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sylvielauffeydottir · 3 years

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Hello, it is I, your friendly neighborhood historian. I am ready to lose followers for this post, but I have two masters degrees in history and one of my focuses has been middle eastern area studies. Furthermore, I’ve been tired of watching the world be reduced to pithy little infographics, and I believe there is no point to my education if I don’t put it to good use. Finally, I am ethnically Asheknazi Jewish. This does not color my opinion in this post — I am in support of either a one or two state solution for Israel and Palestine, depending on the factors determined by the Palestinian Authority, and the Israeli Government does not speak for me. I hate Netanyahu. A lot. With that said, my family was slaughtered at Auschwitz-Birkenau. I have stood in front of that memorial wall at the Holocaust memorial in DC for my great uncle Simon and my great uncle Louis and cried as I lit a candle. Louis was a rabbi, and he preached mitzvot and tolerance. He died anyway.

There’s a great many things I want to say about what is happening in the Middle East right now, but let’s start with some facts.

In early May, there were talks of a coalition government that might have put together (among other parties, the Knesset is absolutely gigantic and usually has about 11-13 political parties at once) the Yesh Atid, a center-left party, and the United Arab List, a Palestinian party. For the first time, Palestinians would have been members of the Israeli government in their own right. And what happened, all of the sudden? A war broke out. A war that, amazingly, seemed to shield Benjamin Netanyahu from criminal prosecution, despite the fact that he has been under investigation for corruption for some time now and the only thing that is stopping a real investigation is the fact that he is Prime Minister.

Funny how that happened.

There’s a second thing people ought to know, and it is about Hamas. I’ve found it really disturbing to see people defending Hamas on a world stage because, whether or not people want to believe it, Hamas is a terrorist organization. I’m sorry, but it is. Those are the facts. I’m not being a right wing extremist or even a Republican or whatever else or want to lob at me here. I’m a liberal historian with some facts. They are a terrorist organization, and they don’t care if their people die.

Here’s what you need to know:

There are two governments for the occupied Palestinian territories in the West Bank and Gaza. In April 2021, Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas postponed planned elections. He said it was because of a dispute amid Israeli-annexed East Jerusalum. He is 85 years old, and his Fatah Party is losing power to Hamas. Everyone knows that. Palestinians know that.

Here’s the thing about Hamas: they might be terrorists, but aren’t idiots. They understand that they have a frustrated population filled with people who have been brutalized by their neighbors. And they also understand that Israel has something called the iron dome defense system, which means that if you throw a rocket at it, it probably won’t kill anyone (though there have been people in Israel who died, including Holocaust survivors). Israel will, however, retaliate, and when they do, they will kill Palestinian civilians. On a world stage, this looks horrible. The death toll, because Palestinians don’t have the same defense system, is always skewed. Should the Israeli government do that? No. It’s morally repugnant. It’s wrong. It’s unfair. It’s hurting people without the capability to defend themselves. But is Hamas counting on them to for the propaganda? Yeah. Absolutely. They’re literally willing to kill their other people for it.

You know why this works for Hamas? They know that Israel will respond anyway, despite the moral concerns. And if you’re curious why, you can read some books on the matter (Six Days of War by Michael Oren; The Yom Kippur War by Abraham Rabinovich; Rise and Kill First by Ronen Bergmen; Antisemitism by Deborah Lipstadt; and Israel: A Concise History of a Nation Reborn by Daniel Gordis). The TL;DR, if you aren’t interested in homework, is that Israel believes they have no choice but to defend themselves against what they consider ‘hostile powers.’ And it’s almost entirely to do with the Holocaust. It’s a little David v Goliath. It is, dare I say, complicated.

I’m barely scratching the surface here.

(We won’t get into this in this post, though if you want to DM me for details, it might be worth knowing that Iran funds Hamas and basically supplies them with all of their weapons, and part of the reason the United States has been so reluctant to engage with this conflict is that Iran is currently in Vienna trying to restore its nuclear deal with western powers. The USA cannot afford to piss off Iran right now, and therefore cannot afford to aggravative Hamas and also needs to rely on Israel to destroy Irani nuclear facilities if the deal goes south. So, you know, there is that).

There are some people who will tell you that criticism of the Israel government is antisemitic. They are almost entirely members of the right wing, evangelical community, and they don’t speak for the Jewish community. The majority of Jewish people and Jewish Americans in particular are criticizing the Israeli government right now. The majority of Jewish people in the diaspora and in Israel support Palestinian rights and are speaking out about it. And actually, when they talk about it, they are putting themselves in great danger to do so. Because it really isn’t safe to be visibly Jewish right now. People may not want to listen to Jews when they speak about antisemitism or may want to believe that antisemitism ‘isn’t real’ because ‘the Holocaust is over’ but that is absolutely untrue. In 2019, antisemitic hate crimes in the United States reached a high we have never seen before. I remember that, because I was living in London, and I was super scared for my family at the time. Since then, that number has increased by nearly 400% in the last ten days. If you don’t believe me, have some articles about it (one, two, three, four, and five, to name a few).

I live in New York City, where a man was beaten in Time Square while attending a Free Palestine rally and wearing a kippah. I’m sorry, but being visibly Jewish near a pro-Palestine rally? That was enough to have a bunch of people just start beating on him? I made a previous post detailing how there are Jews being attacked all over the world, and there is a very good timeline of recent hate crimes against Jews that you can find right here. These are Jews, by the way, who have nothing to do with Israel or Palestine. They are Americans or Europeans or Canadians who are living their lives. In some cases, they are at pro-Palestine rallies and they are trying to help, but they just look visibly Jewish. God Forbid we are the wrong ethnicity for your rally, even if we agree.

This is really serious. There are people calling for the death of all Jews. There are people calling for another Holocaust.

There are 14 million Jews in the world. 14 million. Of 7.6 billion. And you think it isn’t a problem the way people treat us?

Anyway (aside from, you know, compassion), why does this matter? This matters because stuff like this deters Jews who want to be part of the pro-Palestine movement because they are literally scared for their safety. I said this before, and I will say it again: Zionism was, historically speaking, a very unpopular opinion. It was only widespread antisemitic violence (you know, the Holocaust) that made Jews believe there was a necessity for a Jewish state. Honestly, it wasn’t until the Pittsburgh synagogue shooting that I supported it the abstract idea too.

I grew up in New York City, I am a liberal Jew, and I believe in the rights of marginalized and oppressed people to self-determine worldwide. Growing up, I also fit the profile of what many scholars describe as the self hating Jew, because I believed that, in order to justify myself in American liberal society, I had to hate Israel, and I had to be anti-Zionist by default, even if I didn’t always understand what ‘Zionism’ meant in abstract. Well, I am 27 years old now with two masters degrees in history, and here is what Zionism means to me: I hate the Israeli government. They do not speak for me. But I am not anti-Zionist. I believe in the necessity for a Jewish state — a state where all Jews are welcome, regardless of their background, regardless of their nationality.

There needs to be a place where Jews, an ethnic minority who are unwelcome in nearly every state in the world, have a place where they are free from persecution — a place where they feel protected. And I don’t think there is anything wrong with that place being the place where Jews are ethnically indigenous to. Because believe it or not, whether it is inconvenient, Jews are indigenous to the land of Israel. I’ve addressed this in this post.

With that said, that doesn’t mean you can kick the Palestinian people out. They are also indigenous to that land, which is addressed in the same post, if you don’t trust me.

What is incredible to me is that Zionism is defined, by the Oxford English Dixtionary, as “A movement [that called originally for] the reestablishment of a Jewish nationhood in Palestine, and [since 1948] the development of the State of Israel.” Whether we agree with this or not, there were early disagreements about the location of a ‘Jewish state,’ and some, like Maurice de Hirsch, believed it ought to be located in South America, for example. Others believed it should be located in Africa. The point is that the original plans for the Jewish state were about safety. The plan changed because Jews wanted to return to their homeland, the largest project of decolonization and indigenous reclamation ever to be undertaken by an indigenous group. Whether you want to hear that or not, it is true. Read a book or two. Then you might know what I mean.

When people say this is a complicated issue, they aren’t being facetious. They aren’t trying to obfuscate the point. They often aren’t even trying to defend the Israeli government, because I certainly am not — I think they are abhorrent. But there is no future in the Middle East if the Israelis and Palestinians don’t form a state that has an equal right of return and recognizes both of their indigenousness, and that will never happen if people can’t stop throwing vitriolic rhetoric around. Is the Israeli Government bad? Yes. Are Israeli citizens bad? Largely, no. They want to defend their families, and they want to defend their people. This is basically the same as the fact that Palestinian people aren’t bad, though Hamas often is. And for the love of god, stop defending terrorist organizations. Just stop. They kill their own people for their own power and for their own benefit.

And yes, one more time, the Israeli government is so, so, so wrong. But god, think about your words, and think about how you are enabling Nazis. The rhetoric the left is using is hurting Jews. I am afraid to leave my house. I’m afraid to identify as Jewish on tumblr. I’m afraid for my family, afraid for my friends. People I know are afraid for me.

It’s 2021. I am not my great uncle. I cried for him, but I shouldn’t have to die like him.

Words have consequences. Language has consequences. And genuinely, I do not think everyone is a bad person, so think about what you are putting into the world, because you’d be surprised how often you are doing a Nazi a favor or two.

Is that really what you want? To do a Nazi a favor or two? I don’t think that you do. I hope you don’t, at least.

That’s all. You know, five thousand words later. But uh, think a little. Please.

#jumblr #free palestine #zionism #gaza #signal boost #antisemitism #jew tag

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ronoken · 3 years

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So, who wants a publishing story?

No one?

…Tough.

To preface, this was prompted by a post I saw about always making sure you read a contract before signing it. I wholeheartedly agree.

So, I write books. A roundabout result of writing books is I occasionally get to speak at conventions. When I do speak at conventions (which hasn’t been for a year. Thanks, covid), a standard question I get asked is about the benefits of self-publishing versus getting a contract. And yes, I fully realize that everyone’s experience in this is different, and I get that. Here’s mine.

So, several years ago, I wrote a book. I put a solid year into it and did numerous rewrites, edits, etc. with three wonderful editors and boom. Book. Done. And then, like many who are impatient or who don’t want to run the risk of rejection, I self-published my first novel.

And to my great shock, I actually sold some copies.

Quick aside. I’m not famous. At. Fucking. All. Some is not millions. Some is several thousand at best. And that’s over YEARS. I am not widely known and I do not claim to be. At all.

So yeah, like, I didn’t sell a million or anything, but I was moving over 100 copies a month when I was putting in the marketing work. Not too shabby. I was hustling on Twitter, FB marketing, Google ad marketing, working the review sites, doing interviews, everything I could. And it actually worked. I can honestly say the number of copies I moved a month directly correlated with how hard I pushed. And when I pushed, I pushed damn hard. I even got to a point where a reviewer who became an editor for DC would routinely provide public reviews for my books, and I was doing a superhero series. Not gonna lie- it was fucking rad.

Anyway, after a couple years of doing this, putting out a second novel which sold okay, a bunch of novellas, and so on, I received an offer out of the blue to have my work officially picked up. For realsies.

Admittedly, I was over the moon about this. I was being contacted by an unsolicited source! AND THEY HAD MONEY!

Now, my work wasn’t Shakespeare. I knew that. They did, too. They offered me a nice little starting sum. Not a lot, but holy shit it was FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS UP FRONT. One of my editors reads my Tumblr and I don’t think I’ve ever told them how much it was. It was 5k. To start. Not a lot, publishing-wise, but that’s because the work was already done. See, most publishers will give you more, but the catch is it’s considered a down payment for more books in a series. They pay you to write future novels, and then they expect you to pay it back. I already had a shit ton of content out, so I essentially skipped that step. Which tells me that publishers really don’t expect to have to actually pay you much, but that’s another post.

To my editor- sorry I never said the exact amount. It felt weird, but it’s been years, so it’s not as weird? I dunno. That logic train made sense as I was writing this.

So, 5k upfront, and then 50% of all sales thereafter, and they would handle EVERYTHING. Marketing, scheduling tours, covers, putting me in stores, the lot. Considering how much time, money, and effort these things took, this was not a terrible deal, but there was a catch.

My story would officially no longer be mine.

Oh, my name would be on it, and I’d write it, but from there on out, the publishing house would have 100% control over how it was marketed, where it went, and so on. If they wanted to option it, I would have zero say and zero rights, meaning they could take it and do fuck-all, and I would be left with nothing. Per the contract, they could even go so far as to issue me a cease and desist on my own work and hire a new person to take over. I was signing away everything in my universe if I said yes.

So, despite the allure of having things offered to me like a legit marketing team, book tours, and money (such as it was), I said no thank you.

Now, it didn’t hurt that I’d already made 5k in sales by that point. I knew my worth and how to push to keep it that way, if I so chose. Also, it helped that I was in an okay place when that offer came in. I could look at it and say, “well, that sure would be nice, but I don’t need it.” A lot of talented writers aren’t in that space, and the offer of several months rent or money for food as well as REALLY-REAL PUBLISHING can be hella tempting. And I get it, for some folks, the deals work out alright. And for some they don’t. And I sure as Hell am not going to judge. Seriously, I still have vivid nightmares about working 60+ hours a week and not being able to afford baby formula. Hell, if they had offered that to me just one year earlier, I would have been forced to take it. At that stage of life, 5k would have been life changing. I was just starting to hit the OK section of life, and only barely. Money when you need it is fucking awesome, and sometimes, you take what you can get.

But if you are a writer? And you’re in a place where it’s not life and death? Read the damn contract. Every single time. Make good and sure you know what you’re getting into and ask yourself, is it worth it to you? If it is, awesome. Again, not gonna judge, and every situation is different.

In my specific case though, it was choosing a nice bit of cash over something I had slaved for years over. I couldn’t do it. I still can’t. It’s the one property I’ll never let go of because when I wrote it, I didn’t even know if I could write a book. It proved to me that yes, I really could, and that was worth more than I can put into words.

TLDR: Read your contracts. Make choices good for you. Some things are worth more than money.

#writing #publishing #read your contracts

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

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Quizzes

Synopsis: you and Tom take a Buzzfeed quiz

Masterlist

“Hi I’m Tom Holland.” Tom smiled at the camera.

“And I’m Y/n L/n.” You greeted. “And today were taking some Marvel quizzes with Buzzfeed.”

“Are you ready, darling?” He asked you as he moved the laptop in between you.

“I’m ready to beat you.” You nodded.

“Is this a competition?” He asked the people behind the camera.

“It is now.” You stated. “Read the first question.”

“Which stone would you want power of?” Tom read off the screen. “I’m not gonna read the names of the stones because I don’t feel like embarrassing myself this early in the day.”

“I don’t actually know what any of them do.” You realized. “Do you know what they do?”

“The tesseract is a cube.” Tom said confidently.

“Yes, but that’s not an action.”

“Then I have no idea what any of them do.” He mumbled. You laughed at him and leaned your elbow on the back of his chair.

“Me either. This is why we both died in Infinity War.” You joked.

“Stop.” He playfully pushed you. “I think the reality stone would be cool because remember the fight between Doctor Strange and Thanos with all the pretty butterflies? We could just do that everyday and, you know, have world peace.”

“You’re right. We’re gonna go with reality stone.” You said to the camera as you clicked that answer.

“Next question.” Tom rubbed his hands together. “Which Disney character would you want on the Avengers?”

“Sorcerer Mickey.” You pointed to the picture of Mickey in his blue wizard hat. “Imagine getting tag teamed by a bunch of adults and a rat.”

“I’ve never seen the movie with this Mickey.” Tom realized. “I don’t remember this outfit.”

“I think it’s called Anastasia.” You told him.

“No, that’s a Broadway show.” Tom shook his head. “This is called Euthanasia.”

“It’s called Fantasia.” Someone behind the camera told you, making you and Tom exchange a knowing look.

“Oh.” You laughed. “I’m too embarrassed to pick sorcerer Mickey now so let’s go with the Genie. I think magic would be useful.”

“Genie.” Tom repeated as he clicked on it. “Next. Which DC character could defeat Thanos?”

“Let’s see them defeat the box office first.” You mumbled under your breath.

“You can’t say that.” Tom laughed in shock.

“But I did.” You shrugged. “What are they gonna do about it? They can’t even CGI a mustache.”

“Okay.” Toms laughed died down. “Next question. How would your closest friends describe you?”

“I don’t know.” You thought about it. “How would you describe me?”

“Beautiful.” Tom said simply.

“Fair enough.” You laughed shyly. “I mean, fair enough.”

“Caring, loyal, creative, funny, kind, successful.” Tom read off the options. “I mean, you’re all of these things. But when I think of you…”

Tom stopped in the middle of his sentence as a wide smile broke out on his face.

“Why are you smiling?” You asked him.

“Because I’m thinking of you.” He told you.

“Aw. Is disgusting an option?” You asked sweetly.

“Shut up.” He pushed you again. “I’m choosing funny.”

“Good choice.” You nodded and went to the nest question.

“Which dynamic duo is your favorite?” Tom read off the screen.

“I was thinking Thor and Loki.” You decided after surveying the options.

“Me too.” Tom agreed. “But I don’t really know what dynamic means, if I’m honest.”

“Me either.” You realized. “Let’s just move on. Which weird or unconventional superpower would you want to possess?”

“I think to read and instantly memorize.” Tom answered. “That would help with scripts.”

“When I worked in retail, costumers would have to punch in their social security number if they forgot their store card and I would see it on my screen.” You told Tom with a coy smile.

“Oh?” He laughed in confusion.

“I could commit in with theft in bulk.” You stated. “I’d just memorize all their social security numbers without even trying.”

“Oh my God.” He groaned and went to the next question.

“Who’s origin story is your personal favorite?” You read out loud.

“The way that neither of us are listed as an option.” Tom mumbled under his breath when he saw the choices.

“Your origin wasn’t even in your movie.” You laughed. “They jumped right in and said y’all know the drill. Dead uncle, no more glasses, and instant abs.”

“I’m torn because Steven Strange’s is about healing and putting yourself back together and Steve Rogers is about perseverance and determination.” Tom sighed as he tried to decide.

“And being skinny.” You winked at the camera.

“I’m also leaning towards Carol Danvers because women.” Tom ignored you.

“I’m gonna pick Steve because his story is sweet.” You decided and clicked on the option.

“And finally, what would you say is your personal character flaw?”

“I don’t know. I’m perfect.” Tom said smugly.

“Is being a massive liar an option?” You asked the camera crew.

“Leave me alone.” He nudged your side. “I would say reckless. Between the two of us, there are four brain cells and two of them are playing Uno.”

“I agree.” You chuckled. “Pick that one.”

Tom clicked the option and it brought you to the end of the quiz.

“We made it! We survived!” You cheered as you turned to high five him. Tom high fived both your hands and before slinging an arm around your shoulder.

“Thank you for having us Buzzfeed.” He said into the camera. “I haven’t been Y/n L/n.”

“And I haven’t been Tom Holland.” You smiled. “Until next time.”

