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myrandomfandomramblings · 3 years

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The Beach - a The Rookie/Chenford Fanfic

“7-Adam-11, show us responding,” Jackson said over the radio as Lucy leaned back against her headrest defeatedly.

“I didn’t think I’d ever say this but I really don’t want to go to the beach.” “Like ever again,” she added even as she took the first turn towards their destination.

LA was 4 days into a record heat wave and over that time Lucy had learnt a few important things 1) Unsurprisingly, extreme heat causes everyone to flock to the ocean. 2) It also makes people extremely irritable. 3) Lots of irritable people packed together in large groups leads to chaos and 4) wool uniforms are not ideal attire for patrolling beaches in temperatures around 100.

So after 4 days she was over it. She had spent Monday with Jackson getting sworn at, honked at and nearly run over as they directed traffic at the busiest beaches in the city. She spent Tuesday with Tim breaking up beach brawls, confiscating contributing alcohol and watching bikini clad woman flirt with Tim. At least 8 different woman had asked him to rub sunscreen on them or suggested he take off his shirt to cool down. She had rolled her eyes so much she had given herself a headache. Although it may have been the sun. Yesterday, her and Nolan and responded to a report of a missing child who was feared drowned or kidnapped but turned out had followed the music of an ice cream truck four blocks and was found, about 30 minutes after the officers arrived, happily eating a fudgiscle. However, they were kept at the beach for the remainder of their shift by various citizens with complaints ranging from seagulls, wasps and possible sharks to thieves, streakers and possible melanoma.

Now her and Jackson were headed back to a beach where the adjacent shrubbery was currently being consumed by a blazing bush fire, which was in all likelihood human caused and spreading fast. Therefore all hands were on deck as the LAPD worked with the LAFD to keep civilians safe, extinguish the fire and investigate its cause.

The rest of her shift passed in a blur as they interviewed witnesses, cordoned off the area, issued evacuation orders, ensured those who needed it got medical attention, joined a production line passing large buckets of water from the ocean to where the fire was burning and debriefed with their team which included Nolan and Tim, and Lopez and Harper. Luckily in the end, the fire was successfully extinguished, those living nearby were safe and happily back in their homes and the perpetrator, a cigarette butt flicker, was caught. But not until nearly 11pm by which time the entire team was exhausted, scorching and covered in soot and ash. With their job done the team of 6 headed away from the scene back along the beach to where they had parked their shops. They were right on the sand where they left them to create a barrier preventing people from wandering toward the fire and the beach around them was abandoned. Likely due to a combination of the late hour, the fire itself and the fact that the stretch of beach they were on was only accessible by walking about a mile from one of the main beaches on either side or by scrambling down the steep cliff behind them.

“Anybody want a cold one,” Nolan asked when they reached the vehicles, “well a hot one I guess” he amended as he pulled out a six pack he had confiscated earlier in the day from the trunk of his shop. Everybody made a face at the offer of hot beer but since the only light around came from the shops headlights shining in the opposite direction Nolan didn’t see them.

“Screw it, I’ll take one,” Angela said.

“Wesley and Patrice took the baby to meet the extended Evers clan so I have nowhere to be and now that I’m no longer breastfeeding I can have whatever I want. Even if that’s gross beer that’s been sitting in a hot car all day,” she explained.

“If we dig a hole near the water line it will fill with cold seawater and we can make a makeshift beer fridge,” Jackson suggested but Angela had already opened her can and was sipping away.

“I’ll help dig the hole,” Nyla offered. “I’d rather hangout here then go back to the station to do paperwork and Lila’s with her dad so I also have no where I have to be.”

“I’ll call Grey and tell him we’re clocking out and will do the paperwork in the morning,” Tim offered.

“Your staying?” Lucy asked a little too excitedly, “what about Kojo?” she quickly added.

“Tamara called several hours ago and offered to give him dinner, take him for a walk and put him to bed.”“She saw the fire on the news and rightly assumed we’d have our hands full,” he finished.

30 minutes later they all sat in the sand around their makeshift beer fridge. Shoes, socks and button up shirts discarded and pants pulled up to their knees. 3 flashlights were in the middle of the group, pointing skyward, their handles buried in the sand. They laughed as they went around and told stories.

“How is it still this hot?” Lucy asked a while later. It was after midnight and the temperature had yet to even consider dropping below 90.

She pulled her white t-shirt away from her skin fanning, herself.

“I’m going swimming,” she declared ready to stand up.

“Your going swimming? Right Now? In that?” Tim asked gesturing to her cotton tee and woolen pants.

Lucy shook her head. “I was just going to go in my underwear but now that I think about it I don’t really want to have to drive back to the station in soaking wet underwear.”

Tim nodded as if this is what he expected but Lucy didn’t see him and continued.

“I guess I’ll just skinny dip,” she concluded.

Tim managed to both spit out and choke on the sip of beer he had just taken.

Everybody else’s faces were turned towards Tim and wearing amused expressions but they were saved his annoyance due to the limited light and the fact that his attention was still fully on Lucy.

“What?” She asked Tim, “It’s not a big deal. It’s dark. Plus everybody here has already seen me naked.”

“Well except you,” she added, which earned another spit take from Tim.

Lucy rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. She loved seeing Tim flustered, especially when it was her doing.

“What?” He finally managed to ask in a strained voice after a few harsh coughs to clear his throat.

“Everybody here’s seen Lucy naked but you,” Lopez offered, “although that was bound to change sometime soon,” she added.

Lucy and Tim both turned to look at her wide eyed. Nolan and Nyla were both hiding smirks and Jackson wore an expression of mainly panic as he spoke.

“She’s drunk. She has no idea what she’s saying,” Jackson offered before turning to look daggers at Angela and whisper something in her ear.

Lucy thought she heard the words bet, interference and disqualified but she couldn’t be sure.

When he finished Angela addressed them again. “Sorry, apparently my tolerance took a nose dive since pre-pregnancy. I didn’t mean anything by that I got you mixed up with Smitty and what’s her face,” she finished waving her hand disparagingly.

“Hmm,” Lucy said clearly not buying her lame excuse but Tim still had his mind on other things.

“Why has everybody else here seen you naked?” he asked, his tone almost suspicious.

Lucy laughed. “Are you jealous?”

He fixed her with his best TO look. “No.”

Lucy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes yet again and answered.

“Communal showers at work,” she began gesturing to Nyla and Angela. “Best friends and roommates” she added pointing to Jackson. “Life gets crazy. Sometimes closing doors or throwing on clothes just isn’t a priority,” she explained seeing Tim’s confused expression. “Also we had to help each other into and out of the bath after we were injured.” She didn’t have to specify her kidnapping or the beating Jackson took to take down Doug Stanton. This group knew. “It’s kind of ironic that when everything hurts all you want is a warm bath but when everything hurts it’s nearly impossible to get yourself into and out of a bathtub,” she finishes. “Oh and Nolan and I used to date.” She says it as almost an afterthought, super casual. But all the former TOs still look at her with shock.

“You and Nolan?” Nyla asks with a laugh. “Really?” “No offense,” she adds addressing Nolan.

“Ah, none taken?” Nolan replies, clearly confused by her reaction.

“When?” Lopez asks looking between the two P2s.

“For a couple months while we were in the academy. We called it off shortly after we started at Mid-Wilshire,” Nolan supplied.

“Wow, I just can’t picture it,” Angela continued shaking her head.

“Why would you want to picture it?” Tim spat. Then seemed to catch himself and schooled his scowl back into a blank expression.

“Why’d you call it off, anyway?” Angela asked. Half actually curious. Half just trying to do her friend a solid and take the attention off him.

“Bishop warned me that dating a fellow cop would brand me and could ruin my career,” Lucy answered and thought she saw Tim flinch. It was impossible to tell for sure with just the flashlights, nevertheless she added, “Somethings matter more-“ she was staring right at Tim now “-are worth the gossip, the assumptions, the risk.” As she said it she saw his expression change but she couldn’t read it. “But our relationship wasn’t one of those things. We’re better as friends, anyway,” she finished addressing the whole group but looking at Nolan specifically for confirmation.

“Agreed,” Nolan nodded holding up his beer.

“To friends,” Jackson said clicking his to Nolan’s.

“To friends,” everybody joined in clinking their cans together.

“So who’s coming skinny dipping with me?” Lucy asked as she started to make her way back to the vehicles where she could leave her clothes in a place where they’d stay sand free.

“I will,” said Angela, “pregnancy and caring for a baby really makes modesty go out the window. The two beers I’ve had don’t hurt either.” She began to follow Lucy to the cars.

“I’m in,” Jackson offered, “with you two practically glowing in the dark nobody will even notice me.” He teased as he got up to join them, earning a playful shove from Lucy.

“Nobody’s here to see anything anyway.” She retorted.

“Go ahead. I might join you later.” Nolan said and Nyla and Tim nodded in agreement.

10 minutes later. Lucy, Angela and Jackson’s clothes were inside Jackson and Lucy’s shop and they were out in the ocean. It dropped off quickly so they weren’t that far away from the beach even though the water came to just below Lucy’s shoulders. After four days of blazing heat and the fire on top today, the cool water felt like heaven to her. She dipped and dove through the water, relishing the cool and wiped at her face and hands to remove the soot that had coated them earlier. Beside her Angela was trying to show Jackson what her son does when they put him in the water. This led to reminiscing about childhood summers spent at the beach or in backyard and community pools. And before they knew it they were playing old games from those days. John and Nyla had joined them by this time. Claiming some combination of escaping the heat, joining the fun and more beer as the motivation. They were currently having breath holding contests.

“I win!” Jackson exclaimed as he came up for air to find everyone else already up.

“You cheated,” Lucy argued, “I saw you come up while I was still under. I had my eyes open.”

“I did not. Plus it’s pitch black under there you couldn’t possibly have seen anything.”

“Did Jackson come up?” Lucy yelled at Tim who was still sitting on the shore.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t watching,” he replied casually with a slight shrug.

“Yes you were,” Angela argued, “you haven’t taken your eyes off Lucy since she got in here,” then realizing what she said she quickly ducked back under the water.

Everybody still above the surface froze.

Then after a beat. “So did he come up or not. I need to know if I won,” Nyla asked, all business.

“He floated to the surface but didn’t lift his head up. He won,” Tim offered defeatedly.

“Told you!” Jackson bragged.

“Rematch. 3,2,1 go,” shouted Nyla as everybody ducked back under the water. Lucy a split second behind everybody else as her attention was still on Tim.

She came up about 30 seconds later just as a wave was passing by her and managed to swallow a good serving of water. She coughed and sputtered but before she knew it Jackson and Nolan were beside her and she was assuring them she was Ok just needed a bit of time to catch her breath. As she swam towards the shore to rest in the shallows she noticed Tim was just sitting back down and his pants were wet to just above the knee. But she didn’t let herself focus on it.

She swam to just in front of where he sat laying on her stomach on the ocean floor, head just above the water.

“You OK?” He asked shifting his eyes to her for the first time since she swam up.

“Ya fine, just swallowed a little water,” she assured him.

“Looks like you guys are having fun out there,” he nodded indicating the group still farther out.

“Ya the water feels amazing. You can’t honestly tell me that you aren’t hot.” She had meant it literally. He was sitting in above 90 degree weather with wool pants on. But then she realized he had taken off his white shirt and his muscled chest and stomach were currently on full display and the word took on an entirely different meaning. She was thankful for the darkness as it hid her blush but even that couldn’t hide the fact that she was definitely staring.

“The ladies on the beach the other day will be so disappointed they’re missing this,” she teased gesturing to his bare upper half, hoping to give a probable explanation for the staring.

He gave a short laugh. “Not as disappointed as the meat bags who were wolf whistling at you will be that they’re missing that.” As he gestured at her he finally let himself actually take her in. Her hair was still up in its low work bun leaving her entire back exposed. The upper half of which was completely taken up by a tattoo, he had never seen before, although the light was too limited for him to make out the design. The rest of her body was hidden in shadows except her face which was now free of soot and make-up making her look young and vulnerable. Freckles brought out by the last few days of blazing sun were speckled across the bridge of her nose. Her mouth was twisted in thought and her eyes sparkled in the light of the flashlights. She really was beautiful.

While those thoughts flew through Tim’s mind Lucy was thinking about his comment about the wolf whistlers. That had happened at the very start of their shift and lasted no more than two seconds. Lucy wasn’t even sure they had been whistling at her and she had completely forgotten about it until Tim brought it up just now. Funny that he would remember.

They were both pulled out of their thoughts by a sudden commotion further out in the water:

“DID YOU NOT THERE IS NO PIE!”

“DO NOT THERE IS NO DIE!”

“DO OR DO NOT THERE IS NO TRY!”

Were being yelled over each other.

“What are they doing?” Tim asked looking at the group out in the water.

They were in a circle. Jackson had just given Nolan a high five then they were under again.

“I think they are playing the guess what I said under the water game,” Lucy chuckled.

Tim was about to reply but he was cut off by “How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood” being shouted in unison followed by bickering about who said it first.

“I’m going back out to join them. You going to come?” Lucy asked turning her attention from the group back to Tim.

“I don’t need to be a part of that.”

“Come on Tim. You’re hot and dirty.” She still meant it literally. Really. He was covered in soot. Stupid double entendres.

He raised is eyebrows.

“Just get in the water,” Lucy said splashing water at him to vent her frustration with how flustered she was getting.

He wiped the water from his face and a small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Fine.”

Lucy beamed back at him as he stood up and walked back to the shop to discard his remaining clothes then turned her attention back to her friends.

“It’s not Angeles Direct, you’ve already guessed that three times,” Nyla was saying to Jackson

“That’s what it sounds like,” he argued “and it’s definitely closer to that than ‘embroidery period.’”

“That was my first guess. I heard wrong,” Nyla shot back.

“Oh ya cuz ‘and was dressed’ and ‘indoors divest’ were so much closer.”

Any further argument was cut-off by Nolan. “I’ve got it: Angela’s the best,” he said confidently.

“Yes and yes,” Angela confirmed.

“Your turn Nyla.”

There was a brief silence as they all went back under the water followed by a flurry of screamed “this is stupid.”

“Happy now?” Came a quieter voice beside her and Lucy nearly jumped out of the water. She had been so wrapped up watching her friends she hadn’t even noticed that Tim had made his way back down the beach and was now sitting beside her in the water.

She smiled and nodded. “Aren’t you?”

He gave a non-committal shrug. “We’ll see after I get roped into whatever’s going on out there,” he offered but there was no bite to it. He was even smiling, although mostly with his eyes, as he looked at their friends.

“Well let’s go find out,” Lucy replied as she led the way into the deeper water.

As they approached the group they watched them go up and down and listened to their guesses.

“And further than game”

“Comforters at game”

“Temperatures endgame”

“Stanford is endgame”

“Checkers is a game.” “At least that’s a real sentence”

“Bradford has game?” “That can’t be right he most definitely doesn’t”

Then just as Tim and Lucy joined the group “Chenford is endgame!” Shouted by Angela who upon realizing Tim and Lucy had joined them turned to Jackson.

“This ones not on me it was your sentence.”

Jackson stood stunned for a second looking desperately between Tim, Lucy and Angela then swiftly closed his eyes and yelled “MARCO.”

There was a brief silence then Nolan yelled “POLO” and everyone was swimming away from Jackson at top speed. Everyone except Tim who was giving Lucy a look that said. “See what you got me into? I told you so.”

But she was busy swimming off with the others, grateful for the distraction. So he rolled his eyes and joined the game. The water did feel amazing although he wasn’t about to admit that to her.

Calls of MARCO POLO and laughter filled the air as everybody took their turn being it: Jackson tagged Nolan who tagged Lucy who tagged Nyla who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Nolan who tagged Angela who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Lucy. Well he meant to tag Lucy. He reached his arm out and jumped towards her “POLO” but she was closer than he thought and instead of the tips of his finger tagging her shoulder he jumped right into her. He hit her hard and she responded to being knocked off her feet and down into the water instinctively by reaching for the nearest thing to prevent drowning, which happened to be him. So when he opened his eyes her arms were around his neck and her legs around his hips and her face was only about an inch from his own as she coughed up water for the second time that day.

“Are you ok?” He asked moving a piece of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear.

She nodded but continued to cough as he absentmindedly stroked her back.

“You caught me by surprise,” she breathed “I didn’t know we were playing full contact Marco Polo.”

He let out a relieved laugh, “I’m sorry.”

“A real Tim Bradford apology I never thought I’d see it in person,” Lucy teased earning an eye roll from Tim. This close Lucy could see all the different shades of blue in his eyes even in the dark.

“It was an accident.”

“So it wasn’t some sort of Tim Test to see how I would handle a fight in the water?”

“No. You got your last Tim test a year ago when you stopped being my rookie.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year already,” she said. “Then again we’ve been through enough for an entire career,” she added as her hand reflexively moved from his neck where it was playing with his hair to the tattoo on her her ribs.

That’s when it dawned on her just how close her and Tim were, pressed together without a shred of clothing between them. She had felt so comfortable and content she hadn’t realized the gravity of the situation and what it could lead to. She was about to put some space between them when his hand covered hers over the tattoo marking her supposed day of death. The day he saved her from being buried alive. Although he would say it marked the first day of the rest of her life. The day she saved herself.

And the desire to move away died in an instant.

“I kept it,” she said quietly, “because of what you said.” “Because it’s a reminder that I’m a survivor. And that my team will always have my back.”

Tim was looking at her with an expression more open than she’d ever seen. “I have one of those,” he replied softly lifting her hand up and moving it to rest on his lower left abdomen. She was confused at first but as she felt the skin beneath her finger tips she realized it was scarred. The scar from when he was shot on her second day and she pulled him out of the line of gunfire.

She smiled and looked directly into his eyes.

“It’s a good thing we have each other in our lives,”

“Sure is,”

She was just about to lean in and close the distance between them when a voice interrupted.

“Hey you two. Keep it PG or get a room. This is a family outing.” It was Nyla.

Lucy laughed as she untangled her self from Tim and in that moment she realized two things. 1) this was most definitely her family and 2) she would very happily come back to the beach. Maybe next time she’d just bring Tim, maybe even as her boyfriend.

#the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #nyla harper #angela lopez #jackson west #john nolan

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peeterparkr · 4 years

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perfidy;tom holland|2

chapter 2: the movie scene

enemies to lovers au

story summary: Tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. However, you happened to be best friends with the twins. When one of your friends challenged you to break Tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. Old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

chapter summary: the first time you kissed and the last time he offered to kiss

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, flashback in italics, mentions of sex, fluffy-ish?, throwing up

word count: 5.5k

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

We never really want to give in to feelings when we are well aware they’re not reciprocated. It is dumb, and it makes us shy, and very very insecure. We all fear rejection coming our way, and rejection hurts our pride. It was a good thing that your feelings were only hatred. They were very much reciprocated.

Though people liked to point it out to you very often, and not so kindly. From hate to love there’s only one step.

You never really believed in that, but you knew that at least in your case, hate didn’t mean the absence of love. It never is, if we are honest.

But really, if you were honest to yourself, you did love Tom. In your own way, but you didn’t like him. Or stand him. Because everything he did annoyed you. And people loved to point out your certain reactions to whatever he did.

Sure, your cheeks got red, and you were flustered, but that was only the visible reactions to the headaches you’d get whenever he was around. Because he would always find his way to make you feel your worse, or prank you or ruin your big chances. Actions get reactions.

You were tired of him and you didn’t trust him, but you knew that if you ever needed help, and there was no one else who could help you, you could call him up. Yes, you loved him, in his own pathetic way, you'd grown up together, after all, and you knew every single detail about the other, which made things worse.

You grew behind his shade, and for a time, it didn’t matter but when he pointed it out, it did get on your nerves. Especially because he had been the one to get you to notice all your flaws.

And even if right now the feelings were mutual, you turned back to time when they weren’t. The first time he broke your heart, he had you wondering, all night long. An 8 year old already staring into the mirror and wondering what she had done wrong, wondering if she wasn’t pretty enough, had it been her hair? Was she just plain annoying? or if her voice wasn’t good enough or was it her personality?

Because you saw that he was always the one who everybody loved, so he had to know something about it. If he didn’t love you, or like you in that matter, he had to have a saying on it. Bullshit, he knew nothing.

You grew up, and now you knew it wasn’t your fault he didn’t like you. He was the one missing it.

However, you hated that he was always on the spotlight, and he’d be a big spoiled brat about it. Tom this, Tom that. It infuriated you that everything had to revolve around him, of course Mr. Big Shot was the star, and he had to brag about it. Especially around you. Your mother and big brother said it was only to get your attention.

“Please,” your brother James would say. “All straight men do is to be stupid enough around women so they’ll think, hey that’s incredible?”

Your brother’s theory relied on the fact that men are only stupid because they want women’s attention You know how straight men like to cannon ball at the pool parties? Yes, that’s because of you. You know how men like to shake beers and then down them as fast as they can? Yeah, that’s because of you.

You had a simpler theory, men are stupid by nature. Especially Tom, he was very stupid.

However, thanks to his constant seeking of attention, and the combination of his lack of intelligence, he’d often find himself acting pretty stupid around you. Thing which you absolutely loved. It gave you reasons to make fun of him.

Still, that loathing was deep inside you, and you knew that at any point, he could make you turn around and stab you right on your chest, never backstabbing, Tom wanted to make you well aware he was hurting you. You couldn’t trust him, because he made it very clear that he wasn’t your friend. He was a childhood close acquaintance.

Enemies. That’s it, that was the word. No need to sugar coat it. You had your history, and even though you could say that sometimes, like in that particular moment, you doubted your loathing was reciprocated, you knew he’d come back again with yet another way to prove to you he was a complete asshole.

So when you arrived at the building, and he got out of the car as well, you knew something was up.

“You don’t have to stay,” you reminded him. “I’ll take an Uber back home.”

“My mum invited you to lunch, and asked me to personally drive you, don’t read much into it,” Tom snapped.

“Oh, they’re still trying,” you rolled your eyes.

Tom chuckled. “Yeah, they believe we might get along if we keep having lunch together.”

“Why are we having lunch, though? Is there any special occasion?”

“Your interview,” Tom explained.

He followed after you into the building. You sceptically watched him.

“Well, but don’t you have better things to do?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I’d rather be here to help you, maybe I’ll even give you a pep talk.”

You clenched your jaw. “This is a big day for me, don’t ruin it.”

“I’m genuinely not trying to,” he chuckled. “I just happen to be very good at annoying you, sorry babe.”

“There’s a cafetería—“

“I know this place, sweetheart, remember I’m actually relevant in the film world.” He pushed you and walked past you.

