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crow-rodriguez · 9 days

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Chapter Nine: Life Goes On

*Trigger Warning: drug addiction*

A few months later, June came and that meant there were only two weeks left of school. That also meant that I only had two weeks left before I was sent away to a conversion camp that would, in my mother’s words, “fix me and beat the gayness out of me”.

I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling when I reached for my bottle of pills. Opening it, I realized I was out. At first, I thought I'd be okay, but soon after, I began to feel shaky and broke into a cold sweat. Panic set in. I remembered Finneley had given me his number last week as a backup. I quickly dialed and arranged to meet him in an alleyway. I had a check for thirty-thousand dollars in my pocket, money I'd saved up, ready to buy five months' worth of pills. I felt desperate, trapped in a cycle where I needed the pills just to feel normal.

I saw him walk over to me with a sly smirk, “damn, you look like shit. You got the money?” he asked me, I said nothing as I handed him the check and got the bottles of pills, “pleasure doing business with you, Rodri,” he told me as he walked away. I quickly popped one of the pills and started on my way home to pack my bags. I was hoping the supply I bought would be enough to get through the summer. I went to my room when I got home and packed my bags, making sure to hide all the bottles of pills under my clothes so that they wouldn’t be heard or seen.

After packing, I grabbed my phone and earbuds before I went to catch the city bus to see RaeLynn. She was leaving for a trip to Massachusetts that night so I had to say goodbye to her before she left. I arrived at her house and saw Raymodn and Officer Lopez, whose name I learned was Scott, playing video games and sharing some beers while Violetta was sitting on the couch and playing with the bear that Ethan had bought her for Christmas. The two had become quite close in recent months and had seemed to become a part of Raymond and Raelynn’s family. I walked up the stairs, skipping the broken step that looked like Someone had fallen through it. I walked into her room, smiling as I plopped onto her bed, “Lukas isn’t here. Is he visiting your mom?” I asked, looking at her.

She nodded, typing viciously on her laptop. I looked over and saw she was writing a book, “yeah, he is. My mom is refusin’ to be left behind while Rayme and I go to meet Dean Kharuna and check out my dorm buildin’ for when I graduate next year,” she explained.

I nodded, remembering that in a year from now, my beautiful girlfriend would be graduating a year before me and I would be left all alone in this town with nobody but my parents who hate me. My heart broke a bit as I thought about how I’d be alone, “I mean, I understand why. You’re going to another state for two months and basically getting a test run for what your life will be like when you’re an Ivy League student,” I said, smiling as I sat up. I leaned toward her and kissed her temple, “I can’t believe that in a year from now, I’ll be the girlfriend of an Ivy League Girl,” I whispered to her.

RaeLynn’s face turned red, a small squeak escaped her as she hid her face, “Val!! You are too much of a flirt!” she said as she looked at me.

I smirked, “I have to make sure that none of those Ivy League hotties steal you from me because of how smart and hot they are,” I said as I caressed her face. I felt so in love with this woman.

Two weeks later, I was on the phone with RaeLynn and I was listening to her as she gushed to me about her time in Massachusetts so far, “and I gotta get anythin’ I’d like from the mess hall, it’s so big and, honestly it kind of looks like the Hogwarts mess hall from the Harry Potter movies,” she told me over the phone.

“That sounds cool, I’ll have to visit you so I can see that in person once you’re a student there,” I told her, she and I had only been dating a year but I could see a future with this adorable girl, “how many people have actually that you’re a current student there?” I asked her out of pure and morbid curiosity.

She giggled, “I’ve been invited to like three frat parties, and a sorority actually asked me to join,” she told me, “I told them that I’d think about it and get back to them when I’m officially goin’ here, a lot of guys have thought my heterochromia is hot too,” I could tell she was only saying that last bit to make me jealous.

“I mean, they aren’t wrong. But they aren’t going to have a chance with you, Bunny. You’re mine for good,” I told her as I sat at the bus stop, waiting for the bus to the conversion camp to pick me and my fellow prisoners up. I wasn’t planning on actually letting any of their tactics work, nothing could fix my sexuality. I sighed as I thought about what might happen to me over these three months, “what do you think they’ll do to me at the camp, Lynnie?” I asked her, trying to hide the fact that I was terrified.

“I don’t know, but I’ve done my research and that camp is already under investigation and it’s really not supposed to be open. So if you’d like, I can call it into the cops and report the camp for bein’ open while it’s actively bein’ investigated for battery, assault, child abuse, and molestation of child,” she told me, her explanation sadly didn’t relieve my fear at all.

I smiled at her words slightly, “go ahead, but I better not get molested before the police come to shut this place down,” I told her then saw the bus approaching, “i gotta go. I love you,” I told her before I hung up the phone and got onto the bus. I sat down and opened my Google Docs app, choosing one of RaeLynn’s manuscripts so I had something to keep my thoughts from racing during this ride.

About an hour and a half into the drive, the girl next to me tapped me on the shoulder, “hey, whatcha readin’? The girl asked me as I looked at her, she had blonde hair and blue eyes. She kind of reminded me of Sharpay Evans from the High School Musical movies.

I didn’t know whether I should trust her so I decided to lie, “none of your damned business, Blondie,” I said bitterly, my stare turned into a glare. I could feel the pills losing effect which meant a withdrawal would happen, I was screwed until our next pit stop.

“Fair enough, I’m Saige. Nice to meet you,” she said, holding her hand out for me to shake.

I hesitated then shook her hand, “Valentina,” I mumbled as I looked away, “I’m reading a friend's manuscript, she’s an author,” I said, not wanting any of the camp counselors to hear me refer to RaeLynn as my girlfriend.

“An author? Nice, what type of shit does she write?” Saige asked, smiling a bit.

“Romance, fantasy, some suspense. She’s really talented,” I said, smiling a bit as I thought about RaeLynn. She was going to be the only reason I endured the torture this camp was about to put me through, “she’s going to Harvard in a year. She’s gonna graduate a year early,” I said, wanting to brag to anybody who’d listen that I was dating an Ivy League student in a year. I was so proud of RaeLynn.

Saige nodded, “nice. I couldn’t date an Ivy League student, it sounds so stressful. I mean, going to a highly regarded university comes with high expectations,” she told me, her voice had a familiar rasp and crack to it that I was very familiar with. It was the same rasp and crack that Ethan and I had to our voices, this girl was a fellow nicotine smoker, suddenly her voice became a whisper to keep counselors from hearing her, “if I were you, I’d break up with her before she finds someone who’s more on her level, cause you and I definitely aren’t on her level if she’s already promised a spot at an Ivy League school,” she whispered, making me think slightly.

I shrugged, “RaeLynn isn’t the type to see someone as less than, she’s got a heart of gold and a mind of titanium,” I said as I saw another message from her, smiling as I messaged her back.

Mi Conejita

Vaal!!! Pick a number between 1-10

Why do I need to pick a number, MI Amor?

It’s how many books I’m buying with

you’re dad’s credit card, E let Rayme borrow it :)

Lol. alright then, tell Rayme that I say hi for me por favor

Will do, V! Love youuuu! <3

Love you too, Mi Amor.

I didn’t even realize that Saige was looking over my shoulder until she laughed a bit and almost snorted, “wow, your friend is really interesting,” she told me before she got up and left the bus since we were at a rest stop.

I rolled my eyes and got up, getting into my bag and grabbing my pills before I popped a few into my mouth. I then walked off the bus after hiding my pills again, hearing the counselors talk about how me and the other campers should enjoy this hour-long stop while we could because it was the last stop before we were going to be forced to repent. I went to the vending machines, grabbing my wallet out before I bought myself a Blue Balls Raspberry Buster and a bag of chips. I sat down on a bench and called Ethan to see how he was.

“What’s up, Birdbrain?” He asked as he answered, his voice seemed to help me calm down a bit.

I sighed, “I’m scared, what if I’m not the same person when I come back home?” I asked as I cracked my Buster open and took a sip.

Ethan took a deep breath and his voice became serious, “Li’l Baby,” he started, calling me by the nickname he used to call me when I was a kid. He only called me that when he was being serious, “you have been through so much and you are still the same goofy and amazing person you’ve always been. I highly doubt that those bible fucking hicks are gonna break you. You’re too tough to be broken, but if you need me to bail you out, I can do an impression of dad and come get you when you arrive at the camp,” he told me.

I smiled, feeling tears prickling at my eyes, “thanks, E. I’ll call you if I need you,” I told him, my voice breaking slightly before the call ended and I had to head back to the bus.

Thirty minutes later, the bus stopped and we were at the camp. I looked around as I walked to my assigned cabin. I sighed as I entered the cabin and saw that it was full of girls who were likely in a similar situation to me. I set my bag onto one of the bottom bunks, knowing that I could only use the bottom bunk since my leg wouldn’t be able to handle climbing up and down the ladder. I walked out of my cabin and looked around, my eyes widening when I saw Danyol Williamson walk out of one of the boys’ cabins. I was shocked. He was gay? I walked over to him, “Dannii, you’re gay?” I asked him.

He looked at me and shrugged, “I’m bi, and Twospirit,” he told me, “my dad sent me here,” he added as he looked ashamed of himself.

“My mom sent me here,” I said as I felt a little less alone with him also being here. He and I sat down, talking a bit as I asked him questions about himself, “what’s Twospirit?” I asked him as I looked at him, his deep, expressionless eyes staring at me with such an unreadable gaze that it felt like the expressive, lively man that I’d known since middle school had disappeared.

He looked at me as he explained it, “it’s basically the way my people say they’re lesbian, gay, or transgender,” he said as he looked away, “my dad says that me being this way is unbecoming of his child,”

I sighed, “why do parents have to suck so bad? Why don’t they just love us because we’re their children?” I asked as my thoughts shifted to KelHani and the way she had started to heal her relationship with her mother, Brianna, before she died. Her and Brianna were hanging out every weekend and I was even planning to meet Brianna but KelHani died and it never felt right to do so.

Danyol laughed, “yeah, it’d be great if my dad could get his head out of his ass and be a parent instead of being a dictator. But that isn’t likely to happen,” he said then smiled at me, “y’know you’re less annoying than I thought you were,”

#authors #my writing #creative writing

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returntosaturn271995 · 10 months

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Wednesday, July 12th: Cold Showers

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: no attempt to improve your life goes unpunished. By that I mean I almost- key word almost - shat myself at the beach today.

Let me rewind, after a solid 8 am therapy session where I did not cry and mostly expressed a pleasant boredom (also known as peace to healthy people), I decided to keep the productiveness moving by going on a jog/walk (mistake number one). Then instead of coffee I chose to get a chai tea latte (mistake number two), where in line I heard a fabulous black woman say in to her phone:

“Uh-uh, you’re trying to flip the script before I even laid the script down”

Which is a comeback I can’t use, but a sentiment I’d like more people to have.

Well much like my Starbuck’s co-customer, indeed the script was then flipped on me before I had time to lay my healthy jog down and I was forced to use the horrifying nightmare that is the beach bathrooms on Diamond st. There was no time to enjoy the fresh air and ocean views today as I bow-leggedly ran home. Although it did have the side effect of me meeting my 1% better exercise goal.

From there I took a freezing cold shower and a shameful nap, waking only to apply to five jobs (one of whom rejected me before the day ended) and confirm with mom that I’ll be cat sitting for Lauren while they’re in Hawaii.

That did not stop a bitch though.

Reading: Another 2 chapters of “Kasher in the Rye”, we’re about to hit the teen years and this motherfucker is batshit. I also plan to download some vintage writers like Dorothy Parker and “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” by Milan Kundera.

Writing: Today’s joke-thought: “I told me therapist and she sprayed me with a water bottle”

Cooking: Glad you asked. Oregano Chicken & Olive Tapenade with Orzo, Snap Peas & Feta. My apoligies to all the Greek Yayas out there. My Tapenade was lowkey tapen-bad. But still tasted amazing.

Political Awareness: The writers are still on strike. As deeply cynical as the studios’ “Let’s starve the writers until they cave” strategy is, they clearly did not account for the fact that writers are already used to living on a shoestring, which is, you know, how they ended up on strike in the first place.

Loving Relationships: Connected with Kiera over her shitty LA bestie (the one who had magazines of herself on her own table). Mckenna looks like she’s likely to move in. Kelly’s BF will be in town Saturday and Jenna is throwing a bonfire to welcome him. Seeing Sarah’s new place Thursday. Pride is this weekend! Whoop whoop!

Getting Outside: Yeah. I think I mentioned the beach. I want to dunk my head at some point now that it’s hot out.

Dressing with Style: Ordered a cute shirt for pride. Today I mostly lounged around in a white tank top and black and white floral drawstring shorts.

Cleaning: Dusted the bedside table and the alarming amount of grime beneath it.

Organization: Checked on rent check, made sure Kate was down to unbox my grocery delivery while I’m out of town.

Yoga: 13 minutes plus some extra leg stretches. I did not feel like more exercise today, but consistency is key. It’s how I’m able to put my hands flat on the floor from a standing position whenever I so desire.

Meditation: Doing nothing is important. It allows more life in. 8 min.

Healthy living: Sunscreen, new seaweed body wash, drank collagen, no alcohol on the week days, filled up water bottle.

New experience: Hm. Watching new shows, reading new books, and I’ve never made Greek pasta before? Or made an 8 am therapy session before. Or taken a shower with absolutely no warm water on purpose before.

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gender-euphowrya · 3 years

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transmasc 🤝 transfem solidarity is so fucking beautiful y’all

#so i watched that talk show w/ trans guests with my mom #went well !! there’s still some things that are confusing to her and she’s still a bit shook about y’know. Me.#but otherwise it was cool it was super well made actually like the show host was so respectful #and they interviewed france’s first openly trans mayor #and a younger trans guy whose mom wrote a book about how she learned to support her kid #the mom was also there and damn she was Educated lmao she used words like misgendering and deadname #which… isn’t that impressive ig but coming from a prev generation cis person who used to know Nothing it’s neat #so yeah i also told mom about like… another book i’d heard about #a comic w/ a mom who learns her ‘daughter’ is actually her son and how it’s hard for her at first #y’know stuff i’d have rolled my eyes at before lmao #but i guess it is helpful for people like my mom who need guidance on how to handle all that #and how to reach a point where you’re happy and ready to fully support your kid #like where it no longer requires effort or ‘discomfort’ to like… call your kid the right name or sthg #mom has still been calling me by my deadname but she said that like #she didn’t mean to it’s just well she’s been calling me that for 24 years y’know #so the habit’s hard to get rid of but like she catches on to the fact that she used the wrong name #she’s aware she makes the mistake and she’s working on fixing it #baby steps baby steps. i’m patient with her rn because i know it’s a lot for her #but god DAMN does it feel good to have all that out there and know things are going forward

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prismatic-bell · 3 years

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So the other day I said a thing about how I felt like a line could be drawn between antis, and the rise of 24-hour news networks. I’ve given that thought some time to bubble to see what, exactly, my brain meant by that statement, and here’s what I’ve got:

When I was a kid (back in Ye Olde 1990s), we had three major news stations in my town: Channel 12, Channel 24, and Channel 35. These corresponded to NBC, ABC, and CBS, but I don’t remember which one was which so don’t ask me. Anyway--you had a half hour of news at 8 or 9 am (depending on which station you watched), an hourlong program at noon in which half the program was stuff like “here are today’s beach closures and some recipes and also if you’re looking for stuff to do with the kids this weekend here are local promotions,” and half an hour at either 5, 5:30, or 6 (again, depending on which channel you watched). One of the three stations also did a half-hour capper at 10pm. So unless you were watching all three stations, and picking the news every single time, the max amount of news you were going to get was like an hour and a half. If you wanted more news than that, you read the newspaper. When my mom was a kid (back in Ye Olde 1960s), this would have seemed like an inordinate amount of news--for her, it was half an hour at 6pm and ten minutes at 10pm and then the station (there was only one station that did the news) played the National Anthem and went off the air until 6am, at which time you might get like . . . the weather and a traffic report.

For anything else, you read the newspaper.

Now with only half an hour to present a whole lot of news, what are you going to do? You are going to stick to the facts. You don’t have a choice. You have a very short time to fit a whole lot of information. “Notre Dame cathedral caught on fire today. French firefighters are working to get the flames under control, and authorities in charge of the cathedral are doing their best to remove relics, paintings, and other holy objects while it’s still possible. French President Mr. Somebody addressed the nation and stated every attempt to save the building, and to rebuild the damage, will be made. In local news . . . “ And that’s it! If you want more information, you’ve got to wait for the newspaper in the morning, and you’re going to have to get a copy of the New York Times or USA Today, because the local paper will only have a blurb, and that blurb will mostly cover what you just heard!

But then the news changed.

By the time I was a teenager, the non-cable news looked like this: All three channels had a morning show that started at 5 or 6 am (depending on your station) and ran until 8 or 9 (depending on your station). The station that ended at 8am then had a half-hour morning news show. The mid-day news at 11 or 12 was still an hour. Channel 35 did a half-hour news segment at 5 and another at 5:30, back to back. The other two stations simply did an hourlong segment. And then one station did half an hour at 10:30, and the other two did hourlong segments at 10pm.

What do you do with that much time? Well, you expand. Yes, you can fit more news, but you can also fit more about the news. “Notre Dame cathedral in Paris went up in flames today. The fire began in the famous historic bell tower, and spread to the roof. At this time, portions of the roof appear to have caved in, and there are concerns about the integrity of the medieval stonework in the cathedral walls. French firefighters have been working since 8am Paris time to get the flames under control, and authorities in charge of the cathedral are doing their best to remove relics, paintings, and other holy objects while it’s still possible. Some firefighters are also helping with this project, as portions of the building have become too unsafe to enter. French President Mr. Somebody addressed the nation late this evening and stated every attempt to save the building, and to rebuild the damage, will be made. Of the cathedral itself, Somebody said, ‘Our Lady has weathered worse troubles than this. Paris as a city, and France as a nation, will overcome.’ In local news . . . ”

Still facts, but a few more facts. At this point the internet as a public thing is just past its infancy, and in theory you could go look up some stuff on, like, AOL, maybe, about what was happening.

(Nina, you were talking about antis . . . ?)

(Yes, I was. Bear with me.)

But at this point you also saw the rise of Fox News and CNN.

Now up to this point, I could trust the news. That is important to know. “Nina, American news is full of propaganda--” Listen, you’re not wrong, but the point is, if Scott Brennan told me Notre Dame cathedral was on fire and priests were trying to remove the holy relics, I could safely assume Notre Dame cathedral was on fire and priests were trying to remove the holy relics. If Channel 24 told me “the blizzard of the century” had occurred the night before, I could look out the window of my snowed-in house and go “yeah, that seems legit.”

I grew up, in other words, in a world in which facts were facts. We didn’t waffle or wring our hands over whether or not Notre Dame was on fire. And this allowed me to take a similar approach to fiction: it is a fact that murder is wrong, and knowing this, I can read a book in which someone commits murder for very good reasons, but still know they did something wrong.

But now you have 24 hours of news to fill.

No matter how you pad it, no matter how many voice clips you play or retrospectives you do, you cannot find enough news in the world to fill 24 hours, seven days a week, 365 days a year. You just can’t.

So they started adding “opinion pieces.”

Notre Dame is on fire--is it worth saving? Notre Dame is on fire--but is it as big a catastrophe as it’s made out to be? Notre Dame is on fire--but France has been steadily calling themselves a secular nation, so is this the punishment of G-d? Notre Dame is on fire--

--wait, what was that?

Yep. You saw it, I saw it, we all saw it. But as the “opinion pieces” slowly took over the regular news and stopped being called “opinion pieces” and started being called “programs,” it became less and less clear what was and wasn’t fact.

Now obviously Notre Dame is on fire. But now we have to ask ourselves: is it worth it to save it or not? Is the financial cost outweighed by the history? Will those answers change depending on how bad the damage becomes? And you, lonely elderly person in your chair whose predominant socialization these days is at church, how does this make you feel about French people? These are questions that once would have been asked of the church caretakers and the French government. Now every single person is being asked to think about them, without being provided all of the context that is available to the church caretakers and the French government. And along the way, you get these nice, nasty little bits of prejudice and slanted thinking and bias sneaked in.