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jostenneil · 3 years

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something i’ve been thinking about is how people often talk about how dick being brought into the batfam permanently was harmful to him as a character and like i completely agree but i also think we kind of fail to acknowledge or mention how that development also harmed other characters within the batfam. like to me the most obv example is barbara bc it’s interesting that for so many years dick has come to be known as the obv second in command to bruce but realistically he’s never wanted to just stay in gotham and be robin forever, let alone batman, meanwhile barbara has been committed to gotham for nearly her entire stint as a hero and has always been the one who stayed and never thought of going anywhere else. not to mention the fact that she used to be older than dick so if that aspect to her character had persisted then realistically the second in command to bruce would be her. and that’s not to say that she doesn’t have any authority as oracle but i think esp over the last two decades we’ve come to see how bringing her and dick closer to each other in age and prioritizing their romantic relationship has lead to this decentering of her importance as an authority figure within the batpham where it feels like her being dick’s girlfriend is more impt than her being oracle and why she became and chose to stay as oracle. like i don’t think barbara was de-aged purely for the purpose of being put together with dick, but de-aging her has sort of rescinded the initial independence of character that she had bc rather than being her own agent who often operated distinct of batman and robin, her time as a hero was then changed to occur explicitly in tandem with dick’s robin

aside from barbara, i also think there’s the matter of how there are arguments about who should succeed bruce as batman at all when dick has repeatedly had no desire to actually be batman permanently. he’s constantly brought back and put into that role when dc wants his place with the batfam to be emphasized and bc they somehow have no idea how to conceptualize a replacement to bruce who isn’t him (barring knightfall obv, but again, in the end the point was that azrael wasn’t the right choice and if bruce hadn’t been so anxious about contacting dick then the problems would have been avoided all along, thereby kind of implying that dick was always the right choice). and to me that’s kinda lead to an eclipsing of cass as the rightful heir to the mantle despite the fact that she genuinely wants it and intimately understands why adhering to bruce’s code is important, arguably more than anyone else.

an additional angle you could also look at it from is that of damian’s, and how his relationship with dick has sort of come to overshadow his relationships with bruce and talia in canon. i made a post about this before, but while bruce and talia’s character assassination with regards to the introduction of their son was obv not solely employed in order to build a relationship between dick and damian, that’s nonetheless a major development that it lead to, and we’re generally shown that damian feels most comfortable and open around dick. i don’t mean to say that i dislike dick’s relationship with damian, it’s sweet and it makes sense and i love that damian has a big brother like that in his life, but again, one has to wonder whether damian’s relationships with his own parents might have been prioritized had keeping dick in gotham not been something editorial was so insistent upon, esp since dick’s break from the titans at the time that bruce was dead / missing felt incredibly unrealistic. he suddenly admitted to kory that he didn’t really love her in an eternal, lasting way, despite how potent their history was during the original new teen titans collections of runs

to me dick is someone who has kind of inadvertently stunted the growth of other characters in the batfam with his permanent presence in gotham, bc he’s made to occupy so many different physical or emotional positions that there’s little room left for other characters to grow into those positions even tho they have all of the potential and reason to. this last extrapolation is a bit of a shaky one but i even wonder if it’s partly possible (in addition to dc’s hatred of legacy characters) that none of the other bat kids are allowed to age into adulthood in main continuity bc after bruce, dick has to be the one portrayed as the relatable adult, and they don’t want other characters to occupy that position

#dick grayson #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #damian wayne #dc #mine:media analysis #has been on my mind a lot. a lot a lot #i joked on twt the other day that dick's two options are either to be with the titans permanently or die. ajklfjlasjdlfdjgfbhnjgf #like i LOVE him even tho i bully him i genuinely love him as a character he's fascinating to me #but i think he's harmed the batfam more than helped it idk. . .

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homoose · 4 years

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Weird is Good

Summary: A story about two people tryna make it through the age of COVID-19 in a country where people are fucking dumb lmao. My hc is that Spencer would be like wtf at all these science-denying anti-maskers. Also, two teachers just tryna make it through quarantine and remote teaching in a one bedroom apartment (this is taking place during a mandatory leave/lecture cycle).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: no warnings. reader is both a kindergarten teacher and a bruh girl with a pirate’s mouth. lots of Spencer x factz.

Word count: 3.1k

———

“We’re home for the next two weeks. ”

Spencer looked up from his desk to see Y/N kicking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and walking directly to the sink. “Starting when?”

“We get to go in on Monday to say goodbye to the kids and get any materials we might need. Then we’re home for two weeks. They’re calling it an early, extended spring break.” Y/N began her hand washing routine. As a kindergarten teacher, she’d always been a strict hand-washer. In the time of COVID, she had only become more zealous. She looked at Spencer. “Have you heard anything?”

“Since we’re so close to the end of the semester, the department head thinks they’ll try to finish out the year as normal.” He set down his pen. “I honestly don’t know. It will all depend on whether people follow the CDC guidelines. The spread of any virus is deducible mathematically, and SARS-COV2 is no different. Based on the outbreak in Italy prior to their lockdown, we can accurately describe its reproductive number, or Rt, to between 2.43 – 3.10.”

Y/N shut off the water and dried her hands on a paper towel. “In layman's terms, Dr. Reid.”

“The Rt tells how many people are infected by the contagious host,” he explained. “In the case of this strain, each infected person is infecting between two and three others. For comparison, the standard seasonal flu has an average Rt between 1.4 and 1.7.”

“So in other words, fucking yikes,” Y/N groaned. She moved to perch on the edge of Spencer’s desk.

“Indeed,” Spencer agreed. “We know how fast the flu can travel through an office or a classroom, so imagine if it was two times as transmissible. But it's also really important to understand that this number changes depending on the mitigations in place. Even prior to full lockdown, mask wearing and social distancing was somewhat common in Italy, so it’s likely the uncontrolled Rt is higher.”

“Jesus Christ.” Y/N scrubbed a hand over her face. “We’ll probably never go back.”

Spencer rubbed his hand up from her ankle to the inside of her knee. “The good news is there’s nothing special about this virus compared to others in terms of how it spreads— it’s just aerosols. So if everyone wears their mask, we’ll be able to keep the spread low.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It’s safe to say that everyone did not wear their fucking masks,” Y/N snapped. She watched from the couch as Mayor Bowser delivered the news that DC Public Schools would remain closed for the remainder of the year. “This is crazy. I mean, I knew it was coming because people in this country are absolute buffoons.” She looked at Spencer, fingers pressed to her temple. “But holy shit, are we ever going to be able to go outside again?”

“With schools and universities closed, people working remotely, and lockdown orders in place, the Rt in the US could stay low. But masks have to be worn at all times, and social distancing has to be strictly followed.” Spencer pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just— I can’t believe people are refusing to wear masks. The empirical, peer-reviewed data clearly shows—”

“This is ‘Murica, boy.” Y/N mocked. “Ain’t no tyrannical government gonna tell me what to do!” She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, your choice to abstain from social media is paying dividends to your sanity right now.”

Spencer looked truly dumbfounded, setting his newspaper down in his lap. “But that’s just it. It’s not just in social media circles.” He gestured to the article in front of him. “This economist just argued for ‘reopening’ the economy using the justification of herd immunity. Herd immunity can be a plausible option for less lethal diseases. But this virus is not like varicella—the chickenpox,” he clarified at Y/N’s raised eyebrow. He waved his hands around in exasperation. “Putting aside the fact that one facet of herd immunity is vaccinating as many people as possible, its success completely hinges on the Rt of a disease. If you model a population based on an Rt of 2.5, herd immunity wouldn’t be achieved until approximately sixty percent of the population has been infected. Consider that the US population is currently 328 million, and sixty percent of that is 196.8 million. The current mortality rate for SARS-COV2 is 3.06 percent. 196,800,000 multiplied by 0.0306 is 6,022,080. Over six million people would die. It's simple mathematics.”

Y/N let out an exasperated breath. “It used to be that simple math and facts were enough. Now you’ve got basement scientists who think they know better than actual, literal scientists who’ve spent their entire lives studying these things.” She ran a hand over her face and gestured at the news conference still playing. “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re both trying to teach from this tiny ass living room?”

⧭⧭⧭

“Goooooooood morning, kindergarten! It’s Friday, and no Friday is a bad Friday!” Spencer smiled. As he poured his first cup of coffee, he hummed along with Y/N and 23 six-year-olds as they sang their morning song. Observing fourteen days of remote kindergarten from across the living room had given Spencer a new appreciation for elementary school teachers, particularly Y/N. She sang, danced, conducted science experiments, held puppet shows, read stories, led art projects, and fielded questions for four hours a day— three hours less than when they were in the school building. He was exhausted by proxy.

But he was also grateful for the opportunity to watch Y/N in her element. Even though they were at home, she still got dressed every day in bright, patterned sweaters and dresses— her Ms. Frizzle attire, she’d told him once. She was able to channel her personality into a kid-friendly version that her students clearly adored, never afraid to be silly or strange to get their attention and keep them engaged during the long days. He worked from home whenever possible, strangely happy to have the background noise of kindergarten over his quiet university office.

...

“Okay, but where do I put the biiiiiiiiiiiig number?” Y/N made a wide gesture with her arms. “Ariah, where should I put it? In the big box, yes! But oh no, my small number needs a friend. My three is soooooo lonely!” Y/N drew her mouth into a pout. “DJ, how can I help my three not be so sad? You’re absolutely right, let’s put that two right next to him in our number bond.”

…

“I’ve been waitin’ for a girl to mute,” Y/N sang into the gold karaoke mic. “I said, muuuuuuuuuute, I’m blinded by loud sounds. No, I can’t hear the friend who’s tryin’ to talk.”

…

“Oh boy. Kev, honey, we can— we can see you. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. We can see all of you. I can’t turn your camera off, buddy. You gotta— there we go.”

…

“Mute please, I need— I need everybody to mute, please. Oh my goodness where is that music coming from?” Y/N frantically searched for her index card with the picture of the mute icon, as the sounds of a highly inappropriate song blared through the computer speaker. “I know it’s so loud, guys. Why is my mute power gone?! This is why we need to make sure we keep our mute button on, kindergarten.”

…

“No sweetie, it’s not time to log off yet. I’m sorry, I know it’s such a long day. We have about an hour left. Do you guys wanna do a countdown? It’s the fin-al count-down! Do-do doo dooooo. Do-do-d-do-dooo…”

…

“Annnnnd, I should see all my friends on mute. William, hang on just a second. All my friends need to look at my picture, it’s an oval with a line through it… Okay, William, what did you bring to show us?” Y/N leaned toward the computer screen. “Grandma Kathy? O-oh, she’s— she’s in the—“ Y/N’s eyes widened. “Is that— is that an urn? Oh wow. Um, well, wow. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing that with us, William. Grandma Kathy, may she rest in peace.”

⧭⧭⧭

A week into Y/N teaching kindergarten from their living room, the university had announced its transition to online coursework for the remainder of the academic year. Spencer had to host his first zoom lecture, and he was absolutely dreading it.

“Spence, it’s going to be fine. It’s not like you’ve never been on a video conference,” Y/N assured him. She sat cross-legged on the couch, waiting for him to let her in to his practice zoom.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t running those meetings. I just showed up.” He squinted at the computer screen. “Are you in?”

Y/N barely resisted the urge to make a joke, knowing that Spencer probably wouldn’t appreciate the innuendo. “No, you have to admit me.”

“What do you mean? How do I do that?”

“There should be a box with a button that says admit.”

Spencer gestured at the computer. “Well there’s a bunch of boxes— which one should I be looking at?”

Y/N sighed and got up from the couch. “IQ of 187 and can’t find the box.”

Spencer dragged a hand through his hair. “I know I shouldn’t find this so difficult. I’m sorry you have to waste your time on this.”

“Hey, it was a joke.” Y/N grabbed his hand from where he was frustratedly pulling on his frazzled curls. “I’m sorry. That was mean and you’re already stressed enough.” She used her free hand to smooth his hair back into place. She scrunched her nose. “I love you and your limited technology skills. And honestly it’s kind of nice to have one thing I can actually teach you about.” She squeezed his hand, leaning over him to peer at his computer screen. “All right, let’s find that elusive admit button.”

When the day of his lecture rolled around, Spencer thanked all the atoms in the observable universe that Y/N had a break during his class. Within the first ten minutes, he’d managed to accidentally kick himself out of his own meeting and then somehow lose track of the screenshare button.

“No one can see me and I don’t know what happened to the screenshare option. It was there and now it’s just… gone,” he told Y/N.

She leaned over his desk, eyes tracking over the screen and mouse clicking around the desktop. “How in the world did you manage to block your camera?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even touch it!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand how it’s even possible to be this bad at this.”

Y/N bumped his knee with her own, pulling up his camera settings and preferences. “Relax. You can’t be good at everything. It’s a refreshing reminder that you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us.” With a few rapid clicks, Y/N unblocked his camera and located the screenshare bar. “There. Crisis averted. I’m just going to share your whole screen in case you want to toggle between application windows. So just be aware that they’ll be able to see everything. And then you just click here when you’re ready to stop sharing.”

When Y/N turned her head toward him to check that he understood, Spencer grabbed the side of her face and caught her lips in a kiss. Y/N smiled against his mouth, heart speeding up as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue.

“Um, Dr. Reid? Your um— your camera’s working now.”

Spencer nearly fell out of his chair, his cheeks about the color of the Leave Meeting icon. Y/N dropped her head, debating whether she wanted to laugh or let the earth open up and swallow her whole. She ultimately decided to compose herself, stepping back and giving a little wave to the sea of tiny, grinning zoom faces before slinking out of frame, miming sorry to one very mortified professor.

⧭⧭⧭

“Would you want to be our mystery reader next week?” Y/N asked, bookmarking the page of her novel and reclining back in bed. “You just have to pick a story to read. Oh, and think of four clues about your identity to give the kiddos.”

Spencer raised his eyebrow, continuing to read. “Any story?”

Y/N laughed. “Well they’re six, so maybe hold off on the Chaucer and Bradbury for now. A picture book would be preferable.”

“Did you know that the first picture book, Orbis Sensualium Pictus, or Visible World in Pictures, was published in 1658?” He looked up from his own book. “Czech educator John Amos Comenius wanted to create a book that would be accessible to children of all levels of ability. The educational theories he explored are actually still in practice in the field of early childhood education.” He turned toward her from his spot under the covers. “For example, when you have your students make a hissing sound and slither their arms when they produce the sound represented by the letter s? Comenius included an alphabet chart with various animal and human sounds representing each letter. He wanted to demonstrate that the incorporation of multiple senses could help increase learning.”

“I guess you don’t fix what isn’t broken,” Y/N mused. “300 years later, and we’re still using the same methods.”

“362, actually,” Spencer corrected.

She gave him a look. “Maybe we can save the Comenius for another time.”

“The genre of children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and philosophical story telling of all time.” Spencer returned his attention to his reading.

“...So is that a yes?”

Spencer smiled. “I’ve got a book in mind.”

“And clues,” Y/N reminded him, snuggling down under the covers and reopening her book. “We need some fun clues, mystery reader.”

…

“Kindergarten, we have a very special mystery reader this week. Oh man, are you ready for the first clue? The mystery reader loves jell-o! Raise your little hand if you love jell-o, too. Okay, kindergarten, I see you! Lots of jell-o lovers in the house.”

…

“Okay, clue number two! Our mystery reader works as a community helper— remember we learned about all different kinds of community helpers; firefighters, nurses, police officers. But if the mystery reader could be anything, they’d want to be a cowboy! How cool is that?”

...

“Clue number three for our mystery reader!” Y/N sucked in a gasp. “You guys. The mystery reader can do magic. Oh my goodness, I am so excited for Friday,” she sing-songed. “Will they show us a trick? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe if you ask nicely.”

…

“Okay, my friends, the last clue. The mystery reader loves reading. They read every day, and they’ve been reading since 1983! Yes, that was a very long time ago.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Okay, any last guesses about who our mystery reader might be?” Y/N questioned.

“I think it’s your dad,” a little voice called out.

Spencer made a choking noise from where he sat, slightly off camera. Y/N laughed. “The mystery reader is decidedly not my dad, Keyshon. Remember I showed you guys the picture of him— my dad’s a farmer, so he’s kind of already a cowboy.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, without further ado, drumroll please... Our mystery reader is…” Y/N pushed her desk chair out of frame to allow Spencer to roll in, holding her hands out. “Spencer!”

He gave a little wave, smoothing his hair, suddenly painfully self-aware and nervous about the opinions of two dozen six-year-olds. “Hi guys.”

“You’re the boy on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone.”

“Your hair is so fluffy!”

“Do you have a cowboy hat?”

“I like your sweater.”

“Can you really do magic?”

“What’s your favorite jell-o?”

“Whoa, okay, let’s remember our mute button,” Y/N, holding up her index card. “I promise you’ll get to ask Spencer all your questions after he reads the story.”

Spencer smiled at the excited faces beaming through the screen. “Yes, I’m on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone; I don’t own a cowboy hat, yet; yes, I really can do magic; and the red jell-o is my favorite.”

Y/N watched with interest as Spencer pulled out his book. He’d been secretive about his choice, so she was as curious as her students.

“This is one of my favorite stories. It’s written by Munro Leaf, and illustrated by Robert Lawson. It’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer held the cover up to the camera. “Ferdinand is the bull here on the cover. This story was written in 1935, which was a long time ago! Okay are you ready?” Spencer looked out on a sea of thumbs up, turning the page to the beginning of the story. “Once upon a time in Spain, there was a bull, and his name was Ferdinand.”

Y/N smiled as she listened to Spencer read each page, recounting the story of the peaceful bull. He was an excellent storyteller, changing the inflection and expression of his voice to match each sentence. He held each page up for just the right amount of time, panning it so her students could see each detail of the black and white pictures. He added his own wonderings and exclamations here and there, and her students were decidedly enthralled. Her heart ached at how comfortable he was, how natural this was for him. She rested her chin in her hand, trying to keep her mind in the present— ignoring the persistent little mental image of Spencer as a dad.

“So they had to take Ferdinand home. And for all I know, he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy… And that’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer closed the book with a soft smile. “I love this story. Ferdinand is a very special bull. What do you think makes him so special?”

“Ferdinand didn’t fight,” a little voice piped up.

“Yes!” Spencer agreed. “He practiced pacifism in the face of the persistent, ingrained militarism of his country’s culture.”

Y/N placed a hand on Spencer’s knee and gave a quick squeeze. “Right, Ferdinand chose not to fight, even though everybody else he knew wanted to.” Y/N winked at him before turning back to the screen full of kids. “All his friends thought he was kind of weird, but he just really wanted to hang out in the shade and smell the flowers, huh? Sounds pretty good to me.”

“He wasn’t bothered that the other bulls thought he was strange for wanting to be peaceful,” Spencer added. “Sometimes being different can be a good thing. The Story of Ferdinand reminds me that it’s okay to be yourself, even if other people think you’re weird.” His eyes met Y/N’s. “Because there will always be people who love and appreciate you for who you are.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminals minds self insert #dr spencer reid #professor spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #homoose writes

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navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

Text

Pairings: Rafael Barba x Reader, Sonny Carisi x Reader

Warnings: none?

Words: 4,511

Prompt: Rafael spent years keeping his feelings for you hiding.

Missed shot

When Rafael Barba started to work with Manhattan’s SVU, you’d been a detective there for almost two years. You joined the squad shortly before Stabler left. You saw Nick Amaro and Amanda Rollins joining in too. At first, Cragen partnered you with Amanda, and Olivia with Nick, but considering it wasn’t working between Liv and Nick, changes were made, and Nick became your partner.

You two quickly became close, like a brother-sister relationship. He told you about his issues with Maria, you were the first (and only one) to know when him and Amanda became a thing. So, obviously, you told him your secret.

“This is Tomas,” you told Nick, as you were showing him a picture of an 8-year-old boy. “My son,” you added. “Don’t bother counting, I did give birth to him when I was 17.”

“He’s cute. Looks a lot like you,” Nick smiled at you. “Nobody in the squad know?” he asked.

“Cragen does. But he’s our Captain and it’s in my file. But the rest, nope,”

“Why not?”

You told him more about your debut in the police. At first, you did hide the fact that you were a mom. But you quickly realized that your coworkers and others were judging you. People took you as immature, non-serious, and some guy actually pictured you as an easy girl. You hated every second of your debut. So, when you joined the bomb squad, you decided to make your son a secret. It’s much better this way.

Olivia learned about your son when she took Cragen’s place. A part of her was surprised, but another wasn’t. She saw you with kids, you do have that mother instinct. And of course, she promised that nobody would know about Tom.

Working with the SVU squad wasn’t an evidence for Rafael Barba. Nick gave him hard time for no apparent reasons, Amanda wasn’t a fan of him. Fin didn’t care much. But luckily, Olivia welcomed him nicely and then there was you. You were sweet to him, kind. You asked him if you whether call him “Rafael” or “Barba” – “Your choice,” he answered. You ask him how he’s doing every time you see him. You usually bring him a coffee when you stopped by his office.

You’re nice, gorgeous, young, smart, badass… it didn’t take long for Rafael to get interested in you. More than just as coworker. But this couldn’t be happening, so he started to stay away from you as much as possible. At first, it was easy since Rafael only sees you as a detective. He doesn’t know anything about you outside of the office, only that you have Swedish origins from your father. He doesn’t want to know more. He doesn’t need to.

But despite himself, he overheard conversations between you and Nick every now and then. When the name “Tom” came back multiple times, Rafael assumed you had a boyfriend. Good. This should make things easier.

For two years working together, you and Rafael had a normal work relationship. He kept his crush under-wrap, seeing people every now and then, when the thought of you was too much. Sometimes it was one-night stands, sometimes a bit more. But he never kept seeing the same person for more than two months. That’s when people want to make things more permanent. Rafael doesn’t want that.

Keeping you at arm’s length was perfect for him. He couldn’t let you in. He wasn’t open for a serious relationship, and he felt like you could turn his world upside down if he let you in.

He almost did when Nick got shot. You were very worried for your partner, Rafael almost hugged you when you started to cry in front of him. But Liv called at the same point, so he didn’t. And then Nick left SVU, and New York. His departure hurt you a lot, for a moment, Rafael thought you two had some kind of an intimate relationship. But he remembered a conversation you two had.