“You know for being so relevant you’d think you’d be smarter. The cafeteria is upstairs, dickhead.”

He made his way into the elevator with you and watched you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I guess,” you admitted.

“Hey, um… I know it’s not the time but I really am sorry for last week,” he pushed.

“I don’t want to talk about it now, Tom.”

“I didn’t know that you had-”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” you repeated. You were barely recovering from it. And it hadn’t really been his fault. Except that he had so nicely done something you hadn’t quite loved.

You had just gone through a breakup about a month ago. Timmy. He had turned from being your everything to someone you’d rather forget now. A two-year relationship had just banished in front of you.

You wouldn’t have guessed he’d bring up Timmy over to you at Harry’s and Sam’s birthday dinner. You knew Timmy would be there, he was friends with most people there but having the audacity to walk in with another girl to your best friends party? Seemed sketchy.

You knew Tom didn’t know about the breakup, the last thing he had known was you guys were having problems.

“Oi, y/n look over there, that’s your boy, ain’t he? Why isn’t he here making out with you? Did he get tired of you?” Tom laughed as he walked over to you. “Wait, is he with another girl? Ooof, guess you guys are going to have another fight tonight, right?” He commented as you were just silently looking away. “Y/N, c’mon, that’s probably a friend, chill, hey, Timmo!” And he called out to him.

“Tom, please…”

“No, no, it’s alright, I’m saving you from having a fight, better have him around here! Timmy” He called out again.

And he had turned around and awkwardly waved.

“C’mon over, pretty boy,” Tom continued. “Don’t leave me with y/n.”

“Tom, don’t,” Harry Approached and warned him as he had noticed what Tom was doing.

Timmy never liked Tom. He said that Tom was unnecessarily rude to you, and he was right. Also, Timmy was one of those people who believed in the whole ‘from hate to love’ bullshit. He was sure that Tom and you would leave each other hot and bothered and that your hatred was only an excuse to hide away the real feelings towards each other. Timmy was often jealous of your relationship with any of the Hollands. ‘Tom is a big star, you could easily fall for him’.

Tim walked over anyway.

“Uh, hey guys,” he said awkwardly. “Hi, y/n.”

“Oi, what were you doing over there with a girl who’s not y/n?” Tom pushed. “That ain’t right mate,” Tom sounded drunk.

“Tom can you please stop?” Harry asked.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” Timmy said awkwardly. He looked over at you. “Hi.”

“What happened between you both? Did you finally break up? Wouldn’t blame you Timmy, I don’t really get why you’re dating y/n, for that matter, don’t you get tired of it?” Tom pushed.

“We’re actually on a break right now,” Timmy cleared up, angrily.

Tom’s eyes widened with shock. You didn’t want to explain anything, so you walked away.

The elevator door opened and suddenly a black-haired, blue-eyed and around your age, gorgeous man had walked in. You knew about him, he worked on another show, he was also a writer, a full time one. But you knew that he was probably only there so he could be cast, and you really wondered why they hadn’t yet. Someone as gorgeous as him needed to be on all the screens.

Yes, Joseph Holt. Of course, you knew about him, someone as perfect as him couldn’t go unnoticed. His charming smile and personality was only too much to ask for.

He grinned at you.

“Morning,” Joseph smiled and then proceeded to stare at Tom.

“Morning,” you greeted him.

He took two seconds to look at your outfit. It was neat, nice, professional, and probably better as to how he probably saw you, with bags around your eyes and multiple Starbucks cups on your hands.

“You’re y/n, right? I’ve seen you working at ‘Crooked Manners’,” he pointed out.

“Yes, and you’re Joseph, right?” You grinned. “You work at ‘A little bit of Heaven’ right? With Cassey?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he grinned and then gave a second glance to Tom. “You can call me Joe, though.”

Tom chuckled.

Joseph, Joe, turned around to see Tom. “I’m sorry, is there anything funny?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Tom grinned.

“So, you’re a writer, too?” Joe asked you.

“I am,” you closed your eyes. “Well, an assistant right now.”

Tom cleared his throat. You glared at him.

“Yes?” Joe asked.

“I’m just… I’m Tom.”

“Oh, so I did see right.” Joe nodded.

“Yeah, I’m Holland, Tom Holland,” he sassed.

“Calm down, 007,” you rolled your eyes.

“And I happen to be y/n’s boyfriend, very nice to meet you,” Tom grinned as he offered a hand to Joe.

Joe widened his eyes as he shook it. “Oh.”

“What?” You turned to Tom and nudged him. “No, no, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ah, alright, sorry, friendship with benefits, I’m sorry darling, I thought we’d agreed on not calling it that anymore,” Tom smirked and placed his hand on your waist. Confused and angry, you pushed him off of you.

“He’s… not, no, no, nothing of that, he’s just… I know him alright?” You tried to clear up, and Joe chuckled, as confused as you were.

“That’s… alright. Do you think I could get your number?” Joe asked as he handed you his phone. “Just so.. You know we could help each other with any writing?”

“Yeah yeah, for sure, and just to clear it out, he’s not my boyfriend or anything, alright?” You cleared out as you typed in your number.

The elevator door opened up again.

“It’s fine, I’ll catch with you later, Y/N,” Joe grinned. “And um, nice meeting you, Tom.” He said as the elevator closed.

“What the fuck was that?” You turned to Tom and slapped his elbow . “What is wrong with you?”

“Ouch!” He yelled, “I’m helping you get laid,” Tom laughed.

“You… you fucking are what now?”

“I just made you at least 45% more appealing to that guy,” Tom laughed. “Please, he wouldn’t turn your way unless he knows that someone like me slept with you.”

“You’re a dickhead,” you stated.

“You know I’m right, and by your attitude lately I can actually assure you, you haven’t got any in awhile,” he noted. “I’m just trying to help you get someone to...how did he call it? write with.”

“I can handle that myself,” you snapped. “This isn’t any of your business.”

“Hm but it could be,” He smirked.

“Besides I don’t want him thinking I’d got any weird fungus down there from sleeping with you.”

Tom cackled, rolling his eyes. “You wish you had them.”

“So you admit you’ve got them?” You asked with a smirk as the door finally opened.

“I don’t--”

You got to your floor where your friends were waiting for you and were rather surprised when they saw who was behind you.

“Y/N!” Charlie called as he waved at you. He smirked. “Girl”

You stopped abruptly and turned to Tom. “The coffee is over there, I’m sure you can find your way around here, just follow the signs.”

“Ah, don’t you want me around your friends?”

“Now why would I want such a tragedy?”

He scoffed. “Fine, break a leg.”

You smiled. “Thanks, even though it’s not theatre.”

“I’m well aware of that,” he smirked and then turned around off to the cafeteria.

You made your way to your friends, also interns at the studio. Charles, who would often say his name was too absurd and proper for his personality was smirking at you proudly, while Danielle, your clumsy and rather quiet friend was rather interested in seeing Tom.

Charlie smirked and hummed. “I see, I see, strutting around with a little help, hmm classy girl, show off you’ve got pulls.”

You rolled your eyes. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Why didn’t he come and say hello?” Danielle asked with hope.

“He drove me here, and I don’t want you guys to deal with his bullshit,” you explained.

“Hmh,” Charlie stared at Tom. “Hmhm hun, I know you hate him, but homeboy is looking fine this morning.”

You raised a brow and turned around to look at him. “He’s wearing a black t-shirt,” you raised a brow. “What’s the hype about it?”

“Hm, I’m just saying I’d love to take it off,” Charlie sassed.

You rolled your eyes and turned to face your friends. “I really don’t see why you find him attractive, all his looks are erased by his personality.”

“So you do admit he’s got looks,” Charlie smirked. “I’m telling you girl, you secretly got the hots for him, and boy, I ain’t gonna blame you.”

Danielle grinned but then instantly blushed as she saw who was walking behind you.

“I forgot to ask,” Tom said, making you jump. He chuckled.

“What?” You frowned.

“I was going to ask if you wanted me to buy you anything, and I forgot I had brought you this,” Tom offered you a Lion Candy Bar. You raised your brows. “ But if you don’t want anything else… Or maybe your friends….”

“Hi!” Danielle grinned.

Joey grinned. “Hello.”

“We’re fine,” you said before your friends could keep on talking as you looked down at the chocolate “You’re being nice, what’s up?”

He grinned. “I know it’s a big day for you, I ain’t trying to mess it up and I know for a fact those are your favourites.”

“Or maybe you are, trying to freak me out by being nice,” you shrugged. “I know your games, Thomas.”

He chuckled. “Look, I just really want you to do well.”

“Thanks, now I’ll do better if you’re not around, you get me on my nerves” you pushed. “Bye.”

“I’m serious y/n, I know they’ll love you and your color-coded notes,” he chuckled. “Plus you’ve got good orthography.”

“Ah, sure that’s what they're looking for in a writer,” you laughed. “Now, please, Tom, I need to check important stuff.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” Tom grinned. “But you should loosen up a little, unless all writers look like constipated bitches.”

“Ah, original, a constipation insult, I see, you’ve learned no other insult in these last years, good to know I have to speak to you as if you were a thirteen year old boy.”

He clenched his jaw and watched you, as if he had just been challenged. “That's no way of talking to your boyfriend, darling.” Tom had placed his hands on your waist as you took them off, calmed but stiff.

“Leave,” you ordered him again.

He smirked as he stepped in closer. “How about a good luck kiss?”

You crossed your arms, and watched him judging. “Leave, Tom.”

“Such a shame, we don’t kiss that often anymore,” Tom laughed.

“We’ve never kissed,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’ve got proof we have,” he snickered and then proceeded to walk off. “Good luck, babe.”

You rolled your eyes. “I hate him.”

Charlie smirked. “You’ve kissed.”

“That’s absolutely none of your business,” you said. “Now can we please focus on…. I have an interview in an hour.”

“Darling, you’ve got some explaining to do first,” Charlie laughed. “Boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes as you headed to the small cubicle the three of you shared.

“We bumped into Joe Holt,” you explained. “And Tom said we were a couple in front of him saying that if Joe believed that Tom was dating or sleeping with me it would make me 45% more attractive.”

Danielle grinned. “Joe Holt and Tom Holland?”

“Oh god, Danielle, get a grip,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, and did Mr. Holt talk to you?” Charlie wiggled his eyebrows.

“Asked me for my number and everything,” you said proudly. “Which… Oh god. I mean it could mean nothing but…”

“Girl, you’re on fire,” Charlie chuckled. “Though he’s just another white boy.”

You laughed. “He’s still attractive.”

“But are you ready to date?” Danielle asked.

“Oh my god, Dan, he asked her for her number, not to suck his dick,” Charlie implied, making both you and Danielle giggle awkwardly.

“But she knows what I mean!” Danielle laughed. “Just a week ago we had her crying and listening to Taylor Songs.”

“Yeah, and weren’t you seeing Timmy tomorrow?” Asked Charlie condescendingly.

“Look, I’m…I’m ready to move on, you know?” You admitted. “We talked about a break that would last for a month and we’ll see how that goes, alright?”

“I’m not trying to steal your thunder but I myself got a date tonight, so, I’m just gonna pop that in,” Charlie giggled.

“Nice,” you smirked.

“But alright, are you ready for the interview?” Dannielle asked.

Danielle, Charlie and you were kind of the golden trio of the interns, you’ve known them since college. Not a big friendship back then but when the three of you met here, a sort of friendship started.

“It’s not really an interview, you know that right?” Charlie said. “I mean, they’ll probs just tell you you’re already hired, although I heard a word that they’re working on a new series and they might get you there.”

“A new series?” You asked.

He chuckled. “You didn’t hear it from me, but the word says that they’re asking some interns to come up with a story and then...they might have their big breakout.”

“Hm,” you shrugged as you placed the chocolate on the table.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Questioned Danielle.

“Tom gave this to me,” you barked as if it was so obvious.

Charlie smirked as he side eyed Danielle. “When is all this going to end?”

“When is what going to end?” You frowned.

“Please,” Charlie grinned as he leaned over. “We both know you don’t hate him.”

“I do.”

“But you care for him,” Danielle pushed.

“Hatred isn’t the absence of love, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “Hatred means according to the dictionaries, intense dislike.”

“So you love him?” Danielle asked with confusion.

“Ugh, yes because they grew up together,” Charlie explained. “Gosh, Dan, do you never listen?”

“Look, I can’t stand him,” you explained. “I just really think he’s very annoying, and I’m right, he is annoying and he can’t stand me either. We’re good with that relationship.”

“Have you kissed though?”

You scofffed. “Look, maybe once when we were teens? And…” You took a deep breath. “It meant nothing, you know? It really does mean nothing, but he likes to point it out every now and then.”

“Why?”

“Look,” you closed your eyes and gulped. “He… he was kind of,” you sighed. “We were at a party”

“Oh, seven minutes in heaven?” Charlie took a sip of his coffee. “Damn.”

“Yes, but it was stupid, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “I was… 17 and I was sad because my crush was there with another girl and I wanted to make him feel jealous” You felt weird only speaking about it. “And I told him.”

“Did you ask him to kiss you?”

“Look, I was very stupid and I kind of used to have a on and off crush on him and he was already an actor” you blushed. “Look, I was very stupid I was kinda drunk, too.”

“You still kissed fucking Spiderman?” Danielle chirped.

“But it’s no big deal,” you sighed. “Now, we hate each other and haven’t kissed since, alright?”

Though, it wasn’t true. Not really. You did think of it as a deal, not a big one, but a deal. Because also, the second statement wasn’t true. Tom and you had kissed each other, three times. Only one had meant something, the first one. The other two you blamed on the heartbrakes and one on alcohol and stupidity, they didn’t mean anything. Besides, after those two, things really didn’t go well. Only the first time you ever kissed was important to you both.

But the first one, you remembered it perfectly. But it wasn’t the time to think of it, right now.

“You know I’ve got a theory,” Charlie grinned.

“Everyone does,” you rolled your eyes. “Now if you don’t mind I need to focus.”

It bothered you how every single person would try and chirp in your relationship with Tom. There was no deep meaning behind it, just two people who enjoyed annoying each other and who hated each other’s company. That was it. Even you could joke about it with Tom, just like the lunch you’d be having later, it probably being the latest attempt your mother and his had to make you guys get along. They’d make you sit down together and often leave you alone, which only ended up insulting or you guys completely ignoring each other. It was annoying.

“I have a theory,” Charlie sang anyway. “That if you guys slept with each other all of this would be gone, all your said hatred,” Charlie grinned.

“That ain’t true, and I’d never sleep with him.”

“I’m sure all of this is from the sexual tension you’ve developed all over the years,” Charlie continued.

“Sexual tension?” You laughed. “He literally called me a constipated bitch, you… you call that sexual tension?”

“Straight men are weird,” Charlie shrugged. “And please, I’ve seen how he acts around you, he’s just like a damn child all smittened with you.”

“Yes, he does check you out from time to time,” Danielle admitted.

“Only to see what he can point out and make a shitty comment from it,” you rolled your eyes. “Look, it’s not gonna happen.”

“I’m just saying that you’d get along if you were both sweating against each other, and grinding and-”

“Gross,” You interrupted him. “The only thing you’ve got right is he’s a child.”

“Besides, I can bet you that if you were to ask him to have sex with you, he’d say yes without thinking about it.”

“Why would I ask him that?” You scolded.

Danielle laughed. “Because you also secretly have a crush on him.”

You watched them with disbelief. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Look, maybe not from you but I can assure you that Tom desires you,” Charlie grinned.

“Oh god, guys this isn’t a Sandra Bullocks movie, just shut up.” You sat down and opened up your computer to try and focus on the interview you’d have.

“Didn’t Timmy say that?” Danielle asked.

“Oh, yes, that he was sure Tom did everything he did to impress you and take you away form him,” he laughed.

“If we’re honest, Timmy thought that of any man, even of you, Charles,” you mocked with a gentle giggle.

“Besides y/n you need a rebound,” Danielle insisted.

“Tom would be a hell of a rebound,” Charlie admitted. “Oof, I bet he’s great at the aftercare.”

“Yes,” Danielle agreed. “And I think that he’s not into weird things, you know?”

“Or like, good weird, you get what I’m saying?”

You watched them annoyed. “Oh my god, guys, you are taking as if that was actually going to happen,” you shook your head.

“Look, go ahead, ask him to have sex with you,” Charlie insisted as you watched him unbothered. “Please it’d take you less than ten minutes to get you to let you fuck him.”

“Oh, and they would like fall in love with each other,” Danielle said.

“What?” Charles laughed. “Girl, no I’m just trynna get her laid.”

“But wouldn’t it be romantic? A whole enemies to lovers story?” Danielle continued.

“Maybe he’d fall in love, not me,” you said. “I could easily make him fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch a feeling.”

“Oh, will you, now? Wanna bet?” Charlie grinned.

“I’m not having this conversation, I’d rather go back to him,” you admitted as you walked off with your computer back to where Tom was, so peacefully sitting down scrolling on his phone as he was biting on half a sandwich.

He looked up at you, and you were probably blushing. It felt weird walking back to a man whom your friends had just suggested you should sleep with.

“Hi, they’re bothering me, I can’t concentrate and I’m going to go through a breakdown if I don’t- I’m not gonna bother you alright, I just need to calm down before everything.” And you were being honest with him, and you knew he understood.

He was a jerk, but not that big of a jerk.

“Yeah, no, it’s alright, sit down,” he shrugged as he offered you a seat.

Somehow you felt calm, because he noticed you needed that.

You sat down and didn’t even look at him, although you were fighting the urge not to.But your mind was actually thinking of him, not of the past conversation, no but your first kiss together, your first kiss ever. One which wasn’t on camera.

And the time came, and you were at your interview trying your best to listen and answer perfectly, but your mind went back to that first kiss and your mind went back to the conversation you had with your friends.

But it came to the kiss, that kiss. One which you knew you shared a secret of. It had been all you could expect from a first kiss, sweet and clumsy and very quick, a small peck on the lips he’d given you. And although, it had been weird.

You remembered it, Tom had noticed you were down and not even coming up with comebacks. You were tired, your friend Fabiola, the only one of your friends who remained with virgin lips had given her first kiss, with that kid Aaron with the red backpack.

So you remained to be the only one of your friends without a first kiss. There you were, a pathetic kid who was too busy writing stories and filming videos with younger kids that you had forgotten to have a first kiss.

You were watching as Tom was playing video games and you hadn’t once asked for the controller. It was one of his free days he had from Billy Elliot, and you weren’t sure why he had invited you.

“Okay, what’s up?” Tom asked, pausing the game.

You didn’t even look at him.

“Y/N, why aren’t you playing?” He pushed

You looked down at your pink chipped nails. “Am I ugly?”

“Yes, next question.”

You sighed. “Tom, I’m serious.”

“I am, too, what’s the deal?” He frowned and then started the game again.

“All my friends have given their first kiss,” you bit your lip. “And I haven’t. Is it because I’m ugly?”

“Well, do you have anyone you could kiss?”

“Well, not really.” You frowned.

He shrugged. “Then you’re ugly and alone.”

You frowned. “Have you had your first kiss?”

“I’ve had girlfriends, y/n.”

“See? You’re ugly and you’ve had your first kiss, it must be something else.”

“Your personality is ugly, too,” he pointed out. “Seems like you’re not gonna have a first kiss, ever.”

“Well I must, someday, don’t you think?”

Tom shrugged.

“Would I be that bad of an option for a kiss?” You asked sincerely.

He paused the game, and coughed. “I mean.”

You raised your brows. “What?”

“Not really.”

“Who was your first kiss? Angela?” You asked, knowing he had a crush on her. “Or another girlfriend?”

“I haven’t kissed anyone,” He admitted. “It’s… scary, you know?”

“How so?”

“I don’t know how to do it.” He blushed. “I...I get nervous just thinking about it.”

“Please, how difficult can it be? You just place your lips together,” you pointed out.

Tom frowned. “What do you know? You’ve never kissed anyone.”

“But I’ve seen movies,” you pointed out. “Look, let’s… watch a movie and maybe you can learn.”

Tom wrinkled his nose. “I’m not watching a movie, y/n, I know how it’s supposed to go.”

“Then why haven’t you done it?”

He frowned. “I dunno.”

You both stayed on the couch with your arms crossed. It seemed like you both knew the answer to your problem but neither of you wanted to address it. You stayed quiet, for a long time, on the edges of the couch, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you think we should-?” Tom asked.

“No.”

“Why not?” Tom frowned.

“Would you?”

“I-No, no.”

“Well,” you gulped. “Or….? Would you kiss me?”

“No…” Tom paused. “Not here on the couch.”

You stayed quiet again.

“I mean,” Tom intruded. “We could go outside.”

“Outside?” You looked at him. “Really?”

“But it would mean nothing, right?” He coughed. “Just so we can say we’ve kissed someone.”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

You both ran to the backyard where you were both sweating nervously. He watched you.

“We can’t tell anyone,” he said.

“No, no, we won’t,” you agreed, nodding quickly.

He took a deep breath watching you.

“Well, get it done already!” You chirped nervously.

He leaned over but giggled and backed away.

You laughed with him. “What?”

“I dunno, what if I ruin it?” Tom asked.

“I wouldn’t know this is my first kiss, too!” You said, nervously. You were getting butterflies in your stomach and you were sure your cheeks were getting red. Tom was made a tomato and he was shaking.

“Okay,” he gulped. “Uh.”

“Wait, but, in movies, the guy… usually holds the girl’s face,” you explained.

He nodded. “Right.”

“And the girl…” You were sure your stomach was going to explode. “Usually has her hand on his neck.”

And before you knew it, you were holding each other.

Tom gulped as he stared at you and you could see each and every freckle on his face.

“Okay, close--close your eyes,” he said as he cupped your face.

You did, and before you could think of it, Tom had placed his lips on yours, and you had pressed yours against his. 5 seconds, that’s how long it had lasted before you both pulled away and pushed each other away.

And you had gotten nervous enough, enough to even get you to run to the bathroom and throw up.

Just like you were about to throw up now.

“So I’m very glad, y/n, you’re very talnted and we’d like to offer a place in here, however, well you might have heard of this, but we’re looking for a fresh new story, we’re talking about giving you a big shot, write a story based on a personal experience, you see the idea of the new series is to make it as human as possible so we’re asking all of you, if we can work on it.”

“Oh, I didn’t know about it,” you lied. “That sounds interesting.”

“Well, it’s anything really, but alright, do you have any ideas to pitch in?” Your boss, Alessandra, asked.

“Right now?”

“Yes, anything. Let’s see that creative side of yours, I’m not telling you to give me the whole story, maybe just a prompt from your life.”

