Summary: You think you need to hide your emotions from your family. Bruce decides to make it his mission to help you see otherwise
It was too much. Things had been going wrong all day, small things that would seem insane to be upset about if you told anyone. Wiping your tears with the sleeve of your sweater you decide to slip out for a bit. No one should see you like this.
It had started this morning. Your hair wouldn’t do what you told it to. You brushed it wet, meticulously styling it as usual with all of your products and it had still managed to dry frizzy somehow.
Ok, you can handle one bad hair day.
During breakfast, you spilled jam from your toast onto your uniform bottoms right as you were about to head out the door. As you grabbed your things to leave, Damian made an offhand comment that touched a sore spot.
That’s ok, he’s always like that, and the stain was small. No worries.
Before school, your friend rushed up to your locker in a panic. She had just started her period and didn’t have a tampon or extra uniform. You helped her, which made you late to first period.
Ok, you’d rather not have another tardy on your record but it was for a friend.
At lunch, no one had saved your seat. You went to your usual table where your group of friends usually sat, only to find someone else sitting there. Your friend apologized, saying that their other friend was tagging along today. You sighed, telling them it was alright before finding somewhere else to sit.
Why wouldn’t they save your seat today? They always save your seat. Ok, it’s ok. They didn’t mean anything by it.
The little things from the day started adding up and by the time you were finally back at the manor, you were exhausted. No one was home yet, and everyone had patrol tonight anyway so they would only stop by for a moment before leaving again.
You went up to your room to change, bringing you to where you are now. You quietly leave your room and go down the stairs. After navigating the long hallways you make it to the large doors that lead to the garden. You always loved to sit alone in the garden, the only things there to judge you were the insects.
You moved quickly towards the maple tree in the far corner of the area. Sitting under it with your back facing the manor, you look up to the moon. You can’t see many stars (thanks to the Gotham smog), but you always gaze up at the moon.
You cry to yourself until you lose track of time. You don’t hear the garden doors opening, and you certainly don’t hear the approaching footsteps until Bruce sits cross legged right beside you.
He turns his head to look at you, but you can’t quite meet his gaze.
“Why’re you hiding?” He asks, voice soft. When Bruce had come home from work, one of the first things he did was check on you. When he couldn’t find you and Alfred hadn’t known where you’d gone either, he realized there was only one place you would run to.
“I’m not.” You say shakily.
Bruce sighed. “Look at me.” He said, leaving no room for argument.
When you turned, Bruce felt his frown deepen. He hated when you felt like this because he couldn’t take it from you. He only wanted to help but you shut him out more often than not. He moved your hair behind your ear, his other arm wrapping around you and pulling you close.
“Sweetheart..” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head like he did when you were smaller. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Just like that, it was like he had broken the faucet handle. You began to cry into his shirt, tears staining the fabric. He didn’t say anything, only gently rubbing your back to try and comfort you.
When it’s out of your system your crying stops. You both were quiet, listening to the noise of Gotham mixed with your occasional sniffles.
When you’re done with your crying, you pull back and wipe your eye. You explain everything to Bruce and he listens. He doesn’t shame you for being upset over what happened, waiting until you were finished speaking.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. He’s not mad, but he’s a bit upset at himself that you felt you couldn’t come to him.
You shrug. “You were at work, and besides, it doesn’t matter.”
He looks a bit hurt at this. “[Reader], you know I would drop everything if you needed me, right?” It was true. Bruce was prepared to wipe his schedule if you ever even hinted at needing him. He wipes a tear that falls from your eye. “And anything that made you upset like this does matter.”
“I just thought- because it wasn’t that bad you wouldn’t care.” You confess.
Bruce furrows his brows and hugs you tighter. “You never have to hide from me. Not this.”
You sit there with him for a while. He’s going to be late for his patrol but that’s the last thing he cares about right now.
Because he would do anything for his daughter
And she believed it.
A/N: hope you enjoy this oneshot!!! Some comfort to thank you all for 100 followers!!!
I’ve had this idea for a hot second because the new DDBA season is coming out soon meaning DEX IS BACK!! He was my fav character when watching the OG Daredevil series right beside Frank Castle. So here’s a little burb… also random question! Do y’all ship Pagedexter or Kastle more?
Also also, the boarder separates perspectives. So, one is yours and the other is Dex’s.
Word Count: 1.7k
You’ve just started as an FBI agent in New York. You thought to yourself; new city, new job, new life! Before you moved to New York you’ve only lived in your hometown your whole life with not many opportunities. When you applied to be an FBI agent you initially thought you wouldn’t get the job, I mean you’re not even qualified for this job. But somehow they ended up accepting you anyways so why not… right?