“Hey Barba, we’re going out for drinks. Wanna join?” you casually asked.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Okay, first, do you need an occasion to go out for drinks? And second, it’s just that Nick needs to get his mind off the breakup,”

“So, it’s definitely over between him and his wife?”

“Yeah, she’s moving to DC with Zara. He’s not doing great,”

“But he can always count on his other partner,” Rafael said, without thinking.

You chuckled, “What does that mean?”

“You two are—close,” Hopefully, it didn’t sound like jealousy. Which it actually was.

“Amanda is the one he slept with, not me. I’d rather sleep with you,” you left right after.

This was months ago, but Rafael still couldn’t believe you said that. He tried not to overthink about it, but he couldn’t. Was this just a joke? Were you just trying to prove a point? Or did you see him as more than just a coworker? He considered trying to explore this, but before he found the courage to do something about it, Sonny Carisi joined the squad and became your partner.

You missed Nick a lot, but you welcomed Sonny with open arms, unlike the others at first. He will forever be thankful about that. It didn’t take long for Rafael to see that you had a bond with Sonny, just like the bond you had with Nick. Maybe more. Liv told him a few times that being partners when you’re a cop is very special. He understands that, but it doesn’t he likes it when it comes to you.

Few months after Sonny join in, Rafael heard the name Tom again. You must have to Sonny about your boyfriend. Since he didn’t hear that name for months, he assumed that you two had broken up. But apparently not. Meaning that there’s nothing romantic with Carisi, but you still have a boyfriend. So, Rafael tried to forget what you told him and kept trying to convince himself that what he’s feeling for you isn’t love.

More months went by. It was obvious for Rafael that Carisi had a thing for you. He didn’t like it, but there’s nothing he can do. But he kept turning down all of your offers when the squad met up for drinks. He didn’t need that. He didn’t want to know the you outside work.

One day, he showed up to the precinct. No one was nowhere to be find. He spotted a gift wrapped on your desk. Curious, he took a closer look. There was a card. He looked around, still no one. So, he tried to take a look at the card.

“That’s very noisy of you, counselor,” he heard for behind. You. He jumped from the surprise, let go of the card.

“A box on a detective’s desk. Had to be sure it wasn’t a bomb,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. You laughed at his excuse.

“Would love to see your reaction if you saw a bomb,” you said, with a smile on your face. Apparently, you aren’t mad, so that’s good.

“I’d rather not,” he shyly smiled at you. “What would your reaction be?”

“Considering that I’ve been there before, I would keep my calm and do my best to defuse it,” you said before walking to the coffee area. Rafael analyzed your words for a moment before joining you.

“Come again?”

“Spent two years with the bomb squad before joining SVU,” you casually said, handing him the cup of coffee you just poured.

In four years, this was the first personal information you gave him. He almost couldn’t believe it.

“I—I didn’t know,”

“Well, yeah. We never talked about anything else than our cases,”

“True,” he took a sip. “And why would that be? In your opinion,”

“Because you don’t like me,”

You had poured another cup for yourself and walked up straight to your desk after those words. You sat, grabbed the gift to put it aside and started to look at something on your computer. Rafael was stunned for a moment but joined you again. He closed your laptop, and leaned against your desk, right next to you. He had never been this physically close to you before.

“Why in the world would you think that?” He asked.

“We’ve been working together for four years, Barba. Not once, did you show some kind of interest in me. You’re best friends with Liv, you tolerate Amanda, you’re courteous with Fin. Hell, you gave hard time to Sonny for the first year but now you agreed for him to shadow you. But me? I feel like you wish I wasn’t here,”

Rafael stayed silent for a moment, analyzing your words. Indeed, he tried to keep his distance with you, but he never thought it made you feel that way. He felt very bad about himself.

“But hey, no problem, okay? We’ve been able to make it work that way for years, there’s no reasons we can’t keep going,”

“You’re very wrong—about everything, Y/N.”

“Then what is it?” You locked your sweet blue eyes into his. For a moment, he was afraid you may see all the love he has for you in his eyes. What reasonable excuse could he tell you? His mind raced. But thankfully, the rest of the squad came back at that moment.

“Barba, Y/N. Are you interrupting?” Rollins smiled.

“Nope,” Rafael stood up right and followed Liv into her office. You watched him leave. No answer. Again.

The gift was actually from Sonny, but it wasn’t for you. It’s for Tomas, who’s now 13 years old. The father left when you told him you were pregnant (he was a bit older) and never saw him again. You raised Tom by yourself, with the full support of your parents, luckily. Your son showed up his interest in makeup and esthetic about a year ago. You completely support him in his passion, brought him whatever he needed/wanted.

Sonny went shopping with his 16 years old niece Mia during the weekend and she wanted to go to the Sephora. He asked her what he could offer to Tomas.

“Uncle Sonny. Are you trying to seduce the mother by being so nice to the son?” Mia asked with a smirk on her face.

“Okay, first, I wouldn’t need to do that. And second, it’s just that—it’s not easy to be different. I just want him to know that he can count on me,”

“Like you wished you could count on someone when you realized you were bisexual?”

Sonny looked at his niece with wide eyes. He still isn’t out to his family. How could she know? “Last year, I figured that this Sam you talked about wasn’t a she but a he. And--I’m bi, too, Uncle Sonny.”

That’s a lot to process in two minutes, while he is standing in the middle of a makeup store.

“There’s nothing wrong with that…right?” Mia added.

“Oh, of course not, sweetheart!” He immediately answered. “When did you know?”

“I was sure when I fell in love with a girl, a few months ago,” she confessed.

Sonny hugged his niece and kissed her hair. “What’s her name? I’d love to meet her,”

“Joy. And that would be nice. I’m so happy I finally told you,”

“I’ll never judge you. And I’ll always be there for you,”

In the squad, you were the only one Sonny came out to. Which makes the two of you even closer.

After the gift “incident”, you and Rafael didn’t talk again for weeks. To be fair, he was trying to avoid you. He almost confessed his feelings for you and that can’t be happening. After this, Rafael decided to call back a woman he used to see. She’s beautiful, smart, nice and wants the same things he does. Exactly what he needs.

He never wanted to talk about his personal life at work, but one day, you showed up in his office. Rafael was on the phone, his back to the door. He didn’t hear you come in, so he kept making plans with Judith. You listened, and felt your chest tightened.

Before he hung up, Rafael heard the door of his office closing. He turned around; nobody was there but he saw you walking out through the blinds. You had heard and walked away.

When Rafael told you, you were wrong about your assumptions, you thought that maybe he was feeling the same way you did. Turns out, you were wrong.

It was Tom’s 14th birthday. You helped him planned an afternoon party. He told you he invited about 10 friends.

But no one showed up. Your son didn’t feel ashamed about his passion - thanks to you and Sonny, mostly - but apparently, his “friends” didn’t like it.

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me they were bullying you? On Monday I’ll go see your principal,”

“Exactly for this. If you do this, it’s gonna be worse. Maybe I should stop,”

“Stop what? Doing something you like? Not under my watch, T. Those kids are just the reflections of their close-minded parents,”

“Yeah, but at least people show up to their birthday parties,”

It broke your heart to see your son like this. You needed to fix this. You need to see your son happy. All day, every day. You went to the bathroom and called Sonny.

“Sonny, I need you,” you said when he answered. “Short things first, those stupid kids didn’t show up to T’s party. There’s no one here. Can you come? With Mia? And Joy? I’m gonna call Liv, see if she can come with Noah,”

“I’m with Mike right now so he’ll be with me. Call Fin too, we’ll stop by Amanda’s to pick her and Jesse,”

“Okay, that’s great, thanks Sonny,”

“Of course. Tom will remember his 14th birthday I promise. Why don’t you call Barba too?”

“Why in the world would I do that?”

“It would be rude not to. Don’t you think?”

“I guess. I’ll see. Can you be there in about an hour?”

You call Liv and she agreed, same for Fin. But Sonny was right, you had to call Rafael.

“Barba,” he answered.

“Hey, it’s Y/N. Sorry to bother you on Saturday afternoon. Um—if you aren’t busy, what do you think about stopping by my son’s birthday? It’s kinda unfair, but stupid kids didn’t show up. I call everyone, they’re all coming. But hey, don’t feel obligated. You don’t have to if you don’t—“

“Okay,” he answered before you could finish your monologue.

“Okay?” You repeated.

“Yeah. When should I be there? And how old is he?”

“I said an hour to everyone. And if you’re asking his age to buy him a gift, don’t bother. Right now, all he needs is people to be there to celebrate,”

“Y/N, don’t make me argue please. How old is your son?”

“14.”

“Okay, thanks. See you in an hour then. Text me the address, please,”

“See you, Rafael,”

Rafael tried to stay calm and natural in front of Judith, but there were some many things in his head right now. Since he went to the bedroom to answer your call, he lied to the woman he was with, pretending a work emergency to leave.

You have a kid. A teenage kid, actually. A quick count made him realized you gave birth when you were 17. Many things made sense now. He needs confirmation but it seems clear that, this Tom he heard about, is actually your son, and not your boyfriend like he assumed.

How could he not know about this? You’ve been working together for almost five years now. He really kept his distance with you. But somehow, he still fell hard for you.

“Hey Liv, I got a call from Y/N. I’d like to buy a little something for her son, do you have any idea?”

“Well, do you know anything about makeup?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Liv laughed. “Where are you? I can pick you up and we stop by a store to buy him something,”

“Okay, I trust you on that.”

An hour later, everybody was there. You welcomed them as they arrived. “If he doesn’t like it, that’s on Liv,” Rafael joked as he handed you the gift he had for your son.

“Nope. That’s on that sells woman that was clearly hitting on you,” Liv interjected.

“She wasn’t— okay, she was. But not my type,”

“Yeah, and Judith probably wouldn’t like it,”

“I don’t know about that. And she doesn’t need to know anyway,” he smiled.

Tom’s mood improved when he saw Mia and Joy. You and Sonny introduced them months ago and Tomas is crazy about them.

“What happened to your face?” Mia asked and Tom frowned. “No makeup, seriously T?” She added, before taking him by the hand.

“Wait—“ you stopped them before they reached the bedroom. “Tomas, meet Mike and Rafael, first. They are the only ones you haven’t met yet,”

It made sense that Tom hadn’t met Mike yet, since he joined SVU a couple of months ago. But yeah, it stings to Rafael. Five years. And he didn’t know.

“You look like a cop,” he said Mike, “but you don’t,” he then said to Rafael.

“Cause I’m not. I’m an ADA, Assistant Dis—“

“I know what it is,” he cut him. “Thank you for coming,”

“Can we do his makeup now?” Mia called out and the three of them — adding Jesse who wanted to go too — disappeared in the bedroom for a moment.

“Thanks, guys, for showing up this quick. It’s a mess,” you sadly said. “T told me that he’s being bullied at school because he loves makeup, lets his hair grow. Apparently, they are calling him a sissy,” your jaw clenched. Rafael saw the mama bear in you. “He doesn’t want me to interfere. But maybe I should anyway,”

“You’re here for him. We all are, that’s what he needs,” Sonny said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to bring you comfort. Rafael tried to avoid the jealousy in his belly.

Opening gifts arrived fast. Everyone brought him something, mostly makeup stuff. Sonny actually got him an appointment in a famous hair salon in Manhattan. Now that his hair is long enough, Tom mentioned wanting to get a real haircut. Mike listened to Sonny’s advices for his gift.

“This is from Nick,” Liv said as she gave Tom a gift. “He wants you to call later,”

“Mom!! That’s two tickets for California!” Tomas exclaimed before reading the note. “And he’s offering me surfing lessons! When are we going? Before—“

“Soon, my love.” You said before he could finish his sentence.

Then came Rafael’s gift. “You can return it if you don’t like,” he said. But Tom’s face lit up when he saw what it was.

“Mom!!!” He showed you the gift, with a huge grin on his face.

“Wow! You finally got it,” you returned his smile and moved a little to stand by Rafael’s side.

“Thank you so much, Rafael!” Tom stood up and hugged the ADA. Some affection Rafael didn’t expect.

“He’s been bugging me for this palette for weeks. I told him to wait because it’s damn expensive,” you whispered to Rafael.

“It’s okay. I’m glad he likes it,” he just answered.

Tomas was thrilled with all of his gifts. It feels good that with those people, he doesn’t have to hide himself, who he is and what he loves. Later, you noticed that Rafael setback from the others. You stood next to him.

“You’re not mad about the gift, are you?” He asked, before you could say anything.

“A little, to be honest,”

“I can pay for that,”

“I know. I see your clothes every day. But that’s not the point,”

“Then what is the point?”

“For the first five years of his life, I couldn’t buy him things. All the toys he had were gifts from my parents— when I made better money, I spoiled him. For years. And now, he’s a very smart teenage boy but he doesn’t necessarily have the value of money. Which I’m trying to teach him. And you showed up with this hella expensive palette, Nick got him plane tickets and surfing lessons. Even the appointment Sonny got him is expensive. That’s not helping,”

“Great,” he smiled, and you shot him a glare, “you’re not actually mad at me, but more at yourself,”

“Don’t do this. You’re not a parent, Rafael,”

“Indeed,” he took a deep breath, “And how come did I do not know you were one?”

“This will just bring us back to our convo from February, don’t you think? And we both know how it ended,”

“We were interrupted,”

“And you’ve been avoiding me ever since,”

So, you noticed that. You always noticed things. He hates that about you. He intensely looked at you, not knowing what to say exactly.

“But don’t worry, Barba, you won’t have to use force for that anymore,” you gently patted his shoulder and joined the others. “My love, do you mind if I steal your thunder for a moment?” You asked your son.

“Nope. Are you going to tell them?”

You looked at Liv for approval and signed Rafael to come closer, which he did. Everybody waited for you to talk. “I—I’m leaving SVU,” you said. There were gasps, widen eyes and Sonny choked on his beer. “Don’t die yet, Sonny. I haven’t finished,” you paused. “It’s no secret that my father was born in Sweden and move here after he fell in love with my mum,”

That, Rafael did know. You talked about your Swedish origins. “After my mum died, my father moved back there. And he’s been bugging us to come with him and considering I’ve always promised this one,” you said, playing with Austin’s hair, “that we would try to live there for a while, I’m actually taking a sabbatical. And next month, we’re flying to Sweden. But we’ll stop by California first, apparently,”

Only Liv knew. So, it came as a shock to everyone else.

The mood changed after that. They were all happy but also sad to see you and Tom leave. Mostly Sonny. It was very rare to witness a silent Sonny Carisi, but this was it. One by one, people started to leave the party. Mia and Joy took your son to the bowling alley. Rafael wanted to be the last so he could have a talk with you, but apparently, Sonny had the same thing in mind.

Rafael was helping you cleaning up the apartment when you noticed Sonny, on your small balcony. “How long has he been there?” You asked Rafael, who just raised his shoulders, clearly annoyed. You joined Sonny, not knowing that Rafael could hear everything you two were talking about.

“You okay there, Sonshine?” Sonny chuckled.

“A bit stunned, I guess.” He said, not looking at you.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I—I was afraid to tell you,”

“Why?”

“Because of what happened a few months ago. Because I’m scared to leave you. Because—I was afraid to change my mind after I told you,”

He finally looked at you. “I’ll never hold you back, Y/N. You know that? You talk so much about Sweden, so does Tom. I’m not completely surprised,”

“Under different circumstances—“ you said, letting the silence says the rest. Sonny turned to his side, so he was facing you.

“I was okay with being your second choice, Y/N, as long as you chose me. But you’re also leaving to be away from him, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “I don’t want to promise you anything, Sonny. But maybe—after that year away—“

He knew what you meant. Sonny put his hand on your cheek, softly caressing your skin with his thumb. Before he could lean in to kiss you, you both heard the balcony window opening. Rafael was standing there. “Who’s your first choice, Y/N?” He just asked. Sonny loudly sighed and turned his back to the lawyer.

“Not important, Rafael.”

“Por favor— answer me.”

“You, idiot,” Sonny muttered, still looking over Manhattan.

“Can—can you come inside for a moment, please?” Rafael asked.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” Sonny said, and turned around to kiss your forehead, “Don’t make anything stupid. Call me,” he kissed your forehead again and walked past Rafael to leave.

“Great timing, Barba,” you sighed.

“I—I don’t understand,” he struggled to say.

“You may be a smart-ass lawyer but when it comes to relationships, you’re very dumb,”

“How long have you—?”

“Been in love with you? About three years. Somehow, the more you pushed me away, the more it made me fall,”

“I pushed you away only because I was scared. Scared of the things I feel for you,”

“You can’t—you can’t confess your love to me as I’m leaving the States, Rafael. That’s not fair,”

“If I don’t do it now, when am I supposed to do it? Over the phone while you’re in Sweden? Or when you come back and choose Carisi?” He paused. “Did you guys sleep together or something?”

“Definitely none of your business,” you said. “And you had five years. Five fucking years, during which all you did was making me feel like a burden for you,”

“I—I never meant to do that. I’m sorry,”

“It’s too late, Rafael. I’m leaving anyway,”

“I’ll wait for you if you ask me to,”

“I’m not. Just like I won’t ask that to Sonny,”

“Then—what? What do we do?”

“Nothing. I’m leaving with my boy in a few weeks, maybe I’ll come back next year, or maybe I won’t. And everybody goes on with their life,”

“Are you saying that I missed my shot with you?”

“Probably,”

This will be hard to swallow. Rafael probably never will, to be honest. But one thing is sure, he couldn’t miss his last chance to kiss you. He closed the gap between your bodies, and slowly put his hands on each side of your face. Since you weren’t pushing him away, he took it as a permission and leaned in to kiss you. He softly put his lips on yours. Right here, right now, on your balcony, nothing else mattered but you and him.

Things escalated quickly. The kiss got more intense, and you used force to make him step back into your apartment. Still kissing each other, Rafael slid his hands on your butt and your legs, gently squeezing to signal you to jump in his arms, which you did. He pulled away briefly, just to ask you which one was your bedroom.

He laid you down on the bed, clothes quickly fly across the room. This probably wouldn’t change a thing, but Rafael made love to you as if his life depends on it.

Indeed, it didn’t change a thing. Two weeks later, you and Tomas flew to California, spent two weeks there with Nick, before flying to Sweden.

Part two, anyone?

#rafael barba #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba fic #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x you #nick amaro #law and order svu #law and order x reader #law and order fanfiction

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spooderboyandtincan · 3 years

Text

You're Gonna Miss Me When I'm Gone

Chapter 2

There’s a spider on the ceiling.

Peter can barely make out its eight gangly legs through a blur of tears. He feels some sort of bond with it- not only because of the DNA they share- but because they’re both alone. Then again, the spider has probably spent its entire life in this room, and Peter’s only been here- on a whole different continent- for a good couple of hours.

Maybe it’s just the jet lag. According to literally anyone who’s known him at all- he gets adorably grumpy when he hasn’t gotten his beauty sleep (Tony’s words, not his.)

Who does he think he’s kidding? He’s homesick, he’s alone, and he really, really misses Tony. Misses him as in the his heart is literally being torn apart sort of missing. He wishes he’d considered how his severe separation anxiety might play a part in this when he’d still had a choice.

Peter chokes on a whine- the one that forces its way out of his throat until he’s full on sobbing and gasping for breath.

He scrambles for his phone on the nightstand. He needs Tony, he needs him, like a fish needs water. He fumbles with the lock screen and desperately taps on Tony’s icon (a picture of Tony holding a proudly displaying a mug that reads “Number 1 Iron Dad.”) It rings once, twice-

“Pete? How’s it going, kiddie?” Tony’s voice, so gentle, so full of love and concern- he already knows something’s wrong, of course, because his Dad Senses are off the charts- makes the tear in his heart rip open.

“Tony,” he sobs. “Tony. I don’t- I can’t, I can’t do this. I wanna go home, Tony.”

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay Petey, breathe for me okay?” He can hear, just barely over his sobs, that Tony is pacing, can hear that his breathing is just a bit too fast, and Peter feels awful for freaking him out, but just can’t stop crying.

“‘M so sorry,” he wails, “‘M so sorry. I-I wanna go home, I want you Tony.” He grasps his pillow tightly and buries his face in it, trying to stifle his sobs, pretending that Tony is there, wrapping his arms around him, kissing his hair, rocking them back and forth.

“I know, baby, I know,” Tony croons, “Everything’s gonna be okay, we’re okay. Right now I just need you to take a deep breath, buddy- in, two-three, out, two-three, okay?” Tony demonstrates for him, taking exaggerated inhales and exhales, which are probably benefiting him as much as they are Peter. “You’ve got this, Pete, I know you do.”