“Hm,” you bit your lip. “I... well, I’ll.... do something about childhood enemies to lovers, maybe.”

“Hm, a classic, happened to you? Did you fall in love with your childhood enemy?”

“I... well,” you cleared your throat. “Not really,” you squeezed your eyes. You were very nervous. “I mean, I’m kind of... trying to make that happen.” You were speaking without even thinking about it.

“Oh, how so?” She raised her brow.

“Well, I was trying to prove to a friend that I could make my enemy fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch any feelings.”

Alessandra smirked. “I love that, work on it, do it, keep a journal of it, write it, make it entertaining and tell me the results, ooh, I really like that, ”Alessandra grinned as she looked up. She often did that when writing as if she was seeing the picture in her head. “It’d need to have a catchy name... But sounds promising.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, it can involve drama, love, humour, it’s perfect, we’ll see, and it’s the best way to hurt an enemy, so chop chop, go do it, I trust you, and we’ll see you in a month, keep a journal of it, remember, thank you y/n.”

You thanked her and did the exact same thing you’d done after giving your first kiss. You ran to the bathroom and threw up.

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ink-vax · 4 years

Note

BEN headcanons plssssss

Ya home boi has freakles

And a blue tint to his skin.

Ben has glasses (you can pry this off of my cold dead hands) and tends to wear them in his room or at night. Because let's face it. Being locked in your room at night hunched over either a game or a computer messing with people it can ruin your vision. (Not alot of the pastas know he even has glasses. Only a select few).

Ben is hella short. Like Link is 5'5 Ben is 5 foot.

He does play video games and such, but just ask Jeff, he also loves his fair bit of DnD and card games. But it tends to be video games mostly.

Childish and cold. Not really sarcastic but acts childish due to not really having a childhood.

Even though hes a ghost of sorts, he does eat to have more energy in his body.

He has a bad habit of eating a shit ton of junk food for like 2 days straight. Then goes maybe one or two weeks without touching a single thing to eat. It's a bad habit of his, hes tried to stop. But it anit working out. You can see when hes not eating due to how low he floats, or how tired his eyes look.

Childish as hell okay. Especially when messing with his victim, hell play into what hes found out about them. Making them think it's some hacker that got into their stuff. But uses that to drive them insane from paranoia. Sometimes if hes having so much fun, hell kill them with his own hands.

Yeah, he plays Video games but that's not all he does. Hes quite good at hacking and getting info on every single thing his victims have done to use it against them.

He gets really scary if you do make him mad. It's kinda hard to make him mad, but when you do. .....RIP buddy.

He has a replica of Majoras mask on his wall, he likes to wear it around Halloween, and a real replica of the master sword hung above his door.

He does have a fear of water. But hes okay being in water that goes below his knees and is okay with showers. But a full bath of water. Lakes, pools that goes deeper then his knees, he cannot function with it. (Fun fact, how some of the pastas found out how far him being okay with bodies of water whent. ..let's just say, the poor soul who tried to pull him to slightly deeper water had thick, deep scratch Mark's on their arms and chest from the poor boy kicking and panicking.

Other than his death..he has no recollection of anything of his past.

The dude is a meme lord.

He does have a slight hard time with his emotions, but you can 'kinda' tell when hes not in the mood.

He prefers cats, but doesnt mind Smile.

He can get along with Tim (not masky), if hes not acting all that childish, witch he can do if he needs to be taken seriously, after all he is the one who can hack into everything and leak personal info at will of any of the other pastas.

He mostly is lay back.

He does still wear his link outfit, but he switches it up with Zelda themed outfits or just the eboy style (cause let's face it. It fits)

His ears are pointed, and kinda flicker depending on his mood,

He can fight with a sword. (But prefers not to)

He has one of the messiest rooms. Not by having clothing or dishes everywhere. He just has video game cases out. Wires and cords (witch can and will stress Jeff out if hes in there for to long.)

Ben loves to listen to music, alternative style (like Emo bands. And TOP is considered an alternative music band, some of his favorites are MCR. P!ATD. and falling in reverse) and soundtracks for games are some of his favorites.

I ain't even getting into his mental health (I am). He suffers PTSD, anxiety and depression (with a bit of insomnia to sprinkle in) with a feeling of being lost to a void of such.

Because of this, he can go days without sleeping if his mental state is fucked up. But he knows how to get it stable easily. He actually has very good coping abilities.

The bitch can also take the cable of one of the remotes and use it to choke you out if hes fighting you physically.

(Even though he doesnt like getting his hands dirty. Unless you've pissed him off. Witch is hard to do)

Ben is envious of Jeff and Lius relationship, cause hes never had a sibling before. That he remembers. So he is kinda envious of them.

He has a thing where if your trying to be friends with him (and hes deemed you worthy) ..you have to kinda respond back to texts if he sends you them. Because he cant just trust any old person, and if they cant try and communicate with you then theres no point on trying to be your friend.

He does have a hard time talking about his emotions

Him and Jeff have a weird friendship, but it's a good one

(A small list of some recurring ideas I have for Ben. There weird I know.)

(..and a few were self progected onto him. But what can ya do.)

#my words #my headcannons #ben drowned creepypasta #ben drowned #ben #Ben drowned #Ben Drowned #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #long post

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redhoodieone · 5 years

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I’ve Got You

A/N: This is a special one shot to a good friend on here @thatartkid101! I hope you love this, and I hope everything works out. You’re beautiful, strong, and don’t let anyone put you down! You’re amazing!

Warnings: Language

Words were never important to me before. I’ve never really given them much thought, but I suppose it’s because we speak every day in our lives. Whether we speak loudly, softly, to ourselves, or just reading and thinking. Words are often used a lot, which could make the words lose or overuse their meanings.

Such as “I love you” or “I’m sorry.”

I can’t even remember the last time I meant any of those words. It almost becomes a common habit; just saying it because you know it’s right, not because you actually mean it.

Which could explain why people around me always double check with what I say.

I guess I’ve never sound so confident and sure when I speak.

Bruce had invited me along with him, the Batboys, and Alfred out to dinner at one of his restaurants in Gotham. I, of course, accepted even though I always feel weird and uncomfortable going out with them since they’re practically handsome and popular celebrities, while I’m just an average girl.

I met the Batfamily one horrifying night about two years ago. I was nineteen years old and going through an awful time with my high school boyfriend, Rob. I was with Rob throughout high school, and after we graduated, we kept dating while I was attending G.C.U as he worked with his father and uncles at his father’s auto garage.

Our relationship had been good up until a point where Rob wanted me to quit school and become a “stay-at-home-wife-and-mother”. I sometimes wondered if Rob was jealous of the fact that I had a separate life during the daytime, while the two of us only have the evenings and nights. I even came out of my shell (I’ve been told I’ve been a hermit crab for most of my life), and even made new friends; particularly Tim Drake.

We had some of the same classes, except for math and science classes because Tim’s practically a genius. So, the only classes we shared were English, history, and even computer classes. In a way, Tim became my friend after tutoring me for tests while I became a friendly face when he needed someone to joke and talk to during study hours.

Our friendship blossomed within the seven months we met. I even met his father, Bruce Wayne, his trustworthy, sassy butler Alfred Pennyworth, and his brothers Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Damian Wayne. While all of them welcomed me into their home and accepted me as a friend of Tim’s, I realized I was suddenly struck by lightning to one of his brothers.

Jason Todd.

Jason fucking Todd.

I didn’t know what initially drew me to him; like a moth to a flame. Jason is obviously handsome, but what most people didn’t know was just how sensitive, insecure, funny, and caring he truly is. Jason has made it perfectly clear on more than one occasion that he loves his family no matter what (even if they piss him off…and I’ve seen that firsthand), he takes crimefighting more seriously now, and he’s matured a lot since fixing his relationship with Bruce.

It’s like Jason had changed for the better, even if I didn’t know him back then.

But of course, Dick insists Jason is still the same in some ways.

Like how Jason is still a tall, muscular teddy bear at heart (his hugs prove it, since I’ve been lucky enough to receive fifteen within three months), how he laughs and snorts when something is very funny, and especially when he flirts with women he adores.

Ah…the flirting.

I knew I had a boyfriend. I was faithful, and I’ve never done anything wrong to give anyone a reason to not trust me.

But Jason flirting with me on a few occasions just showed how much I was attracted to him. The warm, teddy bear hugs, the innocent cuddling on the couch during movie nights, and how he would look deep into my eyes whenever we had serious or light conversations deep into the early mornings.

And the one night we could have kissed.

Jason had offered and drove me back to my apartment late one night. I had a test the next morning, and I was too tired to drive home since Tim had tutored me for our final exam in English. Jason had been a gentleman and walked me to my door, too. The second I unlocked the front door; I turned to face him and thank him for the drive home.

And then our faces inched closer and closer until I could feel his hot breath above me. Jason had smelled like Old Spice deodorant, and a cologne I couldn’t identify. His breath smelled like the whiskey shot he downed with Tim and I when we finished studying. His ocean blue eyes were hypnotizing, and were so full of lust, warmth, and care.

I found myself leaning in more. Our lips were very close, and my heart was pounding in my chest, as if I could die from a heart attack right then and there. My hands had a mind of their own, and I soon found myself gripping his brown leather jacket and pulled him towards me; until I woke up from the lust and magnetic force shield, I was currently trapped in.

The moment I pulled away and let him go, Jason appeared hurt and confused. But he knew why it couldn’t have happened, even if we both wanted it.

Because I tried hard to stay faithful, even if my heart and body were telling me otherwise.

And of course, I had stayed faithful.

Rob didn’t.

Catching Rob in bed with a female receptionist at his dad’s garage was beyond hatred and betrayal. It was evil; pure, ugly, and sickening evil.

I clearly told Rob we were done; broken up and just finished forever. I tried very hard to stay strong, and I left his apartment with hope that I could just leave and cry privately. But that’s too easy, isn’t it?

Rob eventually caught up with me when I managed to walk a good mile away. He was yelling at me and shoving me against the wall and accused me of cheating on him first: with Tim Drake. I tried to explain to him we were just good friends, and that I didn’t cheat on him. I wanted to tell him I wanted to, but it didn’t seem like a good idea. But Rob’s anger was far from over, and he was now shouting in my face and threatened to ruin me for any new guys that would come around me.

Rob’s threat didn’t fall on deaf ears.

Red Hood landed down beside us. Twirling his gun around his fingers, he approached us and looked more intimidating than anything I’ve ever seen before.

“Wow…you’re a real douchebag,” Red Hood said, his voice is full of rage and violence. After the gun stops spinning in his fingers, he holds it up to Rob’s head. “And here I thought I was…but hey, I guess maybe I’ve grown up and learned yelling and threatening pretty ladies is just a fucking asshole thing to do.”

Rob twisted his face around to face Red Hood. He’s clearly pissed off at Red Hood for interrupting our fight.

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, okay Dildo Head?! This bitch is my problem, and I’m not leaving until I teach her some manners!” Rob snaps harshly.

“It’s one thing to call my helmet a “dildo head”, but when you disrespect women…now that’s crossing the fucking line, you dipshit!”

Red Hood beat the shit out of Rob, but that didn’t mean Rob went down easily without a fight. While Red Hood had the strength, stamina, and moves, Rob did manage to knock Red Hood’s helmet off.

And it happened to be the one-time Red Hood forgot to wear his domino mask.

Jason Todd.

Rob was thankfully knocked out and didn’t see Jason’s face, but I did. After Jason got up and fixed himself up, he knew his secret was out.

And then I eventually learned all their secret identities. I even became a part of their social and private lifestyles…including sometimes Batfamily meetings and helping with cases or whatever they needed.

But after all of that, I’m in a better place to where I don’t mind getting back into the “dating game”, but the fear of being rejected and cheated on still plagues me from time to time. It also didn’t help that the media and paparazzi insisted I was dating Tim and Jason on different occasions. The rumors were worse. I was considered a “family whore” and that I was trying to sleep with Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim.

Luckily not Damian or Alfred. But Alfred’s too precious for me, anyways.

Bruce, Dick, and Tim never paid much attention to the rumors or paparazzi. While they understood how I felt, they dismissed and corrected the rumors as much as they could. But Jason appeared not to care about the rumors, either. In fact, he loved putting on a show as much as he could.

Jason would hold my hand from leaving the limo and entering the building. He then would hold my waist and walk me back to the limo and made sure to wink and wave at the cameras. Jason had even taken it too far once when he kissed me.

A quick peck on the lips. But it’s still a kiss!

We never spoke about it or brought it up again. I wonder if Jason even remembers the kiss.

Once we arrive at Bruce’s restaurant, he leads us from the limo and into the restaurant. He smiles and is polite to everyone and expects us to do the same, in which we all do. Dick, Tim, Damian, and Alfred follow Bruce while Jason and I lag behind, because Jason wanted to hold my hand and bring me closer to his body so the cameras can get good shots of us. While I think we’re in the clear from paparazzi and reporters’ questions, one man decided to ask me a personal question.

“Y/N! Is it true you were in a gangbang after high school?!”

I immediately freeze up. It’s like the air was knocked out of me. Every muscle, breath, and cell inside me stopped working.

Jason had stopped alongside me as well. His hand remained on my lower back, while I moved to the man who asked me that question.

“What did you just say?” I repeat, not even aware I’m sounding like I’m losing my mind.

“You didn’t know? Your picture was leaked online. It’s everywhere, babe!” the man declares.

The man then gives me his cell phone. The second my eyes land on the picture, I tense up. There am I, passed out drunk from a party that Rob was throwing after high school. I’m passed out on a bed, wearing short shorts and a pink bikini top. Rob’s friends, Chris, Jake, and Vince are around me, clearly intoxicated like me. Touching me, kissing me, and passing me back and forth between them.

The picture was taken by Rob’s ex-girlfriend Lily, who clearly and obviously wanted Rob back. The picture nearly destroyed our relationship. My parents were even disappointed in me, and scolded me for being so reckless and drunk, but they eventually forgave me. I even told Rob I was drunk, and that his friends were the ones who were taking advantage of me when I was passed out.

Rob didn’t believe it at first, but then we never spoke of the picture again.

But now it looks like Rob wants to ruin any future relationships for me. This picture is the end of me.

The man takes back his cell phone and laughs at me. “At least you learned that pictures never die or disappear from the web, Y/N. Once you fuck up, you’ll be reminded that you fucked up for the rest of your life. Now, can I get a quote?” he asks seriously.

“Fuck you!” I snap.

“Nah, I’m not into gangbangs like you. Maybe you can ask Bruce Wayne and his sons to join you? My God, would you really do that? You must really be a slut!”

Jason steps in front of me and glares down at the shorter man. “Back. The. Fuck. Off.” Jason threatens angrily.

“Damn…you work fast, Y/N? So, what’s next: are you going to fuck the Luthor or Queen family next?!”

I rip my arm from Jason’s grasp, and I run away from the crowd and restaurant. I had to stop after a block to remove my heels, and then I was back to running away.

No matter how far I run. No matter how hard I try to hide my tears. I was broken.

I finally stop running once I realize I made it all the way to the pier. I remember the pier from when Dick showed me where he almost killed his parents’ killer. Walking slowly and barefoot, I make it to the rail where I take a seat and allow my legs to dangle above the water. My arms are holding the rails above me, and for just a second, I wish I could disappear.

If I fall into the dark water, I would be gone quickly, and no one would ever know.

It’ll be as if this pain never happened. It’ll be as if I never caused trouble.

“You’re not going to jump in.”

Jason?

I whip my head around and see Jason approaching me. His black tie is undone, and he removes his jacket. He sits beside me, and carefully places his jacket over my bare shoulders. Jason exhales, and allows his legs to dangle beside mine.

“Wouldn’t it just be easier if I did? I already ruined your family’s reputation. I even ruined my family’s as well,” I remark.

“Reputation? Doll, in case you haven’t noticed, reputations are meant to be ruined,” Jason says, as he chuckles lightly. He glances at me, but I still refuse to look him in the eyes. “Bruce and Alfred are already doing damage control to the media. Since your shitty ex-boyfriend leaked that picture, Timbo and Dick are making sure it’s taken down online and we’re going to sue his ass until he’s poor and dead.”

“What?” I barely whisper and turn to look at him.

“You’re a part of our family whether you like it or not, Y/N. We protect each other, and that means we’re going to protect you, too. And trust me, Bruce and Alfred are very good at clearing up the rumors and paparazzi bullshit. Alfred even said he’s going to talk to your parents, so you have absolutely nothing to worry about, sweetheart. And as for Tim and Dick, your picture will never surface online again.”

I lean my forehead on the rail. “What about Damian?” I ask quietly.

“He’s doing me a favor, but that’s not important right now! I want you to know I believe you, Y/N. You are not what Rob says you are. You’re not a whore. That picture was taken without your consent and those fuckers had no right to do those fucked up, disgusting acts to you while you were drunk. And as for your fucking ex-boyfriend, he’s fucking asshole who should have believed you and beat the shit out of those other fuckers,” Jason growls under his breath, and runs a hand through his dark hair. “If I knew you back then…and knew what happened…I would have killed all of them, sweetheart. I would have shoot off those fuckers’ balls, and then I would have jammed my gun down your boyfriend’s throat, and then up his ass until he pukes up bullets.”

I slowly turn to face Jason, and I soon realize he never took his eyes off me the entire time he’s been talking. “W-why are you saying all of this, Jay?” I whisper.

“Because you deserve to know the truth, and you deserve better. Fuck doll…you’re the strongest babe I know. Y/N, you literally don’t hesitate to speak your mind, you don’t take shit from any of us, and if I remember correctly…you once kicked my ass during that time Dick and I fought over a mission gone wrong. Remember? You took me down with just one punch and kick to the knee?”

“How can I forget? I felt bad right after, and we ended up eating a carton of chocolate ice cream while watching stupid movies on Netflix,” I say softly. “All night long.”

“The best night of my life,” Jason replies, and grins before he scoots over next to me. “This…what happened tonight isn’t going to destroy you, Y/N. Do you want to know what I see happening?”

I force myself to choke back on my tears. “What?” I barely ask.

“You’re going to hug me, and I’m going to tell you you’re stronger than this. You’re going to flip off the fucking paparazzi with me, and we’re going to show them we’re two badasses, who are not going to let the media tell us bullshit, when we know we’re better than all of them. And then, I’m going to take you out to dinner, and then I’m going to spend the entire night convincing you, that you are perfect and how much you mean to me,” Jason says seriously. “Because doll…I’ve got you.”

“Then what?” I ask, wiping a tear from my cheek with a small smile.

“Then I’m going to tell you I love you, and that I want you to give me a chance. I want one chance to show you how fucking crazy I am for you, and that I’m so in love with you that just being near you isn’t enough. I can’t be a friend anymore Y/N, especially when all I want is to kiss you, hold you, and protect you until the day I die. But most importantly, you’re going to tell me that you love me, and want to be with me as well. And after we kiss and seal our love, you’re going to tell me you’re so strong, that no matter what the media, public, and Rob says: you are going to overcome all of this, and you’re never, ever going to let anyone put you down, when you are clearly above and better than all of us.”

Before I can say anything, Jason leans in and kisses me. Our lips together send fireworks throughout my entire body, and I feel as if I’ve fallen into hot lava. I feel my body on fire, and Jason clearly does too, when he reaches to hold my face, as the other holds my waist tightly. As we explore each other’s mouths and bodies (over the clothes), we hear someone honking their vehicle. Jason and I pull away from each other, and then we see it’s the Batmobile.

Jason helps us to our feet, as we check out the Batmobile. The window rolls down and we see Nightwing in the driver’s seat, along with Red Robin beside him. Robin is in the back and shakes his head at us.

“Don’t you know how to answer your cell phone, Todd?” Robin scoffs.

“We were busy at the moment…” Jason says, and leads us to the Batmobile. “Did you do what I asked, Demon Spawn?”

“Affirmative,” Robin says.

“B wants us to drop Y/N back at the manor while we finish what we started,” Nightwing says, with a smile for me.

Jason motions Red Robin to climb into the backseat with Robin. Once the passenger side is clear, he climbs in and pulls me onto his lap as Nightwing revs up the Batmobile. We speed away from the pier, as Nightwing drives us back to the manor.

“Finish what?” I ask curiously.

“Just a…little mission…” Jason answers sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Y/N,” Red Robin insists.

“Indeed, you will never go through this again,” Robin speaks up.

“B says not to kill him, so we have to be careful with what we do,” Nightwing clarifies, as I stare at the brothers in confusion.

“What are you guys going to do? Are you…going to kill Rob, and his friends?” I ask.

Nightwing grins at me, as Red Robin and Robin flash their innocent smiles. Jason bursts into a fit of laughter and kisses my cheek. With both strong arms wrapped around me, he leans his face towards mine.

“Oh, we’re not going to kill him or his friends, sweetheart. We’re just going to break their bones!”

#dc comics #batman #red hood #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #nightwing #robin #red robin

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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719

When you are in the shower, what do you normally do first: Make sure I’m completely doused with water. I don’t like having dry spots when I put on shampoo or body wash. Do you have a fear, even only a slight fear of insects: I hate cockroaches and have a fear of getting stabbed by anything anywhere on my body. Which shoes out of the shoes you have, do you wear most often: My Onitsuka Tiger sneakers for sure. Do you paint your nails? If so, what is the usual colour or colours: Thanks for asking first, because no I don’t. Do you have a favourite poem you like and can recall. If so, what is it: I don’t have my own favorite but Gab has always loved this one poem by Elizabeth Bishop, even memorized it at one point, and she wrote the whole piece down on one of my old planners and explained it for me, which led me to like the poem as well. It’s titled One Art. Do you find yourself even the least bit creative: No. That and being a flirt are the last words I’d use to describe myself.