The first day of work you walked into the elevator, dead tired from unpacking your boxes in your new… very small apartment. You were wearing a simple gray skirt, a blouse, and blazer. Normally you like showcasing your personality through your style whether that be through statement pieces or simply just jeans you found at the thrift, but today at a new job it might be better to just fit in instead of standing out. The last thing you need is to be a target. On the fifth floor the elevator abruptly stops although you’re supposed to have ended up on the twelfth. A tall man who looked about thirty steps in. He was very clean cut. Freshly shaven, perfectly styled hair, sharp cheekbones, but a hard almost scary expression adorns his face. He definitely has seen some shit in the past.
The man’s eyes pierce through you as soon as you look up to him. Jesus how tall was he? Six feet? More? Definitely more. You quickly look away to the closing doors.
“New here?” He asks. His voice sounded like smoke, dangerous but so addicting. Like a bad habit you can’t quite shake. You nod quietly in response but he keeps staring. His eyes are burning into your very being, making sure you’ll never forget the rising heat in your cheeks, the way your thighs shift when you feel his fingers brush yours from standing so close, the way your hands clutch your purse out of anxiety… out of excitement?
Ding!
Twelfth floor, you cue to exit. You practically run out away from him. Weeks pass and he seems to pop up more. He takes the same elevator you do when entering work and always somehow gets out of the office meeting you in the lobby as soon as you leave. He hasn’t spoken to you since the elevator conversation which is odd because of how often he seems to linger. But it’s just a coincidence… I mean you two work in the same building after all, you’re bound to run into each other.
Today as you’re walking out of work you’re more tired than usual. You stayed up late finishing some paperwork and barley had time to put on makeup this morning. As you felt your legs drag along the sleek floor you feel a solid wall slam into you where a wall shouldn’t be. As soon as you look up it’s the elevator man.
“I’m so sorry. Let me get that for you,” he kneels picking up some fallen papers that your bag happened to drop. God he was charming… this is the first man that you’ve met in this city that’s actually apologized when having a collision.
“oh! Thank you!” You quickly scramble to get your papers, snapping out of your own thoughts.
“I’m Dex.” He holds his hand for you to shake. His hands are calloused, no doubt from working in the field, but his grip isn’t rough or intimidating. You quickly smile telling him your name in return. Once you let go of his hands he neatly folds them in front of himself, maybe something all FBI agents pick up when working long enough.
“You going home?” He asks.
“Yes. Are you?” Your voice quieter than you thought it’d be… probably just nerves from the workday. He nods starting to walk with you. He has this air of mystery to him, like you can’t quite know what he’s thinking. The walk out of the building into the busy sidewalk is quiet. A stark contrast to the usual sounds of New York. As you keep walking he keeps following. One part of you asks yourself if you should maybe stop at a nearby coffee shop instead of leading a stranger to your home.
“So are you just gonna follow me like some creep?” You quirk your eyebrow, trying to make it come as a joke like intended but it ends up sounding even more rude than before. He surprisingly takes it well, laughing at your joke.
“You know New York isn’t safe for young women,” he ends up saying right back to you. It earns a well deserved chuckle from your lips. It makes Dex’s eyes light up. His smile tugs at the corners of his mouth making you feel a sense of warmth deep within your chest. Conversation easily flows after making you forget about your earlier worries.
As soon as I met you in the elevator I knew I loved you. I would always love you. I would make you see me. Realize what I already know, what you will eventually know. Your smile, so white and pristine keeps me up at night. I wonder if you ever had braces to make them look so perfect. So perfectly you to make me feel so in love.
Dex always was obsessive throughout everything that he did. He always needed a mission, perhaps why he joined the FBI, so he would always have something to do. When he met you in the elevator he was immediately entranced by you because of how calm, kind, and personable you were towards him. Soon after you got off on your floor he immediately went to his office turning his computer on. He’d never seen you before so he could only assume you were a new hire. But for which department? What did you do? Who did you work under? How could he optimize his time to see you at all hours of the day.
He logs into his computer immediately doing his research. He sees your resume pop up in a server he’s definitely not supposed to have access to. Your picture looks so perfect, so you. Your hair is smooth and put into an updo, keeping it neatly out of your face. Minimal makeup to look just professional enough and not like you’re going out later that night. Later that day he leaves his office early, pacing outside the elevator, waiting to see what time you finish working. He mentally jots down three fifteen pm. Every day he paces outside in the lobby, waiting for three fifteen. Every single day he notices you taking the same route home back to your crappy apartment.