“I miss you, Tony,” Peter whispers after a few seconds of shaky breathing. “I wanna go home.” He feels so immature, begging Tony to fly across the Atlantic in the dead of night just because he’s a little homesick.

Tony, however, seems to consider his request very seriously. “Do you want me to fly out? I could be there in a few hours.”

Peter almost laughs, imagining Tony arriving to the hotel at daybreak, dressed only in sweatpants and a stained AC/DC t-shirt. It’s actually not a bad idea- Tony could act as a chaperone, they could explore the city together, make another precious memory.

“Yeah, um, that-that would be great, Tony,” he sniffs, wiping the wetness of his cheeks. “A-are you sure? I don’t wanna, like, make you, there’s probably Iron, um, Iron Man things, I don’t-”

“Pete, listen to me,” Tony interrupts, voice again so impossibly gentle. “Nothing- nothing- is more important to me than you, understand? I’m here for you. Always”

Peter smiles wetly, relaxing back into the covers, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I know. Tony?”

“Yeah, bud?

“Can-can you, um, talk? Please?”

“‘Course I can, Pete. What about?” Tony says fondly. The idea that his voice can bring such comfort to this sweet kid makes him feel all… schmoopy.

“Anything. I just… wanna hear your voice, s’all.” He tugs the covers up and curls into a ball, resting the phone on the pillow next to his ear.

“I’ve got you, bud,” Tony says. I miss you too. “Oh, you’ve gotta know what DUM-E did today….”

Peter feels himself relaxing as Tony talks about his day. It’s not just the words that soothe him, but the familiar sound of his warm voice that’s full of such love and affection. His thoughts begin to wander as he drifts into a barely conscious haze, but the voice remains steady and present in his mind.

Tony is quick to notice that Peter is on the precipice of slumber and wakefulness, and is just as quick to provide the last bit of reassurance Peter needs to fall asleep. “Sweet dreams, buddy. I love you,” he murmurs.

Just before Peter slips away, he finds himself slurring, “Love you too.”

Tony stays on the call for a solid ten minutes after Peter conks out, listening to the steady whoosh of his breathing against the speaker. Before he finally makes himself hang up, he whispers a quiet, “‘Night, Petey. I’ll be there before you know it.” Tony leaves for the airport at daybreak, not able to spend another second in that horribly empty penthouse. The absence of Peter’s presence is tremendously obvious, and Tony finds himself desperately trying not to imagine the unimaginable.

~~~~~

With a pilot on-call 24-7, and without the hassles of a public airport, he’ll be back with Peter around early afternoon.

Thank god.

He steps out of the Cadillac, barely noticing the blistering wind and the tiny snowflakes biting at his cheeks in his haste to board the plane. He greets the pilot- Allison, he thinks- with a nod, but she gestures to stop when he moves towards the stairs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark!” she says over the howling wind. “We just can’t fly in this weather!”

To hell with that, Tony thinks. “When’s it letting up?”

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Stark,” Allison says apologetically. “Not for a few days at least.”

Tony activates the suit with a simple tap of his watch, the nanobots rushing over him within seconds. Allison gasps and jumps back, gaping as he rockets into the air.

He’s been flying for a good 50 seconds before a neon red warning lights up the HUD.

“Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y says, tone filled with caution. “The wind is blowing at a speed of 78 mph. I must advise that you return to the ground immediately, or you run the risk of losing control of the suit.”

Tony curses loudly. Just his luck, really. “How high is the risk?”

“89%, boss.”

“So, not all that bad,” he chuckles.

Then, F.R.I.D.A.Y reminds him how devastated Peter would be if anything happened to him.

Tony returns to his car on foot and pulls out his phone to call Peter.

~~~~~

Peter basks in the sunlight outside of a bustling café, sipping from a cup of hot chocolate. He’s ordered a chocolate croissant, and added the tasteless protein powder Tony and Bruce had synthesized to keep up with his spidey metabolism to his mug. Despite the jet lag, he’s eager to explore the city and it’s merits, his enthusiasm only growing knowing that Tony will be here within a few hours.

Feeling pleasantly full, Peter leans back in his chair- it’s an armchair, on a stool, and it’s driving him nuts, he loves it- and beams at Ned, who lounges next to him in an identical chair. “Dude,” he says.

“Dude,” Ned agrees.

Peter is grinning, Ned is grinning, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, life is sweet-

Peter’s phone rings.

His first thought is that Tony’s plane has crashed.

His second is one of relief when he realizes it’s Tony who’s calling him.

His third is that his plane has crashed, and Tony’s calling him, mortally wounded, to say goodbye.

Ned stares at him, taking in the panicked look on his face, and mouths You good? Peter shakes his head and scrabbles for his phone.

“Pete?” Tony says as soon as he’s answered. He sounds fine, at least. “Hiya.”

“Are you okay?” Peter asks first, because he knows that even if Tony sounds like he’s fine, that doesn’t mean he is.

“Yeah. Yeah, Petey, I’m just fine, I promise,” Tony assures him. Peter relaxes in his chair, flashing Ned a quick thumbs up, because knows Tony would never lie to him, especially not if he was hurt. “How’re you doin’?”

Peter’s face lights up. “Oh, great! There are like, dogs everywhere here, even in the restaurants, and I saw this German Shepherd eating like- dog ice cream or something? And I got this super good chocolate croissant where we’re having breakfast. Y’know, I really thought the jet lag would be super bad but I’m not like, tired at all yet!”

“Aw, buddy, that’s great, I’m glad you’re havin’ a good time,” Tony says, voice dripping with fondness. “You’re drinking enough water, staying hydrated and all that, right?”

“Yup! Are you?”

Tony scoffs. “‘Course I am. Hafta set a good example n’ shi- stuff.” Peter snorts. He knows Tony does his best not to curse around his- and he quotes- “young, unsullied ears" but he ends up failing quite a lot.

“Which reminds me bud, how’s Ted?” Peter’s best friend’s health has pretty much no correlation with cursing, which makes the teen think that Tony has a specific reason for asking about him. He decides not to bring it up though.

“It’s Ned,” he sighs in mock frustration. And he’s good, he’s right next to me! I guess I didn’t tell you yesterday, but the hotel guy put us into two different rooms ‘cause they had extra or something and we didn’t realize ‘til we got to our rooms.” He sighs again then, for real, his good mood evaporating.

Tony’s Dad Senses pick up on it instantaneously. “Not ideal, huh?” he says gently, which earns him a small laugh from the kid. “D’you want me to talk to them?”

Peter nods sheepishly, then realizes Tony can’t see him. “Yeah. Thank you,” he says in a small voice, embarrassed that the genius is going to all this trouble just because he’s a little lonely. “Are you gonna be here soon?” he asks then, because he misses Tony, misses him just like he knows Tony is missing him.

Tony clears his throat. When he speaks, the guilt in his voice could rip him in half. “About that, buddy, well- Jesus, Pete, I’m so sorry. The, uh, the wind is too dangerous for me to fly over, and it’s not letting up ‘til around Monday. I’m so sorry, kiddo.”

Peter’s heart sinks. “Oh,” he says numbly.

He hears Tony lurch up. “Hey, Petey- shit, I’m so sorry, buddy. I- you know what, fuck it, I’ll fly over anyway, I-”

“No! No, I’m okay, I’m fine!” Peter says, wincing silently at the forced cheeriness in his voice, and knowing that Tony has seen right through.

“Hey, hey, buddy, it’s okay, I’ll be perfectly safe-”

“You can’t,” Peter pleads, desperate to keep Tony safe. “Please, Tony, you can’t, you’ll crash, or-”

“Whoa, Petey, deep breaths,” Tony interrupts, voice gentle. “I’m right here, I’m fine, you hear me?” He waits for Peter’s breathing to resume a steady rate, then says, “Bub, I won’t fly over if it’s not safe, I promise.”

Peter sighs. He’s relieved beyond belief that Tony is keeping both feet on the ground where he’ll be safe- he better be- but he misses the billionaire more than ever.

“And hey, who knows, maybe the wind’ll let up in a few hours!” Tony chuckles. Sobering a little, he says, “If the weather is on schedule, I’ll be there on Monday, 6 am, sharp.”

Peter prays he will. “I miss you, Tony,” he mumbles- he feels childish, knowing that he’s just begged the man to stay in New York, and now is just making him more miserable knowing that he’s miserable.

“I miss you too, Petey,” the genius murmurs back, voice filled with sorrow.

“Peter!” The phone nearly flies out of Peter’s hand as Mr. Harrington taps on his shoulder. He gasps a little, and though his teacher doesn’t seem to notice, Tony sure does, his gentle voice turning harsh with barley contained panic. “Who was that, Pete? Are you okay?”

“Um-” he tries.

“Come on, now! The bus is almost here, I can see it around the corner!” Mr. Harrington says loudly, and abruptly struts off, frantically waving down the bus that is already stopping.

“Peter!” Tony exclaims.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, it was just Mr. Harrington,” he rushes to reassure him. Tony breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. “Uh, the bus is here, I- I have to go.” He hurries to catch up with his best friend.

“I love you,” Tony says. “I love you so much, Pete, stay out of trouble, be safe.”

He doesn’t want to say goodbye. Neither of them do.

“I love you, Tony,” says Peter. “I’ll be safe, don’t worry about me!”

And with that, the call ends.

#wip #chapter 2 #peter parker #tony stark #protective tony stark #worried tony stark #anxious peter parker #irondad #spiderson #roger harrington #ned leeds #anxiety #anxious thoughts #spider-man #iron man #st*rkers dni

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ectonurites · 3 years

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idk how to quote tags on mobile where is the conner kent essay i NEED it

ALRIGHT OKAY! here’s 5k+ words plus panels & screenshots of me comparing and contrasting the two drastically different versions of Superboy (comics vs young justice cartoon) and going over what makes them such distinctly separate characters. someday i’ll refine this a bit more its kinda just a word dump that’s been living in my brain that i wanted to actually articulate after i read through Reign of the Supermen but here we go:

Pretty frequently I see the question “Why is Superboy so different in the Young Justice cartoon?” float around in DC circles. I think there are two main approaches to answering this:

Why did the writers of the cartoon decide to create a very different version of Superboy?

What factors make this Superboy so different from the comic version?

For the first approach the answer is relatively straight-forward, from the start Young Justice as a cartoon was never meant to be a direct adaptation of the comics. They just used the title and a few elements so they could create their own approach to the DC universe with a focus on younger heroes. For example, Artemis Crock in their show is also COMPLETELY different from her comic counterpart, Zatanna is aged way down to be a member of the teen team, and Kaldur’ahm was created for this show (and integrated into the comics as Jackson Hyde). They were always trying to do different things than the main comics universe, so them making a different version of Conner also makes sense. Their approach to him is also very clearly influenced more by how he appeared in the Teen Titans comic run that was still coming out as Young Justice started airing (his design, and some other elements we’ll discuss along the way), as opposed to his original version from the 90′s/the Young Justice comic.

So the basic “why” is that from the start they wanted to create something unique to their universe, which they definitely did accomplish.

The much more interesting subject to dive into, though, is looking at the differences in Superboy’s story that contribute to him becoming such a different person.

The drastic changes made to the following factors are what I view as the main source of his differences in personality/outlook/characterization:

The conditions and history of the world at the time he is introduced

The circumstances around him being introduced/leaving Cadmus

The reaction Clark has to him and how their relationship starts

The people he first interacted with & became close to, and how he interacts with the world

The timing of him finding out about his connection to Luthor

The State of the Worlds

In the comics, Superboy is first introduced in Adventures of Superman #500 by iconically saying “Don’t ever call me Superboy!”

during a 1993 event called “Reign of the Supermen”, a follow up to the 1992 event “The Death of Superman”. Based on the title of the 1992 event, I think you can, uh, guess what one major difference in the setting here was vs. the state of the world at the time he was introduced in the cartoon. Obviously Clark didn’t stay dead forever, but Superboy first comes onto the scene as a young clone of Superman who insists he is the new Superman (one of the four characters trying to do so during the event). This is in the main DC universe in the early 90’s, which means that heroes in general, including teen heroes, aren’t a new thing! Not only has the Justice League been around for a while but so has the Teen Titans. Once Clark is alive again, Superboy goes off on his own to establish himself as an individual teen hero.

So how is that different in the cartoon?

In the cartoon, Superboy is first introduced in the pilot episodes “Independence Day” and “Fireworks”

on the 4th of July in (what most people consider to be) 2010. This was supposed to be the day that Robin (Dick Grayson), Speedy (Roy Harper), Kid Flash (Wally West), and Aqualad (Kaldur’ahm) would get to see the true Justice League HQ at the Hall of Justice, which... doesn’t go exactly as planned.

In this world, superheroes are a newer thing, this is something that the creators have talked about before. At this point, while there is an established Justice League, there are no known teams of teen superheroes. Just the fact that as of season one Dick Grayson is still Robin is a pretty good indicator that this world is early in it’s time with a Batman. Now, the sidekicks aren’t a secret, as they appear very publicly in this first episode, but they are almost always seen acting with their mentors at this point. Again, there is no Teen Titans in this setting, and there never has been.

So when they do form the first teen hero team? It is kept covert-ops. They do not publicize that they act as a superhero team, and the members who weren’t already publicly known heroes (mainly Miss Martian and Superboy) end up being pretty… unknown to a lot of the world outside the hero/villain community! Again their existence is not strictly kept a secret, but they keep the fact that there’s a team of minors who are heroes going on independent missions VERY under the radar on purpose. Thus, those who aren’t going around doing super public hero activities just don’t have nearly as much of a presence.

So to summarize:

In the comics, Superboy is immediately put in a spotlight (he befriends a reporter and is all over tv and literally trademarks the name Superman) becoming known to the world and establishes himself as a solo acting hero YEARS before joining any teams.

In the cartoon, Superboy is kept relatively out of the spotlight, immediately becomes part of a covert-ops team and doesn’t act solo very often. The well known teen heroes in this setting are sidekicks working under a mentor, and Superboy does not actually act as a sidekick.

What does this mean for Superboy?

Superboy in the comics gets to, right away, act on his own and get a taste of what being Superman is like. In the cartoon, he’s brought into the world at a time where there already is a Superman. I think back to this bit from the therapy episode, where he says:

“See, from the moment I first opened my eyes in that Cadmus pod, there’s been one thing I’ve wanted, and feared. To know what it is to be Superman.”

Comics Superboy started out getting to do that! He immediately got a shot at filling that role, and he then makes the choice to relinquish it back to the original once he’s alive again. He (begrudgingly at first) understood that it wasn’t yet his time to be Superman, and knows he’ll someday fill those shoes for real- but in the meantime being Superboy is gonna be his own thing and he’ll embrace it and make it work.

Cartoon Superboy is left in a shadow, not ever truly knowing what it’s like to fill those shoes (except in a doomsday scenario training exercise gone awry that he then just feels intense guilt over). This leaves him a lot more frustrated and lost, and I think is a major contributor to how angry this version of Superboy is compared to his much more ‘chill go with the flow’ attitude in the comics.

Cadmus

In the comics, in that same issue he’s introduced, we find out that Superboy broke out of his cloning tube prematurely and left Cadmus with the assistance of the second Newsboy Legion, who also gave him his first leather jacket, before the programming that would allow Cadmus to control him was implemented.

He quickly gets up to speed with the situation, that Clark is dead. So he comes on the scene starting to save people and saying he is Superman, or at least the clone of the original one. A major thing that does influence his character here is the fact that… this is the 90’s. He is designed around the idea of what is ‘cool’ back in 1993. (look, even his original character design sheets call him cool)

So right off the bat he’s got a stereotypical ‘cool teen guy in that era’ personality, which is often played for comedy to add a little lightness to some of the dark things happening during this event.

Anyways, he has left Cadmus, he’s acting on his own, and he starts realizing that his powers aren’t exactly the same as Superman’s over the course of the Reign of the Supermen story.

After the main conflict is settled and Clark is fully alive and acting as Superman again, the two of them end up going back to Cadmus to find out what the exact deal is with him. I’ll go into this more in a later point, but they find out he’s not exactly a clone of Superman (or Lex- him being actually involved as a DNA donor is a retcon that happened a decade later). They agree to let someone from Cadmus (Dubbilex- the grey guy with the horns in this pic) leave Metropolis with him, as he sets out on a press tour to establish himself as Superboy now that he relinquished the trademark on the Superman name back to Clark.

Let’s pause and look at how this is different in the cartoon.

In the cartoon, when the trio of Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad decide to prove themselves to their mentors they run off on their own to attend to a fire at Project Cadmus when the Justice League got called off to do something else. Upon arriving, they accidentally uncover some weird things about Cadmus, like the crazy amount of sublevels, the creatures roaming around, and the fact that it’s not on the main power grids. They eventually find Superboy, still in his cloning tube. They break him out, but then get captured themselves.

When they are then put into tubes by Cadmus personnel, they manage to convince Superboy to help free them by promising him things like getting to meet Superman, and see the moon. The group of four now working together manages to escape from the building and it topples down, where they are then greeted by the Justice League who are Not Happy.

Superman flies away shortly after, and the group of kids explain to their remaining mentors that sure, they disobeyed orders, but they accomplished something good here, and they are going to keep doing it, whether the League likes it or not. The compromise is the formation of The Team, to be covert-ops while the Justice League acts publicly, and the boys are joined by Miss Martian.

So to summarize:

In the comics, Superboy leaves Cadmus pretty independently (with some assistance) to go act on his own as a hero immediately. He returns to Cadmus later for more information, and they reveal truths to him about his existence. After he knows his truth, he goes off to continue establishing himself as a solo hero but lets Cadmus still supervise what he’s doing through Dubbilex.

In the cartoon, Superboy is rescued from Cadmus by Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad, without knowing pretty much anything about himself besides the fact that he is a clone of Superman, and is immediately put on the covert ops team.

What it means for Superboy:

Comic Superboy goes to act on his own, even after he admits he’s not the real Superman anymore. Yes he’s not 100% alone in terms of ‘he’s got people (Rex, Roxy, Dubbilex, Tana) around him’, but as a hero he’s a solo act and ends up taking residence in Hawaii. In the cartoon, by joining a team right away, he’s taking on a very different style of being a hero, especially because the team itself is covert-ops. Rather than regularly saving the day all on his own much like Superman, which can help comic Superboy feel like he’s still living up to the name more, cartoon Superboy is working under the radar in a group setting, while still wanting to desperately fill those Superman shoes.

He is overconfident in his abilities and wants to be the hero he was created to be, so him being put into this very different type of superhero situation is another major contributor to the frustration/anger. Even later on when comics Superboy is part of forming the Young Justice team, they were never a secret covert-ops team, they were always publicly known. (hell, a reporter is the one who gave them the team name Young Justice because he’d misheard Bart)

Superboy & Superman

In the comics, as we have established, Clark was dead at the time Superboy first came on the hero scene. Clark comes back to life, during a little bit of a lull in the middle of the huge conflict. He immediately accepts that Superboy is one of four who came forward to try to replace him, and one of the only two (Superboy & Steel) who genuinely only had good intentions in doing so. Clark, Steel, Supergirl, Hal Jordan, and Superboy then all work together in the big battle against the Cyborg Superman.

Once things are settled, Clark is curious about him, and where he came from and his origin, so they end up going to Cadmus together with Guardian and learning more about him, as I previously mentioned. Once it is established that Superboy is in fact a metahuman clone who was created to mimic Superman, but is not actually a clone of him, Superman still accepts him and thinks he’s earned his right to continue using the ’S’ shield and have the name of Superboy.

They part ways so Superboy can go on his press tour, but in general they have pretty positive interactions where they mutually respect each other! Not too much later in the comics even (I forget exaaactly when this happens but it’s definitely before the 1998 Young justice comic), Superman is the first one to give Superboy a real name, “Kon-El”, something he is so happy about he literally cries.

How is this different in the cartoon?

When the boys first escaped, and Superboy first meets the Justice League, Clark is standoffish. Other members of the league need to nudge him over to go actually talk to Superboy, and it’s not much of a conversation before he flies off and away, leaving Superboy frustrated and alone.

This… turns into the standard for almost the entire first season. Other characters constantly telling Clark that he needs to reach out and be support for the boy (like in this iconic diner scene with Bruce and Clark), but Clark consistently being too freaked out by the fact that someone made a clone of him without his knowledge to properly accept Conner. While this does over time get better, this being the immediate reaction when Superboy is brand new in the world definitely… has an impact!

He is rejected by the person he idolizes, and feels neglected and abandoned, and definitely kinda overcompensates with ego to try to make up for it.

So:

In the comics, Superman and Superboy work together from the start, not falling into a hero/sidekick situation but rather acknowledging each other as individual heroes with respect for one another. They grow to see each other as family much faster, and little tension between them. A crucial difference in situations, though, is that at the time these versions first meet Superboy is not actually a clone of Superman.