Have you ever resided in a home that was haunted: No. If so, tell me of your experience please. If not, do you believe in ghosts: Not the houses I’ve lived in but both the schools I’ve attended have track records for being haunted, but I don’t feel like sharing the ghost stories I know of rn because it’s 1:56 AM lol. I like believing in ghosts, but I’m not obsessively adamant about their existence. What is the worst memory you can think of: Various traumatic experiences from childhood. Do you have any close friends who you feel do not understand you: Sure. I don’t really open up to close friends; I only save that for my best friends. That said, my close friends won’t know what I need sometimes. Best example I can give is when I rant to Andrew for the sole reason of needing someone to vent to, he’ll sometimes reassure me even though I’m not looking for reassurance. I appreciate his efforts of course, but sometimes I’ll just find myself taken aback by the words of affirmation I didn’t explicitly ask for haha. Do you like to use abbreviations or not: Only if it’s necessary or when I’m too lazy to type. Do you ever play any MMORPGS: No. Where was the last place outside your home of course, that you've been to: :((((((((((((((( This is SUCH A SAD QUESTION NOW :’( I went to visit my grandpa’s spot at our local columbarium last month. Did you enjoy going to this place or was it not so great: I always feel peaceful visiting my lolo. Do you like Disney: Walt Disney was a shit leader which will sometimes ruin my viewing experience of Disney movies lol. But yeah I do like a number of their movies. If so, what is your favourite Disney movie: Toy Story. What is the most creative thing that you do: Coloring and painting. Do you ever think of bettering your talent or do you not need to: I always want to improve in everything I do, not just my skills. Do you like to write in cursive or just plain text: Just plain text, but I regularly practice my alma mater’s unique cursive so that I don’t get rusty at it. At the mall do you get free samples even if you don't know what it is: No, cause then I kinda feel guilty that I don’t buy the product haha. I love when they give out free samples at Starbucks though. Do you know how to restore your hard drive on your computer: Nopes. Do you like any animes: No. What is your favourite movie of all time: Two for the Road. Might fuck around and watch the movie after this survey.

What do you mostly daydream about: The future, mostly. I like thinking about having kids, buying my own house, having a big wedding, etc. I know the economy is shit and the future is doomed, but let me live in my fantasy life dammit. When was the last time you got angry, and why did you get angry: I felt like a relative invalidated my anger on a Facebook post I shared last night and it pissed me off for a few minutes. What is the worst movie you've ever seen in your life altogether: Paris When It Sizzles was a bit of a mess; it’s the only Audrey Hepburn movie I only watched once and never cared to repeat. I’m also biased against Knives Out as I hate whodunnits lol. What is something you would NEVER eat even though some people do eat it: Cats, dogs, and now probably whatever kind of bats they have in China. Do you have any favourite artists: Like singers? I really admire Hayley Williams. Do you like Tim Burton and his work: I respect his work but it’s personally not really my style, so I tend to skip out on his films. Who is your favourite director: Stanley Kubrick. Hard to completely vouch for him because of the whole Shelley Duvall bit, but for real though I love his films and I’d be totally lying to myself if I answered with a different director. Who has influenced your life the most out of family members: My dad. Which celebrity or famous person had influenced your life tremendously: CM Punk. Most of his worldviews (not believing in regrets, luck is for losers, you don’t have to be blood to be family, etc) influenced me as a teenager and are mindsets I continue to carry with me to this day. What place do you want to visit the most: Morocco or Turkey. What is your favourite band: Paramore. What song will you never grow tired of by this band: Misguided Ghosts. What is your most favourite colour of all time: Black. What is the best toy you had as a child: I don’t really know what to call it but I LOVE that one Play-Doh boxed set that let you spew out different shapes; it was pretty fucking bomb. This is what it looks like:

Out of the toys now, which do you wish they had back when you were a child: Kinetic sand. But I don’t feel like I completely missed out cause the pre-2010s kids had actual sandboxes anyway. What is the oddest thing that's happened to you: There is at least one weird thing that happens to me everyday... I don’t really keep track of them either. Have you ever been chased by a wild animal: Yeah, by a flightless bird in a safari. If so, what happened: It saw that I was trying to take a photo of it, so it must’ve been threatened by my camera or the stance I was in so it charged towards me and started aggressivelypecking my foot. I was 12, I didn’t know any better. Who do you miss the most: Nacho.

#survey #surveys

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religioused · 4 years

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Christmas: It is All About You?

Christmas: It’s About You?

by Gary Simpson

Luke 2:1-20 And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.

6 And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

8 And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

15 And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child. And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.

The narrative informs us that the emperor ordered that the entire world be taxed. In reality, it was not the entire world. In Greek, the word that is translated world means the “inhabited earth.” To the ancients living in the Roman Empire, this meant the “civilized world.”(1) Unfortunately, looking down on people who do not share your culture or your technology is not a new thing. Here, we see it dating back to the time of Jesus’ birth.

In some areas of the Roman Empire, a census might have been about knowing who would serve in the military. Because Jews were exempt from military service, the census was mainly for tax purposes.(2) Essentially, the first Christmas was brought to us by Revenue Canada or by the United States Internal Revenue Service. Now, if nothing else ruins your Christmas, that thought will.

The trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem taken by Joseph and Mary was about 80 miles or 130 kilometers. This was no mean trip. The trip is likely to have taken a few days, and Joseph and Mary probably brought all of the food they needed with them, because that is generally how people traveled in that era.(3) Because there was no room in a hotel, Jesus’ bed was a feeding trough, a manger.

To those who were expecting to hear a grand story about a royal baby, born in luxury, Luke’s Christmas narrative is probably already more than a little disappointing. Jesus’ bed is a feeding trough for the animals. But hang on. Things are getting stranger.

Shepherds were “despised” by good people of the time. There was no way shepherds could keep the ceremonial laws, such as hand-washing.(4) And it was too this group of Shepherds are invited to the stable to meet Jesus. And this is not an open Facebook event invitation that by mistake went out to everybody and the shepherds saw the event and decided to come. This was not an invitation on a fancy card. The striking invitation had a personal feel. An angel appears to the shepherds. The heavenly visitor comes down and personally invites the shepherds. The angel tells the shepherds that they will recognize the Messiah when they see a baby in a feeding trough. And the hosts of heaven sang. The shepherds visited Jesus and they tell everybody the story that an angel said Jesus was the Messiah and the shepherds leave praising God.

And the narrative tells us that Mary treasured what had taken place, but she was not sure what it meant.

Commentator and Greek scholar William Barclay refers to the Gospel of Luke as the “universal gospel.”(5) Nigerian priest and theologian Justin Ukpong also believes that Luke presents a universal salvation, a salvation for all people.(6) To put this in lay terms, Luke is the bigger picture Gospel. Ukpong holds that Luke was written to reach “middle-class” members of the Roman elite.(7) I disagree with Ukpong on that point. To me, the Gospel of Luke is for the average person and for those who are excluded and that can be seen in the first two chapters of the Gospel of Luke, because shepherds were invited. William Manson wrote the commentary on the Gospel of Luke for The Moffatt New Testament Commentary set. Manson notes that the shepherds are the “centre-piece” in this section of Luke. The inclusion of shepherds is significant for those living in the “Judean home of Christianity.”(8) Luke refers to Jesus as the savior, which shows that Jesus is going to make an “appeal to sick and suffering humanity.”(9) In some circles, I might refer to the Gospel of Luke as the Joe six-pack Gospel. In church, the double-double Tim Horton’s coffee Gospel might seem more appropriate. Here are a few of the reasons why I disagree with the Nigerian theologian. Luke is very inclusive, including Samaritans, Gentiles, and the impoverished, disreputable, outcasts, and sinners.(10) Luke pictures God as having a universal embrace.(11)

Christmas time is challenging for many people. There is an expectation that we will have the famous Normal Rockwell Christmas dinner. All of the food will be perfect. Everybody will get along wonderfully well. There will be no family conflict, no offensive and inappropriate jokes. The perfect Christmas gift is given to each person. And then reality hits. Our perfect Christmas dinner might feel more like we are eating with the Bucket family from the British sitcom “Keeping Up Appearances.” Hyacinth is bragging. Richard, Hyacinth’s husband, is trying to crawl under the carpet in embarrassment. And you are stuck sitting between Onslow, who is eating while wearing dirty pyjamas, and Rose, who is more interested in getting a date with a handsome man she met than talking to anybody.

In a few cases, the very people who we are hoping will treasure our accomplishments and who will build us up are putting us down. And we may be thinking, “For this I flew across the country!”

For most of us, I think our families are much better than the dysfunctional and rather unusual Bucket family from “Keeping Up Appearances.” Even with the disappointments, there is love to celebrate.

Now I am going to ruin your Norman Rockwell Christmas picture. Christmas is not about the amazing turkey dinner. The ham. The cider. The chocolates. The wine. Christmas is not even about family. And for God’s sake, Christmas is not about the gifts. With that last line, Christmas might be starting to feel less stressful.

This might sound like heresy, but Christmas is not really about the little baby in a manger, shepherds, wise men, and angels. Christmas is about God celebrating you. Think about that! Christmas is about God celebrating you by choosing to be close to you. God is celebrating your skills, your abilities, your traits, your personality, and your successes. Much more importantly, Christmas is about God celebrating you as though you have no traits that drive people crazy, no awkward behaviors, and absolutely no failures. At Christmas, God celebrates you, by living as the most humble, while treating you like the most royal. The incarnation of God in the baby Jesus is about you, but probably not quite the way you expected. Rather than ruin the ending, I am going to let you read the rest of the Gospel of Luke, the Gospel of Inclusion.

Notes

1) J. Vernon McGee. Thru the Bible With J. Vernon McGee. Kindle ed. (Pasadena, California: Thru the Bible Radio, 1998), ebook.

2) Daniel Patte, et al., eds. Global Bible Commentary. (Nashville, Abingdon Press, 2004), 389.

3) William Barclay. “William Barclay's Daily Study Bible: Luke 2.” n.d., 17 Oct 2019. Study Light. <https://www.studylight.org/commentaries/dsb/luke-2.html>.

4) Barclay. <https://www.studylight.org/commentaries/dsb/luke-2.html>.

5) William Barclay. The New Testament: A Translation. Vol. 1. (London: Collins, 1968), 123.

6) Daniel Patte, et al., eds. Global Bible Commentary. (Nashville, Abingdon Press, 2004), 389.

7) Daniel Patte, et al., (2004), 385.

8) William Manson. The Moffatt New Testament Commentary: The Gospel of Luke. Kindle ed. (Seattle: Source Digital Pub., 2018. Originally published in New York by Harper and Brothers Pub., 1930), ebook.

9) Manson. (2018, originally published 1930), ebook.

10) Barclay. (1968), 123.

11) Barclay. (1968), 124.

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i-cant-feel-my-eyebrows · 5 years

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Silent Scream | Chapter 1

Characters: OC (Evelynn Wayne nee Blair), Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Cassandra Cain

Tagged: @writersfailure Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future updates of Silent Scream!

With a shuddering sigh the young girl rubbed up and down her arms as to bring warmth back into her arms. She had come to Gotham as per her mother’s request, but even though she was still a child, she knew it was solely just to get rid of her. She knew that her birth was not out of love but at a chance of security of her life, obviously it didn’t work and now she was left to suffer as she walked around aimlessly. Unable to keep up anymore she sought for shelter from the rain under a cardboard box hidden behind a dumpster in an alley. Not the smartest choice she knew, but at this point she couldn’t care less. Closing her eyes she tried to tune everything out; the sound of her grumbling stomach, the pitter-patter of rain, the shuffling of feet in front of her-wait what?

Cracking her eyes open, she noticed a looming figure in front of her. Although she quite literally had no reason to live seeing as she was just barely three, Evelynn still felt fear coursing through her veins. Staring in fear her bright blue eyes sparked with life for once since she had been abandoned. Shaking she let out a soft, almost inaudible whimper at the man in front of her. He smelt back, almost acidic like how her stepfather and mother smelt whenever they drank this weird drink. Leaning down his picked her up by a tuft of her black hair causing her to yelp and grab onto his hand while her legs flailed around in hopes of kicking him.

He was muttering something but she didn’t quite understand what he was saying what with the rain, his slurred speech but also the loud and hurried footsteps of a few people. Jumping from the roof a large shadow kicked the man down causing him to drop her, however into the arms of a smaller boy who scowled. “I don’t want her, one of you take her!” He barked throwing her into the arms of someone else who scrambled to catch her, tucking her safely into his arms. Rocking her back and forth he tried to soothe her, well, at least he was nicer than the first boy.

“It’s gonna be alright sweetie, don’t worry. Where are your parents?” He asked softly to her. Furrowing her eyebrows she shook her head, a closed fist closing above the blue and black fabric of his suit. With a confused frown he continued to bounce her in his arms in order to quiet her whimpering. “We’ve taken care of the situation, Nightwing anything about her parents?” The taller figure walked up to them causing her to duck further into the man’s, now known as Nightwing, arms. “Said...well sort of said that she doesn’t have any?” He tried to explain before Evelynn pulled back. With a shaky hand she signed, “My mum kicked me out, dad didn’t want her, she didn’t want me.” With that she frowned, it’ll be just like the rest, people just staring at her in confusion.

That was until from the back a girl walked up to them and signed back, “Can you hear us? Can you speak?” With bright eyes Evelynn signed back much quicker this time, “I can hear! I can’t speak because…” And once again she frowned at her own reason before turning back to the girl. “Bruce Wayne? Do you know Bruce Wayne? My mum said that was my dad.” She frantically signed to her, said girl translating to them before looking at the taller figure. Leaning down the figure asked her with narrowed eyes. “Who’s your mother?” Shaking her head she frowned. “She never told me, but I think it’s Dahlia? I heard the man call her that.” Nodding he stood back up. “Dahlia Blair?” He asked causing her to nod. Blair was her last name so it should be right, right? “Do you know her?” She signed with an unreadable expression. “I did, at one time at least. Tell me why are you looking for Mr. Wayne?” He asked, although his tone was much softer this time. “Mum said he didn’t want me...I want to ask him why.” She sighed before curling back into Nightwing’s arms. “What’s your name, sweetie?” He asked softly. “Evelynn.” She signed, the spark of life in her eye slowly dying down again. They knew who Bruce Wayne was, this meant her journey was ending, finally. “Evelynn, we know where Bruce Wayne is, will you come with us.” With tired eyes she nodded causing the smallest one to scoff. “Going off with strangers? Not a smart idea.” He stated before she signed without a shred of emotion, “It’s not like I much left to live for after I find him, whether I find him or not.”

After the quick, albeit awkward, drive back to the manor a man dressed in a fancy suit ran up to greet them. “Master Dick? What’s in your hands?” He asked cautiously observing the shaking child in his arms. Placing a hand against her forehead the man quickly picked her up, “She’s burning up, I’ll fetch the medicine!” He quickly said while carried her out and into the manor to get her warm.

“So Bruce, got something to say?” Dick asked, one hand of his hip as he looked at said man. Pulling off his cowl he sighed and rubbed the side of his temple. “Her mother was questionable to say the least, she came to tell me the child was mine but I had been off world before she left without a trace.” With another sigh he moved to change out of his suit, after all he had a new daughter to greet.

Walking out of the cave with his four sons and one daughter in tow he caught sight of Alfred feeding her a spoonful of medicine, watching her grimace at the taste but still thank the older man much to his amusement. “Master Bruce, she needs rest so I suggest whatever it is you need to do to wait.” Alfred instructed before turning to the girl only to see her with the same bright blue eyes staring widely at the man in front of her. “I’d agree, but it looks like we’ve got her attention.” He muttered before walking up to her, the small girl craning her neck to look up at him.

“So I heard you’re my daughter? How can you be so sure of that?” He asked causing her to flinch and shrug. “Would you be willing to do a DNA test?” He asked causing a look of confusion to cross her face before nodding hesitantly. Looking at Alfred who nodded he went over to swab the inside of her mouth before exiting, now leaving her with six strangers whose gazes seemed to bore into her. Fidgeting in her seat she looked up at her father before signing hesitantly. “Is it true you didn’t want me? That you didn’t love me?” He was about to respond before she continued on, “Mum said it’s my fault, she said that I ruined her life.” She let out a shuddered breath before moving to rub her eyes. Bruce was once again interrupted by Alfred this time as he walked in and nodded.

With a pained look Bruce leaned down and took her much smaller hands in his. “I don’t know why she would say that, but I need you to know that this isn’t your fault, alright?” He said softly causing her to look at him with watery eyes. “It doesn’t really matter in the end. I don’t know if you’re really my dad, even then it wouldn’t matter.” She signed before he stood up and lifted her into his arms. “You are my daughter there’s no question about that.” He told her much to her surprise. “And without question I’ll take care of you, if you’d like to stay here that is.” He offered her with a smile. “But I can’t speak, I’m not useful, I’ll ruin your life...just like mum.” She signed and was about to continue before Bruce pulled her into a hug, resting her head into the crook of his neck. “That doesn’t matter, it’s what you want. Would you let me take care of you as your father? I can’t promise you anything, but I promise you that I’ll take care of you and love you because you’re my daughter through and through, okay?” He felt her shudder before nodding. It was then he noticed a patch of his shirt getting wet. She was crying.

Pulling back her choked sobs had turn into full blown wailing, however what surprised them the most was the scratchy, unused voice that followed her crying. She wasn’t mute, but just didn’t speak? At the thought Bruce sniffed and rubbed his eyes. Wait, what? Pulling back he realised his vision was blurred by tears, he was confused. Why did his chest clench in pain, yet at every wail it unclenched in relief? “What the hell!?” He turned back to see that Damian had begun to wipe his face from the tears that rolled down his cheeks. His brothers and sister doing the same, even Alfred pulled out a napkin to wipe his. What was going on?

Looking back at the crying girl they noticed a very light, almost unnoticeable ring of blue light circle around her body. It seemed to shoot off of her in waves, hitting everyone and everything within the radius of her, aka all the people in the room with her. “Father! What is going on!?” Damian barked, but his voice wavered due to the assault of tears. “I’m not sure. Evelynn, please stop crying.” Bruce tried to calm down the girl who managed to stifle her sobs, the blue ring around her fading completely along with all their tears. “A metahuman?” Bruce mumbled under his breath before he noticed two small arms tug onto his shirt and held him close to her. With a smile he lifted the girl who instantly wormed her way into his arms, her head resting against his neck.

“Welcome home, Evelynn.”

#batfam #batsis #bruce wayne #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #silent scream

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unfolded73 · 4 years

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How Do We Get Back (7/16) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary: In a literal alternate universe where the Roses escaped financial ruin, David and Patrick struggle with loneliness and a sense that something isn’t right. A chance meeting in New York and a terrible tragedy drive them to question whether the timeline they are on is the right one.

Rated explicit. This chapter 3.6k words. (ao3)

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Chapter 7

“We’ve reached our cruising altitude and the captain has turned off the fasten seat-belt sign, which means you are free to get up and move about the cabin. However…”

Patrick pressed his forehead against the airplane window, staring down into the darkness. He couldn’t make anything out but he kept looking, almost as if he’d see a sign out there somewhere, something to tell him what to do. He continued to ignore the constant pressure behind his eyes; Patrick feared what his seat mates would think of him if he suddenly started to cry right there in seat 27F. He wasn’t a crier, but he felt very much like crying right now.

He’d been turning his time with David Rose over and over in his mind, looking at it from all angles, trying to figure out what it was about David that has attracted him so intensely. Patrick hadn’t understood his sexual orientation long enough to even begin to think if he had a type, or if David Rose was it. Thinking back over the boys and men in his past, he tried to see them through this new filter. There was Eric, his high school teammate — and yes, Dennis had been right, Patrick had been a little bit in love with him. Eric was tall with dark hair like David, so there was another data point. Going back even farther, there had been a deaf boy at camp when Patrick was fourteen. Patrick had never met anyone who couldn’t hear before, and had been mesmerized, watching the boy’s hands move as he signed. At night Patrick had lain in his bunk, practicing how to sign ‘Hi, I’m Patrick,’ spelling out the letters of his name over and over. Then when he’d finally met the boy, all the signing he’d learned had gone out the window. Instead of signing ‘Hi, I’m Patrick,’ he’d just waved like an idiot and run away. Maybe he’d had a crush then too.

The idea of picking apart every male friendship he’d ever had, every actor he’d ever admired, every Olympic swimmer he’d ever looked at, trying to decode if there had been sexual attraction there — it was exhausting. Okay, maybe the Olympic swimmer thing didn’t take much sleuthing, but the rest of it was exhausting. Besides, this wasn’t about his past. It wasn’t really even about David Rose, even though David was occupying most of his thoughts at the moment. It was about his future. It was about living the rest of his life as who he really was.

And thinking about that made him think about Rachel and how he was going to break her heart, and then he wanted to cry again.

The flight to Toronto from Newark wasn’t long, but the drive to Oak Grove once Patrick had retrieved his car from long-term parking was. It was already late, and Patrick’s head was muddled with emotional and physical exhaustion, so he stopped at the first Tim Horton’s off the highway and bought a large coffee.

An hour outside of his hometown, buzzing from the caffeine, a song he’d been listening to a lot when he’d first moved to Schitt’s Creek came up on shuffle, and Patrick started to cry. He wept for the way he’d felt then, before the bloom was off the rose, when he was so happy to have done something just for himself for once. He wept for all the lost years of his teens and twenties, when he didn’t understand who he was attracted to, didn’t understand why things with Rachel never seemed right. He wept for the marriage he’d stumbled into when a part of him knew it was a mistake.

By the time he pulled into his parking space, it was almost one in the morning and he’d calmed down. He unlocked his apartment door carefully, setting his suitcase down and going to check the bedroom. Rachel lay on her side of the bed, her breathing slow and even. The thought of climbing into bed with her when she was completely unaware of what he’d done, it felt like one more violation of her trust. He couldn’t do it. Patrick closed the door with a soft click and once he was ready for bed, fetched a spare blanket from the hall closet and settled down on the sofa. When he finally managed to soothe himself to sleep, it was by imagining he was in David’s bed in New York with its soft sheets and the smell of expensive aftershave on the pillows.

~*~

Moira Rose swept into the dining room at ten past the hour, one of her full, curly-haired wigs on her head. “David, I’m so glad you could join us for the evening repast!”

David always felt a bit like a teenager when he sat at his parents’ dining room table. “You insisted I come. You said, ‘I won’t accept no for an answer’!” He’d almost said no anyway; the idea of dragging himself out to his parents’ house in the suburbs had sounded like torture when Moira had called. But the guilt trip his mother would have given him had he refused was just a different, more insidious kind of torture.

Seating herself at her accustomed place, Moira gave him a knowing smile, like they were in on some joke together. “Well, I wanted to see everyone before Alexis leaves on her next adventure, and before I leave for Vancouver to shoot that episode of Arrow.”

“It’s one episode, it’s not like you’re going to be gone that long,” David said, spooning ravioli onto his plate.

“What even is Arrow, anyway?” Alexis asked.

“It’s a superhero show,” David said, giving her a surreptitious eye roll. “On the CW.”

“Eww.”

“Now now, kids, don’t knock your mother’s latest job,” their father said. “She’s apparently going to be a very important villain.”

“And there’s a chance the character could recur,” Moira said.

“Oh, goodie,” Alexis replied sarcastically, then pulled her phone out and started looking at it.

Moira swallowed a prodigious sip from her martini glass, and David took a moment to hope that she wasn’t mixing booze with pills. “Besides,” she stage-whispered, looking around as if for eavesdroppers, “apparently we need the money.”