I told you I’d come back to antis. And here we are.

The vast majority of antis are very young. They grew up in a world where those “programs” were the norm. They were not provided with a cultural basis of “these are the facts.” They were provided a basis of “here is what I think about the facts.” They were provided a basis of, as Mr. Banks said in Mary Poppins, “kindly do not cloud the matter with facts.”

There are no facts! Who fucking cares! An anti who’s 15 years old today was eleven years old when we were introduced to “alternative facts”! Is it wrong for a 27-year-old man to pursue a relationship with a 13-year-old girl? Depends on which news channel, and which presenter, you ask!

They literally grew up in a world in which critical thinking was discouraged. Once upon a time, you would have seen on TV that Notre Dame was on fire, and at dinner--or whatever your family did for together time--you might say things like “going to be expensive to fix that, I wonder what they’ll do,” but you wouldn’t have been hit with six presenters telling you exactly why Notre Dame should/shouldn’t be rebuilt. And don’t forget--even if you, personally, do not watch the news (or read it on the internet, which is just as bad, because everybody’s after those elusive advertising clicks, everybody needs the “scoop” two seconds before it happens), you know people who do. You hear their opinions and their hot takes and their retellings all around you. And those opinions and hot takes and retellings will be colored by which “program” that person saw first.

Watch the first thirty seconds of this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dn2RjahTi3M

Walter Cronkite, a legendary news anchor, giving his opinion on Vietnam. You will notice that he states, very clearly: “it seems very clear to this reporter.” This is Cronkite’s opinion, nothing more, and he makes it clear that he is speaking only for himself.

Now skip to approximately 1:05, and watch him report the Kennedy assassination. You can see he’s emotional, but also keeping it under wraps as best he can because he has An Important Job To Do, and that job is twofold: to deliver the news accurately and concisely, and to keep the American public calm (you can see this when he hurriedly says Johnson is probably taking the oath to become President; a missing VP would be a crisis at this moment). This is a man who’s just found out the most beloved president in modern times is dead. And not just dead--murdered. It’s not like Kennedy had a heart attack, his damn head was blown off. This news is still coming in so quickly that you can see him glancing off the screen to get fresh reports. He’s one of the first to receive this absolute blow--and he’s still holding it together, barely wavering. (When I was a kid, this role would go to Dan Rather. He was no Cronkite, but he tried.)

Where is that kind of rock for today’s teens? Imagine--heaven forbid, in the state our country’s in right now--that tomorrow we get the news Biden was shot.

How would we get that message?

Would it be delivered by an even-keeled, just-the-facts reporter like Cronkite? Or would we get it from a bunch of half-hysterical articles and crisismongering “programs”? And would it be delivered to us straight, like Cronkite did, or would it be buried in three days’ worth of opinions on his “legacy” and policies and What This Means For America?

Now: how are you supposed to build any kind of strong convictions and moral compass on a world like that? Where anything can be true if enough people have an “opinion” on it? Where the facts get immediately buried in a wave of bullshit?

Antis are reacting to a world of “opinions” and “programs” being thrown at them 24/7 by trying to create a world they can control, where there are in fact things that are true, in a world that has actively refused them the opportunity to learn how to parse and process facts. And so what they’ve come up with is this grossly distorted version of facts, because gross distortions of facts are all they know. It’s all they’ve ever seen. They’re perpetuating a system they don’t even realize they’re part of, because they never experienced life before it existed.

They’re not lying when they say they were heavily influenced by fiction because the bounds between fact and fiction have been actively erased. On purpose. And it’s difficult to grok that, if you grew up in a world where you didn’t have to go seek out photographic evidence to be absolutely certain that Notre Dame was, indeed, on fire.

So what we need to be doing, first and foremost, is rebuilding that wall of facts, that line of truth. Otherwise, what we’re going to see is more of this, but getting worse daily.

We set them up for this, and now we’re paying the price for it.

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sergeantbuckybarnes · 3 years

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everything i wanted // bucky barnes

Summary: Bucky asks you to pick Rebecca from school, as you spend the day with her, you can’t help to think that this is what you want, for the rest of your life.

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader (Single Parent AU)

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @coffee-books-music for proofreading this!

You can consider this as a part two of begin again.

And tagging @buckys-estrella because you asked me to!

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You were in front of the Brooklyn Elementary School waiting for Rebecca, your boyfriend’s daughter. Bucky had called you and told you that something came up at the workshop and he couldn’t pick Becca from school, so he asked you if you could do it. You didn’t mind, you and Bucky had been dating for a while now, since the day you saw him at the diner waiting for a date that never showed up and you decided to be his date instead everything had been perfect.

You met Rebecca a couple of months later. At first, you were nervous, thoughts of her not liking you plagued your mind but Bucky always reassured you that she was going to love you. And he was right. The little girl was delighted with you.

The three of you did a lot of things together, you went to the zoo, to the movies… Bucky couldn’t help himself think that this is how things should have been with Dot. He knew he was a good father and Rebecca loved him a lot but he also knew his little girl needed a mother figure, that’s why he kept going on those dates. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have met you, someone that not only loved him but loved his daughter too.

The bell sounded, announcing the end of the classes for the day. They pushed the front doors of the building open, and you observed kids running out, excited that school was finally over. Your eyes caught the little brunette, she was peacefully walking with a blonde kid beside her.

“Becca!” you tried to catch her attention when you saw she was looking around looking for her father. When her eyes landed on you, a big smile grew on her face.

“Who’s that, Bec?” asked the boy who was still beside her.

“That’s my mom,” Rebecca replied, and with that she ran towards you without bidding goodbye to her friend. You picked her up in your arms, her little arms wrapped around your neck.

You asked, “Had fun at school?” She furiously nodded as she rambled on about what she had done, “…and Miss Larson asked a super hard question and I was the only one who knew the answer.”

“That’s my girl,” you high-fived with her as she laughed.

“Why did you come today?” she asked, tilting her face.

“Your dad is busy at work, so he’s gonna come home late.”

“So you’re gonna stay with me then?” she asked, hope and excitement clear in her voice.

You just nodded and she let a victorious sound escape her mouth. You laughed putting her on the ground and grabbed her tiny hand in yours. “Ready to go home?”

It was late at night when Bucky came home, when he noticed you weren’t in the living room he made his way upstairs to see the adorable image of you and Becca sitting on her bed, his daughter between your legs while you brushed her hair.

Neither of you had noticed his presence yet, he smiled at the view in front of him, how comfortable you were with each other, it was so natural. The thought of coming home every day to this filled his heart with warmth.

Knock Knock

“Daddy!” Rebecca screamed when she saw her father on the doorstep of her room, but she didn’t run and jump into his arms like she would normally do.

“What? No hug today?” Bucky pouted, which made his little girl giggle.

Rebecca pinched her nose with her fingers “You stink, daddy!”

Bucky gasped with fake offense and averted his gaze to you for support, only to receive a “Don’t look at me, Becca is right.”

Your boyfriend raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, I’ll take a shower, but you, young lady, are going to sleep now,” he said, pointing his index finger towards his daughter.

“But Y/N is brushing my hair!” she whined.

“She can brush your hair another day. You’ve got to wake up early for school tomorrow,”

Rebecca looked up at you, “Can you read to me?”

“Honey, I bet Y/N is tir-” But you didn’t let your boyfriend finish his sentence. “I don’t mind.”

“Yaaay,” the little girl screamed happily. She got up from the bed and ran to get a book.

Your boyfriend gave you a “Are you sure?” look.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, “You go shower.” Bucky nodded and left the room as Rebecca crawled back to bed and handed you a book.

She got under the covers, and you lied beside her, opening the book and started reading. “The little prince. Oh, I love this one.”

Once Rebecca finally fell asleep, you gave her a soft kiss on her forehead and made your way downstairs. Your boyfriend had finished his shower just a few minutes ago, his hair still damp.

“She’s asleep?” he inquired, his arms wrapped around your figure. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, taking in the scent of sandalwood and bergamot. You hummed in response. “Thank you for today.” At this you pulled away from him, looking at his soft features.

“It’s not a problem. You know I love spending time with her.”

“I know. And I love you for that,” he caressed your face and pulled you in again. Joining his lips with yours, your hands reached the back of his neck and you tangled your fingers into his wet hair, earning a low moan from him. You smiled into the kiss, giving him a last peck before pulling apart.

You both sat on the couch, your head resting on Bucky’s shoulder and one of your hands on his round belly, drawing patterns with your fingers. He had one arm safely around you. As you were telling him your day with Becca, he noticed that in the tone of your voice, there was something bothering you in the back of your mind.

“Hey,” he gently grabbed your chin with his free hand and made you look at him. “What’s wrong?”

You licked your lips, a habit you had developed years ago and something you always did when you were nervous. You could feel Bucky’s eyes piercing into yours. A worried expression etched on his features. “Did Becca say something to you?”

You shook your head. Swallowing hard, you tried to find the right words, not wanting your boyfriend to misinterpret what you wanted to convey. “It’s just… today, when I went to pick Becca from school, there was this kid with her and when he asked her who I was, she said that...she said that I was her mom,” You weren’t bothered or mad about the little girl referring to you as her mother but to say it didn’t shock you when you heard the words leave her mouth. Especially because it was the first time she did it.

You loved Rebecca the minute you met her; she was an adorable kid, and you of course you had thought about spending time with Bucky and her for the rest of your life, but you didn’t know if that wasn’t something she wanted, if it was something Bucky wanted. So when you heard the little girl refer to you as her mom, something fluttered inside you.

“Did she?” You could see the slight surprise on his face, but still a large smile grew on Bucky’s face and you felt like you could sigh in relief. He didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Quite the opposite, actually. “How do you feel about it?”

“I- I really liked it,” you shyly admitted, a matching smile growing on your face.

“Yeah?” he asked again. He just needed to be sure, the smile never leaving his face.

“Yeah,” you laughed happily. Bucky caressed your cheek with his thumb, and shifted your position on the sofa a little, to have better access to your lips. It was soft and sweet, nothing in the world existed but you two, you could feel fireworks exploding inside of you. Kissing Bucky always felt special and magical, but this kiss had something different, something you couldn’t explain with words.

“Every time I’m with you, there’s no other place I’d rather be. You are my world, my everything, and I’d love to do nothing more than make you happy. Becca loves you, and she could never have a better mom than you. I love you, Y/N, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So I’m asking...will you marry me?”

#chubby!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

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andreafmn · 3 years

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Collision - Chapter 4

Word Count: 3,821

Characters: Female Reader Uley Character, Sam Uley, Allison Uley, Charlie Swan, Bella Swan, Seth Clearwater, Billy Black, Jacob Black, Emily Young, Paul Lahote, Harry and Sue Clearwater, Leah Clearwater

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Twilight, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The only thing I own is Uley Reader insert, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 4/?

A/N: Don’t know if I ever mentioned it, but the story takes place before New Moon but after Twilight. It starts at the end of May after the dance, so it’d be the summer before Bella’s birthday in September. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 4

The next time she awoke she was back in sight of the blinding hospital lights. Her head was heavily pounding and the clothes on her body felt alien to her. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the white lights of the sanitized room, but they were suddenly off.

“Back again, Miss Uley?” She recognized the voice, Dr. Cullen. “I’ve already turned the lights off so don’t worry about that.”

Her eyes finally opened to reveal the smooth pale face of the doctor. A wave of calmness rushed over her as soon as her eyes connected with his golden ones.

“What can I say?” She chuckled. “I just couldn’t stay away.”

“Well, it seems you’ve been having a recurring headache, insomnia, memory lapses, and a lack of appetite. It looks like post-concussive syndrome. Your mom told us you were feeling like this for a few days, why didn’t you come back?” Carlisle questioned. He was trying his best to look like he was breathing but if he took even a single breath all his years of self-control would be over in an instant.

“I thought if I could just make it to at least seven days it could clear me from coming back to the hospital, at least as a patient.”

“What do you mean?” This comment had perked the interest of the man. Thoughts raced through his head faster than he could analyze them.

“I was thinking of applying for a medical assistant job here in the hospital. I recently got my degree in biology, and I’ve been thinking of going to medical school after.”

“That sounds like a plan, but let’s work on getting you better first.” It did sound like a good plan to Carlisle. He wanted to be as close as possible to her every single day, but it also meant he would have to work triple as hard to control his thirst. “We’d like to keep you for the next few days and make sure you’re in good health before you can go back to business as usual.”

“How long would a few days be?”

“About four to five days, just to make sure that the symptoms don’t worsen, and we can give you an all-clear.” It would also give him a few days to grow accustomed to her smell. “We can work over that application for medical assistant, make sure it’s something you want to do.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” She smiled at the man in front of her, her heart fluttering with every breath she took. “Thank you, Dr. Cullen.”

“Please, call me Carlisle,” he smiled. “Now, why don’t you continue resting, and whatever you need just call. My office is right down the hall, I’ll be here in no time.”

The girl stared at the retreating form of his body and covered the heat that was rising to her face with her pillow. The butterflies in her stomach had made her uneasy and had her hands shaking. She didn’t understand why she was feeling this way. It had only been a week since her first encounter with the doctor, but those few seconds were enough to have her drooling over the man like a lovesick schoolgirl.

A few days had come and gone quickly. (Y/N) had grown attached to Carlisle, seeing and talking to him every day had felt like a dream. In his free time, she would go over to his office and pick a book to read, which they talked about the next day. They spent hours talking about nothing and everything.

It had been a long time since Carlisle had felt this way, centuries. Being around her had gotten easier each day that passed. Her smell becoming comforting instead of a trigger to the endless hunger for human blood – he’d never had a simple drop of it, but nothing could explain how much he wanted to have hers. Getting to know her had been a welcomed activity by the young doctor. He could spend days upon days listening to the sweet sound of her voice, admiring her curious-filled face when she started a new book – which she read swiftly, taking only a couple of hours to finish most of them.

“Can’t believe you have so many first editions, and you leave them at work.” She ran her hand across the spine of Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment. “I would keep them in a well-preserved chamber, and no one would be able to even breathe on them.”

Carlisle smiled as the girl gawked once again at his book collection. It wasn’t hard to acquire first edition novels when you were alive when they were published. “If you’re impressed by this collection, you’d be completely astonished by the one I have back home.”

“You have more?!” He nodded. The girl shined like a kid on Christmas, her eyes gleaming at the thought of a big library. “Oh, that sounds like a dream.”

“You’re more than welcome to come over any time. It’s always refreshing to meet a literature aficionado such as myself.”

“Really? That’d be amazing!” She grinned brightly. “I could spend all day reading, forget about work.”

The duo laughed. “Too late to withdraw the application but you’re always welcome to pass your downtime in my office.”

“Sounds like a plan,’’ she smiled. “Now, doctor, what will you ever do now that I’m not going to be here every day?”

“Oh, how will I ever go on?” He chuckled. “But if you ever need help during that time, just come by. My office is always open. And hopefully, you’ll visit from time to time on personal time.”

“I’m sure it’s something that can be arranged.”

If there was still blood rushing through his veins, the capillaries in his face would have widened. He felt like he now understood Edward; how being with her made him feel human again. And there was nothing more that he wanted than to take their friendship to another level, but he wasn’t sure if she would ever feel the same. Carlisle knew that she was unaware of the supernatural since (Y/N) had allowed him to be in her life. But what would happen once she knew everything? How could he ever come between her and her family?

“Miss Uley, your mother is here,” a nurse spoke up, peeking her head through the office door. “Discharge papers have already been filed.”

“Thank you, Nurse Dalen. She’ll be out in a moment.” Carlisle smiled.

“Well, the time has come.” (Y/N) took her phone out of her back pocket and handed it to the doctor. He looked at her with a question-ridden gaze. “I’m gonna need your phone number so we can arrange any future endeavors.”

“Right,” he laughed, typing his number into her directory. “I’ll be waiting for that call.”

“I’ll be making it soon enough,” she grinned. “I’m gonna go now. I’ll see you around, Cullen.”

“I’ll see you, Uley.”

She left the office with a huge smile on her face, holding her phone close to her chest. For the first time, she was experiencing something she had heard of most of her teenage years. Once she had met Carlisle all she wanted to do was get to know him better, spend her time with him, just being near him would suffice. It was the first time she was learning what falling for someone was, and even though it was scary, she was jumping in headfirst.

“Hi, honey. Ready to go home?” Allison hugged her daughter for the first time in five days. (Y/N) nodded, truly ready to finally sleep on her own bed.

“So, how are you liking Dr. Cullen?”

“MOM!” Allison laughed at her daughter’s reaction. It was easy to see that (Y/N) had taken a liking to Carlisle Cullen, and vice versa.

“What, darling? If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck.”

“It’s not like that, mom.”

“But you’d like it to be like that.”

“I’m not talking about that with my mother.” (Y/N) placed her cold hands on her cheeks, trying to cool down the warm blood that had rushed onto her cheeks. The cool air of the car’s A/C was only helping her so much.

“I just want you to be careful with that, honey. He’s older than you, technically has kids, and rumor has it he is married.”

A breath hitched in her throat. Married? She knew he had adopted five kids, most of them her age, but not that he was married. Had she read the situation wrong? He didn’t wear a ring, he didn’t mention any relationship, he had no pictures of a woman in his office. Then again, they had only spent five days together at the hospital. She didn’t know what he did when he went home at night, who he went home to at night. (Y/N) shouldn’t feel betrayed—they weren’t anything, and they weren’t on track to become anything.

“Don’t worry, mom. I’ve just been picking his brain about working in the hospital, and he’s been helping me with what I’m gonna be doing this summer.”

“Oh, have you decided what you want to do?”

“I’m gonna get my medical assistant certification. It’s a three-month course then I can work at the hospital.”

“That’s great, honey.” Allison smiled at her daughter from the driver’s side. “Is that where you’d see yourself making a career?”

“Not sure. I want to take this time to see if life in a hospital is truly where I’d like to work – see if medical school would be it for me.”

(Y/N) hadn’t taken the time to focus on her future. In her high school career, she spent her time focusing on the present and piling on as much as she could, and now she had no sense of direction. She would take every day as it came, hoping one day she would find her purpose.

Finally, back home, she hopped off the truck and stretched out her limbs, stiff from the days on a hospital bed. Taking a deep breath of fresh air and basking in the afternoon sun. The cold that had seeped into her bones from the hospital melted off, and she smiled feeling the warmth surround her.

“Why don’t you go upstairs, honey?” Allison told her daughter. “There’s a surprise waiting for you in your room.”

(Y/N) smiled and quickly made her way up the stairs to see what her mom meant. Opening the door, tears forming in her eyes. Her room had done a 180-degree turn. The walls had been painted a light beige color, and plants hung from the walls bringing warmth to the room. The bed was adorned with a white cover, and a fluffy duvet to keep her warm at night. A wooden frame sat atop the bed dressed in white linen and ivy vines. A bookcase lived in the corner of her room, filled to the brim with her collection of hardbacks and peppered with potted plants. Opposite the bed was a small desk with a dark green suede chair, her laptop set up in the workspace. Her room finally felt like hers.

“Do you like it, honey?”

“Mom, did you do this?”

“I wish I could take credit, but your brother and your friend Paul came over when I was at work and redecorated. I was actually surprised that they even came over.”

“I’ll have to thank them,” (Y/N) grinned. Even though their relationship was strained at the moment, and she had yet to see Paul since coming back, she was glad that they had taken time out of their days to do this for her. “I’ll go over to Sam’s house for a bit, maybe now he’ll have time to see me.”

“Why don’t you go tomorrow, honey? You should take it easy.”

“I feel a lot better, mom. You don’t have to worry too much.”

“I’m your mother, I’ll always worry. If you’re gonna go out, go see Jacob. He was really worried about you.”

“I will.”