In the cartoon, Superman at first avoids Superboy, and does not offer guidance or mentorship or anything the boy needs. It is clear that he wants to work with Superman and be like him, since it was what he was created to do. It takes a lot of time for Clark to accept Conner in this setting, and there is a lot of tension for the first several months Conner exists. (they seem to settle this towards the end of season 1/during the gap between season 2, but it still has it’s impact on who Conner is early in his life)

What does this mean?

I feel like this is another major factor that contributes to Conner being so angry all the time in the cartoon, he feels immediately rejected by the person he’s supposed to be someday, rather than accepted by him. Again, very different from how comics Superboy got a chance to be Superman, and a chance to then work with the real deal as equals.

Friendships, Relationships and Identity

When Superboy is freed by the second Newsboy Legion, it’s primarily out of a ‘we’re clones who are stuck here, but you need to be out there, you’re what Metropolis needs right now!’ kind of idea. The first person he actually becomes close to is a reporter named Tana Moon.

Tana and Superboy’s relationship is… bad once it actually becomes romantic due to their huge age difference (she’s around 23, he is for all intents and purposes 16), but during the Reign of the Supermen where they’re still just friends for the most part, it’s not as bad. Tana becomes the GBS correspondent who focuses on everything Superboy (at this time still insisting he is the new Superman) is doing as a hero, and they become close friends.

GBS then also brings in Rex Leech (and his daughter Roxy) to be his agent, to promote Superboy and manage things for him. Rex is exploitative as hell, but Roxy does become another really important person to Superboy. These characters along with Dubbilex are his main supporting cast at the start of his solo comic when he’s in Hawaii.

In this whole era, Superboy is pretty much a celebrity. He’s cool, he’s a superhero, and I think it’s very notable he does not have a secret Identity. For a decent chunk of time, he is always just ‘Superboy’ (until, as I mentioned earlier, Clark gives him the name Kon-El. Even so, he doesn’t adopt a regular secret identity [Conner Kent, although he actually used a different one, Carl Grummett, before that!] until he begins living with the Kents in the early 2000s). By the time he joins any teams, Kon is pretty damn confident in who he is as a hero and has a relatively good grasp on who he is in general, if anything he’s a little too confident.

Young Justice was created in the aftermath of World Without Grown Ups when the trio of Superboy, Robin (Tim Drake) and Impulse (Bart Allen) had teamed up. After they saved the day they realized they worked well together and formed their team, utilizing the old Justice League base in Mount Justice. They were eventually joined by more members, especially relevant here is Wonder Girl (Cassie Sandsmark) who Kon later dates for a portion of the Teen Titans run that these four are in after Young Justice ends.

The four of them become close, and when Kon dies during Infinite Crisis it rips a hole in everything they had established growing up together over the past several years (Cassie joins a cult dedicated to bringing him back, Tim tries to clone a new Kon, Bart got aged up and took on the mantle of the Flash, etc) and Bart’s death that followed similarly shook the remaining Cassie and Tim. This group eventually does get to reunite, with Kon and Bart coming back during Final Crisis, solidifying how even things like death don’t keep them apart for long. It’s hard to look at the comic book versions of these four characters and imagine how they would be without their connections to each other... until you look at the YJ cartoon and see a world where they’re not even all part of the same generation, let alone a friend group.

Now in the cartoon…

The first people Conner primarily interacts with are Dick, Wally, Kaldur, and M’gann, along with the League members who interact with The Team pretty regularly, Red Tornado, Batman, and Black Canary. He’s shown to be friends with the other memebers of the team and get along with them relatively well, but in general he’s not much of a social person.

Much like in the comics, Superboy is considered very attractive, and immediately upon their meeting, M’gann is interested in him. Very, very interested in him.

At first it definitely does seem more just like an innocent crush, but it’s later revealed to be a little more… concerning than that. As in ‘Megan subtlety influencing Superboy to become her dream boyfriend based on a TV show she likes’ concerning. Like… she literally gives him the name ‘Conner’ after the TV show character that was the boyfriend of the character she bases her human self and entire identity on. The two date and once that becomes a thing, a lot of their plot lines in the following seasons revolve around the ups and downs of their relationship.

In general in this show, Superboy doesn’t really get much of a chance to establish himself on his own terms. Within months of him leaving his cloning pod, he and M’gann start going to high school with secret identities, so he’s already having to hide who he truly is to blend in with other people, before he even knows who he truly is.

So to compare:

In the comics, Superboy gets to figure out who he is as Superman’s Clone/Superboy very publicly, has multiple love interests and a celebrity status, and over time becomes part of a tight-knit group of friends. He doesn’t use a regular secret identity for the first several years he’s active.

In the cartoon, Superboy has one love interest with a very large impact on him, not nearly as much focus is given to his other friendships, and he immediately adopts a secret identity meaning he needs to hide who he is from the start.

What it means:

These factors play a big difference in his attitude, particularly highlighting how extroverted his comic version is and how introverted his cartoon version is. Comic Superboy never really needed to hide who he was until years into his career, vs being told to do so early on in his life. When you get used to needing to hide things so early, that can definitely lead to being more private/disconnected from others. Also somewhat related- in the comics, when Kon is given knowledge in his cloning tube, more pop culture got included. He mentions knowing Star Wars without having seen it, and references a ton of TV and Movies, vs the cartoon version of him that seems to have been given a lot of history of the world but not the current fun stuff. It’s the difference between knowing what’s going on in the world and what’s popular, vs only knowing the past and what’s fundamental. Not knowing pop culture like this can also really contribute to feeling alienated and lead to introversion. (I just... I think about how in the comics Kon’s favorite TV show is Wendy The Werewolf Stalker, in the cartoon Conner just... watches white noise static)

Also, having a completely different set of friends with different personalities has a big effect, people are always gonna be influenced by the people they’re close to to some extent. Bumping Conner up to Dick’s generation of heroes instead of Tim’s not only gives him completely different friends, but it also puts him in this position of being one of the ‘Original Team Members’. By this I mean, a member of the first iteration of the only teen team, one of the people that younger heroes coming onto the scene and joining the team in later seasons see as an experienced and older team member to look up to (despite the fact that cartoon Conner is permanently 16- they never fixed that for him like in the comics). That just creates a different dynamic entirely, because in the comics even when the Tim/Kon/Cassie/Bart group are more experienced on their team late in the Teen Titans run, they are still always going to have heroes like Dick Grayson, Donna Troy, Wally West etc as the older generation of ‘original teen heroes’ who came before them.

Also, while I am talking mostly about in-universe reasoning here, I do wanna bring up one slightly more meta reason that might also have contributed to them choosing to go for a more ‘introverted brooding hero’ characterization with him: the fact that their version of Wally already filled the ‘flirty jokey’ archetype original Comics Kon fits into. Having two characters like that in the show from the start would definitely get... overwhelming. And at the time this show was first airing, in the comics, he was relatively devoted to Cassie and not nearly as flirty anymore anyways.

Lex Luthor / Details of Cloning

In the comics, as I have already mentioned and will now actually explain, when Superboy was first introduced he was not the clone of Superman and Lex Luthor as we know him to be today. Kon was a metahuman clone, made with the DNA of Paul Westfield who worked at Cadmus, that they genetically altered to look like Superman, and gave powers based on the energy aura they discovered to exist around Clark’s dead body. This telekinetic field gave Kon the distinct powers he had for his first decade of existence: His Tactile Telekinesis (often referred to by him as TTK)

Lex Luthor was originally not directly involved in his creation, but he was aware that it was going on as is revealed during the Reign of the Supermen arc. Kon’s TTK allowed him to mimic Superman’s flight and strength, but not all of his powers. TTK also gave him powers Superman DOESN’T have, such as his ability to dismantle machinery or mold materials he is touching into different shapes. (The reason this is called Tactile Telekinesis is because there needs to be a tactile element, he needs to be touching the things)

It is not until 2003, a decade after Superboy was created, that writer Geoff Johns in his Teen Titans run decided to alter Superboy’s origin. He established that Lex Luthor had been the real human DNA donor and that Superman’s Kryptonian DNA was actually used in the cloning process. Around this time, Conner also begins to exhibit more of the typical Kryptonian powers, like Clark did around this age.

This information is at first only known by Conner and Tim, because the email had actually been sent to Tim directly. The two keep it a secret as Conner was not ready to tell the rest of the team, because he fears the implications it has, and is afraid of becoming evil or being rejected. This revelation about Lex being one of his ‘parents’ DNA-wise coming years into his hero career changes a lot of things for Conner, and makes him begin to question who he is. Unfortunately, Lex does at one point take control of Conner and force him to break Tim’s arm and attack Cassie directly (as well as the rest of the team, but these two specifically are what Conner expresses the most guilt over after the fact). This era of Conner in the comics is where he’s definitely closest to his cartoon counterpart, because he’s very troubled and dealing with a lot of heavy stuff regarding himself as a person. Yet there’s still traces of who he has always been in there. I mean, if you’re only familiar with cartoon Conner, can you really imagine his final words as he’s dying after saving the world being “Isn’t it cool?”

Now, looking at the cartoon…

Conner finds out about his connection to Lex in November, only a few months after having existed outside of a cloning tube. He finds it out on his own, from Lex speaking to him directly, after Conner went back to investigate the remains of Cadmus and ended up having a fight with Match (another clone who is able to pass for Conner’s duplicate who they… their version of Match is another thing they drastically changed from the comic version but as we’ve established that’s something they like to do so I’m not gonna dwell on it).

In the cartoon, Conner’s powerset is, from the start, different from both Superman and comic Superboy. Here he has heightened senses and strength and the ability to leap really far, but he lacks actual flight and some of the other standard Kryptonian powers, and has no TTK. The cartoon explains these gaps in his powers as being due to his half human DNA, and they introduce these patches that are able to suppress his human DNA and give him temporary access to full powers. Lex uses these patches as a way to manipulate him. Much like in the comics, Lex has a code word programmed into Conner that effects him, although it isn’t quite used for the same amount of ‘total mind control’, and he doesn’t get fully brainwashed and turn against the team or anything. Instead, the code word (here “Red Sun” rather than “Aut vincere, aut mori” [Translated as “to conquer or die" / "victory or death”]) just leaves him stuck in a hypnotic trance.

So:

In the comics, Kon finds out after years of believing he was a metahuman clone who was given powers to mimic Superman, that he is actually a clone of Lex Luthor and Superman, which alters his entire perspective on himself! This causes him to become a lot more unsure and anxious about who he is, in stark contrast with how confident he was before. There are still traces of his old self within him, but this is a development in his character that influences him moving forward, making him a bit more serious but still at his core the same person he used to be.

In the cartoon, Conner finds out after months of thinking he was a clone of just Superman, that he has half human DNA and the donor was Lex Luthor. While he always had confidence in his abilities, he was still somewhat lost as a person in knowing who he really was outside of things other people have assigned to him (teammate, boyfriend, superhero, etc), and finding out this information about himself just adds to the uncertainty and frustration.

What it means:

Having this struggle be something Conner has to deal with so early in his existence is one of the most fundamental changes in my opinion. Finding out that Lex Luthor is one of your clone parents is something that will alter your entire perception of yourself and who you are! In the comics, Conner had already been confident in who he was so it shakes his world in a really big way, but in the cartoon he still didn’t know who he really was so it just adds to further confusion.

I think that even with the more serious characterization Kon starts getting in the 2003 Teen TItans run, his history and past as the fun cool 90′s Metropolis Kid isn’t entirely forgotten, it’s still a part of who he is/was. Sure, maybe he’s sometimes even embarrassed by how he used to be, but it’s not treated as though it didn’t happen. All of his history comes together to create the character and who he is by the time he wears just a T shirt as a costume.

By skipping over the fun era of his life and jumping right into who he was when he started facing these huge changes, it creates such a completely different set of challenges for him and that contributes directly to how he’s characterized.

Putting it all together

The ultimate point I am trying to reach in all of this is that, beyond just ‘they made a writing choice to make him different’ the environment that Superboy was brought into and the events that took place right when he came into the world greatly influenced the type of character he would become. Every time an adaptation is made of something like comics, there are going to be changes and alterations to fit the world the creators want to make. Sometimes these changes are minor and don’t actually change who a character is (an example for the YJ cartoon’s universe itself: In the tie-in comics [issue 6] it’s established in this universe that the Flying Graysons weren’t just Dick and his parents, but other family members were active parts of it too. One was an uncle also named Richard, who actually survived the fall that killed the rest of his family but was left paralyzed and thus unable to care for him. This uncle already used the nickname ‘Rick’ which is likely why Dick ended up using ‘Dick’ as a name in a modern setting even though it has fallen out of popularity as a nickname because uh, connotations. This is something that is mostly unique to their world and helps to explain some things, but it’s not like tragically losing a few more family members changed their version of Dick and his backstory that drastically. At his core, he still has many similarities to his comic self) but they’re still changes, and that’s okay. Superboy, though, is such an extreme case where they made so many changes that at his core he really does become a completely separate character. Sure he has the name and design, but I was able to write five thousand words about differences here and am struggling to come up with more similarities beyond that.

I think there still could be specks of the original Superboy buried inside cartoon Conner, and that maybe he could have been more like his original version under other circumstances. Looking at these differences and where they come from is, I think, a cool way to begin to understand what elements contribute to who each version of Conner Kent really is. I think it’s clear from how I wrote this that I prefer the comic version, but there are definitely things that are fun to look at and think about with both.

if u read all of this UH thanks for listenin to me ramble! sorry if this is incomprehensibe!

#rainbowroadimpulse #sam writes #conner kent #superboy

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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

Text

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 25

Word Count: 2,751

POV: Reader

Warngings: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Thank you anon for holding me accountable on getting this out. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to do this last night, but here it is. When last we saw these two, (Y/N) had gotten called into a meeting with GM from the Capitals. Wonder what he wants? Let’s find out. As always love your feedback and Happy Reading! Let me know what you guys think.

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

You sat at your desk across from the Capitals General Manager, wondering if he was going to pull the rug out from underneath your relationship with Sidney. He said that your name had kept coming up in conversation and you knew that couldn’t be a good thing. Though why the league had chosen him to be the bearer of bad news to you, you weren’t sure.

Your stomach churned as thoughts of having to make a choice between Sidney and your job crept in. If MacLellan asked you point blank to make a decision right then you didn’t know what you’d say. “Don’t look so distraught, Ms. (Y/LN). I’ve only heard good things about you.” Well, at least that was something, though it didn’t make you feel any better at the moment. “It’s actually the reason why I’m here. I want you to come work for us.”

You couldn’t have heard him right. Was he actually offering you a job? “I’ve heard the players and staff talk about how much you’re making their life easier. I need that in the Capitals organization. If we’re going to make a run for the cup, I want our players to have the best of everything, and that includes you, Ms. (Y/LN).”

“I’m flattered, truly, but…”

The GM didn’t let you finish. “I realize I’m asking a lot. Name your price. I’m sure Mario is paying you well. We can offer you more.”

“It’s not about that.” For it really wasn’t.

“I understand Ms. (Y/LN), you don’t want to give any numbers away.” Again, he didn’t let you finish talking. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen off your desk and you knew he was writing down a salary figure for you; one you weren’t sure you wanted to look at. “Let’s start here and you tell me if I need to go higher.” He slid the paper across to you. “Go ahead take a look,” he insisted when you didn’t open it right away.

The amount was generous, more than generous really. It wasn’t that you weren’t being paid well by the Pens organization, you were, but this, well this was an amount that would buy you a Chanel bag every month along with matching shoes and still have plenty left over for anything else you wanted to buy. “It’s…well…”

“Say no more.” He wrote down another number and you knew it was more.

“Mr. MacLellan, this is a generous offer, but I’m going to…”

“I get it, I get it.” He said waving his hand to stave off anything more you wanted to say. “You need time to think about.” He stood up then. “Go home, take a couple nights to mull it over. I think you’d be an excellent addition to the Capitals organization Ms. (Y/LN). I’ll be in touch.” He reached over and you shook his hand.

You stood there speechless, as the GM was leaving your office. He turned though right before he exited. “I look forward to working with you Ms. (Y/LN).”

Stunned, that’s what you were when he finally left your office. What had actually just happened? The man did not let you get a word in at all, and now he was going to be calling you in a few days. You felt completely dumbfounded, both by the man and his offer. There was no time to think about that now though, you had a job to do.

What you didn’t know was that as you stood there collecting your thoughts, Sid was standing outside your office. Dana had mentioned that MacLellan was waiting for you in your office and he was curious what the GM wanted with you. Unfortunately for you, he’d only heard the last part of the conversation, the part where MacLellan said that you’d be a great part of the Caps organization and that he looked forward to working with you. Those words echoed in his ears. Were you really going to take a job with one of the Penguins' most hated rivalries? Better yet, were you going to be leaving him? That last part didn’t sit well with Sid at all. His stomach was in knots.

He walked back to the locker room dazed, going through his pregame rituals without any thought. Sid had done them so many times they were almost like a mechanical reflex. It was easy for him to avoid you, as you tended to give him space before a game, though he was having trouble getting you off his mind.

Sid put every effort into the game, ignoring that pit in his gut that said you were going to leave him. The game was high scoring and saw the Pens and Caps going into overtime, but the Pens were victorious. When you found Sid after the game, he was in a lousy mood despite the victory. You chalked it up to not winning in regulation and just remained silent as the two of you made your way to the car. The only thing that bothered you was that he didn’t try to hold your hand or give you a kiss as he did after every game, no matter if they won or lost. “Everything alright?” you finally asked once you were ensconced inside the vehicle. Sid didn’t answer right away. “I know it sucks giving up that point, but at least Shears was able to get the goal in OT to give us the extra one.”

Sid simply grunted in acknowledgment. You knew then that there was definitely something more than the game going on with him, but decided to wait until you were home to talk about it. The minute you pulled in the drive you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Sid, is something wrong? Are you upset with me?” You were both out of the car by then, and Sid definitely slammed the door with more force than necessary. “Sidney,” you yelled chasing after him as he entered the house through the garage. He was halfway in the kitchen before you got a chance to speak again. “Sidney Patrick Crosby, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me! There’s nothing wrong with me!” His voice was raised and you could practically see the anger radiating off him. He dropped his bag in the kitchen not even turning around to look at you.

“Sidney!” you shouted, in hopes that he would at least stop. When he didn’t you turned on your heel and headed back towards the garage. “When you’re ready to talk to me, I think you know where you can find me.” This was the exact reason that you hadn’t given up your place yet, because you knew there would be a time just like this that he would shut you out.

“Do I?” Sid yelled back, finally stopping when he’d almost crossed the threshold of the kitchen. “Maybe I’ll check for you in DC.” His anger was rising more with each passing second and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to just throw something

“What did you say?” You didn’t turn around as you tried to absorb Sid’s words.

“You heard me, (Y/N). I know you’re going to work for the Capitals.” He stomped back into the kitchen, while your hand remained on the doorknob to the garage. “How could you (Y/N)? How can you take a job with one of our rivals? How could you turn on our team like that? Or the organization?” It was then that you turned around and look at Sid. The anger that was once written all over his face gradually fading away to hurt. “How could you leave me?”

You were trying to keep up with all his questions, but that last one broke your heart. It was at that moment, that you realized that had the Capitals GM been there to make you choose between Sid and your job, you’d choose Sid every time. Sure, MacLellan had offered you a job, one that you knew the moment it was made, you’d turn down, but you weren’t turning it down because for any other reason than the man standing right in front of you. “Sid, I’m not leaving.”

He shook his head as if he didn’t believe you. You weren’t sure what he’d heard, or how he’d heard it, but he needed to know that you weren’t walking away from him. “I’m not taking the job with the Capitals.”

“But I heard him, (Y/N). I heard him say that he looked forward to working with you.”

It took exactly three steps for you to erase the distance between yourself and Sid, and though you took your hand and raised it to his cheek, to be even just a bit closer; he still distanced himself from you emotionally. “Yes, he said that, and if he would’ve let me say a word, I would’ve told him that there was nothing that could make me leave this team or you.” The dead look that had taken over his usual smiling hazel eyes finally lifted at your words. “I love you, Sid, and yes this job is important to me, but I realized tonight, that you’re more important than all of it.” That earned you a smile, as his hands finally came up to rest on your waist. “When I came to Mario with this idea, I had no idea if it would work or even be needed. He and I agreed we’d try it out for a year. I don’t even know if come March, he’ll want to keep me around.” Sid gave you that look, the one that said that the great Mario Lemieux would be a fool to let you go. He even made an attempt to tell you that, but you stopped him. “But what I do know, is that I want to stay here with you. If that means that in a couple months I’m out of work and job hunting, so be it; because the only thing that matters is that I get to be with you.”

