burnt, he broke his glass of milk, he wore mismatched socks, his mom nagged at him more than usual, his hair didn’t stay the way he styled it—rough morning for a boy who’d never been through hardships.

That’s why he was further more tilted when he realised he left his phone in class, only to come across you, who punched his bestfriend across the face. And Jungkook’s revenge got a little out of hand for his liking when he snapped back to his senses, he felt genuinely sorry for hurting you this time. That badly. He usually just did stupid tricks to you or yell insults at you—and today he made you bleed.

Maybe it was time he put a stop to this.

“Look shithead, I’m sorry for creating that ugly-looking cut on your head the other day. But hey, I’m just a tiny bit sorry okay? You still belong in the trashcan.” Jungkook repeats the apology differently for the twenty-fourth time, staring at the reflection of his own cocky face. He lets out a huff of frustration. He didn’t understand why he was practicing for a stupid apology.

Perhaps it was because it’s you.

Someone he’d never thought he would be saying sorry to.

Why was it so difficult? “Fuck it,” He muttered under his breath and ran his fingers through his hair, stomping out of the bathroom.

The loud ringings of the bell throughout the school signalled the start of hell. It was a typical Monday half the school dreaded, the other half being overly-enthusiastic nerds who worked their asses off. One of aforementioned group of people being you. You, whom was constantly buried in cheesy romance novels, to which half of them were filled with his nasty scribbles and doodles, and whom he still felt like he owed a sincere ‘I’m sorry’ to.

He hops off the black Mercedes Benz and takes his time strolling into the school building, knowing you always arrived on the dot— to probably not want to spend any more time than neccessary in this shitty system (and with him).

As he rehearses his lines once more, Jungkook trudges into the classroom with confidence. A minute late, to be specific, a strategy of making sure you were in there already.

The words memorised painstakingly in his head seem to slowly fade into a sheet of blank, and his brows knit in confusion automatically—at your empty seat.

“I’m sorry.”

But you weren’t there anymore.

#jungkook #bts #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts angst #bts smut #jeon jungkook #bangtan #bangtan scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bully!au

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mandiemegatron · 5 years

Text

Best Birthday Ever!

A Yoosung Kim birthday oneshot ; 03/11/2019

Happy birthday to my best boy Yoosung Kim! You deserve nothing but the best. This is my very first Mystic Messenger oneshot and I am beyond thankful to @lumiolivierlithium for helping me by being my beta and my strength as I fight my nerves towards posting this! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I hope you all enjoy! Feel free to like, reblog and/or comment! Thank you again ! ♡

This is rated G!

Words: 2,362

For the first time since Rika had passed away, Yoosung woke before his alarm went off. His eyes snapped open three whole minutes before the loud klaxon alarm bell rang, a slow grin washing over his face as he suddenly sat up, throwing his arms in the air with a shout of,

"Hell yeah, it's my birthday!"

The moment the words left his mouth, his phone vibrated and up popped MC's photo, indicating a phone call. He scrambled to grasp his phone before answering almost breathlessly, having nearly fallen off the bed and face planting into rough carpeting.

"Good morning MC!"

"Ah, good morning Yoosung! Happy birthday sweetie!"

Yoosung's face turned a dark red though his grin still remained. "Thank you so much! I can't believe you called me to wish me happy birthday,"

MC giggled on the other line, switching her phone to her other ear as she replied, "Of course honey, why wouldn't I? You're my best bud Yoosung, of course I'm going to call you..."

Yoosung went to reply but stopped as MC took only half a second to breathe before she started singing, the birthday melody falling into Yoosung's ears like a lullaby. Half way through, he began to tear up. He hadn't been sung Happy Birthday since he was a kid, and he didn't realize how much he actually loved it until now.

When she finished, her side of the line went quite for a while, unsure if her friend actually enjoyed it. Then, hearing what sounded like a sniffle, she exclaimed,

"Oh god, I made you cry! I didn't think my singing was that bad!"

Yoosung then laughed, wiping at his eyes as his grin returned. "Th-thank you MC... you're always so nice to me."

Though he couldn't see it, he could hear the smile in her voice when she softly replied, "...My pleasure, Yoosungie. Now, I have a feeling I woke you up with my phone call so-"

"Actually, you didn't!"

Silence.

"MC?"

More silence. And then,

"... so you can wake up whenever you want, you just decide to be a butt and sleep so much you miss classes on purpose! You sneaky boy."