(Y/N) kissed her mother’s cheek and grabbed her bag to head out. Her first stop was to the Black residence. Jacob saw her coming down the street and ran out to wrap her in a hug. When she collapsed last week, he had been very concerned when she collapsed in his garage. Jacob was glad that she had made a full recovery and was now back home, with minimum side effects showing. The visit was short, only a quick hello to ensure the boy that she was okay.

After spending some time with Jacob, she walked towards Sam’s house – she hoped to catch Paul there too since she had heard he now spent his time there alongside Jared Cameron. It hadn’t clicked in her head why Paul would ever hang out with her brother and Jared. Even when they were back in middle school, he never paid them any mind, having a separate friend group. She had only become his friend by spending time with him away from school, and her brother had always disliked them together, claiming he was a bad influence.

Outside of the small house, (Y/N) could hear the low chatter of manly voices, a higher-pitched one joining after. There was no mistaking that Sam was home. She started feeling nervous as she raised her hand to knock on the door. The shaky limb was able to make contact with the blue door twice before it opened wide open, revealing a shirtless Paul Lahote.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned. Paul knew she was back, but Sam had given him clear instructions to stay away from her due to their situation.

“Hey, Paul. Long time no see, huh?” The girl smiled at her friend that now towered over her. A few years ago, they were still of the same stature, but too much time had passed since then. She went in for a hug, and Paul cut it short – worried she might note his burning temperature. “Is Sam home?”

“Uh, yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck, turning towards the kitchen. “Sam! (Y/N)’s here.”

The older male appeared in front of them, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Hey, (Y/N). Good to see you’re doing better. What brings you around?”

“I just wanted to thank you both for what you did in my room. Mom told me you worked on it while we were away. It’s a dream.” Sam smiled at his younger sister and shared a hug with the smaller girl.

“I’m glad you liked it, (Y/N). We wanted to give you a place where you could rest better after the accident. It’s the least we could do.” The alpha could hear the duo that was left in the kitchen had grown curious about who was at the door. “Do you want to come in for a bit?”

“Are you really inviting me in?” (Y/N) was taken aback – the last thing she thought was that she would get that invitation.

“Yeah, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Sam responded, keeping his doubts of the encounter to himself.

(Y/N) walked through the threshold and instantly felt the warm aura that emanated from inside of the house. It was a welcoming environment that she had grown to love from her own mother’s house. She walked behind Sam, Paul following behind them. `There was nothing that could prepare her to the sight she was met with.

In front of her stood a beautiful woman. She had tan skin, long black hair, and a beautiful smile. But there was something that stood out to her, something she was sure stood out to everyone – three long gashes ran through the front of her face. Yet, they didn’t distract from the alluring atmosphere that surrounded her. Sam moved to her side, and (Y/N) quickly connected the dots and figured that was Emily Young. The Uley girl wanted to be indifferent to her presence, knowing how one of her friends had been hurt by the union in front of her, she couldn’t help but note the love that radiated from the pair. It had been a long time since she had seen her brother as happy as he looked as he stared at his fiancé.

“(Y/N), it’s an honor to finally meet you.” Emily stretched out her hand towards the girl, which (Y/N) gladly took. “Sam has told me so much about you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” (Y/N) joked. “Hopefully, we’ll have a chance to get to know each other more. I’d love to get to know the woman my brother is set to marry.”

“I’m sure we’ll have enough time now that you’re back.” Emily smiled and grabbed a basket filled with muffins, offering them to the girl. (Y/N) gladly took the baked good in her hand, picking at it and placing the piece in her mouth – a wonderful taste that quickly melted in her mouth. “You’re welcome over any time. Any family of Sam is family to me.”

“Thank you, Emily. I’ll be sure to take you up on that.”

Not much time passed before Sam had cut the meeting short, claiming there was something important the duo had to do. “We should do this another time, (Y/N). Paul and I have to go.”

“Go where?” (Y/N) questioned. “It’s already night, not much to do.”

“I can’t really tell you, sis. But it’s important.”

“So still guarding secrets?” Sam shrugged. “It’s fine, Sam. I’m growing used to it.”

“(Y/N)…”

“I can take a hint, Sam. I know when I’m not wanted,” (Y/N) smiled. “Thank you for the muffins, Emily. They were divine. I’ll be sure to take you up on that offer and visit sometime soon.”

“Of course, (Y/N). I’m sorry we had to cut this short.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you guys.” (Y/N) took her bag and exited the house. She was confused on why Sam had welcomed her in only to have her leave soon after – there was something big he was hiding, and she needed to find out what it was.

“(Y/N), wait up!” Paul jogged up to her, turning her around. “Look, I hope you understand that we’re not trying to push you away on purpose. There are things that Sam is protecting you from.”

“Like what, Paul? What danger could possibly be surrounding us that he would stray from his family?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s not my place to tell you, (Y/N). As much as I hate keeping this from you, Sam would not allow it to come from anyone but himself.”

“Are you serious? What kind of power does he have over you?”

“PAUL!” Sam shouted, gaining the attention of his beta. “Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I hope one day you’ll forgive us.” Paul kissed her forehead and went to meet up with his alpha.

(Y/N) stood still as she watched their bodies disappear into the woods. She debated whether to follow them for a brief second, but she was exhausted. She left back home with a million questions running through her head. The pair of Sam and Paul was a strange view, and she was determined to get to the bottom of things.

When she got home, (Y/N) noticed her mother asleep on the couch, the tv in front of her still playing. The years that passed were clear on her face, the worry that she carried for both her children plastered in the lines of her face. She could see the exhaustion that she held, years of caring for two kids by herself taking a toll on her. (Y/N) grabbed a blanket and laid it on top of her mother’s body, making sure that she was warm during the night. She left a kiss on her cheek, thankful for everything her mother had sacrificed for her.

After showering the day off, (Y/N) changed into her pajamas and laid in bed staring at her phone’s screen. She thought if she stared at it long enough a message would magically pop up. Minutes passed and her phone kept silent, not a single notification appearing on the screen. She scrolled through her directory until it landed on the newest listing. Carlisle Cullen, it read. Her finger clicked on it and selected new message.

Her fingers danced atop the keyboard of her phone, no words coming to her mind to send to the doctor. Should she even send him a message? What if he truly was married? She would never want to come between a couple. But her fingers did not follow her thought train. Unconsciously, they started typing away a message and before she could analyze her actions, she sent the message.

Hi, Carlisle. It’s (Y/N). I made it home okay and don’t have any symptoms, seems like you fixed me up! Anyways, wanted to know if you possibly had some free time this weekend to join me for some dinner at La Bella Italia. Hope you had a good rest of the day at work!

Her jaw fell when her screen read message sent. There was no way to delete it now. It was out there, and it would make its way to his phone. (Y/N)’s head fell onto her pillow and muffled a scream that escaped from her throat. This feeling was alien to her, and she was learning what steps to take to grow closer to the astonishing man. Minutes felt like an eternity to (Y/N), thinking that she had imploded the friendship she had built with the man over the past week.

Beep.

The sound from her phone caught her attention. She scrambled for her phone and quietly shrieked at the words on her screen.

Hello, (Y/N). I’m glad you’re feeling better, hopefully, no symptoms will arise once more. And I did have a good day at work, although I missed our afternoon book chats. I have a free day on Sunday. Tell me a time and I can meet you in Port Angeles. Hope that day is good for you.

“He said yes. If he were actually married, he wouldn’t have said yes,” she thought.

So, she typed back.

I’m glad you had a good day, and the book chats have an easy fix. I’m just a phone call away. As for Sunday, it’s a perfect day. I think around 5:30 would be a good time for dinner. Let me know if it works.

Sent.

Seconds later, another beep.

I’ll make sure to schedule those calls then. 5:30 sounds perfect. I’ll see you there. Have a good night, (Y/N).

See you then, Carlisle. Good night. 😊

(Y/N) smiled at her phone, joy wanting to burst from her body. She was reveling in this new feeling and the happiness it brought her. If it was Carlisle, it was worth it, she believed.

That night she went to sleep with the biggest smile she had experienced in her life. Unbeknownst to the life-changing moments that were to follow this meeting.

Tag List: @daniallh @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @imaginetwilight2704 @jessicas-undrground @hey-you-therexo @mauvette268 @mxyee @beefwhobarksandisalilmadalot

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handsomelyhiddleston · 3 years

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The Cabin - Tom Hiddleston x Curvy Reader (Part 1/3)

“What’s got you so distracted?” Evans asked Tom.

“Sorry, I just…I had planned on visiting my family again during break, but most of them will be on a cruise for a family friend’s wedding. I know I saw them less than two months ago for Christmas, but I don’t get to see them often anymore.”

“Oh, damn!” Chris replied.

“I know, I’m considering whether or not it’s even worth it to deal with two incredibly long flights going to and from London if I’m not even going to get to see my family.” He said, opening the make-up trailer door for him and Chris.

“Where else were you thinking about spending break?” he asked, plopping down in the make-up chair to start having all of the Captain America washed off for the next two weeks.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I may just take a trip to somewhere much closer by myself.” Tom answered, running his fingers through his hair when his wig was removed.

“If that’s what you WANT to do, cool, but you should just come with me to the cabin.” Chris suggested.

“The cabin?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, my friend Y/N owns a huge cabin and I drag my family up there every few years.” He explained.

“Thank you for the invite, but I couldn’t intrude on your family’s time with you.” Tom politely answered.

“Come on. First, you know my mother loves you. Second, you aren’t intruding on anything.” Chris tried convincing him.

“I really don’t want to be a bother.” Tom felt guilty, knowing how much of a family person Chris was.

“That’s it.” Chris dramatically pulled his cellphone out. “Siri, call Ma!”

“You wouldn’t.” Tom said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Calling ‘Ma’” Siri’s voice replied. The make-up artists were trying hard to keep their laughs to themselves at this point.

After a few rings, Chris’ mother answered the phone. “Hey sweetie.”

“Hey Ma, I’m here with Hiddleston and I need you to settle an argument.” Chris shot Tom a snarky ‘watch this’ look.

“Tom! How are you, sweetheart?” Chris’ mom Lisa asked.

“I’m doing well, thank you. How have you been?” Tom replied with a grin on his face.

“I’m good, I’m good. Now what are you two arguing about?” She asked.

“Well, Tom isn’t going to get to see his family over filming break.” Chris started to explain.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Lisa interrupted. “You should just drive up to Y/n’s with Chris! There’s plenty of room and you know I always make too much food anyhow.”

Chris gave Tom a cocky grin. “That’s exactly what I was telling him, Ma!”

“You’re too kind.” Tom laughed. “I suppose you’ve made an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re always welcome with us.” Lisa reiterated. “We’re getting ready for bed since our flight is so damn early in the morning, so I’ll see you two tomorrow!”

“Thanks, Ma! Be safe!” Chris answered, hanging up the phone.

“Thank you.” Tom said, getting up from his make-up chair.

“I told you, it’s no biggie. We’re gonna have a blast.” Evans answered.

“When are we leaving?” Tom asked.

“Well, we’ve got a few options.” Chris answered as the two of them left the make-up trailer.

“Go on.”

“They aren’t expecting us there until tomorrow, but if we leave in the next few hours, we’ll actually beat them there.” Chris explained.

“I mean, I’m nowhere near tired.” Tom said, letting Chris know he was down for the drive.

“Same. I’ve been so excited for this trip, I feel wired.” He replied “Wanna pack and meet me at mine?”

“Absolutely.” Tom answered. “Anything specific I should pack?” He called loudly as the two had walked a distance apart.

“Dress comfy!” Chris yelled back. “And bring a jacket! It’s snowing!”

Tom waved and made his way to his trailer.

It was about an 8 or 9 hour drive up to the cabin, so the guys rolled up at about 3 in the morning.

“Is anybody else here?” Tom asked, as Chris navigated his truck up the snowy drive.

“Y/n’s here. She spends about half her time up here.” Chris answered, parking the truck and shooting you a text.

“Where does she spend the rest of her time?” Tom asked.

“Everywhere, really. She’s a writer. She’s even come and crashed with me while I was filming.” Chris answered, hopping out of the truck when he got your text reply.

“Books? Scripts?” Tom asked, curious what you wrote.

“Books, mostly. She’s got a few popular series, but she also has a few pen names that she refuses to tell me so I’ve always assumed she like consults or edits or something.” Chris answered.

“How mysterious.” Tom chucked, grabbing his bag and following Chris up to the house.

“Y/n!” Chris yelled into the cabin, leading Tom into the large home.

“Did you really work all day and then drive 8 hours?” you laughed, walking down the stairs.

“I just couldn’t wait to see that beautiful face.” Chris dropped his bag and pulled you into a bear hug.

“Sure. This definitely has nothing to do with you beating Scott to one of the big bedrooms.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around him.

“That’s just a perk.” He teased, introducing you to Tom. “I’m sure you know who this is. Y/n, Tom. Tom, Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.” You replied, pulling Tom into a hug.

“It’s very nice to meet you too.” Tom said, happy to see that you seemed just as chill and down to earth as the rest of Chris’ friends and family.

“He had to bail on his plans to fly home for the break, so I convinced him to join our two weeks of amazing chaos and shenanigans.” Chris laughed.

“Amazing is right, bucko. I just got two hot tubs installed” you shared.

“Yes!” Chris half yelled.

“Also, mi casa es su casa, Tom. Make yourself at home.” You told him.

“Gracias.” Tom replied in Spanish.

“Any chance you two want to take a dip tonight before the rest of the pack arrives?” Chris asked, looking between you and Tom.

“Absolutely” you answered, walking towards the kitchen. “You both okay with Beer? I’ve got other options.”

“Beer for me.” Chris answered.

“Actually, a beer sounds rather refreshing at the moment.” Tom answered.

“I’ll grab the beer and you two can pick your rooms” you called from the kitchen.

“You down for the hot tub?” Chris asked Tom.

“I am, but I didn’t pack any swim shorts.” He answered.

“No worries, Y/n has a whole closet full of random stuff. Follow me.” Chris led Tom up the stairs. “Y/n’s room is at the very top, but there’s two rooms just below that. We can take those two. Let those with kiddos stay closest to the bottom floor.”

“Sounds good to me” Tom replied, dropping his bag on the bed before following Chris to your closet of misfit swim clothes, jackets, sleepwear, blankets, and other miscellaneous stuff.

When you made your way upstairs, you saw that the guys had picked the two rooms closest to yours. You weren’t surprised. They were the two biggest after yours and Chris never got to pick one of them because he was always the last to show up for his family get togethers.

“When you two get changed, head up to mine. The second hot tub is on my balcony.” You took the three unopened beers and went up the last set of stairs to get changed in your room. Your suit was a black balconette bikini top and a pair of black high waisted bikini bottoms. The top and bottom had a few strappy bits that accentuated your curves.

“Well hello there, sexy lady.” You heard Chris and his unending charm behind you as you were finishing getting your top all sorted.

“You guys get settled in?” you asked, nodding towards the beers.

Chris opened one and handed it to you. “We did.” As he opened another for himself and sat on your bed, he shared a bit about Tom. “I’m happy he tagged along. I don’t know what he’s got going on in his personal life because he doesn’t share a lot, but he needs a break like this.”

“Well, if I had to take a guess...” you took a swig of your beer. “You two get along great which makes me think he’s a down to earth, genuine person.”

“I agree” Chris replied.

“If you’ve seen any of the tabloids lately, they aren’t very friendly to the exes of the women he’s most recently dated. I’m going to assume he’s a bit overwhelmed and a bit worn out. It’s hard to stay genuine and down to earth when the media is writing about you as if you’re a scheming fuckboy.”

Chris took a swig of his beer. “I think you might be right. God, beauty and brains? Why won’t you marry me?” he teased.

“Like you could handle me” you teased right back.

“I’m going to go get more beer so we don’t have to leave the hot tub.” Chris stood and smacked your ass on the way out.

“How did I know you were going to do that?” you laughed.

Chris was laughing as he passed Tom. “I’ll meet you two up there.”

When Tom walked in, you opened the last of the three beers and handed it to him. “Pink suits you.” You noticed he was wearing the bright pink swim shorts from the closet.

Tom blushed and laughed as he took a sip of his beer. “It was this or ones with bananas all over them. I thought I’d make a bold choice.”

“Choice well made” you replied, opening the double doors to your balcony. “It’s going to be a short chilly journey to the hot tub, but heaven once you get in.”

When you went to walk up the steps on the side of the hot tub to get in, Tom extended his arm so you could grab his hand. “Be careful.”

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile.

“God, I leave for two minutes and you two are already holding hands.” Chris snarked as he joined the two of you on the balcony. You and Tom both laughed as you walked down into the hot tub and let go of his hand. “What’s he got that I don’t got?” Chris was fake sniffling as he climbed into the hot tub after Tom.

“Oh, sweetie. I don’t think you want to know the answer to that question.” You answered, finishing the beer in your hand.

“Now I really want to know” Chris replied, opening and handing you a second beer.

“Are you two always like this?” Tom laughed.

You and Chris looked at each other and answered “yeah” at the same time.

After the three of you had spent about a half hour in the hot tub just talking and laughing, Tom cleared his throat. “Thank you for this.”

“For what?” you asked. He was sat between you and Chris, the three of you looking out at the beautiful snowy mountain view.

“Chris, for inviting me. You, for having me. Both of you for forcing me to get out of my own head.” Tom answered.

“You don’t need to thank us.” Chris replied, slapping Tom on the shoulder.

“He’s right, you know.” You smiled, looping your arm through his and leaning your head on his shoulder, looking back out at the view. “You’re pretty great company if I do say so myself.”

“Well, if I can’t thank you, at least let me share my appreciation of you both.” Tom replied, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“Just wait until the whole pack shows up” Chris laughed. “It’s calm now, but you’re going to have plenty of distractions once the shenanigans start.”

“Remember, my room is the safe zone” you laughed. “No kids, it’s off-limits during games, and it’s the only access to this balcony.”

“I’ll keep that in mind” Tom chuckled.

Chris looked over and saw you cuddled into Tom’s side. “Why do I get the feeling you’re ‘appreciating’ Y/n over there a lot more than you are me” he teased.

You laughed and Tom looked over at Chris. “If you wanted a snuggle, that’s all you had to say.”

The three of you were all laughing, the lateness of the night sinking in. “If I snuggle anyone I’m going to fall asleep, and I have a feeling that’s not the best idea in a hot tub.” He stood up and hopped over the side, almost slipping on the icy balcony floor.

“What time is everyone arriving tomorrow?” you asked, not moving from your spot at Tom’s side.

“Well, they always grab breakfast down at that old little diner after they land, so maybe 11?” Chris answered, wrapping himself in a towel.

“You mean we actually get to sleep in?” you said with a bit of exaggerated shock.

“I don’t think it counts as sleeping in if you don’t go to bed until after the sun starts peaking over the mountains.” Tom teased you.

Chris laughed. “Hey, we’ll take it. Sleep is going to be a rare commodity around here for at least a few days.” He left the balcony and went back inside to warm up.

“I can’t wait.” Tom said.

“Me either. I love when they come up here. Always makes this place feel more like home.” You shared, moving to get out of the hot tub.

“I think the chaos is something I miss when I don’t get to spend time with my family.” Tom replied, once again grabbing your hand and making sure you made it safely out of the hot tub and onto the balcony. “I think having all of my nieces and nephews running around and the fact that there is always something cooking or baking…It’s hard to feel alone.”

You handed Tom a large towel and wrapped another one around yourself. “Well, if that’s your idea of a great time, you’re going to love your time with Chris’ family. They’re love and chaos and great food with a dash of an extreme love of competition.”

Tom followed you back into the house. “Well, again. I appreciate that I’m able to experience it.”

“Me too” you said, drying your hair a bit with your towel. “It sounds like you needed a bit of an escape.”

“That’s one way to put it” Tom said, drying off.

“Well, if you need anything just come find me, okay?” You could hear Chris coming back up the stairs to your room.

“Thank you, I will.” Tom replied, seeming to hesitate for a second. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you tonight. Or this morning, rather.” He laughed.

