Irondad fic ideas #151
There is a LOT of Iron Man merch out there. One day, Stark Industries comes out with a line of Iron Man themed night lights that look like arc reactors. The marketing? "For kids who are scared of the dark: Iron Man will protect you."
In completely unrelated news, a whole bunch of child abusers across the country have recently been arrested as a result of anonymous tips to local authorities.
Bonus:
It's an open secret at some point. Teens who are being abused start buying the night lights. Hell, adults start buying them. Charities pop up to cover the cost for anyone who needs it. Kids who are newly safe often send their night lights on to others ("I'm not scared of the dark anymore," they say).
Even with all of this, nobody snitches to the media or government. They all know grown-ups tend to complicate and ruin precious things.
It helps that the night lights clearly can distinguish between different types of situations. Kids whose parents need mental health or addiction support suddenly find they're being contacted by free services that actually help. If ICE is a concern, the people knocking on the door are not cops but immigrant rights activists. Kids who are hungry get food. Families who need housing support coincidentally find it.
"Iron Man will protect you," indeed.
This fic idea was inspired by this post from @fotibrit!!
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Previous // Next
Byrd: Teach us!
Juniper: Okay! First, you’ve gotta put your hands above your head.
Wren: Nuh.
Juniper: This part’s easy.
Byrd: Like this?!
Juniper: Just like that-.. keep them there and bring your foot up against your leg, like this!
[Byrd giggled, wobbling precariously as he mimicked his cousin]
Juniper: It takes a lot of practice-.. c’mon, Wren!
[Wren scowled, making a break for it; the only thing worse than dancing was being told what to do]
…
Having given up trying to reply to Alex’s latest letter, Robin stared listlessly at the star shaped stickers on his ceiling. He’d poured his heart out about how nothing ever went right, how he never fit in anywhere, how he was having a tough time at school-.. that he got in a fight, that he kept imagining what it’d be like if his parents died, particularly his father; he’d briefly considered asking what’d happened to her mother too but he’d thought better of the whole thing and viciously crumpled his pathetic attempt into a ball instead. Maybe he ought to burn it in the sink so no one else would read it by accident.
He felt bad that he hadn’t replied yet but he’d been in such a foul mood recently that he couldn’t think of anything remotely interesting or fun to talk about, and the last thing he wanted to do was bum her out.
He rolled onto his side as Wren stomped toward his door; it rattled familiarly as her little fingernails fiddled with the lock. Robin knew it was her because he could sense her current disdain, and she was the only one of his siblings who’d learnt how to do it-.. plus, if it were either of his parents, they would’ve knocked.
Wren: Juni’s tryna make me dance!
Robin: She’s not gonna make you do anything.
[Wren grabbed Robin and shook him with urgency, yanking at his hair with desperation]
Wren: I’m gonna hide in here, okay?!
[Robin sighed; reasoning with a six-year-old, especially Wren, was rather pointless]
Robin: Sure.
Wren: Wait-.. where’re you going?!
Robin: Does it matter? You’re safe in here.
Wren: Robinnnnn.
Robin: Get off me!
Wren: I wanna play!
Robin: So, play-.. just don’t delete all my saves again.
Wren: You do it! I wanna watch.
Robin: I don’t really wan-…
Wren: Pleeeeeeease?
…
Robin: I can’t play if you’re gonna squish me-.. get off.
Wren: Uuuugh.. I can’t, I’m stuck.
Robin: Move!
Wren: [gasps] What is that-.. kill it!
Robin: I don’t have anything to ki-…
Wren: KILL IT!
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rescue - whitney x gn!pc
"Fuuuck."
Being attacked was nothing new in this town, obviously, but that didn't mean it didn't suck every time. You sucked in a raggedy breath as you leaned your head against the wall, trying to remember if you were supposed to tilt your head up or down when you had a nosebleed.