Fumbling over his excuses, a soft giggle caused heat to rush to his face all over again as she teased, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

After a few more moments of Yoosung yawning and humming from MC's line, she then asked,

"Hey, you wanna do breakfast with me and the twins? Saeran is begging for waffles and I can't say no to him anymore. Also I want to treat you... if that's okay."

There was no hiding that Yoosung had a serious crush on MC. He knew that, the twins knew that; Hell, the whole RFA probably knew, except for MC. As loving, wonderful, outgoing and perfect as Yoosung found MC, there was no denying that she was ridiculously oblivious. Either that or she had an incredible poker face... that she kept on at all times.

Yoosung had beliefs in both theories.

Before he could answer, his stomach did it for him and MC laughed, having heard the slight grumble through the phone.

"Alright, that's that then. Saeyoung left a few minutes ago so you've probably got about-"

/ding-dong/

"..."

"He's already there, isn't he."

"... Yeah. Yeah, he is."

/knock-knock-knock/

"... you better answer it before he breaks the door down."

After saying their goodbyes, Yoosung sighed and rubbed a slightly irritated hand over his face before stumbling out of bed and going to his apartment door. After opening it, he went to welcome his best friend only to be pulled into a hard chest that smelt of car oil, honey Buddha chips and strangely enough, MC's favourite perfume.

"Ahhh, my small child, so grown up! Stop it! Stop growing up this instant!"

Yoosung let Saeyoung ruffle his hair lovingly before pushing away from the slightly older male, fixing him with a tired look before letting him inside. Saeyoung whistled low, looking at the surprisingly clean apartment with proud eyes.

"You expecting some company, Yoo? The last time I saw your place looking this clean was when MC came - oh. Oh, hohoho, you sly boy!"

Yoosung groaned, embarrassed and blushing while managing to slip away before Saeyoung could wrangle him into a suffocating grip once more. "Shut up Saeyoung! You don't know shit!"

Saeyoung laughed hysterically, falling into the world's comfiest couch as Yoosung got changed, the birthday boy feeling proud that he'd showered the night before so he'd be ready to get his day on with right away.

"Oh Yoosung my boy, I know so much more than you think. MC's favourite colour, for instance."

Yoosung had been two seconds away from slipping his shirt on when he froze at Saeyoung's words, his head popping out of his room to stare his friend down until the older man elaborated.

With a smug smirk, Saeyoung spilt the beans with a terrible vocal mockery of who Yoosung assumed was MC.

"My favourite colour is purple, just like Yoosungie's eyes! They're such a pretty purple too! I'm almost jealous cause he gets to see them every day!"

Yoosung's face was almost a shade darker than Saeyoung's hair by the time his friend finished speaking, unable to really grasp that those words actually came from MC.

"She - she said that? About me?"

Yoosung flinched at how nervous his voice sounded. Saeyoung's grin faltered and he sighed softly, giving his best friend a gentle smile before nodding. "I swear Yoosung, that's what she said. I know how you feel about her bro, I wouldn't screw around with something like that."

Giving Saeyoung a grin, Yoosung then finished getting dressed and before long, both boys were out the door and driving back to the bunker. As Saeyoung parked, Yoosung finished off his coffee - courtesy of the hacker who was tired of hearing his blonde friend yawn every thirty seconds - before tossing the empty cup into the recycling bin, which only existed thanks to MC. Heading inside, Yoosung almost immediately noticed how dark it was and frowned, turning to question Saeyoung who had startlingly disappeared into thin air.

Whipping his head back and forth, Yoosung began to panic, slowly trying to make his way further into the bunker. "Saeyoung, this isn't funny," he started, following the wall the led into the living room.

Once in the room, he let out a shriek as the lights suddenly came on and the whole RFA appeared before him with a shout of,

"Happy birthday!"

He was so startled that he stumbled back, nearly falling to the ground if it hadn't been for MC who moved quickly enough to catch his hand and steady him. She tugged him to her and into a tight hug, trying to quiet her laughter as she pressed a kiss to his temple.

"Happy birthday Yoosung," she murmured to him, unfazed by how beet red his face was from his near death experience - at least that's what he would call it.

She moved away to let the rest of the members wish him birthday wishes, giving him their gifts and birthday cards, which he excitedly accepted with gracious thanks. Before long, everyone was digging into breakfast and lunch foods, thanks to some hookups MC had with her dearest friend Jumin who couldn't ever say no to her.