You couldn’t help but smile as you threw your towel into the clothes hamper. You were a very confident person. You were proud of who you were, and you loved your curvy body, but all of a sudden you felt very naked standing there in your bikini. Tom’s genuine compliment and the way he confidently looked you up and down left you with goosebumps. “The feeling is definitely mutual.”

“Let me know if I can help with anything. Preparations and such.” Tom mentioned as Chris walked in.

“Don’t worry about that, Ma usually takes over when she gets here.” Chris laughed.

You shrugged. “True” you added, both grateful for and irritated by the interruption.

“Y/n, I checked that all of the doors were locked. Our trucks are both locked too. I’m gonna pass out and shower when I wake up.” Chris let you know.

“Thanks” you replied. “I’ll probably hop in the shower before I go to bed so that I can help your mom sort meals and such out when she gets here.”

“Sweet. I’m going to bed.” Chris interrupted himself with a yawn. “I will see both of you in a few hours”

As Chris headed back down a floor to his room, Tom cleared his throat. “I really don’t mind helping.”

“You’ll eventually get roped into doing something, I promise.” You laughed.

Tom nodded and smiled. “Well then, I’m going to go shower and sleep. I’ll see you in a bit.”

As Tom turned to walk down the stairs, you spoke. “Try to relax.” When he turned to look at you, you continued. “You have nothing to worry about for two whole weeks. No schedule, no paparazzi, no expectations…just, let yourself enjoy it, okay?”

Tom smiled and nodded his head. He replied “I think I will” before continuing down the stairs.

Instead of your alarm, you were woken up by Chris crawling into your bed. “Y/n.” He was trying to wake you up gently. “Y/n!”

“Did my alarm not go off?” you asked, rolling over and snuggling into Chris.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “I underestimated my mother’s planning. Turns out they got to the diner at 8 this morning and they’re currently unloading the cabs downstairs.”

“What time is it?” you asked.

“9:30” Chris replied, the two of you hearing someone coming up the stairs.

“I’m going to need coffee” you mumbled.

Tom made it to the top of the stairs and saw you and Chris together in your bed. He tucked the thought away, making note to ask Chris about the two of you later. “Not a morning person?” he asked, laughing at your messy bed head and request for caffeine.

“I can be when I need to be, but we were awake and drinking on my balcony like four hours ago” you replied.

“Can I make you some coffee?” Tom offered.

You rolled over and sat up sorting out your messy hair. “I can make it. I just need to get dressed.”

Chris rolled out of your bed, going to your closet. “Bra, leggings, sweater, fuzzy socks.” Chris tossed your clothes onto your bed.

“You know me so well.” You laughed, gathering your clothes and getting out of bed. “I’ll be down in a few.”

“I think they’re finished unloading, but I’ll go see if there’s anything else they need help with.” Tom replied, heading downstairs.

“I’m offended that you two look like you’ve just had 12 hours of beauty sleep.” You teased Chris, pulling your leggings on.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself” Chris said, turning to leave. “You’ve definitely caught someone’s attention.” Chris had noticed the way Tom looked at the two of you cuddled up in your bed and planned on asking him about it later.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sleepily asked, but Chris was already gone.

You finished getting dressed in your long, oversized sweater and fuzzy socks and walked downstairs to greet Chris’ family.

“Y/n!” Chris’ sisters greeted, pulling you each into a hug, the three of you quickly catching up.

Then came Scott, who practically tackled you. “Bitch, it has been too long.”

“Agreed.” You replied, the two of you making plans to go get stuff for drinks tonight.

You’d said a few hellos and given a few hugs to various other friends and family and eventually you made your way to the kitchen with Tom and Lisa, Chris’ mom.

“Oh, my dear, it’s so good to see you.” Lisa pulled you into a tight hug, kissing both of your cheeks. “I can’t believe the boys showed up at three this morning!”

You laughed. “It’s good to see you too. And Chris warned me a few days ago that he would probably drive up after he finished filming.”

Looking over you saw Tom holding a mug of coffee out towards you. “For me?” You reached out and took the mug from him.

“It’s the least I could do. Lisa told me how you take your coffee.” He answered, nodding towards Chris’ mom.

You took a sip, humming to yourself. “Thank you, this is perfect.” You pressed a quick kiss to Tom’s cheek before hearing Chris’ niece call for you.

“In the kitchen, sweetie” you called back out, walking towards where you heard her call from.

As the adults started getting settled into their rooms, the kids were all starting to crash from the hectic morning they’d had.

“Let’s watch a movie in the den, guys.” You suggested, grabbing blankets and pillows and throwing them on the couches and floor so that the kids would spread out and nap.

“What are we gonna watch?” one of his nephews asked.

“Well, we’ve got Goosebumps, we’ve got School of Rock, and we’ve got Bedtime Stories.” You read the movies aloud, with the kids all picking Goosebumps. About 15 minutes in, all of you were asleep in various places in the room.

Scott, Chris, and Tom were bundled up in their jackets talking on the back porch as Chris set up your grill and got it ready to use.

“So how long have you guys known Y/n?” Tom asked.

“Oh, god. It’s been…I don’t even know. It’s been years.” Chris thought about how long you guys had been friends.

“Chris met Y/n one day in New York. She was there for a book project or something and Chris had ducked inside her apartment building to get away from paparazzi.” Scott laughed, remembering Chris tell him the story.

Chris let out a big laugh. “She was getting ready to walk out and I practically ran into her. When she realized why I so rudely shoved my way into the building, she asked me ‘Do you want to do something very immature but totally worth it?’ I had to, right?”

Scott continued the story. “She led him up to her apartment and ran inside. Chris just waited at the door wondering what he’d gotten himself into when she popped back out, holding a box of water balloons.”

Tom laughed. “Oh, please tell me you threw them at the paparazzi.”

“They did. They filled a bin full of them and went to the roof.” Scott replied.

“I have never made a friend so quickly in my life” Chris said. “We got through about half of the bin before they left. Even better, they never got a picture of me throwing the balloons. The tabloids alluded to the fact that it was me, but we never officially got caught.”

“I don’t know if she adopted us or if we adopted her, but she’s been family ever since.” Scott added.

“Either way, she’s the best kind of people.” Chris said, closing the lid on the grill.

“I can see that.” Tom replied. After a short pause, he continued. “Have you two ever…dated?”

Chris grinned, remembering how Tom had looked at the two of you cuddled up in your bed. “Nah, she’s one of my best friends. Possibly my actual best friend.” he answered, sitting down next to the other two guys.

“Even though I’m sure ma would love it if you two got together.” Scott laughed.

“I think ma just wants both of us to settle down and have kids like the girls did.” Chris replied. “She treats Y/n like a daughter.”

Scott looked back at Tom. “Why the interest in Y/n’s dating life, huh?” he teased him.

“Just curious” Tom answered with straightest face he could manage.

“I don’t know” Chris continued, continuing to tease Tom. “You two looked awfully cozy last night.”

Tom’s cheeks blushed a bit before he could answer. “If a beautiful woman laid her head on your shoulder, what would you have done?”

“Fair point.” Chris laughed. “She’s single, you know” he added.

“She is” Scott echoed, smirking. “And I have a date to go shopping with her if you want me to see if she’s interested.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves” Tom replied, failing miserably at hiding his grin.

“No rush” Scott answered, putting his hands up. “I’m just saying…”

“Give him a break” Chris interrupted. “He’s got two weeks to see where things go.”

“True” Scott replied.

Part 2

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston imagine #Tom Hiddleston x curvy reader #Loki

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blackwoolncrown · 4 years

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”This essay has been kicking around in my head for years now and I’ve never felt confident enough to write it. It’s a time in my life I’m ashamed of. It’s a time that I hurt people and, through inaction, allowed others to be hurt. It’s a time that I acted as a violent agent of capitalism and white supremacy. Under the guise of public safety, I personally ruined people’s lives but in so doing, made the public no safer… so did the family members and close friends of mine who also bore the badge alongside me.

But enough is enough.

The reforms aren’t working. Incrementalism isn’t happening. Unarmed Black, indigenous, and people of color are being killed by cops in the streets and the police are savagely attacking the people protesting these murders.

American policing is a thick blue tumor strangling the life from our communities and if you don’t believe it when the poor and the marginalized say it, if you don’t believe it when you see cops across the country shooting journalists with less-lethal bullets and caustic chemicals, maybe you’ll believe it when you hear it straight from the pig’s mouth.”

>>Copied here in case anyone gets paywalled when they click the above. The full article is...a lot.<<

WHY AM I WRITING THIS

As someone who went through the training, hiring, and socialization of a career in law enforcement, I wanted to give a first-hand account of why I believe police officers are the way they are. Not to excuse their behavior, but to explain it and to indict the structures that perpetuate it.

I believe that if everyone understood how we’re trained and brought up in the profession, it would inform the demands our communities should be making of a new way of community safety. If I tell you how we were made, I hope it will empower you to unmake us.

One of the other reasons I’ve struggled to write this essay is that I don’t want to center the conversation on myself and my big salty boo-hoo feelings about my bad choices. It’s a toxic white impulse to see atrocities and think “How can I make this about me?” So, I hope you’ll take me at my word that this account isn’t meant to highlight me, but rather the hundred thousand of me in every city in the country. It’s about the structure that made me (that I chose to pollute myself with) and it’s my meager contribution to the cause of radical justice.

YES, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS

I was a police officer in a major metropolitan area in California with a predominantly poor, non-white population (with a large proportion of first-generation immigrants). One night during briefing, our watch commander told us that the city council had requested a new zero tolerance policy. Against murderers, drug dealers, or child predators?

No, against homeless people collecting cans from recycling bins.

See, the city had some kickback deal with the waste management company where waste management got paid by the government for our expected tonnage of recycling. When homeless people “stole” that recycling from the waste management company, they were putting that cheaper contract in peril. So, we were to arrest as many recyclers as we could find.

Even for me, this was a stupid policy and I promptly blew Sarge off. But a few hours later, Sarge called me over to assist him. He was detaining a 70 year old immigrant who spoke no English, who he’d seen picking a coke can out of a trash bin. He ordered me to arrest her for stealing trash. I said, “Sarge, c’mon, she’s an old lady.” He said, “I don’t give a shit. Hook her up, that’s an order.” And… I did. She cried the entire way to the station and all through the booking process. I couldn’t even comfort her because I didn’t speak Spanish. I felt disgusting but I was ordered to make this arrest and I wasn’t willing to lose my job for her.

If you’re tempted to feel sympathy for me, don’t. I used to happily hassle the homeless under other circumstances. I researched obscure penal codes so I could arrest people in homeless encampments for lesser known crimes like “remaining too close to railroad property” (369i of the California Penal Code). I used to call it “planting warrant seeds” since I knew they wouldn’t make their court dates and we could arrest them again and again for warrant violations.

We used to have informal contests for who could cite or arrest someone for the weirdest law. DUI on a bicycle, non-regulation number of brooms on your tow truck (27700(a)(1) of the California Vehicle Code)… shit like that. For me, police work was a logic puzzle for arresting people, regardless of their actual threat to the community. As ashamed as I am to admit it, it needs to be said: stripping people of their freedom felt like a game to me for many years.

I know what you’re going to ask: did I ever plant drugs? Did I ever plant a gun on someone? Did I ever make a false arrest or file a false report? Believe it or not, the answer is no. Cheating was no fun, I liked to get my stats the “legitimate” way. But I knew officers who kept a little baggie of whatever or maybe a pocket knife that was a little too big in their war bags (yeah, we called our dufflebags “war bags”…). Did I ever tell anybody about it? No I did not. Did I ever confess my suspicions when cocaine suddenly showed up in a gang member’s jacket? No I did not.

In fact, let me tell you about an extremely formative experience: in my police academy class, we had a clique of around six trainees who routinely bullied and harassed other students: intentionally scuffing another trainee’s shoes to get them in trouble during inspection, sexually harassing female trainees, cracking racist jokes, and so on. Every quarter, we were to write anonymous evaluations of our squadmates. I wrote scathing accounts of their behavior, thinking I was helping keep bad apples out of law enforcement and believing I would be protected. Instead, the academy staff read my complaints to them out loud and outed me to them and never punished them, causing me to get harassed for the rest of my academy class. That’s how I learned that even police leadership hates rats. That’s why no one is “changing things from the inside.” They can’t, the structure won’t allow it.

And that’s the point of what I’m telling you. Whether you were my sergeant, legally harassing an old woman, me, legally harassing our residents, my fellow trainees bullying the rest of us, or “the bad apples” illegally harassing “shitbags”, we were all in it together. I knew cops that pulled women over to flirt with them. I knew cops who would pepper spray sleeping bags so that homeless people would have to throw them away. I knew cops that intentionally provoked anger in suspects so they could claim they were assaulted. I was particularly good at winding people up verbally until they lashed out so I could fight them. Nobody spoke out. Nobody stood up. Nobody betrayed the code.

None of us protected the people (you) from bad cops.

This is why “All cops are bastards.” Even your uncle, even your cousin, even your mom, even your brother, even your best friend, even your spouse, even me. Because even if they wouldn’t Do The Thing themselves, they will almost never rat out another officer who Does The Thing, much less stop it from happening.

BASTARD 101

I could write an entire book of the awful things I’ve done, seen done, and heard others bragging about doing. But, to me, the bigger question is “How did it get this way?”. While I was a police officer in a city 30 miles from where I lived, many of my fellow officers were from the community and treated their neighbors just as badly as I did. While every cop’s individual biases come into play, it’s the profession itself that is toxic, and it starts from day 1 of training.

Every police academy is different but all of them share certain features: taught by old cops, run like a paramilitary bootcamp, strong emphasis on protecting yourself more than anyone else. The majority of my time in the academy was spent doing aggressive physical training and watching video after video after video of police officers being murdered on duty.

I want to highlight this: nearly everyone coming into law enforcement is bombarded with dash cam footage of police officers being ambushed and killed. Over and over and over. Colorless VHS mortality plays, cops screaming for help over their radios, their bodies going limp as a pair of tail lights speed away into a grainy black horizon. In my case, with commentary from an old racist cop who used to brag about assaulting Black Panthers.

To understand why all cops are bastards, you need to understand one of the things almost every training officer told me when it came to using force:

“I’d rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6.”

Meaning, “I’ll take my chances in court rather than risk getting hurt”. We’re able to think that way because police unions are extremely overpowered and because of the generous concept of Qualified Immunity, a legal theory which says a cop generally can’t be held personally liable for mistakes they make doing their job in an official capacity.

When you look at the actions of the officers who killed George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, David McAtee, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, or Freddie Gray, remember that they, like me, were trained to recite “I’d rather be judged by 12” as a mantra. Even if Mistakes Were Made™, the city (meaning the taxpayers, meaning you) pays the settlement, not the officer.

Once police training has - through repetition, indoctrination, and violent spectacle - promised officers that everyone in the world is out to kill them, the next lesson is that your partners are the only people protecting you. Occasionally, this is even true: I’ve had encounters turn on me rapidly to the point I legitimately thought I was going to die, only to have other officers come and turn the tables.

One of the most important thought leaders in law enforcement is Col. Dave Grossman, a “killologist” who wrote an essay called “Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs”. Cops are the sheepdogs, bad guys are the wolves, and the citizens are the sheep (!). Col. Grossman makes sure to mention that to a stupid sheep, sheepdogs look more like wolves than sheep, and that’s why they dislike you.

This “they hate you for protecting them and only I love you, only I can protect you” tactic is familiar to students of abuse. It’s what abusers do to coerce their victims into isolation, pulling them away from friends and family and ensnaring them in the abuser’s toxic web. Law enforcement does this too, pitting the officer against civilians. “They don’t understand what you do, they don’t respect your sacrifice, they just want to get away with crimes. You’re only safe with us.”

I think the Wolves vs. Sheepdogs dynamic is one of the most important elements as to why officers behave the way they do. Every single second of my training, I was told that criminals were not a legitimate part of their community, that they were individual bad actors, and that their bad actions were solely the result of their inherent criminality. Any concept of systemic trauma, generational poverty, or white supremacist oppression was either never mentioned or simply dismissed. After all, most people don’t steal, so anyone who does isn’t “most people,” right? To us, anyone committing a crime deserved anything that happened to them because they broke the “social contract.” And yet, it was never even a question as to whether the power structure above them was honoring any sort of contract back.

Understand: Police officers are part of the state monopoly on violence and all police training reinforces this monopoly as a cornerstone of police work, a source of honor and pride. Many cops fantasize about getting to kill someone in the line of duty, egged on by others that have. One of my training officers told me about the time he shot and killed a mentally ill homeless man wielding a big stick. He bragged that he “slept like a baby” that night. Official training teaches you how to be violent effectively and when you’re legally allowed to deploy that violence, but “unofficial training” teaches you to desire violence, to expand the breadth of your violence without getting caught, and to erode your own compassion for desperate people so you can justify punitive violence against them.

HOW TO BE A BASTARD

I have participated in some of these activities personally, others are ones I either witnessed personally or heard officers brag about openly. Very, very occasionally, I knew an officer who was disciplined or fired for one of these things.

Police officers will lie about the law, about what’s illegal, or about what they can legally do to you in order to manipulate you into doing what they want.

Police officers will lie about feeling afraid for their life to justify a use of force after the fact.

Police officers will lie and tell you they’ll file a police report just to get you off their back.

Police officers will lie that your cooperation will “look good for you” in court, or that they will “put in a good word for you with the DA.” The police will never help you look good in court.

Police officers will lie about what they see and hear to access private property to conduct unlawful searches.

Police officers will lie and say your friend already ratted you out, so you might as well rat them back out. This is almost never true.

Police officers will lie and say you’re not in trouble in order to get you to exit a location or otherwise make an arrest more convenient for them.

Police officers will lie and say that they won’t arrest you if you’ll just “be honest with them” so they know what really happened.

Police officers will lie about their ability to seize the property of friends and family members to coerce a confession.

Police officers will write obviously bullshit tickets so that they get time-and-a-half overtime fighting them in court.

Police officers will search places and containers you didn’t consent to and later claim they were open or “smelled like marijuana”.

Police officers will threaten you with a more serious crime they can’t prove in order to convince you to confess to the lesser crime they really want you for.

Police officers will employ zero tolerance on races and ethnicities they dislike and show favor and lenience to members of their own group.

Police officers will use intentionally extra-painful maneuvers and holds during an arrest to provoke “resistance” so they can further assault the suspect.

Some police officers will plant drugs and weapons on you, sometimes to teach you a lesson, sometimes if they kill you somewhere away from public view.

Some police officers will assault you to intimidate you and threaten to arrest you if you tell anyone.

A non-trivial number of police officers will steal from your house or vehicle during a search.

A non-trivial number of police officers commit intimate partner violence and use their status to get away with it.

A non-trivial number of police officers use their position to entice, coerce, or force sexual favors from vulnerable people.

If you take nothing else away from this essay, I want you to tattoo this onto your brain forever: if a police officer is telling you something, it is probably a lie designed to gain your compliance.

Do not talk to cops and never, ever believe them. Do not “try to be helpful” with cops. Do not assume they are trying to catch someone else instead of you. Do not assume what they are doing is “important” or even legal. Under no circumstances assume any police officer is acting in good faith.

Also, and this is important, do not talk to cops.

I just remembered something, do not talk to cops.

Checking my notes real quick, something jumped out at me:

not

fucking

talk

cops.

Ever.

Say, “I don’t answer questions,” and ask if you’re free to leave; if so, leave. If not, tell them you want your lawyer and that, per the Supreme Court, they must terminate questioning. If they don’t, file a complaint and collect some badges for your mantle.

DO THE BASTARDS EVER HELP?

Reading the above, you may be tempted to ask whether cops ever do anything good. And the answer is, sure, sometimes. In fact, most officers I worked with thought they were usually helping the helpless and protecting the safety of innocent people.