Sid’s lips came down on yours in a bruising kiss. One that stole not only your breath but your senses away as well. It was minutes before either of you were coming up for air. “God, I love you,” Sid breathed out as his hazel eyes locked with yours. “I never should’ve believed for a second that you would take a job with the Capitals. It’s just when I heard MacLellan, my mind went into overdrive.”

“Your mind is always in that mode.” He laughed but it was true. Sid processed things so fast from years of playing hockey that when it came to your relationship, he forgot that there were two of you in it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his puppy dog eyes making you melt. “I need to learn to stop doubting you.”

“Yes, you do, but you’re forgiven. Just don’t shut down on me again.”

He hauled you in closer so that not even a centimeter separated the two of you. “I’ll try not to.” Sid dropped his forehead to yours as he continued to hold you in his arms.

“That’s all I can ask. Though if you have any tips on how to deal with the Caps GM, I’ll take it. The man literally would not let me get a word in.”

“I’ll call him right now and tell him your answer’s no.”

He started to walk away, but it was your turn to pull him into you. “Don’t you dare. I can tell him that myself when he calls.”

“Fine,” Sid reluctantly agreed. “I know you can handle him, but if he tries to steal my girl again, I make no promises.”

You sweetly pecked his lips, for it was adorable of him to stand up for you. “Deal. Now that that’s settled let’s call it a night. It’s been a long day.”

Sid had other ideas though as his hands slid down your waist and he grabbed your ass. “Mmm, not just yet.” His hands were gathering your skirt and hiking it up. “I feel like I should make a proper apology.” He dropped to his knees then, taking your panties with him. Once you stepped out of them, he glided his hands up your inner thighs, parting them to give himself better access to your core. Taking his index finger, Sid slowly dragged it through your folds. “Fuck baby, I’ve barely touched you and you’re wet.”

Sid just had that effect on you and you knew he loved it. “I thought you were apologizing,” you teased, while he just grinned up at you.

“Oh, baby it’s on now.” There was a wicked glint in his eye right before he spread your pussy lips and took his tongue licking a stripe up to your clit. You were able to suppress the shiver that wracked your body but not the moan that came from your lips. When Sid put his mind to something there was no stopping him and you had a feeling you were in for it, as his tongue flicked over your little nub. It was exquisite torture and had you leaning back against the kitchen island for support.

Sid lifted your one leg, placing it easily over his shoulder to give him greater access to you. His tongue found its way inside your pussy, pushing you close to the brink, as his nose nudged at your clit. He took his time, building you up and backing off when he felt you nearing that point of no return. You groaned in frustration every time. “Sid!” You growled, sifting your fingers through his locks, in hopes to get him to tip you over the edge.

You felt him smirk against you but he still didn’t relent. Your hips pushed against his face seeking the release he wasn’t ready to give. They only stopped when his hands gripped them, keeping you still while practically lifting you in the air. It was only then that he decided to be merciful. Giving it his all, as he ate your pussy with renewed vigor. When you finally hit that high, it felt as if you were flying and you screamed out his name as your body shook with pleasure.

Sid set you back on the ground but still held on to your hips. Knowing that you’d be a bit wobbly after the earth shattering orgasm he gave you. “You are definitely forgiven,” you breathed out when he finally stood up. He kissed your lips and you could taste your essence on him. You pushed his pants and boxers down, while your tongues entwined. It was only once his cock was free that you turned and bent over the island.

“Fuck (Y/N),” Sid hissed as you presented yourself to him. He entered you in one swift motion, both of you groaning as he filled you. There wouldn’t be a day that you would tire of this; feeling his cock inside you was like your piece of heaven on earth. One hand gripped your hip, while Sid’s other came around and played with your still clothed breasts. “So fucking good,” he moaned, thrusting just a bit so he was buried balls deep in you.

When he didn’t move, you did; fucking yourself on his cock. “Jesus (Y/N).” You felt his cock twitch inside you and you sped up the pace. The sound of your ass slapping against him and your moans were the only things filling the kitchen air. As you pushed back against him this time, you felt him snap. His grip on your hip tightening as he took control, slamming into your pussy. The hand on your breasts snuck down to your clit to rub it furiously. Sid was an unselfish lover, just as he was an unselfish player on the ice. Always wanting you to reach that pinnacle of release before he did, even when you’d already reached it once. It didn’t take much for the climax to hit you, as your pussy quivered around his cock, and with a few erratic thrusts, he came with you.

Both of you were breathing harshly, as Sid brought your body up flush against his chest. He dropped a few kisses to your neck, then tilted your head so that your mouths could meet. “I love you, (Y/N) and I really am sorry for doubting you.”

You twisted in his embrace so that you were face to face. “I love you too, Sid.”

#not so dangerous liaison series #sidney crosby #sidney crosby smut #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby imagines #nhl smut #nhl fan fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey smut #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey imagines

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

Me vs DC writers’ never-ending need to draw from the well of characters telling Dick Grayson he’s acting just like Batman: READY, FIGHT!

No but seriously, is it any wonder this guy is so driven to get out from under Bruce’s shadow and be seen as his own person when he can’t even make his own mistakes? Every single mistake he makes is really just Batman’s mistake and makes Dick just like him.

Like, Bruce doesn’t have a monopoly on trust issues, or being closed off, or just having a bad day. Other characters exhibit behavior like this or resulting from this all the time, but every time Dick does it, a character is waiting in the wings to tell him how he’s turning into Batman. As though there’s no possibility he can be making a choice for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with Bruce or being raised by Bruce.

Dick doesn’t reveal his identity to new members of the Titans? Its obviously because he doesn’t trust them and is just like Batman.....can’t possibly be because revealing his identity reveals his family’s as well, and Dick might just not feel he has the RIGHT to do that with people most of his family don’t even know.

Dick’s wary of new members and vets them thoroughly? Its obviously because he’s just like Batman.....can’t possibly be because there once was a character named Terra who he as leader allowed onto the team with absolutely disastrous results for them all and he’s scared of a repeat of that which the team might not survive a second time.

Dick’s reticent about asking from help from other heroes when he’s hurt or in danger? Its obviously because he’s just like Batman.......no matter that it also describes any number of other heroes whose literal hero complex means they’re reluctant to put anyone they care about at risk and rate losing people that matter to them as a fate worse than what might happen to them personally.

Dick’s closed off and doesn’t open up about what he’s feeling to people? Its obviously because he’s just like Batman.....couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that when he DOES confide in friends and family about stuff, like say, his fears of being swallowed up by Batman’s larger than life persona and losing himself in his shadow until he’s nothing but a copy of him.......his friends and family spend more time weaponizing this fear/insecurity of his as a dig they know will get under his skin any time they’re mad about a decision he made, than they do like, actually focusing on what this means for Dick and how to help him step OUT of Batman’s shadow.

Like, the extreme irony of Dick’s friends and siblings telling him to be his own man and not just do what Batman does......is that the second he makes a call they don’t agree with, the first thing out of their mouths is how what he did was obviously just because of Bruce’s influence and there’s no other possible thought process running through his head.

Let his choices be examined on their own merits, not constantly being scrutinized through a filter of “is this like Batman or not like Batman” as though that’s the only standard of measurement that applies to Dick’s decisions or behavior!

Sometimes a guy can be paranoid just because he’s been making enemies of grudge-bearing supervillains since he was ten years old and they all want him dead.

Sometimes a guy can be brusque and short-tempered just because his life is exhausting and stressful and he’s having a bad day.

Sometimes a guy can be hesitant to open up because he has a long established track record of people scapegoating him, not taking his side and dismissing his hurts as being easily overlooked or irrelevant or just him equally at fault, or using his insecurities and fears against him in fights large and small.

Not every thing he says and does has to trace back to Batman. Dude’s been making an effort to stand out in contrast to Batman since the second he debuted as Robin rather than Batlad, and its everyone else that keeps looking at the two of them and saying ummm I see no difference here or else only considers him to be doing things right because he’s NOT doing them like Batman. There’s no in between. There’s no allowance for the fact that yes Bruce has a large influence on his life and who he grew up to be but he’s still him, not Bruce 2.0, and there are many parts of him that exist outside of a simple binary of whether or not they’re what Batman would do in any given situation.

Is it any wonder that Dick’s frustrated that other characters seem completely unable to define or describe him without using Bruce or Batman in the same sentence?

(LOLOL can you tell that I’ve been rereading Titans stories and am irey about how overused this particular trope is with his friends as well as his siblings? Like, you could make a drinking game where you take a shot every time someone who’s mad at him says oooh you’re just like Batman, but also please don’t do that because you will definitely die cuz alcohol poisoning is real).

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Have you ever seen where they get kids to ask the players tough questions and there all dress up and have fake beards and stuff. Maybe you could do that with Jules and Katie asking the team all these really hard questions?????

Thank you for giving me an excuse to spend an hour and a half watching adorable kids ask questions and melt the hearts of celebrities. You’re my hero. There are no fake beards here, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Sweater Weather characters belong to the incredible @lumosinlove!

“These chairs are so small,” James said as he scooted closer to the table. He nearly knocked Talker over with his elbow as the four of them squeezed in; the two kids on the other side shared a look.

“Ready, everyone?” Dorcas asked. When she received six thumbs up, she turned to the camera with a cheerful smile. “Hello, Lions fans, and welcome to Lion Pride! We have a couple of very special guests today to do the introductions.”

“Hello! I’m Katie and I’m six!” She held up six fingers and all four hockey players melted a little bit.

“I’m Julian, and I’m ten.” He waved, a little shy.

Dorcas smiled. “And how are you two related to our favorite Lions?”

Katie lit up and pointed behind the camera. “That’s my dad!”

There was a chuckle in the background. “Can you tell them my name, mon chou?”

“Pascal Dumais, but everyone calls you Dumo.” She swung her legs and her tulle skirt fluffed out.

“Remus Lupin is my older brother,” Jules said with a grin. “But Finn thought he was my dad.”

“It was an honest mistake!” Finn protested around a laugh. “Cut me some slack, Little Loops!”

“Do you want to do the intros for the guys, too?” Dorcas asked. Katie tugged on Jules’ sleeve.

“Can I go first?” she whispered. When he nodded, she hopped out of her chair and ran to the other side of the table, tapping each player on the shoulder. “This is Pots, Talker, Harzy, and Sirius.”

“Aw, man, I didn’t get to do any of them,” Jules pouted.

“You can ask the first question,” Dorcas said, hiding her smile behind her clipboard. “A quick reminder for our Lions: if you refuse to answer any of these, it means you hate children. Take it away, Jules!”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat and looked across the table with a solemn expression. “How many sticks have each of you broken?”

“Oh, that’s a tough one,” James mused. “A lot, but not always on purpose.”

“I haven’t broken that many,” Talker said. “I’ve forgotten to return quite a few to the rink after games, though. I think I have about five in my trunk that I keep meaning to put back.”

“Maybe…ten? Fifteen?” Finn rested his chin on his hand. “I should start a tally board.”

“Too many,” Sirius laughed. “I need to be more careful.”

Katie wiggled in her seat as she picked up the question card. “Why do you swear so much?”

Matching expressions of shock painted all four players’ faces. “Have we sworn in front of you?” Finn asked in a small voice.

“Yeah.”

“Mon dieu, I’m the worst person on earth,” Sirius murmured as Talker leaned his forehead on the table.

James opened and closed his mouth a couple times before answering. “Uh. Well. I don’t know, Katie. Instead of answering, I’m going to take this time to personally apologize to you and your dad, who is laughing his a—his rear end off in the back, as well as promising to form better habits.”

“If you could be any superhero, who would it be?” Jules asked, seemingly unfazed by the previous question. Wordlessly, Sirius gestured to his Captain America t-shirt.

“Spiderman,” Finn said without hesitation. “He’s the coolest.”

James unzipped his jacket to reveal a Superman shirt. “We didn’t coordinate this,” he said, tilting his head toward Sirius. “But yeah, Superman’s the best.”

Talker thought for a moment. “I really like Hawkeye. Are we talking Marvel or DC here?”

“Anything.”

“Anything? Hmm. I’m going to go with the Flash, then.”

“Nice.” Jules reached over to give him a high-five.

“I got Jules’ approval, everyone else can go home.”

“What’s your greatest fear?” Katie asked, still swinging her legs.

The table went silent. Sirius turned to Dorcas. “Is this the plan? Get us rolling with fun stuff and then give the hard ones to the five-year-old in a princess dress?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Cool. Well, munchkin, I don’t like bugs and I’m not a huge fan of the dark.”

“Vegetables,” Finn said sagely, which sent both kids into a fit of giggles and made all the adults break into sunny smiles. “God, you guys are cute.”

“Pomeranians freak me out,” Talker answered once they had calmed down a bit. “They have those tiny little eyes and sharp teeth.”

James shrugged. “I’m not a fan of heights.”

“I thought you wanted to be Superman?” Jules frowned. “He flies all the time.”

“I think I’d be less afraid of heights if I knew I could fly.”

“So you’re afraid of falling, not heights.”

James looked to the camera. “And now I’m getting psychoanalyzed by a ten-year-old. Uh, yeah buddy, I guess so.”

“Hmm.” Jules looked back to the question card. “Who would win in a fight, you or our moms?”

“Your moms,” Talker said immediately as the others nodded. “No contest.”

“How would we even get in that situation?” Sirius asked. “What the did we do to make the nicest women in the world that mad?”

“Stole brownies,” Katie said with great gravity for one so young. “Mom says you four are the worst about it.”

“Mom wouldn’t even have to fight you.” Jules cocked his head to the side. “I feel like she could just give you a disappointed look and that would be enough. Katie, your turn.”

“Yay!” She brightened again. “What is your favorite cereal?”

Sirius smiled. “Fruit Loops.”

“Cheerios,” Talker said. “They’re good for you physically and emotionally.”

“I’m with Talkie on this one,” James agreed.

Finn gave them all disappointed looks. “You’re so old. Mine’s Lucky Charms.”

“Okay, Leprechaun Boy,” James snorted. Finn reached over and smacked the back of his head. “Hey!”

“Do you ever play hockey at home?” Jules asked. “I feel like Sirius doesn’t have to answer this one since it’s so obvious.”

Finn laughed. “Does tapping a puck around on the carpet with brooms counts?”

“Yeah, that counts.”

“Then yeah, sometimes.”

“I have no space in my apartment to play hockey,” Talker said. “Though I plan on moving someday and then the answer will be yes.”

“I made a rink in my backyard.” James smiled slightly. “Lily likes to skate sometimes while I run drills.”

“My turn, my turn!” Katie scooted her chair closer. “Okay. Out of everyone on the team, what two people would you take with you on a dessert island?”

“Desert,” Jules corrected quietly.

“Desert island. Are there deserts on islands?”

“I think they mean like super sandy beaches with no people on them.”

“Oooooohhh.”

James mouthed a thank you to Dorcas, who gave him a thumbs-up in return. The other three looked at the kids with unbearable softness. “Well, I’d feel awful if I took your dad with me, so I think I’m going to go with Finn and maybe Kasey. We’d have a blast.”

“Nice, dude.” Finn fist-bumped him. “Unfortunately for you, my choices are going to be Leo and Logan, since I already know we could live together without starting a war on the third day.”

Sirius thought for a second. “I think Nado would actually be able to survive on a desert island, so I’ll bring him along, and for the second one…maybe Kasey? Yeah, Kasey’s cool.”

In the ensuing silence, Jules gave him a significant look. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

“You’re not on the t—” The realization hit him like a truck; his eyes went wide and he slumped in his seat as the others burst out laughing. “Oh no. Oh, no, no, no.”

“Your own fiancé.”

“Please don’t tell him.”

“He’s gonna laugh so hard,” Jules cackled, leaning back in his chair. Even the camera crew was losing it in the background. Dorcas had to step out of frame. “You’re never going to live it down.”

“Well, the first person I would bring with me is Remus Lupin, because he’s read a lot of books and definitely knows how to survive on a desert island,” Talker said around his snickering. “And then I’d bring Cap, because God knows that would get entertaining after Loops finds out about this. The sarcasm would be off the charts.”

“Okay, next question.” Dorcas came back into view, still grinning. “Jules, go for it.”

“Can I ask Katie’s question again so Sirius can give a better answer?” he asked gleefully. Dorcas hesitated, then shook her head. “Bummer. What was cool when you were young that isn’t cool now?”

“When?” Finn looked scandalized. “I’m 24!”

“Yeah, and?”

“Ugh. Um, maybe Furbies? People were really into Furbies when I was in high school, though I can’t say I’m sorry to see them go out of style.”

James bit his lip in thought. “Tamagotchis.”

“I loved those things!” Talker said excitedly. “My sisters and I used to go nuts with those things!”

Sirius smiled. “Lite Brites.”

Finn’s eyes went wide. “I forgot about those!”

“Regulus and I each had one and we loved them. That was the only thing we agreed on and we used to sit—” He paused for a second to laugh. “—we used to sit in the middle of the ice rink in the backyard, still in our skates and everything, and do Lite Brites for literal hours.”

“That’s so cute, oh my god.” Talker shook his head. “What a nostalgia trip.”

Katie knelt on her seat and rested her arms on the table. “Who skates faster, you or me?”

“You,” all four answered in unison.

Jules rolled his eyes, but he was clearly hiding a smile. “How many push ups can you do?”

“How many can you do?” James countered. A flash of competition lit on Jules’ face and all the guys grinned. “Uh-oh, there’s the Lupin glare.”

“How about we have a little competition?” Dorcas suggested. “See how many everyone can do in thirty seconds?”

“Absolutely,” Finn said. The four of them had a little bit of trouble getting their knees out from under the kid-sized table, but eventually they succeeded and gathered in the middle of the room. “Katie, are you joining us?”

She smiled innocently. “No, I know I’d win.”

“Get ready.” Dorcas pulled her phone out as they knelt. “On your marks, get set, go!”

The guys went easy on Jules from the outset, but they made it look like those pushups were the hardest exercise they had ever done in their lives. Talker took a second to dramatically wipe his forehead and James’ wheezing was almost comical; Jules, however, was giving it his best shot. When the timer finally went off, Finn collapsed with a groan. “I forfeit.”

“Did I win?” Jules panted, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“You did, congratulations!” Dorcas put her timer away and winked at the camera as they headed back to the table. “Great job, everyone. Katie, your turn.”

“Do you live in a mansion?”

“I live in an apartment,” Finn said.

“Same.”

Sirius shook his head. “My house might be big, but it’s not a mansion.”

“Does a two-story house count as a mansion?” James asked. “No? Then no, I don’t.”

“Who is your least favorite person on the team and why?” Jules turned to Sirius with raised eyebrows. “Are we going to have another desert island problem?”

Sirius threw his hands in the air, speechless, as the other three cracked up. “Jules, can I adopt you?” James begged around his laughter. “Please?”

“You’ll have to fight my mom for that, I think.”

“My least favorite person on the team is James Potter,” Sirius sighed. “Not the person I’m getting married to.”

“We could get married. Lily might mind, though.”

“Full offense, but I know way too much about you to ever consider that.”

James ruffled his hair and turned back to the kids. “My least favorite person on the team is Remus Lupin, because he ran me over in practice the other day.”

Finn side-eyed him. “Didn’t you trip him after he stole the puck from you?”

“He ran me over.”

“Sure, Pots. Um, my least favorite is Kasey Winter. He threw ice at me while we were in the ice baths.”

“Logan took my Gatorade last week and hid it all over the rink,” Talker said. “I’ll never forgive him for such a crime.”

“Oh, I like this one!” Katie exclaimed as she looked at her card. “What’s the best birthday party you’ve ever had?”

“My tenth birthday was at Red Robin and I got a Power Ranger outfit.” Talker grinned. “I was the coolest kid on the block.”

“My eighteenth birthday was pretty fun,” Finn said. “There was a bouncy house and Alex almost broke it because we were jumping too hard.”

“Does it have to be my birthday?” James asked. “Because my son’s first birthday party was awesome.”

“Why?”

“He threw cake in Sirius’ face and a food fight broke out in the backyard.”

“That was a pretty great day,” Sirius agreed. “My last birthday party was my favorite.”

“You spent the night with us!” Katie said happily.

“I did, yeah,” he laughed. “And I had a really good time.”

Jules perked up when he read the next question. “I love this one! Do you have a lucky pair of underwear?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, totally.”

“Of course I do.”

“Is there a superstition I don’t have?”