After food was eaten and presents were opened, everyone eventually said their goodbyes and made their ways home, leaving the twins, Yoosung and MC in the bunker. The rest of the day consisted of terrible scary movies (that somehow actually scared Yoosung), junk food and left over goodies from earlier.

It was nearing supper time now and MC found herself cleaning up the mess from the party and whatever leftovers remained, getting everything put away and tidy in less than an hour with Vanderwood's help. She threw the ex agent a grateful look who gave her a small smile and a nod in return before making his way to the garage. Smoke time, probably.

Saeyoung and Yoosung were head to head against each other in Smash Brothers, Saeran having retired to his room probably while she had been cleaning, which left open a perfect butt-shaped spot right beside Yoosung. Silently making her way over to them with her gift, she sat beside Yoosung who was too into the game to notice but she did catch the wink Saeyoung threw her way. Sneaky little bastard.

"Oh-oh Oh!! Yes!!"

Yoosung shot up like a bullet from the couch, hands raised in the air as if he'd won a gold metal, wearing the widest grin that either of the members had ever seen on him. He danced in his spot, causing MC to burst out laughing which caused him to freeze and slowly turn his head to look at her.

"... how long have you been there?" He'd asked the question so quietly she almost didn't hear him, giving him The Look before pulling him back down to the couch.

"Oh don't look so embarrassed! You kicked Saeyoung's ass, you're allowed to celebrate and be happy!"

Speaking of, Saeyoung rose from the couch with a yawn before gently tossing his controller down beside Yoosung on the couch. "Eh, sorry guys, I forgot I had some shit I wanted to finish - you're more than welcome to stay, the spare bedroom is all set up if you do stay." MC couldn't tell if this was a ploy or if the hacker was genuinely tired. Either way, she thanked him to high heavens and back for the chance to be with Yoosung for a bit.

Waving at the two, Saeyoung made his way to his computer room and shut the door, whistling a happy tune that caused both on the couch to roll their eyes. After a moment, MC took Yoosungs hands before placing a medium sized package in his palms, a card taped to the top that had his name written elegantly across it. He looked to her, surprised, but she simply shook her head, motioning for him to open the gift. She sat silently, almost nervously as he placed the card aside before ripping away at the wrapping, her thumbs twiddling in her own lap to keep her from bouncing her leg anxiously.

The moment the box was open, she knew she'd made the right choice. A rare LOLOL figure sat inside the box, along with a new pin for his sweater that held a phrase from the game, and a knitted scarf that matched the colour scheme of his avatar. His mouth dropped open in silent excitement and before she knew it, the box was placed beside the card and she was pulled into a surprisingly strong embrace, which she returned whole heartedly. He was shaking in her grasp, causing her to try and pull back to look at him but he only held her tighter, sniffling softly as he hid his face in the crook of her neck. She felt moisture and knew right away he was crying. She rubbed his back lovingly, a small smile on her lips as she gently asked,

"Why are you crying honey?"

For a while, there was only silence from him. The near-graduation student simply held tight, almost as if she'd disappear from him if he let go. Then, softly, he finally murmured to her,

"I'm crying because you listen to me... I'm crying because you always know what I'm looking for... I'm crying because my heart has so much love for you that I'm scared I'll lose you and I don't even have you."

MC's eyes widened, her hands stilling on his back as she took in the gravity of his words. He... loved her? Her? Of all people? She forced Yoosung to look at her, her eyes trying looking to his, though it was hard when he refused to make direct eye contact.

"Please look at me," she begged quietly, surprised when he immediately gave her all his attention, though his face was dark red. Searching his expression for any form of dishonesty, it only took a moment as she found none and couldn't stop the flow of tears that began.

"You- you really love me?"

Yoosungs brows furrowed worriedly. Why was she crying?! Was it bad that he had feelings for her? He then stopped and thought back to his apartment, his brows furrowing further as he remembered smelling MC on Saeyoung when he hugged him... no. Don't think like that, Saeyoung wouldn't do that to you, he's your best friend-

"I've been waiting so long to hear you say that."

Yoosungs brain froze as their eyes made contact once more. His expression was blank, almost hysterically so, as he slowly asked,

"... what?"

MC giggled under her breath, albeit a bit nervously, before gently grabbing his face and pulling him into the best kiss he'd ever gotten. And considering it was his first real kiss, he knew that it didn't matter how many times he'd kiss her, that first one changed his life forever. When she pulled back, he only gave her a moment before pulling her into his lap, one hand on her hip and the other in her hair as his lips found hers once more. A few moments passed before either pulled away this time, breathing a little heavy as their foreheads met one another's.