During my tenure in law enforcement, I protected women from domestic abusers, arrested cold-blooded murderers and child molesters, and comforted families who lost children to car accidents and other tragedies. I helped connect struggling people in my community with local resources for food, shelter, and counseling. I deescalated situations that could have turned violent and talked a lot of people down from making the biggest mistake of their lives. I worked with plenty of officers who were individually kind, bought food for homeless residents, or otherwise showed care for their community.

The question is this: did I need a gun and sweeping police powers to help the average person on the average night? The answer is no. When I was doing my best work as a cop, I was doing mediocre work as a therapist or a social worker. My good deeds were listening to people failed by the system and trying to unite them with any crumbs of resources the structure was currently denying them.

It’s also important to note that well over 90% of the calls for service I handled were reactive, showing up well after a crime had taken place. We would arrive, take a statement, collect evidence (if any), file the report, and onto the next caper. Most “active” crimes we stopped were someone harmless possessing or selling a small amount of drugs. Very, very rarely would we stop something dangerous in progress or stop something from happening entirely. The closest we could usually get was seeing someone running away from the scene of a crime, but the damage was still done.

And consider this: my job as a police officer required me to be a marriage counselor, a mental health crisis professional, a conflict negotiator, a social worker, a child advocate, a traffic safety expert, a sexual assault specialist, and, every once in awhile, a public safety officer authorized to use force, all after only a 1000 hours of training at a police academy. Does the person we send to catch a robber also need to be the person we send to interview a rape victim or document a fender bender? Should one profession be expected to do all that important community care (with very little training) all at the same time?

To put this another way: I made double the salary most social workers made to do a fraction of what they could do to mitigate the causes of crimes and desperation. I can count very few times my monopoly on state violence actually made our citizens safer, and even then, it’s hard to say better-funded social safety nets and dozens of other community care specialists wouldn’t have prevented a problem before it started.

Armed, indoctrinated (and dare I say, traumatized) cops do not make you safer; community mutual aid networks who can unite other people with the resources they need to stay fed, clothed, and housed make you safer. I really want to hammer this home: every cop in your neighborhood is damaged by their training, emboldened by their immunity, and they have a gun and the ability to take your life with near-impunity. This does not make you safer, even if you’re white.

HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE A BASTARD?

So what do we do about it? Even though I’m an expert on bastardism, I am not a public policy expert nor an expert in organizing a post-police society. So, before I give some suggestions, let me tell you what probably won’t solve the problem of bastard cops:

Increased “bias” training. A quarterly or even monthly training session is not capable of covering over years of trauma-based camaraderie in police forces. I can tell you from experience, we don’t take it seriously, the proctors let us cheat on whatever “tests” there are, and we all made fun of it later over coffee.

Tougher laws. I hope you understand by now, cops do not follow the law and will not hold each other accountable to the law. Tougher laws are all the more reason to circle the wagons and protect your brothers and sisters.

More community policing programs. Yes, there is a marginal effect when a few cops get to know members of the community, but look at the protests of 2020: many of the cops pepper-spraying journalists were probably the nice school cop a month ago.

Police officers do not protect and serve people, they protect and serve the status quo, “polite society”, and private property. Using the incremental mechanisms of the status quo will never reform the police because the status quo relies on police violence to exist. Capitalism requires a permanent underclass to exploit for cheap labor and it requires the cops to bring that underclass to heel.

Instead of wasting time with minor tweaks, I recommend exploring the following ideas:

No more qualified immunity. Police officers should be personally liable for all decisions they make in the line of duty.

No more civil asset forfeiture. Did you know that every year, citizens like you lose more cash and property to unaccountable civil asset forfeiture than to all burglaries combined? The police can steal your stuff without charging you with a crime and it makes some police departments very rich.

Break the power of police unions. Police unions make it nearly impossible to fire bad cops and incentivize protecting them to protect the power of the union. A police union is not a labor union; police officers are powerful state agents, not exploited workers.

Require malpractice insurance. Doctors must pay for insurance in case they botch a surgery, police officers should do the same for botching a police raid or other use of force. If human decency won’t motivate police to respect human life, perhaps hitting their wallet might.

Defund, demilitarize, and disarm cops. Thousands of police departments own assault rifles, armored personnel carriers, and stuff you’d see in a warzone. Police officers have grants and huge budgets to spend on guns, ammo, body armor, and combat training. 99% of calls for service require no armed response, yet when all you have is a gun, every problem feels like target practice. Cities are not safer when unaccountable bullies have a monopoly on state violence and the equipment to execute that monopoly.

One final idea: consider abolishing the police.

I know what you’re thinking, “What? We need the police! They protect us!” As someone who did it for nearly a decade, I need you to understand that by and large, police protection is marginal, incidental. It’s an illusion created by decades of copaganda designed to fool you into thinking these brave men and women are holding back the barbarians at the gates.

I alluded to this above: the vast majority of calls for service I handled were theft reports, burglary reports, domestic arguments that hadn’t escalated into violence, loud parties, (houseless) people loitering, traffic collisions, very minor drug possession, and arguments between neighbors. Mostly the mundane ups and downs of life in the community, with little inherent danger. And, like I mentioned, the vast majority of crimes I responded to (even violent ones) had already happened; my unaccountable license to kill was irrelevant.

What I mainly provided was an “objective” third party with the authority to document property damage, ask people to chill out or disperse, or counsel people not to beat each other up. A trained counselor or conflict resolution specialist would be ten times more effective than someone with a gun strapped to his hip wondering if anyone would try to kill him when he showed up. There are many models for community safety that can be explored if we get away from the idea that the only way to be safe is to have a man with a M4 rifle prowling your neighborhood ready at a moment’s notice to write down your name and birthday after you’ve been robbed and beaten.

You might be asking, “What about the armed robbers, the gangsters, the drug dealers, the serial killers?” And yes, in the city I worked, I regularly broke up gang parties, found gang members carrying guns, and handled homicides. I’ve seen some tragic things, from a reformed gangster shot in the head with his brains oozing out to a fifteen year old boy taking his last breath in his screaming mother’s arms thanks to a gang member’s bullet. I know the wages of violence.

This is where we have to have the courage to ask: why do people rob? Why do they join gangs? Why do they get addicted to drugs or sell them? It’s not because they are inherently evil. I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.

Equally important to remember: disabled and mentally ill people are frequently killed by police officers not trained to recognize and react to disabilities or mental health crises. Some of the people we picture as “violent offenders” are often people struggling with untreated mental illness, often due to economic hardships. Very frequently, the officers sent to “protect the community” escalate this crisis and ultimately wound or kill the person. Your community was not made safer by police violence; a sick member of your community was killed because it was cheaper than treating them. Are you extremely confident you’ll never get sick one day too?

Wrestle with this for a minute: if all of someone’s material needs were met and all the members of their community were fed, clothed, housed, and dignified, why would they need to join a gang? Why would they need to risk their lives selling drugs or breaking into buildings? If mental healthcare was free and was not stigmatized, how many lives would that save?

Would there still be a few bad actors in the world? Sure, probably. What’s my solution for them, you’re no doubt asking. I’ll tell you what: generational poverty, food insecurity, houselessness, and for-profit medical care are all problems that can be solved in our lifetimes by rejecting the dehumanizing meat grinder of capitalism and white supremacy. Once that’s done, we can work on the edge cases together, with clearer hearts not clouded by a corrupt system.

Police abolition is closely related to the idea of prison abolition and the entire concept of banishing the carceral state, meaning, creating a society focused on reconciliation and restorative justice instead of punishment, pain, and suffering — a system that sees people in crisis as humans, not monsters. People who want to abolish the police typically also want to abolish prisons, and the same questions get asked: “What about the bad guys? Where do we put them?” I bring this up because abolitionists don’t want to simply replace cops with armed social workers or prisons with casual detention centers full of puffy leather couches and Playstations. We imagine a world not divided into good guys and bad guys, but rather a world where people’s needs are met and those in crisis receive care, not dehumanization.

Here’s legendary activist and thinker Angela Y. Davis putting it better than I ever could:

“An abolitionist approach that seeks to answer questions such as these would require us to imagine a constellation of alternative strategies and institutions, with the ultimate aim of removing the prison from the social and ideological landscapes of our society. In other words, we would not be looking for prisonlike substitutes for the prison, such as house arrest safeguarded by electronic surveillance bracelets. Rather, positing decarceration as our overarching strategy, we would try to envision a continuum of alternatives to imprisonment-demilitarization of schools, revitalization of education at all levels, a health system that provides free physical and mental care to all, and a justice system based on reparation and reconciliation rather than retribution and vengeance.”

(Are Prisons Obsolete, pg. 107)

I’m not telling you I have the blueprint for a beautiful new world. What I’m telling you is that the system we have right now is broken beyond repair and that it’s time to consider new ways of doing community together. Those new ways need to be negotiated by members of those communities, particularly Black, indigenous, disabled, houseless, and citizens of color historically shoved into the margins of society. Instead of letting Fox News fill your head with nightmares about Hispanic gangs, ask the Hispanic community what they need to thrive. Instead of letting racist politicians scaremonger about pro-Black demonstrators, ask the Black community what they need to meet the needs of the most vulnerable. If you truly desire safety, ask not what your most vulnerable can do for the community, ask what the community can do for the most vulnerable.

A WORLD WITH FEWER BASTARDS IS POSSIBLE

If you take only one thing away from this essay, I hope it’s this: do not talk to cops. But if you only take two things away, I hope the second one is that it’s possible to imagine a different world where unarmed black people, indigenous people, poor people, disabled people, and people of color are not routinely gunned down by unaccountable police officers. It doesn’t have to be this way. Yes, this requires a leap of faith into community models that might feel unfamiliar, but I ask you:

When you see a man dying in the street begging for breath, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a mother or a daughter shot to death sleeping in their beds, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a twelve year old boy executed in a public park for the crime of playing with a toy, jesus fucking christ, can you really just stand there and think “This is normal”?

And to any cops who made it this far down, is this really the world you want to live in? Aren’t you tired of the trauma? Aren’t you tired of the soul sickness inherent to the badge? Aren’t you tired of looking the other way when your partners break the law? Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd, the next Breonna Taylor, the next Tamir Rice? How confident are you that your next use of force will be something you’re proud of? I’m writing this for you too: it’s wrong what our training did to us, it’s wrong that they hardened our hearts to our communities, and it’s wrong to pretend this is normal.

Look, I wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this for much of my life. You reading this now may not be able to hear this yet either. But do me this one favor: just think about it. Just turn it over in your mind for a couple minutes. “Yes, And” me for a minute. Look around you and think about the kind of world you want to live in. Is it one where an all-powerful stranger with a gun keeps you and your neighbors in line with the fear of death, or can you picture a world where, as a community, we embrace our most vulnerable, meet their needs, heal their wounds, honor their dignity, and make them family instead of desperate outsiders?

If you take only three things away from this essay, I hope the third is this: you and your community don’t need bastards to thrive.

RESOURCES TO YES-AND WITH

Achele Mbembe — Necropolitics

Angela Y. Davis — Are Prisons Obsolete?

CriticalResistance.org — Abolition Toolkit

Joe Macaré, Maya Schenwar, and Alana Yu-lan Price — Who Do You Serve, Who Do You Protect?

Ruth Wilson Gilmore — COVID-19, Decarceration, Abolition [video]

#acab

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nostalgicfun · 3 years

Note

Coco shouldn't be in your Halloween movies collection post. Coco is about the day of the dead, thats a mexican tradition about honoring and remembering our loved ones who passed away. Thats nothing like halloween. I asked you kindly to remake your post and out that movie away.

Good afternoon! Thank you for reaching out about the inclusion of Coco! 😊

Coco was added directly to this list by my roommate (and best friend of over a decade!) Leo, who is not only from Mexico, but has played as a Mariachi since he was 14! Leo and his family moved here from Villa Guerrero in the late 90s, and I have learned so, so incredibly much from him and his family since we met ten years ago!

I was making this list while sitting and talking with Leo and was complaining that I was still several movies short. He took one look at the list and said “you forgot Coco!”

I told him that it was a lineup of traditionally spooky movies, and that it would probably be best for me not to include it, and that I had it written down in my doc file to make a separate post about it on the appropriate day. Leo (who has the patience of a saint lol) sat down and explained that as long as Coco is NOT referred to as a Halloween movie, it’s okay in his eyes (and we texted his sister for double validation) to include it on a “Season of Scares” list, as long as I acknowledge that it is NOT a Halloween movie on the day that it comes up. Believe it or not, that’s actually the direct reason why the list is called “Season of Scares” rather than a Halloween lineup; Leo suggested taking out the Halloween phrasing!

He talked about that fact that Coco is commonly completely excluded from October movie lineups with the reasoning “iT’s NoT a HaLlOwEen mOvIe” (his mocking tone, not mine lol) and that leaving it out altogether is, in his opinion, more hurtful in the long run than including it to start with. He’d like to see more people enjoy his culture as long as they can accept and respect Mexican culture for what it is!

As soon as I made the first post, I did queue up a scheduled post for the 16th(the day Coco is on the list) that explains that this was Leo’s personal pick and to ensure that viewers know that it is NOT a Halloween movie! 😊 I have attached a screenshot of said post below.

That being said, you did make me aware that I said “Halloween season” in the original post one time, which I was trying hardcore to avoid, so thank you for making me aware of that. I am deleting all reblogs of this post on my blog and removing the word "Halloween" from the original post. The list is supposed to be a fun autumn/ “spooky” lineup created with the intent to offer fun alternatives to the horror-movie based lineups we usually see this time of year!

I hope this clarifies things. I would absolutely never do anything to step on anyone’s toes. For years I wouldn’t even make traditionally Hispanic dishes for dinner until one day Leo’s mom was like “you know you’re allowed to make tacos at home, right? You can make tacos. You’re not saying you invented tacos you’re allowed to cook them.”

OKAY ADDITIONALLY: I started typing up this response at work. Things like this rattle me pretty bad, so before posting this I walked over and talked to the leader of the LatinX Club here on campus, who is Mexican (as are over 80% of the members) to make sure it was okay of me to stick with what Leo said. I didn't want to come off as "WeLl aCkshUalLy" so I showed her this ask, as well as the lineup and the post I have queued for Coco. Her sentiments seemed to mirror Leo’s: “Add Coco, but speak up! Raise awareness! It’s NOT a Halloween movie, yeah, but it deserves a spot on a spooky list nonetheless!” She, without knowing what Leo said, added that it’s better for non-Hispanic people to add it than to not acknowledge its existence at all, as long as they understand it’s not a Halloween movie! (And I did let her know I'm removing the word "Halloween" from the original post)

In addition, she had a suggestion for ANOTHER Day of the Dead movie that often gets overlooked: The Book of Life! Even I’d never heard of this one, and apparently it’s a Guillermo del Toro movie!? She described it as “Coco adjacent” and told me to “get Sweeney Todd off of that list! That’s not even a little kid friendly. You should have The Book of Life before you have Sweeney Todd." She also pointed out that it has a mostly Hispanic cast!

So on Sweeney Todd's designated day we will be acknowledging The Book of Life instead, as per Mrs. Diaz's request! I was already doubtful about including Sweeney Todd because it's a bit more graphic than I prefer on this blog, so this is basically exactly what I was looking for! ♡

In addition, Mrs. Diaz urges everyone to go see yet another Hispanic (Colombian, I believe) Disney movie coming out: Encanto! Like The Book of Life and Coco, it also features a predominantly Hispanic cast! It will be released this November and focuses on a Colombian family, their culture, and their meaning of family! She points out that non-white Disney movies (and non-white children's movies in general) don't have a history of doing spectacularly in (at?) the box office, so it's important for everyone who wants to support this movie to do so to the best of their ability! (Yes she is sitting beside me while I write this, sorry for the ad lol)

Okay now I’m done. I know internet promises mean just about nothing, but I promise with ever fiber of my miserable little being I would never, EVER step on anyone’s toes or post anything willfully ignorant. Thank you so much for making me aware of the fact that my wording was harmful so that I could rectify the post and prevent any further hurt feelings or misunderstandings!

#''you're white it's your job to tell your followers about encanto''#she said '''blog people'' not followers but still lol

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Forgotten Fairytale

Part 3

Request: Yes or No

“We have two announcements today. First, we have a new student, (Y/N). As some of you may know, (Y/N) is a dragon-vampire hybrid and I expect each and everyone of you to treat him with respect. To whom it may concern, he is not our next monster. We’ve recently encountered a Night Hag.” Alaric announced to the remaining student body that had chosen not to leave. You kept your arms crossed, making eye contact with Hope. You gave her a triumphant smirk and got an eye roll in return.

“A Night Hag is a malevolent spirit trapped on the astral plane that can only interact with us through dreams. In this case, nightmares.” Alaric explained, murmurs spreading through the students.

“So, like, Freddy Kruger?”

“Well, in the sense that what happens to you in your dreams seems to happen to you in real life, yes. But, the good news is we’re safe, so long as we stay awake.” Alaric explained, nodding to the questions. He noticed tension rise and cleared his throat.

“We’ve lined up more evacuation shuttles. They should be running all afternoon, so please, for those who don’t want to stay and fight, take advantage of them.” Alaric licked his lips. You gave a small snort, biting your bottom lip. Ryan had mentioned a possible run in with monsters but he seemed confident in your abilities to protect yourself. Once you had your father back, you’d make sure he faced some monsters of his own. You stood once Alaric dismissed everyone, noticing him motion for you to come over. With a deep sigh, you walked towards the stage he was on.

“I’ve got your classes sorted out. You’ll be taking typical high school courses, plus some of the supernatural courses we typically give to everyone. You’ll have some vampire classes and finally, a one-on-one with Dorian to talk about dragons. Dorian insisted on it. I would like you to speak with Emma, she’s one of our teachers and also the counselor for those who need one.” Alaric explained, handing you a paper. You gave it a once over before looking up at him.

“And why would I need to speak with a counselor? I’m perfectly fine.”

“Considering you walked out on Dorian after a mention of your father, I don’t think you’re fine.” Alaric gave a tight lipped smile, patting your arm as he walked by. You blew a raspberry, looking back down at the paper.

“Oh, and by the way, these uniforms are horrendous.” You called to him, stepping off the stage and making brief eye contact with Hope as she spoke to Landon.

“I have to agree with you on the uniforms being horrendous. We look like preppy golf kids.” You looked at the guy walking beside you.

“All we’re missing are the pants and the golf course.” You grinned, chuckling as the guy nodded and laughed along.

“I’m Kaleb, by the way. I’m a vampire, so I guess that means I’ll be seeing you around.” Kaleb gave a grin. You hummed, looking forward.

“Man, you and those other dudes got lucky. You don’t have to take these exams.”

“But, we do have to deal with the bullshit this school brings.” You stopped by a water fountain, leaning down and drinking from it. Kaleb leaned against the wall, arms crossing.

“Actually, I think that Landon guy was the one who brought the monsters with him. Things went to shit when he got here and-”

“It’s not Landons fault. The knife had been at this school for god knows how long.” You leaned up, wiping your mouth as your gaze fell on Rafael.

“Well, like I said, we gotta deal with the bullshit the school brings.”

“And to do that, we have to be a team. We can’t insult or push each other away.” Rafael said, glancing between you and Kaleb. You let out a small snort, grinning as you shook your head.

“Doesn’t that go against your nature? That’s all mutts know how to do. That and throw temper tantrums.” Kaleb snickered at your words. Rafael sighed, eyes shutting briefly in an attempt to stay calm and relaxed.