“I could give you a better life. A better apartment. Make you never feel alone, or scared, or forgotten. I could love you,” he thinks to himself once seeing how there are holes in your apartment walls. How did he see this? Well when he follows you home he goes to the fire escape of the apartment next to yours, finding the right spot and angle that points directly into your bedroom window. Of course he thanks the gods that you forget to close your blinds, not because he’s some creep and wants to see you change. No of course not, because he wants to make sure you’re safe. That you’re taking care of yourself, because he already knows that the moment you’re having a bad day he’ll be there to pick you back up. Even if you don’t know it yet.
He quickly builds a schedule. Every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, he would ‘walk’ you home. On the weekends he would camp out in his car. He parked across the street with darkly tinted windows, just to ensure that you wouldn’t see him watching. He would wait until you exited your apartment late in the afternoon to follow you to the grocery store. Maybe he would ‘accidentally’ bump into you on the sidewalk as you’re carrying food back to your place and he could help you out. “Just a coincidence I guess,” he would tell you if he ever did decide to bump into you.
He memorized your routine. On Sunday’s you would go grocery shopping. You would pick up chicken along with other assortments of meat to meal prep into the week. You would pick up your favorite vegetables and snacks as well. Then on Mondays after work you would go home, starting on dinner. Tuesday’s you would go out for coffee, having one of your new friends walking you back to your place. Did he feel jealous? Yes. But he has to remind himself that it’s only natural for a girl like you to make friends in a new city like this. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t bite his tongue every time you talk to others instead of him. Wednesday’s you would go to the gym, doing some light weight training. He would be lying if he said he didn’t look at how your muscles pulsed through your skin as you pick up your weights. Thursday’s you would eat out instead of cooking. He quickly realized that you hated cooking, but on the days you would eat out you’d go to a local pizza place. For convenience most likely. But he knew he could make you whatever meals you wanted. He could cook, clean, please you in whatever way you asked. On Friday’s you would go out to bars. That’s when he got anxious. Seeing you barhop, casually flirt, wear those short skirts that perfectly hugged your curves. God it makes him mad that he isn’t the one you’re flirting with. Saturdays were normally calm days for you. A day to relax and refresh before the start of the new week. You would clean, wash clothing, read in your freshly made bed, and sometimes even bake if you were up to it.
The memorization of your week helped him make a plan. The moment you got out of work next Wednesday he would bump into you. He would scatter your papers. He would be the perfect gentleman, pick the papers up, flash a smile, introduce himself, shake your hand, pretend like he didn’t know you better than you did. He would make you fall for him.
A/N: I have been so damn stressed that this is the first thing I've written since I last published. So... I hope to post again soon but realistically with exams coming up so soon I don't think I'll have any time. As always any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!
probably rlly random but, your general thoughts on Ralph from Detroit Become Human?
General headcanons
Pairing: Ralph x reader (platonic or romantic)
Warnings: slight mentions of discrimination (against androids), but I think that's it!
A/N: Sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth (I am a sorrowful creature unfortunately). Thank you for leaving a request! I love Ralph, he is perhaps one of my favorite critters! Also, the hiatus actually might have been beneficial in this case, because I'm pretty sure I'll do more justice by him now than I would've last time I was actively writing. Hope you enjoy, and hope you are still into the DBH fandom eheh
look at him face!!!!!!! (*/ω＼*)
First of all, if you believe you could pursue any kind of deep relationship (be it platonic or otherwise) with Ralph right off the bat - you're crazy.
Since you are reading this, I am going to assume you have played the route where you meet this poor android (or if you're like me, you don't play it any other way hehe).
Nevertheless, you know what mental state he's in. I definitely do not want to insinuate in any way that he's less deserving of happinness or being loved. Definitely not.
But he's just not there for it mentally. His perception of his own self is warped, his trust towards humans has been shattered, he has no idea what he's doing, I'm pretty sure.
Ralph had spent so much time in survival mode, it would not surprise me if he had trouble getting out of it, relaxing, letting go of that fear and distrust.
He would have to go through copious amounts of therapy and get stabilised not only mentally, but socially as well, before it would be safe for either of you to even consider building up any kind of relationship.
However, once that he is situated in his own place, has some stable support, both financial and psychological, his personality starts to shine through.