"MC,"

Her eyes met his vibrant purple ones and she smiled, the sight causing his heart to melt on the spot.

"Yes, my wonderful birthday man?"

He grinned in response and gave her another kiss, this one quicker but none less loving before he thanked her,

"Thank you for giving me the best birthday ever. I love you."

She gave a watery chuckle as tears began again, causing Yoosung to repeat the sound himself before they kissed once more, holding each other tightly like a puzzle fitting together. "I love you," she whispered into the kiss, pulling back only to dive in and give him kiss after kiss after kiss.

"Happy birthday Yoosung. I can't wait to see what next year will bring for you."

#mandiespeaks #mandiewrites #yoosung kim #mysme yoosung #mysme writings #oh my god i did it guys #i did the fucking thing #im going to try and put a readmore but since im on mobile it may not work #but i swear im tryin !#whew oh god ok now to get my hands to stop shaking 😂😂😂#my birthday booiiiiiii #happy birthday yoosung!!!

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ixvyupdates · 6 years

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What Happens When Even the ‘Best’ Neighborhood School Treats Its Students With Disabilities Horribly?

The New York Post recently profiled Wesley Clark, a 9-year-old fourth-grader at PS 8 in Brooklyn Heights. The article describes a “supposedly progressive Brooklyn Heights public school that talks a good game about inclusion but is purposely neglecting their child to try to get him to leave.”

Could this be true? Bewildered, I gave Wesley’s mom, Kim Williams Clark, a call. After all, federal law requires that students with disabilities be educated in the “least restrictive environment” and for Wesley that environment is his neighborhood school.

Here is an edited version of our conversation.

What were the first obstacles you faced in your efforts to secure an inclusive education for Wesley?

Early on, we lived in New York City. When Wesley was just shy of 1 year old my ex-husband, Lee Wesley Clark, Esq., and I enrolled him in a daycare center. Wesley was in the infant room with typically developing babies.

One day I got a call from a daycare staffer, who told me that after dropping off Wesley to return earlier than usual and “go straight to the basement.” The basement? When I went downstairs, there was Wesley, sitting alone with a receptionist, totally isolated from the other children. It was horrible.

As a lawyer, you want to sue. As a parent, you want to cry. It was at that moment our lives were forever changed. When I looked at Wesley, I saw a loving child who, with supports, could achieve great things. But others’ perceptions were vastly different.

What did you do?

Eventually, we moved to New Jersey and found a daycare that treated Wesley like they treated “every other child.” Wesley just flourished. He started to read and write. After aging out of that program Wesley attended our local public school in Montclair where he was placed in general education classroom with full inclusive supports. He excelled academically and socially.

And so Wesley had appropriate services that allowed him to be educated with his typical peers. You are so committed to integrated classrooms that you even founded a nonprofit to advocate for inclusive practices, right?

Yes, we hope to change the way that Wesley and children with disabilities are treated, so they will be able to obtain the inclusive services that they are entitled to. In order to make this happen I started Inclusion Works, which has partnered with a variety of community organizations in New Jersey, New York and abroad.

Why did you leave Montclair?

We decided to go back to our Brooklyn roots. Wesley was 8 years old and the timing seemed right. We specifically chose Brooklyn Heights because the neighborhood school there, PS 8, has a program called Integrated Collaborative Teaching that uses a model of team teaching with a general education teacher and a special education teacher. Everything seemed fine. When we enrolled, we turned over Wesley’s IEP (Individualized Education Plan) from Montclair because, by law, PS 8 has to provide comparable services until implementation of a new IEP.

And that’s when things went bad.

What went wrong?

We’ve been waiting over one year for an IEP which is generally completed within 60 days from enrollment. But Wesley hasn’t received any academic support. The school has refused to implement the services.

Wesley is non-verbal but communicates with an augmentative communication device and through sign language. Yet his device is not used properly during the school day and the school has neglected to schedule training for the support team. Other crucial therapies were excessively delayed.

It’s so disappointing that in 2018 some folks are intolerant of children with disabilities. These children didn’t choose the disability; the disability chose them. As parents, it’s a constant struggle to obtain services. What is most egregious for us is that the services we’re asking PS 8 and the New York City Department of Education (DOE) to provide for Wesley are already in his IEP and the DOE’s Comparable Service Plan. Yet the school is refusing to give them to us. That’s illegal!