David blinked at her. “What are you talking about? We have plenty of money.”

“Moira, we don’t need to talk about that now, sweetheart,” Johnny said. “Would someone please pass the salad?”

“So, David,” Alexis said, looking up from her phone and seemingly oblivious to the discussion of money problems. “What’s happening with that cute little button-faced guy who was at your place last night?”

He glared at Alexis for bringing his love life up in front of their parents. He’d been trying to think about anything other than Patrick, and Alexis talking about him wasn’t helping. “Nothing.”

“He seemed really nice, David,” she said, continuing her prodding.

“He was nice.” Patrick might have been the nicest person David had ever met, and David cringed when he thought about how they’d parted ways. It had just broken his heart a tiny bit to be unexpectedly confronted with the fact that Patrick was leaving New York. In that moment, he’d been completely unable to deal.

“So what’s going on there?”

“Nothing. He went back to Canada, where he lives.” He took a bite of salad, trying to affect an air of not-caring.

Alexis pouted. “Too bad.”

“Oh, are you having a long-distance love affair, David?” Moira asked. She was over-enunciating more than usual, and David estimated based on her speech pattern that she was on her third martini.

“No,” he said, the phrase ‘love affair’ making him physically recoil. He tried to think of something else to talk about.

“Speaking of our mother country,” Moira said, “did you hear about Gloria Gregson?”

“Who’s Gloria Gregson?” Alexis asked.

Moira scoffed. “Only one of the most decorated soap opera actresses of my generation. Anyway, the word on the street is that she’s given away all of her money and joined a cult.” Moira looked very smug about this fact.

“Is it me, or have I been hearing a lot in the news about cults lately?” David asked. Everyone else at the table shrugged. He tried to remember what he’d seen on the news a few days ago, but came up blank.

“Sold any paintings lately, David?” Johnny asked.

“No,” David said again, focusing on his plate.

“Well, keep reaching, son, I’m sure things will perk up.”

“Hoooow can they, John, when we can’t afford to pay for his patrons anymore?” Moira slurred.

“Moira!” Johnny said, his eyes very wide.

David dropped his fork with a clatter. “What? What is she talking about?”

“No no no, n— nothing,” his father stuttered. “She’s confused.”

David turned to his mother. “Mom?”

She looked contrite. “There might have been, in the past, one or two times that you father and I bankrolled a patron of the art at your gallery. Just two or three times at most.”

Alexis hissed in what she might have imagined was sympathy. “Ouch, David.”

“Dad?” David said, swinging around. “Is this true?”

“Is it true that it was only three times?” He asked, his face still betraying his panic. “Well…”

“Oh my God.” David pushed his chair back from the table. “So how much of the past success of my gallery am I actually responsible for?”

The guilty glance between his parents was all he needed to see. David stormed out of the house and didn’t look back.

~*~

A hand was shaking him. “Why’d you sleep on the sofa?”

Patrick cracked an eye open and saw Rachel’s face swimming in his field of vision. Levering himself up, he put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, still exhausted after three nights of too-little sleep. “It was one a.m. when I finally got home; I didn’t want to wake you.”

She smiled. “That’s very sweet but I know this sofa sucks to sleep on. You should have just come to bed.”

Patrick didn’t respond, squinting at the clock on the mantle. “Shit, I’m gonna be late for work.” He’d forgotten to plug in his phone, so it was probably dead in the pocket of his coat, unable to sound his usual alarm.

“Yeah, that was the next thing I was going to tell you,” Rachel called as he dashed off to shower.

The day was a constant flurry of activity: a meeting with his boss to debrief him on the seminar (which Patrick had to mostly fake his way through, as he’d really only managed to pay attention on the first day), a backlog of emails to respond to, an issue with a client who was delinquent on their payments. But Patrick was glad for the distractions, glad to focus on something other than what he was going to say to Rachel.

Despite his best efforts to slow down time, the work day came to a close and as Patrick went out to his car, stomach in knots, he began to desperately entertain the idea of saying nothing. At least not right away. Maybe he needed to sit with this for longer, really figure out if his relationship with Rachel was truly unsalvageable. There was no need to rush into a conversation that once it was out, could never go back in the box. He imagined how that would go. He’d go home and they’d make dinner together. She would ask him about New York and he’d have to make something up, give some excuse for why he hadn’t taken any pictures. They’d watch something on Netflix and then eventually go to bed.

His stomach twisted, thinking of being in bed with Rachel. After him being out of town for four days, she’d have every reason to expect sex. Any normal newly-married couple, he assumed, would have sex under those circumstances. And he didn’t think he could go through with that.

Beyond that, it would be irresponsible to go through with it even if he found himself physically capable. Patrick was embarrassed to admit that it had taken until mid-way through the day for it to occur to him how reckless he’d been with David. No, he hadn’t had penetrative sex, but a few minutes of googling told him that he was at risk for a handful of STDs from what they had done together. He couldn’t go to bed with Rachel given that. He’d have to tell her.

For a few seconds, Patrick thought he might have a full blown panic attack right there in his car in the parking lot of Rollins Electrical Supply. It took several minutes of controlled breathing before he felt steady enough to drive.

“Hey, I thought we might order a pizza,” Rachel said as soon as he walked through the door.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

She was tapping on her phone. “What toppings do you want?”

“I’m good with whatever,” Patrick said, setting his bag down and going into the kitchen. He opened the small cabinet where they stored a few bottles of rarely-opened liquor, wondering if a shot of whiskey would help. He pulled the bottle down, then put it back. Then pulled it down again, pouring a few ounces into a glass. He gulped it down, wincing at the burn in his esophagus.

“Pizza should be here shortly,” Rachel said when he rejoined her in the living room. She was still scrolling through her phone. “What is going on with these weird demonstrations everywhere?”

“What demonstrations are you talking about?”

Rachel shrugged. “I don’t know, seems like every time I look at the news people are rioting in cities, and police are killing protesters… the whole world feels like it’s falling apart.” She tossed her phone onto the sofa. “Do you want to watch something?”

He should let her eat first, he thought, not do this to her on an empty stomach. So he agreed, and Rachel spent ten minutes scrolling through the Netflix menu before finally picking an old season of Great British Bake Off. Patrick stared at the screen without really seeing it, thinking about David and wondering what he was doing. Had he gone to his gallery today? Was he out on a date with some new person from Tinder? Was he at home, also watching Netflix? Patrick wanted to text him, but he doubted that would be welcome. He pulled out his phone and read the few texts they’d exchanged on Wednesday.

“So, did you see anything good in New York?” Rachel asked when they’d set the veggie pizza up on the coffee table to share. On the TV screen, a baker sat on the floor and stared despondently into his oven.

The first image that popped into Patrick’s mind was of David stretched out naked on his bed, a beautiful and profane work of art. “I saw the Empire State building,” he lied.

“Cool, did you go up in it?”

“No, the line was too long. And I saw Rockefeller Plaza.” Another lie; he’d intended to do that, he just hadn’t quite made it.

“Aww, I’ve always wanted to skate there. Were there a lot of people skating?”

“Yep.”

When they’d both finished eating and before Netflix could auto-launch another episode, Patrick reached for the remote and flipped the TV off. “Rach, I need to talk to you.” He threaded his hands together, squeezing his fingers tight against the tops of his hands.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “What about?” They’d never spoken about that night in the car a few weeks ago, when she’d all but said their marriage wasn’t working. Everything since that night had been mundane discussions of work and household logistics, the elephant in the room unspoken about day after day.

He opened his mouth and closed it, uncertain where to start. Terrified. “I’m so sorry,” was all he could get out, which just deepened her frown.

“Sorry for what?”

“You said the other night that getting married had made things worse, and—”

“I was just tired that night, Patrick, I didn’t mean—”

“No, you weren’t wrong. At least, you weren’t wrong that something’s never been right, but I never knew what it was. I ran away to try to figure it out, and I don’t know why it took me so long. Why I couldn’t…”

“Patrick, you aren’t making any sense,” Rachel said, bringing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them like she was trying to fold herself into a ball and disappear. “And you’re scaring me.”

“I know. I know, I just… I have to tell you…” He rubbed his hands over his face. “God, this is so hard. When I was in New York, I met someone.”

“What do you mean, you ‘met someone’?”

“I met a… a man. And I… Rachel, I broke my vows.”

The expression on her face remained confused. “Patrick, are you saying to me right now that you had sex with a guy in New York?” She didn’t look angry, but that was probably because she couldn’t wrap her head around what he was telling her.

“I mean, not sex sex, but…” He could imagine David rolling his eyes at that distinction. “But yes. Yes, I did.”

Rachel stood up and paced across the room before turning back to him. “Why?”

“Because for the first time in my life, I wanted someone,” he said without thinking, and then winced as he saw those words punch Rachel in the stomach.

“For the first time in your life,” she repeated, dazed. “So you’ve been lying to me? All these years?”

“Not consciously! Rach, I swear to you, I didn’t know. I didn’t realize that…” He hadn’t said it to anyone yet, hadn’t said the words out loud. It felt important to say them now. “That I’m gay.”

Anger was starting to flicker in her eyes. “How could you not realize? How could anyone not realize that they liked men and not women? Especially when you and I were…”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. We got together so young, and I just… maybe I knew on some deep level, but—”

“And now you’ve gone off and fucked a guy and decided that you’re gay. Just like that.” She folded her arms across her chest.

Patrick ran his hands over his face. Her anger was the least of what he deserved, and he resolved to endure whatever she was going to throw at him. “It was different, with him. I’ve never felt…” He stopped. How could he make her understand without being needlessly cruel?

“You’ve never felt that with me, that’s what you’re saying.”

He nodded.

“So some stranger who you picked up in New York can make you feel things that I never have in fifteen years.” Rachel’s voice was like shards of glass scraping across her throat.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck does ‘sorry’ get me? It doesn’t get me back all those years I’ve wasted. It doesn’t undo this marriage.” Spots of color on her cheeks stood out against her pale skin, clashing with her red hair. “Why couldn’t you just have been honest with me that things didn’t feel right with me?”

“I tried, Rachel. Every time we broke up, I tried to tell you that. I did tell you that! But then you’d pretend to text me by accident and I’d be feeling lonely and you’d manage to glue our relationship back together—”

“Patrick, you’re a grown man; I shouldn’t be able to browbeat you into getting back together. If you weren’t happy, you could’ve just said ‘no’.”

He stood up too, now. “Don’t you get it, Rach? I never said no to anyone about anything, not in my whole life! All I’ve ever done has been to please people. My parents, my teachers, my coaches, you,… I never once did something just for me until a few nights ago. I was selfish, and I know how much this sucks. I will regret hurting you for the rest of my life, but I won’t regret finally taking something that I wanted. I won’t.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Must’ve been some guy.”

He smiled in spite of himself. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“I doubt it,” Patrick said.

“So what do we do now?” Rachel asked.

“The apartment is yours,” he said. “I’ll go stay with my folks, see if I can find another place I can afford—”

The finality of what he was saying seemed to spark her anger again. “Just like that, it’s just over?”

“I should never have married you, and I take responsibility for that. I’ll pay whatever it takes for the… court costs or whatever. It should be easy, we don’t own much—”

“Say the words, Patrick. Say you’re divorcing me.”

“What’s the alternative, Rach? Do you want to stay married to me when we both know I can’t love you the way you deserve?”

“And you never did love me,” she said. It was realization after realization, hitting her painfully each time.

“I do love you, Rachel, but not the way a husband should love a wife. And I would pay any price to have realized that sooner, I swear I would. But all we can do now is… move forward.”

Swiping angrily at her face as more tears flowed, Rachel ran into the kitchen. His shoulders slumping, Patrick picked up his backpack and the suitcase that still stood by the front door, and he left the apartment.

Chapter 8

#schitt's creek #schitts creek #david x patrick #david x patrick ff #david x patrick fic #hdwgb fic #my fic

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dontfeedthebabytigers · 6 years

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You’ve Got So Much Heart: Chapter 14

ao3 link (x)

He grew up on the rolling hills that bury Gotham; he used to find the city beautiful when he looked at its twinkling lights from his bedroom window. When he had been no older than five the truth about the city he once thought shone brighter than the Zeppelin’s spotlights that combed over the Narrows. He saw the crime that didn’t just run threw Gotham’s veins, but kept the city together. People died everyday under those spotlights in a city filled with more criminals than cops, and that went double for the clean cops. Then he discovered Batman and Robin and their mission to remind everyone what justice meant. He thought it would be the end of crime in Gotham, but no, crime went on. All signs pointed to the vigilantes being Bruce and Damian Wayne--- he knew that before he turned eight and still kicked himself for not discovering what seemed so obvious earlier. Hell, he lived next door to them all his life and it still took him almost two years to figure it out. He thought himself a genius back then, but he was still stupid enough to confront Bruce Wayne face to face--- not to mention trying again after every time Bruce turned him around. Eventually, he convinced Bruce that just because one Robin was on the way that he shouldn’t stop having a partner.

Look how that turned out.

Seven years later, Tim took on the mantel of Red Hood from a deranged clown. He lived in the abandoned Drake Manor because Bruce’s guilt complex would never allow him to step foot on the grounds. Time basked in his solitude, conducted himself in the most efficient manner possible. In the morning, he made himself coffee on his single burner and ate a granola bar for energy. The rest of his daylight hours were spent compiling any evidence he could against the crimes committed by Gotham’s elite. The corporations that led to the deaths of thousands through malpractice and neglect were his largest targets. It was hard work that would have been a hell of a lot easier a few years ago, but slow progress was still progress. Once the sun set and he couldn’t risk any light from his computers shining out the windows, the Red Hood took to the streets. That, being the Red Hood, was the easy part. He let out a few drops of the anger that threatened to spill over the edge, unleash the pain on people he felt deserved to carry it.

If only pain could work on rich people like Jared Brand the same way it worked on the murderers and abusers he took out. But no, only martyrdom would fall on Brand if he were found dead in the morning. His company would continue on without fear. Tim needed to expose their crimes and then show others what would happen if they followed in Brand’s footsteps. The plan had faults. Greed would always be the wild card, but he couldn’t do nothing. He had to stop the people Batman didn’t touch. He had to do it in the way Bruce feared.

That night Tim found himself sat upon a tenth story window sill of an abandoned apartment building watching a Brand Pharmaceuticals representative overstock a local pharmacy with every opioid imaginable. He witnessed three of these shipments before and saved a handful of victims from overdosing from being overprescribed. Tim still lacked the evidence to show that Brand knew that these shipments were happening, but that had to wait until morning. Right now, Tim just needed a window to jump in and stop the shipment without hurting the driver or the store’s stock boy. They were just low wage workers without the medical knowledge to see that this many opioid pills were far too many. They didn’t know that they were committing a crime, so he had no reason to hurt them. Tim actually preferred the idea of getting in and out without them knowing he arrived at all.

However, they appeared to have started a lengthy conversation which meant Time had to get comfortable and wait them out. He even almost fell asleep until a light tap on the window leading to what was supposed to be an abandoned apartment made him jump right out of his hiding place. Only years of training kept Tim from shouting, but years of instinct had him pointing a gun at an unimpressed Robin.

Fuck, how the kid even found him without the Bat or Nightwing on his tail was beyond him. Tim could have sworn that they kept the kid on lockdown.

Tim put the gun away and sighed as he pushed up the window. “The hell are you doing alone out here?”

Dick signed an answer, but Tim wasn’t as good at ASL as other members of Dick’s family.

“I got every other word of that. Do you have any paper you could write on?”

The kid sighed, took a breath, and spoke. “No, it’s okay.”

It was the first time Tim had heard Dick speak in four years, He barely recognized the soft voice and hesitant words that came from the kids mouth. Time could still remember the mornings Dick’s happy chatter filled the halls and woke him from what little sleep he had gotten the night before. There were often days when Dick would destroy any chance of focusing on homework or case files with the need to conversate. Tim didn’t even need to speak; Dick would have carried the entire conversation for hours. Having him around during the days Tim couldn’t bring himself to say a word had been nice.

This wasn’t the same Dick Grayson, and he wasn’t the same Tim Drake.

“What are you doing here?”

Without warning, Dick joined him on the window sill--- Tim was just happy the kid wasn’t built like Damian had been as a child or there wouldn’t have been room. Not that Damian had been overly muscular, but most children were larger than Dick even at eleven.

Tim waited for Dick to answer him, but it became clear that wasn’t going to happen. “I take it things aren’t going well in paradise.” Still no response. “I’m not surprised. The Bat’s never been the easiest to get along with.”

“It’s his brand.” A smile slipped over Dick’s face like water.

“There he is.” Time nudged the kid and the smile came back for a second. “Seriously, what are you doing out here alone?”

Dick shrugged. It looked like he wasn’t going to say anything, and Tim was about to give in when, “I wanted to see you.”

Dumbfounded, Tim could only stutter out his response. “What? Me?”

“Why not?” His body curled in on himself like an accordion. “You’re my brother. I miss you.”

Crap. “None of them have any idea you left I’m guessing.”

All he did was shrug again. Damian was going to kill him. He stood up and pulled out his grapple. “Come one, we need to get you home before Nightwing skins me.”

Dick didn’t move.

“Did you hear me?”

Dick nodded.

“Okay, then let’s go.” Nothing. Tim sat down again. “Why are you really here, Dick? It has to be important right?”

A tear slipped from Dick’s eye and Tim froze. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait. What? Why are you sorry?”

“Babs told me.” Dick had trouble speaking through his tears. “Joker hurt you. I couldn’t save you.” He sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

What the fuck. “Dick, you don’t need to apologize.”

“But I didn’t---”

“Neither did I.” They both stopped breathing for a moment. Gotham was unnaturally quite tonight. “I couldn’t save you from the Court. We’re even.”

“Even?” Dick sounded unsure.

“Sure,” Tim deflated, his head leaned against the window pane. “Why not?”

Except that they weren’t even. Dick had the excuse of being kidnapped, but Tim couldn’t make those excuses. He had a function brain for most of that time until, well, the human body can’t take over point-one amps of electricity before dying, but .08 over the course of a few months would stop just short of death while leaving room for all sorts of side-effects. Tim’s lucky that he can function at all. But being Jokerized for a few days wasn’t like what being turned into a Talon must feel like. Dick’s makeup job wasn’t as extensive as the last time Tim saw him. Dick’s hands and neck were pale with black and navy veins. When Tim had been made to look like the Joker it had just been face paint. Tim couldn’t imagine the pain of having to see the creature that mad man turned him into every day.

“Tim?” Dick whispered, somehow curling tighter in on himself. “Do you think you can ever come home?”

He had never even thought about going back to Wayne Manor. Picturing himself, as he was at that moment, looking up at the Wayne Family Portrait seemed impossible. “I don’t think that I’m wanted.” He paused, something like nostalgia passed over him. “Maybe one day.”

That answer seemed to work for Dick, or he didn’t feel like talking anymore. Either way, Tim didn’t want to stay on the subject and let the silence fall. A headache began to come on and he didn’t have his migraine medication on him tonight, so he felt it best to try and keep himself from getting overly emotional.

“What are you doing?” Dick pointed at the scene below.

That was something Tim could talk about. “Stopping a bad drug shipment and ruining a billionaire’s day amongst other things.”

He nodded. “Can I help?”

Tim almost burst out laughing. Dick still remained the same crazy kid he knew all those years ago. “No, absolutely not. The last thing I need is news that the Red Hood and Robin were seen together.”

The kid even had the audacity to pout.

“Cry all you want, but I’m not changing my mind. You may as well go home before anyone notices you left.”

A nod and Dick stood up. He followed order and took out his grapple gun, but a stubborn hesitance made a once graceful movement stiff.

“Hey,” Tim said before Dick shot off into the night. “You don’t always have to do what Bruce, or any of them say. Rebellion looks good on you.”

The smile didn’t fade that time and Dick flew off into Gotham’s oppressive night. An engine revved and broke through the silence, and Tim turned to see delivery truck drive away.

“Finally.” Tim said as he shot off his own grapple gun and swung down to the street below.

#mirada writes #you've got so much heart #dick grayson #fanfic

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chronicbatfictioner · 7 years

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Fast Car - Chapter 3

Tim borrowed the $300 of Jason's remaining cash to buy a car.

Technically, Jason had bought the car, since Tim was not allowed to get one without parental consent. But the $1,500 car was acquired with mostly Tim's money, and therefore, it would be Tim's car.

Janet Drake was livid. She went to town and declared that Jason had robbed his son to buy a car. And when Jason showed up to take Tim for his promised driving lesson, she was even more furious that she'd threatened that Tim should never return if he goes on with the driving lesson.

Tim had stood his ground, hand clutching Jason's painfully, and said, "that's fine. I'm leaving, anyway."

Jason had talked him out of packing out right there and then - while Sheriff Jones calmed Janet down.

For all his genius, Jason knew that Tim was unhappy. Heck, the entire city knew that Tim was unhappy. He was diagnosed by the school counselor as Manic Depressive even before he'd started high school. According to Tim, his depression was the sole argument that the counselor had given to prevent Tim from starting at sophomore year, at least, instead of freshman.

Jason had worked hard through the years to keep Tim's depression at bay, the best that he knew how: keep him busy, make sure he would eat, make sure someone would be there with him at all times, keep him talking. If the whole list of things were filled, he could always be sure that Tim would go straight to sleep by the time Jason called to say goodnight.

And wake up in the morning sans a new scar.

After graduation, and after Grandpa died, Jason had began noticing new scars on Tim, and fully blamed himself for not being there for Tim. His work had taken him into the late hours, early mornings. He could not take calls from Tim at random - Tim would have to wait for Jason to make calls. Most of Tim's friends have scattered all over the country into their respective colleges.

After they acquired the car, Jason did not know what Tim was doing through the next few months. He was too busy trying to find enough money to cover his rent - something that was getting much too familiar for him. The only leverage he'd gotten was that with Winter, there were numerous cars that demanded service, and the townsfolks didn't mind paying extra for him.

Blessedly, Tim did not hesitate to pick him up or loan him the car at any time. It was mostly parked in Jason's apartment, anyway, because Tim had feared that Janet would try to sabotage it (she had, actually, by removing a fuse. And Tim had to wait a few days until Jason could come by and bring the replacement fuse).

Jason would notice the telltale marks of a new cut seeping through his coat, sometimes, and he'd make a point of holding Tim extra tight, or calling him more diligently in the next few days, just for him to hold on.

That is, until the Spring had started, where Tim handed him a presentation on his laptop.