Jules looked especially pleased with those answers as Katie picked up her card. “This is the last one,” she warned. “And it’s super important and super hard. What kind of dog would you be and why? You can take your time, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you, Katie, we’ll need it,” Talker said as he desperately tried to contain his smile. “I’ll go first, if nobody minds. I would be a border collie because one, I love them; two, they have a lot of energy; and three, they love making friends.”

“That’s a good one,” she said seriously. “They’re also very soft.”

“Yes, they are.”

Once Finn managed to suppress his quiet laughter, he raised his hand. “Can I go next?” Katie nodded. “I’d be an Irish setter. They have red hair and they’re really affectionate. Plus, I met one the other day at the park and haven’t stopped thinking about him.”

“This was a tough question, Katie, but I think I’m going to go with a golden retriever,” James said after a moment. “They’re good family dogs and they like to be on the ice with those big ol’ paws.”

“That’s what I was going to say!” She beamed at him. “Sirius, you don’t have to go. I already know what you’d be.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking highly amused. “Do you now? Can everyone else know, too?”

“Well, it’s obvious,” she said. “You’d be Hattie. She looks just like you and she gives the best hugs.”

A small puff of air left Sirius’ lungs and he blinked as James reached over and patted his shoulder. “Oh. Okay.”

“That wraps us up,” Dorcas said, looking between them with a soft smile. “Any closing statements from our guest stars?”

“Ready?” Jules muttered to Katie, who nodded rapidly. “On three. One, two, three!”

“Go Lions!” they shouted in unison with matching grins. The camera crew cheered and the players applauded, all laughing.

“Thank you for tuning in, everyone! Remember to like and subscribe for more content.”

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hellyeahheroes · 3 years

Text

Robin(2021) #1 Review

Opening this comic with an assessment of a character that I have no choice but to agree with is a cheap way to score points with me.

Anyways, we caught heat for being unfair to this story since it was announced because all of us wanted it to be a Cass story since forever. And it became yet another thing Damian absorbs. I mostly ignored it because I’ve always been open about my disdain for the character and his fandom for nearly a decade. I never liked Damian because put these characteristics on a non-white passing character, they’d be dead inside of year. Then again I hate almost all of Grant Morrison monstrosities.

Regardless, new story who dis is in full effect here. We open this bad boy up with Damian gone missing and the Batfamily searching for him. Nightwing tried asking Damian’s old Teen Titans team and they obviously don’t know and probably hope Damian is dead. Tim checked Arkham Ruins(???) and Damian wasn’t there. I honestly don’t think Tim was trying to find Damian. Steph and Cass checked Damian’s farm and Steph concluded Damian has been there at least because while Damian may be a little shit, he loves his dog and pet bat dragon. Barbara checked facial recognition pings and his transactions and dude is an IRS nightmare.

Damian is missing. Bruce is worried that maybe making a violent murderous preteen Robin raised in a cabal of killers to be chief murderer was a bad idea and is worried. Barbara ensures him that they will find his son and we cut to Damian fighting Snake guy in some musty ass fight put somewhere. Because of course it’s a musty ass fight pit because while the story is well drawn, it never claimed to be not cliche.

Damian hands the scrub his ass and it turns out Damian is trying to earn a marker to participate in some tournament. I liked this panel.

Not because of the artist flex of changing the art style, but it establishes Damian with a relatable hobby, reading manga. And not just a Shounen as you expect him to read but a slice of life manga which kind of puts his life in perspective. Also the lesson in the manga is reflective of what happens in the comic. Damian’s mastery is reflective of how he sees Hana. Hana decides to go beyond what her masters taught her. She decides to innovate and make her art her own. And that’s indicative of another flaw of Damian: Damian leans of the prestige of his teachers. He is the student that replicates the style 1:1. He wants to inherit Batman’s mantle, but doesn’t want to shed his teachings that he is proud of. And it comes down to this idea that Damian refuses to innovate and adapt because he is hiding behind his masters.

This panel saved the story so good job.

And after a talk with dead Alfred, it’s revealed that Damian is on this journey as a way to mirror Bruce’s journey into becoming Batman. It’s his way to iron his resolve without a catalyst to find a need to. It highlights his naïveté. He thinks that he can just simply copy the steps and get the same results.

Regardless what happens next simultaneously undermines the story or the impact of it.

Okay, when you think of Martial artists in DC, you immediately think Batman, Shiva, Deathstroke, Black Canary, Bronze Tiger, Richard Dragon, and Shiva. Why I said Shiva twice? Because Shiva is the pinnacle.

So to reveal that three premier martial artists in the universe are not only not participating but they were paid off to not participate, cheated out, or were subbed in as an entry replacement, it undermines the promotion. It’s like going to a Beyonce Concert only to find out that between the words in small print Beyonce and Concert was ‘s Sister’s and now you are watching Grammy award winning Solange. Sure, it’s an unique experience but it ain’t Beyonce.

And also, there is no amount in the world that would keep Shiva away from this tournament if it’s as prestigious as it’s led to be. Let’s be real. If anything, it’s far more likely that she saw the roster of scrubs and decided to make some scratch.

There are two characters that I recognize: Connor Hawke and Rose Wilson. I am not familiar with Connor so I am not sure if he is out of place. Rose is fine but y’know, scrub. I’m sorry Rose Wilson got her ass handed to her by Cass in the previous universe. There is no universe where I take her seriously in a fighting tournament to crown greatest fighter because the ass stomp was so thorough that Cass was beating Slade’s ego by proxy.

Back to the comic, Damian interrupts the host and basically is the fighting tournament trope of overly confident disrespectful guy with too many accolades which he will proudly tell you about them. What I like about this is the nice nod to the previous manga panel. Damian is not a great fighter. There I said it. Damian’s ability hinges on the idea that he was trained by the greatest killers and Batman but the issue is that name prestige doesn’t make great fighters. Too many times, comic books overly rely on this idea of fighting being a what you know and not being a game of not getting hit and getting hits in. It does not matter if Damian is trained by the League and Batman and it’s questionable as to how much Batman taught him in the first place. Hence why we see Damian with a sword or staff to compliment his lack of range. Damian can’t read muscle twitches like a Cass or Shiva so he has a normal reactive response and comics never highlighted his ability. The most impressive thing I’ve seen Damian do is catch a Batarang which is something I’ve seen Tim do. Damian overly relies on the idea that his teachers taught him to be the best when they simply taught him to survive in a fight.

“But why does Cass get away with it?,” you ask. Cass has this broken hax that is reading muscle twitch and immediately knowing the instant of what you are going to do before you do it or decide to do. Cass doesn’t need range because to her, you are screaming your intentions. She doesn’t need to block an attack when she can just parry. She doesn’t need to step back when she can just step forward while slipping all attacks. She is an autistic savant at fighting with an absolute defense. Damian is just another badass teen in a world of badass adults.

And the humbling of Damian begins...again.

Pros:

-Damian’s new costume. I like that he is branching out and starting to own his own colors. It’s nice.

-Using a character flaw to make it a theme. I like Chekhov’s gun via teachable moment. In tournament arcs, what separates the good ones and the bad ones is the idea that the hero simply must overcome their opponents and not their own self. This is why Yuyu Hakusho is awesome.

- Great art and nice continuity. It’s nice that Damian’s past wasn’t ignored for once and they didn’t just throw his Teen Titans characterization down the tubes. Say what you want, but it was arguably Damian’s longest run in spite of his fans hating it. And contrary to what they believe, it was very much in character for him. My fear going into this that Damian would not face any fallout and lo and behold he ran away.

- it’s a good start for a Damian story. Say what you want, but it’s unique in that the little shit gets his comeuppance immediately. And not that just by losing, but by dying. Damian has killed before and readily justifies it because he never realizes the weight of taking someone’s life. He’s been killed before but those were painted in a way that he is valiant. Here, this is death caused by his own arrogance. He mocks a fighter for talking shit and gets murked while talking shit. He spouts names of his own teachers and expects people to care or be weary as if Rose Wilson and Connor aren’t there. It’s a tournament sponsored by the League of Assassins, Damian. They have been taught by the league too.

Cons:

-Look I get promotion. No promoter is going to undermine their product but the fact that this tournament reeks like ABA is killing my interest to give a shit. It’s a convenient caveat to say that, “Well, a character won this so they can have the title but the title doesn’t mean anything.” I know of regardless of whom wins this, they aren’t the best. Go ham or don’t at all.

-not enough emphasis of the importance of this arc. Why even have this tournament? What’s the prize? What’s even the point?

-While the art is nice, the action is framed poorly. I like physical action like this to be nearly choreographed in a way I can see and piece movement in my head. The two fight scenes we get are somewhat disjointed in that it’s just poses. For example, Flatline’s first kick makes no sense at all and I don’t get her follow up. Trying to picture the movement hurts my head and in an action concept like this, it’s best to frame action scenes as more than doing poses. Here is a good example:

This only emphasizes the action and gets the reader to acknowledge that this a tournament of great fighters or at least a great fighting story.

All in all, do I think this story is off to a good start? Yes. Is it going to change my opinion on Damian? Hell no. My reaction to Damian getting his ass handed to him was this.

The issue is that it never sticks. Damian can learn and be a better person but the development never sticks. It becomes a cyclical series of events because whoever writes him next will just keep writing him as this shitty entitled murder rich kid who never learns anything and gets validated somehow. It’s been over a decade and I’m tired of the same excuses of his shitty behavior. I am tired of writers validating it or excusing it.

Damian losing isn’t an outcome I care for because it’s wasted on him. Honestly I am more interested in Connor and Rose being there. I have no faith that it will stick nor does it undo the shitty idea of the character. I have never wanted to see Damian fight. It’s never been fun to read about nor has the impetus of his character emphasized the ability or style. Placing Damian in an Enter the Dragon style tournament lacks the pizzazz of Cass doing the same thing. For example, let’s try Marvel.

Let’s say someone pitches an idea of a tournament arc styled after Game of Death. Immediately you think Martial Artists non-powered. Danny Rand, Daredevil, Elektra, Shang-Chi, Pei and Colleen Wing. Okay, instead of giving those characters the honor, you give the story to Black Cat. Honestly, I’d read it because Felicia could sell me a documentary on grass and I’d buy it but the point stands, why does Damian have this Bruce Lee inspired Martial Arts story versus the actual Chinese or East Asian Martial Arts focused member of the Batfamily, Cassandra Cain?

But this has nothing to do with what could have been. It’s a fun beginning of a possibly fun arc. In that regard, it delivers but what’s the point?

Like I said, fun story.

@ubernegro

#dc #robin #damian wayne #batman and robin #batman #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #batgirl #barbara gordon #oracle #dick grayson #batfamily

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maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 22)

Pairing: JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Happy Sunday (: Only two more chapters left and I’m sad about it.

Word Count: 6.8k

Chapter 21 Masterlist

My friends drag each other to Heyward's shed where he stores all his useless junk he'll probably never touch again. I always said Pope's dad was a borderline hoarder. But the clutter does nothing to distract me from what's happening to my brother.

I pace back and forth with my hands interlocked on the top of my head. As I move back and forth, my friends keep their eyes trained on me as if I might sprint back to the airstrip.

No one says anything. The four of us are try to defuse the ticking time bomb thats about to blow in all of our heads without actually losing our minds.

I freeze when I hear the familiar hum of a plane fly overhead. I feel my throat tighten and my face heat with frustration. And just like that, Ward Cameron wins again.

"There goes the gold," Pope says and throws his hat across the room.

"Shit!" JJ kicks the closest thing to him which happens to be a three legged wooden table.

"Fuck!" Pope picks up a metal trash bin and throws it across the room, just like his hat.

"Pope!" Kie yells.

"God damn it!" He continues to throw anything he can find. His bomb exploded and he's destroying anything in his path. "Shit! Fuck!" He finds a wooden baseball bat in the heap of the clutter and hits whatever he can find. Glass tables, wooden chairs, more trash bins. I'm almost mesmerized by his movements because I have never seen this side of Pope before. "Shit! Damn it!"

"Pope!" Kie's trying to clam him down while JJ and I just watch with open mouths and raised brows. However, Pope just ignores her and continues to yell and break shit. "Pope!" I can imagine the release Pope must be feeling from this. All my life, I've never seen him act like this. He's usually so composed, always the one to keep us from doing shit like this. I don't know how to react now that roles are reversed. "Pope!"

Pope eventually falls with exhaustion against the arm of a musty green couch and pants to catch his breath.

"Yeah, dude," JJ says slowly. He puts his hand on Pope's shoulder and squeezes. "I was wondering when this was gonna happen. Here you go, chief." JJ holds out his dab pen for Pope to take. Pope looks at it and for the first time, he actually considers it. "A little weed never hurt no one."

"JJ," Kie says, disapproving.

"Relax, Kie."

"You know he doesn't smoke."

Pope ignores both of them and takes the pen from JJ and inhales a large hit. As if this kid couldn't shock me more today.

"Well, maybe not until today."

"Pope."

"Yeah, what is that gonna help?" Pope says. "I lost my scholarship. Walked out in the middle of the interview. Every -" Pope inhales sharply and shakes his head. "It's gone. It's not gonna happen."

"You did that for us?" Kie asks.

"No, not for us. For nothing."

I never thought of silence as being physically heavy, but right now, I feel like I'm being weighed down by a thick fog that I can't swim out of. Pope's right. Despite everything we did right this summer to get something we all deserve, we ended up with nothing except for more problems.

"I'm here for you, Pope," JJ says. "Welcome to my world, okay?"

Kie looks at me for some kind of assistance, but I have nothing to offer. She sighs and looks back at the boys. "JJ -"

"What, Kie? He's right. It doesn't matter anymore."

"You don't have to do that," Kie tells Pope and motions to the weed.

"What do you care?" Pope snaps.

Before this can get any worse, I turn at the sound of footsteps approaching us. My jaw physically hits the ground, at least that's what it feels like, when I see John B.

His eyes are facing forward and his clothes are covered in blood. He looks like he's in some kind of state of shock and I am terrified to find out why.

But my sisterly instincts kick in first. I'm running to him before the others even see him and my hands are pulling his shirt up to make sure the blood isn't his. John B reacts as if I'm not even there and stares ahead.

"John B what happened?" My voice shakes as my eyes scan his body. There's not a even a scratch on him, but I almost wish there was. Because this means the blood belongs to someone else, and I don't want to think that my brother is the reason for it.

"Dude! Dude, you good?" JJ runs up behind me and looks over John B's body with big eyes.

"Oh, my God! John B!"

"Is this yours?"

"Whose blood is that?"

I cup John B's face in my hands and make him look at me. When his eyes finally find mine, I ask, "What happened?"

Before he can answer, cop cars with their sirens on pass us on the road behind us. John B grabs me by the arm and shoves us all back into the shed and we duck behind a wooden slack.

"Shit," Pope curses as his chest moves up and down heavily.

When the coast is clear, John B tells us what happened. Sheriff Peterkin showed up. At first Ward thought she was going to arrest John B for breaking into the airstrip and almost causing a catastrophic accident, but she was there to arrest Ward. Of course Ward wasn't going to go down without a fight and before Peterkin could react, she was shot in the chest. By none other than Rafe Cameron.

"Rafe shot Sheriff Peterkin?" I ask in disbelief.

I always thought Rafe was a lot of things, but I never had cop killer written down on my list. However, I do know that Rafe is the kind of kid who would do absolutely anything to impress his dad. He's been fighting for his attention since he was a tween. Maybe in his own sick way, he thought killing Peterkin was saving his dad.

John B nods. He tells us Peterkin told him to run. And as much as he didn't want to, he was better off with us than dead. Sarah even told him to go as she protected him with her own body while he ran away. Rafe tried to shoot him too but couldn't get his aim down as he sprinted through the woods to get to us.

"What?" I feel my blood turn ice cold when I think about Rafe trying to kill my brother. The one family member I have left. "Why would Rafe want to kill you too?"

John B shrugs. "Because I saw the whole thing."

"So did his sister," I say. "Do you think Sarah is okay?"

"Rafe wouldn't hurt her."

I scoff. "Yeah right."

Now I know that Rafe is pretty much capable of anything worthy to an eternity in hell. I don't think anyone is safe in his company. Not even Sarah. Maybe Ward.

"Kie, can you give me a ride somewhere?" John B asks.

We sneak through the back roads to get to Kie's house. When we get in her car, John B directs her to the police station. By the time we get there, the sun is completely set, blanketing the town in an eery indigo color.

Everything seems so silent to me now. The hum of Kie's radio, the shuffling of leaves brushing against each other, the bickering between my friends and brother. There's a ringing in my ear that won't go away until my hands are wrapped around Rafe's neck.

I feel like my brain as been replaced by a dark cloud. No ideas, no thoughts, no plans can make me feel any better or lighter. It's like an invisible hand has reached down my throat and twisted my heart right out of my chest.

Peterkin was the one and only person that actually helped John B and I. She kept DCS off our backs for as long as she could, she never rubbed it mine or John B's face that the whole island thought we were delusional when we said our dad was coming back, and she was even going to arrest Ward Cameron for my father's murder.

She didn't deserve to die. Although I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger, I can't help but think that her death is somehow my fault. It was my family she was protecting. She was doing her job, but she could have easily written my dad's death off as an accident like every other cop on this island.

"John B, what are we doing at the police station?" JJ asks when Kie parks the car right outside of the front entrance.

"Somebody's gotta tell them what happened." John B's voice is filled with sadness and guilt. I wish I could pull all this weight off his shoulders and add it to mine. He use to be so optimistic - always the one to cheer me up. Now that it's the other way around, I'm dumbfounded on what to do.

Pope takes another hit of JJ's juul and ends up coughing most of the hit up.

"Oh," JJ says from his seat behind Pope and pats his shoulder twice. "Easy there, chief. Damn."

I ignore the fact that Pope sounds like he's hacking up a lung and turn to look at my brother.

"Are you sure?" I ask him.

"All right. I'm just gonna be real with you right now," JJ says to my brother. "You might end up in the lion's den, but you don't go there on purpose. It's fundamental. Just like my old man always told me, you should never ever trust cops, no matter what the circumstance is."

I scoff at the idea of taking advice from JJ's dad.

"Your old man's an abusive liar," Kie says, looking through the rearview mirror with a scowl on her face.

"I agree with JJ," Pope says. "Fuck the police."

Kie turns to look at him. "You going dark side now?"

"When's the last time the police helped us?" Pope says.

"Peterkin looked out for me, all right?" John B says loud enough to grab everyone's attention. "Tried to, at least." He looks at me. "They need to know."

John B steps out of the car with his head hanging low on his shoulders. I bite down on my bottom lip, contemplating what our next move should be. All I know is that I can't let him do this by himself.

"Wait, John B!" I jump out of the car and follow him to the front door. "You're not going to do this alone."

I wait for John B to argue with me but he doesn't. Instead, he nods his head and leads me into the police station, a place I've been in a couple times by force. Never by choice.

There's a woman at the front desk who looks exhausted and busy. I can hear the mumbling of her radio on her desk and the static after each statement. I'm pretty sure I hear Peterkin's name but I don't know if it's my own head repeating her name over and over again.

"Um...excuse me, ma'am," John B says.

The woman barely looks up from her desk and writes something down on her pad of paper in front of her. "This is not a good time, kid." Had she just taken the time to look up, she would see the guy standing in front of her is covered in blood. Maybe then, she would be more worried. Instead, she focuses on her radio. "Adam, advise if you need air tran."

I open my mouth to give this woman a piece of my mind, but John B cuts me off. His voice soft and broken. "I know who shot the Sheriff."

I force myself to look up at him. He looks like he's trying his best to keep himself composed when all I know he wants to do is collapse on the nearest chair and just...breathe.

The woman freezes and finally takes in John B's appearance. She studies the stain on his shirt and the sweat on his skin, the hollowness behind his eyes and his shaky hands.

"You stay put," She says as she backs away. "I'll get a deputy."

I look around the station and feel an uneasy swirling motion in my stomach. It's unsettling. Like JJ's words are getting in my head. Maybe coming to the cops wasn't such a good idea.

My head snaps towards the radio when it statics to life again. "Central, three Vick. We have a suspect in our 31. John Routledge."

My blood runs cold and my eyes flash up to meet John B's. He's staring down at the radio like it's an actual person and he's frozen in shock.

Another woman's voice comes up on the radio. "Copy that. All units, be on the lookout for John B Routledge."

"Sixteen year old white male. Six foot. Last seen wearing board shorts, a 'Bad Brains' T shirt, and a faded red hoodie."

"Copy that."

My hands grab John B's to drag him out of here. My head scrambles to come up with our best plan, but I know staying here isn't it. Ward somehow managed to spin this around on my brother. I shouldn't be shocked, but I keep managing to be knocked out with more surprises right when I think things couldn't get any worse.