If you befriend Ralph in this stage of his life, you will be there to witness him experiencing all the things life of freedom has to offer, as well as watch him flourish and become his own person.
Since he canonically worked as a gardener, I have no doubt he would love plants of all kinds. Gardening, landscaping, house plants...If he had a house of his own, his garden would be the most beautiful one in the entire neighbourhood. Every room would have as much greenery as it could fit inside and no plant would ever die, if Ralph could prevent it.
Now, maybe I'm biased, because I had once read an absolutely wonderful oneshot, the author of which described a scene where Ralph and reader were cooking and just...yes. Ralph would absolutely love cooking.
Anything domestic would naturally be something he gravitated towards if introduced to it. And with cooking, he can combine the simple homely act of making a meal and his favourite plants. A large part of his garden would be dedicated to growing his own vegetables, all kinds. His dream would definitely be to have an orchard of some kind.
His food would also be insanely good. Someone would have to teach him the basics, but ever since he's been given the chance to live as a free man, he has a lot of drive that propells him forward in everything he sets his mind to. There's, of course, still the desire to live like humans do, but now it's not out of necessity.
I think that, at least in the early stages of his independent life and healing journey, he would gravitate towards comfortable clothes and soft, cozy aesthetics. He had spent so much time in harsh conditions, hell, he had been a harsh man and he never wanted to go back to that part of himself ever again.
He'd definitely need to work thoroughly on his tendency to shut uncomfortable parts of life, and himself, out. It's almost a reflex at that point, his basic and very narrow understanding of what being a person is like. You either are bad or you are good. And Ralph would never want to be bad, would never want to resemble in any way those who had hurt him.
However, as he'd learn and broaden his idea of humanity, be it his own or in general, I feel like he'd get really curious about philosophy. He's not a genius or a great thinker, he was never meant to be, but he likes to read philosophy books and just ponder the claims made in them.
From those he would probably move on to self help books (he'd definitely be disappointed by the downgrade of the quality of the books tho). He'd read any that he could find, the good and the bad ones, going blind into most as to be able to really independently create his own opinion on it.
I can definitely see somebody seeing this small passion of his and recommending Ralph starts a blog about the books he reads. He doesn't have to show his face or really interact with anyone he doesn't want to, since there is still prejudice against androids, but he can share his thoughts publicly and build community.
And Ralph would love the sound of that. If he felt safe enough, he would be the first to volunteer for anything and everything going on around him in real life, if it meant helping out the people in his neighbourhood or the less fortunate, at least a little.
It would probably take a little while, given how written media is less popular in the future and that Ralph really isn't into advertising himself and his work according to modern advertising strategies, but he'd manage to create a pretty sizeable community of his own!
He loves to politely chat with people about the things he reads and the opinions he has on them. The internet is unfortunatelly a great place for degenerates and rude people as well, which he does encounter from time to time. Ralph's therapist says it's a good exposure for him to learn how to deal with hostile behaviour and learn to set boundaries.
Maybe he would even start getting some traction for his criticism of a variety of books, but I fell like he would never take the opportunity to make a living out of it or become more of an internet celebrity. In a few decades, he would be known as the mysterious but peaceful blogger that has made it into the subconscious knowledge of internet users, a part of internet history.
Moving back to the real world, the exposure training he'd get from dealing with trolls and haters will really help him prepare for getting a job. Lucky for him, he has you or his therapist to help find something he would like doing, but also make sure his employers won't completely exploit him (you share a chuckle about the idea of work being exploitative at its core).
I think he would either choose a profession where he doesn't have to interact with people much, like a national park ranger, a wildlife rehab worker or a caretaker of public greenery like parks, or he would choose a more social type of profession, but the kind where he only really interacts with one demographic, like a daycare attendant, retirement home nurse etc.
I think, to an extent, he wants to care for others, makes it his mission even. But not in the ways Marcus has decided to do so, through politics and widespread changes, rather he focuses on one or two fields that he dedicates his life to.
He is also a great friend and perhaps even a partner at this point of his healing journey. He is attentive, a great listener, gives great hugs and cuddles, or gifts and acts of service! Really a great person to have close, through and through.
His main love languages would, in my opinion, be acts of service and physical touch. Ralph loves to cook for you and pamper you from time to time (he definitely loves receiving such treatement as well, even though he doesn't eat). And he loves being close to his partner, or friends, doesn't matter what gender. He greets everyone close enough with warm, welcoming hugs and isn't afraid to show affection if the other person asks for it or if they need comfort. But like I said, if your love language is something else, he can adapt to that no problem. Even though he might not be the smartest, he has a great memory, so every little thing you mention liking, he carefully saves in his mind and so his gifts are always impeccable.