Tim's presentation - literal presentation in an actual slideshow - actually made sense. They would move - with the amount of cash they both have, it should be enough to get a place for them; Jason would get a job, Tim would get himself enrolled at the Gotham City Community College. The study would take two years, whence Tim would try to find internship jobs that would guarantee him a full-time job by graduation. And then Jason can get whatever kind of education he wants at the Community College, because he would not need to work full time with Tim covering the rent and whatnot.

If not for Jason's trepidation of the repercussions, he'd probably jump at it right away.

"No," he said flat out.

Tim rolled his eyes. "Why?"

"Because!" Jason insisted, his brain racing to find excuses that's not his fear of Janet Drake's wrath. "You're sixteen!"

"By this time, doofus, I'll be seven-teen. Technically almost legal and I could sign in for the military without parental consent - if I want to. I would also be tried as an adult if I'd committed felony! So yes. I'll be an adult by then."

Jason gave him an unimpressed glare. "And you want to do the utmost teenage cliché ever: run away from home."

"Technically, I'm not running away from home. I'll just be going back to my roots." Tim answered. "I'm a Gothamite by birth, Jason. So are you. We're not suited for this stupid country life. Furthermore, even a Community College at Gotham would be better than--" Tim made a disgusted face, "--the Thurman College of Applied Sciences. Seriously? Their idea of 'applied science' is how to change one's tires or man the gas station! That's not Science! That's vocational studies!"

Jason cringed inwardly. He had not chosen to apply for the Thurman College; not just because he didn't have the money, but also because the studies available there were moot, as far as he was concerned. One of his garage's clients even admitted to have brought his car to the 'college' to see if any of the students or faculty could figure out what's wrong with his car, to no avail. Until Jason exorcised the 'gallstones' from his gas tank that previously blocked the gas' meter.

Yeah, Jason could do a better job out of instinct than any of the students there. Thus, he never saw the need to apply.

Tim? Tim would stick out like a sore thumb in there. The only 'chemical' related studies there were food prep and plant care. Neither of which would have appealed to Tim even if he was paid to do it. Tim's mother, as they have both suspected, had refused his repeated pleas to have him schooled at other colleges out of town. She claimed that she didn't want to lose sight of her only son, "not especially since your dad died, Timmy!" But Tim said that she was simply being obsessive and possessive.

That, and there was the fact that she was getting engaged to the town's Sheriff.

"She wouldn't even miss me when I'm gone. Sheriff Jones have like, three kids under the age of twelve!" Tim said gleefully.

"Have you thought of where we'd live, in Gotham City? It's a big city, Tim, not like Bris-Town." Jason pointed out.

"Oh yes I have. I thought we'd go there on the weekends, scope the living quarters, and then put a deposit for an apartment or whatever, and then move there little by little until we can completely move there. We should also look for jobs there while we're at it. You know I won't be proposing this if I hadn't thought of every angle." Tim explained, idly scratching his arm.

"Your mom would cut you off your inheritance if you do this." Jason reminded him.

"Pfft... she can't, really. Plus, there isn't much inheritance there, anyway." Tim said. "The so-called major inheritance is the house. And I can't really get it if she still live in it, now, can I? The lawyers sent me the dividend of my trust fund directly, and she can't stop it. It's only a couple of thousands, but it should be enough to cover a place for at least three months for us."

Jason has to admit, Tim is good at making plans. Bad at executing them. Although in Tim's defense, Jason would have to point out that the only thing that usually ruined Tim's plans would be his own mother. He had seen Tim had almost managed to build a microhydro-power plant at the town's fountain, only to have Janet Drake swung a hammer onto the contraption. Tim was twelve at the time.

Jason and his grandma had held Tim when he wept through that whole day.

Or when Tim started a petition to use the Town's fund to buy solar panels for water heaters; only to have Janet rip the physical signatures to pieces. Tim was fourteen. Grandpa had painstakingly glued the petition back together again, and Jason had handed the petition - now laminated solidly - to the City Hall. Janet Drake had flat out refused to have her house get a piece of the hot water installation, citing that the only place that needed hot water in her house was her bathroom, the one in her bedroom.

Tim had showered at Jason's or at his other friends' homes during winter from that point onward.

Jason had often wondered, if he has Tim's brain and his mom had been alive, if she would've done the same thing and sabotaged everything Jason would do. His grandparents would've been supportive - as supportive as they were of Tim's projects. He knew they would've been happy with him - proven by his grandpa's enthusiasm in teaching him about cars; even if his own truck eventually had to be sold off because he'd needed the money for his medicines. Or his grandma's undying support at him learning to cook - of all things. Tim was all thumbs when it comes to the kitchen; because Janet had forbidden him to do anything in the kitchen other than to open the fridge.

This time, however, Tim's plan would not involve or be touchable by Janet, at all. All Tim would need to do is bide for time, wait until he actually turned semi-legal.

Jason couldn't be sure if he should be glad or scared as all hell.

#jaytim #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #fanfic #batfam #trigger warning #no-capeAU #bruce wayne #songfic #fastcarAU

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lookatthisdork · 6 years

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Meditations of Jason Todd (Draft)

In the spirit of NaNoWriMo, I’ve made several attempts at drafting different fic ideas, which inevitably meant blocks of Batfam fanfic drabbles that don’t have any coherent plot, flow or continuity. They’re all basically unfit for internet consumption right now, except for this first attempt at writing in Jason’s voice.

(Um, I’m still reading Pre-Crisis and 90s comics in my free-time, so the only canon Red Hood I have is his single animated movie. Since this is set significantly after that in his character arc, I’m not super confident when writing him. I have a problem writing characters I haven’t read the canon for, honestly.)

The problem with trading and selling drugs in a city like Gotham is that no matter how careful you were with recruitment, no matter how high your people’s morale and loyalty, you inevitably have to get your hands dirty to keep the money flowing. There are always incentives for both defectors and saboteurs to take pot shots at your stake. Offing a boss could mean a bigger piece of the pie for yourself, better job security (in the short-term, if your employment was tenuous), averting your boss throwing you under the bus for a job gone wrong. If the guy up top doesn’t maintain an aura of invulnerability, a willingness to crush any dissent under his boot, he quickly finds himself faced with with mutiny.

Dealing in drugs always ends in blood, one way or another. Jason was well aware of this. He was also aware of the fact that if you wanted to finance something really expensive quietly and quickly, drug money was the most sure-fire way of getting what you wanted.

(Actually, well-done white-collar fraud was the most sure-fire way, but if there was one thing he’d absorbed from watching Oracle, it was that fraud was never as secure as people made it out to be. It only took one individual with a computer and more skill than you to blow your operation to bits. Maybe it was old-fashioned, but at least drug-money was a physical object that couldn’t be “lost” with a few keystrokes.)

(Also, fraud was boring as a sole source of income. Too much time behind a screen, not enough explosions and punching people in the face.)

The Red Hood had been a damn-good drug lord, Jason liked to think. He’d run a tight ship, and the “severed heads in the duffel bag” shtick had quickly established just how out-of-their-league everyone else in the game was. Sure, he hadn’t stayed in business all that long for several good reasons (only one of which was Bruce), but extorting organized crime bosses was like riding a bicycle – really hard to forget. There was no practical reason for why he shouldn’t just recycle his old plan in a new city for some fast cash. Wasn’t like the shit-hole he was stuck in had anyone equipped to take him down.

Of course, striking fear into the hearts of criminals by decapitating their peers wasn’t the best strategy to use when your little brothers had front row seats to the carnage via helmet-cam.

He could just disable the cam for that part, of course. But the brats would definitely put two-and-two together and hatch some plot in response. An unnecessary headache when there was no Dick to foist them off on.

And...Jason wasn’t the best role-model in the world. He could admit to that. He used the phrase “little brothers” to refer to Tim and Damian very, very lightly in deference to the uncomfortable number of murder attempts among the three of them. Nowadays, he did regret all the stabbing and shooting and general dickery. Even though Damian was genetically engineered to be the most aggravating child on the planet and Tim kept stealing Jason’s alter-egos out from under him (unrepentantly now, the little shit). They were still better than uninterested-and-unhelpful-unless-I’m-sending-you-to-Arkham Dick and fucking Bruce. They didn’t deserve half the shit they were dealing with.

But his regret didn’t magically fix everything. There were 100-to-1 odds that neither kid saw Jason as anything more than “that one fuck-up that we don’t discuss in polite company.” Fair enough. Still, didn’t mean that the Red Hood had to live down to their expectations. He could do better – be the responsible adult, make sure they were fed and watered regularly, maybe (maybe) address their allotted emotional-expression-of-the-week.

Jason blamed his previously non-existent brotherly streak on Cassandra. She’d not only spoiled him by re-familiarizing him with friendly human contact, but she also subtly planted in his mind the idea that hey, you know who else would appreciate Jason’s company when Cassandra was busy? Tim and Damian. And you know who would benefit most from Jason’s unique perspective on life? Who needed a reprieve from Bruce and Dick and all of their frankly impossible expectations? Who could always use another person watching their backs, making sure they end up in an early grave?

(Honestly, Dick should watch Cass in Big Sister Mode and take notes.)

A soft huff of static came through the comm in his ear without warning, followed by the ridiculously-identifiable Damian’s click of the tongue. (Bruce was trying to train him out of doing it in costume so people wouldn’t catch on - with no success, of course.) “Todd, have your remaining neurons finally ceased to function? You’ve been standing outside the warehouse for five minutes. Are you ready or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, hold your horses,” he said as he checked the indicators for the explosives one last time. (Still all green, ready and able to wreck a certain someone’s next fiscal quarter.) “I was just reminiscing about the good old days, back when we all hated each other’s guts and I still blew up drug dens with the dealers inside instead of out. Ever miss those times?” he asked, heavy on the sarcasm.

Tim’s voice was dry as a desert, even with the slightly-tinny reception. “I miss them as much as I miss the knife that was embedded in my spleen.”

“Well, you have to admit, a knife in your spleen was probably the most exciting thing that happened to you that week, even if it was bad for your health long-term.”

“Clearly Todd’s mental dysfunction is worsening,” Damian said. As usual, his tone gave no indication if that was meant to be a joke or an insult.

Probably both, actually. Kid got a kick out of riling people who weren’t Dick up.

At least it was a joke clearly aimed to get a chuckle out of Tim instead of a joke at his expense. If there was one thing this months-long jaunt into the multiverse was doing, it was driving the boys together through their shared survival instinct and the fact that Jason deprived them of all baked goods whenever he had to break up their fights.

(Bribing his brothers with freshly-made cakes and brownies in exchange for good behavior was really the only reason they were three months into this shit-show with no major casualties.)

“Ain’t that a shame,” Jason replied. “It’ll just be you and Tim, stuck all alone in Not-Gotham. What a perfect opportunity for you two to bond.”

No,” both boys said at the same time.

Then the sound of Damian trying to land a hit on Tim (and failing judging from the lack of a pained grunt) filtered through Jason’s headpiece. Because Damian couldn’t stand to agree with Tim on anything for more than 10 seconds without ruining the moment.

Well, whatever. The brotherly-bond was a work in progress. “Stop fist-fighting so we can finish this,” he said. “I’ve got Falcone’s heroin wired up to an irresponsible amount of explosives, and I’d like to get our racket money before dawn.”

What I just wrote makes no sense out of context, but since this is the only thing I have written for this AU, I’ll just explain here:

This is from the “Jason-Tim-Damian get stuck in Flashpoint” AU I mentioned at some point, a few months into their impromptu stranding. How they got there isn’t super important, and I’m handwaving intervention from standard Earth not being able to get them back home in a timely manner. (Note: Bruce, Dick, Cass and everyone else aren’t trying really hard to get them back; it’s just not working for Reasons.)

After thinking about these three in a strange Not-Gotham for a while, I came to the conclusion that they’d lay low and avoid drawing attention to themselves instead of trying to approach Thomas-Batman or Alt-Cyborg or someone else. Things might be different if Dick or Cass were the oldest sibling on the ground, but Jason’s much slower to trust, as are Tim and Damian. A virtual stranger that also happens to be Batman would be the last person Jason would trust with his and his brothers’ safety.

Naturally, that means the guys need to find a source of income and a place to hole up. The former, Jason gets by extorting the local organized crime - charging money to sabotage competitors and charging money to not sabotage his employers. Lighter on the murder than his first return to Gotham, but Tim and Damian noticeably don’t bring that subject up anyway. I imagine they picked a spot that was an auxiliary batcave on their Earth and fix it up as a temporary base where Tim is trying to engineer something to send them back to their Earth (funded by Jason’s extortion racket). Damian is stuck as the odd-jobs kid, which he handles with as much patience as he can. (Hint: he’s not a very patient person.)

It would be a waste of the setting not to get the three of them involved with Thomas-Batman and possibly even the main plot of Flashpoint, so this scene would be a sort of in-between-scene prologue before the status-quo changes. I’m leaning towards either Red Hood crashing one of the Cyborg-Batman scenes because he needs tech only Cyborg has or one of the guys interrupting Martha-Joker’s last crime.

Of course, this premise requires a long-form fic, which I’ve never written before. This is all wild speculation, really. I’ll probably never write all of this out. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

BUT IF I DO, you can count on Jason finding out that in a world with no Bruce and no Robin, he STILL ended up dead and resurrected. The multiverse just has it out for him, clearly.

#batman au #au #fanfic #mine #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #flashpoint au

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gethealthy18-blog · 5 years

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287: How to Create and Rekindle Passion & Libido in Relationships With Susan Bratton

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/news/287-how-to-create-and-rekindle-passion-libido-in-relationships-with-susan-bratton/

287: How to Create and Rekindle Passion & Libido in Relationships With Susan Bratton

Child: Welcome to my Mommy’s podcast.

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Katie: Hello, and welcome to “The Wellness Mama Podcast.” I’m Katie from wellnessmama.com. And today’s episode, may be one you don’t want your little ones listening to, so if you are a mom or a driving in the car with little ones, you might wanna listen to this one sometime when your kids are not in the same room, unless sex is a topic you’ve already talked to them quite a bit about. Because I am here with Susan Bratton, who is considered a champion and advocate for all who desire more passionate relationships and she’s considered a sexpert. She’s been called the Dear Abby of sex with her fresh approach and original ideas that have helped millions of people of all ages to transform sex into passion. She’s been married to her husband, Tim, since 1993. But we hear a little bit about their story today and that it wasn’t always just sunshine and rainbows.

She’s an author, an award-winning speaker, and a serial entrepreneur, whose passion is to help couples all around the world. With her husband, she is CEO and co-founder of Personal Life Media. And she’s authored 20 books, including, “Relationship Magic,” “The Passion Patch,” and “30 Romance Tricks That Work Like Magic,” as well as her international best-seller, “Sexual Soulmates.” And in this episode, we go deep on things like why intimacy seems to die at a certain point in marriage and what you can do to revive it, why women and men are so different when it comes to intimacy, and how women can learn to be more in touch with their bodies in a way that’s really sexually satisfying. So, buckle your seatbelts. This is a fun one. But, again, maybe not one for little children’s ears.

Susan, welcome. And thanks for being here.

Susan: Oh, Katie, It’s so lovely to have the opportunity to share a conversation that we have with others. You’re always a joy to me. And thank you so much for the conversation around our sexuality and how it manifests over the different life stages we have, as a woman. I know that’s a big part of what we wanna cover today. So, thank you.

Katie: Absolutely. And I’m so excited to jump into this with you because, not only are you a friend and an expert on this, I think this is a topic that doesn’t get talked about enough. We’re pretty comfortable talking about all the other health topics. But I feel like this is really an important aspect of health that doesn’t get talked about even sometimes among close friends, and one that can be so helpful if we have the conversation in a constructive way. So, if you’re willing to get a little vulnerable, at first, I know from knowing you that you have a pretty amazing story when it comes to yourself with your husband. So, if you don’t mind, can we start there?

Susan: Of course. Yeah, well, I’m a sexpert. And that is a funny thing to be. And I’ve really had to grow into it because it takes a lot of courage to be a sexpert because people are really triggered by conversations about sex. And that comes mostly from people’s shame and traumas that have happened to them, and their parents never taught them much about sex. Their parents never were very intimate together, weren’t very touchy or lovey. Many people feel like they came from what would almost be called a sex-starved environment. And then they get out in the world and things happen. You know, we get abused or we get shamed. We date and things happen. Maybe we have unplanned pregnancies or we contract an STI or, you know, it’s scary. We’re taught to be almost afraid, “Don’t get pregnant. Don’t get an STI.” But nobody ever tells us about how to make love, how to connect, how to keep, you know, your marriage bed in a really happy place. And so, we have a longing and a fear around sex. And many, many people, they feel like they’re not enough or they have body shame issues, or they don’t think they look pretty down there. There’s just so much many things that can get in the way of having that deep, connected, loving, passionate relationship with your partner.

And I think, for me, it started… Gosh, I just remembered this, I think the catalyzing moment where I…and the very beginning of what happened to turn me from a successful Silicon Valley Executive into a sexpert, was the day I was standing outside on the front step of my Silicon Valley mansion, having had incredible financial success and entrepreneurial success in business. And there I was, standing there with my little girl, and she was six years old. And she was rubbing her little blanky on her lip. She liked to take the little satin edge of her blanky and rub it on her lip when she was nervous. I could always tell when she was… It was her little, like, poker tell when she was nervous. She was rubbing it on her lip. And my husband was in his SUV, was all packed up, and he was gonna drive down the driveway, and she said, “Daddy, are you still gonna be my daddy?”

Like, oh, and I mean, I tell you that right now, and it literally, like, my whole chest gets coated in upset feeling from thinking that I was on the edge of ruining my little girl’s life and losing my husband because we had grown apart in the last 11 years. The first 11 years of our marriage, we had stopped being intimate. I didn’t really want him. I wanted to want him, but I didn’t want him. He was so mad at me because I didn’t really like to have sex with him anymore. And he was very emotionally checked out. And he was gonna drive away and go to a hotel, and we were gonna proceed with a divorce. And I thought, “What am I doing, man? How did I get here? How did I get here? This is not right. I don’t want this to happen.” I loved him, I just didn’t want him. And if I only knew what I know now, I could have really prevented it from happening. Really, my whole career, the last 15 years, have been devoted to helping couples not get to the point that I got to that day where he was about to drive down the driveway and out of my life, and I was gonna ruin my daughter’s childhood.

And we just didn’t know what we didn’t know. We said, “All right, let’s not do it. Park the car, don’t drive away. We can’t do this.” And we started to go to therapy. And then we went to sex workshops, talk about edgy. I would have a meltdown in the car on every trip to a workshop. We did these human awareness institute workshops, and ecstatic loving workshops, and orgasmic meditation workshops. And we really wanted to try to figure out how to rekindle our relationship in the bedroom because we were great friends, we were great parents, we had an incredible life together, but we were living as brother and sister. And really what had happened was I had sex with my husband for a decade, and I never had a climax during intercourse. And if you hear about this thing called… Have you ever heard of this thing called the orgasm gap? Have you heard that saying, or phrase, or concept?

Katie: I’ve heard the term, but I’m not totally familiar with the meaning.

Susan: The orgasm gap is that over 90% of the time, the masculine, if you will, the penis owner, he has a climax from intercourse, but less than half the time some women are able to have an orgasm from intercourse. So, you go for a decade having intercourse with your partner and never having experienced, you know, a climax from it. And how long do you wanna do that? Like, my limit was 11 years. I didn’t wanna do it anymore. It wasn’t good for me. It was great for him. He didn’t understand why I didn’t want to have sex. And I didn’t know what I didn’t know. So, we said, “Well, let’s figure it out. Let’s learn.” Because what I’ve realized since then is that orgasm is a learned skill. So many women are ashamed or they feel not enough because they can’t have an orgasm or they’re not sure if they’re having one, or they have one but only in a certain way, or only with their vibrator, or only once in a while. It’s elusive. And what I’ve come to learn through all of the work that I’ve done is that all you have to do is know how to do it and someone just has to teach you how.

And so, I’ve devoted the last decade of my life to teaching women and their partners, how to have, not only one kind of orgasm, but 15 different kinds. Our bodies have unlimited orgasmic potential, and so do our partners. Men leave a lot of pleasure on the table. They don’t seem to be as upset about it. They seem to be happy with their kind of go-to strategy. But us women, we have so many ways we can experience orgasmic bliss with our partner. And nobody teaches us how and you certainly won’t see it on pornography. I am a very, very, very vocal detractor of pornography. I think it’s degrading to women. It doesn’t teach the right things. It’s not emotionally connected. And so, I really like to show people, give them techniques and ideas about, “Okay. Here’s what you actually need to do to achieve that pleasure.

You just didn’t know that you were missing some of these parts of the arousal experience and you weren’t quite sure how your genitals worked.” So, what I do is I just teach people all these different ways to do what I call bridging the orgasm gap or I like to call it “Crossing the gasm.” You know, because we can have as many orgasms as our partners if we just know how to do it. But we just need to learn that there are people out there like me that can teach these things. And I give away most of this stuff for free. I love to give, give, give, give, give, give, give and do very well, just giving away lots of techniques. And so, that’s what happened for us, but there was another issue, too.

And that is that, when I was young, I was sexually abused by my stepfather. And then when the first time that I lost my virginity, not the first time, the only time, the first time I had sex and lost my virginity, I got pregnant. And it was very, very… I was 19 years old and I had an abortion. And I knew that was the right thing for me, at that time, but I had a lot of loss and sadness over that. And then I had a time when I dated a boy and he almost raped me., and I felt very afraid of men. And I had a boyfriend one time who I had sex with and he kicked me out of bed and said, “Get your clothes and go home. I’m never going to call you again. You’re no good in bed.” Oh my God, I mean, I had so many wounds that I was carrying around, that even when I married my husband and I loved him, and I loved our lovemaking, it was so repetitive. And I wasn’t really having a great experience with it, that when the new relationship energy wore off, and I had all that kind of, like, trauma I was carrying around, that between all the trauma I’d experienced and the lack of orgasmic pleasure I was having in my marriage, I just didn’t wanna have sex anymore.

So, we went to therapy and he went with me, and we unwound all the trauma, I had a great therapist, and my husband was by my side every step of the way. And I was able to come to compassion about what happened and about my perpetrator, my stepfather, and I felt forgiveness for him, and I let it go. And I moved beyond it, instead of stuffing it. And I learned skills from these workshops. And all of a sudden my sex life with my husband became alive and on fire. And I found my feminine fire. I was having incredible pleasure with my husband and I. We just thought, “Oh my gosh, why doesn’t anybody teach these things. All our friends are dropping like flies. They’re all getting divorced. And it’s not the finances, it’s the sex. It’s the lack of good sex.” He’s gonna go get another younger girlfriend and she’s gonna get just as bored with him. And he’s gonna have multiple divorces and re-marriages because they didn’t know what they were doing because there’s no place you can learn to have heart connected, passionate lovemaking.