What prompted you to bring Wesley’s story to the media?

We need help and we believe that there are other parents who may have similar experiences. We also would like to encourage people to join us in our fight for Wesley! We would like school districts to be more sensitive to the needs of children with disabilities.

In this instance, Wesley needs an aide to manage his needs. She was wonderful but the principal, for “budgetary reasons,” assigned a new aide. One day I went to pick up Wesley from the after-school program and I was stopped by a classmate who told me that Wesley seemed very sad. Then the children told me that they saw Wesley’s aide dragging him up several flights of stairs while he was squealing in pain.

As a result of Wesley’s Down Syndrome, he has a heart condition with instructions for elevator use since he gets winded. And now we have this aide who is actually assaulting him.

Then why do you still want Wesley to remain at PS 8? And why do you think that the school is trying to get you to push him out and place him in a more restrictive setting?

PS 8 is the highest rated district school and the only inclusive school, right in our Brooklyn Heights neighborhood. There’s a sign at the school that says there’s “No Place for Hate.” I don’t know if the school realizes that by discriminating against a child with a disability they are creating a place for hate. We want to change this. I still want Wesley there. He has a wonderful cohort of children and parents around him who are loving and protective.

We have been asked by school district officials to consider transferring Wesley. We suggested that the leadership transfer to another school—because our child is entitled to a public education! While the school has access to the academic supports needed for Wesley to excel, they are resistant to providing them.

We’re so tired of being pushed around. We’re tired of being bullied.

The easiest thing for me would be to say, “I quit.” But I can’t quit on Wesley, this sweet and wonderful child. He doesn’t deserve this. As long as I have breath I will fight for his right to be included because I see how he lights up when he’s around his friends. They don’t have the right to take away his light!

Our goal is to ensure that Wesley receives his services in an inclusive environment. We are sharing our story because we know that other parents may be suffering in silence. If you are out there, we stand with you! To the educators, we ask you to stand with us in our struggle toward equity and access to a quality inclusive education for youth of all abilities.

An original version of this post appeared on New York School Talk as “As A Parent, You Want to Cry. As A Lawyer, You Want to Sue.” A Special Needs Mom Fights for Her Son’s Inclusion in his Brooklyn School..

Photo courtesy of New York School Talk.

What Happens When Even the ‘Best’ Neighborhood School Treats Its Students With Disabilities Horribly? syndicated from https://sapsnkraguide.wordpress.com

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ixvyupdates · 6 years

Text

What Happens When Even the ‘Best’ Neighborhood School Treats Its Students With Disabilities Horribly?

Here is an edited version of our conversation.

What were the first obstacles you faced in your efforts to secure an inclusive education for Wesley?

What did you do?

Why did you leave Montclair?

And that’s when things went bad.

What went wrong?

What prompted you to bring Wesley’s story to the media?

As a result of Wesley’s Down Syndrome, he has a heart condition with instructions for elevator use since he gets winded. And now we have this aide who is actually assaulting him.

Then why do you still want Wesley to remain at PS 8? And why do you think that the school is trying to get you to push him out and place him in a more restrictive setting?

We’re so tired of being pushed around. We’re tired of being bullied.

Photo courtesy of New York School Talk.

What Happens When Even the ‘Best’ Neighborhood School Treats Its Students With Disabilities Horribly? syndicated from https://sapsnkraguide.wordpress.com

0 notes

ixvyupdates · 6 years

Text

What Happens When Even the ‘Best’ Neighborhood School Treats Its Students With Disabilities Horribly?

Here is an edited version of our conversation.

What were the first obstacles you faced in your efforts to secure an inclusive education for Wesley?

What did you do?

Why did you leave Montclair?

And that’s when things went bad.

What went wrong?

What prompted you to bring Wesley’s story to the media?

As a result of Wesley’s Down Syndrome, he has a heart condition with instructions for elevator use since he gets winded. And now we have this aide who is actually assaulting him.

Then why do you still want Wesley to remain at PS 8? And why do you think that the school is trying to get you to push him out and place him in a more restrictive setting?

We’re so tired of being pushed around. We’re tired of being bullied.

Photo courtesy of New York School Talk.

What Happens When Even the ‘Best’ Neighborhood School Treats Its Students With Disabilities Horribly? syndicated from https://sapsnkraguide.wordpress.com

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