“You don’t have to worry about me, puppy. I can be a good teammate as long as you stay out of my way. Same goes for you.” You glanced at Kaleb before turning around and walking away. You walked to your first class, stepping inside and getting ready for a boring day of school.

~~~~~~~~~~

You ran your fingers over the books on the shelves, grabbing one and pulling it out of the shelf. You stepped out of the library and found a nice cushion seat, opening the book and flipping through the pages. You stopped on the one you had been looking for.

Klaus Mikaelson: The Great Evil

Your eyes swept over the writing, searching for any mention of Hope. She was powerful but she hadn’t become a full tribrid yet. You paused, hearing footsteps coming from the hallway along with someone humming softly.

“Dr. Saltzman!”

“”Dr. Saltzman, I have changed my mind. I’ve decided to take you up on your offer and get the hell out with every other sane person here.””

“No, actually, I took your advice and I stayed busy, and I think I found something.” You lifted your head at Landon’s words, hearing their footsteps head back down the hall. You stood up from your seat, turning your head and watching them turn a corner. You looked down at the book in your hands, gently biting your bottom lip.

“I definitely didn’t sign up for this… but I might as well enjoy the ride.” You looked back up, heading down the hall and entering the small library where Landon, Hope, and Alaric were at. You leaned against the railing, watching them speak.

“Why would a monster need to disguise itself as another monster? The Oneiroi sounds freaky enough.” Hope said, glancing between Landon and Alaric.

“Because if we knew what it actually was..”

“We’d know how to stop it.” Alaric finished for him, nodding.

“Hope, kiss him for me.” Alaric said, turning and heading towards the stairs. He looked up, noticing you. He slowed down, head tilting.

“Need something, (Y/N)?” Alaric asked, heading up the stairs. You shook your head, fingers drumming against the book.

“Just eavesdropping.” You shrugged. Alaric let out a small laugh, nodding as he walked by.

“Don’t think you’re off my radar, (Y/N).” Hope called, arms crossing as she cocked a brow at you.

“I’m honored you care so much about me, Red. It’s real sweet, though I think you should be more invested in your boytoy. Keep your eye on this one, Discount Jughead. She seems to have… a wandering eye. You shouldn’t forget who her mother was in love with.” You gave them a wink, turning around. You stepped towards a bookshelf, sliding the book into the shelf.

“What about your family? What were they like?” Hope asked, approaching the stairs. You turned to look at her.

“My mother gave my father a gift and then she left. At least she didn’t die because of me.” You leaned forward slightly as she got closer. Hope stopped a few feet from you, jaw clenching.

“You know nothing about me.”

“I could say the same, Red. I might’ve been a dick when I was younger but atleast I never tried to kill someone who loves me and raised me. You had a mother who was invested in you and loved you. It would’ve never crossed my mind to hurt my father, no matter how pissed I was.” You sneered, watching her facade begin to crumble. Hope remained silent for a few passing minutes.

“We should probably tell the others about our new discovery.” Landon piped up softly. Hope turned her head towards him, nodding.

“Yeah, I.. I have a plan.” Hope breathed out, looking back at you.

“Making enemies on your first day is the stupidest idea you’ve probably come up with.” Hope said, brushing past you. Landon slowly walked up the stairs, awkwardly approaching you.

“Hope is a.. She’s a good person-”

“You don’t have to defend her when she’s not around, My Chemical Romance.” You stared at him, giving a small eye roll.

“Why are you such a dick?”

“Well, my dad told me my mom was a bit of a bitch. I probably got it from her.” You shrugged, turning around and leaving the library. You heard Landon catch up with you.

“I was in the foster system for most of my life. I can understand some of your feelings regarding not knowing your mom and-”

“Listen, Gerard Way, I’m not interested in being your friend. I’ve been taught and shown that humans are the least trustworthy creatures on this planet. It’s better to be alone than to trust a human. They’re like chihuahuas. They think they’re at the top when they’re actually at the bottom and I’d rather not have my life in the hands of one.” You looked at him.

“Fair comparison.” Landon mumbled. “But, some humans are good and they mean well-”

“We can have this conversation after I take a nap.” You entered the lounge area where Hope had gathered the rest of the boys. Hope explained that the Night Hag was actually an Oneiroi.

“I know it sounds bad, but now that we know what the creature is, we can fight it.”

“How the hell are we supposed to kill a dream demon?”

“Leave that to me. But since I can’t fall asleep without compromising the location of the urn, I need someone else to pull it out of the dream plane and into our waking reality.” Hope explained, looking over everyone.

“So, Freddy Krueger, like I said.” Another vampire, MG, pointed out.

“And how the hell are we supposed to do that?” Rafael asked, looking back at Hope.

“By entering the dream plane, getting a hold of it, and waking yourself up.” You answered, shrugging lightly.

“Just like in the movies.” MG nodded in agreement to your response. Kaleb hummed, nodding.

“Is it too late to get on the evacuation bus?” Kaleb asked, tilting his head as you snorted. Hope gave a sympathetic look.

“No. I mean, I’m not gonna ask all of you to stay for this, it has to be your choice.” Hope said, silence following. Landon quickly stood up.

“I’m not leaving unless Hope does.” Landon said. Hope didn’t seem exactly thrilled as she gave a small hum. She looked at Rafael, brows raised in question.

“I’m not leaving Landon behind.”

“You two are very codependent.” You mumbled, hearing Kaleb snicker and nod.

“I’m a founding member of the Super Squad-”

“The fuck is a ‘Super Squad’?”

“-So I can’t bail.” MG stood up from his seat with a supporting smile. The four of them turned towards you and Kaleb.

“Y’all are gonna get yourselves killed.” Kaleb said, looking at Hope.

“But if MG stays, I stay.” He added with a sigh, looking at you.

“This reeks of drama and chaos so, I’m definitely staying and watching this go down.” You grinned, shrugging lightly. “But I’m not gonna be a member of this.. ‘Super Squad’ shit you have going on.”

“In that case, it’s naptime.” Hope said, giving a small nod.

“I’ll go speak with Dr. Saltzman. Get set up in the gym. Bring blankets, pillows, and anything else that might help you fall asleep.” Hope walked past them and Landon quickly followed.

“Codependency is a big problem here, huh?” You shook your head, glancing at Kaleb. You grabbed one of the pillows off the couch and turned, heading towards the gym. You watched the others bring the necessary stuff, Hope and Landon entering while deep in what seemed like an argument.

“You are gonna sleep with us, right?” Kaleb asked, noticing you hadn't made a small bed like they had.

“No.” You shook your head, arms crossing.

“What do you mean, no?” Landon frowned, brows furrowing.

“You don’t want to see me wake up from a nightmare. Accidental shifting and accidental arson isn’t pretty.” You shrugged lightly. Hope hummed.

“We don’t need a confused dragon causing an accident.” Hope looked at the rest of the guys. They lied down in a circle, slowly falling asleep one by one. Hope stepped towards you, closely watching each of them.

“It was a shit move to bring up your mom. I’ve been on edge since dad disappeared.” You said quietly, ignoring the surprised look Hope gave you.

“Sorry for that.” You walked away from her, careful to be quiet so as to not wake them up. You noticed each of the boys becoming more twitchy, faces contorted in confusion or fear as the hours began to pass.

“How come you aren’t tired?” Hope asked softly.

“You think I could sleep with my only family gone?” You looked at her with raised brows. Hope nodded, looking down to see that Rafael, MG, and Kaleb had stopped twitching as much.

“It’s almost time.” Hope turned, quickly leaving the gym. You gently toyed with your necklace, licking your lips and turning to face the boys when they all suddenly awoke. They stood and began talking all at once, making you huff in annoyance.

“Calm down, Hope’s handling it.”

“What? What the hell-” Landon was cut off by Oneiroi and Hope crashing through one of the doors. Hope quickly got up, blowing some hair out of her face.

“Stay back, I got this.” She called, running forward and tackling the demon before promptly getting choked.

“Yeah, she’s totally got this.” You mumbled, picking up two wooden pieces that had belonged to the now broken doors. You approached her, stabbing the pieces through the demons’ eyes. Hope let out a gasp for breath as the demon disappeared into a cloud.

“Thank you.” She coughed, rubbing her throat.

“Next time, be prepared.” You stood, letting Landon help her up as Alaric rushed in with his crossbow. You tossed the wood aside, turning and walking past Alaric. You thought back on the urn and Hope mentioning she knew where it was. Befriending her to find it would be a problem in itself.

“(Y/N)!” Alaric called after you, quickly jogging after you. You turned to face him, raising a brow.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for helping Hope. How’d you know how to kill it?” Alaric asked.

“Like I said, dragons don’t just horde inanimate objects. I like to read as a pastime and most of the time, the books have to do with the supernatural.” You answered, shrugging lightly. Alaric nodded, reaching out and gently touching your arm.

“Thank you.. I’m sure Hope appreciates it.” Alaric gave a small smile. You nodded, licking your lips as Alaric turned and went to check on everyone. He passed by Hope who gave him a small smile and nod. She turned her head to look at you, arms gently wrapping around herself. She slowly approached you, gaze on the ground.

“I know you could’ve just let me get hurt but.. Thank you for helping me. I know we got off on a terrible foot so, I hope we can be a bit more civil with each other.”

“We’ll see.”

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x male!reader #legacies x reader #legacies #legacies x y/n #legacies x you #legacies x male reader #hope mikaelson #kaleb hawkins #milton greasley #landon kirby #alaric saltzman #rafael waithe #x dragon reader

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velvetcloxds · 3 years

Text

CURVES| D.H.

Pairing: Derek x fem!Reader

Word count: 1885 words

Warning: discussing body image, negative opinion of body, body comparison

Summary: Reader and Derek have been friends for years. Derek finds her in her kitchen worrying over having to go swimming with Lydia and reader explains her struggle with her body image.

“I don’t know.” I say, holding my books tighter against my chest as I follow Lydia to the bleachers. She frowns.

“Please,” She begs, grabbing my arms and pulling me to a stop. “It’s been forever since we did anything together, just the girls,” She explains and looks back to where Jackson and the other lacrosse players are walking out of the school building. “I need a night without lacrosse talk.” She says and I smile lightly at her little eyes roll, but frown again when she looks back at me for a reply.

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” I ask and she nods with a satisfied smile and I sigh loudly. “Can I convince you to do anything else?” She shakes her head quickly.

“Shopping and sunbathing, Y/n. It’s all we need, “ She says, linking our arms as we start walking again. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning and we’ll go get some new bikini’s before going to the lake house,” She informs me and nods at Jackson who is waving her over to the bench. “Duty calls. Stop pouting it’s going to be fun.” She tells me and boops my nose before scurrying away towards Jackson and I shake my head with a smile as I watch her leave. I stay still for a while, making sure she reaches him without being hassled by anyone and then turn to leave, already dreading the weekend ahead, even though it’s quite literally just begun.

I fall into step quite quickly, only pausing to put my books into my bag before walking home. My parents are working late again, so I have the house for myself for a couple of hours, but if history has taught me anything, it’s that Derek Hale tends to show up unplanned and unfed, whenever he wants. Not that I mind, it’s always been like that and only more so since the fire.

I lock the door behind me, throwing my bag onto the couch and heading to the kitchen. I shake my head when I see Derek’s car parked in the backyard, just like I thought it would be and grab the pizza bites out of the freezer. The stairs creek behind me as the microwave starts doing its thing and I throw the empty box away.

“How did you get in here?” I ask, turning around just as he takes a seat at the table. “The door was locked.” I add with an amused smile as he stares up at me.

“But your window wasn’t.” He says and smirks happily. I shake my head as I slip onto the counter.

“Derek, my bedroom is a mess.” I say, only now remembering that I was too lazy to clean it up before going to school. Derek nods his head quickly, brows raised for effect.

“Hell yeah, it is,” He says and shrugs. “Don’t freak out, you know I don’t mind,” He adds sweetly and I smile over at him before focusing my attention on my folded legs, fiddling with my fingers as the sound of the microwave fills the room. I hear him sigh softly, moving in his chair. “What’s up?” He asks and I shrug.

“Nothing.” I reply too quickly and he scoffs.

“Bullshit,” I look up at him surprised. “I can literally smell that you’re not okay,” He informs me and I raise my brow at him in confusion. He rolls his eyes. “Chemo signals, Y/n. Now tell me what’s going on?” I think it over for a moment before shaking my head with a sigh.

“You wouldn’t understand.” I say and the alarm from the microwave pings to tell me it’s done and I use that as a momentary distraction, jumping down and getting it, placing it down in front of him.

“On account of the fact that I’m not of the feminine variety or no longer of the teenage variety?” He asks, lightly grabbing my wrist to stop me from leaving. I shrug again and he nods. “Ahh, both.” He uses his foot to push back a chair and then smiles as I rip my arm away from him. “Sit. And talk.” He orders and I roll my eyes as I take a seat next to him, watching as he grabs a pizza bite from the plate.

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Most things are,” He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be here for you anyway.” I let out a loud breath, reaching for a pizza bite, but pulling my hand back slowly, he watches the gesture carefully, raising a brow at me.

“You know Lydia, right?” I ask and he thinks it over before nodding, chewing slowly as he waits for more information. “Would you say that she is, I don’t know, good looking?” I ask and he leans back in his chair with a shrug.

“I guess.”

“Exactly,” I almost shout and he flinches, furrowing his brows as I settle back down in my chair. “Exactly.” I repeat, calmer this time. “She’s very pretty and her hair is silky and she’s in perfect shape, like the perfect possible shape. One could go as far as to say that she’s like the perfect example of what we’re expected to look like.”

“We, being all girls?” He asks and I nod, leaning onto the table with my elbows.

“Yes.” I look down at the table. “Except that not everyone does look like that, perfect,” I say and frown. “Some of us aren’t as one would say, skinny.” I clarify and look up to find him smiling lightly, leaning onto the table as well, he looks me over slowly.

“I really hope this isn’t you hating on yourself right now, because you’re literally ridiculously beautiful and I’d be damned if you’ve somehow convinced yourself otherwise.” He says in an effortlessly smooth tone that would usually prompt me to blush, but I roll my eyes instead.

“Okay, you saying that doesn’t count.” I say, taking a pizza bite and munching on it. He scoffs.

“Why not?” I laugh softly.

“You’re like family, Derek. There’s some sort of inclined niceness that goes with it, you have to say shit like that. It’s like a mom telling you that your dress is nice or my brother telling me my hair doesn’t look horrible. It doesn’t count.” He raises a brow, sitting back quickly, his face disgusted as he looks at me.

“Okay, first of all, I’m not like a brother and please don’t put me in a position to act as such because then the way I look at you would be rather questionable,” He says, looking over at me seriously to make sure I get what he means, and I bite my lip to hide a smile forming. “And secondly…” He looks me over again, eyes darker as he smiles at me. “When I called you beautiful, I was also implying how crazy hot you are, which doesn’t sound like a compliment, but bloody hell you’re in no position to think you’re ugly.” He ends and despite myself, I feel my cheeks warming up. I swallow slowly as I look back to the table, not sure what to say until his hand numbly takes hold of mine on the table. “Not everyone looks the same, doesn’t mean that you’re ugly by default, it just means you have a different form of beauty.” He tells me, tone softer this time.

“You really think that?” I ask, fingers folding around his own around his own. He smiles.

“Of course, I do.” He says and tilts his head to get my attention. “Do you know me to say something just because I know that it’s what you want to hear?” I laugh lightly as I shake my head and his smile grows as a result. “Exactly. Now, don’t let me ever hear you talking down on yourself again, you’re much more than just your body. Doesn’t matter what size or shape you’re in, I’ll always think you’re pretty bloody brilliant. “

“Thank you,” I reply softly and gently pull my hand away from his when I realize that I haven’t let go yet. “You want something to drink?” I ask, standing up from the chair awkwardly, he laughs lightly while he nods and I pretend not to notice as I walk over to the fridge. It’s silent for a second and the plate scuffs against the table as he eats another few pizza bites.

“I mean it, you know,” He says, confusing me as I place our glasses down on the table. “You might be my default family, but I do not see you as my sister,” He clarifies and I clearly am not doing a good job of hiding my shock or the fact that I obviously don’t see him as a brother either. He laughs. “You really think that I come here everyday for the pizza bites?” He asks and I shrug.

“We do buy the good brand.” I say, mockingly and he rolls his eyes, far from serious or annoyed.

“You do. But I come here for you,” He announces like it’s nothing and my heart does a full-on backflip because holy shit, this man can’t possibly be serious. He smiles. “I heard that.” He says and looks at my chest when the embarrassment makes my heart beat even faster, he smiles likes he’s achieved something great and then gets up from his chair, picking up the empty plate as he does. I frown.

“Wait does this mean that…”

“Oh, I’ve been very much aware of our shared attraction for quite some time,” He says and my mouth all but falls open as I stare at him, a look he completely ignores while he puts the plate in the sink. “Speaking of, are you free tomorrow?” He asks me casually and I shake my head because clearly words will fail me. He nods. “Next weekend then, you can wear that red dress you hide in the back of your closet, the one that shows your curves,” He smiles when I stare at him blankly. “I really do love your curves, Y/n.” He informs me as he starts heading to the door, making me stand up as well.

“Where are you going?”

“Your mom is on her way home,” He informs me and shrugs. “And truth be told, I think I might send you into shock if I stay any longer.” He explains and once again steals a glance at my chest where even I can hear my heart nearly exploding.

“You didn’t drink your juice.” I say and he folds his arms in front of him, smirking with a raised brow.

“I think you need it more than I do. Cool down and all that.” He says and I gasp.

“Derek Hale,” I say, walking towards him. “I did not peg you as the type of guy who just shamelessly flirts with his best friend.” I say, stilling in front of him. He smiles.

“I think there’s a lot of things you might not know about me, Y/n.” He says and looks over at the door when my mom pulls into the driveway. He leans forward slightly, kissing the top of my head sweetly, completely contrasting his words before pulling away. “I think this is going to be fun.”

Hi there, more of my work can be found on Wattpad under @mjoubert. Mxx.

Masterlist

#derekhale x reader #derek x reader #derek hale one shot #derek hale imagines #derek hale #teenwolf x reader #teen wolf

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aishiteruuu · 3 years

Text

"I always knew you were mine, Angel."

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem! Reader.

➽───────────────❥

Sypnosis: You've been raising your and someone else's child. Ever since a accidental one night stand, you got a little tipsy one night, and had someone else's kid 9 months later.. But, when you enroll your kid in soccer practice.. You and the coach have a strange connection..

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, and breeding. NSFW (slightly), Pet names, such as "Bunny' or "Angel". "Sir" kink. Dom! Sukuna. (Slightly) Pre-named kid! And Dad-mentions. Size-kink. Car-session.

CW: All the characters are at the correct age to intervene or comply with the storyline!

Word count: 2.1k words!

➽───────────────❥

You were driving Yuto to soccer practice, looking back in the review mirror at him. "Don't worry munch! You'll do so well!" You tried cheering him on. You knew he was nervous, you could see it in his face. But you were always distracted by your kid's looks. He had bright hazel-pink hair, with your eye color, and shape. And the cutest little nose that looks just like yours. Topping it off with a cute little dimple on his left cheek. He looked back your eyes in the review mirror, and sighed.

"Mom.. What if I mess up? I don't know how to play soccer!" He whined into his hands, kicking the seat slightly. "Munch. That's why you're going to practice! I'm sure there are other kids there who don't know how to play! Nobody's born and becomes a soccer prodigy!" You tried lighting his mood again.

"Well, all my friends had a dad to teach them things, why don't I?" He asked, with his hands tugging at the seat-belt. You tried dodging the question, asking him short questions instead. But he wanted an answer, so there you were. "Well.. Munch, I Don't really know where your dad is." You gulped, hoping he wouldn't continue. You really wanted to tell him the truth, but you couldn't just lay it on the table, and say- "Sweetie, I have No clue where your dad is. We haven't talked at all, and We barely talked when we met. Well.. not with words, to be nice."

"Makes sense! Onodera's dad travels a lot too!" He smiled, with his dimple-cuteness activating. You smiled at him, finally pulling up to the gym. You always questioned why this place was so big when you came here as a child. It was a sky-blue, with silver and yellow Pillars. You thought that the Pillar colors represented something, but there wasn't a mascot. Not if you count the Peeling paint on the side making the deformed shape of a cresent. You softly grabbed Yuto's hand, asking him if he tied his cleets, or if he needed to pee.

"I'm fine, Mom. But I won't be if you keep making me nervous." He muttered slightly. You run your hands through his hair. Still leading him to the gym room doors. You see a slightly tall figure, with Hair that reminds you of snow. The figure had on a very slick red jacket, with words that read,