It is pretty clear Ralph's dream is to live "like humans do". Well, once he is stable, has a home, a job, hobbies, friends, and a lover, the only thing remaining is...starting a family of course! He can't really have children of his own and I don't think him and his partner would be able to adopt long after the events of the game (given that many governments still struggle to legalize adoption by same sex couples, even in this day and age) , so they would settle on a pet or a few.
Now, I can see this resulting in a few ways. Ralph would either get a bigger, longer living companion, a dog or a cat. A sweet golden retriever or a lab, which he would train and raise to be loving and playful, or perhaps a stray kitten he'd pick up and spoil to no end, giving it all the love it had probably been missing for so long.
Or he would choose a much smaller companion. I don't know why, but I see Ralph as a rodent lover. Mice, hamsters, rats, gerbils, bunnies, guiney pigs, all these critters, their beady little eyes, grabby hands and twitching noses. Whether he'd find a species that grows on him the most, or tries his hand owning each one of them, he would give them his 100%. A stunning enclosure, loads of attention, proper diet and medical, you name it.
In the end, I think "gaining" humanity, accessing conscience and freedom, makes Ralph a much gentler being than he ever could have hoped to be :)
(Hello I'm back from the dead and I'm sorry I don't know what to tw and it would be a big help to educate me on what to tw for further post thank you!)
-He hates 4th of July with a passion and forces Joseph, faith, and John (John still does fireworks in holland valley) to not celebrate it and will hunt down anyone in white tail who sets off even 1 fire work.
-He is an atheist who's only in the cult to protect his siblings because he has guilt that he never protected his siblings back then.
-Jacob has a whole library filled with books about war, guns, hunting and secretly has books like animal farm, crime and punishment, metamorphosis, and slaughter house five. (Which are black listed in the cult blah blah blah)
-Jacob loves John but tries to avoid him as much as possible because of how much of a snob he acts like.
-at first Jacob HATED faith and didn't trust her but more time in the cult he thinks she kinda alright but not really sure of her.
-Plays chess like a sport and loves playing board games with his siblings (john always gets pissy when he loses).
-He has a vinyl of the platters and only listens to 'only you' and just repeats it over and over again
-He is stuck in a soldiers mindset 24/7 unless he's with his family but he is still guarded around his surroundings and thinks that the deputy is gonna come outta knowhere and kill them.
-He wants a wife and kids but is too scared to become a worse father and in all honesty he doesn't want the responsibility of a child.
-He is a TRADITIONAL man he will still allow his spouse to go out and get like a small part time but he wants the wife to cook, clean, and take care of the kids (he helps if he isn't too tired)
-He breaks something on purpose and blames it on one of the soldiers in the flock just to have a reason to yell at them and have a reason to let his anger out on someone.
lee mood is so bad it hurts but im also afraid to ask directly for teases bc i feel i dont deserve to be teased and wrecked. i dunno maybe its just me why am i so depressed bro its not that serious...
ANYWAYS im happy i promise just lonely and i feel like im alone and deserve to be
kinda a vent no tws tho cuz its just me talking about a teacher who is not teaching next year
i have had this one history teacher for around 3-4 years. We are a tiny school, so he teaches all history. High school and middle school.
this teacher is genuinely the greatest teacher in the entire fucking world.
hes VERY passionate on what he teaches and hes overall amazing. hes funny and has a personal relationship with each students and we all call him "Captain".
He campaigned for presidents in the 90s, he sang a solo at a christmas choir in the Vatican in front of Pope John Paul III, he lived in Hungary for 2 years and speaks German and Hungarian, he has met most of the presidents (hes left winged btw) and studied Classics and Roman history in college.
Hes leaving this year to go to Vienna to get his Docrate in Classics.
Hes translating old hungarian fairytales that have never been translated
today was our last actual history lesson.
and everyone sobbed, including me.
when i tell you that this man has made an INCREDIBLE impact on my life. He made me start writing again, he let me know its okay to be weird. He gives me old books that he thinks i'd like, we discuss shakespeare and philosophy and politics and mythology
He was quite literally a real life Mr Keating.
We are doing ACT prep all throughout next week and next thursday will be the last day of school and possibly the last time ill ever see him.
He was quite literally a huge mentor in my life and i was lucky to have him teach me in my life.
O Captain, My Captain,
Me and your students will be waiting at the dock when you return.