So, that’s how I ended up here, 15 years later, as the trusted hot sex advisor to millions, married 26 years, never more in love, never had better sex, totally love my husband. And I teach people how to find that themselves, how to understand the anatomy, and arousal, and libido, and desire, and sexual health and it is the most rewarding thing. You know, your greatest wound becomes your greatest gift.

Katie: Yeah. Absolutely. And that’s interesting that you said it was about 11 years in for you guys. It seems like there is something between that 10 to 15-year mark of marriage where… I hear this story from a lot of people from a lot of friends, that there seems to be a change that happens for a lot of people, at that point. Why do you think that is? Do you think it’s just, like, for you, all those years of it not being what it could have been and getting disillusioned? Are there other factors that come into play in that time period or why does it seem like so many people may be hit that at the same time?

Susan: Well, there are a couple of stages of abject boredom and sexual dissatisfaction. It sounds horrible, doesn’t it? Yeah. The first one is about four months to four years into the relationship, the new relationship energy wears off. And then there’s that seven-year Itch, which some of us can keep going until about 10 years, but it’s really boredom. It’s just that orgasm gap thing where it feels great to him, so he wants to keep doing it. But you get bored out of your mind and you need more… As the female, you need more seduction. You need to be moved towards your pleasure. You need more arousal. You need to feel desire. You also simply get bored and you need just more excitement. You need it to be fun. It ends up being rather perfunctory, after a while, if you’re not learning new things together. Really, the interesting thing about libido is that it is your general health. And as you age, your gut microbiome gets messed up, you get more toxins in, your hormones start to decline. All those things are actually… You know, you’re not producing as much serotonin in the gut. You’re not producing as many hormones. If you’ve been on birth control pills, that’s tamped it down. You know, there’s just a lot of factors at a physical level that happens, and then desire at an emotional level.

You maybe have frustrations with your partner, or withholds, or you’re not really being honest, or they’ve maybe, you know, gotten a potbelly, or they’re not grooming themselves like they used to, or they’re dressing sloppy, or things like that, that make you less…you desire them less. So you’ve got kids and you’re tired. And your husband’s a little, like, I don’t know, rough around the edges. You know, he’s not showing up for you the way he did when you first got together. He’s not romancing you. Sure, you might have date nights, but he’s not putting the effort in on the romance side of things. You know, when was the last time he brought you flowers or, you know, things like that.

And so, that kind of pulls down your desire. And then because he doesn’t understand how to arouse a woman, because testosterone starts out already. You know, he wakes up horny, and you don’t. He’s got this morning wood and he would just be happy to have sex every morning, just intercourse. It would be great for him and he’d go on his merry way, but that’s not really what women want. We wake up in the morning, gaving to get the kids off to school, and a million things to do. And quickies, honestly, I am against the quickie. I stand for no quickies because our genitals, our female genital are urogenital structure. We have as much erectile tissue inside us, as our partners do on the outside. If you think about it, he’s an outie and we’re an innie. And he gets almost instantly aroused because the blood flows into his penis and he gets that erection, so his visual signal is, “I’m ready to go.” And that’s the thing with testosterone, it’s full speed ahead. It thinks it knows what it’s doing. It’s overly confident. It has more certainty. That’s why it never asks for directions, right? Even when it’s lost, it just thinks it knows. It’s overconfident. It’s cock shore, right? And estrogen is more eyes on everything. It sees flaws. It has more anxiety, naturally. It has trouble getting in its body. It’s in its head. And it’s bothered by things, that the room is too cold, his beard is scratchy, the sheets aren’t snug on the bed, the lighting is too bright, the music isn’t right or it’s too loud. You know, we notice everything. And so, we have a harder time settling in. It takes us longer to get aroused. Our husband doesn’t realize this because he’s full steam ahead. And he’s kind of immune to the little things in the room that take us out of our body and we notice.

And so, we get this disconnect, where over the years, you haven’t taken, or insisted upon, or known to make sure that you get enough physical stimulation, that you take a slow arousal and let your body, and let your desire come to you. We don’t start out horny. We need to be turned on. We need to give ourselves the opportunity to first relax, which is the beginning of arousal. And then to build our turn on and our engorgement, which is the blood flow to our genitals. We need to kiss and be held, and stroked, and loved first before our husband grabs our breasts or grabs our Yoni. That’s not right for us. But he doesn’t know because the first thing he wants you to do is grab his manhood. That makes him feel calm. And like, “Okay. This is good for me. I’m being touched where I wanna be touched.” If he grabs you that way, it contracts you. It’s not right for the woman. And so, most husbands don’t know these things. And so, you go on for a decade, getting manhandled by a guy, you know, who thinks he’s better than he is. Eighty-percent of men, think they’re above average in bed. Okay. That math doesn’t compute. So, if you don’t have someone showing you how to turn on slowly and giving you the chance to do that, how many times are you gonna wanna have sex? You’re gonna want to stop that after a while. And that’s what I think happens to a lot of marriages. And the fun goes away. You’re not learning new things together. And I’d love to tell you more about that, too, the way to kind of, like, rekindle it, if you will.

Katie: So, I definitely do wanna jump into how ways you can try new things and rekindle in the bedroom. But first, I just wanna drive home a point. You mentioned that, for you in that phase, you had trouble reaching climax from intercourse alone. And I think that this is probably a pretty common thing for women, but it’s not one that’s talked about very often. And I wonder if maybe women feel like alone or, like, something’s wrong with them when they’re not able to that because it’s a common theme, that they probably think that’s something normal to happen. So, I’m curious, is that common for women to have difficulty with that? And if so, are there ways to learn that or to make it still very pleasurable, even if that’s not the case?

Susan: Yes. Most women don’t orgasm from intercourse, only the lucky ones. It’s actually a learned skill. So, we are biologically wired to learn how to make babies. That’s slot A into tab B. And that works pretty well without anybody teaching us what to do. But what we’re not taught and isn’t easy to understand or doesn’t come naturally to us is having orgasms. There are 16 types of female orgasm by my count right now. And what I would call orgasms from intercourse or penetration orgasms, or PIV, is what a lot of sexperts call it, penis-in-vagina orgasms. I don’t like that one as much. That is one of the most learned types of orgasms that there are. And the best way to do it… Well, I’ll tell you that I have a series about how to do it. I explain all of the details of exactly what to do in a series of YouTube videos on my Better Lover YouTube channel. So, I can’t get into all of it on this podcast because there’s a lot of things because it’s different things for different women. But generally, the biggest issue is two things.

The first is lack of proper genital engorgement, which means, not enough time with getting your genitals massaged, and/or pleasured prior to intercourse. And then the second thing is lack of his skill in the thrusting and lovemaking side of things. He will tend to go immediately inside you. You won’t have enough engorgement. You won’t have enough blood flow. You won’t have enough turn on. You won’t have enough lubrication. And he’ll go too fast, he’ll go right in. And then he’ll go in and out, kind of like the piston in a car motor, rather than the teasing, short, shallow strokes, combined with longer, slower strokes, hip drops and pelvic fluidity instead of a stiff pelvis. He’ll do too much, too hard. He won’t give you breaks. He’s not really conscious of what his penis is doing inside your vagina. You’re kind of just holding on, if you will, unable to relax. There’s probably a lot of vaginal rigidity. There’s probably a lot of missing terms of endearment, and verbal appreciation, and encouragement. There’s probably lack of kissing and full-body touch, and things like that. The positions may not be comfortable for you. It might be that you’re rushing into it and you’re not propped up with pillows. The environment might not be right. You might not have enough application of good organic nut oil. I like coconut oil or avocado oil, organic oil added to the situation so that you’ve got a good glide. There’s just probably a lot of components missing that are preventing you as the woman from really surrendering to your pleasure and it feeling very good to you. But I can tell you that, if you lay in all of these types of things… And there’s nothing wrong with the desire for your husband, you love him, you’re not mad at him. He’s meeting you’re outside of the bedroom relationship values, that the two of you can learn how to make love in a way that is much more orgasmically satisfying for her and not just him.

Katie: That makes perfect sense. Yeah. So, what are some of the ways…? I’d love to hear both from your experience and now what you teach, just a few more ways that people can rekindle that. You gave some great suggestions on how to make sure it’s beneficial for both. But when people hit that time, where like that seven-year itch you mentioned, what are some ways to rekindle that and to make things feel alive again for couples?

Susan: The best way is to schedule erotic playdates. So, I didn’t say schedule sex because that’s one more thing to do, which is the last thing we wellness mamas need, right? The last thing we need as one more thing to do, “Service, my husband, boring.” And not to have any lovemaking out of shame, or mercy, or feeling like you have to, or duty, or anything like that, instead, scheduling erotic playdates where you learn new things together. Because your old dog needs to learn some new tricks. But because he’s testosterone dominant, he thinks he knows everything and he’s great in bed. So, you can’t tell him he’s not, but you can tell him, “Let’s try some new things.” And new things might be, “Let’s do a little role play.” Maybe it’s, you know, “Let’s play doctor and nurse,” and I’m gonna wear some little nurse outfit that’s super cute because that can be fun for some women. They like to dress up in sexy things and that makes you feel sexier. Or, “Let’s try a new position that we’ve never tried,” or, “Let’s make love in a different place,” maybe out in the backyard or something that feels a little naughty like, “The kids are all gone, let’s try the dining room table.” That can be really fun. Or, “Let’s learn a new skill together.” So, maybe an expanded orgasm practice or something like that. There are so many different ways that you can think about learning new things together. And the couple that plays together, stays together, especially in the bedroom. So, moving from, we’re having sex to we’re having erotic playdates, really gets you back into that new relationship energy that’s gone missing. And it helps your guy learn some new techniques that will make sex better for you. So, it’s a really good kind of ninja female technique that invites new learning without any blame game.

Katie: Another great tip. And I’m curious, though, I think that there’s probably another side to this as well, which is that whether it be through childbirth or, for my own experience, when I had Hashimoto and was really in the thick of it. Those things can really kind of tank your libido. And I know that there’s… I’ve talked on this podcast before a lot about that testing that needs to be done and definitely getting thyroid checked, and things like that, the physical side of libido. But what about for women who don’t even have, maybe, that desire to really do that? They don’t feel like their libido is there at all.

Susan: Yeah. Libido, desire, and arousal, they’re the three interconnecting circles. I like to think about it as the three circles. It’s called a Venn diagram, technically, the three circles, and then in the middle is a little heart, where all of that connects. Libido is, you’re feeling your physical body and its interest in making love. And when you’re ill, your vitality is diminished, and your sexual vitality is the same as your life vitality. You can’t feel passion for your sex life if you don’t feel passion for your general life. So, anything that’s essentially crunching down your physical vitality is also dampening your sexual vitality. So, ground zero for you is your gut, getting your gut moving, making sure your microbiome is working, making sure you’re pooing really easily and well every day, making sure you’re well-hydrated, making sure that your vaginal microbiome is in good condition. You know, a lot of women suffer from everything from like, and sclerosis to yeast infections to bacterial vaginosis to cystitis and UTIs and all of those kinds of things. We’re very delicate, our vulva region, our urogenital complex is very delicate. And so, we have to be in good health to have a libido. Your heart is beating, your libido is a beating heart too. And then desire is, are you in good shape with your partner? Are there any withholds, anything you’re mad about? That needs to get fixed before you can want them again. If you’re mad at them, you don’t want them. And then the arousal pieces, what I was talking about, giving yourself enough time to get fully engorged and turned on, and use good lube and, you know, learn new things, and actually learn some techniques, and things like that, that’s like the care and feeding of your intimate life.

And so, really, those three things have to come together to feel good. There’s another interesting piece that is, vaginal restoration. For a lot of women, after having a child, if they’ve had a severe scar or an episiotomy, some women get fistulas or varosoles, or things like that. They’ve had wounding or damage from a bicycle or horseback riding, or they’re starting to have incontinence, or they feel vaginal laxity, lack of tone. All of these things affect the vast amount of us females. And there are many, what I would call, vaginal restoration technologies coming to the fore now that are available to us, that are not surgical in nature. They’re not vaginoplasty or labiaplasty. They are almost what you would call lunch break treatments. Using CO2 lasers and RF devices intravaginally, up inside the vagina, that are similar to what you would do if you were having Fraxel or BBL, or an IPL or any of those kinds of things on your face, any kind of like… You know, you talk about photobiomodulation a lot on your show. So, you know, you’re using essentially, light to stimulate new growth. So, the laser is light that does subcutaneous damage to your vaginal mucosa, which is hormesis, which creates new growth in the tissue and re-colleganate the tissue and tightens and tones the vaginal canal, and helps stimulate the musculature to rejuvenate the musculature tissue to help with incontinence. And then there’s also RF devices on the outer labia and inner labia that can be done for older women who are getting a lot of loss of tone. And then there’s, of course, the O-Shot. Have you ever heard about the O-Shot?

Katie: I have. And I actually had someone who does it on the podcast a while back, and I have actually tried it myself. But please explain what it is for anyone who hasn’t tried it.

Susan: Oh, great. Who did you have on? Robin?

Katie: No. I had someone from GAINSWave down in South Florida.

Susan: Oh, great. Yeah. From GAINSWave. Right. So, that’s what you do. You get a GAINSave for your husband and a P-Shot, and use a vacuum erection device to reverse his natural atrophy because as men age, their penises shrink, they atrophy. We’re shriveling up as we age. And so, to reverse the natural atrophy, especially, if there’s been any health issues, you use the GAINSWave to knock the plaque off and then you get the blood flow again. And then you use the penis pump to open and pull that tunica albuginea up so that the chambers can fill with more blood and the P-Shot does that restoration of the tissue. It’s the same with the female, only, when we shrink, we get bigger, more open. Our vaginas get lax, they lose tone. So, his penis shrinks as your vagina gets bigger. It’s the cruelest cut, Katie.

And so, the O-Shot is actually PRP, platelet rich plasma from your own blood, same as the P-Shot for him, spun in a centrifuge and then the white blood cells are taken off, and the red blood cells are taken off, and you’re left with this healing broth, this golden broth of platelet rich plasma that has cytokines and healing factors that get injected. It doesn’t hurt. You’re numbed, injected into your clitoral structure, your clitoral structure being erectile tissue, and your urethral structure, which is your G-spot… It’s not a spot. It’s an area. And it’s actually a tube of erectile tissue that surrounds your urethra canal, which is where the urine flows out. Those structures, you inject with this PRP, and it rejuvenates that tissue. It regrows new clitoral tissue because over time we get sensation loss. By the time you’re 50, you’ve probably had 20% or 30% sensation loss from when you were 30 years old. It’s just a natural part of aging. But now, we have these regenerative therapies that we can use to bring back full function to our genital system from injury, childbirth, trauma, and aging. And they work really, really well.

Katie: Yeah. That’s super fascinating. And I’ve noticed even just, in my own life, like you said, that whole body approach, all of those things have to be in line. I don’t think maybe, for a lot of people, especially, people my age, those things may not even be necessary yet. But I do know this, for sure, when I eat clean, and I get enough sunshine, and I get enough movement, and I get enough sleep, those things all line up better, and my libido is definitely stronger. So, I think that’s really sage advice to really focus on all of those factors and, like any aspects of health, not look at libido as a thing in isolation, but look at it as part of your overall health. And that makes perfect sense.

Susan: Yep. It is just part of our life force.

Katie: I also wanna circle back and go a little deeper on the trauma aspect because I really appreciate you sharing so openly about that and about the pain in your past. And I know that, statistically, a lot of women have some form of sexual trauma in their past. I do have sexual trauma from when I was in high school. And I this is a very common thing. I have many, many friends who have been through some type of sexual trauma. And I know that that also may be a very personalized thing. And you mentioned therapy and things that helps you. But are there some general steps if someone has that in their past and is maybe willing to face it, that are a good starting point?

Susan: Yes. First of all, know that trauma has happened to probably 60% of men and women. Men are definitely equally traumatized. And trauma comes in many forms. It can come from someone doing something to you or shaming you. Trauma can come from lack of knowledge and the fear that comes from not knowing. It can come from health procedures, and not even necessarily gynecological procedures, but just general health procedures, where people are touching your body in ways that you did not give them permission to. It can come from, obviously, the dating world and the shame of things that happen there, whether it’s STIs or unwanted pregnancies, or mean people, or aggressive people. There are so many ways that trauma can happen.

And what I can tell you is a couple of things. The first is that, your partner is your greatest healer, that most people heal their traumas together as a couple. The second thing that I can tell you is that trauma is not just rational and that it’s primarily in your body, not as much in your mind… It’s in your mind, it’s in your psyche. You can talk about it. You can talk therapy out of some of it, but most of it is actually caught in your enteric nervous system. So, we hold a lot of our sexual wounding in our pelvic area, in our sacral chakra, in our womb, in our tissue, all that tissue that we have in us, in our pelvic area. And it needs to actually be touched to be released. That’s why G-spot massage is one of the most common somatic healing technologies, that we use body healing technologies when our partner can give us a general massage and stroke that G area right inside the vagina, right on the roof of the vaginal canal, right up in the top of the cave. It likes pressure and it needs release.

For many women, their vagina is very rigid and hard because it’s been traumatized and it’s kind of locked down. Their pelvis is locked down or they’re having painful sex. And every time they think about sex, it hurts before they even are entered. And all of this is just trauma waiting to be loved and released into and let go. So, there are things that trigger us. We get triggered. We feel unsafe. And that’s why having a lot of these kind of loving touch modalities are very important.

I also have a really nice series on recovering from sexual trauma on my YouTube channel with Arielle Giarretto. Arielle runs an organization called fullembodiment.org. And she is, to me, the preeminent sexual trauma healer in the world today. I have very good connections. And we did a series about releasing trauma, being the partner of someone who’s been traumatized, supporting your partner through healing. What somatic healing is, somatic healing modalities, how to release enteric upset and shame. And so, you know, we can’t go into all of it in a less than an hour of a podcast, but that’s a resource that I would send you to. It’s at betterlover.com. And you can just search trauma on my YouTube channel. And you’ll find a beautiful series that we did together on healing trauma together as a couple.

I mean, we went to therapy, but it was my husband that healed me, as he began to massage me and release all the things that I had withheld and buried in my womb. Sometimes things would erupt out of me like… It would sound like the Wicked Witch in the scary cottage of “Hansel and Gretel,” where I would go…and make all these weird sounds that just erupted out of me as he was stroking that G-spot area. Or I would squeal like a hyena or I would roar like a train was coming through the room. I mean, and I would cry. He would hold me after that massage. And I would cry, and cry, and release, and release. But he just held me in his safe masculine container. And he just let me let all that go. And as I let all that go, then I began to feel pleasure. And that was really what allowed me to begin to have those orgasms from intercourse because now I’d lost all that armoring that I’d had, all that emotional armoring that had shut me down, and locked me down, and I released it all. And I began to release and release, and then I could connect with them. And when we made love, I didn’t dissociate. I didn’t leave my body. He’s kept me, “Look me in the eyes, baby, I’m right here. Everything’s okay, I’ve got you. Do you need me to stop? Do you need me to slow down? Let’s take a break.” And he just healed me from all of the injustices that had happened to me in my lifetime.

And that’s how I got from shut down, about to lose my marriage, to lose my wonderful husband and to ruin my daughter’s life, and my life, and to be alone, to start over, and to not have that happen, and to go on, to heal, and to go into the upward pleasure spiral where lovemaking just got better and better. And we so changed that we wanted to bring this change to other people. We wanted to make all this information available to everyone in the world who could find us. That’s the beauty of the internet. I mean, I’m not able to put these things on Facebook because Facebook, they’re just, like, nothing about sexuality. Even sexual health, no, no, no, nothing, nothing, nothing. It’s actually hard to find this information. But YouTube luckily lets me keep a channel that I can teach people things. And my sexual vitality summit is available to people for free because the healing is out there. The knowledge is around. And I just really appreciate you giving me the time to come on to “Wellness Mama” and touch the people in your world with the possibility of healing, and connection, and pleasure.

Katie: I’ll make sure we find those links as well and put them in the show notes at wellnessmama.fm. So, if you are driving or exercising, don’t worry about trying to write that down or keep it in your phone. Those will all be at wellnessmama.fm, so you can find Susan more. Before we wrap up, there’s another topic that is just timely for me right now as I’m under a month away from having a teenager myself is just the thought of how do we hopefully teach our children a healthy and positive attitude when it comes to sex? Because I think a lot of people… Like, I know I went into marriage with a lot of interesting attitudes about sex, but in including ones I had to work through about all the early childhood ones about sex being bad. That was taught, you know, when you’re young and you’re not supposed to be quite having sex yet. Like, I had to work through that at marriage, once sex was wonderful and good. But do you have any tips, especially, for the moms listening, and especially for our daughters of how we can raise them with a healthy, and realistic, and wonderful attitude towards sex and toward their bodies?

Susan: Yes. And thank you so much for asking about that. I actually have quite a bit of knowledge and experience in how to talk to our children about sex. And just to give you some kind of highlights about the approach. Yeah. We are traumatized by people scaring us about sex, “Ooh, don’t get near any semen, it’s bad for you. You’ll get pregnant,” and you know, “You’re gonna get STIs and it’s dangerous.” Our heads are filled with all these negative things. And then we don’t have names for our genitals and we’re not taught our anatomy and, you know, everything is just the negative, negative, negative. And so, we have to teach ourselves.

So, the one thing I’ll tell you is that, forgive your parents for not teaching you. They didn’t have the tools. It wasn’t the time. And when they tried to, if they tried to, you probably gave them a big eye-roll, and it was hard for you to talk to them about it. So, forgive them and move on, and know that it’s actually your responsibility, just like personal growth is your responsibility, just like continuing to always work on your health and making sure you are saving money and, you know, you’re getting your exercise and eating your vegetables. Your job is to open and expand your sexual potential yourself. It’s not your parent’s job, so let that go. Because what I find is people hold a lot of bitterness about that with their parents. And that’s unnecessary, so forgive your parents.

The second thing is, children wanna know very early on what the anatomical parts are between boys and girls. And so, it’s very nice to tell them about, “This is called your vulva. These are your labia. You have inner and outer labia. You have something called a vaginal canal. You have something called a clitoral structure. A boy has a penis. He has testicles. They’re in a sack called a scrotum. You know, he has something inside called a prostate. There are lots of interesting parts, but we all started out the same. We all started in the womb as little girls, but then about 8 to 16 weeks during gestation, half of us became boys, girls have innies and boys have outies. They fit together to make a baby.” What you do is you start with the simple things,”This is called your vulva. You have different parts. Boys is called a penis. He has different parts.” And then you layer in extra pieces, “And then here’s how babies are made. The penis goes inside the vagina and something called semen comes out that has sperm inside it, that fertilize a little egg inside the girl, that grows inside, her belly gets big, it comes out her vagina, and that’s how you get a baby.” Right.