"Nekoma high graduate!" On it. It looked pretty worn out, with a rip on the bottom of the sleeve, And a cat with spots on it. He seemed so proud of it, doing some weird motion with his arms. He greeted you with a smile, tugging at the cloth over his eyesight. "Well.. How do you do, Madomoiselle?" He attempted, biting his lip slightly. You laughed nervously, and greeted him with a goofy-smile. "Hello there.. Mr Satoru?" You peeped at his colorful nametag before smiling back at him. "This is my little munch, Yuto!" You cheered slightly, giving Yuto a little nudge.

"Hey there, kiddo! You're the spitting image of your hot mom." Gojo smiled, giving him a little push. "You'll do great out there. Now go- I have to get your mom to sign me some papers. And maybe her number-"

You cut Gojo off, with a kiss to Yuto's forehead, and a few extra cheers. You smile at the sight of Yuto's feet scuffing the floors with his shadow, and tell him you'll be in there right after. Gojo looked at you, them gave a big smile. "Miss, you have the eyes of a woman that's trying to cope. What's the issue? If you don't mind me asking."

You sighed, reading the paper Gojo handed you. It metioned something about a new coach, and how they'll be games every other day. You signed your name, and replied.. "Well, Yuto is starting to ask more and more about his dad lately, and his dad isn't really.. Y'know-"

"Hm,, Sounds like someone got a little saucy, yeah?" Gojo joked, bumping your elbow with his arm. You gave him a smile, and muttered an insult that made him laugh. He grabbed the paper, and smiled. "Well, Ms Y/n! Even though I don't see your number on this paper, I'll accept it."

"I'm sure I'll see you again, Mr Satoru." You smiled. "But- It won't involve my digits in your hotline, Mister." Gojo laughed, and gave you another smile. "Fair, Fair. But I'll always be here for the party, purrrrincess~" He made a pun, motioning to the cat on his jacket. You gave him an "Mmhm." and laughed a little.

You walk into the gymnasium practice room, seeing Yuto talking to a very tall man. The man was very slender, with slight broad shoulders. His figure was dream-made, with long, gentle bu slightly big looking arms, and very long legs that moved up to his sized torso, and shaped face. Tracing to his hazel-pink hair, with a messy hairstyle. "Christ- What does this man do for a living to be looking like a full course?" You thought to yourself, trying not to stare. You sat yourself on the bleachers, looking at how Yuto looking kicking the ball straight into the goal, avoiding all the blocks and built-up tension of his teamates. You laughed to yourself. "All that talk about not being good, and look at you go. Kicking that thing with no mercy." You felt a presence on the side of you, as you looked over.

The man had sat bedside you, looking at the sight you were only just gazing on seconds ago. "Good evening, Miss." He said holding out his hand.

Why so formal? It's just soccer. "Good evening, sir! How do you do?" You asked, taking Gojo's line. Sukuna chuckled a little, and gave you a little smile. "That's that idiot Satoru's line, isn't it?" He asked, shaking his head jokingly. You laughed, making his eyes widen slightly. He had noticed your familar laugh, wondering where he heard it from. He shook the lingering thoughts in his head, and tried to break the sem-comfortable silence. "Is that your boy?"

You shifted your vision back to Yuto on the field. "Yeah, he's mine." You replied. Sukuna admired your features, your hair that blew from the air circulation, your eyes that sparkled in any angle the light shone in.. His eyes moved their way to your legs.. then your waist, which he wanted to touch, then your chest- Which he paused on. He fastly took his eyes off of you, blushing.

You look over at him, and ask if he's okay, because you see that his cheeks are a little red. "Yes, Yes. I'm fine.. Just a little hot." He responded. You got up, telling him you were going to get ice. He pulled you back down gently, and gave you "It's okay's". He wanted you to stay, so he could admire you some more. He had felt this before.. Like Deja Vu. He knew he'd seen you up close like this somewhere, but it felt closer. Sukuna was tempted to ask "Have me met somewhere before?" But didn't want to sound strange.

You smile, as he told you not to worry, and slipped off his coat. You still worried for him a bit, feeling his face to make sure it wasn't too hot. He flinched at the feel of your touch.. He swore he felt your soft hands on him once. And he finally came to ask. "Miss.. Y/n, do we know eachother?" He asked, adjusting his glasses.

You didn't know whether you did or not. You did know that his cologne scent was so mesmerizing, yet familar. You had smelled it somewhere.. And it was really comforting. "I'm not sure, Sir." He gave you a smile, showing a dimple on his left cheek, that looked just like Yuto's. "Call me crazy, but.. You look like my Little Yuto over there, Sir." Sukuna cleared his throat, and looked away. "You think? I think we look similar aswell."

You both realized the sense. With Sukuna's looks.. And your Genes, you both were inmates. Partners. Maybe.. Lovers. You refused to believe that your 6 year old kid's dad was his new soccer coach. "If you don't mind me asking.. How long has it been since you've engaged in those.. Activites Ms?" He asked you, trying not to be weird.

"Well, since I got fucked, and pregnant? Maybe a few years." You wanted to say. "Well, It's been a few years. Since 7 years ago?" You gave him an answer. "It wasn't really.. A official thing."

"Maybe we can make it official, Angel? I already know who you are." Sukuna asked himself, rotating his fingers. "I understand. My last encounter was also about 7 years ago."

"My next will be soon.. Angel~" He smirked to himself. "There's always a right time for everything." He smiled, patting your shoulder. "Maybe we can talk after practice?" He said, walking off. You took off your serious face, and started flushing. The scent of his cologne made you a little aroused, which you found strange. You wanted to smell it more and more, until you couldn't anymore.

Practice was finally over, and you went over to collect Yuto, who was talking to another boy. Yuto looked back at you, and gave a flustered smile, before returning to the boy. You always knew Yuto had some type of affection for boys. So you'd let him have that friendship. You went to go give him his tennis shoes, when Sukuna pulled you aside.

"Gojo will take care of the kids. Please, wait for me at the door." He told you, patting your shoulder. You listened, walking to the door. You saw Gojo doing some silly walk leading the kids outside, Yuto's new friend waved at you. And you waved back, winking at Yuto. You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you jumped.

"Don't worry, It's only me, Angel." Sukuna calmly said.

Angel. Angel. Angel. Angel. It finally hit you. That name that you were called so long ago. The name you were obsessed with that one night of your life. The name you had written down in your book. "Who are you? Sukuna?" You asked, backing away slowly.

"..Hm, I'd perfer If you'd call me Sir like you were." He smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Go on.. Your baby daddy is waiting, Angel." He teased, loosening his tie.

"You can't just- This is wrong. I haven't seen you in years, and you want to just come on me like this?" You said, trying to push him away.

"No Angel, I'm trying to make up for it.. You know how lonely It's been for 7 years? Without the sweet, small little Angel that I love?" Sukuna asked, thumbing your lips. "Then if you love me, why'd you leave me laying in a inn? Not even an explanation. And you missed 7 whole years of your child's life." You shot back.

"Well, there's the rest of it to make up for lost time, No?" He whispered in your ear, nibbling it slightly. You flushed, and your breathing got heavy by the scent of his cologne coming back to you. "We're in a gym, Suku- Sir.." You whispered, getting nervous by the second.

In the car, wasn't maybe the right choice. You had forgotten how big Sukuna was. He was huge. You didn't think you could take him at all. "Don't be scared, I'll go slow. Get loose Angel, we're making up for lost time." Sukuna whispered in your ear, touching your bare waist. "Now won't you be a good little angel, and spread those legs for me?"

#jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x fem! reader

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bex-la-get · 3 years

Note

I love the new prompt! Can I request 5 and 6 for Ethan and Natalie, thank you!

NONNY! You put together the BEST combo! Yes, I love this, let's go!

Note: This takes place in an AU where Nat and Ethan confessed their love for each other, but Nat decided to leave Edenbrook after her residency.

And fair warning: this is gonna be long.

From this ask list.

5) “...you look like you just saw a ghost.”

6) “I... I can’t believe it’s really you. I thought I’d never see you again.”

Five years. Five long years since Natalie had left Edenbrook.

In those five years, she had thrived. After taking a position in the Internal Medicine Department at LAC + USC Medical Center in Los Angeles, Natalie had revamped the medical industry. From fighting Big Pharma companies-- such as Panacea-- on overcharging for basic life-saving medicines and winning to using her experience of saving Naveen's life to revolutionize patient care and saving countless lives, Natalie had become a household name in the medical community and the world.

Ethan had watched from afar via social media and the occasional television interview she had done. He couldn't be prouder of Nat; she had far surpassed anyone's expectations and was reaching new heights every day. But as proud as he was, he couldn't help but feel a bit sad.

He still loved her. He always would. And while he was thrilled Natalie was succeeding in her career-- and he would never ask her to stop doing what she loved-- he silently hoped one day she would come home. That one day, she would come back to him.

He knew it was unlikely. Still, if there was anything Natalie had taught him, it was to never give up on the person you knew you were meant to be with. And he knew Nat was that person for him. So, until he was proven otherwise, he'd hold out hope for her. Always.

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

Ethan was walking the halls of Edenbrook, mentally checking off the to-do list for the Board Meeting he had that afternoon, when he saw a familiar head of bright red hair. He almost brushed it off until he heard that all-to-familiar laugh and his heart nearly stopped.

Natalie.

He turned to find the source and saw Nat talking to Sienna and Jackie, looking every bit the successful doctor she had become. What she was doing here, he didn't know; but he didn't very much care. She was here, she was back. But for how long?

Without realizing it, Ethan's feet carried him towards her. He had to see her in person; had to hear her voice and to see her smile.

As he got closer, Sienna spotted him first and she smiled. "Oh, hi Ethan!"

He smiled at Sienna but was quickly distracted by the blue-green eyes he'd missed so much. The moment Natalie spotted him, she grinned and his heart began to pound in his chest. If it were possible, she was more beautiful now than ever; and yet barely anything had changed. Her hair was longer, her face a little more mature and she held herself with all the confidence in the world. But she was still Natalie. She was still his Rookie.

"Ethan!" Natalie said, making her way towards him.

He outstretched his arms and relished in the hug she gave him, enjoying this brief moment where she was back in his arms. "It's good to see you, Rookie," he said, as she pulled away.

She smiled. "I don't know if I'm much of a rookie anymore."

He returned her smile. "You'll always be Rookie to me." There was such fondness in his words that Nat's eyes shined with admiration for a brief moment. His heart was pounding so hard right now, it was a miracle it hadn't burst out of his chest yet.

"What are you doing here? Just visiting?"

"Actually, I was hoping to meet with you, Chief," she replied. "I'd like to talk to you about something."

He raised his eyebrows, intrigued. "Well, you caught me at a good time. I have some time before my next meeting if right now works for you?"

She nodded and waved goodbye to Sienna and Jackie, promising to meet up with them later, and followed Ethan to his office. He closed the door behind them, ensuring their conversation would be private and turned to face her again, sucking in a breath as he met her eyes.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I-- I just can't believe it's really you. I thought I'd never see you again."

She smiled sheepishly. "I did do a pretty bad job of staying in touch, didn't I?"

He shook his head. "You've been busy saving the world," he said. "You have no reason to be sorry for that. But, if I may, I've been following your career, Nat. And I'm very proud of the work you've accomplished. You've become quite the doctor."

She blushed. "Thank you; you know I couldn't have done it without your guidance. You taught me everything I know."

"Now that certainly can't be true; you know far more now than I could have ever taught you."

She chuckled. "Well, maybe a little."

He smiled and fought every urge he had to take her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Keep it together, Ethan. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, you said you had something you wanted to talk to me about. Please, take a seat." He sat behind his desk as she sat across from him and pulled out a black folder from her bag.

"Yes, well," she began, "I've enjoyed my time in LA and I'm proud of the work I've accomplished. But Boston will always be home to me-- though don't tell my mom that, she's still hoping I'll move back to Philly." Ethan chuckled and nodded as Nat continued. "I-- I miss home. I miss Edenbrook. I miss y-- my friends. And... I may or may not have seen that the DT has an opening for the lead position and I thought I'd throw my name in the ring. For the job."

She placed the folder on his desk. "Everything you need to know about the work I've done over the last five years is in this folder and I have several character references, including one from the Chief at LAC. I've also included my notes that I'll be referencing for my book that will be coming out early next year and--"

"Nat," Ethan cut her off. "There's no need for all this. The job is yours."

She looked at him wide-eyed. "What? Just like that? Don't you want to field questions? Ask me about how I'd handle certain situations?"

"I don't need to; I told you, I've been following your career. I know of the work you've done and I've seen first hand how good of a doctor you are. I don't need to field questions, Nat. If you want the job, it's yours."

She smiled. "Thank you, Ethan. I can't describe how grateful I am. I know the team means a lot to you; I'll do you proud."

"You already do."

She blushed. "So, what's next?"

"I'll get the paperwork filled out and sent to HR. Assuming everything goes smoothly and HR doesn't drag their feet, we can have you start as early as next week," Ethan said. "Unless you need more time to settle in?"

Nat shook her head. "No, I already have a place lined up. I'm just crashing with Sienna and Bryce for a couple nights while the movers bring everything up."

Ethan nodded. "Alright; well, I'll get the paperwork set up shortly." He extended his hand out to her. "Welcome back to Edenbrook, Dr. Cusack."

"It's good to be back," she said, shaking his hand. They smiled at each other for a long moment, neither wanting to let go of each other's hand. Natalie seemed to be searching Ethan's eyes for something before she spoke again. "Ethan-- er, I'm going to Donahue's this evening with everyone to celebrate my return to Boston. You're welcome to join us, if you'd like."

He smiled and nodded. "I might stop by for a bit."

Her face lit up. "Okay; then I'll see you there." She slowly-- almost reluctantly-- slid her hand out of Ethan's and grabbed her bag. "See you later then, boss."

He walked her to the door, smiling. "It's really good to see you, Nat," he said. "I-- I'm glad you're back."

The look she gave him nearly took his breath away. If he were mistaken-- and he rarely ever was-- he'd say she looked at him the same way he looked at her: madly in love. "Me too," she said. They looked at each other for another long moment before she looked down at her shoes and cleared her throat. "I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah, see you tonight," he said. He watched as she left and took a deep breath in an attempt to slow his pounding heart. She was back. She was home. It was as if all his hopes and dreams from the last five years were finally coming true. But there was one big question that still needed answering: Did she still want him the way he wanted her?

Only one way to find out.

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

Donahue's was packed. Ethan had forgotten it was Wednesday, which meant half-off drinks for all EB employees. It was something Reggie had implemented a few years ago in order to get more weekday business. It had worked a little too well and Reggie had to hire more people to keep up with the demand; but business was booming as a result so it wasn't like anyone could complain.

He'd found Nat and her friends easily; they had commandeered one of the biggest booths in the place and were currently taking tequila shots, courtesy of Jackie.

"Jacks, we're not in our twenties anymore," Natalie reasoned as she pushed a tequila shot away from her. "I can't do several shots in a row and still be a human being the next morning!"

"That's quitters talk!" Jackie argued but relented when Nat gave her the unwanted tequila shot. "More fun for me!"

Natalie laughed and shook her head in disbelief, when she spotted Ethan. Her smile grew and she excused herself from the table, getting up to greet him. He returned her smile and welcomed the hug she gave him, once again relishing in the feeling of having her in his arms. "I was wondering when you were going to show," she said, as she pulled away.

He chuckled. "Sorry; being Chief means I have a lot of extra paperwork that needs to be taken care of."

She shook her head. "You're here now. Come on, we're due for another round, anyway, so you came at a good time."

"Actually," he grabbed her hand, stopping her from walking away. "Could-- could we talk for a moment? Privately?"

She nodded, curiosity evident on her face, and followed him outside to the patio which was, surprisingly, empty. Not that Ethan minded; having the patio to themselves meant less prying eyes and ears. He sat at one of the tables and smiled to himself when Nat sat next to him.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yeah; I just... Nat, I realize this might not be very professional of me but I need to know." He turned to face her and took a deep breath. "Before you left, you told me you loved me. Do-- do you still feel that way?"

She rolled her lips together in anticipation to answer and he braced himself for rejection. Instead, she took his hand in hers and said the word he desperately needed to hear. "Yes."

"Really?" He almost couldn't believe what he was hearing.

She nodded. "If I'm being honest, Ethan, part of the reason I moved back to Boston was because I missed you, desperately. I still love you. I always will."

He fought back tears and caressed her cheek with his free hand. "I never stopped loving you, either, Nat. I always hoped you'd come home; come back to me. But I couldn't have asked that of you, especially as your career began to thrive."

She smiled. "I know you wouldn't; it's not in your nature." She scooted closer to him on the bench. "But as happy as I've been in my career, I've always been missing one thing: you." She sighed. "I wouldn't take back the success I've had over the years; I wouldn't give up the career I've built for myself because I'm extremely proud of it. But... I can't help but wonder what could've been if I hadn't left. Where would we be? Maybe running the DT together; maybe we would've gotten married, had a couple kids, maybe got a house in the suburbs. I feel like there's a whole life we could've had if I didn't leave."

"We can't sit here and wonder what could have happened, Nat," he reasoned. "You needed to leave to find your footing, spread your wings, and flourish into the incredible doctor you are today. Don't sell yourself short; the things you've accomplished are nothing to sneeze at." He looked at their joined hands and ran his thumb along her knuckles. "I would never ask you to give up your dreams or put your career on hold for me. It killed me to watch you leave but to see you thrive was more than I could have ever asked for."

"Thank you," she said, quietly. She took a deep breath. "But, since I'm home now, and I plan on staying here... maybe we can pick up where we left off? Try the whole dating thing again? And everyone knows I've made a name for myself on my own so you don't have to worry about anyone saying I slept my way to the DT position."

He chuckled and nodded. "Good point." He squeezed her hand. "I would love to pick up where we left off; if that's what you want?" She nodded and he smiled. "Good; because that's all I want too."

Moving faster than he could process, Natalie cupped his face in her hands and kissed him soundly. He melted into the kiss immediately and kissed her back feverishly, his hands gripping themselves tightly around her hips as he pulled her impossibly closer.

Though it had been years, kissing her was so familiar and natural that it was as if no time had passed between them. Her lips fit perfectly with his, full of unspoken words of love and passion. Five years had passed since he last held her in his arms or kissed her, but in an instant, those five years were gone. The only thing that was left was the two of them, making up for lost time with forever spread out ahead of them.

Tag List below the cut:

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @paulfwesley @ethansdique @openheartfanfics @perriewinklenerdie @little-flowers-on-heaven @stateofgracious @coffeeheartaddict @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @mm2305 @gryffindordaughterofathena @actuallybored @writer-ish @queencarb @takeharryandgo @lsvdw-blog @itsjustwinter @imaneditorthankyouverymuch-deac @chaoticchopshopheart @ohchoices @maurine07 @oldminniemcg @parisa-kh @shanzay44 @uberamsey @izzyourresidentlawyer @adiehardfan @custaroonie @mia143 @a-crepusculo @takemyopenheart @toadfrog26 @quixoticdreamer16 @barbean @headoverheelsforramsey @natureblooms24 @choicesaddict5

#bex answers #asked and answered #anonymous asks #random dialogue prompts #ethan ramsey #natalie cusack #ethan x natalie #ethan x mc #open heart mc #bexwritesstuff

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impala1967dwinchester · 3 years

Text

Dean Winchester: Hurting inside and out

*Credit to the gif owner*

Pairing: AU!History Teacher!Dean x Student!Reader

Pov: Dean (Reader to aged to be 16 and in high school)

Warnings: tw: Abuse tw: Only child tw: Mental health tw: Panic Attacks tw: Anxiety Attacks tw: Anxiety tw: Abuse of a child tw: Chacater Death mentioned tw: Drunk parent tw: Drinking, Protective! Dean, crying, consoling the reader, Mad! Dean, CPS Involved, Adoption of the reader, Talking a little about the past, Mature Content.

Summary: Mr. Winchester is starting to notice and worry about the changes he is seeing in his brightest, and most social student after all of a sudden she becomes quiet and wants to be left alone.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N- This is for @band--psycho Comfort list.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Taglist- @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69 @doctorlilo @wonderfulworldofwinchester