You'd manage to kick your attackers off and send them scrambling away, but you didn't leave without injuries of your own. Your ankle hurt too much for you to move right now, so you sat in the alley and hoped it would feel better soon so you could hobble home before someone else came after you. At least you still had another pepper spray canister - Kylar was good for some things. You almost wished that he would find you here. He had that knife, and he was sort of caring in an insane way...
It was then that you heard more footsteps coming down the alleyway. You tensed up and held out the pepper spray. "Don't fucking come another step closer," you called out, hoping your voice wasn't shaking as badly as you thought it was.
"That's so cute that you think that could stop me," a familiar voice came. You almost jumped up in surprise, but your ankle gave out and you crashed back down to the pavement.
"You could just say hi for once, Whitney," you groaned, turning your head so he wouldn't notice the nosebleed. It always felt humiliating for him to see you like that, especially because he enjoyed seeing you so weak.
"Wouldn't be as fun," you could hear the smirk in his voice. "You look like shit, slut."
You groaned again and turned to face him, feeling blood drip from your nose. "Thanks. I had no idea."
A brief look of what seemed like panic flashed on his face before his expression settled into his normal smug look, making you wonder if you were just seeing things. "The fuck happened to you?"
You didn't answer. You thought it was pretty obvious.
"Who did it? Where'd they go?" He looked around, as if the attackers were still right there. "Messing with my fucking property..."
"I don't fucking know. It doesn't matter," you sighed. You really weren't in the mood to deal with him at the moment for obvious reasons.
He paused for a moment. "Stay right there, slut."
"Whitney -" you started, but he was already gone. Fucking great. And not like you were going anywhere in this state anyway.
It wasn't too long before he came back, gripping a bunch of crumpled-up napkins in one hand and a cup in another. Whitney squatted down next to you and set the cup on the ground. It was a milkshake.
You tilted your head, silently asking him why. He rolled his eyes.
"You've got blood all over your face. Grabbed napkins from the cafe, and thought I might as well get something out of this," he moved the cup so it was pressed against your ankle, providing sweet relief. At the same time, he leaned in and took a hold of your chin, gently wiping your face.
"Be a good slut and hold still," he murmured. The intensity of his stare made you feel frozen in place, anyway.
The tender way he touched you reminded of you of when you were little and Robin would fall and skin his knee. You would sit next to him with a damp towel and gently wipe at the injury, soothing his tears. It was a nurturing sort of action - not at all what you would expect from Whitney.
Once Whitney was finished, he grabbed the milkshake and leaned against the wall, taking a sip. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder and with the other, offered you the cup, which you took with a small smile.
"Where are your friends?" You asked. It was rare to see him without a gang following him.
Whitney shrugged. "Ditched 'em. Looked like it might rain." That seemed to be all you would get out of him on that topic.
You sat and idly chatted as you shared the milkshake. When it had been drained, Whitney stood up.
"Alright. C'mere. Let's get you home," he said, reaching out a hand.
"Huh?" You blinked in surprise. Whitney rolled his eyes again.
"I'm not gonna leave my best slut alone and injured in an alley. The fuck would that do for me?" He hoisted you up and wrapped his arm around your waist. "Put your arm around my shoulder. And don't put weight on your ankle."
You did as he asked, considering there wasn't much else you could do. Besides, his arm felt nice around you.
Luckily, you weren't too far from the orphanage, so the walk wasn't awful. Resting had helped a lot, and your ankle honestly was barely hurting anymore. But Whitney still held you up, and you let him.
He paused out front and gave you an odd look. Suddenly, he sighed and looked away. "Just...be more careful next time. I can't be your knight in shining armor all the time."
You frowned. "I mean, it's not like I asked you. You kinda just showed up."
He shrugged. "You were in my alley." He paused again before leaning in to kiss you. His lips tasted like vanilla and stale cigarettes.
Then he pulled away and slapped your ass. "See ya tomorrow, slut," Whitney smirked as he walked away. "I'm expecting an extra good thanks for saving your life and shit."
You couldn't help but smile as you watched him leave.
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