So, you teach them those kinds of things. And then later you talk about, “Sex is a beautiful thing between adults. It’s something that you share. It can be a really sweet emotional connection. It’s like your best friend with benefits.” So, you know, you start talking about the emotional aspects. And then you start saying, “You always wanna honor that you should only do what you wanna do. You’re in charge of your own sex life. You never do anything you don’t wanna do. If someone’s pressuring you, here’s what you do, you call me or you leave immediately. No one owns your body, but you.” You do the body safety pieces. And then as they start to get a little older, you say, “There are some things you have to watch out for in sex. You wanna be careful not to get pregnant. When you’re ready, we’ll talk about contraceptives. I recommend non-hormonal contraceptives. I’ll teach you all about that when we’re ready. And we’ll also talk about safe sex and setting your boundaries, and having agreements about what you’re willing to do and what you’re not willing to do. And I want you to feel comfortable talking about sex. And then, you know, you go into more and more details about all these things. And what I find is that, over the years, if what you do is you just drip, drip, drip, you know that…

What’s that phrase about how the river always finds its way? It goes under, it goes around, it goes over, drips, drips, drips to find its way to the ocean, that’s what you’re doing with your child. You’re taking them on a journey, one drop at a time, so that… Their sexuality isn’t something where you sit down and have the talk, you’ve just always been having those conversations with them. You’re just layering knowledge. And then you also get some good books and you put those books in your family library, and you say, “I bought some books about human sexuality. There is a resource for you. Anytime that you’re curious, you can always ask me, but you can always refer to books as well. And they’re there when you’re ready.” And then the kids can go take them and look at them when they’re ready, when they have the curiosity in the knowledge. So, I think the combination of always layering in more info…

And when your kids are teenagers, when you’re driving them someplace, just drop one little thing, and then be done. Let it soak in for them and don’t expect to have a conversation about it. Just give them a little interesting fact, without them having to talk to you back about it. So, it’s not a two-way conversation unless they wanna make it that way. That’s also good advice for how you talk to teenagers who are resistant to everything you say because that’s their natural process of individuation. It has nothing to do with you. That’s how the individuate. So they have to. They’re compelled biologically to negate what whatever you say. That’s just them growing up, so you can’t take it personally. So, those are some of my little tips and techniques about that.

Katie: Those are great. And I can’t believe our time has already flown by so quickly. But a couple of quick things I love to ask at the end, the first, is there a book or books that have really impacted your life. If so, what they are and why?

Susan: I would highly recommend the “Women’s Anatomy of Arousal” by Sherry Winston. Sherry is one of my mentors. And she talks a lot about that piece that I want all women to know more, which is how we experience arousal as different than the masculine, the pussycats versus the puppy dogs. And learning about that, a “Woman’s Anatomy of Arousal” by Sherry Winston is an amazing book.

Katie: I will make sure that is linked in the show notes as well. And any parting advice you wanna leave to all the women listening today?

Susan: Yes. Demand the time that you need and the sensation that your body craves in the moment when you have connection with your partner. Stop doing what you think you’re supposed to do and listen to your body, and clue your partner in about what she needs and honor your Yoni.

Katie: Awesome. And Susan, you mentioned quite a few of your resources, but I’ll make sure those are all again linked in the show notes at wellnessmama.fm. So, anyone listening, you guys can find Susan, and continue to learn from her. But thank you so much for being here today and sharing your story so vulnerably and openly, and sharing what you’ve learned with us today.

Susan: Thanks, Katie. My pleasure.

Katie: And thanks as always to all of you for listening and for sharing your valuable asset, your time, with both of us. We’re so grateful that you did. And I hope that you will join me again on the next episode of “The Wellness Mama Podcast.”

If you’re enjoying these interviews, would you please take two minutes to leave a rating or review on iTunes for me? Doing this helps more people to find the podcast, which means even more moms and families could benefit from the information. I really appreciate your time, and thanks as always for listening.

Source: https://wellnessmama.com/podcast/susan-bratton/

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jessefferguson · 5 years

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52,560 Hours Is A Long Time

After the final episode of the VEEP aired the other night, I was wondering how long it had been on the air. I realized it was just wrapping its first season on the day in May of 2013 when I got the results of my first biopsy and confirmation about my disease.

2,190 days ago today – 6 years – I sat in a sweltering doctor’s office waiting for the results of my first biopsy. Since then, I’ve had 6 or so more biopsies, 5 surgeries, more than 75 rounds of drug therapy, 45 days of radiation and more tests than I’d like to think about. But in those 6 years, none of them is seared in my mind like that first one. I was 32 then. I’m 38 now. And, as I see 40 on the horizon, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about how life would have been different if that biopsy had been different. 72 months or 52,560 hours. No matter how you slice it, 6 years is a long time.

My Thinking

Right now, work and life are good. My health is health – it’s never good but it’s not bad, either. It is what it is.

I’m at the age where it feels like 99% of my Facebook feed is filled with the family milestones of my friends -- having kids, first steps, first days of school. Occasionally when I see those, I wonder how my life would have been different if things had gone differently 2,190 days ago. Who knows. I can’t identify a direct impact of something I did or didn’t do because of cancer. There’s no clear thing I didn’t get to do. The only thing that’s known is that it’s unknown.

My work is a huge part of my life -- as anyone who knows me can attest. I’ve never been one for ‘work life balance’ and I’m not really a stop and smell the roses type. I’m more likely to wonder how those roses would look in a candidate photo shoot or whether they’ll be around after global warming. I started working in national politics just under 10 years ago, which means that most of the people I’ve worked with in those 10 years have known me as “Jesse with Cancer” longer than as just “Jesse.” That’s weird to think about.

2018 Election

As I’ve previously written here, on election night 2016, I staggered around Manhattan for a few hours to just think. At the conclusion of it, I got home and went back to work. On election night 2018, I feel like some of the work paid off. I spent most of the last 2 years as a general consultant on a variety of projects – doing issue campaigns, ad campaigns, polling research and independent expenditures. I was very unsure what I’d be able to do after 2016 – with the loss in the election and the reality of my health. While I wasn’t able to do everything I wanted, I continue to enjoy what I do. On most days, it’s what I wake up in the morning thinking about and what I go to bed at night worried about. I still get to spend most days wearing slippers and sweatpants at a standing desk in my apartment.

Over the course of the two years, I have probably advised about $45 million in programs and groups but, most importantly, was able to do it without ever having to put a tie on. I’m glad. I hate wearing ties. That’s especially good news because I have a tube in my neck that lets me breath – so I can’t wear a tie even if I wanted to.

Not all of my work was directed at the 2018 election, but a lot of it was. When I saw Nancy Pelosi get sworn in as Speaker of the House, it definitely put a skip back in my step – restoring a bit of my faith in democracy. But, also, my faith in myself and my ability to help with things even while balancing it with my health challenges.

It felt especially good to see her get sworn in because she was the one – 6 years earlier – who had told me to get on a plane and go see the doctors at MD Anderson in Houston. Those doctors ended up saving my life.

I didn’t go down to DC for her inauguration, though. I could make up a lot of fancy excuses why I didn’t go, but, to be honest, I would have needed to wear a suit & tie. C-SPAN works just fine.

How I Ruined One Of My Favorite Shirts

Even as I work, health concerns creep up. I’ve had a tracheostomy tube since 2015 when they put it in for that pesky reason that it’s good to be able to breathe. Anyone who has had one can tell you there is occasionally some blood in it – that’s normal. It’s a foreign object that doesn’t belong there.

After the last few years, I’m not a ‘run to the hospital’ kinda guy – I’m used to most of this. But by 2 am on Sunday, January 5th, 2019, it was clear there was a problem. Throughout the day that Saturday, it had gone from a little wisp of blood to blood soaked. At one point, I coughed in my bathroom and blood splattered all over the mirror above my sink. Probably time to find a doctor.

I packed towels and tissues around my trache and jumped in an Uber. The car had nice leather seats. I was worried I’d stain them. By the time I got into a hospital gown, the flannel shirt I was wearing was blood-soaked. One of my favorite shirts went into the trash can.

Even at 2 am, the staff there mobilized to figure things out. We did some tests and cleaned some things up. It helped. Out of an abundance of caution, they changed the tracheostomy tube to one that more securely protects my airway but doesn’t let me make any sounds – I can’t speak. That’s always been my worst fear since I got the tracheostomy. I talk for a living. It’s possibly my only redeemable skill.

Over the years, I have gotten really good at working from a hospital: I know where to tell them to put the IV so that I can still bend my arm and type on my laptop. The food tray makes a great computer desk. I know how to talk on a conference call while shielding the beep-beep noise if a heart monitor makes noise. I know how to take over the visitors’ reception area on the floor in the hospital after hours and turn it into a mobile office. If the Russians ever figured out to bug my various infusion rooms and hospital beds over the years, they would have figured out quite a lot about the Democratic Party.

I was in the hospital for about 10 days. The good news is that they have a delightful short rib on the menu and pancakes for breakfast, so I was fine. Oh, and about ½ way through my stay, they changed the tracheostomy back to one where I could talk. That was good news too.

It healed up. I took an Uber home. Since then, it’s not given me any real problems.

Problems like this sometimes creep up; they’re part of everyday living. In the moment, they seem terrible but in hindsight it’s just the way of things now.

The Hardest Day (GayleNation)

I sat in the way back of the Howard Theater that weirdly cold yet sunny day in Northwest, DC. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to sit through that service so I sort of wanted to hide in the back. It was harder than I thought. Half-way through the service, as I watched friends, colleagues and even former bosses (and popular vote winner) give their eulogies, I had to walk out. I made it look like I was going to the bathroom but I really needed a few minutes of air. That was the hardest day of this last 12 months -- November 10, 2018, when we said goodbye to my friend Tyrone Gayle.

I remembered the night he called to tell me about his diagnosis. He knew what I’d been through and he asked for advice. I didn’t really have anything useful to say. We talked about whether it was a nightmare, I tried to make the case it was more like a bad dream.

I grieved the far-too-early passing a friend. I was sad to think he wouldn’t be part of my life and had only begun to reach his potential. But cancer had been the cause for this funeral – a young man taken at age 30. Many people were devastated with the news of his passing; many were as close and some even closer to him than I was. It was a hard day for a lot of people. I imagine my thoughts that day might have been a bit different than other peoples’.

I can’t believe that was six months ago. He was 8 years younger than I was when he died and he was diagnosed 3 years after I was. He had worked for me in 2013 when I was diagnosed and worked with me in 2016 when he was diagnosed. Whenever you have cancer and you hear about someone else with cancer, it’s difficult. When you hear about someone younger, it’s worse. When I heard about this – and when we lost him – it wasn’t so much a gut punch as it was a gutting.

Tyrone has passed away in late October of 2018 but they planned the memorial for after the midterm election. As the planners knew, Tyrone would never have let us take focus off the election to focus on him. A lot of tributes have been said and written more eloquently than I could about him – about his work with Tim Kaine, Hillary Clinton and Kamala Harris. He had an infectious optimism and an unrelenting drive. It was always weird up to look to someone who was more junior than you are, but I did.

After the service, many of the attendees got together at a local bar to continue the tribute. I saw friends from all walks of my life in Washington, but I ghosted on my plans for the rest of the night.

I sat in my hotel room that night and thought for a long time. Some thoughts were the normal ones -- how he’d be missed and what a void he’d left. But then, in my situation, the mind wanders to weird places. You start asking questions like “Why him and not me?” You think about what the differences could have been – He was younger. Did I get better treatment? Was my disease less severe? Why him and not me? You realize there isn’t a reason, that it’s fairly random. And you feel thankful and lucky because the lot didn’t fall on you. But you realize you shouldn’t think like that about the dear friend you just lost, so you push that thought as hard as you can out of your mind. But sometimes it creeps back in and you feel guilty when it does.

In the end of that night, though, I went to bed with a weird feeling. It was a feeling of jealousy – a weird kind of jealousy. If a memorial service is a tribute to how you lived and who you touched, Tyrone’s was filled with more than 750 people -- people whom he admired and people who admired him. I started wondering what mine would be like. There was no way I could match him. Anyone with cancer who tells you they don’t think about their own mortality is lying through their teeth.

Where Am I Now?

This Tuesday, May 21st, is 6 years since I was diagnosed. This Friday, May 24th, I’ll hop downtown and get my latest treatment. We know the cancer is still in me; that hasn’t changed. But, generally speaking, we have it under control. Sometimes we have to deal with an issue here or there but it’s not creating life threatening problems.

I’ve been on the same drug trial since last year. I still go down to Sloan Kettering every 3 weeks for a 30-minute drug treatment. Two hours of work from the same hidden corner of the doctor’s office while they get the drug ready. I know all the nurses who have the Friday shift and they know me. Some of them even know the best places in my arms to start an IV line. The treatment doesn’t have any particularly problematic side effects. So, I’m not healthy but I’m not currently sick. It’s really more like a chronic condition.

For so long, cancer has been either something you’re cured of or something that kills you. More and more people like me are just living with it. Interferes with life, there are ups and downs, sometimes you need an extra treatment, or you ruin a perfectly nice flannel shirt. But, you live with it and you live your life.

At the bar after Tyrone’s funeral, I ran into his wife Beth. I had seen her throughout the day but had been avoiding her cause I didn’t think I could hold it together. Spoiler alert, I didn’t hold it together.

As we talked, she told me something that I truthfully already knew. She told me if I didn’t keep fighting to keep myself healthy and keep fighting to do what I wanted to be doing, that Tyrone would have kicked my ass.

p.s. If you have interest, learn more about the memorial scholarship fund in Tyrone’s memory and make a contribution.

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berrynarrybanana · 7 years

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luckiest by far // nh

warnings: mentions of a car crash and some minor injuries but nothing too gory; domestic niall as a future father and amazing husband, cute stuff about clothes

A/N: i said in the tags of this picture that i would write something about that damn shirt and it may have taken a little turn and become a oneshot but i wrote about that shirt, honestly it looks so good on him

Being pregnant didn’t leave many options for fashionable clothes.

Maternity clothes were ridiculously expensive and you didn’t want to invest in a wardrobe you’d only get to wear when you were knocked up. So you bought some larger clothes and stole a lot of Niall’s clothes that he only wore occasionally. There were a few staples of his that you stole, his plain cotton shirts and a few pairs his bigger sweats and boxers. He never complained when you wore his clothes, in fact, he encouraged it most times. You were doing a simple grocery store run, something that hardly required a runway ready outfit, but you were finding it hard to get any sort of outfit together. The bedroom looked like a mess and you knew Niall would have a fit, but you were frustrated.

Your bump had grown in the last week and you didn’t really have anything that was fitting properly. Your favorite flannel was too tight and didn’t sit quite right around your bump and your shirts were all a little too tight to wear on their own. You’d tried on some of Niall’s clothes that had always been big on him, but he’d always been so thin that he didn’t really need bigger clothes. You were at a loss, prepared to order your shopping online even though you disagreed with the whole ordeal, when a beacon of hope shone through the pile of clothing on the floor.

Niall’s old denim button up. He’d worn it all the time, the expensive fabric worn down. It was always a little baggy on his frame and you figured leaving it open with a plain white shirt and a scarf would work just fine. You just had to squeeze into leggings or some form of black pants to make the whole outfit work. It took you less than five minutes to pull the ensemble together, a red and black plaid scarf thrown on over your chest and neck to keep you warm and Niall’s baggy shirt fitting you perfectly enough to get you out of the house for a few hours. You’d pick up some things to wear until your bump grew yet again, a little something to get you through this next phase of pregnancy before you had to box it all again. You were forever thankful for the mommy blogs that told you not to waste your money on maternity clothes when you would just grow out of them. With your purse on one arm and phone in your hand, you were ready to go shopping. You pressed one hand to your bump, caressing it softly as you walked down the stairs to the kitchen to inform Niall.

“S’that my shirt darlin’?” He raised his brows, smirking as you looked down.

“Yeah,” You looked back up at your husband wiping down the counters after lunch. “I’m heading out to do some shopping.”

“Looks good on you,” He dropped the rag down to the counter, walking around the island to look over you. “Baby’s growing a bit, huh?”

“Like a little weed,” You chuckled, looking down at your belly as he pressed his hands to the side of it, leaning down to press a few kisses to your baby’s home. “Little thing is moving around like crazy in there.”

“Yeah?” Niall smirked, standing up straight. “I can’t wait until they kick.”

“Already deciding on which little league team to sign it up for, Horan?” You rolled your eyes as he shrugged, amused at your accusation. “Do you need anything from the store?”

“Might go with you,” He brushed his thumb over your cheek softly. “Don’t know if I want to let you out of my sight when you look this beautiful.”

“You’re laying it on thick today, aren’t you?” You snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Just making sure my wife knows how beautiful she is,” He defended with a soft giggle. “Can you get some crisps for me?”

“Any specific flavor?”

“No,” He shook his head. “Call me when you get home so I can carry everything in, don’t try to do it alone.”

“I will,” You nodded. “I’m gonna stop by somewhere to get some new clothes, it seems most of mine and yours don’t fit.”

“Alright,” He nodded. “Drive safe.”

“Always,” You nodded, leaning up to press your lips to his. “I’ll clean up the mess in the bedroom when I get home, okay?”

“What mess?” He watched as you retreated towards the garage door, a sheepish smile on your lips as you grabbed your keys off the small hook. “Darlin’ what mess?”

“Remember how much you love me,” You smiled wide as he crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows at your expression. “Also remember who’s carrying your child.”

“You’re a menace,” He shook his head, amused. “Don’t go passing on your messy trait to our child, alright?”

“I’ll try not to,” You giggled, winking at him as you opened up the door. “Love you, Niall.”

“Love you, too.”

You were really glad that you’d told Niall you loved him before you left home.

It might have been dramatic to think that, but as you were sitting in the hospital bed with a few monitors hooked up to your arm and your belly, you were thinking about how quickly things can change. In the blink of an eye things can be ripped away from you just as easy as they were given. It wasn’t your fault, the police had repeated that to you over and over. The car had come out of nowhere and ran right into the side of your car. It was completely totaled, the doors ruined and the axis cracked. Insurance would cover it, sure, but there was no way they could fix the fear that was taking over your body. Your baby was fine, moving around like nothing had happened at all, but you were traumatized for lack of a better word. Paralyzed with the fear that you could have lost your baby today, your own life maybe if things had been just a little worse. You were bruised up a little, your arm sore and put up in a sling due to ache in your elbow and your shoulder. The car had crunched so loudly, and you were pushed aside like a rag doll. Glass had flown everywhere and you were cut up from the little bits that had flown around you. It was all so intense, yet insanely fast.

You were sitting there in the hospital bed, waiting. Waiting for a doctor’s approval to leave, waiting for your husband to be delivered by someone. You didn’t have the nurses call him directly. He’d be far too frantic for any kind of driving or interacting with people. You had them call up one of your mutual friends, someone who was basically family at this point. Tim had promised to pick up Niall and to inform him that you were perfectly fine. You didn’t want Niall to worry on his way there. You didn’t want him to be distraught and afraid, his mind racing with a million scenarios. You told Tim to tell him it was just a small fender bender. You couldn’t seem to gather your thoughts now that you were alone in your little room, waiting. You were just busy staring at the walls covered in little infographics, charts and signs. How bad was your pain on a scale from one to ten? What are the symptoms of diabetes? But nothing could keep your attention for more than a second. You felt like a deer in headlights, like you couldn’t quite move or get your feet under you. You were lost in this universe where everything was quiet, at a standstill of sorts. But when you heard the sound of your husband outside your door, his fresh and new dark hair flashing in front of your eyes. It all focused.

“A fender bender?” Niall was never afraid of anything, but you could see in his eyes he was hesitating to grab you up in his arms and squeeze you. “Fuck, your car was totaled, darlin’. Why did you tell Tim it was a fender bender?”

“I-“ You stuttered the word out, looking at Niall’s crystal blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The dam broke then, your whole body shaking softly as he cooed. His arm wrapped around the good side of your body, pulling you into his chest as he reached up to cup the back of your head. Your hands reached out to grip his jacket, pulling him closer to you as you sobbed into his shirt. He soothed you, brushing his hand over the back of your head as he gently talked to you. It was like you couldn’t hide how you felt when you were around him. He’d always had this effect on you. It was like you could hold it all in when he wasn’t around, like you could put on a straight face and go about your day like nothing had ever happened. But the moment you looked into those eyes you were a goner. It was like he could see right through your brave face like he somehow knew something wasn’t right without ever having to even ask.

“Alright,” He said softly. “Why are you apologizing? Someone ran into you, you didn’t do anything wrong at all.”

“I told Tim to lie to you because I didn’t want you to worry and my car is totaled and all of our food is probably gone!” You rambled out. “I could have lost our baby, Niall, why didn’t I see that car?”

“Listen to me, darlin’, this wasn’t your fault at all,” He brushed over your cheeks with his sleeves, his brows furrowed and a frown on his lips. “You couldn’t have known he would run right into because he was ignoring the law, you couldn’t have stopped it. As for the baby, everything is fine. We still have a healthy baby in there and you did a great job of keeping our little one protected I hear. The police said you were twisted round to that you took most of the hit. You saved our baby, darlin’.”

“Niall,” You blubbered out. “I just… I’m so scared.”

“I can’t imagine how shaken up you are right now, how it must feel to have been in that car,” He swallowed, looking over your body. “But you’ve got nothing to be scared of because you’re safe and the baby is safe and I’m here now. I won’t let anything happen to you if I can help it.”

“Thank you,” You whispered softly, leaning forward so that your forehead was pressed to his stomach. “I just want to go home and sleep.”

“We’ll be home in no time, darlin’.” He brushed his fingers over the back of your head again in a soothing manner.

“I got two bundles of bananas on sale and they were the perfect kind of ripe and I’m kind of pissed about it, you know?” You grumbled, wrapping your arms around Niall’s waist, his body moving between your legs as he tried not to laugh at your words. “Fucking idiot ruined my bananas Niall, this is no laughing matter.”

“I’ll get you new ones,” He promised. “Fuck, I love you so much Mrs. Horan, I don’t know how I ever got so lucky.”

“I think I’m the lucky one, Horan,” You smiled softly. “The luckiest by far.”

And even after all of the things that had happened in the last few hours, you did feel like the luckiest person by far. You had the best husband to pick you up when things were in pieces. How could you get any luckier than that?

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