“Alright class, do you have any questions before we have independent work?” I asked the large class of students. I saw the girl in the front of the class raised her hand. She always has her hand up in the air. Always wanting to learn more about history.

“Yes, Y/n what’s your question?” I asked Y/n, she lowered her arm and said proudly. “What can we do if we have already completed our assignment?” I was used to that from her. She’d finish her assignments early and then have thirty minutes to sit there. She’d sit and read her book, or complete other assignments for classes.

“Well, if you’re already done. Then you, Miss, L/n can read your book, or help other students.” I said walking over to my desk to sit down. Y/n was a teacher's pet, but I tried to lean away from making her think that she was that way in class. I know what it’s like to be a teacher pet

I hadn’t even got to take a breath yet before Y/n was standing in front of my desk with her paper assignment in hand. “Here you go, Mr. Wincheste,r” Y/n said handing me her paper. “Thank you Miss L/n.” I said taking it and then she walked back over to her desk.

Later on that day I called the main office, telling the very nice desk lady that I needed Y/n L/n to come back to my classroom to talk with you about being a student cadet. The front desk lady said okay, and at the end of the day, Y/n was coming walking into my classroom for the second time.

Her backpack is steady on her shoulders. “Yes, Mr. Winchester.” She said sitting down in her normal seat in class. “How was the rest of your day, Miss L/n?” I asked. Giving her a confused look. “Mr. Winchester I thought I was here for detention or something like that?” She said. Starting to mess with her fingers.

"God no, I wanted to talk to you about becoming a teacher's cadet for next semester’s class. It would nice if you'd be able to help me grade papers, make up lesson plans y'know the normal things." I said fidgeting with the pen in between my fingers.

After this semester ends Y/n will not be coming back. So, the only way to get Y/n to come back would be to my class if she became my student cadet.

I waited silently in my office chair. Softly tapping, the nose of my shoe on the floor to the beat of some rock song. "Yeah, I will become a teacher's cadet. I'll become your teacher's cadet." She said a slow smile starting to grow on her face.

This…This teaching, and that wide was the one reason I keep coming to work. Knowing that my little ol' history class is making them so overjoyed. That's what makes me know that I'm doing the best I can at my job.

“All right, so next semester I’ll see you. Remember you’re here to help me. So don’t worry about things okay.” I said getting up from my desk chair and moving around. Y/n stayed in her same position. “You can go Y/n.” I stated.

It looked almost as if she had zoned out, but it’s whatever. “Yes, I do have to get going. Thank you, Mr. Winchester.” That’s all she said before she walked out of my classroom. Christmas break came fast and then it was over, I had ended up going to my parent’s house to see my sister and brother-in-law.

With Christmas and New Year over I was very much ready to see the new kids that I was going to have, and I was more than happy to have Y/n as my teacher cadet. The whole idea of her taking some stress off my shoulders was nice, it was wonderful actually.

For the first few weeks of the new semester Y/n was great she’d get all the regulatory things printed, some tested graded, she’d come to my class during her lunchtime and help me with more grading.

Yeah, I’m one of those teachers who make a shit ton of their students work into grades. The only thing I had to do was print the syllabus out. She’d walk in with her backpack slung over her shoulders, but a bright and wide smile on her face. I’d talk to the class and get the students in order before bringing my attention back to Y/n.

But that slowly started to change as our class progressed into the new year. Y/n wouldn't come in with a smile on anymore, she’d have her earbuds in and to be honest, the music was always blaring. “She’d slump into her seat at the front of the class.

Students would try to say hi or even just try to start a conversation. She’d ignore them, and pull out the tests she had scored the previous day. It started to concern me when she came to school with a large black hoodie, and in a rather bad mood. It was starting to look as if she was losing that bright star inside her.

That bright star that had made her shine in my class just last semester. That bright smile made all the students this year enjoy this class just a little bit more. I let it continue until she wasn’t showing up for class anymore, wasn’t returning graded tests, or coming to the lunch to help me anymore.

I called the front desk and asked the lady to have Y/n come down to my class that I needed her for a teacher and teacher cadet conversation. The front desk lady was able to call down to whatever class Y/n was in and have her jot that note down.

I waited for after school to end to start to worry when Y/n didn’t show up in my classroom. But the worry was forgotten when I heard the soft knocks on my door. “Y/n, can you please come to sit?” I asked her.

Her backpack sat low on her shoulder, her hair in a messy bun, smeared make-up, a dark sweater on, with sagging sweats on. She looked like a wreck, a tragic wreck. Or maybe she sort of looked like that popular game Jenga, if somebody pulled the wrong block who knows what will happen.

She sat down carefully to keep her bag still in her possession. “Y/n, is there anything you want to talk about?” I asked, prying a little too far into the very normal high situation. This just seemed different. How she had changed so quickly, or far off the deep end she had fallen.

I felt like I had to save her. I felt like I was her only saving grace. She hummed, but didn’t dare look up at me. “You can take all the time you need, Y/n. We’re in no rush.” I said trying my best to console her. Make her feel comfortable.

“I can tell you anything right? Mr.Winchester?” She asked, her voice shy and timid. Barely even looking up at me. “Of course,” I said trying not to sound over-excited that I had seen something and now she was communicating with me. All students should feel comfortable with their teachers, or at least one of their teachers to tell them how they're feeling at any given point in time.

She took what looked like a deep breath in and started; “So, lately life at home has been rough, things between my dad and I are kinda on bad terms. I know that as a teacher’s cadet I can’t let things like that bother me, but it’s hard to. And yeah I know I’m different, but Mr. Winchester I promise I’m still the same girl I was before. I promise you I’ll get better.” I went to go raise my hand.

She flinched and ducked under her crossed arms. A slight string of rage ran through me. I myself took a deep breath trying my hardest to find a consoling and nurturing voice. “Y/n please slow down, and take a breath if you don’t you’ll end up having a panic or anxiety attack,” I said to be careful to not scare her off.

“That's what it’s called?” She said. “How many other times have you felt like this?” I asked, now worried about whether or not this was being taken care of at home. She was trying her hardest to regain some sort of rhyme to her breath.

“In the past week?” She asked, her hands starting to shake. “Yeah sure let’s go with that. Also, can I touch your hand, so I can try and help you?” I asked. She hummed, “I’d say maybe like 5 in the past week.” She said.

“Y/n, Have you told anyone else? Maybe your father?” I asked, pushing further into Y/n personal business. There was a split second of a stutter, a pregnant pause laid between the two of us. “Y/n?” I asked again.

“No… I… I didn’t kno… I can’t tell my father.” She finally said. The pauses and stutters between her words gave me goosebumps. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if as a teenager I couldn’t talk to my parents, or even to just one parent.

Come to think of it, I wouldn’t want any of that. Not as a parent or as a child. “Y/n will you tell me why you can’t tell your father?” I asked pushing the subject even further. Wanting and needing to understand the situation the further we got into it.

“I… it’s really my fault you see.” I couldn’t help myself, my mouth opening against my own accord. “Nothing is ever your fault. Whoever told you it’s your fault is wronger than a bat outta hell.” I said my voice steadily rising.

She flinched and lowering her head. Shit, okay different approach. “It’s not your fault, Do you want to continue?” I asked She took a deep breath bringing her head back up and looking me in my eyes. “My mom died recently while coming to pick me up from a friend’s house during the winter break and now my father… he um he blames me for her death. So the animosity between my father and I in the house it’s hard to be that bright child I was.” She said taking another large deep breath of air.

Oh my god, that’s not something you blame on a child. Regardless, you never let a child feel like they have animosity with their parent. What has this world come to that this sort of action is socially acceptable.

“Can I ask why you feel that there’s animosity in your home, Y/n?” I asked making my voice softer and trying to be more welcoming. “Well, it’s a usual nightly thing. Where when I come back from school he’s drunk asleep hopefully. The longer I’m home though the worse it gets for me. He starts to yells and scream, putting me down in every which way.” She said.

Her breathing becoming rapid and raged, tears starting to roll down her already red cheeks. “Y/n, I’m going to ask a serious question tap me one for yes, and twice for no. “ I said she tapped me once so I continued. “Do you... Do you feel safe at home with your father?” I asked I was starting to feel like I was overstepping a boundary an imagery one.

Well if I was overstepping a boundary then Y/n would have said something right? Hopefully, I’m not. “No, I don’t feel safe at home. Please help me,” she said desperation flowing through her words as she spoke. “Do you want me to help?” I asked worrying that she might back out of her own idea.

We sat in silence for minutes besides hearing her little snuffles. “Yes, I want your help. I want to leave that hateful, dreadful, and emotionless house. Please, anywhere but there.” She said grabbing my hand tight, and tighter as she chocked out her words.

I slightly shook my head, I was able to release one hand before grabbing for my personal phone and dialing up the child’s protective services. If this is ending, then it’s ending now and in the right way.

I was able to get an agent and was able to explain the drastic situation. The young lady that happened to pick up the phone could hear Y/n in the background asking if she was okay. “No ma’am she isn’t going to be okay, not if she knows that she has to go back to the abusive home. Please is there anything that I can do about this situation to help?” I asked, my own voice failing me and my desperation coming out.

A week later, CPS was at her father’s house, and he was told that his daughter was being taken. Taken to another home as they did their investigation. He yelled and screamed, which in turn only caused their investigation to start off on a bad hand for her father, but a better hand for Y/n.

The past week she’d been staying with me. She had no other family and when the CPS agent asked if she did y/b only started to cry and, and ended up just hugging me through the entire conversation. The agent asked me if I would be comfortable, and if I had enough space for Y/n to stay for just a little bit.

I was more than comfortable with her coming to stay. I think through the whole situation and learning more about Y/n. I had started to grow a portion of my heart that was held just for her. With Y/n being a junior and that her next year being her last in high school it was honestly more of Y/n’s choice.

“Dean.. can I stay with you? Even after this all ends.” She asked, in the past week she’d been excused from school and was staying with me. We had to get past the normal uncomfortable routines, but besides that, she was absolutely amazing to have around. To think that some person could make a kind soul like her come to tears every night was horrible and made my blood boil.

We did have to get past the “Mr. Winchester” I told her to just call me Dean since that would make us both very comfortable. Being comfortable was all I really wanted her to be. Weeks turned into months that Y/n had now become living with me. The first night she called me dad we were sitting down getting ready to watch a movie.

“Do you want popcorn? Or something else?” I had asked her. As I got up to go to the kitchen. “Popcorn is fine Dad.” She said. I just stood there for a moment a wide smiled starting to spread against my face. “What?” She finally said after she noticed I hadn’t moved. “Did you just?” I said.

“Yeah I did, now popcorn and movie please dad.”She said. She was starting to become more and more like me, these recent months. “Sure thing kiddo. Pick the movie and we’ll eat popcorn.” I said.

This wasn’t something I thought I needed. But I’m glad I have it. I’m glad that Y/n’s in my life now. To be honest I think she’d just as happy as I am.

Completed on:04/23/2021

#tw depressing stuff #tw anxiety #tw: Abuse #tw drinking #tw panic disorder #tw mental health #tw mental breakdown #tw mental disorders #only child #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x female!reader #dean x you #dean winchster x y/n #supernatural #supernatural x reader #fanfic #band--psychos comfort

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dreamingaboutreid · 3 years

Text

Hospital Bed Confessions: Chapter 7

*Continuation*

*Flash-forward*

Spencer was truly in awe. It had been 8 months since you joined the BAU.

Hotch seemed much happier with no more mountains of paperwork on his desk. All the files were neatly filed in Y/N’s office and his workload was greatly alleviated. He also had someone to confide to and understand a little bit of the pressure he had been experiencing.

Emily loved having a fellow Chesapeake Bay alumnus. With JJ being on mom-duty, Emily had a friend to go out with after she returned to the team, and they seemed to have plethora of things to talk about and relate to. He often heard them discussing their love of Kilgore Trout or favorite traveling destination.

Penelope was ecstatic to have another affectionate and loving member on the team. Y/N spent a lot of time with Garcia on deciding cases and it was evident how much they cherished each other. Y/N often brought in colorful collectibles and helped Penelope arrange them in her office.

Rossi respected Y/N’s focused yet good-natured character. They shared stories of their time in the military, which they rarely disclosed with the other members. He thought of Y/N as a daughter and took pleasure in sharing his knowledge of cars and whiskey.

JJ treated Y/N like a sister. It was obvious how similar they were. Both attentive and considerate with remarkable people skills. Y/N also became JJ’s go-to babysitter as JJ full heartedly trusted her with kids, which was a huge compliment coming from JJ.

Derek enjoyed Y/N’s company, who had a surprising knowledge of football, and would often make fun bets on what team would win the next game. He would also come to you for solid advice when he needed someone to level with him.

Not to mention, everyone was thrilled to go home at least an hour earlier normal, thanks to your fast but thorough write-ups you continued to do every day on behalf of the team.

For Spencer, you were a whole new world. He not only appreciated you as a hardworking member but as a new best friend.

You never interrupted him and seemed genuinely invested in whatever he said. Whether it was a new book he was reading or a new foreign film that came out. You truly made him feel heard and cared for. After he told you about Maeve, it felt like something was taken off his shoulder. Like you knew his pain and rather than only feeling sorry for him, they shared it together.

He also truly admired your ability to talk to people. Whether it was a serial killer who was holding a gun to someone’s head or a sobbing parent who had just lost a child or even an abrasive detective they had to work with, you just knew exactly what to say.

Spencer couldn’t place a flaw in you. The way you smiled, talked, listened, walked, ate, slept, heck everything, seemed so perfect to him.

When Blake came to his apartment to say her farewell, he was devastated. Another person was walking out of his life. But for the first time, he didn’t wallow up in his apartment by himself, blaming his eidetic memory for repeating all their conversations in his head or contemplating then shutting down his mental debate on taking dilaudid.

He didn’t hesitate to dial your number, and you appeared in front of his door in a matter of minutes. You had the ability to listen to his problems and somehow make them go away, or at least make him feel better.

While he always appreciated it, it bothered Spencer after a while how you never came to him when you wanted to feel better. You managed to carry all that weight without yourself ever breaking.

But he realized that it wasn’t anything personal. You just never showed much emotions to anyone, except for happy ones.

Spencer remembered when Derek asked you one day,

“How come you never come to us when you’re feeling down? There’s no way you’re always a ray of sunshine. Even baby girl has her emotional breakdowns.”

You had quickly brushed it off and said, “I’d rather make people smile than worry or cry.”

And it was the end of that.

Spencer often thought about this. Derek made a very good point. You were human after all.

But he knew that there was something much darker in you.

While you didn’t voice your emotions, your eyes told a different story.

When you were interrogating unsubs, your eyes became cold but your words remained calm and almost soothing, as if you were luring them out their lies to know their true intentions. When you were talking to victims or victims’ families, your eyes showed sympathy and it comforted whoever you were consoling when explaining that the unit was doing our best. And when you were talking to the ones you loved and cared about, you allowed your eyes to relax but there was a twinkle that he couldn’t keep his own eyes off of.

He hoped that you would open up to him, like he had to you.

But, it wasn’t too long until his wish was answered and he witnessed something that changed everything.

Y/N’s POV

You were exhausted.

It wasn’t the workload or rigor your job came with.

It was the emotional tole. You learned how to compartmentalize your feelings well from losing the ones you loved from experience.

But this job was different from talking to soldiers or serial killers. You were talking to normal people. You had unconsciously put your guard down and the emotions hit you little by little.

Every day, you walked in to deciding which cases to solve and you walked out hoping it was the right one to choose. The extra work you were doing actually helped keep your mind out of all the feelings and reality and helped focus your energy on something tangible.

You weren’t sure what came over you that day, but you had been on edge the whole jet ride back from a case. When everyone arrived back to the office, it wasn’t just you who was drained.

“Everyone go home early and get some ready. You deserve it. But report back tomorrow at 9 to finish your statements,” stated Hotch.

“I think I’ll stay back. Finish some of the paperwork,” you stated with a weak smile.

Hotch looked at you reluctantly.

“Are you sure? Everyone’s worn out. It’s okay to go,” Hotch said.

“It must be all the coffee,” you joked lamely, hoping Hotch took the excuse.

Hotch didn’t seem to notice as it was quite normal for you to stay late.

“Alright. Well, everyone thank Y/N on the way out and report back tomorrow at 10,” Hotch said as patted you on the back as he exited.

“Thanks for the extra hour of sleep,” Rossi stated as he walked towards the elevator.

“You’re an actual lifesaver,” Morgan commented.

As everyone said their respective greetings and left, you quickly ran up to JJ.

“Hey, JJ. Can I ask you a favor?” you asked.

“Of course! I owe you anyways,” JJ said.

“Do you mind if you give Spencer a ride home? Usually I take him, but I don’t want him to wait for me and he seems pretty tired,” you stated.

While you truly loved the arrangement you had with Spencer, you needed some space right now.

“Sounds like a plan. Just tell him I’ll be waiting in the car,” JJ said as she grabbed her belonging.

You thanked her and gave her a quick hug.

You turned and found Spencer already reading a book by his desk. Even though you thought Spencer always looked handsome, you had to admit that he did look tired.

“Hey, Spence. I think I’m going to stay a little late today.”

“Yeah, I heard you telling Hotch. I don’t mind waiting,” he said.

It must have been the pent up emotions you had been suppressing as you could feel your eyes slightly tearing up. You quickly forced them away, praying Spencer didn’t catch on. No matter how many times Spencer displayed his kindness and patience, you always appreciated his small acts of compassion.

“No, no. You must be exhausted. I asked JJ to take you home, and she’s waiting in her car for you. Seriously, get some rest,” you reassured Spencer.

After a bit of reluctancy, Spencer replied,

“Okay, I probably shouldn’t keep JJ waiting for too long. Thanks, Y/N. Don’t stay too late.”

You simply nodded and you watched Spencer walk away while looking back.

You waved, indicating that it was okay to leave.

After he finally left, it was just you, all alone. You turned off the lights in the pit, making it pitch dark, and walked into your office.

Closing your door and only turning on the light on your desk, you went to the corner of the room and sank down as you burst into tears.

It wasn’t the first time you had a breakdown. But it was always behind closed door. In the bathtub in your house. In the comfort of your bed. At the safety of your house. But today, you couldn’t hold it until you went home.

As you wept, you hoped the tears you released would somehow erase the remorse you felt. You sobbed without anything holding you back until you felt a looming presence over your crouched figure.

“Oh my gosh, Spencer. You startled me, I didn’t notice you were here,” you quickly said as you tried to wipe away the evidence of your momentary vulnerability. You didn’t need a mirror to know that it was an unsuccessful attempt.

“Sorry, I saw the light in your office and thought you’d be in here.”

“Did you forget something?” you asked, puzzled by his unexpected return.

“No, I just didn’t want you to be all alone so I told JJ that she could just go home,” Spencer said softly.

He continued, “I also saw you were a bit uneasy earlier.”

So Spencer hadnoticed.

“In fact, it seemed like you were stressed the whole day. Are you okay?” he asked.

You weren’t sure if it was the display of Spencer’s empathy again or the fact that he recognized something was bothering you when you were able to hide it from a group of profilers, but you felt the tears reappearing again and you didn’t want to hold back.

You broke into sobs for the second time that day and slowly slid back into the position you were originally in.

Spencer didn’t hesitate to join you as he sat and put a tight protective arm around you while he just let you cry.

“Am I making the right decisions? Who am I to choose who dies or lives? What if….” you trailed as you muffled all your worries into his chest.

For the first in a long time, you felt safe in the arms of someone else. You didn’t have to, or heck, want to hide yourself anymore. When Spencer held your hand, you knew.

You looked up to see the most understanding eyes, and you knew right then and there that you had found your person.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #criminal minds

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