Just as I'm about to pull John B out of there, two cops come out from the back and stare at the two of us with big eyes. A man and woman dressed in their faded brown deputy uniforms. My eyes trail down to their hands that are both steady on the gun in their holster, ready to aim if they need to.

"Just...breathe. All right?" The woman cops holds out her hand as if to tell John B to stay calm.

The other officer nods. "John B. Do what she says."

"Look, I didn't...I didn't do it, okay?" John B tries to explain but his voice his shaky and lacks any sort of confidence.

"Dont...move."

"Go..." My voice is barely a hushed whisper but my tug on his arm is strong. "Go, go, go. Run!"

John B and I sprint out of the station before any officers can guard the door. I can barely hear them yelling after us through the drumming in my ears.

"Kie! Start the car!" John B yells as we basically body slam ourselves into her car. "Start the car, Kie!"

I basically rip the back door open and stumble into JJ's lap after tripping on my own feet. Everyone's yelling. The people in the car. The people running out of the police station.

"What? John B!" Kie yells as her hands shake. She tries putting the keys back into the ignition but her hands are trembling too much.

"The cops!"

"Shit!" JJ curses and looks over my shoulder at the cops who are sprinting towards us.

"Go!" John B yells at her. She turns the key but of course the car decides not to start. "Kie, drive! Go!"

"Go Kie!" Now I'm yelling at her.

"Stop the car!" One of the cops yell with her gun raised at the back window.

"I'm going! I'm sorry!" Kie says as anxiety cripples through her.

"Right now!" The woman cop from inside approaches the car. She tries to open it but the door is locked.

"What did you do?" Kie yells at us.

Kie moves the vehicle slowly out of the parking lot, but the woman is relentless. She runs with us side by side and hooks her fingers around the door handle.

"Open it!" JJ yells at John B.

John B opens the door to knock the cop off the car. The tactic works and she rolls on the ground. Only now we'll probably be written up for assault too.

I fall back into my seat and pant for breath. My head falls back against the cushioned seat and my eyes close. Okay, okay, think, Marleigh. Think.

Ward killed my dad. Ward stole my gold. Rafe killed Peterkin. And somehow, my brother is the one being framed for murder. Make it all make sense.

I hate them. The Camerons. Kooks. All entitled, greedy sons of bitches who don't know how to handle rejection or the word 'no.' They think all their meals should be served on a silver platter and kids like us are born for the sole purpose to serve them. They deserve to rot. They deserve to feel all the pain we do.

And yet, they don't. And they never will because that's the life we live. A life where people like Ward and Rafe Cameron can get a way with murder because no one would blink twice at their lame excuse of a story.

A lie.

It all boils down to money. Money we almost had right in our pockets. But now it's gone as is pretty much everything else in my life. My house. My dad. Maybe now my brother.

JJ laces his fingers with mine and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. I keep my eyes closed but let my head fall on his shoulder. I focus on his touch. How his thumb delicately rubs against my skin in a light up and down motion. How his lips are able to make my heart flutter when they kiss the top of my head. How his soft whispers, telling me everything is going to be okay, are sweet enough to make me melt into a buttery mess.

Maybe not everything's gone. I still have JJ. The constant in my life. The one who can always make me feel better even in the shittiest of situations. My sun on my darkest nights. My sight into the future when I can't even think of tomorrow.

I don't let JJ go. Even when Kie parks the car back at Heyward's shed under an open roof. We have literally nowhere else to go. The cops will undoubtedly check all of our homes, including Kie's. The Chateau is definitely surrounded by cops, waiting for John B and I to make the dumb move of going back there. And Tannyhill isn't an option anymore.

The sun is already poking out behind the trees as morning approaches. My body aches from sleeping in this cramped car, but I try to ignore the pain and focus on the fact that we're all still together. For now.

The five of us sit in silence. Some of us try to wrap our heads around what just happened and try to come up with another plan. The rest of us, like me, are so tired, they can't even remember what their middle name is.

The only noise in the car comes from Kie's radio. "...should be functional within twenty four hours." Meanwhile, another cop car with loud sirens pass us on the road without sparing this car a second glance. "And still, no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from -"

Kie switches the radio off and glances back at John B and I. My brother has his seat reclined all the way back and is staring up the at the ceiling of the car. JJ has moved so his back is against the car door with one leg bent at the back of the seat and the other one on the floor. I sit between his legs and play with the necklace he gave me a couple days ago. Crazy enough, it feels like years since he gifted me this.

"Let's game this out," JJ is the first to speak. He looks at Kie and Pope in the front seat. "Maybe you guys can help, being the smart ones and all, but..." He sighs. "...who are the cops going to believe? Ward Cameron or us? So the accuser is a big shot developer, kind of lord of the island, got the governor on speed dial kind of person, and the accused...is John B, who is...pretty much a homeless sixteen year old boy at the moment."

"Thanks." John B deadpans.

"Okay, man. Yucatan, all right? I'm saying that's the only option." John B gives him a look to stop talking but of course JJ doesn't take the hint. "What other options do you have?"

"Enough with the Mexico bullshit," Kie says.

"Sarah will bail me out," John B says a lot more confidently than I feel about the situation.

"She did witness the whole thing," Kie says.

"Thank you."

"You really think she's going to pick you over her own family?" I can't help the attitude that drips off my tongue with each word. Sarah's a nice girl and I really liked her. But Rafe and Ward are her family. "No offense, but you've really only known each other for a few weeks."

"Not happening, bro. Okay?" JJ says, agreeing with me. "We gotta get you off the island."

"The ferry," Pope speaks up for the first time all morning. "It's the only way."

"Exit stage left while you still can. Before the entire island is on lockdown."

"Guys, just get down," Kie slumps further into her seat as another round of sirens pass us.

"Sarah's not a Pogue, John B," Pope says. He has a point. Sarah hasn't been friends with all of us for that long. I almost wouldn't even blame her if she took her family's side.

"Yeah. You can't stay here, man," JJ says, tightening his hold on me.

Another moment of silence passes through us and I wonder if JJ's right. Adrenaline on the island is at an all time high. No cop, no lawyer, no person is going to believe John B over Ward. Not without evidence. We need time to clear John B's name. So maybe getting him off the island would be best. Even if it's just temporary.

~ ~ ~

When Kie parks in front of the ferry, Pope hops out to buy the tickets and Kie moves to the passenger seat. I offered to go with him but JJ told me that was a bad idea because I would get recognized as John B's sister.

So here I am, useless and laying down as flat as I can next to John B to avoid being seen through the windows.

I look at John B. His eyes are closed and his chest moves heavily up and down. His fingers flex and clench into fists every couple of seconds. I wonder if his fractured hand is starting to hurt him.

"The first thing we're doing when we get off this stupid island is buying you a new outfit," I say. I cringe in disgust when I look at Peterkin's blood stain on his clothes. Another reminder that she's dead.

I look up to the front seat window when Pope comes back to the car. He's mumbling to himself and I think he has something in his hand.

"Okay. All right, no."

"Pope, can you act normal?" Kie says through clenched teeth and unlocks the door for Pope to get in.

"Okay, um...okay, so, bad news. The ferry's closed, and there is this."

Kie takes a piece of paper from his hand and looks at it. Her eyes close for half a second and she shakes her head. "Shit."

"What is that? What is this?" John B asks.

JJ snags the paper out of Kie's hand and looks at it. "Well, John B, uh...this is a good framer of you." He turns the paper over and shows my brother and I a picture of John B on a 'WANTED' sign with a cash reward of $25,000.

"Okay, so the whole island's looking for John B right now," Pope says.

"That's a lot of money," I can't help but laugh. "Gotta say, John B. Didn't think you would be worth that much. Hell, maybe I'll turn you in."

"Congratulations John B, you're famous," JJ says.

John B slaps the outside of my thigh with the back of his hand. I scoff and slap him back, which causes a strings of slaps and hits, though mostly playful, and some a little harder.

"Stop. Guys, stop!" Kie says loudly. JJ pulls my hands away from my brother and folds them in my lap. He gives me a warning look, like a teacher would their student, and it makes me want to laugh about how bizarre this whole thing is. "We got to get to the HMS. We need small, no running lights -"

"It's at the Chateau, Kie," John B says.

"And I wonder if the cops got the entire place taken out," JJ says sarcastically. "Let me think. Oh, yeah. No. they definitely have that place locked down."

"Let me think. Just give me a second," John B says frustratingly.

"JJ," Pope says.

"What?" He looks up.

"Does your dad still have the boat? The cigarette boat, the Phantom. The one he used to race."

I look up at JJ, but I can't read his emotions. He keeps his face unfazed. "Maybe."

"You could get right up the coast, no problem. Okay, look - "

"It won't be easy, Pope."

"The surf's running from three to four."

"I don't know where the keys are."

"Well, find them."

"I'm thinking," JJ snaps.

"Why is nobody moving forward?" Pope yells at the car in front of us and bangs the palm of his hand on the steering wheel.

I rub my fingers in a circular motion on my temples and close my eyes again. Words are being spat at about a million miles per hour. It's hard to keep up and my blood vessels twist with anxiety.

"Can you relax?" Kie hisses. "JJ, how much weed did you give him?"

"Guys," John B says. "Your car's on the poster."

Pope ignores everyone and hits his fist against the horn of the car. "Can we move it?"

"Pope!"

I'm going to puke.

"Come on!"

"Don't honk the horn!" Kie says, hitting Pope's arms away from the wheel.

"It's that guy. Right there!" I hear a voice outside our window say. The voice sounds young. Kid-like.

"Shit," John B tries pushing himself further into his seat. I didn't even realize he sat up in the first place.

"We got a snitch. Pope, turn the car on," JJ says, sitting up in his seat and leaning forward to hit Pope on the shoulder.

"We get $25,000 if we find him!" The kid says.

"Hey! He's right there!" Another voice. Manly. Great, we're drawing a crowd.

"Hey! We gotta go!" Kie yells.

"Pope, go!" I yell.

"Turn the car on!" JJ yells.

We're all yelling and I think my eardrums might burst.

"I found him first!" The kid says to the man.

"Hell you did, you little bastard!"

"Pope, turn the frickin' car on!" JJ yells.

The crowd starts growing around the car. John B turns into my side and pulls his hood up over his head.

"I am trying!" Pope yells back at us.

"Turn the car on!"

"Go, go, go!"

Pope jerks the car forward and hits the car in front of us. I jolt forward in the middle seat and stop myself from going through the windshield by pressing my two arms on the front two seats.

I hear the crowd gasp and move backwards to avoid the nutso in the front seat. Now that I think about it, who let Pope drive in the first place?

"Pope! Jeez!" JJ curses.

"Dude, back up!" Kie yells.

Pope puts the car in reverse and steps on the gas, but hits another car in the process.

"Hey!"

"The other way!"

JJ pats Pope's shoulder again. "It's okay! Pope, just go!"

Pope hits the corner of Kie's front bumper against the car in front of us again but continues to step on the gas until we're completely out of our spot.

"What are you doing?" Kie yells at him.

"We'll bump out!"

"Watch out!" I yell when I spot a couple of people crossing the street before Pope can kill them.

"Whoa! Whoa! Watch out!" Pope yells and swings his hands in front of him to motion for the people to jump out of the way. "Watch out!" My back hits the back of my seat, hard. Pope has the audacity to laugh. Head back and all. "Oh my god."

"Pope!" Kie yells. "What the fuck?"

"I'm living my best life right now," Pope says through laughter.

Kie slumps in her seat. "My mom's gonna kill me."

"I should be the last to say this, but you are not okay to drive," JJ says. I turn to glare at him and he puts his hands up in the air to surrender. He looks back out to the road and yells, "Stop!"

Pope stomps on the brakes and sends us skidding to a stop. JJ's arm whips out to the right to stop me from flying forward.

We're gonna die.

Pope looks over his shoulder at my brother. "John B, get out."

"What?" I glare.

"He's right," JJ says and my head snaps to him. He ignores me. "We'll draw the cops, you run."

"Shit," John B curses and unbuckles himself.

"I'll get the rig, and I'll meet you in the dump tomorrow, okay? Three o'clock, okay?"

"Wait, I'm coming with you," I say, but John B shakes his head.

"No. You stay here. Stay with them."

"I'm not leaving you!" I fight back and look at him like he has two heads. He must think I'm crazy if he thinks I'm going to let him run away by himself.

"JJ -" John B looks at him.

"On it. Go!" JJ's hands wrap around my waist, forcing me to stay in the car. I try prying his fingers off of me, but he's a lot stronger than I am. John B starts running off. "Three tomorrow at the dump!" When John B disappears behind the tree, JJ finally lets me go. I turn around and shove him back by his chest and slide over to the seat that John B was just in. JJ sighs and looks forward again. "Come on, go, go, go!"

Pope steps on the gas again and veers forward.

I look out the window and ignore the queasiness that has fully taken over my stomach. I know John B and JJ were right to keep me in the car. I would only slow John B down and get myself in trouble and therefore, be completely useless in helping my brother. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm abandoning him.

~ ~ ~

Pope, for some reason, is still driving. I don't know where he's going but it seems like we're on our way to Figure Eight. Pope turns on the radio, blasting one of North Carolina's hip hop stations.

JJ leans forward in the middle seat and pushes his head between Kie and Pope. He's managing to laugh like we're on some joy ride on Memorial Day weekend. "Pope, you clocked that car, man. Like that was so bad!" JJ shakes his head. "I'm just glad I'm not driving now."

" Pull over." Kie tells Pope. "JJ, it's not funny. He shouldn't be driving."

JJ grimaces. "Mama's mad."

Pope pulls the car over and switches seats with Kie. A delirious grin stays on the high boy's lips as he settles in the passenger seat.

"What are you -"

"Where are we going?" I ask Kie as she makes a familiar right turn.

"The last place they're gonna look." Kie says.

~ ~ ~

By the time Kie pulls up to Tannyhill, the sun has disappeared into the horizon and the pit of my stomach is the size of a category five hurricane. I can't remember the last time I ate or drank anything and the pounding in my head feels like a hundred bullets are penetrating my skull.

Kie's brilliant idea is to somehow get to Sarah and convince her to go to the police to confess what actually happened.

"Perfectly focused," Pope says to himself, which makes me glare at him. Pope is anything but focused.

"You sure this is a good idea?" JJ says.

"She's the only one who can clear John B," Kie says.

"Last place they'll look because of how stupid it is."

Kie ignores JJ and gets out of the car with Pope following right behind her. When I open the door, JJ pulls me back and closes the door again.

I look at him. My first reaction is to be concerned. Something in JJ's expression makes me fold. For a second I forget the mess we're in and I get lost in his blue eyes. It's just me and JJ and the world outside of this car no longer exists.

His warm hand wraps around my smaller one and he pulls me closer into him. His other hand cups my face, right underneath my jaw. My face feels like it's physically sparkling with the touch of his breath and forget butterflies - there is a zoo in the pit of my stomach. I glide into JJ like magnet.

His lips press into mine and I cave in. I pull him close enough to where I'm straddling him. Time stops as does my breathing. My fingers run through his blonde hair, tugging on the ends. He stifles back a moan and my face flushes pink.

I pull back for breath and rest my forehead against his. I don't know how many more times we're going to get to do that. And it hurts me thinking it might come to an end.

"I'm sorry," I say.

JJ ignores me. "When we get to Yucatan, we're getting a bungalow. We're going to live in bathing suits and get drunk off of pina coladas every day. Skinny dipping is going to be our main source of exercise - well, other than the hot dangerous sex we're gonna have every night. I'm never going to leave your side and I'm going to keep you safe until the day we die. In a few years, we'll get married. You're gonna wear that dress you wore to Midsummers and we're gonna have beautiful beach babies who will go on to win surfing championships by the time they're ten because they're going to be prodigies. Our prodigies. And John B is going to be there with us. Because he's not going to jail for a crime he didn't commit. Okay?"

I don't even realize tears are streaming down my face until he's wiping his thumb against my wet cheek.

"Promise?" My voice cracks and I really wish it didn't. But that's the life I want. That's the life I need. I don't care if it's in Yucatan or in the middle of a deserted island. I just need my boys, Kie, and Pope.

JJ kisses my left cheek. Then my right and my nose. "I promise."

"I love you, J."

"And I love you. Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to make sure you're okay."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

JJ laughs. "Okay."

As much as I don't want to leave him, as much as I'd rather stay here with JJ and forget about all our problems, I know I can't. Because Kie is probably freaking out, waiting for me. Because John B is on the run somewhere and I need to do something, anything to help him.

"I should probably..."

JJ rolls his eyes playfully. "Yeah I know. Be quick. Okay?"

I nod and jump out of the car before my head or my heart can make me do otherwise. I push my legs, that feel like rubber, over the stone wall that lines the Cameron's property.

I stop in my tracks when I hear Pope and Kie in some kind of intense conversation...well as intense as Pope can handle right now. I think he's still super high.

"Pope! Pope! Pope! Sh!" Kie says in a hushed tone.

"Hey, I'm trying to tell you, I love you."

Oh shit. I look at the stone wall I just jumped over and consider jumping back over it to avoid eavesdropping on this conversation.

"First of all, I need you to be quiet," Kie says.

"Okay, yeah. Quiet, I mean -"

"No. Stop talking, like, now." Kie says. This time, Pope doesn't speak. "Second of all...thank you for saying that."

I can't help but physically cringe at that statement. Because I know what's coming next.

"Okay," Pope chuckles.

"Now, that's very sweet, but it's - look it's not gonna happen."

"Okay, well, why not?"

This is like a car wreck you can't look away from. I had a feeling Pope was in love with Kie for years now. But he never acted on it. Didn't even flirt with her the way JJ did before we were together. A part of me always hoped he did. Because I wanted to see how Kie would react. I think the two of them would be really cute together. Kie could teach Pope to take more risks and Pope could give her a beautiful life that didn't require her working for her parents forever. They compliment each other. Always have.

"Because Pogues can't mack on other Pogues."

Pope scoffs. "That rule doesn't make sense, and nobody follows it. I mean look at JJ and Marleigh -"

"Look, I - I want something different."

"Okay, I-"

"I - I wanna go to Antartica, and I wanna ride camels..."

"I want to do those things with you."

"No. Pope, it's not gonna work."

"I want to be that person!"

"No. It's not gonna happen," Kie shakes her head. God, this is brutal. I can't wait to tell JJ. "Do you understand what I'm saying? Like..." Kie sighs. "Look, I know that that's really hard to hear right now, but we don't have time for this, and this is a really bad place to do it." She pauses and Pope doesn't respond. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." He says, but his voice has completely changed. It's dark and cold and doesn't match my Pope's personality.

"Are you ready for the plan, or..."

"Yeah."

"Okay..." Kie says and this is when I decide to make my entrance. I can't help with the situation at hand but at least I can cause a distraction.

So I cough. "Sorry for the hold up. JJ and I were just fighting over who has to be look out. So..." I force myself to look between Pope and Kie as if I didn't just witness their whole conversation. I try not to focus on the tear streak down Pope's cheek and look at Kie. "Ready?"

Kie nods and leads us towards the Cameron's. A house I almost called my home.

Kie is in charge of getting to Sarah Cameron by her bedroom window while I stay with Pope and create a distraction. We decided it was best if one of us stayed with Pope so I offered myself, considering what I just watched.

Pope still seems to be upset. He's not exactly being quiet trying to stay hidden like we should be.

"Gotta stick to the plan," Pope mumbles to himself and plays with the grill. I find the closest pillow on their patio set and place it on top of it. "I like camels. I like Antartica."

"Pope..." I say softly. The last thing I want is to piss him off more but he's making me nervous.

He ignores me. "What's wrong with that plan?" He bends down and picks up a rubber duck in a paramedic costume and looks at it thoughtfully. "Same." I don't know exactly what that means but he throws the duck into the grill and finds the lighter fluid. When he saturates the pillow...and duck, he turns the grill on. The fluid quickly ignites and flames shoot out from the grill. Pope's head is close enough to the fire that his hat catches on fire. "Shit!"

"Holy shit," I throw my arm at his head and knock the hat off of him. I stomp on it until the flame dies under my sneakers and pull him behind the closest tree that can hide us both.

Less than a minute later, I hear two pairs of footsteps come out. I recognize Ward's voice as he curses at the destructed grill until he stops and mutters the name "Sarah" under his breath and makes a beeline back in side.

Taglist: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @moniamaybank @realistic-breadstick @urbinoutfiters @jeeperky @brebear121 @x-lulu @freddymaybank @jjpouggues @lemur46 @is-it-really-a-secret @kkmikayla @folkloverr @alexa-playafricabytoto @jjxrudy @migilini @stellarskys @rochyu @itsagurl @dazzlingnights

#jj maybank fic #outer banks rewrite #jj x oc

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